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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months

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Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Two

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Word count: ~2.8k Series masterlist

Chapter summary: Alicent's birthday dinner proves to be eventful in more ways than one.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She flops down onto the sofa next to her flatmate, once safely back inside, huffing a dramatic sigh and replaying in her mind the mortifying moment that Aemond refused her kiss.

Mysaria takes out her earphones and closes her laptop, turning to her with a smirk. “So, sugar baby, how was your evening?”

“Shit.” She shoots back, dipping a hand into the open crisp bag that sits between them and taking a few.

“Let me guess, didn’t look anything like his picture?”

She shakes her head, speaking around a mouthful of crisps. “Exactly like his picture. I tried to kiss him and he said no.”

“Sounds like a win to me.” Mysaria says with a shrug. “If you can get away with not doing that sorta stuff and still get the money then you absolutely should.”

She sighs. Therein lies the problem, with Aemond she wants to do that sort of stuff.

The rest of the weekend passes by uneventfully, with no further word from Aemond, no matter how hard she wills for it as she stares at their existing text chain.

She has to suppress a strangled sounding squeal on Monday when he texts her while she’s at work. Her hand flies to her phone the moment she sees his name light up her screen with a buzz.

Are you working today?

She is almost embarrassed at the speed with which she replies.

I am. Why?

She feels her breath hitch as his response comes instantly.

I’ll swing by at lunch time.

She’s unable to concentrate for the rest of the morning, too nervous to focus on anything other than the fact that she’ll be seeing Aemond in a few hours. The time passes painfully slowly and she feels as though she’s anxiously drummed her fingers on every available surface until finally it’s noon.

She spots him in the foyer as she heads downstairs. He is instantly recognisable; taller than almost everyone, the top half of his pale hair is pulled back from his face in a bun, while the rest hangs loose around his shoulders. His fitted black shirt is rolled up to the elbows and paired with a well tailored pair of suit trousers and expensive looking dress shoes.

He gives her his subtle trademark smirk when he sees her and she immediately feels self conscious under the intensity of his gaze.

“Thanks for giving up your lunch break for me.” He says after she’s greeted him. “I figured it would make our story more believable if I’d actually seen you at work. We’re bound to get asked questions at dinner on Wednesday.”

“Oh…sure, no problem.” She feels herself deflate a little upon hearing that this isn’t a visit because he simply wants to see her.

“I brought you a little something, guessing you haven’t had lunch yet?”

He hands her a thick, white box that has ‘Cédric Grolet’ inscribed in gold lettering. It’s a bakery she’s read about in Time Out Magazine, but never visited. In her opinion, anyone willing to spend six pounds on a croissant has more money than sense. She opens the box, her eyebrows raising in surprise as she looks at the delicate pastry inside.

“You brought me a custard tart.” She meets his eye with a grin.

Aemond scoffs. “Parisian flan, actually.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks heat up as she holds his gaze. “I’ll eat this later. Don’t want to risk it around the exhibits.”

He nods, a mixture of amusement and something she can’t quite place evident in his eye as he looks at her. “Shall we then?” He gestures for her to lead the way.

She guides him around the museum and she is impressed with the depth of his knowledge as he tells her what he knows regarding Ancient Egypt and Greek history. Likewise, he pays rapt attention when she explains the timeline of the Vikings and Saxons, asking relevant questions and nodding enthusiastically as she answers.

For the first time in a long time she feels genuinely listened to when she speaks about the subject she’s so fiercely passionate about. It’s nice to have someone take an interest. The conversation flows easily and all too quickly an hour slips by.

“I should let you get back to work.” Aemond tells her, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “I need to get back to Vhagar anyway.”

“Vhagar?”

“Yeah.” Aemond says, and for the first time since they met, his face lights up with genuine happiness. “She’s my doberman. She’s getting on a bit, so I try not to leave her with the dog walker for too long if I can help it.”

She feels herself melt a little at this admission. As if he wasn’t already perfect, he was an animal lover to top it all off.

He’s quick to compose himself, clearing his throat and returning to his stoic demeanour. “Anyway, I’ll pick you up at six on Wednesday, okay?”

She nods and they wave goodbye to each other. She heads back to work, a slight spring in her step for having seen Aemond. She can’t believe how much they have in common, smiling to herself as she wonders when she’ll get to meet Vhagar.

She’s brought crashing back to reality when her phone buzzes with a text from Aemond.

For working through your lunch break.

It’s immediately followed by a notification from her banking app. A one thousand pound deposit from A. Targaryen.

She knows she should feel elated by the money, but it’s a sobering reality check. He’s not your boyfriend, this is transactional.

When she arrives home from work on Wednesday afternoon, she is overwhelmed by the idea of having to get ready for Alicent’s birthday dinner. There is no way she can reuse the dress from Jace and Baela’s engagement party, and everything else in her wardrobe feels far too casual for a family as high end as the Targaryens.

She’s distracted momentarily when she catches sight of a package sitting on the kitchen side.

“Parcel on the side for you!” Mysaria calls out from her bedroom.

“I see it, thanks!” She shouts back, working to remove the packaging.

Inside is a Cartier box, with a note; ‘Would really like you to wear this to dinner - A.’

“Well, then, what is it?” Mysaria asks, creeping up behind her and resting her head on her shoulder. “It arrived this morning and I’ve resisted the temptation to open it all day!”

She gasps as she opens the box. A white gold necklace inlaid with diamonds, and a single sapphire at its center, rests inside.

Mysaria lets out a low whistle. “You could sell that and put down a deposit on a bloody house!”

She rolls her eyes. “I think he intends for me to wear it, not sell it. But what the fuck am I going to put it with? It’s going to look like I’ve put tinsel on shit!”

An hour later, having rummaged through Mysaria’s wardrobe, she’s finally ready, having paired a long sleeved, silky button down top with a faux leather skirt. Simple enough for a casual dinner, yet dressy enough to compliment the completely over the top jewelry that now sits around her neck.

Aemond arrives and is ever the gentleman, opening the passenger side door for her as she climbs into his car. Her eyes linger a little too long on the way his expertly tailored suit hugs his body. Thankfully, his attention is focused entirely on her throat, so he doesn’t notice.

“Necklace looks good.” He says buckling his seatbelt. “We’ll have to do something at some point about the rest of it though.”

Her mouth gapes open in shock. “What’s wrong with my outfit?!”

He reaches across, rubbing the material of her top between his thumb and forefinger. “Polyester.”

The touch of his fingers in such close proximity to her skin makes her feel so light headed that she can’t find it in herself to be offended. Wordlessly, he starts the car.

“So, I should brief you on what you’re getting into before we arrive.” Aemond glances over at her as he drives. “It's my mother's birthday. She won’t have cooked, she never does; she’ll have ordered Thai food. Her partner, Criston, will be there, so will my brother, Aegon, and my sister, Helaena. There’ll also be my half sister, Rhaenyra.”

She doesn’t miss how Aemond tenses up as he speaks of Rhaenyra. She can’t help but feel panicked at how intimate of an affair this will be, especially as this is only her second date with Aemond, if date is even the right word for it.

“What about the rest of your family that were at the engagement party?”

“Most of the people there were not anyone I’d consider family. My grandfather’s away on business and ‘Nyra knows better than to bring her boys. Mum won’t want them there. None of us do.”

The grip that Aemond has on the steering wheel tightens and his jaw clenches. She decides not to push the subject any further, it’s clearly a touchy one and she simply doesn’t know him well enough to pry. The rest of the drive passes in silence.

The townhouse they pull up outside of is lavish, a blanket of green ivy covers the outside. Aemond is quick to take her hand as they walk up the path to the front door. Her heart races at the feel of it, and she has to battle to remind herself that it’s all for show.

Alicent gives them both a warm welcome, pulling them into a tight hug with a kiss on both cheeks. She looks radiant as ever as she leads them through to a large dining room, with a long mahogany table at the center of it.

Helaena jumps up as soon as she sees them, giving them both a hug, while Aegon opts to remain seated, making a mock salute as he takes a swig from his beer bottle.

Aemond was right about the Thai food, as Criston enters shortly after they arrive, carrying several paper bags from a place called Patara and places them in the middle of the table.

Aemond pulls out a chair for her and she takes a seat, her eyes fluttering closed involuntarily as he presses his lips to her temple. A shiver runs through her.

“Get me a fork, would you, Hel? I’ll be here all fucking night trying to eat with chopsticks.” Aegon says, leaning forward to rummage in a bag.

“It’s Thai food, you eat it with a spoon, not chopsticks!” Helaena shoots back.

“That’s not a fork though, is it?” He rolls his eyes exasperatedly, pulling out tubs and setting them down. “Get me a fork!”

“Get your own fork, dick.” She fires back.

“Will you two stop it?!” Alicent hisses. “I just want one family dinner without an argument. Rhaenyra isn’t even here yet, stop opening the food. Aegon!”

She hurries from the room as the doorbell rings.

The mood around the table shifts. She notices Aemond rubbing his fingers together absentmindedly, his teeth grinding ever so slightly. Without thinking, she reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezes back, shooting her an appreciative look.

Rhaenyra sweeps into the room, looking glamorous. Her long, light hair is pulled into an intricate braid and a pair of teardrop ruby earrings hang delicately from her lobes.

“Apologies for my lateness.” She says with a tight smile. “Difficult to be on time when you have to make separate dinner plans for the side of the family that aren’t welcome.”

“Oh god, she’s started already.” Drawls Aegon. “Come on, who had ‘as soon as she arrives’ in the sweepstake for when ‘Nyra would start her bitching?”

“Aegon!” Alicent scolds him, her brown eyes widened with anger. Her face softens as she turns back to Rhaenyra. “Ignore him, I’m so pleased you could make it.”

The two women exchange a warm embrace before taking their seats.

The meal passes in relative high spirits, in spite of its awkward start. Expensive red wine is shared around the table, as they all dig into dishes of soft shell crab mango salad, chicken massaman and vegetable pad thai.

Alicent asks her more about her line of work, while Aemond interjects that he’d dropped by to surprise her with lunch. This little anecdote is met with excited coos from both his mother and sister.

He plays the part of attentive boyfriend perfectly. Dishing out food onto her plate, feeding her from his fork and placing his hand on her knee at regular intervals. The longer it goes on for, the more difficult it becomes for her to remember that it’s all an act. The way her body responds to his touch is certainly not for show, however; there is no pretending when it comes to the gooseflesh left in the wake of his hand on her skin.

As the meal is drawing to its end, Rhaenyra sits back in her chair, running her fingers along the stem of her wine glass. “So, I was planning on making a gift of Dragonstone Cottage to Jace and Baela, since they’ll be needing a place to live together once they’re married.”

“That’s not yours to give away.” Aemond tells her, staring at her with an intensity that’s almost frightening.

“Father didn’t name an owner in his will. Technically, as first born, everything goes to me.” She says with an offhand shrug.

“That’s such bullshit!” Aegon seethes, over the rim of his glass.

“Don’t.” Criston warns. “You’ll upset your mother.”

“Maybe this is best talked about another time.” Alicent says, shooting an apologetic look around the table.

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it, Mum? You never want to talk about it and she always gets her own way, just like when Dad was alive.” Aegon says, his voice raising an octave with every word.

“Oh, I think you’ve gotten far more than what is owed to you.” Rhaenyra glares at him.

Aemond slams his fist on the table, causing everyone to startle. He stands abruptly, storming from the room.

She isn’t sure of where to look, she has never felt more uncomfortable in her entire life than she does right now. The atmosphere around the dinner table is horribly strained and she is suddenly glad of the opportunity to play up to her part of concerned girlfriend in order to get away from it.

“I’ll…um…I’ll just go and see where he’s gone.” She says shakily, eager to get away from the sour, sullen faces that now surround her.

She finds Aemond stood outside in the back garden, leaning against the railing of the patio decking as he smokes a cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.” He responds, taking another drag.

“Anything in there that you wanted to talk about?” She offers meekly.

“I don’t pay you enough for that.” He sighs.

Her face falls slightly at this. Each reminder of what their relationship really is is like a punch to the gut. She leans against the railing, placing her hand next to his.

“Whatever it is, I’m sorry. If you ever do need to talk though, I’m happy to listen.”

Aemond flicks the cigarette away, crushing it under foot. “I just…just once it would be nice to feel appreciated.”

“I appreciate you.” She tells him honestly, her little finger stroking over his as she stares up at him.

His face softens as he looks down at her and for the first time since she stepped outside she feels like he is seeing her, really seeing her. His hand moves from the railing to brush her hair away from her face and as his eye moves from hers to her lips, she leans up and presses them to his. This time he doesn’t stop her.

He tastes of cigarettes and red wine, it’s a heady combination, intensified by the plushness of his lips. All too soon, he is pulling away, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that.” He admits.

“But I wanted to.” She pleads earnestly.

He wraps his arms around her then, one hand clutching desperately between her shoulder blades, as the other buries itself in her hair. He kisses her like he is a man starved of oxygen and he needs her to breathe. She whimpers as she feels his tongue work itself against her own. Nobody has ever kissed her like this before, it makes her head swim and heat lick at her lower belly.

“Go to dinner with me on Friday.” He says breathlessly, once their lips part. “Just me and you.”

“I’d love to.” She whispers.

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

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I’m sooo excited!! I’m also craving angst for Druig please 🥺

Could you write something where the reader has been silently struggling with her mental health and when the eternals all reunite he notices that she isn’t the same bright person he once knew and he makes it his mission to get her to open up to him?

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐞

Pairing: Druig x (female) Eternal!Reader

Summary: after the Eternals split you felt isolated and alone, struggling with your mental health. When the Eternals finally reunite Druig notices there’s something wrong and encourages you to open up to him

Warnings: angst, discussions of struggling with mental health issues, namely depression / anxiety, minor Eternals spoilers

A/N: please take care of yourselves, your mental health is so so important. If you’re struggling please reach out to someone, a friend, a loved one, a professional, anyone you trust. As a long time sufferer of depression and severe anxiety myself I know how difficult it can be to deal with. My asks / messages are always open if anyone wants / needs to talk🥰🖤 thank you for your request and I hope you like this!!

When the Eternals had split it had devastated you. Your family suddenly torn apart. Apparently your shared purpose of eradicating all the deviants being the only thing that kept you together. So, once they were all gone, you and the Eternals were free to go your own ways. You just hadn’t expected the split to be so quick, so final. These people that you loved and had been side by side with for decades, suddenly gone.

You’d looked to Druig, the one you were closest too out of all the others. The two of you had a bond that no one else could compare to. You were always the one to go to his side when him and Ikaris clashed over how to deal with the humans. You were the one he always defended when you had different ideas on how to deal with the deviants. And yet, when the time had come, he’d simply retreated into the Amazonian forest.

And so you’d lived your life, devoid of love, devoid of purpose. Days, months, years, decades, they simply passed by you. You simply kept yourself occupied each day, making sure you were never alone long enough to really to think. You never settled, jumping from different locations whenever the urge struck you. You felt so disconnected. Nothing in your life was permanent and it scared you. You always kept people around but you never really let them in. You were scared to get close to anyone knowing you’d eventually lose them anyway.

Today you were sat in your living room, a rare moment where you were alone. You stared out your window, taking in the nightlife of the city below you. There was a weird comfort to be found in watching other people go about their lives as you sat in the dark silence of your apartment.

A noise behind you makes you spin your head instinctively. You turn only to see the majority of your fellow Eternals in the foyer of your apartment. Ikaris, Sersi, Sprite, Kingo, and another man you didn’t recognise who was holding a camera. And finally, Druig.

You feel the wind rush out of your lungs as you lock eyes with him. After centuries of feeling numb suddenly a thousand emotions surge through you at once. You blink back tears at the sudden rush of emotions.

“Hi” Sersi finally speaks. “We need your help."

...

And so now here you all were, on the Demo, reunited once more. You stood in silence against the wall as Phastos went over his technological inventions that would help Druig harness your collective power, hopefully enough to put Tiamut to sleep and stop the entire planet from being eradicated. You could feel Druig’s eyes shift to you every now and then, constantly flicking between paying attention to Phastos and staring at you. You deliberately avoided his eyes.

Once the plan had been established it was time for all of you to get some rest before the day ahead. You slink silently out of the room, padding quietly to what had once been your room.

You’d barely made it to the centre of the room when you feel him behind you. Druig. You freeze, keeping your back to him, knowing that looking at him would hurt too much. After years of being uncomfortably numb you’re sure your chest would collapse from the pain of confronting him.

You hear him step further into your room, now only a few paces behind you. Your body tenses and he obviously notices as he stops before coming too close.

“Y/n” he speaks softly. “Are you okay?” The question takes you slightly by surprise.

You shrug. “Yeah I’m fine” you do your best to keep your voice under control.

“Hmm” he hums softly behind you, clearly not believing you.

“It’s just the whole end-of-the-world situation. It’s a lot to process” you lie, deciding the best tactic was to throw him off course so he wouldn’t prod too far into how you were actually feeling.

“I think there’s more to it than that” he sighs. You shrug again.

“Y/n please, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

You shake your head lightly, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall. You just wanted to be left alone. It’s what you were used to now.

“I know something’s not right. You’re too quiet. I know the situation is dire but I can tell it’s more than that. It’s like you weren’t even here with us, like the life has somehow been zapped out of you. You’re nothing like I remember you. And I don’t intend that to sound mean but I- I-“ he sighs before continuing. “I just don’t know what happened to you. You used to be so full life. But now... now you’re like a hollow shell of who you used to be.” You can hear the sadness in his voice.

You feel your shoulders shudder as a silent sob racks through you. You’re hurt by his words but you know they’re true. He sighs defeatedly.

“I didn’t intend for that to sound mean. I- I’m just worried about you, y/n” he says softly.

“You didn’t seem to be too worried the last few centuries” you mumble.

“What?”

“Nothing” you sigh, trying to control your breath again.

“Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong” he pleads with you. “Y/n please.”

“I don’t know” you finally confess.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’”? he questions you, taking one step closer.

“I mean I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Druig” you snap. “It isn’t that simple, it’s not just one thing. It’s everything Druig. Everything. I’m just so alone. I just feel sad all the time, and when I don’t feel sad I don’t feel anything. I can’t connect with anyone. I’m too afraid to even try. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me...” you ramble, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

You suddenly feel Druig’s hands on your arms, spinning you around to face him. He looks you in the eye, concern plain on his face.

“Hey hey, there’s nothing wrong with you” he whispers urgently.

“Then why do I feel like this all the time? Why am I so alone? Why didn’t you ever come see me?” your voice cracks on the last sentence. You hadn’t even meant to ask that last question but the words were out your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Well why didn’t you come visit me?” Druig counters in a panic. You make a sound that’s half way between a scoff and a sob.

“I wasn’t exactly sure you wanted to see me. Especially considering you were the one who snaked away into the Amazonian forest without so much as a goodbye. I thought you didn’t want to see any of us anymore” You see something like regret flash across his face.

“I was afraid” he admits quietly, his eyes breaking away from yours to stare at the floor. You knit your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Afraid of what?” you whisper.

“Afraid of the way I felt. The way I felt about you” he says hesitantly. “The way I still feel about you” he whispers so quietly you almost miss it. You’re taken aback, unsure of what to say. Thankfully he carries on quickly.

“But y/n you need to understand that there’s nothing wrong with you. The way you feel, isolated and alone, it’s perfectly normal. Especially considering the way our family split. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time living with the humans is that everyone feels like that sometimes, you’re not alone, even if you feel like you are. Sometimes human brains are just wired differently, some people are just predestined to having depression. But listen to me y/n,” he pauses to grab your face gently. “You’re not alone. I’m sorry that I made you feel so by never coming to see you. But I’ll never leave you alone again. I’m here, I’m right here” he whispers.

“I’m not going to promise you’ll feel better immediately. I can’t promise you’ll feel better for a long time to be honest, but the point is I’ll be there, by your side, to face it all. Okay?” he asks gently.

“Okay” you nod lightly, a tear of happiness sliding down your cheek, a smile on your face for what felt like the first time in centuries.

—————

Masterlist

A/N: not me as someone who’s suffered from depression and anxiety for like ever and struggling to put the description in writing. Sorry I feel like this probably isn’t the best depiction of depression, and please note I KNOW depression is not cured just because someone is there to support you but I do know it helps so that’s what I was going for here. I hope this was okay??🙈🖤

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eloquent-vowel · 3 years

Note

I have had a few bucky x read fic ideas bouncing around in my head and i cant write! So here is one,

Sam find a person who stairs and doesnt talk a whole lot because they uses ✨telepathy ✨. So Sam think they would be a good fit for Bucky, but he doesn’t know they have that power he just thinks they are mute. Then there is a thing where the reader is telling Buck how it works and they if they have something to connect them together like an object *reader motions to dog tags* they can have an unbreakable mind link. Then they fall in love or something. This is dumb, thank you for coming to my TedTalk

Hey! Thank you so much for this request, it wasn't dumb at all. I really enjoyed writing this. I may have gotten a bit carried away, this may sit close to 4000 words but we vibe. I hope this is what you had in mind! Please enjoy! <3

Click here for my masterlist of other fics and check in my bio for requests if anyone wishes to ask!

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Bucky had been enjoying a moments peace, he loved working with Sam but sometimes all he wanted was to put his feet up, put on some vinyl and enjoy a good cup of coffee all while reading a brilliant book. He had been trying to get into Game of Thrones lately, on Sam’s insistence, and he had been enjoying it. With the crackles of Glenn Miller from the turntable he missed the clunky footsteps coming up the stairs.

The sight that greeted Sam needed to be photographed. Bucky was lounging back on his ‘old man armchair’ feet up, hair in a towel, in a bathrobe, coffee in hand and facemask on, this was definitely one for the family album.

At the sound of the phone shutter Bucky practically launched himself out of the chair.

“Oh, you are never gonna live this one down old boy, it’s going to haunt you.” Sam almost cackled evilly as he began to email the photo to himself- he had learnt the hard way that Bucky was very proficient at breaking phones.

“You better not upload that photo anywhere, Wilson, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Pfft, reputation, that’s funny.”

Bucky scoffed as he stood up, placing his book carefully on the side table, “Big scary super soldier, people hardly run-in fear from a guy in a bathrobe.”

“I disagree, a man in a bathrobe is definitely something you should run from. AH NOPE!” Sam jumped backwards, on top of a nearby chair, as Bucky lunged for the phone, towel turban falling off in the process. “You are not breaking this phone as well.”

“Fine. But you gotta promise not to post that anywhere.” Bucky huffed.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

“As long as- “

“Oh no, I’m not doing anything for you.”

“Think of it as payment for the last phone you broke and insurance for this picture.”

There was silence for a moment as the two friends eyed each other up. Sam raised his eyebrows, Bucky’s eyes narrowed. It was an intense staring match between a guy in a bathrobe and a precariously balanced man. A clock ticked.

“Fine.” Bucky conceded. “What do you want?”

“For you to come to a meeting.”

“The families of Veterans ones?”

“Yeah.” Sam slowly started climbing down from the chair. “And before you get your old man pants in a twist, I’m not trying to force you to talk or anything, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Suspicion laced through Bucky’s voice.

“You know sign language, right?”

“Which kind?”

“American? I think?”

“Yeah, I know ASL, might be a bit rusty but I’m sure it still holds up. Why do you ask?”

Sam shifted slightly on his feet, “There’s this person, they come in every week and listen. I tried to talk to them, but they communicate through sign language, and I don’t have anyone there to talk with them.” He cast his eyes to the floor, “I feel bad. They were brave enough to come to the group only to basically be ignored ‘because we didn’t plan well enough.”

Bucky smiled, face mask crinkling around his smile lines, “You could have just asked me to Sam. You didn’t have to blackmail me into this, of course I’ll help. When’s the next meeting?”

“This evening. You gonna be ready or do you need some more ‘me’ time.”

Bucky simply chuckled at Sam’s teasing tone, patted his shoulder making sure to squeeze just a bit too hard before retreating to his room.

“I’ll be there, Wilson, and I will look so much younger than you!”

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It was frustrating to you, going along to these meetings and not being able to communicate. You could always speak into someone’s mind but all that usually accomplished was a very paranoid person. But just listening to other’s stories really helped the grief from losing someone so close to you. You related to most of the people there and even though they didn’t understand you a lot of the time, you were always made to feel welcome- with friendly pats on the back and the odd tissue thrown your way.

You bustled into the familiar building with a new sense of excitement as Sam had promised to bring a translator for you this week. It was finally time to say your thanks to some of the people there and finally let the group know about your brother, so that it wasn’t only you that remembered him.

You all but ran through the hallways until you caught sight of a familiar smiling man. Sam was facing you, talking animatedly to another man, the strangers back was to you. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in a vintage looking leather jacket and rather well fitted trousers. Now the debate was: does the tailoring make the ass, or does the ass make the tailoring. You were halfway through the arguments on either side when Sam shouting your name disrupted the intense debating in your mind. You blushed at being caught, then blushed some more when you caught sight of the stranger’s face. Twinkling blue eyes under a deep-set brow should have made him intimidating, but he was smiling, and his face was dazzling. There was an immediate fluttering in your stomach.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” Dear lord even his voice was nice, what made you smile even more was the fact that he signed as he spoke. Well, Sam certainly knew how to pick them well. “Sam introduced me; said you wanted an interpreter.”

You nodded as you signed back, “Nice to meet you, thank you for helping out.”

“No problem, Sam has told me a bit about you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“Okay I recognise my own name, you two better not be conspiring against me.” Sam piped up, to be honest you had forgotten about him for a moment.

Bucky laughed, and it sent a little thrill down you, he really was adorable.

“No worries, Wilson, just letting them know all your dirty little secrets.”

“Right, you two get in there, before you make me sleep with one eye open.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Bucky caught each other’s eye, his eyes were twinkling with mischief, and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you. You had a feeling that the two of you would get on just fine.

The meeting passed easily. Bucky translated your signs and you finally felt like you could actually take part in these meetings. Everyone listened intently when you spoke of your brother and when you had thanked the whole group for being so open to you a couple of people shed a tear. By the end of the meeting though you were tired and very accepting of Bucky’s offer to walk you home.

It was a lot of side glances and hidden smiles and you walked side by side. Drawn to each other under the moonlit sky, it was nice to just be in the presence of someone who had such a kind aura. You spent the walk trying to work up the confidence to sign something, anything but nothing came to mind and Bucky seemed quite content to just walk in comfortable silence.

You soon reached your home, you turned to Bucky with a smile on your face and signed,

“Thanks for today, Bucky. You were really helpful.”

“No problem.” He signed back,

You hesitated slightly before signing, “Would you be happy to have a coffee with me, tomorrow?”

Bucky went a little red in the face, and chuckled, “I would love to, I know a nice place, real cosy. I’ll text you the details.”

“You know how to text?”

“Hey! I get enough stick from Sam, don’t need you getting on my case too. I’ll have you know that I am very adaptable.”

“Sure, Sure.” You smiled at his flustered tone. “I’ll wait for your text then, have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The two of you stared slightly awkwardly at each other, neither wanting to be the first to turn around. You shuffled your feet away slowing, smiling awkwardly once more at Bucky before turning. You heard his footsteps start to fade away as you walked towards your home. You were but three steps to the door when a large figure in a hoodie slammed into you, you raised your arms instinctively to block them when you noticed your shoulder was lighter. The bastard had stolen your bag.

You immediately took chase, chasing around the corner you just walked down but they were fast, faster then you at least. As you rounded the corner you caught sight of Bucky walking ahead. The thief wouldn’t stand a change against him. Without a second thought you cast your thoughts towards Bucky,

“Bucky! Thief! My Bag! Behind you!”

You saw Bucky flinch slightly then turn bewildered, his eyes widening when he saw you hurting towards him, chasing the hooded figure. He caught on and launched after the thief as well, with barely any effort he knocked the thief to the ground, grabbed your bag and whipped out his phone to call the cops.

Well, that was hot.

You took your bag back, immediately checking that you brother’s lucky coin was in the zippy pocket, to your relief it was still there. You looked up to see Bucky staring at you with a very puzzled look on his face. You sighed before casting your thoughts to his head once more,

“I’ll explain later.”

Bucky let out a strange, decompressed noise of shock, it made you giggle. The two of you waited in silence until the police came and took the thief away. The police car had barely driven away when he turned to you.

“Did you just, talk in my head? Or did my conscious just suddenly get really loud.”

“I did. Hi. Sorry about that.”

He waved his hands dismissively. “Believe it or not, not the weirdest thing I’ve encountered.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

There was an awkward silence.

“So,” You started, resorting back to sign language, it felt less invasive, “Still down for coffee?”

Bucky smiled, “One hundred percent. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Bye Bucky. Thanks for getting my bag back.”

“No problem, see ya.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The coffee shop that Bucky invited you to, was tucked away, it was the kind of place that you would stumble over on accident. With a simple door and a big window out the front, that lead soft orange light filter out onto the alley. There was the faint sound of jazz leaking out of the building, you smirked. It was such an old fashioned place, of course this was where Bucky frequented.

The bell tinkled slightly as you entered the café, where you were greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. You caught sight of Bucky’s broad shoulders sitting in the corner, and you made your way over to him, smiling at the barista as you passed.

As if sensing you, Bucky turned to smile and wave. He was dressed in casual clothes like last time, but this time his hair was loose around his shoulders. You smiled back before settling into the seat opposite him.

His hands moved hesitantly as he signed, “What would you like? I can recommend their hot chocolate, its very warming/”

“Hot chocolate it is.”

You could tell he wanted to ask you a million questions but to his credit he walked slowly to get the drinks, he even took his time carefully carrying the tray of drinks back to your table. He placed a delicious looking hot chocolate in front of you. You watched as he took a sip.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1-

“So,” Here we go, “What is it you can do, you can speak in peoples’ heads, can you,” He lowered his voice and leaned in, “Can you read people’s minds?”

You giggled slightly, his eyes were basically sparkling, he was definitely nerding out about this.

You set the hot chocolate down before casting your thoughts to his head, “I can speak in peoples heads relatively easily, it’s how I talk most of the time to people I know. I guess you could call it Telepathy.”

Bucky’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “So you can’t read thoughts, only… speak them?”

“I like to call it casting, makes me feel like a sorcerer. I can read thoughts, but it takes a lot of energy. I used to be able to talk with my brother from across the house. That usually requires some kind of connection.”

“Oh, so like a blood or family connection? Do you have to know the person very well?”

“That certainly helps but it’s not always necessary. If I have a personal object that belongs to that person, something I can hold and connect to them it isn’t hard to make a two-way connection. Especially if that person is willing to open their mind.”

Bucky seemed to be caught in thought for a second. “So, if I were to give you something of mine, we could both talk in our… heads?”

“Well yes, but Bucky we have only just met. Letting me into your head is a lot. I try not to pry but sometimes I’ve found that thoughts just burst through. Let’s get to know each other a before that happens.”

Bucky smiled at you before speaking and signing, “You’re right. Let’s get to know one another. I find you fascinating.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It happened on the fifth date. Bucky was just walking you home after a lovely dinner at a small Italian that he claimed he went to back in the 40s. Just outside your door, under the glow of a lamppost he turned to you and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I know this may be a lot, but I wanted to give you these.” He reached around his neck and pulled off something silver. You gasped slightly as he held out his dog tags, immaculately preserved after all these years.

“Are you sure, Bucky? This is a lot.”

“I know and if you aren’t comfortable with it then just let me know but I want to give them to you.”

“You know what this means Bucky?”

“Yeah, I know, I just figured that you’re already in my head all the time anyways, just can’t seem to get you out of it.”

“You cheeseball.” You smirked at him before taking the dog tags and placing them around your neck. You gripped the cold metal for a moment, concentrating on the man in front of you. Taking everything, you knew about him and stretching out a connection, like a hand reaching out to clasp another.

“Testing, Testing, Testing, one two, one two, can my Telepathic partner hear me?”

You laughed, “Yes I can Bucky, you big dork.”

Bucky whooped out loud before sweeping you up in a big hug. The two of you laughing under the lamp light. His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t fight the smile off your face.

“Oh, we are going to have so much fun messing with Sam.”

“You’re evil.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, the two of you made a pact not to tell Sam until he worked it out, which wouldn’t be anytime soon according to Bucky. It led to some very memorable moments and Sam refusing to play any form of card or board game with either of you because you always managed to win, somehow. Not to mention all the times you had spoken in eery unison around him.

“I swear, its like you two can read each other’s minds sometimes.” Sam threw his hands up in frustration at another lost game of charades.

You smirked at Bucky across the room, “Should you tell him, or shall I?”

“I think he’s been through enough, I got it.”

Bucky cleared his throat, “We can.”

Sam whipped around to face Bucky, a look of sheer disbelief on his face, “Seriously Bucky-boy, if you think I believe that after all-

“Hello Sam.” You cast your thoughts to him, in the creepiest old lady voice you could muster.

Sam yelped, before turning accusingly at you, “You better be joking around with me right now, I am not dealing with any kind of ghosts in this house.”

“Sorry! Surprise I’m telepathic!”

“You’re serious.”

You nodded.

Sam put his head in his hands and sighed, “Not the weirdest thing ever. Wait, does this mean you have been cheating this entire time.”

You both looked guiltily at one another.

“You owe me. That poker night, void.”

You both laughed, “We’ll have a fair rematch this time Sam.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been close to a year since you had made it official with Bucky and you were now much more comfortable around one another. He no longer just dropped you off at the lamppost but cam inside with you. You had spent many lovely mornings together sharing glances over steaming cups of coffee. Fighting each other for who got to spread their legs out on the couch, there wasn’t really a loser though as it usually ended up in sofa cuddles for both of you, while watching a film.

Life was pretty great, you thought, as you smiled down at the sleeping Bucky beside you. Finally reaching over to turn off the lamp and put your book down, you were finally reading the hobbit at Bucky’s insistence. As you clicked off the light beside you and settled down you noticed the faster than usual breathing coming from beside you.

“Bucky?”

You reached out, thinking he was awake but instead as you opened up your connection you caught flashes of night terrors. You were falling indefinitely, snow all around you, and in the distance, there were cries of pain, people pleading for their lives, there was gunfire and explosions. You gasped and took off the dog tags. You only gave yourself a moment to breathe before trying to shake Bucky awake. When it became clear that he wasn’t stirring you steadied yourself and settled your hands on his temples. You didn’t care you tired this would make you, you just wanted Bucky to stop suffering. You focused, offering out that hand of connection again, this time picturing it in the shape of a fist and, although it wasn’t subtle, you tried to shake Bucky’s brain awake. You forced your way into his dreams, punching through the dark fog that clouded his thoughts and almost screamed at him.

“Bucky! Bucky wake up! You’re dreaming my dear!”

Bucky woke up with a start. Tears flowing down his face, he stared at you blue eyes shining. No one spoke as he pulled you into his arms. You just breathed together for a moment, counting the breaths and the spaces in between. When he finally pulled back, you saw his eyes flicker with concern before lifting a hand to gently wipe under your nose, it came back red with blood.

“You, okay?”

You smiled sadly, reaching out to put the dog tags back on.

“I should be asking you that.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

“Occupational hazard.” You tried to subtly get rid of any of the extra blood. “That was pretty intense. Wanna talk?”

Bucky looked down to the sheets and shook his head. You smiled at him, tilting his head to yours.

“That’s fine, want me to go? Or would you like to cuddle for a bit?”

Bucky didn’t talk again, just pulled you gently down to the bed once more. Snuggling himself under your chin, resting his head on your chest. You felt his arms draw tightly against your waist. You pressed your lips into his hair.

“May I help you go to sleep? Keep the bad thoughts at bay for at least one night.”

You felt Bucky nod and let out a little sleepy hum of agreement. You closed your eyes, focused on your connection setting up a golden wall against the dark fog at the corners of his mind and settled into a deep sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the clinking of cups.

“Morning.” You opened your eyes at Bucky’s voice and took the offered cup greedily. Your mind still felt hazy from the energy you used last night.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky sat and sipped at his cup as well, hair a bit of a mess from bed. He had evidently only just woken up as well.

He took a breath, “I had some pretty interesting dreams, sweetheart.”

You stiffened, “Good ones I hope.”

“Don’t worry, they were good. If a little strange.”

“Strange?”

“I was watching myself most of the time.”

You snorted into the coffee, “Sounds creepy”

There was a slight chuckle, “Nah, I was watching myself build a home, a family- “

“Oh God Bucky.” You snapped your eyes to his, you knew what had happened. “I am so sorry my dreams must have stuck in your head.”

“Those were your dreams?”

“Yeah, its only happened once before but when the connection between two people is very strong, it can happen- I call it bleeding. Perhaps we should- “

“If the next words out of your mouth are take a break, I will spill your coffee.” You clutched your cup closer to your chest, “Truthfully, those were some of the beset dreams I have every had. I really loved them.”

You looked back up at him, hesitantly “You did?”

“And I love you.”

“Huh

There was silence as you stared at him in shock. His face as nothing but adoration as the sunlight filtered over his face.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

Coffee cups were cast aside as you both collided. Giggling and joking, radiating happiness as the two of you shared the sweetest kiss. Your feelings merging together, amplifying one another until they shone brighter than the sun.

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marvel-sluts · 3 years

Text

Request: 5 and 6 draco malfoy🥺 - @wisefiresharkduck (sorry it won't let me tag you)

5 - Finds you self harming

6 - Finds you trying to commit suicide

Prompt list

Please don't give up

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: Talk of self harm, talk of suicide, attempted suicide, swearing, angst ⚠️don't read this if it will trigger you⚠️

Summary: You and Draco never got on until he found out about your self harming, after that he made you promise to go to him if anything happens.

A/N: This is purely on my experiences of depression and self harm, I can't speak for everyone who goes through this kinda thing. If anyone ever needs to talk I'm always here. Hope you enjoy <3.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"What are you doing up so late?" A voice came from the other end of the common room as you crept through the door.

"Why do you care?" You asked spitefully, recognising the voice as soon as you heard it.

"I don't, just didn't think you would be the type to sneak out at night." Draco said as you turned around to see him curled up on the sofa with a book in his hand.

"You don't know anything about me, so stop pretending that you do." You snapped back, fiddling with the end of your sleeve as you felt the blood seep through the bandages. You had cut slightly deeper than you had meant to. You had been in the prefects bathroom, since it was guaranteed to be empty. Today had been a bad day and unfortunately you had slipped back into bad habits.

"What's that?" Draco asked, worry evident in his tone.

"What's what?" You asked feebly, feeling the blood drip down your arm.

"On your arm, is it blood?" Draco asked, pointing at the dripping red liquid coming from your sleeve.

"It's paint, I was painting." You lied badly, starting to walk towards your dorm before Draco stood in your way.

"What is it really?" He asked, not believing you for a second. "Is it blood?" He repeated.

"No." You said, feigning confidence.

"Show me then." Draco said stubbornly, still not believing you.

"No." You said simply.

"Why not?" Draco asked, pushing you to show him.

"Because it's none of your business, now get out of my way." You said, finally succeeding to push past him. As you were walking away Draco grabbed your arm, turning it over and pushing up the sleeve in the same motion. A small gasp left his lips as he saw the deep red lines and scars running all the way up your arm.

"How long?" He asked quietly.

"It's none of your business Draco, let me go." You said coldly, trying to get away from his surprisingly gentle grip on your arm.

"How long?" He demanded, slightly louder.

"Two years I think, why do you care?" You asked, finally able to get your arm free from his grip.

"Because despite what you may think about me I'm not a cold heartless monster and I actually care about people. Why?" Draco fumed, shocking you slightly at how much he cared.

"Why what?" You asked softly, ashamed that you thought anything less of him.

"Why did you start doing that?" Draco asked, mimicking your soft tone.

"I was sinking deeper and deeper into this pit that I couldn't find a way out of, I felt so many emotions for so long until eventually I didn't feel anything at all. So I started cutting because it made me feel something but it ended up becoming almost like an addiction. It was addictive to feel the pain of the blade sliding across my skin and the blood pouring put of my arm. I told myself that I would stop, and I did, for a while. But today was awful, it felt like the only thing that would bring me comfort, so I relapsed." You explained, surprised to see that Draco had tears forming in his eyes.

"Look at me y/n, if you ever feel like that again please come to me. I promise I will do anything in my power to stop you from doing anything stupid." Draco said, taking your arm and gently tracing over the scars.

"Why would you do that for me? I thought you hated me?" You asked.

"I don't hate you y/n, and I do it because I care about what happens to you." Draco replied simply, running his fingers over your scars one last time before drawing away and picking up his previously discarded book from the sofa. "I'm going to bed, I suggest you do the same. And don't forget to come to me if you ever want to do anything like that gain." Draco said, flashing you a warm smile before heading up to his dorm.

Your heart filled with appreciation as you realised that someone on this planet cared, even if it was Draco Malfoy.

»»————-　♡　————-««

A few months passed by in the blink of an eye, and before you knew it you were two months clean. Draco stuck to his promise, always being there for you when you needed him. The first week being clean was always the hardest, but once you got through that it became easier and easier.

As time went by you started to open up a lot more, you told your friends about your bad habits and they were endlessly supportive of you. You were terrified that they would shut you out, but they didn't. Everything seemed to be looking up, until another wave of depression hit you, and everything came crashing back down around you.

You were walking to dinner with your friend, Amy, when the wave of depression overcame you again. It came at odd times, when you were sad, when you were stressed, when you were happy, it never held back.

"Hey, you alright?" Amy asked, noticing your mood change.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about me." You murmured, no longer in the mood for talking. Everything just felt so exhausting, you hated being like this, you hated the way that your brain was wired. You had felt this coming for a while now, but there was nothing you could do to stop it.

"Okay." Amy said as the two of you entered the hall, spotting your friends the two of you sat down.

Faking how you were feeling came like second nature, you could laugh and joke with your friends while falling apart on the inside, and that's exactly what you did. No one noticed how you were feeling apart from Amy, and that was only because she was with you when the wave hit you again. She would send you worried glances every now and then, but after reassuring her that you were okay, she seemed to back off a little bit.

You felt yourself slip deeper and deeper into that pit again, with no way out. You could spend all these months feeling completely fine but then your depression pops up again. Eventually you realise that it never really went away, it just took the backseat for a bit. But now it's back and worse than ever.

"I'm going to the bathroom." You mumbled, quickly picking up your bags and rushing out of the hall. Draco had noticed your change in mood, he had gotten very good at reading you so when he saw you rushing out of the hall, he was quick to follow.

You hurried down the corridor, and up to the astronomy tower. You would often come up here on bad nights, the stars kept you company and made you feel as if you weren't really alone.

The stars were already out when you reached the top of the tower, breathing in the crisp autumn air. You hastily made your way over to the edge of the tower, sitting down with your legs dangling precariously from the tower.

The night air and the star lit sky often cleared your head, but not tonight. Tonight your mind was running wild, your mind was telling you to do it. To jump. But every other instinct told you get away from the edge.

You didn't want to die, not really. You just wanted the pain to end, and this felt like the only way of doing that. You felt so stupid killing yourself over a few bad thoughts, but when it was thoughts like these you felt like you didn't have any other option.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" Draco asked cautiously, startling you.

"Did you follow me?" You asked, not moving from your spot on the edge.

"Yes, now please get away from the edge, your scaring me." Draco said, slowly stepping closer to you.

"I don't wanna do it, but I don't have any other choice." You said, voice shaky and tears streaming down your cheeks.

"There's always another option darling. Take my hand, we can get through this together." Draco said, holding out his hand.

"I can't, I'm sorry Draco but I can't." You said, staring off into the black, cloudy abiss.

"Yes you can y/n, here, take it." Draco said as rain started coming down heavily.

"I can't, I'm sorry Draco but I can't continue like this." You shouted over the noise of the wind and rain.

"Yes you can, I'll help you. Please." He shouted back, rain dripping from his golden hair.

You slowly reached your hand up to take his, suddenly realising how bad of an idea this was. "I'm sorry." You whispered, tears running down your face as you grabbed his hand and letting him haul you to your feet.

"Don't be darling, as long as your okay." Draco said, wiping away your tears with the back of his hand. "But please don't do anything like this again, and if you ever feel like you might, please come to me. I care about you and I would hate anything to happen to you."

"I will." You said, pulling away from him and walking towards the door.

"Promise?" Draco asked, following you.

"Promise." You replied. "I don't want to go back to dinner, can we go back to the common room?" You asked, not wanting to be around people at the minute.

"Of course, whatever helps." He said, as the two of you made your way down to your common room. You should have gone to Draco in the first place instead of bottling it all up inside, and that's what your going to do next time. Maybe everything wouldn't be so bad after all, as long as you had Draco by your side.

291 notes · View notes

yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag. You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash. You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing. jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. idiots to lovers. fluff, angst, smut. the holy trifecta, babies! explicit, obviously.

tags / warnings. mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc. 12.2k of nonsense. pure nonsense, i tells ya.

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her. i love you both sm!!! ✨💜

author note. the long-awaited fic is here!! i really hope you enjoy it. if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something? i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot. anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you! stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker. That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him. It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard.

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove. Sometimes, she’s by herself; often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste. They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique. Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be. You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit.

“He has no idea.” It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts. “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder. How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair? It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie.

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”. Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else. Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention. Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him. Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face.

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,” she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does. She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough. Zero tact, though. Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble. You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested. “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags. (God, what awful taste.) There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best. (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction. You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place. Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on. When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes. He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW. Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress is.

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect. It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?” He upspeaks. It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first. A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect. “What’s the item and the name it’s under?” You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine. Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

You’re floored. This is Jeon Jungkook? This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger? You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face. It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers. “I’ll grab it! The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly. He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends. He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance. It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears. There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend? I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.” Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off. “She said she was leaving on Friday.” Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made. “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall. You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.

You do feel bad. Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this. For hurting this stranger. (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality. He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip. He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet.

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off. Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in. (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.) As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth. “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend. Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid. Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours. Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say. Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation. “Oh, maybe. I’m sorry.” The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t. That’s a thing, right? Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?

God, you’re an altruist.

“It’s fine.” When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not. You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word. (You won’t.)

“Here it is!” Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands. If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing. You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand. He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying. You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found. Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start. Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,” you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands. It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card. The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently. You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder. It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum. (You either, but still.)

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers. “What?”

“You know— that!” She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago. “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,” you correct.

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response. There it is.

“What?” There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable.

“What?” It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery. You can read every emotion that runs through her expression: shock, displeasure, confusion.

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth. (She really does remind you of your little sister.) “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder. You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now. There was no way he didn’t.

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts. That’s all.” You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done. You’d want to know if you were him. Consider it an act of goodwill.

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind. What’s done is done. Now he knows, or something close to it. The chips would simply fall where they were meant to.

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him.

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift. She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway. Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding. It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship.

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening.

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter. “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression. “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.” You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person. Sensible.

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front. You suppose it’s your responsibility now. You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell.

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?” Upspeaking again. How cute.

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.” You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter. “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“ It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable. “Thanks. I didn’t even notice. Um, I can come pick it up today?” There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back. “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out. He truly was a sucker.

“That’s fine. We’re open until six tonight.”

“I’ll be there before dinner.” As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough. “Before six, I mean. Um, is around five-thirty okay?”

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation. Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation. “Of course. We’ll see you then.”

He hangs up immediately.

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last. It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest. You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon. You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday. Somehow, you like it more. The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair. It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person. (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him. Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.

“O-oh. It’s you.” The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified. “I m-mean, just—” He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again. “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.” Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.

“That’s right,” you say evenly, expression neutral. It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary. Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room. You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?” He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store. You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again. He makes the same trip twice more. “Can I have it?” To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed. He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress. Good job, you think.

“Of course.” You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter. Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip. You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything. (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment. Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides. It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended. Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact. “May I have it, please?”

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand. You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable. Is he going to say thank you? Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems. “Why did you do it?” There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?” You know what he means. You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?” Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you. You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him; it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side. For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies. It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his. “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?”

“What do you mean?”

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror. He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head. It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin. (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes. Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.” For once, he doesn’t sutter. The lisp doesn’t present itself, either. Was this the same Jungkook? You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?” He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name. How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit? It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?” The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no. You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly. It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.

“I mean like— talk talk.” The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else. His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.

“Sure, we can talk talk.”

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“W-what? No!” Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears. “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding. Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance. He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow. Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down. His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving. You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie. It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall. “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly. “Huh?”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Um—” He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence. There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking. “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out. “You want to talk about… you?”

“That sounds bad.” The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.

“It’s fine. We’ll talk at dinner.”

He nods. You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy. Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?” He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden. Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure. (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.” Everything here is incredible. You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place. His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel. You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish.

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections. Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?” You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute. “So?”

“What did you want to talk about?” If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often. As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper.

“Oh.” Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth. He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle. You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting. He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected. It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline. “What?”

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot. You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip. Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.” It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you. You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel. Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you. You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable. A little different, sure, but altogether nice. Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake. You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not. His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does. (Seriously, how big are his eyes?) You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth. Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?” He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.

“What?” You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out. It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent. Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.” Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare. “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?” The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.

“That’s not my name.” The bite disappears past his teeth. You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook. Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do. Juvenile in a way but enticing in another. You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,” he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down. (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.) “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation. He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations. He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea. Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,” you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.” He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact. “You care about people. You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone. You want to do what’s right. Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words. Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey. He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts. He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up. He decorates his apartment with the most random things: limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates. He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years. All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on. (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.) He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his). He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,” he insists from behind his coffee cup.

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable.

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.” It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap. It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now. He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had. Youngin is good for him, though. You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips. When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone. “Girls are scary.”

You laugh. Cackle, really. You can’t help it. He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon. He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak. He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says. (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary. Death is scary. Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.” He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest. From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture; from him, it’s patient. “Girls aren’t scary. Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.”

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good. Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags. Like he’s living life in greyscale.

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze. Instead, he laughs. “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.” You’re adamant, insistent. He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft. An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.

You want to protect him, teach him to fly. Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes. He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it. He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.

“Fine,” he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long. It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused. It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days. You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse. If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton. He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew). He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it. (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?” It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso. It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm.

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him. He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for. To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings. “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is.

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence? (You wish you were joking.) It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.

“This one?” He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face. Medium-weight cashmere. Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist. It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,” you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels. “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law. You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.” He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.

Your response is a shrug. “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.” You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates. You know there’ll be something good on the menu.

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist. You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him. Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink. Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch. That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other. “Hey! You’re leaving already?” It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone. It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes. For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes. “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.” A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh? Well, that’s certainly something new. Good for him, you think.

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.” It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words. “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her. Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes). Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date. It’s a big deal.

“Yeah—“ Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky. “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“I will,” he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place. It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look. “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever). It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you. He’s going on a second date, after all. Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant. You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine. Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine. The two of you are friends. You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come. Baby boy was growing up.

“Y’know.” You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment. It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?” He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.

You wiggle your hand dismissively. “Second date and all that.”

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on. It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots. “Just stick around. I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door. “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,” you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake. It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook. This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook: Hey. from jeon jungkook: I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook: If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook: Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date. It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing. (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook: i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops. Of course. He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions. (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook: it’s fine! have fun! to jeon jungkook: turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up. Good, you think. About time he finds someone nice. You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact. He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic.

“I want you to meet her,” he mumbles, like that makes it better. As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?” He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over. (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.) You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.” But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is. Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately. “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that. No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman. It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set. Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise. It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch. (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.” His vague response speaks volumes. The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery. When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway. “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!” Of course. It’s obvious. She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that. (He is.) “I’m not coming to dinner.”

“You’re already in the car,” he reasons.

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve. Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.” When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him. Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal. Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,” he repeats, almost pleading. You can’t look at him. You won’t. The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause.

“Fine.” You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off. You’re not actually mad. Just worried. You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand. It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person. You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that. Should, anyway. You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it. He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line. (Truthfully, it’s your fault. All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by. You’ve got a reputation to uphold.

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat? How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer: you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.

“What’re you doing here?” At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness. Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really). “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge. It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired. So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance. He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin. You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day. “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,” the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well. Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,” you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold. You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else. If you had to guess, it’s her perfume. It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses. You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter. You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare. “So?”

“W-what?”

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning. Something’s happened. Must have. There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?” You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him. He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression. He’s stalling, you can tell. You hate when he does this. You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small. “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced. What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges. You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual. Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned. (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.

“So.” You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves. You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest. He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs. Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.” The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said. Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look. It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?” It explodes out, a question that demands an answer.

He’s staring past your head, unblinking. You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp. “I c-couldn’t. It was just…” The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”

“Just—” There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot. He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise. He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket. “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean? Feel right?

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete. It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down. Didn’t he understand that? Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’” You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window. “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately. He doesn’t.

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?”

“You like her, right?”

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out. Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there. “So, you like her.” It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way; you don’t mean it in any way but supportive. You just want him to be happy. “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer. But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise. Hope, maybe? Fear?

“What?” You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight. He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer. (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest. His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair. He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer. Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,” he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.” It’s cruel. “You’re making a bad choice. You’re into this girl. Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements. “I’m not dumb.” There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask. It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay. Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question. You can’t blame her. You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.

“What?” It’s less snark, more sigh. You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter. “You’ve been in a bad mood all week. I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.” She’s right, of course. You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what. “Did something happen?”

You grit your teeth. An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,” she tries again, concerned.

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!” She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly. “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough. So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right. It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload. (Maybe it’d be helpful. Probably. But you’ve never found comfort in other people. At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.” Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on. “It’s fine. Really.” You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I just need to get some sleep.” And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action. It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.” You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater. He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,” he mutters, refusing to meet your stare. At least, you think he’s refusing. It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes. It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away. It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?” You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated. He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding. “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.” This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him. He hums a noise but offers nothing further.

This is how it’ll be then. Fine. If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go. He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth. “I— I don’t— I didn’t say that.”

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now. Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.

“W-what?”

“Tell me.” You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round. “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters. What have I got that she doesn’t?”

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. You think he might say no, outright refuse. You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.

“You’re funny. You’re honest. You speak your mind.” You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people. He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him. “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t. You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen. As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.” He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again. “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”

There’s something thick in your throat.

“You make me want to try.” He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it. “Y-you make things not so scary.”

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you. He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself. You make me laugh.” He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.” You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit. Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs. Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words. They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism. “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention. “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here. Just a chance.” He’s got a peculiar look on his face. “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, he’s close. Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be. There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down. The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.

“You kind of ruined my life. I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense. You’d ruined his life? (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.) You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.

“I’m kidding.”

It feels like whiplash. You’ve created a monster.

“But you do owe me, I think. So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing. He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams.

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out. He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed. He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money. He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him). If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either. Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge. He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,” he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you. You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom. “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff. It’s adorable.

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends. You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head. You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups. Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together. Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects. Surely there’s more to this. Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?” You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”

“A playsuit?” You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in. Would it even fit? Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns. “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected. Or at least, you think it does. If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim.

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal. He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,” he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds. The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs. He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick. “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.

“Use your words, gorgeous.” As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck. He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob. Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh. He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be. The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.

“You like this, don’t you?” His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy. “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,” you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts. The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin. Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.

“Good girl.” Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips. You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall. Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips. “Such a good girl for me. My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she? Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard. Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate. It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest. Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it. Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear. You know he’ll catch you. “I want you.”

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same. Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm. The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,” he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer. Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am. I am. I am,” you chant, tears welling along your lash line. They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you. It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you.

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much. Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings @veronawrites @notmontae97 @papillonsgf i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

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nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

daydreams : b.b

there’s always been something between you and bucky. but when it comes to telling him, you’re left wishing for a daydream that’ll never be. (inspired by the song daydream by maisie peters) (2.2k)

masterlist / permanent taglist

“Mornin’ Y/n,” Your ears perk up as Bucky strolls into the kitchen with a tired smile, one that never fails to warm your heart.

Natasha resists the urge to chuckle at your lovesick state as you try to subtly watch Bucky make his morning coffee. “Sleep well, Barnes?” Natasha asks, seeing your eyes widen out of the corner of your eyes. If only Wanda were here, she’d love to know what you’re thinking about.

“Not really, I’ve been finding it hard to fall asleep.” Bucky explains, now leaning against the kitchen counter as he blows on his coffee, unaware of the near heart palpations you’re having at the sight of his pursed lips. “A lot on my mind, but nothing at the same time.”

“I get that,” You speak up, now catching Bucky’s attention. “you wish your brain had an off switch, god knows I need one.” You chuckle into your cereal and hear Bucky laugh softly to himself.

“Well, maybe Tony will make one for us someday, doll.” Bucky jokes as he winks to you and nods to Natasha before exiting the kitchen.

Natasha raises a brow to you as you try and avoid choking on your cereal. “Huh, doll?” Natasha quips, causing you nearly splutter your coffee all over the counter.

“Oh stop,” You nudge her lightly. “it’s nothing really. Bucky calls all of us doll.”

“I don’t think so,” Natasha comments. “I think you’re the only one he calls doll, Y/n.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Nah, I swear I’ve heard him call Wanda doll before.” You trail off, trying to think deeply if you’ve actually heard him call anyone by the nickname, or if in fact, it has only been you.

Picking up her coffee, Natasha simply mumbles into it. “Whatever helps you get through the day, Y/n.”

Yawning, you couldn’t help but feel your eyes drooping as you stare at the screen.

“We keeping you up, Y/n?” Steve jokes as you curl up on one end of the sofa whilst Bucky remains on the other.

“Nope, I’m good.” You comment, giving Steve a thumbs up.

“And you call us old, huh?” Bucky adds, feeling you kick his foot off the sofa playfully as you pick up a cushion and hug it tightly.

Within a matter of minutes, you give in to the desire to fall asleep. At first, neither men notice the lack of comments or shuffling from you. But when you subconsciously dip towards Bucky, his reflexes aren’t what they once were.

Bucky looks down to see you lying on his metal arm, still hugging the cushion as your breathing deeply, lost in a heavy sleep. “Oh, Y/n.” He chuckles quietly as he lifts his arm up and wraps it around you, holding you close as the film carries on.

Yet, Steve tears his eyes from the screen to observe the rare sight. Bucky allowing himself to fully unwind and enjoy the moment he’s in.

“Quit staring, Steve.” Bucky speaks up, snapping Steve out of it and reverts his attention to the film whilst Bucky smiles to himself, running his fingers along your arm soothingly before he tugs on the blanket draped over your feet, bringing it further up to stop you shivering. “There you go, doll.” He whispers as you curl up closer into Bucky’s embrace.

Natasha stands behind you as she helps secure your dress. “We good?” You ask, turning your head as Natasha steps back and smiles to Wanda.

“Oh we’re more than good,” Wanda comments, crossing her arms as she looks you up and down whilst Natasha holds back her wolf whistle. “Bucky Barnes won’t know what’s hit him when he sees you in there.”

Rolling your eyes, you walk over toward you mirror, catching sight of the black silk dress, hugging you in all the right places. “Who knows.” You mutter, not wanting to get your hopes up too high.

“Only one way to find out.” Natasha reminds you as she walks over to your door, opening it. “Come on girls,” She holds her hand out as Wanda takes yours before grabbing Natasha’s. “we’ve got a party to get to.”

As you near the open living space the sound of music intensifies. Wanda squeezes your hand as you pause for a second, feeling your nerves starting to get the better of you.

“We’re all here, Y/n. It’s okay.” Wanda reminds you as the three of you reach the doors to the party.

“Now or never, huh?” You chuckle as you push the door open and glance around at the transformation Pepper has been able to pull off with less than a weeks notice. “Wow.” You breathe out, oblivious to the blue eyes watching you from the bar, having had the same reaction.

Besides Wanda and Natasha, you walk down the stairs and head straight towards the bar.

“What can I get for you ladies?” The bartender asks as your eyes wander across the various drinks available.

“Three beers, please.” Natasha asks as the bartender places the three bottles in front of you.

“Add it to my tab, thanks.” Bucky comments as he moves closer, standing beside you as he nurses his own bottle. “Ladies,” He smiles to the three of you. “may I say you’re all looking beautiful this evening.”

You smile shyly, lowering your head at his comment. “I’m loving the suit, Barnes. Black really is your colour.” Natasha raises her beer to him.

“Looks like you two coordinated this.” Sam pipes in from behind Bucky. “Y/n,” Sam steps away from Bucky as he takes a hold of your hands and whistles. “damn girl, you gotta dress up more often.”

Laughing happily, you roll your eyes in response. “Oh Sam, always know how to charm a girl, huh?” You pick up your beer, taking a sip as you glance over to Bucky, just as a new song begins to play through the speakers.

“Come on, Y/n, wanna dance?” Sam asks you, raising a brow.

“Not this one Sam,” You tell him as you pat his shoulder. “but, I think there’s someone over there who might.” Turning him around, you push him in the direction of Natasha before reverting your attention to your beer.

“Saving yourself for someone, doll?” Bucky questions, swigging the last of his beer as he looks out at everyone dancing to the upbeat song. “I still don’t get it, what happened to just dancing?”

“This is dancing, Bucky.” You remind him. “Things change over the years, but your style of dancing still exists, don’t you worry.”

“Y/n!” Wanda calls for you from the dance floor as her shoes now absent. “Come on over!” She waves her hand repeatedly.

“Doesn’t look like you’ve got much choice, Y/n.” Bucky chuckles as you push yourself away from the bar.

Yet, you pause and turn back to Bucky with a mischievous smile. “Yeah, neither do you.” You tell him, taking a hold of his hand and drag him with you, not taking no for an answer.

It takes a few seconds for Bucky to loosen up, and he tries to blend in as you dance freely with the others.

“Loosen up, Buck!” You shout over the music. “You dance like my dead grandpa.” You laugh, and Bucky grumbles to himself as he tries to copy Sams moves.

“Barnes has moves?!” Wanda shouts as the three of you dance (or attempt to in Bucky’s case.)

Just as Bucky gets the hang of it, the song fades out into a slow song, one you don’t recognise. “I know this song.” Bucky states as his eyes wander to Steve who is perched at the bar with Natasha who nods to him.

“Wanna dance, Bucky?” You ask, holding your hand out.

“Of course.” He answers, taking your hand as he twirls you into his embrace before resting his metal hand on your waist as you sway together.

“So, this is what you had in mind when you said dancing then?” You ask as Bucky smiles to you, perfectly content. “I see why you like it so much, everything just melts away.”

Bucky hums as he holds your hand up, allowing you to twirl along to the song before bringing you closer once more. “A world without worries for four minutes.” Bucky mutters.

“God, I think I might just love you, Bucky.” You mumble under your breath as you close your eyes for a moment, unaware that Bucky heard every word that just left your lips.

His grip on your waist loosens as his fingers slip out from yours. “Y/n,” Bucky starts, looking down as you open your eyes and stare up at him with blind panic.

“Shit, Bucky, I, I’m sorry, just ignore me.” You ramble, hoping he’d just forget it, but Bucky steps closer.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” He sighs, lifting his hand to your face as he brushes your hair out from your eyes. “I, I can’t.” The words leave his lips and all you can do is nod. “I care about you, Y/n, you know that. But I can’t.” He repeats the words, chipping away at your heart.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” You mutter. “I, I’ve got to go.” You excuse yourself, turning away and walk quickly past the bar, ignoring Natasha calling your name.

Steve rises to his feet, staring at Bucky stood alone on the dance floor as you close the doors at the top of the stairs behind you, hoping no one can hear you cry as you rush to your room.

“What the hell was that?!” Natasha tries to reframe from shouting as Bucky walks towards her and Steve, hanging his head in shame.

“Y/n said she loves me.” Bucky states, looking up at the pair who act like it’s nothing new. “You, you knew?”

Natasha scoffs as she glances up at Steve. “Of course we knew, Barnes. What did you say to her?”

Bucky sighs as disappointment lines Steve’s expression. “I, I told her I can’t ever love her like that.” Bucky tells the pair, hearing Steve sigh heavily before Natasha slaps Bucky across the face.

Holding his cheek, Bucky knows he deserves it as Natasha stares at him with pure rage. “How dare you, Bucky.” Natasha seethes as she walks off, heading in search of you.

“Damn,” Bucky mutters as his cheek burns and picks up the beer bottle, rolling it along his cheekbone. “I deserved that.”

“How could you, Bucky?” Steve asks.

“I’ll only end up hurting her, Steve.” Bucky explains. “I can’t put her through that.”

“And you think she isn’t hurt now?” Steve retorts coldly. “God, Buck, I really thought you loved her.” Steve sighs as he walks away from his oldest friend, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Lowering the beer, Bucky takes a seat at the bar with his back to everyone else. “I do,” Bucky mutters to himself. “and that’s what hurts the most.”

It had been almost a month and Bucky hadn’t seen you since the night of the party. He had tried to run into you after you locked your floor from him accessing it with FRIDAY’s help. All he wanted to do was apologise first and foremost, and if you’d let him, have the chance to explain himself.

With a heavy heart, Bucky walks into the kitchen to see Steve stood over the counter, reading the newspaper. “Hey, Steve,” Bucky calls out.

“Buck.” Steve answers as his eyes remain trained on the paper as he turns the page.

“Fancy going for a run this afternoon?” Bucky asks as he pours himself a mug of coffee, walking around the counter to the other side to face his friend. “Meant to be good weather, least that’s what FRIDAY said.”

“I said I’d help Y/n train.” Steve responds, now looking up as Bucky tenses upon hearing your name. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Turning around, Bucky places his mug down, resting his hands on the counter. “How, how is she?” He asks. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve comments. “she’s strong, Bucky but you’ve got to give her time, that’s all.” Steve explains as he walks around the counter, heading toward the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the compound grounds.

“I just miss her.” Bucky admits, walking to stand beside Steve as he notices two figures emerging below and the faint sound of laughter echoing.

“She misses you too, Bucky.” Steve states as he smiles softly to Bucky.

Focusing on the two figures, Bucky looks closer seeing it’s you. He exhales shakily at the sight of you, a bright smile on your face as you walk alongside someone he can’t quite place.

“Who-”

“Peter.” Steve answers before Bucky can even finish his question. “Or Spiderman if that’s any easier.” Steve shrugs, watching you playfully shove Peter as you laugh happily with him.

“She looks happy.” Bucky mutters as Peter wraps his arm around your shoulder and you rest your arm around his waist. “That’s good.” He lies to himself as he steps away.

“Bucky,” Steve trails off as Bucky walks away from the window, heading back to the lift with a heavy heart at the sight of you happy with someone else, someone he’ll never be except in his daydreams.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

@biss-stuff @psychicforest @lourightm @mywinterwolf @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @smilexcaptainx @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated–fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs @eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8 @notbrooklynsblog @scallisonbaby @adoreyou976 @nikkixostan @sarcasticallywitty15

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imagineyouandharry · 3 years

Text

Gypsophila (H.S)

Summary: Prince Harry has been under great pressure to find a wife, and he finds his Queen in a way far more unconventional than he could’ve imagined.

Words: 5,730

Warnings: It’s a bit strange I guess? Idk lol.

A/N: Someone requested a Prince!Harry au forever ago, and then I didn’t really have an opportunity to write for a while, and then this idea sprung up on me and I’ve been lost in this little au for the past few days. It’s like a little twisted fairytale, taking inspiration from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty mostly. Part two is already a work in progress. If people are interested I’ll even put out a little sort of world building lore post with a map of the kingdom etc (I’ve been in DEEP). This part is a bit choppy and barely edited because I was just so eager to write it and get something out, but I would really appreciate any constructive criticism and editing notes! TYSM!! Long story short, enjoy!!!

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Harry Edward Styles did not believe in true love, in fact, he thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. Harry’s certain he’s laid eyes upon every eligible young lady, from his kingdom and the ones surrounding, and he hadn’t felt a single thing when looking at any of them. He prayed every night that he would find his love the next day, and finally be able to put his parents out of their misery and ascend to the throne. At the age of 27, Harry’s the oldest person in his family to not be married, no one every waited this long in the royal family. He would’ve had an arranged marriage at 21, though when his parents suggested that he ran away on a sailing ship for two months. One thing was clear to him: though he may not have experienced love yet, he wasn’t going to ruin his chances at true by being forced into a loveless marriage. It wasn’t only Harry’s parents, but the entire kingdom that woke each day hoping to hear that their Prince had found his Queen. They referred to Harry as the Good Prince, his subjects adored him, and lived for his acts of charity and selflessness, and they only hoped he would find a Queen that would treat them the same.

Harry’s outlook on love changed however, after his most recent hunting trip. Sundays are for family and hunting, that’s what Harry was always told. No day was for Harry, he’d come to learn that. Living under a microscope meant for very little alone time, and almost no guilt-free alone time. He and his hunting party rode across the fields and out to the dense forest surrounding the kingdom, and over the two hour journey Harry found himself agitated with the topics of conversation going on around him. He wanted a break, tired of everyone only ever speaking about royal duties or politics. Harry had discovered a fresh water lake if he went off the trail, and when he realised they were edging closer to his favourite place he decided to excuse himself with the excuse of needing to fill his canteen.

The natural spring was a hidden treasure indeed. Harry’s entire kingdom was cut off from the rest of the world due to the thick forestland surrounding it. There was only one trail in, and one trail out, and even then only experienced riders were able to make the journey. The end of the trail, in the deep of the forest, was also often lined with thieves and outcasts making it not the safest journey. This spring wasn’t necessarily hard to find, however thick trees that lined the main trail hid the spring, the gorgeous wild flowers, and clearing of soft grass either side. Harry tied his horse to his usual tree, softly parting the bushes careful to not cause any permanent damage, and stepped his way through. His kingdom was full of hidden treasures like this, tucked away in places only to be found by those adventurous enough.

The sound of the running water was most prominent, however the closer he walked to the spring, the more he could hear a faint, delicate singing voice. Harry couldn’t recognise the song, but it was one he’d never forget now. It felt as though his heart dropped in his stomach, and he had to lightly scratch his arm on a branch to double check he hasn’t died and was hearing an angel of heaven sing to him. He walked closer, with quiet footsteps so not to disturb the singing. He knelt down to the edge of the spring and began to fill his canteen, looking around his eyes eventually focused on the source of his siren, standing in the clearing over the other side of the spring as she picked a bouquet of dainty flowers. Lavender, daisies, bellflowers, poppies. Her body was dressed in sage green, the simple dress showed she definitely was not from a wealthy family, but it was simple and beautiful in its own way. Perhaps she sewed it herself, it did look as if it were made for her. He could see her hair shine from here, and the features of her side profile were striking him even from a distance. She didn’t look real. The strange girl across the spring looked ethereal, like her beauty was too surreal for this planet. Had he hit his head? Was he seeing a forest fairy? He hadn’t even realised the staggering increase in his heart rate as he watched the girl, and listened.

He lost track of how long he had been watching her for, snapped out of his daydream when he heard a “Your Royal Highness! We must be getting on!” Harry heard shouting at him from a distance, most likely back where he had tied his horse. The girl had heard the faint noise and her eyes shot in Harry’s direction. His cheeks flushed with heat as their eyes met only for a brief second, before she ran away. The eye contact brought a slight curve to his lips, although she was leaving, at least he got another good look at her.

“Wait!” He called as he stood up, his hand and canteen dripping wet. His eyes softened as she simply left, looking back briefly in her stride, but he’d blown it. “God fucking damn it.” He cursed under his breath as he began to trudge back to his horse, his feet weighing heavy on the ground.

That was the most he’d ever felt, looking at the stranger across the lake singing as if it were for him, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d just lost his future Queen. Half of him wanted to wade through the water and run after her, but Harry wasn’t a often disobedient Prince, when one of his parents or advisors told him to jump, his usual response would be “how high?” It’s ironic how for someone who’s whole life depends on finding his future Queen is given so little time to actually explore a social life, or love life himself. He was always set up with suitors who his parents found best. In the rare times he’s able to sneak away he’d gotten around, and most definitely wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never found a girl who had made him feel the way he wanted to feel about his future queen. He only wanted to please his family, and his realm, but this was the one thing where he refused to compromise.

Y/N was as far away from a future queen as it could come, or at least that’s what her step-mother wanted everyone to think. The entire town hoped to marry their daughters off to the elusive Good Prince Harry, however her step-mother only wanted her biological daughters to have that chance. When Y/N’s father passed away her step-mother sent her out to live as a recluse in a tiny cottage in the woods, she had always feared that her beauty would distract future husbands away from her actual daughters, and didn’t want to ruin their chance of being married. Each Sunday she drops Y/N off the supplies she needs, but that was the only human contact she was given. It wasn’t too bad, she managed to keep herself busy with sewing, baking, or whatever other art or craft she could think of and had the materials for. It was lonely though, and she was ultimately alone.

Well, if you don’t count forest fairies. Y/N hated being outcast into the forest, and spent most of her early months in the cottage crying to whatever wild animal she could find that day that would stick around long enough. Eventually, these wild animals started bringing their fairy friends along with them. They would spend their days with Y/N tending to fruit and vegetable gardens, watering plants, having picnics, and making daisy chains. Her life was simple, and although not one she asked, it was one she was growing fond of. Male company was something she could only imagine and long for, or read about in story books. There were dozens of fairies living in the forest, but she’d become particularly close to a group of some of the female fairies.

Each Sunday before her step mother visits, Y/N will pick her step mother a bouquet of flowers in attempt to win her over, in hopes maybe one day her sweetness will earn her way back into town. Y/N had total obliviousness towards her step mother’s plan, and towards what was going on in the city. This year, any woman over the age of 21 was to present herself to the Prince. Y/N’s 21st birthday fell on the day she was scheduled to be presented to the Prince. The letter had been delivered shortly before she was sent away to the forest, Y/N never laid her eyes upon it though. The letter outlined the royal guard would be coming to collect anyone who failed to present themselves on the day, and to Y/N’s step mother that meant the only option was to make it so Y/N never turned 21, or made it to her birthday for that matter.

Seeing the Prince most definitely did spook Y/N during that day in the field, if her step mother ever found out she’d had contact with a male there was no chance she’d ever be allowed to move back home. She did all she could think to do. She ran. She ran so fast that the petals of the flowers she had picked were ruined in her haste, quickly shutting herself inside the cottage to gather herself before her routine afternoon visit from her step mother. Sure she knew of men to be dangerous and terrible, but she feared her step-mother’s wrath more than anything any man could put her through.

Like any other Sunday, she scrubbed the house and dressed herself in whatever new garment she had stitched herself this week. The fairies had been busy this week and she’d had a great deal of time to herself, embroidering colourful flowers into the soft white linen of the new dress she had made. Her step-mother would bring her fabric and thread to sew dresses for her step sisters. It was something to be proud of, but most likely would be over looked. Little was said upon her step-mother’s arrival, but her character seemed off. Her step-mother’s eyes darted around, checking windows as she insisted on making the two of them tea. Y/N sat down at the small dining table, recounting tales of her week, ensuring to leave out anything about fairies or a boy. She watched a small bunny outside the window, forgetting to speak as awe overwhelmed her whilst she watched its tiny nose twitch. Her daydream came to an end when the sound of the ceramic mug hit the hard wood of the coffee table. “Drink while it’s warm, my love.” Her step-mother told her, sitting down in the seat at the head of the table beside Y/N. It wasn’t long after that that Y/N hit the floor, and her step-mother was shrouding herself in a hooded coat and sneaking out of the tiny cabin.

Elsie, a fairy most close to Y/N, who specialises in healing, came to the conclusion that she was only out for about six hours before the fairies found her. They did all they could over the following weeks to bring her back to life, trying as many possible rituals, potions, and spells to give life to her body once more. Nothing was of use though, and instead they decided to preserve her in a glass case in the clearing amongst the wildflowers. She had professed to them that the clearing by the spring had been her favourite place, so they saw this fit. Preserving her in the glass case was simply because the idea of her beauty decaying away made any of the fairies shriek. Fairies never communicated with humans, however Y/N was different. Elsie had always theorised that Y/N had magic in her blood. Amongst the many spells and rituals they tried to bring Y/N back, they threw in a spell that would hopefully bring her back with true love’s kiss. It was like a safety net, or a ‘what if?’ But they eventually tired and wore out, preserving her was well enough for now. They kept her dressed in the new dress she had crafted for herself, it was so beautiful after all. They had placed tiny baby’s breath flowers throughout her hair, and made sure everything was perfect. They even went as far to adorn her in delicate gold jewellery, with beautiful crystals of all colours. Her body rested upon a large rectangular slab of rose quartz.

****

Harry was dreading sitting in the throne room, while all the eligible females from the town were presented to him like livestock. It made him sick, and left a terrible taste in his mouth. All he could think of was the girl from the clearing. Is she a sign? Is he his ticket out of here? Was seeing her fate? Questions like that simmered over his mind and kept him awake at night, he had been sleeping little and finding it hard to focus on his duties. His best friend Niall was he closest confidant, the only one he had told about the beautiful girl in the clearing that day. Niall cared more for Harry than anyone, really. He didn’t just care about his fame or power or wealth, Harry was his best friend and he hated seeing his best mate so down about his love life and the pressure to marry a woman he doesn’t love. He made it his mission to find the woman, and his detective work lead him down a path he didn’t expect at all. First he went to the clearing where Harry filled his water in the spring, that was where he first noticed something over the other side of the spring that he couldn’t quite make out. He followed the spring and found an area narrow enough to cross, making his way to the structure he’d seen earlier. He didn’t know what to make of this discover, a dead girl in a glass coffin. ‘Forever at rest, only to be woken by true love’s kiss’ read an inscription on a gold plaque. He really didn’t know what to make of this. He didn’t know what to tell Harry.

Sweat lingered Niall’s brow as he made his way back to the castle to find Harry, to tell him of his discovery. “Look… I just need you to come with me and tell me what you think when we’re there.” Niall tells him, his voice somewhat breathless. Niall himself was still in disbelief, shock, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I just- I don’t know what to tell you. You need to see it for yourself.” He adds.

Harry nods. “I’ll come immediately.” Harry tells him, his trust for Niall outweighing anything else going on in his head. Together they rode to the forest, crossed the narrow part of the spring, and towards where Niall had discovered Y/N.

“Is this the girl you were talking about?” Niall asks, however when he looks from the girl to Harry, he knows the answer. Harry couldn’t help but fall to his knees, pressing his palms against the glass as he looked inside. He noticed how long her eyelashes looked, and the freckles on her nose. His nose was almost touching the glass as he leant here on his knees at the side of her, taking her in up close.

“What happened to you?” He whispers, his eyebrows knitting together. Niall gives him a moment before he decides to mention the plaque at the foot of the structure.

“It uh, says something weird about being awoken by true love’s kiss. I don’t know if it’s true, and it’s revolting to think you would kiss a dead body for nothing, but someone has put her here. Someone made this. My grandmother in her old age would mutter stories about forest fairies and their magic… It just makes you wonder, you know?” He ponders, his eyes wandering away. It felt silly to bring up magic, it was something very commonly dismissed.

“Help me get this off.” Harry said as he brought himself from the ground, the soft grass had left green stains on his tan riding pants. He pushed the sleeves of his white linen button down up past his elbows, and the two men carefully lift the heavy glass case up off of the rose quartz Y/N had been resting on. It wasn’t easy, and the glass at the bottom dug into Harry’s fingers before they set the glass piece of the structure down on to the grass. “Alright. Here we go.” Harry said, in attempt to psych himself up for kissing a dead girl. She didn’t look dead though, just sleeping, you could only tell she was dead due to the missing rising and fall in her chest with her breath. “I might start walking back to the horses, give you some privacy.” Niall said, giving him a slight smile. He also didn’t really want to witness someone kiss a dead person, if she didn’t end up waking up.

“Good luck. Take your time.” He adds, part of him had no doubt it was going to work though. The stories his grandmother would tell him of the forest fairies were something he’d always held on to, those stories were amongst his most treasured memories. He’d always had some hope.

Harry waited until he could no longer hear Niall’s footsteps before he leant down close to Y/N, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. He took a moment, if this never worked it was going to be the last time he’d ever see her. He couldn’t fathom coming back to this spot if this didn’t work. His heart began to ache at the thought, it made his chest feel tight, and gave him the urge to rub at the spot.

“I really hope you’re who I think you are.” He whispers as he looks down at her. “This might seem like absolute madness. I don’t even know your name, but if you wake up for me, I swear to you I will be yours forever.” He began, to Harry this almost did feel like a ritual, it felt special, and the words he was speaking were amongst the most genuine he’d ever given life to. “I promise, I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will love you. I will never, ever harm you. I will love you until my very last breath, I just need you to do this one thing for me.” His voice was barely a whisper now, and breaking as hot tears welled in his eyes. He very carefully leant down, pressing his warm, puffy lips against her cold, smooth ones. He didn’t know how long to wait, but it didn’t feel wrong. It was a sweet, tender kiss. His eyes closed, and he felt at peace. It felt more than at peace. The long grass, wildflowers, and tree branches that surrounded them began to stir with wind, petals floating up into the gusts that took them. This girl had a tendency to make him feel like he’s dead and in heaven. Her lips slowly began to warm, and skin began to glow with heat. It felt like they were floating, as if the universe was made up of just the two of them. The flowers beneath him began to grow taller and more dense, and it began to feel like his heart was pulling towards hers. It felt like a tether had been formed, connecting their energy, he could feel as her heart began to pump blood again, and her energy radiate from her skin. It felt too surreal.

Slowly, Harry removed his lips to allow Y/N to breathe. He let a hand lay gently resting on her cheek as he watched her gasp for her first new breath, eyes shooting open as she looked up at him. It wasn’t shock she was met with when her eyes met Harry’s, but peace. The luminous green eyes that were gazing down upon her were like lighthouses, guiding her towards safety. So many questions began to race her mind as she came to reality, unable to decide which one to ask first. As if based on intuition, Harry decided to speak. “I uh- I’m not too sure what happened to you but my friend found you here today and brought me to you. I believe I saw you a few weeks ago, in the same spot. I’m not sure how long you’ve been out here, but there was this little plaque at the end of this thing here, that said something about a kiss to wake you up… I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent, but I couldn’t risk not taking this chance.” He didn’t mean to ramble or to overwhelm her with his spiel, but he was overwhelmed himself with everything that had just gone on. True love’s kiss. His queen. His true love. The other half of his soul, in human form. Y/N’s lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. She closed them once more as she sat up and looked around, swinging her legs off the side of the marble before looking back up to Harry. Her movement had disconnected his hand from her face, and they both longed for each other’s touch once more already. Her eyes began to well with tears as she began to think about how she got here, her last memories.

“I can only assume how overwhelming this must all be for you… We can stay here as long as you need, it’s just us. When you feel ready for it, I can take you back to my home and we can get you showered and fed. I don’t mean you any harm.” Harry doesn’t even need to add that last sentence though, because she can feel it. She can feel his love for her, she could almost hear it if she listened closely enough, as if his heart was now beating a song for her.

Harry stood back, as if to give the doe eyed girl some space. She looked at him as if he was the most precious treasure on Earth, he’d never felt so overwhelmed with love. This was followed by her delicate hands reaching out, taking ahold of his as she brought herself to stand in front of him. “Is it alright if you hold me for a second?” She asked softly, needing time to process things.

It had been so long since she had been touched affectionately, she couldn’t really remember it. Her father was never affectionate, nor her step mother or step sisters or anyone else she’d met. She felt comfortable with the stranger in front of her though, and didn’t have the energy to resist the magnet like force pulling her towards him.

“Of course.” He responds, his voice soft as he wraps his arms gently around her frame, pulling her into his warm figure. Harry was like the perfect, giant teddy bear… but he wasn’t really that soft. Pressed against him she could feel how chiseled his features are. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she relaxed into him, cheek against the skin of his chest kindly revealed by the first few buttons of his shirt being undone. “What’s your name?” He asks, tangling his fingers in her hair to lightly rub his fingertips against the tender skin at the back of her neck.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Yours?” She asks, looking up to the tall, broad man.

“Harry.” He decides on leaving out his royal title or last name.

“Just Harry?” She asks, her eyebrows raising.

“For now. We have plenty of time to talk about me later.” He notes, removing the same rogue strand of hair as before from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. It was almost as if her hair had a life of its own, breathing, like the other flora growing in the forest. He had noticed the baby’s breath in her hair, though her hair moved, they remained in the same places, as if growing out of their place on the strand of hair. “What do you last remember?” He asks, needing to know if whatever put her in eternal sleep had been by accident, or as an act of malice. She looks back away from his face, resting her cheek once more against his chest.

“My step-mother, Styephania came over, she made me tea. That’s all I can really remember.” She said, unable to stop the disappointed sigh from escaping her lips. Maybe she’d had a freak health accident, like a stroke. Just because she’d been mistreated by her step mother her whole life, didn’t mean she was capable of murder. She knew her step mother didn’t put her out here though, this was the work of fairies. They were looking on, hiding in the bushes as they stood witness to young love blossom in front of them, not wanting to disturb the two of them. “I look crazy, and it sounds crazier saying this, but I’m certain the forest fairies are responsible for looking after me and putting me here. The day she came over was the day I think you saw me here, and I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel but I don’t feel like I’ve been a dead body since then. I feel like no time has passed at all.” Harry avidly listened to her speak, her voice like caramel, seeping in his ears and warming his whole body. Harry wasn’t phased by her mentioning fairies, Niall had suspecting this being their work earlier. It was the only explanation Harry could think of. He couldn’t understand why her step mother would leave her here, why she wouldn’t find her help.

He didn’t want to worry his sweet girl now, he wanted to make sure she felt alright, safe, and cared for. His grip on her wasn’t too tight, but firm in a comforting way. “The plaque… It mentioned how you’d only be woken by true love’s kiss.” He figured the longer he waited to tell her the stranger it would be. His cheeks were red, as if embarrassed or ashamed to tell her about the plaque, how strange it all was. Her eyes met his, and the connection gave him whiplash. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, getting lost in the little pools. He wanted to know everything about her, what she liked, disliked, what she ate for breakfast, her favourite songs, flowers, secrets. Everything.

“I don’t know if I know what love feels like. The only men I’ve spoken to are all twice my age. I wasn’t really allowed to see boys. You’re definitely much, much more beautiful than I would’ve imagined a man to be, and I’m certain that my heart is literally beating for you now, since you woke me.” She tells him, the descriptions of heroes in stories she would read, or how she would imagine the older men to look when they were younger, were incomparable to Harry. The compliment made his cheeks flush. With each beat of her heart, it was as if it was pulling her closer to Harry, calling out for him, begging for him to love on her and soothe the ache in her chest.

“How has God made something so sweet?” He mumbles, he hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud at first. “You’re breath taking. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot of them. Even from far away, the first time I saw you… You make me nervous. You make my heart race, and my palms sweat, and I get butterflies in my stomach and nervous when I think about saying the wrong thing or not having you like me. It’s as if you’ve been carved by God himself, like he was showing off when he made you so beautiful. I wish I’d met you sooner.” Those last words burn his throat, how easier the last few years would have been if he had just been able to find her sooner.

*****

Harry sent Niall back to the castle first, having him instruct everyone to clear out the path that the Prince and his soon to be queen would take to his suite, he didn’t want to spook her with people around. The guards had to stay though, non-negotiable. He also had Niall ensure the doctor was on standby, just to check on Y/N and stay in the castle over the upcoming weeks in case anything else happened. Security was going to be increased, and tightened, and a warrant put out for her step mother.

The two hour horseback ride to the castle would give them well enough time to get to know each other, Harry and Niall had also switched horses, Niall’s being the slower of the two. “I don’t want to startle you when we get there. I also don’t know how to really tell you this. I’m in the royal family, so the guards and whatnot are something to just be ignored. They’re for your protection. I don’t know if you heard much of what I was telling Niall earlier, but you’re going to be very safe here, and we’ll find out what happened. I’ll look after you, I promise.” His eyes are ahead as he speaks, looking over the vast green fields ahead of them once they eventually emerged from the forest.

“Still just Harry, to me.” She reassured, sensing his nerves about revealing this information to her. His shoulders relaxed at her reaction, and a smile formed on his lips when his mind began to wander into what their future may be like. His queen.

“Hey, one day that’ll be King Harry to you.” He joked, thankful that it was received with a laugh. Her laughter was almost as sweet as her songs, and for the rest of the journey he made it his mission to mine as many possible laughs out of her as he could, like little nuggets of treasure. After making their way through the fields that lined the forest, they went down a long road that served as a divide between two of the castle’s towns, and at the end of that road just past a small valley of mountains was a sight far more glorious than Y/N had imagined. Her village was a small village that contained mostly candlemakers and dressmakers, and it sat further to the east, people only ever going out there to purchase fine candles and clothing. It was niche though, and not many could afford the fineries the master crafters in her village would create. Y/N hadn’t even really seen a home larger than a cottage, Harry’s castle looked large enough as if it could contain its own little world, a complete wilderness of towers surrounded by fine gardens, protected by a large moat with a standalone drawbridge. Harry didn’t even need to announce himself, the drawbridge was already in the process of being lowered for him.

“I had Niall clear our path, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I’ll introduce you to everyone when you’re ready.” Harry reassures her, she hadn’t even thought of anyone else though, too in awe of the sights around her. Flowers she’d never seen before laced these gardens, with fine marble sculptures and fountains protruding from them.

“I can’t believe this is your home.” Y/N whispers, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Your home too, if you’d like.” Harry replies, though his words immediately shrouded him with nerves about rushing Y/N into anything. It was stupid, they were each other’s true love’s, but it felt wrong being strangers, so Harry tried his best to conceal things. He’d never been in a conventional relationship before, never mind whatever this arrangement is or was going to be. He just knew he wasn’t meant to rush things, so he tried to refrain from expressing his feelings as best as he could. Her arms around his waist tightened, Y/N needing to feel as close to Harry as possible. He held the reins in one hand, the other arm resting over hers around his stomach, holding on to her arm to make sure she couldn’t let go.

“I’d like that.” Y/N reassures, gently rubbing his side to soothe him. Harry was too caught up in his own feelings to pay attention to how calm Y/N was. She could feel his anxiety though, and continued to try to soothe him as best she could. Y/N knew very little about Harry so far, but what she did know was that he was kind, caring, and had a lot of worries. She’d never been a worrisome person, and if anything would even refer to herself as naive, it was something she’d always been almost ashamed of but in this moment felt like maybe she’d been made to be by Harry’s side. Y/N liked the idea of spending her days being Harry’s rock, a voice of reason. She’d rather a man like this than one who had no emotions, that was for sure. It could’ve been whatever was now eternally bonding them, but she swears she was feeling his emotions, able to see his aura if she really studied hard enough. She sunk into him some more, her arms around his waist, cheek resting against his back. Harry made sure to take it extra slow, giving his love enough time to appreciate the flowers. She seemed to like flowers, and his mother took pride in this being the most beautiful garden amongst all of the kingdoms. He couldn’t wait to show her all the fineries that came with his life.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #Prince!Harry #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #new writter #writeblr #fanfic #fantasy #high fantasy #prince

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triptuckers · 3 years

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Not too late - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: yes “maybe a Nikolai x reader fic where the reader almost moves out from their house because Nikolai is always working and they have a fight but make up in the end? please?” Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: you decide to leave the palace, and nikolai rushes to catch up with you to change your mind Warnings: mild angst I think? Word count: 1.6K A/N: I'd sell my soul to have the scene in which alina punches nikolai in the show I loved it so much when I first read it. thanks for requesting, enjoy reading! :)

You wake up and the first thing you notice is Nikolai's absence. Again. He’s never there when you wake up. You know he’s busy. After all, he’s a king. You knew what you signed up for, and you thought you could handle it.

But it’s hard.

It’s hard because he’s always away, visiting ministers or checking up on the progress of whatever project he was currently working on. And if he was at the palace, you barely see him.

His schedule is packed with meeting after meeting, as well as dinner parties with important people you were never invited to.

You felt like you were slowly drifting away from him. And not just Nikolai, but also your friends. Whenever you wanted to hang out with Genya, Tamar or any of the others, they were busy as well.

You never thought a life in a palace surrounded by people could make you feel so lonely.

Of course, you tried to talk to Nikolai about it, but he merely waved his hand in the air, telling you he’s busy but that he does try to schedule some free time every now and then. You doubted it. Nikolai’s first love had always been Ravka.

You didn’t intend to, but you just stopped being as excited as you used to be whenever you see Nikolai. Maybe you were naive to think a life with him would be something like a fairytale. It had been in the beginning, but it seemed like all the magic that once was there, had faded away.

You simply couldn’t accept you’d always be second place. Ravka first, then you. Nikolai is spending all of his time and energy on his beloved country, and you felt forgotten.

Life at the palace could be amazing. You had everything you could have ever wished for, except that one thing you so desperately needed: Nikolai.

Which is why you had decided to head back to Os Kervo. it was where you had first met Nikolai, but also your hometown. You longed for the sea, and the Saturday market, you missed your friends.

It broke your heart, but you had decided for yourself that no life with Nikolai was better than a life in which he was constantly absent.

It would be best if you left in the evening, you’d be able to slip out and start your journey to Os Kervo. Tt would be a three day journey, but by the time Nikolai would find the letter you had written for him, you’d be long gone.

You take one last walk around the palace, taking everything in. This would probably be the last time you’d ever see it.

Luckily, you only see one or two servants as you make your way to the stables. You take your favourite horse, and after one last look at the palace, you’re on your way.

Once you’re out of the city and in the open fields, you let the tears fall. No one would be around to see you cry. You could already imagine the storm of gossip that would hit all of Ravka if anyone saw you leaving the palace with tears on your cheeks.

You ride for hours until you take a break. The tears had stopped rolling down your cheeks a long time ago. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, calming yourself.

You keep thinking back to Nikolai, and if he would have found your letter by now. You shake your head, drowning the thoughts out. Instead, you start to think about your family and friends in Os Kervo.

They were happy for you when you left for Os Alta, even though they’d miss you terribly. You could already imagine the looks on their faces when you came home. You couldn’t wait to eat a home cooked meal, and help out on the docks.

Meanwhile at the palace, Nikolai has found your letter.

He saw it immediately when he entered your shared room. You’d placed it on your side of the bed. It was late, and he was tired, but he didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.

Because you aren’t there. Instead, there was a folded piece of paper on your pillow. It looked like you had never laid down that night.

Frowning, Nikolai picks up the piece of paper, folding it open. He recognises your handwriting and starts reading the letter.

My dearest Nikolai,

I'm sorry, I can’t take it anymore. Ravka is your first love, it always will be. You’ve got a country to run and I don’t want to wait around for you anymore.

It pains me to say this, but I'm leaving. I've tried to hold on, to stay longer, but I just can’t do it anymore. I'm leaving for Os Kervo once I've finished this letter.

Our paths may never cross again, but know that I will always love you,

Y/N

Nikolai reads the letter over and over again, letting the words sink in. You left. And you weren’t coming back. Time and time again he had promised you he’d spend more time with you, but there was always another meeting coming along.

It seems like he had waited too long.

After tucking the letter in his pocket, he grabs his coat and rushes out the door. As he’s sprinting through the halls on his way to the stables, he runs into Tolya.

‘What’s got you in a rush?’ he says.

‘Move everything that’s planned for the rest of the week to next week.’ says Nikolai, not stopping as he keeps on running.

‘For what?’ yells Tolya after him.

‘Emergency!’ yells Nikolai over his shoulder as he throws open the doors.

A servant approaches him. ‘Are you going out for a ride, sir?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’ says Nikolai. ‘Get me the fastest horse we’ve got.’

The servant gestures for a horse behind Nikolai. ‘That’s the fastest one we got, sir.’ he says. ‘Would you like me to wake General Nazyalensky and the twins so they can accompany you?’

‘No.’ says Nikolai. ‘I’m going alone.’

If the servant had his doubts, he hides it well. ‘Very well then, sir. We’ll wait for your return.’

With one last nod, Nikolai mounts his horse and takes off.

Along the way, he keeps ushering his horse to go faster, not caring about how tired it might get. He has to get to you as fast as possible.

When it’s almost dawn, Nikolai spots a horse in the distance.

He could recognise your silhouette anywhere. Nikolai sighs softly and catches up with you.

You hear someone approaching you from behind and keep one hand on your revolver. Just as they catch up with you, and you’re ready to shoot them, you hear a voice.

‘Careful not to shoot me, darling.’

You whip your head around so fast you could have snapped your neck.

Nikolai is riding next to you, his eyes tired but somehow still gorgeous. He’s still in the clothes he wore when you last saw him, and his golden hair is messy. Still, he smiles at you.

‘Nikolai?’ you say. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Very romantically chasing after you, of course.’ he says.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper.

‘I read your letter.’ he says. ‘And I realise I've been an idiot.’

You raise your eyebrows. ‘Nikolai Lantsov admitting he can be an idiot? What kind of reversed world did we fall into?’ you say.

‘The one in which I speak the truth.’ he says. ‘I promised you I would make more time for you, and then I didn’t. I hadn’t realised how bad it had gotten, until I read your letter. I don’t want you to leave, Y/N, ever.’

‘We both know Ravka needs you, Nikolai. I was young and naive to think you could spend as much time with me as you did with your advisors and ministers.’

‘I still can.’ he says. ‘I told Tolya to move everything I have scheduled this week to next week.’

You look at him. ‘You did?’ you say.

He nods. ‘Yes, so I could spend time with you.’ he says.

‘That’s nice.’ you say, smiling at him.

‘It’s a start.’ he says. ‘How about this: we pick a few days, and I never schedule any meeting on those days. I spend them with you, and don��t let anything or anyone interrupt them.’

‘But Ravka-’ ‘Can handle a day or three in a week without me.’

‘Alright.’ you say. ‘I could live with that.’

‘Thank goodness.’ says Nikolai, looking relieved. ‘I don’t know what I would do without you.’

You smile and stop your horse. You tug on the reigns to turn around.

‘Where are you going?’ asks Nikolai.

‘Back to the palace?’ you say, a bit confused.

‘I was thinking we could go to Os Kervo for a day or two.’ he says. ‘After all, I did ask Tolya to schedule the rest of the week free. We’ve got plenty of time. Besides, I met your family like two times before, it’d be nice to see them again.’

‘Alright then.’ you say. ‘After you, your majesty.’

Nikolai rolls his eyes at the nickname. ‘I hate it when you do that.’ he says, making his horse resume walking again.

‘No you don’t.’ you say with a wink, turning your horse around so you can ride beside him.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

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fuwushiguro · 3 years

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@dabitdabi Welcome to playmate life gorgeous! Hawks is one of my favourites to write so thank you so much for sending him my way, I hope this is worth the wait!!

This is part of my Playboy Mansion event, feel free to participate!!

Hawks x f!reader

Genre: smut, (idk if this might be a bit fluffy too??)

Warnings: 18+, virginity loss, consensual sex, mentions of alcohol, oral (female receiving), fingering, mentions of cum, vaginal sex, unprotected sex.

Words: 3.5k

This wasn’t your first Playboy party, and you were sure it wouldn’t be your last. You’d been working as a bunny for around three months now, the first party was a little overwhelming, but the other girls were more than happy to hold your hand through the whole experience. The more parties you attended, the more comfortable you became. You never worried about guests being inappropriate, you weren’t just employees to your boss. You were bunnies, and you deserved to be treated with respect like everyone else attending the parties, you were the stars and made these extravagant events what they were.

You knew being a bunny came with the connotation of being hypersexualised, but becoming a bunny was too good of an opportunity to pass up. You weren’t one of the most popular bunnies since you were a little shy, but you were known by all of the guests who regularly attended these parties. You were often tagged in photos where you’d posed with guests. They’d always leave little comments that made you smile. You had the best job in the world.

Your first instance of trouble came at this particular party. You’d never experienced any guests acting unseemly, but this evening was different. You leaned over the bar to collect a tray of shots to walk around with, when you felt somebody tug on the tail attached to your corset. You ignored it at first, understanding that guests enjoyed playing with the bunnies. However when the assailant delivered a stinging spank to your ass cheek, your attention snapped in their direction. You recognised the man, he was a gruff looking entrepreneur who’s name you couldn’t place right now. It was apparent that he was drunk, you hoped it was just a little bit of teasing. He became a little more aggressive with you, begging you to kiss him and spend the night with him. There were no members of security nearby, but a few of your fellow bunnies did their best to help you get away from him, to no avail.

“Hey, get away from her.” You heard someone speak. You turned to face the soft voice, and struggled to see the man who had came to your defence through your bleary eyes. The drunk man tried to argue. Quickly you rubbed the droplets out of your vision so you could see who was helping you. Before the drunkard could state his case, your rescuer had grabbed him and pulled him towards a member of security to deal with. Some of your friends crowded you and coddled you, making sure you were okay after what happened. The blonde-haired hero came to check on you once he’d dealt with the situation. Before you could think, you rose to your feet with tears flowing from your eyes and ran to the nearest bathroom. You locked yourself in a stall while you broke down, feeling bad that your makeup would be ruined. You hoped that you wouldn’t get in too much trouble for taking the rest of the night off, but you’re sure that the other girls would defend you and explain the situation. You wouldn’t be surprised if the man who groped you got banned from attending these parties. There is a strict policy against any fornication at work, it was a fireable offence. But guests also had a one strike and you’re out rule, they mostly knew better than to try anything as brash as that man had, but he’d regret it now that he wouldn’t be invited to return ever again.

While you continued to cry, you heard the door squeak open, and footsteps approach your stall. You sniffed slightly, but mostly tried to calm yourself down. You couldn’t cry all evening after all, you didn’t want to give yourself a headache. You waited for the person to reveal themselves, assuming it was one of your friends. It would have been hard to tell who was who from the crack under the stall door. You were all in the same uniforms after all. But the shoes were nothing like your uniforms. It was a man, clearly, wearing a pair of bulky black boots and tan trousers.

“Um,” You sniffed, “Sir this is the ladies bathroom.” You alerted him, sure he already knew.

“Yeah, I know, I just wanted to check on you birdie.” He spoke back to you.

“I’m a bunny not a bird.” You corrected him, completely glossing over the pet name he’d decided to give you.

“Yeah I was just, never mind… You’re okay right? Can you come out here?” He queried. Obvious concern in his voice. You declined, you didn’t want him to see you like this. Your eyes were clouded with unshed tears. Your mascara had ran down your cheeks and you were sure your foundation underneath had probably ran too. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer, he asked you again… and again… and again…

“Fine.” You responded.

You flushed your crumpled up pieces of tear-stained toilet roll away and unlocked the door. His expression flickered from concern to sympathy as he saw how upset you were. You walked by him so that you could wash your hands, and you noticed in the mirror that he walked into the cubicle you’d just left. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he returned to your side with several layers of toilet roll. When you washed and dried your hands, he ran the toilet roll under the tap. He cupped your face in one of his hands and lightly dabbed the damp tissue into your cheeks and under eyes. He was trying to help you; he was trying to tidy up your appearance. Why was he being so sweet?

“I think that just might make it worse.” You announced, knowing you were right.

“Okay then. Show me what I need to do.” He requested, “Please let me help you, I don’t want to see you upset like this over that scumbag.” He explained. Your heart clenched a little he was so caring and considerate; you could almost feel your heart melting. You took him by the hand and led him out of the bathrooms. You knew there were a lot of areas off limits and you’d risk losing your job, but you wanted to spend more time with your saviour and give him the chance to help you out again.

☆ ☆ ☆

You brought him to the bunny dressing room. You barged in with him assuming your co-workers wouldn’t be here, but one of them was sitting in a dressing chair topping up her makeup.

“You know you can’t bring people in here to hook up!” She reminded you.

“We aren’t here for that!” You protested, feeling extremely embarrassed. You felt the heat rise to your face and you tried to change the subject, “He just saved me from some trouble, please don’t tell anyone, he’s just checking on me.” You stated, hoping she’d take pity on you.

“Oh I don’t care, you know I won’t tell. I’m just about finished here so I’ll let you love birds do what you need to do.” She teased as she exited the glamorous pink dressing room.

You tried to protest once again before she left but it was too late. The honey-haired man smiled but decided not to join in the teasing. He simply requested that you show him what he needed to do to help you fix your makeup. But instead, you gave him your removal kit. You were done for the evening, there was no way you could go back to work when you felt the way you did. You both smiled and giggled sweetly as he did his best to remove your makeup for you. You chatted a little and got to know each other better, you found out his name was Keigo and he was a friend of the hosts. Once your makeup was off, you gave him a grateful, “thanks” and stood to your feet. The least you could do was escort him back downstairs before you turned in for the night.

“You know angel, you look just as cute without makeup as you do with.” He told you. You were stopped in your tracks as you couldn’t help but blush at the compliment. “Don’t you wanna hang out a little while before I have to leave?” He wondered, hoping you’d stick around. You knew that you shouldn’t, but you were too drawn to the handsome stranger that you couldn’t resist. You sat back down on the comfortable carpet with him and couldn’t help but coyly shy as he stared deeply into your eyes.

“Thanks again for saving me Keigo.” You repeated, you were so grateful for his help. You were sure that security would have helped you sooner or later, but you were truly fortunate that Keigo had been there to rescue you from his clutches.

“It really shook you up, didn’t it baby?” He sweetly questioned, “Have you never had to deal with something like that before?” He added. You shook your head.

“It was scary, obviously, but it wasn’t just that.” You expressed, not sure why you felt so comfortable sharing your personal life with this man.

“What do you mean?” He asked you, placing a hand on your leg. He stroked over your pantyhose with his thumb as he held onto you.

“Oh… I’m not sure I should say,” You started, “It’s a little embarrassing.” You followed. He didn’t speak, instead he just stared intensely into your sweet eyes, willing you to continue if you felt like it. You kept stuttering, starting and stopping your sentence as you tried to get the confidence to confide in him.

“Birdie, I promise I won’t judge you if you want to tell me.” He soothed, hoping to help you get your words out.

“It’s just… I’ve never…” You began. You screwed your eyes shut as you couldn’t bare to look at him when you finished your sentence, “I’m a virgin.” You blurted out. Your eyes were already closed but you felt so exposed you decided to cover your face with your hands too. You were so embarrassed; you were sitting with a guy who seemed too cool for school and probably had a wild sex life. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you opened your eyes and he was gone. But instead, you felt him grab your wrists and remove your hands from your face. Instinctively you opened your eyes, and right at that moment Keigo planted a delicate kiss onto your lips.

“I’m sorry if that was a little forward, I just wanted to show you it doesn’t bother me.” He smiled as he parted from your lips slightly. It was your first kiss, you weren’t upset. If anyone had to steal your first kiss, you weren’t mad about it being this beautiful stranger.

“Can we, um, do that again?” You asked, the words left your mouth and you instantly began to cringe. You hated how awkward you were, but he just had this effect on you. But before you could overthink your graceless comment, his lips were on yours once again.

You got lost in the feeling of his soft lips on yours. He tasted so heavenly; you couldn’t get enough. He got more adventurous and slipped a tongue into your mouth. You weren’t sure what to do so he did his best to guide you. Once you eased into it a little more, your kissing became more frenzied. You couldn’t get enough of each other. What started off soft and sweet became hot and passionate, but you knew you had to hold back. You couldn’t risk getting caught with him or you’d risk losing your job. He lightly groped your breast as his kissing traversed from your lips down to your neck. You couldn’t stop the moan that huffed from your lips, and you bucked against his thigh trying to gain some friction against your clothed cunt.

“You look fucking hot in that outfit.” He mumbled between kisses.

“Stop!” You raised your voice as you pushed yourself away from him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He wondered, confused by your sudden outburst.

“No, you’re great I’m sorry. It’s against the rules for Playmates to hook up with guests, I will lose my job if we’re caught.” You explained. Keigo nodded as if he understood, giving you an innocent smile as he planted a kiss on your lips once more.

“I get it. Sorry I got carried away.” He told you, picking himself off the ground. He held a hand out to you to help you to your feet, “I think I’ll get going. I’ll see you at the next party though, right?” He explained. You didn’t want to see him at the next party. You didn’t want him to leave. But you didn’t want to risk losing your job for the sake of keeping Keigo around. And you really didn’t want to throw your virginity at him just to prevent him from leaving.

“I, um…”

“I’ll have no reason to come to these things anymore if I don’t get to hang out with the prettiest bunny in the whole mansion.” He smiled, lightly brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You weren’t usually one for compliments. You knew guys would say anything to get in your pants. But there was something so sincere about Keigo. The way everything seemed so genuinely sweet and affectionate when he spoke to you. The way he made you feel like you were the only other person in the whole world with him. You loved being a bunny. You loved living with the girls and you loved all of the fun you had at the mansion. But you were in a role in which you were hypersexualised to everyone around you. How could they expect guests to not want to fuck you? How could you be expected to resist someone as sexy as Keigo? You didn’t think you’d lose your virginity like this, but who were you saving it for anyway?

☆ ☆ ☆

You pressed your lips against Keigo’s once again, and he was more than happy to respond. You began tugging at his clothes, indicating that you wanted them off. You didn’t break your kissing for more than a second. He took his jacket off while still deeply kissing you but removed himself quickly whilst he took off his t-shirt. You didn’t break the kiss either while you removed your high heels. You shrunk a few inches but Keigo didn’t mind leaning down a little further to keep smothering you in affection. He began to travel down to your neck once again but settled on the flesh of your breasts that were being hoisted up by your corset. You let out soft sighs as he continued. He crouched down slightly as he began fondling the bottom of your corset that resided between your thighs. He managed to unbutton it as he pulled down your sheer tights and panties. You were about to remove your corset when he asked you not to.

“You look too fucking good in that outfit to take it off.” He alerted you.

You felt slightly embarrassed by the praise, but it didn’t last long when he pulled you down to kiss him again, you were looming over him a little as you did. “Lie down.” He commanded. You did as you were told, eagerly awaiting whatever he had planned. He parted your legs a little, he repeatedly kissed your leg as he travelled up towards your pussy. He spread your legs wider when he reached your sopping sex, and instantly got to work licking your clit. You moaned almost instantly at the contact as your body softened into his touch. He slowly plunged a finger in, carefully working your innocent interior.

“Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop, okay birdie?” He instructed.

“Y-yeah…” You moaned. You’d be crazy to want this feeling to end.

He latched back onto your clit. His licking started off slow, but he eventually picked up the pace. He alternated between licking and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves all while still pumping his digit in and out of your tight cunt. The euphoric feeling caused you to writhe around on the ground. You were compelled to close your legs and clamp them around your lovers head, but he used his free hand to pin one of your legs to the ground while he continued working at your desperate cunt. He slipped another finger inside of you and continued his motions. He frantically began scissoring you open so he could prepare you for his cock. The sensations were too much, you hadn’t felt like this before. You felt a rising knot in your stomach and you were sure it was going to unfurl at any moment.

“P-please, Keigo I… I think I’m gonna.” You panted, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“No.” He spoke. Halting all actions. You were crushed. Why did he stop? You whimpered at the loss of contact and Keigo admired your little virgin hole clenching around nothing. You sat up a little, wondering what was going on. “Lie back down for me angel.” He commanded. You did as you were told, anticipating what he was doing. You knew instantly when you heard the unzipping of his pants. He was going to fuck you.

“Keigo… N-need it. Need it s’bad.” You whined. Your bratty voice earned a smirk from Keigo.

“Yeah? My mouth and fingers made you a little needy huh? I wanted to feel you cum around my cock.” He told you as he made contact with your dripping pussy. The feeling of him sliding his cock up and down your slit alone was heavenly. You were desperate for him to fill out your hole.

“Please, please fuck me now.” You requested.

He lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly sunk himself into you, making continuous eye contact with you as he did so. He was paying attention to every facial expression you made, he didn’t want to hurt you. He was impressed that you took him like champ, he completely bottomed out inside of you and he was more than ready to fuck your brains out.

He set a harsh pace almost instantly, he was aching with such a desperate need to cum. As soon as he saw you he knew that he had to have you tonight. He could see there was something untouched and innocent about you, but he didn’t expect you to be a fully fledged virgin. You were his now. No matter what you’d remember him as your first sexual encounter and no one would ever be able to compare.

He continued drilling into you, thoughts of owning you bringing him closer to his climax. Your arousal was rebuilding too. He began kissing you once again, although it was hard for each of you to focus. The building pleasure in the pair of you caused you both to occasionally moan into each other’s mouths. The sounds being devoured by each other arousing you more, bringing you closer and closer to your highs. He bent both of your legs up to your chest so he could continue pounding you at a deeper angle.

“K-Keigo,” You whimpered, “It hurts.” You expressed, not used to the feeling of him nudging your cervix.

“I’m sorry birdie, I’ll make it better I promise, I just-“ He stopped as he moaned through his speech. Making no attempt to change what he was doing to alleviate the pain you were feeling, “Cum for me baby you’ll feel better, I wanna feel you cum around me.” He huffed into your face. He reached down and began toying with your clit as he encouraged you to let yourself go. The contact was more than enough to send you over the edge. You were forced to keep constant eye contact with Keigo as he fucked you through your release. Your cunt clamped down on him, milking his cock for all it was worth. He rested his forehead on yours as you both came together, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes.

You’d always heard mixed reviews about losing your virginity. You would either hear that it was a beautiful and romantic moment you should give to someone meaningful, or that it’s a terrible time and it has no meaning on your life. You didn’t know Keigo very well at all, but you felt grateful that he was the one you got to share your first time with. For someone who was a stranger, he truly did care about your enjoyment and keeping you safe. He was still between your legs, letting you warm his cock as he laid on top of you. He gently peppered kisses on your forehead and cheeks while stroking your hair.

You were lucky you hadn’t been caught, you were lucky that for now you still had a job. But if he comes back to the next mansion party, you knew that you wanted to do this with him again.

Thank you so much again for participating, it was a pleasure to write this and have you be a bunny for the night! I hope you enjoyed your experience at the party!!

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years

Text

Imagine taking in Mako and Bolin off the street and Mako becoming protective over you.

Warning: Brief street harassment which some readers may find triggering

You were home alone one day when you heard a noise in your back garden. You peaked through the blinds and found two men crouching low in your flower beds obviously hiding from someone. You figured it was the police until you saw Shady Shin’s gang members poking their noses around. You watched curiously and saw the boys made no movement towards the house or to steal anything, they were just hiding but the gang members were rapidly getting closer. So, not really thinking, you opened the back door and hissed at them to get inside. The smaller of the two bounded inside but the taller one paused before sighing and following. You shut the door and turned off the lights. “Who are you and why...” the smaller one started but you shushed him as the gang reached your house. They peaked over the fence but not finding anything moved on. “They’re gone but I wouldn’t go out so soon” you explained turning to face the two men and you finally got a good look at them. The tallest one was very obviously fire nation, chiselled chin, paler skin, amber eyes. The smaller one looked younger and definitely earth nation by his stature and features. They looked very different but there was an air of similarity between them. “Why did you help us?” the older one asked and you just looked between them “are you brothers?”. “We are!” the smaller one cried “Nobody ever works that out! I’m Bolin and this is my older brother Mako”. You nodded looking between them “I helped you because I didn’t want the gang to get you, I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done but I’m pretty sure you don’t deserve what they’d do if they caught you”. Bolin nodded “they’re mad cus we left the gang, we were only in it until we paid off our debt but Shady Shin wanted us to stay so we ran off”. “Bolin!” Mako cried “shut up!”. “Why? She’s not going to go rat on us after she saved us”. The older brother eyed you suspiciously “but what does she have to gain by saving us?”. “Maybe she just wanted to help?” you replied and Mako frowned not believing you. “Look my family will be home soon, my mom and dad are both pretty smart, they’ll be able to get you out of the city and somewhere safe so just sit tight for a while okay?”. Mako looked like he wanted nothing more than to run away but he glanced at Bolin who was sniffing the air “are you cooking something?”. You smirked and led him to the kitchen “it’s only cabbage soup but there’s plenty if you want some?”. “Yes please!” Bolin cried and Mako sighed “Bolin....we can’t pay her”. “You don’t need to pay me” you told the fire bender “my parents would kill me if I charged someone in need”. “We don’t take charity” the older brother snapped and you sighed “well don’t think of it that way, think of it as being a friendly neighbour”. Bolin stared at Mako pleadingly and Mako sighed “fine Bolin you have some but I'm okay”. “Suit yourself the offers there” you shrugged and led Bolin to the food.

While Bolin was eating you noticed Mako standing weird and frowned “where is it?” you asked and Mako jumped. “What?” Bolin asked but you kept your eyes on Mako “where is it?”. Mako looked down “i don’t know what you’re talking about”. You rolled your eyes “my dad’s a nurse, I know how someone looks when they’re injured”. Bolin gasped “they did stab you! Mako why didn’t you tell me”. “They didn’t stab me...it’s just a scratch” Mako said as Bolin started to tear up. You took out a first aid kit and put it on the table “if you show it me, i can help before my dad comes”. “No” Mako said “i’m fine”. You rolled your eyes “i’m not going to hurt you, just let me help”. Mako sighed and lifted up his shirt. Bolin gasped “ow no Mako you’re going to die!” and Mako glared at you. “No he won’t Bolin” you said calmly “he will need stitches which I can’t do but I can clean and bandage it till my dad gets back, okay?” you asked Mako. Mako seemed very angry at the whole situation but sighed “fine” and allowed you to approach him. You had just finished cleaning the room when the door went and your parents and 3 younger siblings all walked in. Everyone paused and you turned to them. Mako threw his shirt down immediately and Bolin stood up so quickly he almost knocked the table over. Your parents took in the situation and nodded “what's happening and how can we help?”.

You explained the situation to your family and they agreed to help. Your father stitched Mako up and you helped as your mother talked through their options. Your parents didn’t even ask what the brothers had gotten into or why they were involved with the gang in the first place. They just asked questions to assess how the brothers could get to safety. Your mother asked if they had any other relative that could help but Mako shook his head “we don’t have any other family”. “Well, we do have some distant relatives in Ba Sing Sei” Bolin added. “But we’ve never even met them” Mako cried “why would they take us in?”. Your father went to speak when someone knocked loudly on the door. “Stay here” your mother said and your father nodded “y/n finish this off for me”. Your parents headed to the door and you worked on sealing and bandaging Mako’s wound.

As you were working you heard the door open and your father ask “can i help you?”. “We know you’ve got them so let us have them or else yeah?” a voice responded and Bolin froze “that’s Hulo and Chehe!”. Mako stepped forwards and you grabbed his arm “no don’t, you’ll make it worse”. I’m not letting your parents endanger themselves for us” Mako cried and gently removed your hand. After commanding your siblings to stay put, you and Bolin scrambled after him. You saw your parents arguing with two men but they paused when they saw Mako. “Ahhh decided to give yourself up eh Mako? You always were the smart one”. Mako stood up taller and didn’t let the pain of his wound show “don’t hurt any of them, we’ll come with you” he spoke confidently. “Not a chance” your mother said and she stepped right in front of the man blocking Mako from his view. You saw the man pause at your mother’s act and they frowned recognising her voice. Your mother was well known in the community, she owned a store not far from your house and was well-liked for being a kind woman always available to help others. You knew she’d helped some of the gang with their wounds before and sure enough so did the men. “You’re the woman from that store, you patched me up once after a fight....I didn’t realise this was your house Ika”. Your mother nodded “it is and anyone in it, is my responsibility”. “Yeah but see they’re shady Shin’s men....”. “They said they paid their debt” your father piped up “this isn’t Shady Shin’s territory, if he lets them go he won’t be bothered by them ever again, we’ll make sure of it”. The men looked at your father and then to your mother “you can promise that?”. Your mother stared back at them “you have my word”. The men stared before looking away “that sounds reasonable but if we see either of them near our territory....”. “We understand” your mother nodded and the men walked away. Your parents closed the door and Bolin cheered “you saved us!” rushing to hug them. You laughed as did your siblings who had not listened to you but Mako just stared. “Why did you do that?” he asked “you know they could just come back now you’ve stood up for us?”. “Then can try” your father smiled “but me and Ika are known for being able to handle ourselves, we’ve always left the gangs alone and they’ve left us alone too, I think we’ll be okay”. Your parents led you back to the kitchen but Mako wouldn’t budge. “But why risk it?” Mako asked “for someone you don’t even know! You put all your children at risk” Mako said gesturing at you and your siblings “just for 2 strange boys? Why?”. Your father frowned but your mother shrugged “because we hope that if something happened to us another person would do the same for our kids” she said simply “the world’s a cold place but it only gets colder if we turn our backs on those in need, I’m not sending you or your brother back out there because it’s the right thing to do, it’s that simple”. “Really?” Mako asked and your dad nodded putting his arm around your mother “yes”. Bolin grinned “i think i’m going to love it here” and Mako frowned “we’re only staying for one night”. Your father went to argue but your mom silenced him with a look “if you say so but you can have a room in the attic for as long as you need it, it’s not charity. We can help you find good jobs and you can pay a small fee for the room and food. But if you’d rather go out in the cold and make it on your own...that’s okay too”. Mako looked down and you smiled at your mother and how clever she was. Your family started dishing out food and you smirked as Bolin took a seat at the table for seconds. Mako let you finish bandaging his wound but didn’t sit down, he stood by the window. Your mom glanced at him and then at you “y/n why don’t you show Mako the room, the two of you could clear out some of the stuff in there?”. You nodded and looked at Mako “this way”. Mako followed you through your house and you smiled “our house is nice but it has a few quirks you should probably know about” you explained “don’t step on the 8th step, the living room door doesn’t close properly....ow and you’ll probably have to bend your head on all the stairs but it’s a good home. Small and crowded but nice” you said and Mako nodded in response. You could see why nobody figured Bolin and Mako were brothers, they couldn’t be more different. You could hear Bolin downstairs chatting loudly while Mako just followed you silently. You reached the attic and flicked on the light. “Wow, this is bigger than I expected” Mako said and you nodded “my mom used it as an office but now it’s mainly storage”. Together you and Mako managed to clear most of said storage and revealed the two beds in the back of the room. “You’ll need new bedding and it might smell a bit musty but we can air it” you said smiling and Mako paused “why are you all so nice?”. You paused “I don’t think we are....we just do what anyone would do”. Mako shook his head “no you don’t...trust me I’ve met a lot of people and they’d sooner chase me and my brother away from their lawn than give us a meal and a bed”. You shrugged “my parents both came from humble beginnings but they had kind people who helped them, maybe that’s why they’re like they are....either way I’d say stop questioning why life’s throwing this at you and maybe just say thank you?”. Mako looked down and nodded “I’ve been rude, I apologise. Thank you for...this, it all happened because you let us both in...so thanks”. You grinned at how awkward Mako was when you heard footsteps and Bolin and your parents appeared. “This is our room?” Bolin cried and you laughed how everything amazed him. “For as long as you want it” your father nodded and Bolin dove on a bed “and we get our own beds too! Mako this is amazing isn’t it!”. Mako nodded and turned to face your parents “thank you for everything”. Your parents blinked in surprise and you smiled just a little bit proud. “It’s no problem” your mother replied and Mako looked down “if it’s okay with you...the plan you said before, could we maybe try that?”. Bolin gasped in suprised and your parents smiled. “Of course” your mother smiled “for the next few days just lay low and rest up and then in the next few weeks we’ll find you a job you like and go from there, sound good?”. Mako nodded his head and looked from your parents to you finally “yes, thank you”. You smiled “no problem” and Mako smiled softly back trying to return the gesture. Your parents smiled glancing from you to Mako. “We’ll let you boys sleep now, let us know if you need anything, bathroom’s second door on the right and there’s food in the kitchen if you get hungry”. “We’ll be okay” Mako said seeing Bolin’s eyes light up at the thought of thirds “thanks again, see you in the morning”. “Good night” you smiled and Mako nodded “good night”. “Good niggggght” Bolin sang and you laughed before following your parents downstairs. “I think we’re going to like it here” Bolin said sleepily into his pillow and Mako nodded “yeah maybe”. “They’re all so nice! I can’t believe y/n just saved us like that and her parents, they’re all something special aren’t they?”. Mako nodded “they sure are”.

2 months later

The house was definitely more crowded with Bolin and Mako in it. The attic was just big enough for them but between you, your 3 siblings and your parents, the two men were noted. The house was always bustling with movement or noise and Mako and Bolin fit right in with that aspect. Bolin was loud and friendly so got on with everyone easily and even Mako began to open up and talk more. The brothers were both very polite and while they laid low from the gang they offered to help in the house as much as possible. Even when Mako got a job (your parents refused to make Bolin work given he was only fifteen) he still pitched in with the chores like you and your siblings did. The main things the brothers did was help your mother with the store and shopping. They were now the strongest people in the house so it made sense but you also got the idea they were protective over your parents after what they’d done for them. You saw the way Mako would give up his chair for your ageing father or how Bolin would pass your mother the first bowl of food and grew fonder of the brothers every day.

Bolin soon felt like another brother but Mako didn’t. There was something about him, his calm attitude or insanely handsome features, that made you excitedly nervous to be around him. You soon realised his cold exterior was an act he had to wear to protect him and Bolin but there was no need for it anymore and you noticed it rapidly slipping away. The more relaxed and genuine Mako became the more you liked him and the closer you became. Bolin would often rush right into whatever game your brothers were playing, being loud and boisterous like them, whereas Mako and you would usually end up on the outskirts avoiding the conflict. You soon came to love the evenings you spent sat in a corner of the living room together and knew you had a small/huge crush developing. You blushed easily around him and both seemed to awkwardly get caught in situations that made your feelings even more obvious.

For instance, one afternoon you were heading out to meet a friend when Mako and Bolin appeared with your mother and the food shopping for the week. You jumped spotting Mako so suddenly and he smiled making you feel weak “hi y/n, sorry didn’t mean to scare you”. “It’s fine....” you smiled back and went to retreat back up the hall so they could pass when Mako shook his head “it’s okay I think I can squeeze past!”. You stepped closer to the wall and Mako tried to bustle past you. He lifted the bags above your head trying to pass you when Bolin crashed into him trying to turn in a hallway too narrow for his broad shoulders sending Mako crashing into you. Mako tensed trying to stop himself from hurting you and managed to not put all his weight on you. He sighed and shot you a nervous smile as you were trapped against the wall by him “sorry”. “It’s not your fault” you smiled back “stay still I think I can slip out”. You tried getting out from under his arm but that was hard. Mako tried lifting the bag but it started to rip so you told him to stop. You ended up having to climb out under his arm and above his leg. Mako was blushing bright red when you managed it and you too felt flustered. You came into the living room to let Mako pass and then stood awkwardly by one another. "So you’re heading out?" Mako asked. You nodded "yes i’m meeting my friend Geho, i should be back late". Mako nodded resisting the urge to warn you about taking the main road not the back streets, a habit he’d gotten into with Bolin that had apparently passed onto you too. You almost sensed that and smiled "i’ll be careful" and Mako smiled "good" and tried not to watch as you walked away. Mako liked you too.

Later that evening your mother realised she’d forgotten to get the meat from the butchers and Mako and Bolin offered to go and fetch it. The shop would be closing soon so Mako and Bolin hurried to the store as quickly as they could. The streets were largely empty and as the brothers stood in the butcher waiting something caught their eye. "Is that y/n?" Bolin asked suddenly and Mako’s head shot around. Sure enough there you were walking, or more like running down the street in the direction of your house. "Who is that?" Bolin asked and they watched as some boy hurried after you calling after you. "That’s her friend Geho” Mako said recognising the boy but he frowned “something is not right". When you lifted your head slightly and Mako saw you were crying he shoved the list your mother had given him into Bolin’s hands and rushed after you. He jogged over to you at a fast pace but when he saw the boy touch your shoulder, trying to make you turn around and face him, he exploded in anger. "Hey" he yelled "get off her!". The boy looked back around just as Mako grabbed him by the shirt and threw him away from you against a wall. Mako held the boy off the floor being taller and growled fire on his fingertips. "Dude what the hell?" the guy cried trying to get free and you spun stound. "Mako it’s okay! Don’t hurt him". Mako frowned "but he was bothering you". "Well yes" you nodded and Mako glared until you touched his arm "Mako it’s alright, he'll leave me alone now, right Geho?". The man glared at Mako "don’t think your boyfriend here will give me much of a choice". "Geho it’s not like that..." you started but the boy swore and just walked away "fuck you y/n". Mako glared and went to follow him when he realised you were still crying. "Y/n" Mako said softly "are you okay? Do you need a tissue? A hug?". You took Mako’s last suggestion and buried your head against him. Mako wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back saying soothing things. Mako held you tightly for a while before it started to rain and he frowned. "Come on let’s get you home" Mako said putting an arm around you and you nodded "thank you".

Mako got you home, upstairs and into your room without any of your family noticing. You sat on the edge of your bed not bothering to remove your coat, scarf or shoes and Mako frowned "y/n what happened". You wiped your eyes and looked at him "i just lost my best friend". Mako sat beside you "how?". You sniffed and Mako looked at you "y/n?". "Geho asked me out...he’s apparently liked me for a while and i had no idea! I told him i didn’t feel that way and he got angry and aggressively persistent. He was trying to convince me to give him a chance and getting madder that I didn’t want to when you got him away from me". Mako raised an eyebrow "he got mad at you for not liking him?". You nodded and Mako shook his head. Mako went to comment on how stupid that was when you sighed "i mean maybe it was my fault, maybe i was too friendly and gave him the wrong idea, I should’ve noticed he liked me...". Mako almost produced fire that idea made him so angry. "No" Mako said firmly "y/n you did nothing wrong! Being friendly is no invitation for a guy to try something with you and you’re not supposed to always know how he feels. He’s a grown man he could just tell you..." Mako trailed off realising that applied to him too and coughed "and to blame you for not liking him...y/n he’s an asshole and you deserve way better friends than him". "But he’s my oldest friend" you sniffed and Mako shrugged "well if he’s a true friend he'll come back and apologise, i think he should beg for forgiveness personally". Mako relaxed to see you smile slightly. "And if he doesn’t then who needs him? You don’t need guys like that around you y/n, nobody should ever treat you that way". You smiled looking up at Mako "how are you so sure?". "Because it’s common courtesy, because it takes nothing to be polite. After all, friends should never blame you for your feelings or things you can’t control, because you’re the kindest sweetest person i know and if anyone does ever treat you that way i will put a stop to it". You smiled softly "like today? You were like a knight in shining armour, you just appeared out of nowhere". Mako smiled "i’m just glad i was nearby, when i saw him reach out for you...". You tensed and Mako frowned "but you’re okay, you’re safe" he rushed to reassure you. You nodded "thanks to you". "You know i can teach you some stuff" Mako told you "so you know what to do if a guy tries to grab you like that again". "You can?" you asked and Mako nodded "there’s actually a lot of ways to get out of holds and to reverse them on the person, I can show you a bunch of ways to protect yourself". "You’d help me with that?" you asked and Mako nodded "of course!". You smiled "thanks Mako that’s amazing! I’m so glad i met you". Mako’s heart lifted and he smiled "i’m glad i met you too". He wanted to tuck that piece of hair behind your ear but didn’t want to touch you and scare you after what had just happened. "I think i’m going to shower and then go to sleep" you announced and Mako nodded standing up. "Thanks for today" you smiled at him and Mako nodded "no problem and if you need me, for anything, even if it’s just to have someone with you until you fall asleep...just call me". You smiled "thanks Mako" and he focused on your watery eyes and red nose and just wanted to comfort you. "Can i hug you?" he asked and you blushed but were so pleased he asked for permission. "Yes" you smiled and he wrapped you in a hug. You hugged him tightly feeling safe there and when you seperated Mako was worried to see you were crying again. "Y/n are you alright...". "Yes you just make me feel safe" you smiled through tears "that’s all". Mako blushed and felt so proud he made you feel that way. “That makes me glad to hear, I’d do anything to keep you safe and well....all your family” he trailed off and you smiled. “Well you do so thank you...for being you I guess?” you said awkwardly and Mako laughed. “No problem...I meant what I said, just bang on the ceiling if you need me” Mako said as his room was above yours. “Thanks Mako” you smiled and Mako nodded leaving your room.

Mako closed your door softly and walked to his own room. Bolin burst in soon after and gasped “where’s y/n? Is she okay?”. “She’s alright, her friend was harassing her but I got him to leave her alone, hopefully he’ll never go near her again but if he does....”. Bolin laughed “I can imagine what you’d do to him for messing with y/n given your feelings for her”. Mako blushed looking away “is it that obvious?”. “Ow yeah to everyone apart from her” Bolin nodded “but maybe not after today”. “I’d have helped her regardless” Mako explained and Bolin nodded “yeah I know...but I don’t think you’d be so emotional and protective, all i’m saying is she might’ve noticed that”. “Maybe” Mako nodded “but after what she’s been through the last thing I want to do is to put any pressure on her”. Bolin nodded “i get that, so just let her come to you, or wait for enough time to pass and then ask her out”. Mako nodded “I think the first option” and Bolin smirked “chicken!”. Mako shook his head “you didn’t see how upset she was, I’d do anything not to see her cry again...I’ll let her come to me if or when she wants to, I’m not going to stop showing I care about her but I’m also not going to force her to decide anything, I’ll be here if she wants me” Mako said adamantly. Bolin smiled “aww my big brother all in love, so cute”. Mako blushed and pushed Bolin away from him. “You’re an idiot” he huffed and got into bed turning the light out. Mako listened as Bolin pottered around the room and he sighed. “You’re not an idiot Bolin you’re just...accurately annoying” Mako clarified. “I know” Bolin smirked and Mako rolled his eyes. Bolin was exactly right, Mako had fallen for you hard and he’d do anything to protect you. He meant what he said though and wouldn’t pressure you in any way, he’d wait for you....as long as it took.

____

I only recently realised Mako was only 8 when his parents died and he became Bolin’s guardian which made me really sad...so I wanted to write something where someone looked after Mako for once.

#mako #lok mako #legend of korra mako #mako imagine #mako x reader #legend of korra imagine #avatar mako #lok bolin #bolin #bolin and mako #shady shin #republic city #avatar legend of korra #legend of korra #avatar bolin

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tarotchariotpickyourcard · 3 years

Text

Pick a card reading: What you should like more about yourself!

This one is for the ones on that self love journey, the ones that need a pick me up or have a hard time with self confidence/esteem especially.

So I'm sure it's quite clear. The cards that you pick will reflect why you deserve to be more loving to yourself, what wonderful qualities you have, and maybe help convince you to lessen your negative inner language.

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Please pick one of the groups ( 1, 2, 3 or 4.)

You might be drawn to an item, the card itself, or a number. Please calm your mind and meditate for a minute.

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Side note: If you have a hard time choosing, or nothing seems strong to you, perhaps you could come back later on and try. Do not pressure yourself, darling.

Number one is the badge saying "yup"

Number 2 is the wing

Number 3 is the little bird

Number 4 is the chain saying "BE MINE"

GROUP 1 : (Yup badge)

Morning affirmations, Joy, Strength

6 of wands, 4 of pentacles, Mother of swords

What an interesting blend of character you are!

With the owl, this is a strong suggestion that you are able to see through deep into situations and understand "in between the lines". A great communicator, the queen of swords can be straight to the point, brilliant and not to be messed with. Your ability to say it like it is might be perceived as a little harsh to very sensitive or younger people, however it is a strong and much needed trait in the world. We need people with the organisational skills and know how of the mother of swords! The queen always reminds me of someone who is a good teacher, and a fair person.

With the 6 of wands and the 4 of pentacles, the combination hits in a way of potentially dulling that light. The traits I list may be some that you are aware of in a way, but perhaps have a lesser opinion of. The interesting mix of you is in the way of you being so strong, able to endure and be positive, yet a wonderful balance of being able to have boundaries. Again, I'm seeing the strong ability to recognise when someone is being a "rat" as the animal is right next to the owl. I can't help but get the idea that it is direct experience. I would be surprised if you haven't recently come to a revelation about a person in your social circle, or cut someone out/created more boundaries.

Strength mentions having resilience, coming through things more compassionate, stronger and brighter. Brighter being strong in focus to me, as it is next to joy. Your ability to have fun *despite* issues or obstacles is an enviable trait! I really feel that while you might have your difficulties, you never let them suck you in for too long mentally. You seem to try and stay positive through things, and not everyone can do that. You are also much more smart/knowledgeable than you give yourself credit for. Don't let anyone put you down, because you're being shown that if you go for what you've been studying/working at, with strong persistence you can succeed. I feel like the branches signify people who have acted as obstacles, or your troubles in life. This is confirmation you can rise above them, and if you're stuck right now, please accept my confirmation that things can and will change. Life can't help but flow, no matter how people may try and resist. So if anyone is putting you down, or getting in your way - know that their resistance to your future and well being is futile.

You keep having those boundaries. Keep on keeping on. You're sharp, you're witty, and of all things you have kept your kind heart. One day the joy you try to find in the little things will come to you effortlessly and in x100.

I got the need to call you cherub. Chin up, Cherub.

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GROUP 2 (the wing)

Wait, generosity, magic, peacefulness

The hermit, Ace of swords, Son of swords.

eYou're an extremely thoughtful person, aren't you? I get social activist vibes, the kind of person who thinks about bigger issues than just in their personal world, and could debate very well. The ability to get to the kernel of truth within an argument or bigger pattern in the world seems equal to none. If you have a hard time accepting that your opinions mean something, or you would be able to be persuasive, this is confirmation for you that actually - yes - you do have something meaningful to share with others.

In this pile I'm seeing a more peaceful, patient character. Someone who simply tries to be good, and do good for others. You create magic for other people. My heart swells at this, as I'm seeing reciprocity of kindnesses between you and others over time.

While The son of swords on it's own could potentially be quick to intervene or make a judgement, with the hermit and wait, I'm feeling more that you take the time to think things over. For example, if asked to make a decision, you would want to take your time and really think. If you were asked what your thoughts were on a political stand point, you would think in depth and make no judgements from the surface. This is so helpful, as there's less chance of misunderstanding/unkindness as well as the ability to make better long term decisions for yourself.

Very introspective, and the ace of swords suggests you have great clarity of mind. I can imagine you would be a wonderful person for explaining complicated matters to a wide group of people.

Generosity is what it says on the tin: You are a generous human. That is so, so important. There are many people out there who might feel like no one thinks about them or cares, and you come in and surprise them with something, or offer them help without them asking. It makes people feel valued, and like they are important or have a place in someone's life.

Peacefulness suggests not inviting drama, and I get 2 things. You might be described as grounded, or "chill". As well as this likely suggests your lack of interest in being within a dramatic situation. You are likely very good at looking at others drama, and seeing where it truly stems from, as well as having a good idea of advice for them. If you have friends right now, it's likely they feel peaceful being around you and that they can truly calm down or get your advice on their *own* drama.

You are so important to the people around you, and if there are people that can't appreciate you, I promise you they have *no* idea how lucky they are. You offer so much as a friend, confidant, and as a person who cares for the worlds well being. I appreciate you.

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GROUP 3: ( Little bird

Blessed change, gratitude, engagement, follow your heart, father of pentacles, the empress, the star

You're cool.

Right off the bat, I see your ability to see the silver lining, to take changes as they come (and I don't mean you happily drudge through hard changes, I mean more like you accept them more easily than others). Do you know, it really helps a persons resilience in life if they can have gratitude for things in general, as well as seeing the positive affects of life changes. You have an ability to notice the opportunities in said silver lining. An example I've read in the past involved a man who lost his job, but an opportunity came up for something he was passionate regarding his hobby. He would not have been free to do it unless he was let go of.

You're my free flowing group. Very adaptable. You're able to take time out to really think about what you truly desire in life. When themes like this come up, I really get the idea of authenticity. To put a focus on following your heart, being grateful for what you've taken part in and even quirky circumstances is a massive strength. Do you have any idea how scary that is to people? To wake up and think "My heart wants this, I'm going to actually aim for it because I need to be myself." That's terrifying to many!

Note: If you are finding it hard to be upfront or true to yourself due to fear, this is confirmation that you will be able to in the future. Take your time, as this will come naturally to you.

I know you might be shrugging thinking, but sometimes I get really negative or scared too. I won't say that's not a thing humans experience. What I am saying however, is that you have that strength of character to say actually, nothing would be worse than to answer to my fear. Fear of self expression, fear of being judged. Fear of not having your project liked. These kinds of things.

I feel like you're a fun person who is very interesting to people/has had at least one very interesting or unusual experience. I want you to know the cards are showing that people really enjoy speaking with you, and hearing your stories. So no negative self talk of being boring, or disliked.

Your flexibility, and your ability to be sociable, yet able to pull back appropriately is wonderful. The world needs those who can be more easy going as this can help people de-stress and stop thinking about their worries.

I'm seeing wonderful creativity, and again, being able to be social and talk to many people very well. You're a shining star, and you're supposed to be!

I wonder if sometimes you feel like you need to be "more" productive, but let me tell you... Networking with people is half the job.

I'm also wondering (as a rainbow stands out) if some here are part of the LGBTQIA+ community. It would make sense with the authenticity. If you have a social media presence, or a creative project you want to get out, or expressing your personal experiences to the world - this is confirmation to keep standing tall, stand proud because yes, you do have a lot to offer! King of pentacles next to the empress also suggests you might be on to something that can bring in some income for you. Again, even sharing your experiences is very valued and may well be it. The world itself wants to see you, or whatever you desire to create.

If you have a hard time focusing or being practical, darling, you get along well with others for a reason. Ask for help, whether it's family, friends online, a teacher, anyone. There's help to steer you further in the right direction. You're a beautiful person and you matter to people. You are loved, so please love yourself.

There's something here that seems upset, and I just have the biggest urge to hug you! So if you will, accept my many energetic and virtual hugs!

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GROUP 4: "Be mine"

Worthiness, Ups and downs, courage

Ace of pentacles, Ace of wands, daughter of wands (reversed)

Daughter of wands reversed suggests to me, that you have the traits such as this, but perhaps not the confidence in yourself right now about those things. The book describes her as passionate, visionary, cares more for career and starts a family later; stubborn, strong (i take this as physically actually) and may be going through a spiritual breakthrough or a big change. With this I get the thought that you probably don't recognise just *how* passionate you truly are. You might be finding it hard to go a certain way in your career and studies. There might even be some worries that you might not stick at it. But what you are not realising is your actions have magic in them.

If you are interested in LOA: Your actions manifest not only in a practical sense, but *that's* what truly gets the energy moving. You need physical expression of some kind.

I'm getting such practical, but passionate energy. The ace of wands with courage? That's amazing. Fire sign or not, you have classic fire energy. Even when you lack confidence, you have a strange inner ability to be brave even at your worst times.

Oh, if only you had the confidence to aim!

Your energy and action are seriously magnificent. You have a *lot* of inner energy, spiritual energy, physical vitality. If you have health issues this might sound strange to you - but I get the idea your body was built with a lot of vitality available. You might have really struggled in life with ups and downs here, but I'm seeing you crash right through all the barriers and try to do life the best way you know how. No matter your struggles, you are a warrior here.

The 2 aces here (that is so interesting to have seen) show that you are probably quite good at beginning new things, and when you're motivated, you're MOTIVATED. I'm getting the idea that when you *do* take action on a goal, you go at it with everything and it can surprise people.

I'm seeing creative ability. It's an ability that I have seen myself. An example would be.... A mistake is made in a piece of art. It didn't go the way you wanted originally. But, wait a minute... that's starting to look like something, so I'm going to change it all up and create something completely different than intended.

It's seeing potential in a small detail. I'm seeing original thinking.

I just see a bulls eye, and such great energy and ability, but the lack of confidence. And so, I feel like you're at a time where you're stopping yourself, or won't aim for something out of fear of failing. I also got the sentence biting your tongue. I'm sorry if you're in a situation where you can't speak up for yourself, as this is not aligned with your character.

Overall I believe your a creative but practical person, and have the ability to really pull through and create wonderful things. You can be *very* brave as well as motivated and so I feel you inspire others, as well as surprise them.

I really do feel that with worthiness, it is hinting to confidence/self esteem issues as it says "know that you deserve to receive good in all ways".

You deserve to be successful. You deserve to take the career path that you have been thinking about. You deserve people to treat you well. You deserve to have that hobby, whether you're "good" or not.

Deep down somewhere you know you are bigger than this. I am wishing for a healthy full confidence boost for you and some new energy to help push you.

Please have the courage to aim, as bob ross says:

"we don't make mistakes, we make happy little accidents"

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And that's the last of them! I hope you enjoyed, and I hoped this help you feel a little better about yourself. We need to cheer ourselves up sometimes and let ourselves think good things. We attract more honey with sugar after all!

Until the next pick a card!

Thank you!

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bestofbucky · 3 years

Text

The Signal (1/2)

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, canon level violence, swearing.

Summary: You go on a mission with Bucky.

A/N: Part 2 will hopefully be up sometime soon.

“You ready doll?” Bucky asked as you were nearing your drop off point.

You nod back, not trusting your voice. No matter how many times you have had to parachute from a quinjet it will never get easier. Of course, Bucky can tell how nervous you are by the way you avoid eye contact and start tugging at the straps of your harness. He pulls your hands away replacing them with his own as he safety checks your parachute.

You know that you have done it all correctly but having him double check it is the reassurance you need. You watch him, his slightly furrowed brow and tongue poking out giving away how concentrated he is.

He finishes his final check and looks up at you, “What are you smiling about?” He can’t stop his own grin from spreading across his face. Bucky didn’t just smile with his mouth, he smiled through the crinkles in the outer corners of his eyes, he smiled through the scrunch of his nose and he smiled through the relaxation of his whole body.

“You.” The contentment you feel, that comes from simply being near Bucky, is obvious in your body language and voice. His eyes glimmer as he leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Bucky had joined the team about two years ago. For one of his first missions you were paired up, you worked so seamlessly together that it would be silly not to put you with each other for more missions. This resulted in the two of you becoming close friends, he trusted and confided in you and you felt the same.

It would be normal for the two of you to be holed up together after a tough mission, looking after the other but not wanting any social interaction with anyone else. You were both extremely similar like that, tending to fall inwards but you both became experts at drawing the other one out.

It was a natural transition from friendship to romantic relationship. You had just come back from mission and you were cuddled up in Bucky’s bed watching a film. Bucky had turned to you out of the blue and asked if you wanted to go on a date with him to which you immediately agreed. The feelings were already there from the bond you had formed, it was just the physical side that was needed.

This wasn’t a difficult thing to develop for either of you. Bucky had never met someone who completely overwhelmed his thoughts and feelings as much as you did. You were always on his mind whether it was a comment Sam made that he knew you would be on the floor laughing at or a mental picture of you sleeping, the morning light making your skin glow softly. He thought you always looked like an angel but especially in those moments.

You had never met anyone who's laughter was so infectious, it had become addicting to be the one to pull those noises from him, to lose yourself in his lopsided grins and crinkled eyes. He drew you in like a butterfly to nectar. You couldn’t get enough of him. His voice, his hands, his kisses.

This mission, on paper, was a simple one. Apart from jumping out of a quinjet and landing onto a moving train, all you and Bucky had to do was stop an illegal trade. That’s it. The mission file didn’t cover who the parties involved in the deal were. From your experience, being trained at the Academy and moving up the ranks of SHIELD before finally becoming an Avenger, you know that illegal trades are normally between civilians who are in over their heads in some kind of criminal group. However, not long into the mission you realised it wasn’t simple at all.

It turns out that one of the ‘unknown parties’ is Hydra, never a good sign. The weapons they are dealing are enhanced with alien technology and they somehow knew that you and Bucky were coming. The only reason the mission didn’t get pulled is because the rest of the team was on standby, ready to step in at any moment.

In fact, the job got so complicated, so quickly, that you and Bucky found yourselves at the back of the train, severely outnumbered and being pushed closer and closer to the edge of the train where the back wall had been blown to pieces by the very weapons involved in the trade.

It was loud, the sounds of fighting were drowned out by the noises of the wheels on the tracks. The train was moving fast and the wind was whirling around the carriage meaning just one misstep could send you flying off the train and landing on the tracks below.

There was a moment when you thought you were a goner, but Bucky managed to haul you back into the carriage, putting himself between you and the edge of the train. A move that warmed your heart, knowing his history with trains was not a good one.

“I fucking hate trains.” You remember him saying when you had first got the mission brief. “Nothing good ever happens on trains.” You had laughed back then, but there was nothing funny about the situation you were in now.

The next ten seconds seemed to happen so quickly. One of the attackers yelled something in what you assumed to be German, he was holding the weapon you recognised to be the same as the one that blew out the back wall of the carriage. Next thing you knew Bucky had wrapped his arm around you and was launching you both off the train.

Time slowed and you seemed to float mid-air as you watched the carriage go up in flames, shrapnel flying everywhere, the heat burning your eyes and forcing them closed. Then came the impact of the fall, quite luckily Bucky had managed to aim for the snow on the sides of the train tracks and not in the train tracks themselves.

Bucky immediately sits up and sends the signal for extraction, he then starts checking himself for injuries. You are lying on your side facing him, half your body concealed by the snow, the other half just poking out. His eyes travel to you as he looks over your body.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” The concern was clear in his voice.

“No, I think I’m ok.” You try to move yourself but wince slightly. “I think I landed funny though because my side hurts.” You manoeuvre yourself onto your back. As soon as you get your right side out of the snow a gasp causes you to snap your head towards Bucky who is just staring in shock at your stomach.

His eyes are wide, eyebrows slanted upwards and mouth open slightly. You know whatever it is can’t be good. Gathering up the courage to look down at your stomach, you lift up onto your forearms. Finally looking down, the sight causes bile to rise and you have to stop yourself from gagging. A piece of shrapnel about the size of an A5 piece of paper is sticking out of your side. There is so much blood around it that it is hard to tell what it is and how deep it has gone.

It’s as if looking at it made it real because the pain suddenly hits you. Out of instinct your hand flies towards the wound to try and hold it or soothe it but Bucky quickly catches your hand stopping you. It’s like a flip switched in his mind. He suddenly starts stripping off his clothing. He takes his shirt and undershirt off before putting the rest of his gear back on. He moves behind you, placing his legs either side of you and lifting your upper body carefully, so you are now leaning on him. He manages to wrap your wound, careful to go around the shrapnel to try to stop the bleeding, but not push it in anymore. He continues to do the same with as much of his clothing as he can afford to lose in the snow. He takes your left hand and puts it over the clothing, then places his hand on top, telling you to press down as hard as you can, as he does the same.

You start to feel lightheaded, the pain in your side only getting stronger.

“Stay with me doll, backup is on its way. They’ll find us.” Bucky is practically begging and you try your hardest to keep your eyes open.

“You were right.” You say after a while and Bucky gives you a puzzled look. “Nothing good ever happens on trains.” You chuckle at your own joke but quickly stop when it causes shooting pains to fly through your body.

Bucky lets out a sharp breath from his nose. “When you get through this you will be able to join my ‘I survived a fall from a train’ club.” He jokes smiling down at you.

“I can’t imagine there are very many members of that club.” You smile back at him and he laughs, you can tell he is trying to distract you but you let him anyway.

“No, at the moment it’s just me. The events the club holds are very fun though!” His eyes light up as he continues to look down at you. “We’ve had freight night, that was watching scary movies that have a train in at some point. There’s train reaction, which is like the telephone game, that one was quite difficult with one person.” He laughs at himself which makes you giggle, trying not to contract your stomach. It doesn’t work and the shooting pains are back. The smile is still clear on your face and Bucky reaches his free hand up to push a bit of hair behind your ear.

“Bucky.” You whisper to get his attention, the words you want to speak are clear in the look of longing in your eyes.

“No, baby please I don’t want to hear you say whatever you are going to say. You fight through this and you can tell me whatever it is when you’re better.” A frown is clear on his face.

“But I-“

“Please doll. You want to tell me whatever it is so badly, then use it as a reason to fight this. To come out the other side.” You scan his face and from the crease lines in his brow and the desperation in his eyes you can tell he already knows what you want to say.

You both fall into a comfortable silence. You realise being in Bucky’s arms is probably your favourite place to be. Feeling his chest steadily rise and fall, your head gently moving with it. You feel so protected, cherished, peaceful.

That is until Bucky looks down at your stomach to see that all the clothing he tried to use to wrap the wound has been completely soaked in your blood, he visibly winces. You move your head slightly to try and get a look but Bucky uses his free hand to tilt your chin up so you are looking at him instead. He holds the eye contact as he takes his jacket off and drapes it over you, covering your wound from your sight and warming you up as much as he can.

As secretively as he could, he sent the signal out to the team. The signal only used in extreme emergencies. Three long holds. The signal to say an agent doesn’t have long left to live.

The sharp sting of the cold has faded into exhaustion as the pain retreats from your body leaving behind a numbness you have never experienced before.

“I always thought I’d be alone.” You say pensively, “I never thought about death too much. I just always assumed I’d be alone when it happened.” You were slurring your words. If you were more aware of your surroundings you would have felt Bucky tense up at your words. Looking up into his blue eyes you wondered if death would be as serene as them.

“You’re not alone. I’m here.” Bucky’s once motivational words, convincing you to hold on, shift to words intended to comfort you, to draw out the fear of your final moments and replace them with solace. You had closed your eyes, his reassuring whispers gradually fading away as he cradled you close to his chest. You wanted to be able to hear his heartbeat but all you could hear was the erratic beating of your own heart pounding in your head.

In the far distance you felt commotion around you so you used what was left of your energy to open your eyes one final time. The sight you were greeted with sent a wave of emotion through you. Your team members, your friends, they were all gathered around you, kneeling or standing in the snow.

“My family is here.” You smile to yourself as you let the tiredness overtake you. The last thing you feel is an ice cold tear rolling down your cheek. An overwhelming sense of calm consumes your body and your worries and fears simply fade to nothingness.

Bucky knew even before the Avengers turned up that your chances of surviving this were slim. You were bleeding out fast and it was showing no sign of slowing. It killed Bucky to know that all he could do was make you as comfortable and reassure you as much as possible in your final moments of life.

When the team got Bucky’s first signal, the plan was for just Tony to go down and retrieve you both. Then the second signal came in. They all silently agreed they would land the quinjet and all go together, maybe to say goodbye if they had enough time. If not, just to be with you when you take your last breath. They all knew that there was nothing any of them could do.

What none of them could have predicted was Helen Cho and a SHIELD team transporting the cradle from one base to another. The flight path directly over your current location. Their quinjet picked up Bucky’s radio signal and they made the choice to land to see if they could help.

Upon arrival Helen rushed straight to you, checking for signs of life, she must have felt something because she ordered for you to be put in the cradle as quickly as possible.

Bucky was frozen, no he wasn’t cold, he was a super soldier, the cold barely affected him. He was simply in a state of daze, unable to move himself to get you into the cradle. Steve could see this and swiftly took you into his arms carrying you onto the other quinjet and placing you down in the cradle. As soon as you were secure Helen was directing a team of people to all do different things. Steve stepped out of the jet, not wanting to get in the way.

No one spoke, they all had their hopes that you would be ok, but no one was particularly optimistic.

“We’ll take her to my lab, she’s not in a good condition and this jet can only sustain the cradle for so long, we can take one or two of you in this jet with us, but feel free to follow in yours.” Helen had stepped out and as soon as she finished her sentence it was like a flip switched inside everyone.

The team made their way back onto the quinjet but Bucky hadn’t moved, he was bathed in your blood, a ring of red surrounding him a stark contrast to the blinding white of the snow. Bucky gratefully accepted Steve’s hand helping him onto his shaky legs. He looked down at where he had just been. The red crater left in the snow told the story of what had happened but Bucky still couldn’t quite believe it.

Steve’s hand on Bucky’s shoulder guided him to the quinjet you were in. He sat there staring ahead unable to do anything more, Steve stayed close by his side but knew not to push anything.

“She wanted to tell me something.” Bucky suddenly breaks the silence but his gaze stays fixed ahead. “She wanted to tell me something and I couldn’t let her finish because I wanted to stay strong for her.” Steve stays silent knowing he wasn’t finished. “I didn’t let her say anything because I knew I would have broken down in front of her.” He continues as tears start to fall from his eyes. He feels everything, guilt, regret, pain, loss, hope but at the same time feels nothing at all. His body numb and still in shock.

“What if it was her dying wish to say whatever it was and I took that away from her.” A crack in Bucky’s voice causes Steve’s heart to contract. He pulls his friend into a hug, Bucky gladly accepting the comfort.

“We both know what she was going to say Buck,” Steve takes a deep breath to try to stop himself from crying, “and we know how she is. If she thought for one second you didn’t know what she was going to say, then she wouldn’t have let you stop her from saying it.”

Of course Bucky knew what you were going to say because he felt it too. He knew, because to kill you both only one of you actually had to die.

Taglist: @vampirewithbedsidemanners @townwitchbitch @velvetcardiganbucky

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nanamixxkento · 3 years

Text

“never letting you out of my sight” (Nanami x Female Reader)

Rating: T

Content Warning: Referenced past sexual harrasment from an authority figure

Word Count: 2,002 words

A/N: this is my first time writing for the JJK fandom! Please be nice ✨

You had gone with Nanami to the mall to grab a bite before heading for Jujutsu High to meet Gojo and Itadori.

Nanami was not in charge of you, and you’d long since graduated Jujutsu High. He tended to act more like a friendly guide and yet, unbidden, the ‘sensei’ honorific would slip out despite your intentions sometimes.

Like now.

Nanami didn’t look offended, he rarely did. He simply regarded you out of the corner of his eyes, body lax. “I have to wonder, do I really look like a teacher figure all that much? I didn’t think so before you and Yuji.”

And you’d almost stammered with embarrassment as you apologised.

“I sure do hope it’s not a bossy attitude on my part,” Nanami mused, sending you into another round of hasty but heartfelt apologies.

“Relax, y/n, I’m just messing with you,” he cracked a small smile. “I think it’s cute.”

Cute. The word thundered in your ears for a moment as your stomach swarmed with butterflies. You mused that it would be wholly inappropriate to respond with ‘I think you’re cute’ and refrained from making that comment.

Instead, you said: “Please don’t tease me, Nanami-san.”

“Ah,” he said lightly, with an airy chuckle. “I’m starting to think I prefer sensei. Maybe it’s growing on me.”

Nanami led you up the escalators, eyes scanning cursorily around. The mall was unusually crowded for this time of the week, but you should still be able to grab what you needed in time before your meeting.

You weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings, your entire focus taken by Nanami’s commanding presence. That was your first mistake.

Your second mistake was pausing by the elegant display of evening gowns to admire the sleek, black dress on the mannequin. Nanami, in his unique brand of kindness, suggested you stay behind to take a look while he ordered your food.

Unfortunately, you were too busy dwelling in the warm, fluttery feelings this man inspired to notice just who else was in the shop.

The familiar voice reached you several long minutes into your trip, sounding just a few racks away.

Your entire body went cold, and instantly numb as you recognised the nasally tenor of your ex-boss. Blood rushed loudly in your ears, and for a few moments that felt like a small eternity, fear left you too paralysed to even move.

This was the man that had tried to ruin your life and very nearly succeeded. The man who had abused your need for a job to get away with doing whatever he wished. The man who had ... who had ...

Your eyes stung with the memory of hot, clammy hands on your shoulders, touching you without heed to your feelings or consent.

The voice drew closer, slamming you into your body with another jolt of trepidation.

You did not want to see him. You never wanted to see him again.

Spinning around, you dashed behind another rack, heart hammering. He was sniggering loudly with someone on the phone, bringing back more unpleasant memories of all the times you’d ask him to stop being inappropriate only for him to laugh loudly, like your request was silly. “Y/n we’re friends,” he would say condescendingly. “This is what friends do, no?”

You turned another corner, trying to make it to the exit unnoticed, when in your haste you knocked over a mannequin. You stood frozen, shocked and mortified, as you stared at the mess you’d made.

That was your third mistake.

“Y/n?”

It would be wholly undignified to start crying, wouldn’t it? You thought cynically as you slowly turned around to face that monster.

You refused to waver, to show your fear. “Yes?”

“It is you!” He cried, taking a step closer and instinctively making you take a step back. “Long time no see!”

He took another step forward, which you mirrored again by taking a step back. His face was twisting into an ugly smile that barely hid the underlying sneer. “Come on now don’t be like that, is this how you treat your friends? Come on and give me a hug, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him, to say ��over my dead fucking body’ when a gentle palm settled over your shoulder.

You barely managed not to jump.

“Y/n,” Nanami’s self-assured baritone washed over you. The sudden all-encompassing relief it bought nearly toppled you off your feet. “Your food is starting to get cold.”

Looking at him made your heart shake. He had an unreadable expression on his face, a slight pinch to the corner of his mouth. He must’ve read your fear in your eyes for his features hardened as he turned to regard your company. “And who might this be?”

Opening and closing your mouth, you floundered, no words passing from your lips but for the hesitant mutter of Nanami’s name.

Your ex-boss, in his usual arrogant fashion, nearly sneered at Nanami as he addressed you. “Aren’t you going to tell him sweetheart?”

It was enough to set your blood boiling with anger. With Nanami at your side, the fear receded to allow indignation to take its place. “Don’t call me that.”

Nanami’s hand tightened imperceptibly on your shoulder.

Your ex-boss didn’t heed your wish. “Aw don’t be like that, sweetheart—“

“I think,” Nanami said icily, cutting him off. “That she just told you to not call her that.”

The frigidness radiating off him made your ex-boss straighten and regard Nanami curiously.

And then a sick smile slowly spread over his face, his eyes taking in Nanami’s suit, his hand on your shoulder, his expensive watch and finally his eyes. “Ah,” he said like it all suddenly made sense. “He’s your new boss isn’t he? Gone to play toy to another man, y/n? Does he treat you better? Does he pay you better to use your—“

You gasped as Nanami smoothly stalked forward, grabbing your ex-boss by his meticulous oriental-tie and yanked him closer, nearly lifting the man off his feet.

“Okay, let’s make one thing clear here,” Nanami said, voice unwavering but body coiled with what you recognised as anger. “I don’t know who you are. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck who you are. But this conversation is over. Turn around, and walk away. I won’t give you another chance.”

You watched as your boss glared at Nanami hatefully for a long moment as your heart raced and raced, and more butterflies—and crap, maybe some arousal too—flooded you.

But then his hateful gaze settled on you and he opened his mouth to no doubt make another scathing remark.

Sooner than he could talk, Nanami’s long fingers were framing his jaw and forcefully directing your ex-boss’s gaze back to him. “Don’t even look at her.”

Your ex-boss finally relented, yanking Nanami’s hand away and stepping back to fix his suit. “Fine,” he spat. “I hope you enjoy your useless toy. Pathetic.”

You and Nanami watched him walk away silently. There was shame now as the anger receded.

What did Nanami think of you now?

You stared at the toppled mannequin, the death grip you had on your bag, and finally to Nanami, who looked more than a little ruffled now that your ex-boss was gone.

He turned to face you, and you opened your mouth to apologise, “I’m—“

“Are you okay?” He grit.

You blinked. “Um. Yes. I think. Are ... are you okay?”

He didn’t look okay. He looked angry. You couldn’t even remember ever seeing Nanami angry. “No,” he said shortly. “Who was that? What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?”

The barrage of questions left you a little dazed. You had no idea how to even answer but you attempted to anyway, stuttering under Nanami’s gaze. “That was ...” you swallowed thickly. “He was my ex-boss.”

You hated how it came out as a weak whisper, but you hadn’t wanted to utter his name ever again.

Your mouth opened and closed over all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t—all the things you never told anyone about. Nanami watched you struggle for words, and his expression only darkened. “Y/n. Did he hurt you?”

You stared at your feet as shame nearly overwhelmed you and you choked out, “Yes. But I— I let it happen— I had no choice, I needed the money, I couldn’t just— and he wouldn’t ever listen when I said to stop—“

With a jolt you realised you were crying, and with another jolt you noticed Nanami loom closer.

A gentle hand cradled the back of your head and pushed you into Nanami’s study chest, not quite a hug, one you could easily break if you wished to.

“I’ll kill him,” Nanami vowed softly, the icy softness still there but overshadowed by the gentleness of his tone. “I will.”

You shook your head, shuddering as your arms snaked around his middle and you unabashedly buried your face in his shoulder. “Please stay.”

“I’m here,” he soothed, still speaking in a hushed tone you’ve never heard before. “You’re okay. You’re safe now. I promise.”

The security of his presence washed over you again, tempting your knees to give out.

“I won’t ever leave you alone again,” he added, stroking the hair at the crown of your head. “Would you like me to cancel our meeting?”

You shook your head mutely. “I’ll be fine,” you managed to croak and reluctantly broke from his embrace to wipe hastily at your tears. “Sorry I ruined your shirt.”

He glanced down distractedly at the small wet spot on his dress shirt. “Don’t be silly,” he chided. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes one final time and taking a settling breath. “We can go now if you want.”

He studied your face closely for any signs of deceit. “We really can cancel the meeting,” he said slowly. “Gojo would understand.”

You bit your lip, tempted. You still felt shaken and unfocused and all you wished for was to go home and curl under your covers.

Nanami apparently took your reluctance as an answer for he immediately whipped his phone out. He sounded strange as he spoke to Gojo, his words short and his tone barely keeping the anger out.

When he finally ended the call, he looked at you. “Would you like me to take you home now?”

“Um,” you said, embarrassed yet again but feeling warm to your toes. “I... I would prefer it if I didn’t have to be alone so soon.”

Nanami simply nodded. “Very well.”

You stared in surprise as he offered you his hand but you took it with only a moment’s hesitation, feeling his large palm completely engulf yours.

“I told you,” he said in answer to your silent question. “I won’t leave you alone again. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Now you were sure you were blushing as he led you out of the shop, hand in hand, uncaring for the toppled mannequin or anything else. His grip on you was firm but not tight, and he radiated safety with every step until all the poisonous feelings bled out of you.

“Y/n?”

“Mhm?”

“You would tell me if someone bothered you again, wouldn’t you?”

There was no resisting the smile now, tentative and affectionate. “Yes.”

“Even if that someone was me.”

You looked at him, surprised.

He elaborated: “If I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me.”

More warmth flooded your chest. “I will.” You promised.

He squeezed your hand, raising it. “Is this fine?”

“More than fine,” you admitted, face warm. “Really, Nanami-sen—err, Nanami-san.”

A humorous smile softened his features. “You know what? I don’t think I mind that honorific too much. Not from you.”

And it made your heart skip a beat. “Why not from me?”

“Easy,” he said, and turned to regard you with a rare affable expression. “Because you’re my favourite.”

#Jjk #Jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #fanfiction #one-shot #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #My writings

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tartagilicious · 3 years

Text

little light > gojou satoru

→ synopsis | a man who can see far too much is in love with a woman who can see nothing at all. (blind!reader)

→ genre | angst + fluff

→ word count | 1.5k

→ warnings | descriptions of blood, ptsd

→ note | I binged this show in two days and the only things I retained are that curses are bad and gojou is hot. this is my first time writing for him so I hope he’s in character enough !

“look at me."

his voice is gentle, patient with the distress that paints your features. blood runs over your skin like sweat, leaving a gruesome sheen as you grasp unsteadily for him. gojou gives you his hands without a second thought. the sight of you so frightened leaves him breathless.

“look at me. please.” he repeats, urging you on as your lip quivers. your entire body shakes as you say,

“i can’t."

your sudden sob startles him, hands gripping yours tightly. the words confuse him. he means to ask you, but the moment you raise your head, any question he might have had dies in his throat. for the first time, gojou satoru is left completely speechless.

dark blood pools unforgivingly into bright irises, physical evidence of your bad run-in with the special grade curse he’d just dealt with on your behalf. but as he stares at the way the red covers the expanse of your eyes, he feels hopeless. something in him breaks as your fingers tighten around his.

you wail softly as your nails leave angry half moons in his skin. he doesn’t mind the pain.

“...i can’t see you."

almost a year after the battle that had cost you your sight, your eyes had settled into a cooler gray tone, the vessel that had originally bursted settling low — useless for all but a story.

you tell your tale as one of advice, a lesson to someone who could perhaps benefit from your mistakes. a preliminary caution to anyone that might ask why you wear two eye patches. but gojou doesn’t miss the way your shoulders square, nor the way you take a few seconds too long to catch your breath every time you inevitably share it.

as someone who had stayed close to you during your recovery, gojou believed he could tell it just as well on his own by now. though the story still never ceased to make him sick; to bring up the image of your shaking form and blood-soaked face; to remind him of how it felt to lose a part of someone, a feeling he’d tried so hard to forget.

but there were things neither of you could truly forget, impacting your lives in ways that were simply unavoidable: not only as a human, but also as a jujutsu sorcerer. while handy with your usual method of choice, there was an undeniable disadvantage you had when faced with the threat of a curse.

instead of throwing yourself into the fray as you once had preferred, you were now forced to succumb to a disability that impacted the very things that grounded your soul.

but it’s with gojou’s guidance that you’re still able to hold a weapon at all.

it’s his voice that finds you when you begin to panic, to let the frustration of blind get to you.

“you fight with that thing on willingly when I don’t have a choice?"

“that’s not fair! you know the blindfold is just a cosmetic choice, don’t you?"

you can hear the way his lips purse in the playful tone of his voice. his footsteps pad lightly on top of the dirt of the training ground as he takes a step back, giving you a chance to loosen the grip on the weapon in your hand.

you resist a groan. of course you know it isn’t, but you choose not to say anything.

“I’m waiting for the day someone comes and knocks you off your pedestal, satoru. unless you enjoy the feeling of fighting blind?"

he hums. “thrilling, isn’t it?"

you let out a laugh of disbelief. “masochist."

it’s his rough fingers that intertwine with yours that keep you grounded in moments you feel like letting everything go.

too many nights do you find yourself sitting awake in a cold sweat, the residual shapes and colours from your dream fading as a vast nothingness takes its place. the frustration is heartbreakingly fresh as you silently beg for another moment of clarity, only to receive no response.

a sob bubbles up in your chest as you try hard to suppress it. the world feels as if it’s suddenly crumbing around you before you feel a limp hand reach over to catch yours.

gojou doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s awoken and looking at you.

carefully, you let your opposite hand find his shoulder as you twist to lay into him. he takes you without qualms, holding you close with one hand on your back while the other doesn’t leave yours.

after a few minutes of quiet cries, a finger trails up and down your back in a soothing nature.

“nightmare?” he asks.

you shake your head, letting out a strained breath.

“..I dreamt that I could see again."

gojou is silent at this. his hand squeezes yours tightly.

“I don’t—“ you cut yourself off, pursing your lips as to fend off another onslaught of tears. “I-I keep… I keep forgetting what your eyes look like—"

a sob tears from your throat as you curl around him. in that moment, gojou is almost glad that you can’t see the forlorn expression he wears.

but above all, it’s his unwavering support and will to stay by your side. had he not been there in that moment, there’s a part of you that doubts you would have found the will to make it out at all.

“i think i want to wear a blindfold.” you speak quickly, as if embarrassed, but the words pique your boyfriend’s interest immediately. gojou covers his cerulean eyes for his own reasons, but the idea of extending his odd custom to you is exciting.

hearing him sit up straighter next to you, you shift away, face heating just imagining the expression on his face. it’s exactly as you think — the grin stretching his lips is so wide it transcends the boundaries of nature.

“ah,” gojou hums, the child-like laugh that escapes him as he rises infectious. gojou carefully lends you his hand. the simultaneous absence and ever-flowing presence of infinity from beneath them mind numbing.

“you’re a good student, you know;” he gushes as he normally does, but the small hint of sweetness that lines his voice is like a quirk reserved for only you. “to follow in your teacher’s footsteps."

“think what you want, but do you know how hard it is to put on two eyepatches while blind?"

you say this, but can’t resist a laugh as he pulls you forward into him. gojou lands a chaste kiss on your forehead as he sets a comfortable pace you rely on him to keep. you trust him more than anyone to do so, just as you always have.

“well then,” he lets go of your hand when you reach your destination, recognisable as his office by the warm smell of wood and spring breeze through a cracked window. “allow me to be the one to make it easier."

gojou takes your wrist and puts what you assume is a blindfold in your hand. you poke around at it clumsily for a moment, trying to find the opening in the pool of fabric. when you can’t, he doesn’t become impatient. instead, he teases you and takes your hand in his, guiding you to the right places.

from there, you’re able to discard the eyepatches you wear, baring your eyes to the daylight. your innate senses don’t seem to pick up the way gojou stares at you, gaze swimming between glancing from your smile to your eyes. he’s prideful in the notion you’re able to smile in such a way again.

as you slip the fabric over your eyes, it bunches around your ears and fits awkwardly at the neck. but your smile is dazzling nonetheless, as if you couldn’t be happier.

“this will help, I think.” you say, still busy adjusting the fabric as you think aloud. “with my sight completely restricted like this, my other senses should be able to grow even stronger."

perhaps you’d never noticed, but goujou is already well aware of the way you’d adapted in the recent months. whether in the way you immediately resort to touch to identify things, or how you’re able to hear virtually anything — it sets a small buzz of hope aflame in his chest to have been able to witness such changes.

“stronger senses, huh?” gojou’s tone is suggestive as he pulls you in by your waist, head tilting down into yours. “does that mean what I think it does?"

when you laugh and string your arms around his shoulders, he smiles along.

“pervert."

anyone only listening to the conversation might assume you’re losing patience with the man in front of you, but the grin on your face is unmistakable. what your eyes can longer show seeps through in the gentle way you pull him down for a hug, and is returned in the arms that hold you tight.

#you know what yeah fuck it I am implying that gojou keeps a drawer full of disposable blindfolds in his office what are you gonna do about i #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojou x y/n #gojou x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #gojo x gender neutral reader #kind of unedited

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landinoandco · 3 years

Text

|Shutter Speed|

Chapter three : A hunger for comfort and affection

{Lando Norris x reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: a hint to mature themes but only of you squint

Word count: 2.5 k

A/n: Here is chapter three of Shutter Speed, like last chapter if you would like to be added in the taglist drop me a message or comment :) enjoy

Previous chapters: Chapter one, Chapter two

“Oh Maisie.” Georgie cried, “It was the most embarrassed I think I’ve been in my entire life.” She took a long sip of her wine as she slouched into the sofa, the tv playing the medal ceremony of the England vs Italy game - Italy taking the victory.

Maisie wrapped her arm around Georgie’s shoulders, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” She said softly.

“Not that bad.” Georgie screeched, her wine splashing slightly over Maisie’s legs. Hastily, Georgie tried to wipe it off, Maisie chuckled and pushed her hands away. “What I mean to say is, I’m sure Lando didn’t think anything of it.” Maisie corrected herself, shaking her head at Georgie’s apologetic glance.

“Maisie, I stood there like a fish.” She imitated a fish opening and closing its mouth.

“Take me through what happened again-”

“I’m Lando Norris. I drive for McLaren. As it turns out, you and I are about to attend the same meeting.”

Georgie stopped in her tracks, “You mean to say, we are now colleagues.”

Lando’s face dulled and he furrowed his eyebrows. “I suppose we are. Yes.” The pair stood awkwardly, Lando’s hand placed behind his neck looking up at the sky whilst Georgie had found something very interesting on the floor.

“Well I suppose I should-” Lando started as Georgie braved to look up.

“Yes, yeah, wouldn’t want to be late” She forced a chuckle, going to walk forward when they remembered - they were heading in the same direction.

Maisie cringed as her best friend recounted the story. “So what happened after that?”

“That’s when I bumped into you…”

Lando had given up trying to make small talk about 5 minutes ago - whatever he thought was there was now gone; for some reason he just couldn’t break the awkward air that seemed to be stuck to them. He looked over to her, face furiously red and her expression hardened. He swung his arms by his side and kissed his teeth - she made no reaction. Georgie was trapped in a battle of her own thoughts, she was sure there was a connection between the two of them; something she had wanted to act on but now… She looked behind her, in hopes of finding it strewn on the ground.

“There you are, Georgie.” A voice called out, immediately the girl’s face snapped up and she seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Hurt flashed Lando’s face but she didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her words trailed off as she motioned towards Lando.

“Maisie, meet Lando - he drives for McLaren.” Georgie introduced Lando, stepping closer to him. Lando raised his hand up in acknowledgement, smiling warmly at Maisie. “Lando, meet Maisie - she’s my business partner.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Maisie said, opening up her arms to go to hug him. Lando accepted, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Maisie. Once she had returned to where she was standing before, she said: “Suppose it won’t be the last time we see you either.” She winked at Georgie.

Maisie clicked her fingers, “Oh yes, I remember now. So that’s why it felt so awkward walking up to you.” Maisie set her wine down and moved to face Georgie, a pained expression still painted onto her face. “Did you at least get his number?”

“As a matter of fact-”

Max Fewtrell looked at his watch for the fifth time in the space of 30 seconds. They were going to be late for the football match. He shook his head, scoffing at the irony of Lando priding himself in his punctuality. It wasn’t until he looked up that he realised Lando was only a few feet away from him, ambling slowly and staring at something in his hands. “Lando, mate. We’re going to be late” Max called out, however this wasn’t enough to break Lando out of his trance.

Storming up to him, it was only when Max was about to poke him that Max stopped and stared as well. In Lando’s hand appeared to be a business card.

“Why have you got a-” Max squinted at the cursive name at the top. “The little moments- what-” Confused was one word to describe how Max was feeling, so much so he almost forgot why he was so urgent for them to leave.

“I - uh - I met a girl.” Lando stammered, still staring at the card, his forehead furrowed.

“And that’s why you have a business card? Lando, football!” Max prompted, rolling his eyes and made to move forward when Lando added: “I think this was her trying to give me her number.”

Max turned back to face Lando, his face lit up, “What?” He chortled. Whatever trance Lando was in, he seemed to snap out of it and pocketed the card.

“You’re right, let’s get going.” Lando walked past Max, who was standing staring after Lando, completely dumbfounded.

“But - what!” Max followed hurriedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was she pretty?”

“Very.” Lando said.

“You gave him your business card?” Maisie doubled over in laughter, Georgie stared at her unamused.

“Well, if it wasn’t for you I would have given it to him like a normal person but you insisted on dragging me out of the Marquee.” Georgie quipped sharply.

“In my defence, we were going to be late for the-”

The pair looked at Georgie’s phone as it lit up and began to shriek the theme tune of ‘Downton Abbey.’ After Maisie’s incredulous look, Georgie went to pick it up, muttering under her breath: “I can’t work out how to change it back - don’t give me that look.”

The number wasn’t one she recognised, she picked up anyway, scrunching up her face. “Hello.”

“Hi.” A breathless voice replied, Georgie recognised the voice but she couldn’t quite place who. She must have stayed silent for longer than she intended because the caller added, “It’s Lando. Lando Norris.”

“Lando? Hey.” She stood up, her voice instantly softening. “How are you?” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I called-” Lando stuttered apologetically, Georgie felt her heart sink. She repeated herself, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Are you alright?”

“I - no. I just - I needed to - There was an incident and I’m on my own but-” Georgie cut him off, “Lando, where are you.” Her tone was now serious, Maise mouthed ‘what’s wrong.’ She replied by holding up her finger as if to indicate ‘one minute.’

“I’m at my house.” He replied simply, he sounded tired and in shock.

“Do you want me to come over?” Georgie asked, her heart in her throat - it was only a moment ago he apologised for calling her. Maisie stood up, throwing her hands in the air, mouthing: “what are you doing?” There was another beat of silence, she could hear his breathing, he was trying to steady it.

“Yes. Please. I’ll text you the address.” He swallowed thickly, just like Georgie, he wasn’t sure what made him call her or - even more - say yes to her coming over. It was like there was someone speaking for him, controlling all of his actions concerning her. He didn’t understand it. Lando had only learnt her name that afternoon but it felt like he had known her for months - their little coffee shop sighting felt like years ago.

After he hung up, he ran his hands through his hair. His heart was still beating as though he was about to race. He had already called Charlotte and explained everything that had just gone down after the match, he had told her that he wasn’t alone and that he had good company. Technically he wasn’t lying because good company was about to arrive. Lando wasn’t sure how long he sat in that position for, the silence of his house felt deafening until the doorbell broke his thoughts. He opened it to an anxious looking Georgie, holding the unopened bottle that her and Maisie were about to start on. “I brought us a bottle.” Lando cracked a smile, opening the door wider so she could come through.

“I’m not normally allowed but I think Jon will let me off.” He muttered, closing the door behind her. Before he could say another word, she had wrapped her arms around his neck - “You looked like you needed a hug.” He could just about make out. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into him. In that moment of vulnerability he told her what had happened at Wembley and she responded by placing her hands on either side of his face: “You’re definitely in need of that drink then.”

It was some time later and they were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa in his living room, bottles of different sorts of wine sat empty on the glass table and Georgie was having to hold onto his shoulder to stop herself from falling over. Lando had just recounted a rather funny story - in hindsight it was probably only funny because of the amount of alcohol that they had consumed. Georgie had gotten drunk before, she was the type of drunk that never stopped talking but with Lando, all she wanted was to be close to him; as demonstrated by her holding onto his shoulder as soon as he said anything remotely funny, leaning across his body to reach for the wine. What she wasn’t aware of was the effect this was then having on Lando. He was completely in awe of Georgie, her ability to come in and sweep him off of his feet - he felt as though he could completely relax in her presence, as though nothing else mattered when she was there. He craved the warmth she was offering him, she wasn’t like all of the other girls Jon scolded him for meeting. Georgie was just as nervous and naive as he was - they both loved and craved the idea of comfort and affection from another human that wasn’t platonic but neither of them had any clue how. Perhaps it was more the fact that neither of them had met anyone yet that silently understood the troubles and tribulations that had led them to his point.

They were at peace with their thoughts, the alcohol fogging any sort of rationality. Lando looked over at Georgie, a content and easy smile sat effortlessly on her lips and a tinge of pink flushed on her cheeks. He shuffled closer to her so their shoulders were pressed against each other, “I’m glad I called you.” It was almost like the words shocked him as they came out of his mouth, as though he was airing his thoughts for the first time. The smile on her face only grew, Georgie moved her face closer to his so she could see every freckle and dimple and blemish. It was the first time she realised how beautiful he was - from the way his curls fell lopsided onto his forehead to his constant licking of his lips in an attempt not to shy away. She brought her thumb to his face, brushing it delicately.

“Eyelash.” She explained, his gaze transfixed on hers, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and blew the eyelash away. “Did you make a wish?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I did.” Lando answered, his hand still wrapped around her wrist, his touch burning Georgie’s skin. He inched his face closer to hers, his breath fanning across her face. She braved a look at his lips, tearing away from the battle they had once again found themselves in. “What did you wish for?” She asked, her lips brushing his.

“If I told you - ” He began, releasing her wrist from his touch and instead tucking a loose strand of her back behind her ear. “It wouldn’t come true.”

Their lips still hadn’t touched, millimeters separated them, their noses brushing as though they were the first to give in. It was like they were daring each other to make the first move, who was going to be the first one to break. Every nerve in Georgie’s body was telling her to close the distance - it felt right. It would certainly make up for that afternoon’s display. She knew that he had no obligations to kiss her and she knew that the hand now resting on her cheek was inviting her - almost taunting her.

“Lando-” She pulled her head away, his hand falling limply to his side. Georgie squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself instantly.

“I know.” He whispered, looking down at the floor.

There were many reasons why Georgie pulled away. The main fear that both of them had mutually agreed on was that if she had closed the distance and if she had kissed him - all self control on either side was gone and there was no stopping the inevitability of all mature relationships. It was something that - whilst both were desperate for - now wasn’t the time and it would lead to a series of unfortunate events neither of them wanted.

“It’s getting late.” Lando grumbled, getting up from the floor. He wasn’t mad at Georgie because he knew it was the right thing - he felt it himself but he was also aware of the large part of him that wanted to indulge, to forget about any consequences and enjoy the raw connection that they had found.

“Yes, you’re right.” Georgie felt a pang of guilt in her chest, as he refused to meet her eye. She stood there frozen, unsure where to go or what to do. “I’ll go call an uber.” She muttered, excusing herself.

“Wait-” Lando called out to her, “Stay.”

Georgie looked at him, confusion etched on her face. Lando took a step towards her, his jaw tightened. He knew come morning he was probably going to regret what he was about to do, it was like he was teasing himself - setting himself up for another heartbreak. But this time it had to be different. It had to be.

“Please, I don’t think I want to be alone.” It was raw emotion talking and a new side to Lando that Georgie didn’t think she would ever see. She knew come morning she was going to regret what she was about to say, it was like she was leading herself down a hole that in the end she wasn’t going to be able to get out of.

“Ok.” She gave a half smile and reached for Lando’s hand.

That night they stayed in each other's arms. Relishing in the comfort they gave to one another, both wishing that tomorrow would never come.

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