#marvel x ps reader

[plus-size-reader]

Spidey Sense

Fics of Fall 2022

Peter Parker x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2355 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Carving a Jack-o'-lantern with Peter for the first time, which doesn’t exactly go as planned.

—————————————————————————————————

Peter felt it before he heard you.

Pain. 

It was dull and faded as quickly as it came but it was there, a slight tingle under his skin, which could only really mean one thing.

It was you. 

His spidey sense only really got like this when you needed help. It felt different, more intense somehow.

So, before he’d even had a chance to realize what was going on or to put any thought at all into what it could have been, Peter shot up, turning to find that the space normally occupied by you in his bed was empty.

Which, coupled with the panic pricking at the corners of all of his senses, was more than enough to worry him.

Under any normal circumstances, it might not have been that big of a deal. There were plenty of innocent explanations for something like that, but the two of you didn’t exactly live under normal circumstances. 

You lived in a world where nothing was certain, and nothing was safe.

So, as soon as he heard that crashing and clamoring coming from the kitchen once again, he was off. It didn’t matter what was going on or where you were, he wasn’t going to rest until he figured it out.

He couldn’t help it.

Peter was already a bit touchy where you were concerned, but this morning, his mind was racing, cooking up several haunting scenarios that all ended in you being maimed and murdered.

His steps were careful and quiet as he rounded the corner from his bedroom until he found you in the kitchen, his focus set on the sound of your heartbeat as he tried to plan his next move. 

Your breath was even, all things considered, but your pulse was quicker than he would have liked. 

It wasn’t until he heard a muffled curse from you that he dropped his guard and emerged from his hiding place, finally blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Y/N?” he called, pretty confident now that you were alone. If someone else were here, he would have been able to hear them or sense them in some capacity by this point. 

Because sometimes superpowers were awesome.

Not that your being alone in any way explained what you were doing this early in the morning, or why you were bleeding. 

The answer to which wasn’t anywhere near what he was expecting, on either count. 

You sighed at the sound of his voice, disappointed in yourself for waking him up. You had been trying to get this done before the sun came up, as a surprise, but obviously, it wasn’t going to work now.

Stupid pumpkin. 

“I’m here” 

Peter could hear how defeated you sounded from where he was, but it wasn’t until he switched on the overhead light that he understood why. 

You were sitting there, in the center of the kitchen floor, with a pumpkin resting between your thighs.

For some reason.

He didn’t even bother to keep the laughter that bubbled up in his throat at bay because it was so ridiculous. 

You had to be kidding.

“What are you doing?” he muttered, taking in the sight in front of him with a mild, albeit sleepy, gleam in his eyes.

He had just woken up, after all. 

“I wanted to carve this stupid pumpkin for you, but it’s not as easy as I thought it would be,” you explained, gesturing to the large orange pumpkin which was laying in a lake of its own guts and seeds. 

It always seemed so easy, but now that you were attempting the seasonal craft for yourself, you realized you couldn’t have been more wrong.

This was impossible. 

“And, what happened there?” Peter wondered, recalling the initial reason for his waking when he noticed a thin line of crimson red blood, actively dripping down from your palm onto your wrist. 

It instantly set those same alarms off in his head as the man you loved crossed the room to inspect the wound, more for himself than anything.

He had to make sure you were okay before even acknowledging the rest of it.

“I slipped and cut myself” you shrugged, letting him paw at you as he saw fit until he was content that you would be okay. 

The cut didn’t look too deep, or dangerous in any way, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.

He was sure it hurt.

There was silence between you for a moment as Peter busied himself cleaning up the cut as best he could with the corner of his tee shirt, which would surely be ruined after this point.

Not that he even seemed to mind. 

“How did you manage to cut your hand carving a pumpkin?” he wondered, what felt like forever, that familiar embarrassment returning to you all at once. 

This was what you got for dating an Avenger.

“I slipped,” you repeated, turning the gourd in your lap until he could see the face you’d begun to carve into it.

So far, you had managed to get one triangular eye mapped out, along with a small square nose, which was initially supposed to be another triangular.

You’d had to improve after narrowly cutting the tip of your pointer finger off. 

“This whole thing’s a bit more technical than I thought”

Peter laughed at that, this time letting himself get caught up in just how much he loved you. Of all the things that could have woken him up today, this was probably one of the most endearing. 

…and random. 

“Don’t laugh. I just wanted to be festive” you pouted, finally setting the knife down in defeat. Whatever it was you created this morning, it certainly didn’t look like any jack-o-lantern you’d ever seen. 

Still, Peter didn’t make fun of you. 

The end result of your effort was hilarious, but the care you’d put into it was real and it was obvious this mattered to you, so he wanted to help.

“I’m not laughing at you” Spiderman assured, that same gentle grin permanently affixed to his face that completely contradicted his point. 

He couldn’t help it.

You were just so cute. 

“Forget it. We don’t need a pumpkin anyway” you sighed again, a real frustration taking over now. You had really put everything you had into this, and having it go south so quickly had really put a damper on your mood. 

Thankfully, Peter wasn’t quite as easily discouraged as you were when it came to these things, mostly because he didn’t get to be. 

He had to be Spiderman, and that had changed quite a bit about him in everyday life too.

This wasn’t life or death for him like some of the things in his life were, and he didn’t have to put pressure on himself for it to be perfect. 

“I’ll tell you what…why don’t we get some breakfast, and get that cleaned up?” he suggested, vaguely gesturing to your hand until you gave it over so he could press a kiss to your knuckles. 

Then, before you could argue further, he hummed, filling the silence just enough to let you know he wasn’t finished. 

He knew you well enough to know that you weren’t just going to accept that.

“After that, we can figure this out together”

~

After breakfast had been eaten and Peter had actually gotten a chance to wake up, you two finally sat down with pumpkins in mind. 

You were going to do this. 

Even if it took all day. 

“So, have you ever done this?” you questioned, sitting down with your partially mutilated pumpkin and a clean kitchen knife, along with a purple patterned bandage, courtesy of the man you loved.

The last thing he wanted was for you to cut yourself again, especially not for a seasonal craft. 

Peter grinned, thinking about all the Halloweens he’d celebrated thus far, and all the happy memories he had. 

Memories that had never included carving a jack-o-lantern like this one, “Like this? No, but how hard can it be?” 

“I don’t know, but usually when you ask that something bad happens” you shrugged, doing some recalling of your own, back to all the times you were talking about.

Your boyfriend laughed, rolling his eyes as he thought it over. You had a point this time, but this time, it wasn’t that serious. All the damage that could have been done already had been. 

“I’m pretty sure we can handle this, babe” Peter assured, confident that no matter what, this wasn’t a monumental task and even if it was, you could figure it out together. 

How hard could it be? 

“So, what do you want to do first?” 

There was silence from him for a split second as your partner twirled the pen in his hand around a few times, considering what he wanted to do with what you’d given him. 

It was still a pretty blank canvas, and if anything, you’d given him more room to make something that was just a touch creepy. 

It was going to be so cool.

“I think you take this marker and draw a face on him, so we don’t just stab without any direction” he allowed, unscrewing the cap and handing it over to you so that you could outline a comical doodle on the face of the pumpkin. 

Peter had only watched Aunt May do this once or twice as a kid, but it seemed simple enough, especially considering all the things you two had done together thus far.

It should be simple, and it was. 

All you had to do was do it together. 

“What do you think? Like this?” you hummed, both you and Peter cocking your heads to the side just to survey your work from another angle. 

It was pretty good. 

Really good. 

“That’s perfect, just like you” came your boyfriend’s confident reply, a gentle peck falling on the side of your face. 

He loved you so damn much.

“Then, I think we just carve the inside of the shapes out” he continued, watching as you plucked the knife off the floor and set off on a mission to do just that, only for Peter to intercept you at the last second. 

“I think I’ll do this part if you don’t mind” 

It briefly crossed your mind to argue with this whole thing being a surprise and all, but after giving it another second thought, you realized what he must have been thinking and nodded.

There were only so many things one person could handle this early in the morning. 

Besides, if he cut himself doing this like this, it would heal far quicker than it would for you. 

You grinned, that same smile on your face that you hadn’t been able to push down since you came up with this idea in the first place. 

It was just so seasonal and fun. 

Peter was quiet as he focused, his attention mostly poised on the task at hand as he removed chunks and slivers of rind until finally, it was done. 

Once he’d decided it was exactly what he wanted, the man in question showed off his craftsmanship with a wide grin to match your own. 

It would be a lie to say that he didn’t get why people did this. 

It was fun. 

In fact, Peter was sure that this was, by far, the best idea you had ever had.

You hummed in approval, you should have known his steady hands would lend themselves well to a task like this. “Just like that, I believe we carved our very own pumpkin” 

“Now, all that’s left to do is find some candles and set it outside” Peter decided, immediately getting up to find where the two of you had left the candles last.

All of this was for nothing if you couldn’t put it out on display for the neighborhood.

So, that’s exactly what you did. 

Ignoring the cold chill of the biting fall air, you and Peter huddled around your pumpkin on the porch, watching as the candle he’d lit within it danced under the influence of the wind.

It was perfect.

The edges were a little crooked and one of the eyes was a little smaller than the other but considering how it came to be like that, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

“What do you think?” he hummed, reaching out to take your hand in his own as he admired the work you’d done together. 

It was pretty cute. 

You giggled, swinging your hands between you, “I think that I have the greatest boyfriend there’s ever been” 

“So, I’m curious, why didn’t you just get me up before you started opening it up?” Peter wondered, wrapping you up in his arms mindlessly from where he stood, and pulling you into his body.

It was so goofy. 

You knew that now, seeing how it went, but you also knew that he wasn’t going to make fun of you for this. 

In all the years that you’d known him, Peter had never made fun of you for anything. 

“I thought it would be a cute surprise” 

At your admission, Peter just shrugged again, recalling all the slamming and banging that had met him as soon as he opened his eyes “I don’t know. You weren’t exactly quiet” 

He had a point there. 

Not that you’d ever admit that to him now. 

“In my defense, I really didn’t think you’d wake up” you laughed, well aware of the exact reason you’d made the decision you had.

Peter had always been notoriously hard to wake up. 

For as long as you’d known him. 

Even given what you’d all taken to calling his spidey sense, he slept like a rock and it was hard to rouse him from that. Though, clearly, relying on that this morning had been a mistake. 

“Well, next time, why don’t we just sleep in and learn new things together” he grinned, wiping away a bit of pumpkin that had somehow ended up on your chin at some point during the whole exchange. 

“Sounds like a plan” 

#fics of fall 2022 #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x plus size reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x ps reader #peter #peter x reader #peter x ps reader #peter x plus size reader #peter imagine #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x ps reader #spiderman x plus size reader #spiderman imagine #marvel x reader #marvel #marvel x ps reader #marvel x plus size reader #marvel imagine #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x ps reader #avengers x plus size reader #avengers imagine

[becca-e-barnes]

The Bad Day at Work

I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃

Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography

Minors, do not interact

You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.

You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.

"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.

You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.

"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.

"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."

He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.

Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.

"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.

"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."

Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?

It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.

I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.

Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.

"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.

"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."

You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.

"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.

That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.

You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.

Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.

"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.

"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.

You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.

Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.

You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.

"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.

The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.

It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.

"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.

"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."

The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.

"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?

You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.

"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.

He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.

"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."

#bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #dbf!bucky #dad's best friend Bucky #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #ps!bucky #ps!dbf!bucky #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #becca writes spice #this was somewhat fuelled by 'If you're too shy let me know' #I promise I'm not this arrogant #but there's just something about being told how good you feel #I'm not getting into it #you probably get it #anyway #writing at the minute really feels like when you go for a drive and you have your music on shuffle #and you end up skipping every song #because you don't know what you want to listen to and nothing is hitting the spot #I'm looking to write something very specific to scratch a brain itch but I don't know what that is rn #it'll come to me #and in the meantime #I'll keep looking through the notes app on my phone at all my unwritten ideas

[mysteriesmuse]

~~Delightfully inspired by being at home~~

Bakugou Katsuki is an only child. No siblings - because one gremlin spawn is enough to take care of. All of Katsuki’s cousins are older than him. Katsuki IS the baby of the family. . . Which is why when he meet you, and then proceeded to meet your family, he was in a total culture shock. You’re one of the oldest kids in your family. When the two of you arrived to your families summertime reunion he was absolutely flabbergasted. Once you stepped into the house you were gone in a flash!

I mean he expected as much since you lived so far away now and had such a good working relationship with your family. But he didn’t expect for you to DISAPPEAR ON HIM.

To be swallowed by a hoarde of similiar-faced relatives all shouting about how you’ve been!! the L/N genes were strong apparently . . . you really all do look alike, huh.

Bakugou had barely stepped into the house, your luggage’s still in hand, before becoming an obstacle for children. One of your little cousins actually barrelling into his muscular thigh with a little “oof” and “sorry mister! hey! wait for me!”

Before bounding out the wide open front door to chase their playmates back around to the backyard, and then through the entire house again . . . as children are often prone to do. Now, Bakugou tried to find you amoungst the little gaggle of children and sometimes teenagers that blew around his ankles, as they giggled and shouted and whooped as they weaved their way around him. at least let him find you, or one of your parents or siblings, so they can tell him which room you’d be staying in. he’d meet them on several occasions before and secretly reveled in watching watching you and your siblings engage throughout the few visits and events he’s been invited on. All these other people and rambunctious kids he wasn’t all too sure about . . . ——————

now Y/N was having the time of her life relaxing and catching up with her family

Her boyfriend, Katsuki, was not finding this relaxing. Bakugou Katsuki felt totally out of his element: a fish out of water. Or rather, an explosive man in water. ———— his ruby eyes would snap open most mornings, at some inhumane hour from some early bird kids stomping around and giggling in hushed tones (not so hushed in his opinion) as they moved down the hallway and past your door. And Bakugou would squint his eyes into the blackness; the void. And stare at where the door was supposed to be until they passed and burrowed his face back against your perfectly sloped shoulder and slept until some kid was send by the older folks to slam open the door and wake you up. Bakugou absolutely couldn’t fathom this part of the routine. He absolutely hated it.

You however only ever seemed a touch miffled. And always informed the tiny correspondent with a playful pat on the head that you and him were now awake and would join the rest of them downstairs. . . . but eventually the little cousins would soon come running around the side of the bed to make sure he was awake too. . . and Bakugou couldn’t help but turn, pick the kid up, and playfully wrestle the flailing and giggling kid on the bed into submission, and they revealed the menu for breakfast. And they would giggle and dart out of the room so fast saying, “Y/N’s awake! And her boyfriends Bakugou’s awake! He wants extra eggs!” And it definitely wasn’t his idea of relaxing playing UNO with about 10 players every other evening. And constantly hearing you and the older kids and adults all explaining what color card the youngest one needs to put down. Or GO-FISH for that matter!

Since apparently that silly game of chance seems to be the only one every age group can play without explaining the rules. What’s the point of a game of guessing who’s got what card? Especially when he never even gets close to winning. (Yes, he was terrible at it.)

Your family even plays for second to last place, and lo and behold he’s somehow duking it out with a 9 yr old now. And Katsuki Bakugou definitely doesn’t enjoy participating in the family water balloon fights, or watching and dodging the stray streams from squirt guns fights as he stands at the grill with all the other men, or chasing down the muddy dog in the house, or the epic made-believe quests. And you definitely believe him when you pass him walking through the house on morning after finishing the dishes in company with a fairy princess, pirate, and a mermaid “but-she’s-got-legs-right-now-cause-she’s-on-land.” as he walks about wearing an eye-patch on his face and a tutu around his arm

And he’s no longer “not in his element” by the end of the trip when he takes his turn to make breakfast for the whole family. Going upstairs himself to wake up the little ones and the grumbling teens. Making sure to let you sleep in and it’s a pleasant surprise when you make your way downstairs a little later to see him manning the kitchen. everybody sat down or standing around as they chow down. And you get greeted with a swift kiss to your temple and grumbled “g’morning.” your mom chirping up, “Katsuki’s made your favorite sweetpea!” ——— And you’re pleasantly surprised once again as Bakugou joins you in on the last day of your visit. Finally stepping foot into the mattress/sleeping bag kingdom that’s set up in your house. He comes in to find you sitting at the front of the room waving your hands across the air as you engage in the last saga of this thrilling interactive bedtime story you’ve been narrating the whole trip. And Bakugou walks in and tosses all the fallen blankets back over peoples beds. Shuffling himself underneath a blanket he’s just rescued and making himself comfortable as he squeezes in next to the teens. And it’s at some part in your story that he furrows his brow and opens his mouth muttering something to the two adolescents squished beside him. His arms crossed across his chest as a dinosaur stuffed animal rests, precariously balanced, on his broad shoulders because, “you need a stuffie for Y/Ns storytime” and the three of them wave their hands and signal for you to pause and Bakugou grumbles out “- hold on babe, who is this dragon prince character anyway?” And all the kids erupt in laughter shouting, “YOU, YOU SILLY BOYFRIEND.” and his mouth is agape. And you simply shrug, “well duh ‘tsuki. who else? Now where we’re we? Right so then the Dragon Prince, the Swordsman, and the Dashing Runaway Prince of the Kingdom decided that they . . .”

#bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo imagine #this actually turned out way better than I thought #I’m shocked lol like it just fits him so well #anyone else relate? #He’s definitely won the approval of everyone I’d say 😂 #The Fantasy AU is actually just Y/Ns marvelous make-believe stories in my head!! #Oh! PS - yes the tutu is stuck around his forearm bc his bicep is too beefy!

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Meet Cycl-moth-ps, leader of the young X-Moths! He has little eyes that can shoot beams of light, helping him and his team fight against the Brotherhood of Evil Moth-ants! (His eye beams are like little flashlights! But they're red, and they pack a light-tle punch!) He is from X-Moth Evolution, and from Moth-rvel!

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #platonic yandere marvel x reader #Marvel Moths! #Marvelous Moths! #marvel #xmen evolution #art #arts and crafts #Moth-rvel! #Cycl-moth-ps!

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (09) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 18.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up. 

It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.

This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights. 

His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace. 

While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp. 

That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.

You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.

So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”

“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”

“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.

“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.

“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”

“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”

“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”

“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”

“I’ll wash up then.”

You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.

“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”

“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”

Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.

He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you. 

You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.

He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.

“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”

“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.” 

“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.

“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”

You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture. 

Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too. 

There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having. 

“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget. 

“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”

You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest. 

He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.

You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.

You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel. 

Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon. 

Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor. 

You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have. 

It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.

“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”

“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”

“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”

He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”

“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”

“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”

He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out. 

You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table. 

For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday. 

Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.

Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic. 

Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.

But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.

“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting. 

“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”

“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.

The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.

You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had. 

It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos. 

You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile. 

The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then. 

Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.

“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”

“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.” 

It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.

“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”

“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”

His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.

“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”

“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”

Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental. 

But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more? 

The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.

You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows. 

“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.

“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”

“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”

“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”

“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs. 

“You should savor that, too.”

“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it’ll happen again.”

“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”

“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”

“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.

“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He asks.

“If they have a reason to,” you shrug. 

Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty. 

He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.

Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be. 

In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.  

But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible. 

He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.

You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living. 

You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed. 

It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it. 

But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops. 

And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.

The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you. 

You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so. 

There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel. 

You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine. 

“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you. 

“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.” 

“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.

“I will. Get home safely, you two.”

You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road. 

There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying. 

After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.

The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.

It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.

“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour. 

“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”

“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”

“Are you driving?”

“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice. 

You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells. 

“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”

“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”

“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!” 

“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”

“You don’t know that,” you stammer.

“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”

“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”

Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.

“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.

He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”

You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.

“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”

Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel. 

“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.

Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.

The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.

Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open. 

You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”

You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath. 

“Have you had dinner? He asks.

“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”

“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”

“Okay,” you look at him and smile. 

Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too. 

“Is that better?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”

His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.

You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.

“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.

“Just a little,” he teases.

He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage. 

She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance. 

You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.

He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.

“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.

“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”

“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”

“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes. 

“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”

“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”

“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”

“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”

His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide. 

You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm. 

You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.

Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you. 

In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around. 

On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.

But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.

So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.

You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt. 

His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.

You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.

As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”

“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do. 

The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it. 

You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.

“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”

“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”

“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”

He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced. 

“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself. 

But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you. 

He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.

The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.

“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.

“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”

“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own. 

It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.

“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”

“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”

“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters. 

You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.

“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”

“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”

You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.

You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet. 

You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.

“Hello?”

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”

“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”

“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”

“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”

“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”

“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”

“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”

He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.

“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.

“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.

“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”

Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.

He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.

“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.

“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments. 

“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.

“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”

“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”

Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.

The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could. 

You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.

You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago. 

You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief. 

Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it. 

Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.

You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile. 

“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”

He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”

“Not intimidating.”

“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”

“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.

“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.

“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”

“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”

It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish. 

But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this. 

You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.

“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”

He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him. 

He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures. 

The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear. 

“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”

“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”

“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”

“Good, that’s what I hoped.”

Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.

But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.

“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put. 

“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him. 

“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”

“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.” 

He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well. 

“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”

“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”

“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs. 

“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”

Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.

You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.

The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused. 

Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.

“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”

You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit. 

“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”

“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”

“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense. 

Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.

Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.

“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime. 

Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.

“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.

“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.

You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.

“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”

“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”

“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”

“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”

“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”

“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”

“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”

You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.

You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him. 

“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”

“Let me walk you there,” you smile. 

He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.

“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”

“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”

“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”

“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease. 

“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away. 

“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”

Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.

“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”

You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”

“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”

“You did, huh?”

“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”

“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”

“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”

It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.

Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.

Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too. 

“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”

“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”

“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.

Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.

“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.

“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters. 

“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”

“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”

“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.

“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”

Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.

You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels. 

Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning. 

Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.

Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project. 

You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot. 

It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.

You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air. 

“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”

“What? Going on a road trip?”

“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”

“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”

He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago. 

“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”

“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”

“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”

There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.

You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process. 

It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.

Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.

“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice. 

“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information. 

Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.

Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you. 

A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about. 

So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.

“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”

He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.

“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”

His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options. 

“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”

He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be. 

He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.

You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.

You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms. 

“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”

“That’s�� that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same. 

The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.

“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.

He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”

“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”

“It’s happened before,” you shrug.

“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”

You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.

“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”

You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.

You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down. 

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.” 

He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.

You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.

Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.

The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.

Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare. 

Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up. 

“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”

He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering. 

You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear. 

“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.

He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.

“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together. 

You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again. 

“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.

“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.

“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”

He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.

But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.

You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.

Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.

The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over. 

You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.

“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. “You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”

You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.

“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”

Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.

“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with. 

It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries. 

But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.

“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”

“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”

He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.

“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”

You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new. 

You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.

Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.

“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”

Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.

He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.

“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”

“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.

“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you. 

“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”

“That makes one of us,” he sighs. 

“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”

“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”

“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”

“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.

“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you. 

The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.

“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.

“And what would that do?”

“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.

Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.

The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.

He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.

Series Masterlist

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[holdmytesseract]

Hello sweetie!!!

Good to know that you've opened requests because do I have A WONDERFUL request for YOU!

Okay okay, of course for me I'm going to request Loki so here goes...

Loki and Reader are arranged to marry and have never met before (either Reader is a princess or just a lady). The day of the wedding, reader suggests a first touch with her fiance - how could Frigga deny that? So they do it. Then, when they see each other at the altar, it's as if the world stops for them both.

I left it a bit vague so you can expand but I am so excited to see what you make of it! I love you so much and please do DM me if you need something 🫂🥰❤️

~LRM

Marrying a Stranger

Loki Odinson x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: You are arranged to marry Prince Loki of Asgard. Fear and pre-wedding nerves get the better of you and you can't help but ask Frigga for help. Of course is the good-hearted Queen more than willing to help out...

Warnings: arranged marriage? angst, fluff, sweet Loki

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: I actually wanted to post a new chapter of 'Through the Years' today, BUT the birthday of my wonderful friend @lady-rose-moon is definitely more important. 🥰 Therefore, I'd like to post this lil' oneshot as a gift. 😊 Again, happy (belated) birthday, friend!

Ps. I'm also incredibly sorry that his took me so long to write... I hope you like it nevertheless! I love you, too! 💚

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The day had arrived. The day you looked forward to in excitement and anticipation, but also with fear and nervousness. Your wedding. Your arranged wedding, to be precisely.

You were a princess. Only daughter of the king and queen of Vanaheim. And due to the royal blood pumping through your veins, you were not allowed to choose the man you'd marry. The man would be chosen for you. At first, you didn't approve of this and were literally appalled by the mere imagination of marrying a strange man you had never seen before, but your mother and all your tutors had quickly put you in your place.

There was no way out of this - and you had to accept that. It was your fate. Your destiny. The destined path for a princess.

This is not of importance, sweetheart. You don't have to meet your future husband, in order to marry him.

A few centuries ago, when you had reached womanhood, your marriage was arranged and announced within the kingdom. You were bespoken to king Odin's and queen Frigga's youngest son... Prince Loki of Asgard.

Throughout all the years you had never met your betrothed.

That is the man I shall marry?

That was what your mother had answered to your question if you could meet the prince you were going to marry.

So, the topic was off the table. You had been taught to obey your mother, so why would you dare to ever ask her again? The decision was made. No meant no. You only ever heard stories of your future husband... That he was quite special - and not in the good way. Most people spoke of his mischievous and cunning nature. Some even said villainous, brute and rebellious. To hear those words scared you.

You had dreamed of true love and romance. Of being courted and wooed. You dreamed of a sweet, kind man who would treat you like you deserved - and not of a brute who would treat you like his maid. You spent endless sleepless nights within your chambers, thinking about your future with Loki. What if he truly was just a harsh, mischievous scamp? What if your dreams were about to shatter?

And now, suddenly the moment had come...

But then you started to hear other stories of Loki Odinson as well. About how charming and witty he is. How gentlemanly and eloquent. And how utterly handsome he shall look.

You were torn. Torn by every story they told you - and the worst part was that you never got to find out what the truth was and which talk was cheap. At least not until the day you would marry him. It left you a mess.

You were standing in a huge chamber in the royal palace of Asgard. The room bustled with maids, who were preparing everything to get you ready for the wedding ceremony. You nervously fumbled your fingers; constantly tugging at the soft fabric of your wine red dress. Your mother had just left the room along with your father; leaving you and your troubled mind alone.

From the first encounter with Frigga, you could tell that she had a heart of gold. She was so kind and lovely. Perhaps the most good-hearted person you ever met. You got along with your future mother-in-law instantly. She had welcomed you with open arms. And right in that moment, you couldn't picture another way out.

You couldn't deny the anxiety any longer. It hit you full force; realisation dawning on you like the sun... I can't marry a man I never saw in my life.

So, you decided to order a maid to fetch the only person you hoped would be kind enough to help you. Queen Frigga. The Allmother. You and your family had arrived about a week ago and even in that week you never got to see Loki. Only the king and queen. Not the princes.

Frigga gently took your hands in hers and led you over to the bed; sitting down with you. "What is the matter, dear? The fear within you is stronger than your nervousity. I can feel it." You swallowed hard, "I- It's... It's just..." and had to take a deep breath. "I'm afraid of marrying a man I never saw in my life. I-I know that this is not of importance and probably even forbidden, but-" A radiant smile forming on the queen's lips interrupted you. You furrowed your brows; were confused. Even more when she started to chuckle.

Only a few moments passed, before the young maid returned to your chambers; following the queen.

"Y/N, my dear..." She immediately walked up to you. "You called for me?" You just nodded; anxious eyes meeting Frigga's beautiful blue ones. "I-I did. Could we... Could we talk in private?" "Of course!" She reassured you, then clapped her hands twice. "Would you all please leave and give us some privacy?" All the maids stopped in their tasks and immediately rushed to leave your chambers.

"My son requested the exact same. Barely before you called me to your chambers, I sat with Loki and spoke about this with him as well. I guess you are quite similar in that case." She chuckled again and reached for your hand again. You just stared at her; not quite believing what she just said. "I understand you, dear. I couldn't do such a thing either. Back when I had to wed my husband, I demanded to at least see him and share a few sentences with him beforehand as well. It helped me to adapt to the situation I was in. Therefore, I can't deny yours, neither my son's wish." Frigga stood up and offered you her arm. "Come on."

You swallowed hard; feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest, as you approached the little pavilion.

You blinked; were utterly speechless. You knew Frigga would understand you, but that... That wasn't something you anticipated to happen. Still a bit stunned, you stood up and took her offer. She led you out of your chambers, down several hallways you had never seen before, until you were outside the palace and had reached a beautiful garden. She stopped, nodding towards a small pavilion quite a few meters away, which was surrounded by rose bushes and cherry trees.

"My son is waiting for you in the pavilion." Frigga let go of your arm and gave you a smile. "You have about an hour before the maids will return to get you both ready for the ceremony. Make sure to be back at your chambers by that time." With a wink and a soft pad on your arm, she turned around and left.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Carefully - almost shyly, you peeked around the corner.

A man was standing in the middle of the small pavilion, with his back towards you; hands clasped behind his lower back. You could see that he was wearing a green tunic and black leather boots. Gold accents highlighted his whole outfit.

He had long hair - as black as the feathers of a raven. It fell in soft curls over his shoulders. Your gaze climbed up and down his body. He was tall. Norns, he was so tall - and his hands were big. You could tell. They would swallow yours whole.

"H-Hello?" A dark, smooth and slightly high-pitched voice spoke. "A-Are... Are you Princess Y/N?" You could tell by his voice that he was nervous, too. Probably even afraid - just like you.

You didn't even notice how your mouth fell agape. Or how you made another small step forwards; totally enhanced by the God you saw standing in front of you.

Barely after you set one foot in front of the other, a small twig snapped underneath the weight of your body. You flinched - and the man quickly turned to face you; flinching the slightest bit as well. The gust which was created by Loki's quick spin was sent directly into your direction and no second later, his scent hit you; invaded your nostrils... Leather, something dark and musky, charred wood and a slight hint of mint and something fruity. It smelled so rich, so divine, but also so addictive and cosy. You almost fainted.

You needed a moment to get yourself together. "Y-Yes, I-" Your words faded into a gasp as your eyes met his for the first time ever. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Blue like water and as deep as the oceans. They held so many emotions. Nervousity and fear, but also curiosity and excitement. But above all kindness - the same kindness which sparkled within his mother's eyes.

Loki smiled and took a few cautious steps towards you. "It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, my princess." He gathered a bit of his bravery and hesitatingly reached for your hand, taking it gently in his. With a soft bow, he bestowed a small kiss upon your knuckles; soft, smooth lips brushing against your cold skin. A shudder rippled through you.

"The- The pleasure is a-all mine, my prince." You more or less stammered out, now utterly distracted by his chiselled facial features. High cheekbones, sharp jawline and a perfectly shaped nose. Norns, you thought. He looks like carved out of marble.

Loki gave you a smile. "Thank you for agreeing to this little... secret meeting. I-I just had to see you before the ceremony, I-" You gave his hand - which still enveloped yours a soft squeeze. "I know. I felt the same way." A nervous chuckle left his lips, followed by an even bigger smile. "That makes this situation so much easier..." You reciprocated his smile. "Indeed, my prince."

You took a seat on the small, cosy bench and decided to use the time you had left to talk and get to know each other at least a little bit, before you'd become husband and wife. It was exactly what you - and Loki needed. But especially, it calmed your fears of marrying a brute, despiteful man. They had been wrong... Oh so wrong. Loki was not like that. He was like you hoped he'd be. Kind, gentlemanly, sweet - and utterly romantic. His heart may be battered and bruised, but you could feel that this man would do everything to be a good, loving husband for you.

The hour flew by way too fast; within the blink of an eye and soon it was time to part ways - for now.

"Thank you, my pri-" "Loki. Please... It's Loki for you." That made you blush even more - if that was even possible. "Thank you, Loki." You smiled. "I can't believe I'm going to be wed to such a handsome, polite and sweet man either."

"Again... Thank you for agreeing to this." Loki said; voice soft. You shook your head. "No need to thank me. I wanted this, too, you know..."

Silence settled over the both of you, until he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "I can't believe I'm marrying such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in barely a few hours." You blushed in the darkest shades of crimson at his words; suppressing a girlish giggle to slip past your lips.

That caused Loki to blush.

A nervous chuckle bubbled from deep within his chest. "Thank you-" "Y/N." You interrupted him. "Y/N." The way he rolled his name off your tongue almost send you into another dimension - you were sure of it.

His words hit you straight into your heart. You could swear it was aflame by now, burning for this man you knew so little, but were going to wed in a few hours.

"Are you still nervous?" Loki asked then; eyes soft. You nodded. "Y-Yes, I- I'm afraid it's going to get worse..." You giggled nervously; desperately trying to play it cool, but failing.

He took your hand in his again; gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "I know this is normal. I-I am nervous, too, but... Please don't worry. You are not alone in this. I'll be there - and I won't ever let go of you."

You took deep breaths; smiling brightly. Now you could say that you were really looking forward towards your wedding. For the first time in centuries.

"T-Thank you. That is really reassuring to know. I-I won't let go either." Loki smiled, "That's good to know, my darling." and leaned in for a delicate, small peck on your lips. It was gentle and barely lasting - but it felt so right. So good.

Before you were able to answer something, his hand slipped from yours as he was passing you by; stepping out of the pavilion and out of your sight.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Your mother said with tears in her eyes. She placed her pointer finger underneath your chin. "It's time for you to enter the next chapter of your life. A lot is going to change, I know - but your whole life was spent preparing you for exactly that moment. You're a strong woman, Y/N. Never doubt that. And Loki is going to be a wonderful husband. He's the perfect match."

By now, you had to fight off the tears as well.

Your mother leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm so proud of you, just like your father. I love you." You smiled; swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in your throat. "Thank you, mama. I love you, too." She gave you a loving, motherly smile and left to sit with the other wedding attendants.

You took a deep breath and with the sounds of the fanfare, you stepped through the golden doors and slowly walked down the red carpet towards Loki - who stood at the altar; dressed in his ceremonial armour, waiting for your arrival.

All eyes were on you, but you only had eyes for your prince.

When his eyes landed on you, they widened immediately; his mouth falling agape. He watched how your wedding dress swayed softly with each step you took.

She looks absolutely beautiful, he thought; feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest.

It was all you needed in that moment.

You walked slowly, gracefully - like you've been taught. It felt like an eternity, until you finally reached him.

Loki immediately stretched out his hands for you to lay yours in his - and you did. The moment you touched, it felt like you could finally breathe normal again. His skin was so soft and warm; giving you the feeling of warmth and comfort. For you, his touch was a safe haven. He was anchoring you; preventing you to get lost in the sea of no-man's-land.

You looked up. His endless blue eyes met yours for the second time - and time seems to stand still around you. In that moment, it was only you and him.

You smiled and finally weren’t afraid anymore of the future. Not if it involved the man right in front of you.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson

[idksmtms]

You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 1

Full Request

AN: OMGGGG my first request! And it’s an absolute banger too??? I feel like a queen, I truly do. 

I know the original request was more about Marvel-based Norse mythology but I’m not a Marvel fan so I went with original Norse mythology! Hope that’s ok! 

-Also yes, this is a place where we pretend the Hades-Persephone myth isn’t as messed up as it actually is and is a sweet love story instead, fuck off- 

-I know Hestia is supposed to be a virgin goddess and never marry but like… I’m thinking of a cute hearth goddess and how she could love Hephaestus and I want that for them- 

Final PS. that corner pic of Toby Stephens doesn't fit the rest of the aesthetic, I know, but I saw it while searching and it had me quivering so I had to add it.

Summary: Zeus and Odin have brought peace to the worlds of the gods. With peace comes love. But all is NOT fair in love and war. 

Word count: 6,187

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

It was the dawn of a new era when Kronos was thrown to Tartarus. His evil had touched more than just the world of the Greek gods, sending ripples through the very world of mythology itself. Though the worlds of the Norse and the Grecians were thousands of miles away, their gods had often met on the battlefields. A multitude of stories, now lost to time, told of the wars of snow and sand, told of the loves made and broken between viking idols and spartan gods. But upon the ‘death’ of Kronos, the new king of the gods found himself in a forgiving mood. Odin too, having given up so much for wisdom, realised the best way forward was to have peace in all aspects under his control, once and for all. 

The two gods met deep in a forest exactly halfway between what is now Greece and Norway, a forest that eventually became the town of Vlasim in the Czech Republic. No one other than the two kings knows what was said in order for the peace pact to be made, but they left with promises of order, friendship, and an invitation for the Asgardians to visit the stronghold that is Mount Olympus. 

When Zeus returned with this news, they all rejoiced and began ensuring Mount Olympus looked better than it ever had before. After all, they still needed to outshine these other supposed “gods”. Hera took charge of ensuring the entire place glowed, already beginning to argue with Demeter on how the flowers would look best. Aphrodite was already picking out her best dresses and sprucing up her hair, Artemis and Apollo hopping off to go hunting for some creature that would show their true prowess to the Asgardians (secretly hoping they would make it back in time). Dionysus was left in charge of the entertainment, though he was quickly focused only on providing wine for the entire table, and Hephaestus and Hestia found comfort in quiet corners of the room, watching all the chaos unfold. Hades had been unbothered, promising he would show up with Persephone when the Asgardians arrived and nothing more before disappearing in a puff of smoke back to the underworld and no doubt the loving arms of his wife. Poseidon was… well he didn’t know how he felt. If he was honest, he was beginning to feel old. Life as a god wasn’t all it was cut out to be, and it had been dragging a bit recently. His millennia of existence were beginning to catch up to him and he wasn’t sure how to jumpstart his enjoyment again. He had even taken to wearing an older form recently, a man still in his prime, but one with the wisdom of a thousand years subtly showing itself in the lines around his eyes and mouth. A man still corded in muscle but with the stockiness, width, and strength of one who had had one hundred lifetimes to hone it. This seemed like exactly the kind of thing he needed to reintroduce excitement to his life. Though Zeus had not included him in the peace talks, he was happy to be part of the governing that came after, to help maintain the peace between the gods. For once he felt he could happily commend his brother for a job well done. 

And he was excited to meet these new gods, apprehensive too of course, but… excited. It would be a good opportunity to measure themselves up to the others in their world, to truly decide if they were as invincible as they believed they were. Poseidon believed it was important for the gods to have a wake-up call every now and again to their fragility, and he was sure this would be one of them. 

Across the world, in the realm of Asgard and the halls of Valhalla, ale was poured and songs were sung as the gods rejoiced. Odin sat on his throne high above the others as some danced, some fought, some feasted, and some passed out from too much of everything too soon. Odin watched over them all with one of his rare smiles, a hand resting atop the one Frigg had placed on the arm of his throne. Even Loki, occasional friend, occasional enemy, had joined for this celebration. He was proud of what he had achieved, of the worthy sacrifices he had made, to not only bring him eternal wisdom, but to bring peace between two races of gods. Odin turned to Frigg, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She blushed, turning to him and pressing one on his cheek in return. 

“Everything is well?” She asked, caressing his cheek just under the eye he had given up. 

“Perfect,” he sighed, then looked back out to the dancefloor where his children now pranced jokingly.

Thor laughed heartily as he began to chug from his mug, froth spilling over the sides of his cheeks as his friends clapped and cheered. Loki even smiled, though he was more caught up in trying to continue his conversation with the little goddess sandwiched between her brother and him. Odin’s youngest child, the newest addition to Asgard, giggled at her brother’s antics and the clever commentary the god of mischief whispered in her ear. She was still young by the standards of the gods, having only seen a thousand sun cycles, and she was treated as such, cherished by all who looked upon the daughter of Odin, the goddess of love, so loved in fact, that Odin had chosen to bestow his own title of god of war onto her. The goddess of love, and war, Y/n Odinsdottir. 

You were excited for this trip to Mount Olympus. You had been aware of the Greek gods since your birth but you had not had the opportunity of meeting them in battle. Being only a thousand years old meant you had been coddled for five hundred of them, and though you had been given the title of goddess of war, you still felt you had to earn it. Balancing the powers of love and war was a struggle you were still learning. You had spent the last five hundred years trying to choose the right warriors to bestow your blessing upon, the right vikings to give the power of love (the second being especially difficult as you had only felt familial love thus far). This would be an opportunity to learn from these other gods, to not only enjoy a new era of peace but to build on your own skills. 

Odin, Frigg, and Thor enjoyed your excitement, watching with smiles as you pranced about in different dresses wondering which would be the best to wear, brushing out your hair and carefully pinning the dark blue tresses into an updo. Though you often changed the way you looked (shapeshifting came with the job of being a love goddess for all mythologies it seemed), you never changed the blue hair. You had quickly grown fond of it, and the natural movement of hair in that colour reminded you of waves on the ocean, a particular favourite spot of yours. Even past the blue hair, you often wore blue dresses in varying shades, simply because you had come to love the ocean, and thus the colour blue. The other gods often remarked that love was not black nor white, rather it was blue. 

On the eve of the grand meeting of the gods, you had sat beside Loki in a stone alcove high above the feast hall of Valhalla, watching the slain heroes rejoice for another evening. Though it was in Loki’s nature to be a trickster, you had come to enjoy his company and often seeked him out when you were bored or nervous. He knew the history of the gods almost as well as Odin, and you enjoyed the way he told his stories with exaggerated voices and dancing movements. You loved learning about all that had happened before you, all the battles the gods had fought, the relationships they had made, long before you were even a thought in Odin’s head. On a night like this, when you had too much energy to just while away the hours, you found Loki and begged him to tell you a story. You were still young, and possibly your power as a love goddess had an influence too, but he found he could never quite say no to you. 

“Alright, little goddess, settle in, for tonight I tell you a story of love and perilous heartbreak, a story that involves lovers who should never have met, lovers who had no business being together, and who fate punished for it,” Loki began, eyes sparkling as he gazed deep into your own. You shivered and nodded, excitement and just a hint of fear tickling your spine. You sat back against the stone wall and brought your knees to your chest, resting your chin on top of them and waiting for Loki to begin again. 

“So many years ago that neither you nor I were even a thought in the dust, one of the aesir fell in love with a goddess of another land. Though their names and abilities are lost now, we know that the aesir was one of our strongest, almost indestructible. The goddess was special in her own right, among her own people, and these two great clans warred for many centuries. Years and years were spent slaughtering each other’s families, using human battles as their own, bleeding each other dry until there was barely anything left to call them gods. 

During one such battle, this aesir had broken through the front lines of the opponents, but was stopped dead in his tracks when he laid eyes upon a beautiful goddess helping to heal what she could. He was enamoured by her, so enamoured that for the first time in any battle he was nicked by an arrow.” Loki paused, seeing the way your eyes widened and began to get teary, and he smiled gently. “Do not worry little goddess, it was only a small cut, and he was able to heal, but the true wound was in his heart. He wanted to find this goddess, to be near her, to love her, and yet every day he had to fight her people, without fail. 

One day, he decided to stay back while the others fought, and he snuck over to the other side to try and find his goddess. He disguised himself as a butterfly and fluttered around their camp looking for her. Again, when he found her he was struck dumb by her beauty, and instantly changed into his true form in front of her. She was terrified, and she almost began to yell for help, but he begged her not to. He promised her his life, his very essence as a god, if only she would give him a chance to show her how much he had come to love her. Of course she was apprehensive at first, he was the enemy after all, but she allowed him this. 

The aesir took his knife, cut his palm, and dripped his blood onto the ground. With the first drop, he created a new flower and named it Linnea, for her. With the second, he created a flurry of butterflies that would follow after her wherever she would go, do whatever she wished of them. And with the third, he created a thin gold thread. He took one end of the thread and tied it around his wrist before offering the other to her. He said that if she took it, he would bind himself to her, soul to soul. That if she loved him back, they may be separated, but the gold thread would tie them together forever and wherever they may be, they could always follow it back to one another. The goddess, won over by his utter devotion, accepted his offering and promised to love him back until the end of her days. 

Each night they separated to their own camps, connected only by the gold thread, and each day while the battles and the war raged on, they would sneak away to far off places to be together and live in a happiness their people couldn’t seem to find. But all was not well for the lovers, for the Norns had spun their threads and knew that the price of their love was one no god could ever pay. And so, one day when the lovers snuck off, a god from this other clan who had been promised this goddess’s hand in marriage decided to follow. He saw this ultimate betrayal and sounded the alarm. Both lovers were dragged back to their camps in shackles, the aesir and the other gods unsure of how to punish them. 

The eldest of the aesir knew what must be done. The lovers could never be together, it was simply impossible, and he spoke with the leader of this other clan in a moment of truce. They were both in agreement, and the elder was sent off to complete this task. He ventured to Yggdrasil and found Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld. He had Verðandi remove any memory or thought of the goddess from the aesir’s mind. He had Urðr remove any trace of the goddess from the aesir’s fate. And he had Skuld remove any future with the goddess. 

When this was done, the elder returned to the camp and found the god to see if the Norns had worked true. He had no memory of the goddess, and seemed returned as he was to the aesir. On the other side, the same had happened to the goddess with her own fates, any trace of the god removed from her thoughts, memories, fate and future. Everyone thought all was well and normalcy had returned, but both god and goddess felt the eternal tug of a gold thread wrapped around their wrist that no one but them could see. Both attempted to follow it but it seemed to never have an end. They would stand in front of each other, and look straight through the other, never able to see one another again. Forever they were cursed to wonder why they were pulled toward something they could not see, something they would never be able to find.” Loki finished with a sigh, looking at you as you sat curled up against the wall opposite him. You were frowning, tears collected at the corners of your eyes and lip trembling. 

“I didn’t like that story,” you mumbled, shaking your head and wiping at your eyes. “What was so wrong with them loving each other?” 

“Little goddess, we are terrified of the things we don’t understand. We don’t understand love, we don’t understand why it evades us but not those we hate. We don’t understand why it makes us love those we do not want to love.” Loki began to stand, brushing off his legs and shirt with a shrug. 

“Then… then none of you understand me. You are all terrified of me. I am the goddess of love, am I not?” You asked, looking up at him with fearful eyes. But Loki just smiled and patted your head. 

“You help us understand love, little goddess. That is why we need you, because without you, we would all be even more lost. Imagine that,” he smirked and chuckled, then walked away, mumbling something about readying for the journey to Olympus. 

When the Norse gods began to arrive on Olympus, the Vanir entering first, the gathered horde of Greek gods and goddesses and spirits began to mumble and talk among themselves as they judged the foreigners that now walked among them. The Grecians felt their dressing was superior, their peplos were so white that they would burn the eyes of a human. The gold edging was pure and shined as if it was freshly polished and not thread. The purple cloaks they all donned would bankrupt every village in the human world just to get enough dye to make it look that bright. They were… amused? Intrigued? Maybe even disgusted by the fashion of their guests. They all wore varying shades of red. They had either thin linen garments with animal furs draped across their shoulders and arms, or donned thick tunics of sheepskin and wool pants with leather belts decorated with axes and swords. Both groups were… apprehensive to mingle. 

Zeus and Hera sat on their thrones and looked down on their guests, nodding greetings as they watched for Odin and Frigg. Poseidon and Hades sat on their own thrones to the side of their brother. Hades was turned to the side and conversing solely with Persephone who stood just behind his throne, leaning onto it and smiling down at her husband. Poseidon just sat back and watched the gods enter the grand hall, resting his chin on his hand and trying not to yawn with boredom. 

The entrance of Odin and Frigg could not be missed. As they crossed the bridge into Mount Olympus, they were surrounded by the Aesir. Odin held Frigg’s hand, both dressed in traditional Viking fashion. Frigg wore a modest woollen strap dress in a shade of red so deep it looked like she had bathed in blood. Her grey eyes were smudged with black on the lids and her hair was braided on both sides and tied back, resting on a black fur stole draped over her shoulders. Odin was dressed completely in black, from his eyepatch to his tunic and sheepskin pants. But his cloak was of the pure white fur of a bear, the edges dragging on the ground behind him. 

Thor followed behind his father, dressed as a common viking, but with Mjolnir dangling from his wrist, shiny and almost glowing. Baldr walked beside him, a simple white tunic and black pants comprising his outfit. But it was his hair that was the talk of the audience, so pale and white that it seemed to glow itself. He was a handsome creature, youthful and majestic, with a muscular body and a gentle smile. The muses began to giggle as they watched him walk past. 

It was after Thor and Baldr had separated to stand beside their father and mother, that little gasps and whispers began to pervade the air. Behind them had walked Odin’s youngest child, wearing a dress of blue that draped over your body like water. It looked like it had been made of the thinnest netting all gathered and crushed together then draped over your body in the fashion of the Greeks. The fabric was so light near the top that it looked like the very froth of a wave, and darkened as it flared out behind you, the hem almost as black as the deepest trenches of the sea. Like your mother and father, you had draped a fur over your shoulders, hoping to appease your people. You had wanted to blend in with the Greeks, had wanted them to feel respected (you were entering their home after all) but you still wanted to look like a viking. 

The Aesir walked forward as Zeus stood from his throne, followed slowly by his brothers and Hera. He smiled at the approaching group, waiting until they were just in front of the thrones before speaking. 

“Welcome, all, to Mount Olympus,” his voice boomed, and a small flutter of claps sounded from around the crowd. “Thank you for joining us, and for ensuring peace between our peoples for the rest of our eternity,” he smiled, and Odin bowed his head in thanks, letting go of Frigg’s hand to hold both of his own in front of himself. “Please, converse, rest, enjoy the sights of Olympus and partake in the refreshments,” Zeus gestured his arms to the tables of ambrosia that stretched so far that even the gods lost sight of their ends. With that, he sat back on his throne, and waited for Odin and Frigg to approach. 

Hades took the opportunity to grab Persephone’s hand and try to slink off but the goddess just chided him and forced him to sit back in his throne as she went to see her mother. Hel chose this moment to approach him and the two began a stilted conversation about their individual worlds of death. Hephaestus and Hestia, who had taken up to joining together in situations of unfamiliarity, sat together in the corner, whispering among themselves. Apollo found company in Bragi, though both instantly began speaking in verse to try and prove who was the better poet. 

Artemis, Ares, and Athena had crowded Thor and Tyr and were all in different positions of trying to look dangerous, unamused, and intrigued at the same time. Aphrodite had pounced on Baldr, but found competition in the muses who had already made their way to surround him, and soon found herself flirting with Freyr. Hermes and Loki too had found delightful conversation with one another, full of ideas of thievery and trickery. 

And Poseidon was… enamoured. Since the moment he had laid eyes on you he had not taken them away. He had slowly sat back down in his chair, worried that if he stayed standing his knees may give out. You made a god weak. You were beautiful, ethereal, magical, beyond anything even the gods could think to conjure. And your dress… oh that dress, had you chosen it for him? Had you arrived with a mind to capture his very essence? Because it started with that dress. You looked the very soul of water, the very thing that made a world impossible without it. Your hair, your luscious hair, so blue that it reminded him of his palace, of the places deepest in the sea where he felt truly at peace. And the small smile on your face as you meandered between the different groups of gods conversing, slightly shy of your place, but not unhappy. It was the smile of a fresh pearl, one that shined under even the dimmest of lights. 

Poseidon watched you walk about, not entering any conversation but not shying away from listening to the others speak. Your pretty face never once dipped into a frown, and he felt like he would never truly catch his breath if he could see you in his line of vision. It took every bit of his godly power to force his eyes away, and he was both angered and thankful when some god (who seemed to be the only one who looked as old as he probably was) walked up to his throne and began conversing about fish. 

You were so happy that Njord had listened to your little prompt to go speak to the god of the seas, because it meant he finally pulled his eyes away from you, and you could begin to watch him in return. He had been the first of the thrones you had looked at, and the only one you truly cared about now. His eyes were such a dark blue that they reminded you of the ocean, of your favourite place in the ocean in fact, and they seemed so… knowing, as if one look at another told him everything he needed to know about them. His form was majestic, stoic and strong, with broad shoulders and thick arms that made you desire something you had never desired before. You wanted him to hold you. You wanted him to wrap those arms around you, to run your fingers over those arms. Were you bewitched? Were you cursed? Even his hair made you feel desire, those beautiful locks of hair that resembled celestial bronze, neat yet still unrestrained with a particularly unruly strand falling onto his forehead. You wanted to run your fingers through that hair, to feel if it was truly as soft as you imagined, to press your nose into it and inhale the slightly salty scent that surely clung to him, that you had come to love as much as the sight of the ocean itself. You wanted to feel his beard on your cheeks, under your palms, to know if the white hairs that threaded through it were any coarser than the others, to know what it felt like to have a man’s face in the palms of your hands. Your entire being felt as if it was on fire, and the more you stared at him, at the slight signs of age that showed themselves in the lines by his eyes and mouth, the more you felt it burn inside you. 

Someone cleared their throat to your right and you gasped, whirling on them as a blush branded itself on your cheeks, as if your body wanted to betray your thoughts. You smiled, hoping to cover up whatever embarrassment may have shown on your face, and gazed at the god before you. He was about your height, if not a little taller, with a grin that reminded you of Loki’s. His hair was black and combed back smoothly in a rather regal fashion. His eyes were black too, you noticed, so black that you couldn’t differentiate the pupil from the iris. You smiled brightly at him, bowing your head in greeting when you noticed the little wings that protruded from his shoes. 

“My goodness! Your shoes!” You exclaimed, gasping and pointing at them with a delighted little laugh. 

“Yes,” he laughed along, “they help me travel quickly when I am tired, though they do often have a mind of their own,” he joked, and you laughed loudly. He had a sweet voice, one that would sound happy even when he was sad. “I am Hermes, son of Zeus, what is your name?” His eyes were sparkling and you found you enjoyed it. 

“I am Y/n of the Aesir, goddess of love and war,” you introduced yourself, holding out your hand to him. Hermes held it as if it were a precious gift and pressed his lips to your knuckles. You had never felt so regal. 

“Ah, yes, Odin’s youngest, I have heard of your prowess on the battlefield.” Hermes was surely a charmer, you thought, and you smiled brightly, a tinge of pink to your cheeks. 

“You flatter me, I am still unproven as a goddess of war, though I suppose I do plan a strategy well,” you smiled cheekily, shrugging nonchalantly and holding your hands behind your back as you swayed girlishly. 

If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your ability to fight. It was the reason your father had given you this title, your cunning ability to break down your opponents in all sorts of ways, to plan out a fight before it had even begun. Simply put, you were good at it, you could defeat Tyr with ease now, and even Thor had become no challenge. While you still struggled with the love side of your godly abilities and duties, you could always rely on your fighting. 

“What about you, Hermes? What are you the god of?” You asked, tilting your head in question. 

“Many things, trade, luck, travel, and thieves,” he answered breezily, though his smile betrayed his pride. “I am the herald of our pantheon, the messenger of the gods.” 

“Well you are very important then, for where would we be without our messengers?” You told him sweetly, and all he could do was nod. His chest filled with warmth and he knew he had to be careful or the affection that now bubbled inside of him would erupt from his mouth. 

“You are wise as you are sweet,” he simply replied, and you just smiled brightly before turning to face the group and stepping slightly closer to his side. 

“You remind me of Loki, though he is not a brother, I see him as such,” you told him, and a small pang hit him in the stomach. You had already passed him off as a brother it seemed. But Hermes just shook his head to himself and smiled at you again, leading you toward a display of flowers just to the side that was one of Demeter’s favoured experimental projects. He was tenacious, if nothing else, and he would eventually get you to enjoy his company as something more. 

Poseidon had ended up enjoying his conversation with Njord (who was surprisingly intelligent and rather engaging when conversing about fish) but when the god had left him he instantly began to look around for you. Any good mood was squashed when he saw you walking off arm in arm with Hermes, and a thunderous look settled across his face. Somewhere on earth a storm began to brew. Luckily, you didn’t walk far, and he was able to watch over you from his throne, though his mood had already soured, and continued to sour the longer you stayed attached to Hermes’ arm. 

Hades, who had finally rid himself of Hel’s company, Hestia and Hephaestus from their corner, and even Dionysus from his seat at the ambrosia table with a jug of wine bigger than his head watched Poseidon. He was acting rather odd, and they could all now see why. His eyes had not left the girl-goddess since she had arrived, and he was miserably failing if he was attempting to be subtle. They had noticed the goddess watching him in return, the pink tint on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye, and a teasing giggle seemed to build in all those watching. How poignant for Poseidon to fall for the goddess dressed like the sea. Hades stood from his throne and made his way to his brother, sitting on the arm of his throne and smirking at him.

“I will admit, brother, that she is beautiful,” he told Poseidon quietly. The god of the sea snapped his head to his brother, and scowled. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he answered simply, but Hades just laughed, patting Poseidon on the shoulder. 

“Oh brother, you truly do not understand the art of subtlety, do you?” Hades raised an eyebrow and Poseidon stared at him bewildered. “You have watched that one since she arrived and done nothing but that. And goodness, the way you watch her! Have you never seen a woman?” Poseidon shrugged his brother’s hand off of his shoulders and had the decency to look slightly sheepish. He had assumed no one would notice. Hades noted the slight shame in his brother’s expression and sighed, smiling gently. 

“Do not worry, I will tell no one, though I may not have anything to tell as she does seem to be enjoying Hermes’ company,” he added teasingly, and Poseidon growled at his brother’s back. 

He was distracted by a commotion that had arisen near where Hermes and the goddess had stood. Now a group had gathered around them, fluttering with whispers, and he was too curious not to know what was going on. He walked swiftly from the throne, standing just behind some of the minor gods in the group and peering over their heads. 

“So you are a goddess of war, your brother has said?” Ares asked, hands on his hips as he stared down at you. You smiled up at him, nodding your head. 

“The goddess of war and love,” you told him. Athena and Aphrodite, both stood just behind Ares with their arms crossed over their chests scoffed. 

“A goddess of war and love? Must not be good at either,” Aphrodite murmured, voice snarky and loud enough to be heard by everyone. Athena smirked, hiding a chuckle behind her hand. You frowned at this, looking toward the two goddesses, but Ares just moved so you would be forced to continue staring at him.  

“She is a guest, do not be rude,” Hermes spat, but Ares and Aphrodite just waved their hands in twin moves of dismissal. 

“I am the god of war, she is the goddess of love, we have the right to ask questions of a guest who resembles us so closely,” Ares smirked at Hermes, but he was quick to return his gaze to you. His eyes were like fire, hungry and angry, ready to burn whatever he looked at. 

“So, what exactly do you do? Do you make enemies fall in love and end wars?” Aphrodite snarked, tilting her head and staring at you like you were just something annoying that had flown into her path. 

Poseidon wanted to intervene. He was desperate to come to your defence, to have the waters flood Olympus and drown each of them until they were nothing but salt in the sea. But before he could step forward to your aid, he saw the subtle changes in you. He saw the way your eyes hardened, any trace of the happiness and gentleness with which you had treated everyone thus far disappearing. He saw your back straighten just a tad more, your shoulders pushing back and your balance shifting just slightly forward onto the balls of your feet. You clenched your teeth together for a moment before relaxing your jaw and looking up at Ares. 

“Would you like to fight me?” You asked simply, folding your hands in front of you. Ares began to laugh, a deep guffawing laugh that had him bending backward and puffing it into the sky. Aphrodite tittered, pressing her fingers to her mouth and turning to the side as her laugh tinkled into the air. Even Athena smirked, though she didn’t say anything nor laugh, just a widening of her lips and a slight disbelief at your stupidity in her eyes. “Is there a problem?” 

“You have just asked to fight a REAL god of war, child, what am I to do other than laugh?” He replied, throwing his arms out and gazing at the crowd. 

“Careful, brother,” Hermes spat, but you just placed a hand on his arm, stoic expression not changing. 

“You could fight me,” you answered simply, beginning to tie your hair back. “Unless you do not believe in yourself, REAL god of war?” 

Ares snarled, baring his teeth at you before stepping back and throwing off his purple sash. It would only be a hindrance to his fighting ability. You smiled, broad and bright, and a longsword appeared in your hand. A glorious weapon, with a handle of white bone carved from a broken fang of Fenrir. The blade was black like onyx, but fashioned from the strongest metal the dwarves could find and forge in Nidavellir. It was your favourite. You spun it in your hand lazily, inspecting it for a moment before turning to look back at Ares. Your eyes flashed blue, so quickly that if anyone had blinked they would have missed it. Then, with a smile so gentle you seemed you could never hurt a fly, you attacked. 

It took you no more than five minutes to have Ares on the floor, your sword pointed at his throat. You were swift like wind, clanging your sword against his before twisting around him and kicking the back of his knee and then the other to flip him over as he fell. Not a hair out of place, you smiled down at him, pressing the point just a little into the skin of his throat before pulling it away completely and sending it back to Asgard. Ares stared up at you with eyes so wide you thought they would pop out of his head. He was winded, puffing on the floor as he tried to figure out where he was, what had just happened. 

“How did you…” Hermes stared at you, mouth wide open. 

“I told you! I’m good at strategy. He is cocky, and he underestimated me. He believed I was being cocky, and thought that when I saw him with his sword I would be apprehensive. He did not expect a swift beginning attack, nor did he believe I would risk trying to go for an obvious place like the back of the knees. To know your opponent is to be able to defeat them. Simple.” You smiled at Hermes, shrugging and turning away from the crowd to venture around the flower display and find one you hadn’t seen yet. 

Ares sat up, Aphrodite gulped, and Athena turned away, walking off. The entire group began to whisper about what they had just witnessed, the story spreading to all the gods and spirits quicker than a wildfire. They slowly dispersed, leaving Ares on the floor with Aphrodite gently patting his shoulder in a sad attempt at comfort (which he shoved off as he stood and stormed away). 

Poseidon watched all this and waited until he had walked back to his throne to let himself smile. He leaned back and replayed the fight in his mind, chuckling at the way you had stomped on the back of Ares’ knee with your delicate shoes. Oh he was absolutely enthralled by this goddess, and he didn’t even know your name yet…

Taglist: @josxkl1m

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #percy series #pjo show #pjo #poseidon fic update #poseidon x reader #poseidon pjo #pjo poseidon #poseidon #posideon #poseiden #poseidad #poseidón #posiedon #kronos #norse mythology #norse gods #norse pantheon #norse goddess reader #percy jackson tv show #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson series #percy jackson show #percy jackson x reader

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Coldness is my love for you

Loki x fem!reader

warning : obsession, kiss, Loki using is powers, wounds, hurt/comfort kinda, kidnapping

Summary : What was supposed to be a simple meeting between the representatives of the twelve worlds. But an attack not only changes everything, the King of Jotunheim also strikes and finally takes what is rightfully his.

Info : The first Marvel work here wow finally a little motivation for Marvel eventho I'm not really anymore watching the latest movies and shows and stopped after Loki Season 1. I still wanna write for it so here we are plus the Fandom is still in me somewhere ;) Have fun reading.

Ps : Favorite movies : Thor.1 & Blade

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had never seen him as cold. She never had. Ever since she had met him, the prince no the king of Jotunheim at a gathering of the worlds.

She, as a human representative of Mitgard, was also present, together with the Avengers, only as a legal representation, even if this seemed almost superfluous in the face of the gods. But then what? Right, the attack by someone unknown, something or someone who did not belong to the twelve worlds, someone from outside.

But the attack, even if the gods could defend them well, she still felt the fear as she faced these hideous figures. Herself without weapons, without strength and without a plan of battle.

She was a human, not a god or a super-trained assassin. She was just a damned substitute. She had seen Black Widow stand in front of her as the Avengers protected her agent and fought the creatures.

She could do nothing but clutch the pen in her hand tightly and hide behind one of the already overturned tables. Clutching her "weapon" tightly, she felt the floor vibrate as the powers of the gods and fighters seemed to break the room.

Her heartbeat was almost chewing the drones inside her as the battle went down. In her trembling hands the pen that had almost made her cry as she realized she should have stabbed the monsters with a pen. But in her fear she let out a scream as suddenly the wooden table was torn away. It wasn't one of the Avengers or well-meaning gods.

These creatures had found her in the turmoil of battle and made her the new target for death. Fear was in her eyes as she looked up and backed away, staggering and barely standing on her feet.

The pen in her hand all the more ridiculous as she held it in front of her. What was she supposed to do? But before she could even use the pen, something else reached her. Ice. Light and dark shimmering solid ice that had placed itself between her and the creature like a wall.

Her breath escaped in a cloud due to the rapid drop in temperature. ,,No monster should hurt a lady in my presence," she heard that voice, the silver tongue, the serpent, the god and king of Jotunheim. She saw the green eyes looking at her with amusement. This god of mischief was having fun with all this chaos as the scriptures and books always said.

His words at that time were still full of goodness, so disturbing that she didn't recognize the lie. But she should have seen it. She was only half aware of the brutal, almost joyful act of killing the creature.

She saw exactly how the warm red blood ran down the ice, steaming slightly, but it was a minor matter in the sight of the god. Because the only thing that mattered was his beautiful eyes, the green that attracted her and slowly turned red, the red of his true form.

The red of the ice giant's true form before she felt his cool hand and her vision blurred. The last thing she saw before he took her in his arms and disappeared was her friends, the end of the fight and the feeling that she would never see them again.

A feeling she was to prove right.

Because even now, weeks later, they had never seen their homeland, the earth, the avengers, their friends or family again. The only thing she saw in this cold great palace was the ice, the green of magic, when she tried to get out his spell simply created a new door, wall or end.

As well as finding him sitting on his golden throne. ,,The throne that belongs to me" she heard his voice in her head, a painful memory as his hand gripped hers so tightly that his ice threatened to pass to her and she was reminded every day by the freezing burn of what that meant.

He was a god and a king of this ice planet, but she was sure he couldn't feel love, he was simply obsessed with her. ,,My dear, you quickly understand that here on this ground... you are my property" he had said to her after a few days when she still thought the Avenegrs would come or he would take her home.

But no. It was more her fear and questioning that annoyed him when he told her this. A fact she knew to be true. For he presented her with a room of considerable size with bookshelves, a bed and although not made of ice it seemed freezing cold.

The walls and floor, though barely visible, were covered by a sheet of ice that he could see. When she moved, walked around or just breathed, he saw everything. Like a bird in a cage. Like his property as he placed more and more precious jewelry on her body.

The gold rings, the dark red gemstones, the green of her rings or the blue on her necklace. No matter what he gave, it wasn't for her, it was for him to make his property even more beautiful. ,,I've brought you something pet," she heard, as she did every day, if you could call it a day on this planet. She was almost grateful for every moment she didn't spend sleeping when he let her sleep in peace. She didn't have his attention.

But even this was only at first. ,,Thank you" came from her lips, a word she had said too often recently. She did almost nothing else but thank him, thank him. Being grateful to him was the only important thing for him.

Because that meant her love it was not a question for him she had no choice and the sooner his darling would accept this the easier he would become for her in the long run. His steps came closer, his magic passed through the ice and a chair formed beside her.

His form, though now human, she knew that when the light of the other worlds shone through the ice, his emotions came out or when he frightened her. Which he did with every second. Ever since he had "saved" her.

She barely felt the cold of the jewelry because nothing could be colder than his love. The love he gave her, she tried to lie to him when he didn't care. But she knew she would be lying if she didn't respond to him. The beginning of the beginning that still made her heart beat.

His touch was warm and not cold, his love in the form of tenderness and understanding was attractive and there was even a moment when she had loved him. But now she was his pretty jewel. Feeling his cold blue hand on hers, she looked up and gazed into those mesmerizing eyes.

He licked around her jewelry, his touch gentle, and yet she felt the warning chill he could freeze her into a sculpture, and yet he didn't. ,,Fear doesn't suit you dear," he said and something stirred in her eyes and she came back from her aversion, her thoughts.

She was with him again and saw from his grin that he knew. ,,I'm-I'm not afraid," she said to him, but she knew that he didn't even hear it, on the contrary. His hand wandered further up her warm body, searching for her warmth, something he didn't have.

She knew she was tense, knew he still needed her as leverage for the other worlds, or at least her earth. His kisses, which seemed nothing but cold, were full of love. ,,Of course you didn't," he smirked, the green of his eyes returning as she saw his true form recede.

He knew that although it fascinated her, it was like an escape reflex. You could burn yourself on any fire and you could also get freezer burn on a cold blue flame like his heart of ice. But despite everything, despite everything, she leaned into his arms, let him hold her, let him kiss her, let him tell her stories.

Because something inside her was afraid that something worse than this would happen if he stopped loving her one day. ,,You know all this coldness is my love for you," he reminded her as he felt the goosebumps shivering a normal stupid human reaction he hated it made him realize they weren't right.

But it didn't matter, it didn't matter that she knew she didn't love him. Once he had the Infiniy Stone, she would be his one way or the other, then everything would be his forever.

He gave her one last kiss knowing that it was all just a game, a trick at the cost of time. But he was the god of mischief, he could play this game for a long time to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#thor movies #thor 1 #marvel cinematic universe #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki marvel #tom hiddleston

[talaok]

Haii!! Idk if you’re taking requests atm, but if you are, can I request a Joseph Quinn fanfic where Reader is like a famous singer (or another big actress) and she has the BIGGEST celebrity crush on Joseph? Like during interviews if people ask her about her celeb crush, she wouldn’t hesitate to talk about Joseph. On her social media she’s always talking about Joseph. Or when she’s live she always has to make a remark about Joseph. Seeing all of this, Joseph decided to surprise her because he may or may not have a crush on her too

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

Summary: You're the lead singer of a famous band composed of you and your friends Christian, and Martha. You've always had a huge crush on Joseph Quinn, and have never hesitated to render it public,but at the same time, you've convinced yourself to not have the slightest chance with him. As it turns out, you might have been wrong all along.

Warnings:none

a/n: I was tired of always making y/n an actress so she's a singer this time. Yay! Hope you like it! ps: I would be lying if I said that all I could think about while writing this wasn't the Doja cat/Noah beef...

OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE

"Do you have a celebrity crush?" You smiled knowingly as Christian and Martha furrowed their brows, looking for an answer. "God, I don't know" Christian exhaled. You looked at Martha as she pinched her lip, trying to think. "Oh!" she exclaimed "I know mine" she declared enthusiastically, clapping her hands together. There was a moment of silence. You and Christian looked at each other and laughed softly "Great," you smiled at her "who is it?" "I have no idea what his name is but he's the guy who played..." she paused to think. You snorted "are you kidding? You don't even know the character's name?" you laughed. "I'm getting there one second" she rolled her eyes. "Oh c'mon," she said exasperated "You know who" she looked at you in search of help "The marvel one." she explained " I showed you a picture the other day" Your mouth formed a perfect o as you understood who she was talking about. "Oh, of course!" you raised your eyebrows. "The winter soldier!" you said looking at the camera "Sebastian Stan" "Yes him!" Martha shouted "God he's SO hot" she said, fanning herself. "Yeah, that's true" you agreed, smiling. "I think mine would be..." Christian said, pausing a moment "I'm gonna be very basic here and say like" he waved his hands in the air "Jennifer Aniston?" he said uncertainly, looking at you for approval. "Yeah, that's always a good answer" you commented "I think she's kinda like everyone's celebrity crush, to be honest" Martha joked. "Yeah, that's true" Christian agreed. There was a moment of silence. "What about you Y/N?" the interviewer behind the camera asked. Martha and Christian simultaneously looked at you and busted out laughing. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "You really have to ask?" Cristian asked sarcastically, turning to the journalist "Yeah, for real." Martha laughed "There isn't one interview where she doesn't manage to talk about him" "or about how sweet he is"Christian added "or about how beautiful he is" Martha continued "or about-" "Yeah, ok guys" you interrupted them "I think they got it" you looked at them with both irritation and amusement. "And also it's not true" you tried defending yourself "I don't talk about him that much" They both turned to you and raised their eyebrows as if to say "really?", and you gave up. "Ok, maybe I do" you giggled. You turned to the camera "My celebrity crush is Joseph Quinn" you said half-laughing. "Do you have a boyfriend?" you read the question through your Instagram live's comments. "Do I have a boyfriend?" you smiled "Good question-" you squinted to see who had asked it "Emma". "Well, see. that depends on how you interpret the question" you joked "Mentally, as many of you may know, I've been dating Joseph Quinn for about 3 years now" you laughed softly as Martha, next to you rolled her eyes dramatically. "But if by dating you mean that the other person also knows you're dating them" you tilted your head to the side "Then I guess I'm single" "OH MY GOD" Martha shouted, clearly exasperated. "Are you serious?" she asked you, amused "Ms. "I don't talk about him that much" she mimicked you, causing you to laugh and hide your face in your hands. "No,guys," she turned to the phone"You don't know this, because the interview hasn't been posted yet but today she literally had the AUDACITY to say that she doesn't talk about him much" you snorted, still hiding. "I'm sorry" you sighed "He's just so perfect". Martha rolled her eyes and you looked up at her and pouted. "Then why don't you make a move?" she said, throwing her hands in the air as a sign of frustration. "I've told you a million times before" she took your head in her hands "DM HIM" she said, shaking your head, to try and put some sense into you, before letting go. "But-" you said with a thin voice "He's famous" you frowned. She looked at you incredulously, opening her mouth to say something and then closing it immediately again, as if she couldn't find the right words to insult you with. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath "Y/N" she said, trying to stay calm "I don't know if you've noticed" she smiled very fakely "But you're famous too" she explained with the same tone you would use for a 2-year-old. You groaned and threw yourself back on the floor you were sitting on. "Why does life have to be so difficult?" you whined. "It's not Y/N" Martha said gently "You, my friend" she booped your nose affectionately and smiled"make it a lot more complicated than it should be" "Thank you so much for coming everyone!" you shouted into the microphone as you started walking backward. The crowd started cheering and shouting, begging you to stay. You really wanted to give in, but you had already prolonged your performance and the staff was signaling you to get off the stage. "I'm sorry guys, we really have to go" you said as you heard the fans complaining and a bunch of sad nos being yelled from different areas of the arena. "You were great London!" you spoke into the mic, waving and smiling at them "Thank you so much!" you blew some kisses in all directions "This was amazing!" you waved one final time before getting off the stage. "Wow" you exhaled deeply as you got backstage. "That was crazy" Christian laughed, his eyes wide, displaying his disbelief. Martha grinned enthusiastically. "I know" you sighed, shaking your head, still incredulous. "Yeah, we were so good right?" you asked the group, looking up at them, just to realize they weren't paying attention. Their eyes were fixated on a spot behind you. “Guys?” you tried getting their attention “You were amazing” You frowned and turned behind you. Your heart stopped and your mouth involuntarily slaked open as you realized who had just talked. Joseph Quinn was standing in front of you. The real, amazingly hot, subject of your 3-year-long obsession was very much there, casually smiling at you. Oh fuck. He laughed softly at your reaction "Your friend invited me here" he said nodding towards Martha. Oh, you were so gonna kill her. "O-Oh, she did ?" you turned to her with a deadly stare and she replied with a huge smile, mouthing "you're welcome". "Well, I wish we could stay and chat, but, unfortunately, I and Christian have to go" Martha said, obviously feigning sorriness. "We do?" Christian asked confused. "Yes," Martha grabbed his arm"We do." she insisted, dragging him away. "She's-"Joseph tried to find the right words. "Yeah, she's... something" you laughed softly, as he did the same. There was an awkward moment of silence. "I saw your live yesterday" he broke the silence. You widened your eyes and swallowed thickly "Y-You did?" He chuckled "I did" You felt your cheeks turn red. "And to be honest" he winced "I also saw all of the other times you've talked about me" You were about to throw up. "Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I'm so, so sorry" you started panicky apologizing. "No no no" he laughed "You don't need to apologize" "If anything I should be" he smiled "the first time I heard you had talked about me I thought you were joking because, I mean," he gestured generally at you "you're SO out of my league" he mumbled. "But then it happened again and I wanted to text you, I really did, but then I chickened out and I kept doing so until, yesterday your friend dm'd me, and so finally" he smiled shyly "here we are". You were in shock. Your brain was buzzing and you were pretty sure your mouth was still open. "W-what?" you stuttered He chuckled and licked his lips "Would you want to get a drink with me?" he asked You blinked,incredulos. Was this a dream? "I-I-, yes!" you almost screamed. "yes, absolutely" you continued, trying to tame down your excitement. he smiled wide "Awsome!" You cleared your throat, you were still in shock "J-just give me ten minutes to change, and-and I'll be all yours" you managed to stutter out. "ok, great. I'll be waiting" he said, smiling happily. "great" you said awkwardly, starting to walk towards your dressing room. Just as you did a thought came to mind. You turned abruptly towards him and he looked confusedly at you. "Out of YOUR league?" you spat out incredulously, making him burst out laughing "Yeah" he sighed. "wow" you mumbled to yourself as you turned back "just-wow"

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #fluff #joseph quinn fic #stranger things #starnger things #stranger things x reader

[astr0exe]

; Cas ; he/it/they ; transmasc

!! I ONLY WRITE FOR MALE / TRANS MASC / GENDER NEUTRAL READER DO NOT ASK ME FOR A FEMALE READER !!

| : INBOX : ! open !

| : REQUESTS : ! open !

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MASTER LISTS !!

Welcome to the Jungle [COD]

I want to play a game [Horror]

The Grid [F1]

Mr. Blue Sky [Marvel]

Everybody gets lost at [Saltburn]

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The box of despair [WIPS]

𖦹 Bull reader [req]

𖦹 Dom!Oliver Quick X M!reader [req]

𖦹 Graves X ps!Reader [req]

𖦹 Pt.2 Puppy Soap X Bunny Reader [req]

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Playlists !!

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#masterlist #x male reader #x male y/n #cod fanfic #tlb x reader #tlb fanfic #slashers fanfiction #slashers x reader #drabbles #oneshots #stories #writing #cas speaks

[plus-size-reader]

The Perfect Plan

Bucky Barnes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3065 words

Warnings: a little bit of an angsty piece I’ve been working on in an attempt to kick writers block’s ass. (I imagine this set somewhere after civil war, I just liked the gif)

Summary: Bucky pulls his punches when sparring with the reader, which doesn’t exactly go as planned 

—————————————————————————————————

“How do you ever expect me to get better if you keep pulling your punches?”

The words left your lips as little more than a huff as you pulled away from Bucky, that accusatory glare of yours burning into his skin.

Clearly, something was going on.

The two of you had been sparing since before the sun came up and even still, nothing had changed.

You both knew that he could easily knock you from your feet, a million times over if he wanted to, but for whatever reason, he hadn’t. He had hardly landed a single swing, and that told you one very important thing.

He was holding back.

You could feel it.

Normally when you two were sparring, trading shots and doing everything you could to get better, he gave you just about everything he had.

That was the deal.

In order for you to gain the skills necessary to be of any help to him and the rest of the team, Bucky knew that you’d have to take on people that meant you real harm. They weren’t going to look out for your safety.

They weren’t going to be careful not to hit you too hard.

That was just something that you were both going to have to deal with, whether Bucky liked it or not.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make training you any easier for the man in question. There were too many moving parts and too many things that could go wrong, especially with him.

It was complicated, Bucky was complicated, and you just didn’t seem to grasp the gravity of it all.

That, or you didn’t care, and neither of those options brought him any comfort.

“I’m not” he tried, stepping  back from you again, dropping both arms at his sides, the tone of his voice not even enough to convince him.

It wasn’t entirely his fault.

Bucky just didn’t want to hurt you, even if he knew it was all for the greater good and frankly, that didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

He wasn’t supposed to want to hurt you, but there was no other way.

You had told him that a million times.

Dating The Winter Soldier, as you’d chosen to do, came with risks and since you weren’t about to leave the man you loved no matter the danger, the only other way to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed would be if he helped you.

Helped you prepare and helped you learn to take care of yourself, even when he wasn’t around.

Besides, you had already proven to him that you could handle yourself, and you trusted Bucky. That was why you’d asked him to help you with this in the first place.

“No? Then why haven’t you hit me once?” you questioned, your hands falling on your hips as you surveyed him, clearly waiting for some kind of reason for his actions other than the one you both knew was the truth.

There was silence between you for a moment, a silence that filled the usually packed training room, and knocked Bucky further out of his depth.

Anything he came up with would be too clearly an excuse.

Not that saying nothing at all was much better.

“Maybe you’re just better than you’re giving yourself credit for” he eventually tried, admiring the near look of disdain on your face as you processed his answer.

It was a lie.

A piss-poor excuse for something you should have seen coming before you even agreed to any of this. Bucky loved you, and because he loved you, it was hard for him to do this for you. It was hard for him to set his mind aside, for even a moment.

It was too dangerous, even if you didn’t believe it.

“Maybe” you grumbled, shaking your hands out at your sides for a moment, forcing your attention away from the handsome face of the man you loved.

Who, in this moment, was driving you insane.

“Or, and this is just a theory, you don’t actually want me to get better” you countered, wiping a small bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky may not have been trying to accomplish anything today, but you had been giving this everything you had.

Since sun up.

Your tone once again caught Bucky off guard. You were angry, evidently, because he had made the executive decision not to use his years of experience in this area to knock you on your ass.

It didn’t make any sense.

Still, he couldn’t just let you think that he would deliberately throw your training because of something so stupid. He was under no illusions of what you were capable of, and was sure that in time, you’d be a force all your own.

It was just going to be hard for him to get you there, all alone.

“Of course I want you to get better. I just don’t want to hurt you” Bucky shrugged, actually forcing a laugh from your lungs.

On any other day, you would have understood but today, it was a problem. It was a problem because this wasn’t part of your deal.

He was supposed to be helping you.

He had agreed to help you, and if he wasn’t able to, that was fine, but he definitely should have brought it up before now.

“You agreed to help me do this” you reminded, more for yourself than him as you tried to figure this out. There had to be some kind of strategy, something you could do that would make him take this seriously.

All you had to do was take a different approach.

“What did you think we’d be doing? Holding hands? Baking cookies?” you taunted, loosely wrapping and unwrapping your hand as you spoke, just as Steve taught you to do, not even bothering to look Buck in the eye.

You loved him.

You understood that he was actively terrified of the hell that lived in his mind, constantly painting the space behind his eyes with horror, but that was exactly why he had to be the one to do this for you.

If you found yourself in danger, it would likely be due to your connection to him but even if it wasn’t, there was always the slim, albeit entirely possible, chance that it would be at his own hand.

When Bucky was out of control, when the Winter Soldier took over, there was no telling what he was capable of. You had seen it with your own two eyes, and if he even became that again, you had to be able to do something.

Even if all you could actually do was keep him from killing you.

So, with that in mind and no real idea what you were planning on doing, or what difference it would make, you swung your weight in his direction again, putting everything you had into a punch that you landed without fail in the center of his chest.

Though, again, Bucky did nothing to retaliate.

He didn’t make a move to strike, to move or even to speak. All he did was look at you, the hint of a smirk threatening to betray him the longer you put this on.

Not that he needed to be reminded, but you never ceased to amaze him with how determined you could be.

“I am helping you get better, your form is incredible” Bucky reasoned, enjoying the way your face scrunched up in annoyance as he further dug himself into whatever hole he’d been digging, his eyes scanning over you as you stood in front of him.

He was playing with you, of course.

In the beginning, it had been a real offer and it still was, in part.

If you were going to be out there with them, in the heat of combat, you needed to be prepared and he was the perfect person to make sure you were. It wasn’t his fault that watching you get flustered was a hell of a lot more fun than beating you up over and over.

The latter just wasn’t something he was willing to do, even if it was perhaps the best way for you to learn.

“Really? Because when you train with Nat, she leaves with bruises” you finally spit, choosing to ignore the clear irony of actively asking the man you loved to beat you up.

It was true.

Natasha and Bucky had regular appointments together, just like this one, except when she asked him to, he landed his hits…every time.

The reality was that the enemy, and whatever was out there,  wouldn’t go easy on you.

You had to learn to take a punch, and to land quite a few of your own in return, two things you couldn’t do without Bucky’s help.

Help that he just wasn’t giving.

“Now hold on, that isn’t fair” your partner sighed, but you didn’t give him the time to come up with some half-baked reason this time.

You weren’t some porcelain doll, constantly on the edge of shattering. You were a part of this team just like he was, and all you needed was a little help to get on the same level.

Of all people, you could have thought he’d understand that.

“Isn’t it? What’s the difference between her and me?” you kept going, your right hand falling square in the center of his chest, hard enough for that little voice in the back of your head to question if you should stop.

Not that you were going to.

This was important to you, even if it didn’t matter to him.

“Nat could handle it” he yelled back, the implication there more than enough to spur on the heat beneath your skin all over again, his hand gingerly capturing you at the wrist.

So that was what this was about.

He didn’t think you could do this, no matter how many times he assured you that you could before now.

As much as this was about Bucky being scared of his past, and the things he couldn’t control, it obviously has something to do with his opinion of you as well. Clearly, he thought that you were weak or pathetic, neither of which you were just going to accept.

It wasn’t in your nature.

“I don’t know why I thought you could help me with this. I should have asked Steve” you scoffed back, watching as his face twitched now, telling you that you’d plucked a nerve there, without even meaning to.

Good.

As much as Bucky meant to you, this wasn’t about your relationship. This wasn’t about love, and it wasn't about protecting you.

This was about you being able to protect yourself, and it was important.

“You think I’m going easy on you? Steve wouldn’t have even shown up for something like this” the raven-haired male decided, admiring you with a smug smirk.

He had you there.

Steve only really spared solo, having told you several times that he preferred to save the fighting for the real enemy. You doubted any amount of begging would get you the result you wanted, and then you’d be back here.

Dealing with Bucky, in all his brooding.

You had never known someone to be so damn stubborn, though Bucky would argue that could be rectified by looking in a mirror.

“Well, there’s gotta be somebody in this place who doesn’t think I’m weak” you prodded, your pointer finger finding purchase in the tense muscle of his pectoral.

Just to further prove your point.

“Now come on, you know that’s not what I meant. It’s just that you’re just starting, and I don’t want to push you too hard” he tried, finally backing down as much as he was willing to, when he saw the smallest twinkle of real hurt in your eyes.

This wasn’t just you getting frustrated, or trying to goad him into a fight.

You genuinely believed he thought you were weak, and that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

He was just scared of bringing you into this, and while that wasn’t what you’d come here for, it was easier to get a rise out of you than admitting that.

“Because you think I’ll break” you inferred, taking him that step further, earning a groan from his lips, that familiar crease in his brown ridge making another appearance.

This whole thing had been fun for him, as long as he was pulling the strings but it wasn’t nearly as entertaining to have to take what he’d gotten really good at dishing out.

“Because if you do, I don’t want to be the one responsible”

It was his worst nightmare.

One that he’d had to live over and over again, all those memories, flashes of faces now replaced in his sleep with your own. Bucky wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything ever happened to you at his hand.

He just wouldn't.

It was one thing for you to want to join the fight, but it was another one entirely for him to be the one on the other side of it.

There was silence between you for a long moment as you considered his words, and the sheer weight of them as they left his lips and met your ears.

You wanted to disagree with him, to keep pushing the envelope and argue that that was nothing more than an excuse, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t. Bucky wasn't the kind to make empty promises or weak excuses for his actions.

He never had been.

So, as much as you hated to, you nodded, letting the tense muscles in your jaw relax as you tried to decide where to go from here.

If Buck wasn’t comfortable with it, you’d have to find someone who was, which proved to be a rather daunting task given the rooster. Still, you didn’t want to push him too far, especially if this would put the man you loved in a bad place.

That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Okay, I’ll just ask around. I’m sure someone else will help me” you shrugged, forcing a gentle smile to your face in an effort to mask the disappointment swelling in the pit of your stomach.

It wasn’t his fault.

Bucky was who he was, and he couldn’t be blamed for being afraid of what he was capable of. Maybe you could try again later, after you got a little more confident in your own abilities in combat.

After you knew what you were doing.

“I don’t want you to do that. I can do this, I just want to be careful” came Bucky’s inevitable reply as he did a fair amount of his own thinking. It had been a while since he’d been out of control, albeit not as long as he’d have liked, and it should be fine.

He just didn’t like having to rely on things probably being okay.

“I should have mentioned it earlier, I really thought I could handle it, but once I got here, it just felt different” he continued, absently taking your hand in his own as he spoke, his fingers playing at the cloth dressing your knuckles.

Hand to hand just never felt quite right to him anymore, even when it was just sparring. He always felt like he was one step away from disaster, one step away from losing what little bit of him was still him, in the first place.

“I get it” you allowed, giving his right hand a reassuring squeeze, further driving home that you weren’t upset with him, and that you didn’t blame him for trying to protect you.

You loved him, and this wasn’t going to change that.

Nothing was ever going to change that.

The two of you always made things work, and even if you didn’t do things the traditional way, you got things done your way.

…and this was no different.

Just because Bucky wasn’t comfortable physically training with you yet didn’t mean that he couldn’t help you. It just meant that you had to think about it differently, and make it work for you.

“How about we try something different? You said my form is good but I could still use help with the logistics” you explained, watching as Bucky’s face changed from one of guilt to one of subtle concentration, as he followed your words.

Of course, you hadn’t gotten to the point yet but it didn’t matter.

If there was anything he could do to help you, he’d do it, so long as he was sure he could do it while also keeping you safe.

“Yeah, your stance is solid” Bucky repeated, allowing you to lead him over to the other side of the gym like a puppy after its master, ever willing to do whatever it took to please you.

Clearly, the gears were turning in your head, all he had to do was listen.

“Thanks, but what I still need help with is all the other stuff. How much force do I put behind a punch? How do I maintain my own balance while trying to get the upper hand, especially against someone stronger or more skilled than me?” you hummed, only stopping your task once you reached your destination.

The Punching bag.

If you couldn’t actively train opposite Bucky, the next best thing would have to do. In this case, the next best thing would be sparing against the punching bag in front of you, under the watchful eye and expert guidance of your lover.

Who, based on the look that was developing on his handsome face, just realized where you were going with this.

How had he missed this?

It had been staring you both in the face this entire time, just like Steve’s refusal to fight unless he was in the face of danger, all Bucky had to do was keep his distance til he was ready.

It was the perfect plan.

You could develop your skill, and he could still help you, maintaining a comfortable distance until he was sure he could handle it.

“I’ll teach you everything and then, when we’re both ready, I’ll show you” You had never known someone to be so damn stubborn, though Bucky would argue that could be rectified by looking in a mirror.

#bucky barnes #bucky #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x ps reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x ps reader #bucky x plus size reader #bucky imagine #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x ps reader #the winter soldier x plus size reader #the winter soldier imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x ps reader #marvel x plus size reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x plus size reader #avengers x ps reader #avengers #avengers imagine

[becca-e-barnes]

do you have any pornstar dbf!bucky thots👀

The Video

I've had this thought in my head all damn day and I just needed to write it. I'll link this piece on both my Dad's Best Friend!Bucky master list and the Pornstar!Bucky master list because I don't want to choose.

Consider this the piece I wrote to celebrate my birthday today 💗 here’s to 23 with you lovely folks! 🥂

Pairing: Pornstar! Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You find out what your father’s best friend does for work.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in her mid 20’s, Bucky is in his late 40’s), vaginal fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, praise kink, mentions of rough pornography, dirty talk, pet names, degradation

Minors, do not interact

Avoiding Bucky had never been your plan, purely because it would’ve been a fucking stupid one.  Realistically, it wouldn’t have been easy to avoid someone who probably spent more time at your house than they did their own.  When he wasn’t at ‘work’, your father’s friend seemed to spend his time at your house, mowing the lawn or polishing your mom’s car or watching some pointless sports game with your dad.

You’d never really questioned what Bucky got up to for work.  You imagined growing up that he must’ve practiced a trade since he was always the one your father called to fix the kitchen sink when it sprung a leak or tinker with the garage door when it became difficult to pull down.

Now that you were fully clued in however, it all made painful sense why Bucky had been so evasive when you had come right out and asked him what he did for work the year before you graduated from college.

“What do you think I do, sweetheart?”  He had asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his soft, pink lips.

“I have no idea, Buck!  You seem to have as much free time as you like, I just don’t understand how you pay the bills.”  You had mused, sitting in your own garage on a work bench, swinging your legs in front of you, secretly hoping that Bucky would notice just how cute and tiny those shorts you were wearing are.  Unfortunately for you, he didn’t look up from under the bonnet of your dad’s jeep.

“I guess you could say I’m self-employed, angel.  I pick and choose the jobs I want.  I have plenty of offers.”  He tried to keep it as non-descript as possible, dodging the question rather than lying about it.

“I bet you do, you seem good with your hands.”  He could tell by the genuine innocence in your voice that you truly had no idea.  You weren’t leading him to answer one way or another.

He huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the rag beside him, wiping the oil from his hands, muddying the white cloth with the dark residue.  “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.”

It all made perfect sense now though, scrolling through picture after picture on your phone.  Every drag of your fingertip brought a fresh wave of video thumbnails, each somehow more obscene than the last.  The titles certainly weren’t much better.  

Pictures of beautiful young women flooded your screen.  Some had their makeup thoroughly ruined, mascara tracked down their cheeks and a fucked-out look in their eyes.  Some were on their knees, their hair grabbed into a rough ponytail while they rested the tip of a cock on their tongue.  Some were bent over, evidently ‘trapped’ under their bed with their ass in the air. 

Curiosity got the better of you, after ignoring a warning from your brain that this might be an invasion of Bucky’s privacy.  It was all posted on the internet after all, it’s not like he could keep it a secret forever.  

One video caught your eye, titled ‘James Barnes fucks tight brunette, HUGE cumshot’.  The crude objectification made you wince a little but the short snippet of video that the thumbnail provided you with seemed a little bit gentler than the rest.

Skipping the first few minutes helped you feel like you weren’t too invested.  This was research.  Plain and simple nosiness.  You had no intention of watching this for any purpose other than to see whether Bucky Barnes had perfected his craft or not.

“Shit, that’s it.  So fuckin’ pretty like this.”  The voice from your phone was familiar but so much lower than you’d ever heard it before; so deep, you could only have described it as a growl.

The girl whimpered, almost pathetically.  You couldn’t blame her.  Bucky wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination and judging by the reaction of the woman he was buried inside, he managed to hit all the spots he needed to.

You’d heard fake moans before.  Hell, you’d made plenty of them yourself.  Enough to know that the woman you were watching wasn’t orchestrating hers for the benefit of the camera.  No, those were real.  Right down to the trembling thighs either side of Bucky’s narrow hips.

“You have no idea how perfect you feel.  Tight and wet and warm.  You take me so fuckin’ well.”  You watched as he slid inside her, painfully slowly.  Admittedly, her body did take him well, letting him sink in until he had nothing left to give.  This poor woman was already looking somewhat blissed out, begging him to fuck her but that’s when you skipped forward to about a minute before the end.  That same woman was now clawing at his muscular back, whimpering and sobbing delightfully while Bucky pounded into her.  He wasn’t holding back in the slightest, letting the same filth tumble from his lips.

“Oh baby, you sound like you can’t take any more.  Are you done?”  He was so condescending, it made your gut tighten with lust, a dull throb settling between your legs but the woman only shook her head.

“Good girl.  God, ’m so close.  You’ll never get enough, will you?  Just a needy fucking slut for me.  Gonna have you all cock obsessed.  Bet you’ll think of me every time you touch that pretty pussy of yours from now on.  You’ll be begging to see me again.”  Bucky sounded wrecked, finishing his sentence with a drawn out, low groan.  Within a couple of seconds, he had pulled out, splashing his seed all over the woman’s tummy, pearlescent spend rolling down her sides and onto the sheets while some pooled on her heaving chest.

Over the next few days, you tried desperately to get what you had seen out of your head.  You tried hard, you really did.  Perhaps it didn’t help that late at night, you found yourself going back to watch more.  Perhaps it also didn’t help that you found your hand drifting under your panties as you watched, taking care of that familiar throb that seemed to turn into an ache when you watched for too long without touching yourself.

Dodging Bucky was simple enough but you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever.  Hiding in your room couldn’t become a hobby just because you found out your father’s best friend, the older man you had been so innocently crushing on, was a porn star.

The first time you bumped into him though, it was game over.  He could tell just from the way you looked at him that something was up, or rather, the way you couldn’t look at him.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”  He asked, watching you make yourself look busy in the cereal cupboard late one afternoon after he had walked into your kitchen.  You saw him coming and very obviously tried find any excuse that meant you wouldn’t have to talk to him.

“I’m fine, looking for cereal.”  You replied, your head almost buried in the cupboard.

“Well, I hope you find it.  If you can’t see it from there, you’ve got a problem.  I bet your nose is practically touching the box, you’re so deep in there.”  He sounded too damn amused and it only made you more embarrassed.  This really was the last thing you needed.  “Why are you avoiding me, honey?”

There it was.  You were called out.

“I’m not!”  You tried to sound sincere but you weren’t awfully successful; you knew even as you were saying the words that it wasn’t going to fly.

“Mhm, and the fact you saw me coming has nothing to do with how you’re buried shoulder deep in the cereal cupboard?  Don’t think I’m stupid.  I know you’re avoiding me.”  In hindsight, you maybe could’ve handled that a little bit better but now here you were, pulling yourself back out and forcing some painfully awkward eye contact.

“I’ve seen the videos.”  You mumbled, looking away and making yourself busy with your nails.

“Okay.”  He dragged the word out a little, slowing it down and only adding to it’s gravity.  “And?  You’re an adult.  You know what porn is.  Things don’t need to be weird but if you’re uncomfortable having me around, I can leave you alone.”

“No, you don’t have to, I don’t have a problem with it.  It’s all just very… Rough?”  You weren’t really sure this was a conversation you wanted to be having, shame burning in the pit of your stomach because clearly you’d just admitted to watching more than a video or two.

He paused for a second, nodding his head, the couple of light grey hairs at the crown of his head glinting in the light.  “You’re right, sweetheart.  It's a little rough at times.  That’s not my preference, that’s the script I’m given.”

That made sense and somehow settled you just a little.  “So you just stick to the script?”  You quiz, holding eye contact with him again for a few seconds before it got too intense.

“For the most part.  It doesn’t tell me what to say, that’s all up to me.  It just gives me direction.  It’s a running order of the scenes we’ve agreed to shoot.  Most of those videos certainly aren’t a representation of how I would want to fuck if I got the choice.”  His lips were curled in a soft smile, watching you lap this all up.

“A-and how would you want to fuck if you got to choose?”  You couldn’t quite believe you’d said it but apparently you did because the question hung in the air longer than you might have wanted it to.

“Well sweetheart, that depends.  I’d treat a pretty little thing like you a bit differently.  I’d have to be slow with you.  Really ease you into it.  I bet I’d have to spend a lot of time working you up to take me.  I think I’d start by giving you my tongue until I can slip a finger into you.  Then a second finger.  Maybe a third if I think you can manage it.”  He could see the effect this was having on you.  You’d wanted to imagine it while you’d watched his videos but you couldn’t bring yourself to fall into the fantasy.  Now he was dragging you into it.

“Then I’d put you on your hands and knees.  I’d tell you to rub yourself while I press inside you, so slow you’ll be begging me to give you all of me.  And when you’re at that point, ruined and desperate for more, I’ll fuck you nice and slow.  I’ll have you just as addicted as those other girls but with a kinder pleasure.  I’d tell you how beautiful you are and how badly I’ve wanted to kiss every inch of your skin I can.  I’d tell you how gorgeous you look when you cum and how it’s better than I ever imagined.”

God, this was something close to a dream come true.  “I-I’d like that.  That sounds… Nice.”  Words were really failing you, hoping this was a genuine offer and not just some hypothetical situation that would never play out.

“It does sound nice.”  Bucky huffed out a laugh.  “It sounds real fucking nice.  I shouldn’t want my best friend’s daughter cumming around me.  I know I shouldn’t.  I know I think about it far too often but nothing gets me off the way you do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, an embarrassing arousal throbbing its way around your body, settling in the pit of your stomach.  Heat blossomed in your chest, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t some sick joke.  

“I want that.  But I don’t want you to be too gentle.  I want you to fuck me the way you want to fuck.  Not what you think I need.”  Your confidence almost caught him off guard and he didn’t expect to find it as sexy as he did.

“God, you’re a tease.”  He muttered under his breath, crossing the short space between you both to crash your lips against his.  You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the difference in size almost making you shudder because you’d never felt this small against a partner.

His lips were soft, his hands wandering seemingly everywhere at once and it was so much to take in.  Fuck, it was perfect.  Intense and hungry but not overwhelming.

“Bed, Buck.”  You pant between fervent kisses before he’s grabbed you by the back of the thighs, helping you wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you to your room. 

You both had your clothes stripped off in a frenzy, not giving much thought to anything other than the way your lips slotted together.  Your bottom lip felt perfectly at home between his teeth, the slight pain of his bite only making you moan.

“You’re such a good girl.”  He whispers, tugging your panties off and groaning when he realises how slick they are already.  “Fuck, I should’ve known how bad you’d need this.  It’s always the ones you least expect.”

His breath feels so hot on your neck, littering the skin with kisses and gentle nibbles, panting tiny groans against you while his fingers slide over your core.

You’re wet and messy, aching with a need you didn’t know you were capable of.  “Oh sweetheart, I could slip right into you.  You’re soaking wet for me.  God, you’re a dream.”

“Buck, please.  I want your tongue later.  P-please just fuck me first.”  You could hardly manage a conhesive thought with the way his fingertips played with your body ever so gently, alternating between rubbing little circles on your clit and teasing your hole with the tips of two fingers, pressing them in just to the first knuckle.

“This is wrong, sweetheart.  So fucking wrong.  I shouldn’t get this fuckin’ excited hearing you beg for my dick but it’s all I’ve wanted for months.”  His voice is just as low as you heard in those videos, dripping with arousal.

“The only thing ‘wrong’ here is the fact you’re not inside me yet.”  You giggle quietly, rolling over and presenting your ass to him, exactly how he had described earlier.  

Whatever self-control he had was gone.  Long gone.  The sight of you offering your slick, hot core was more than enough to ruin him but the way you watched him over your shoulder with an excited smile almost had him trembling with need.

“This is wrong.”  He whispered, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance, grunting at the feeling of the wet heat.

“So wrong.”  You repeated quietly.  “S-so fucking wrong.  We shouldn’t be doing this.”  You were breathless already, pressing yourself back until his tip had just slipped inside you.  “We shouldn’t need this as badly as we do.”

Bucky’s groan was beautiful, watching as you shifted yourself back to allow the rest of his length to slide slowly into you.

“You know damn well what you’re doing to me.”  He sighed, looking away from the sight of his thick length gliding home.  “Play with yourself.  I won’t last long this time sweetheart but trust me, I’ve got all night with you.”  

You’d never seen him this wrecked so early on in any of his videos so you did as you were told, letting two fingers circle your clit the way you often did when you watched him slide into those other women.  

You heard him take a deep breath, pulling back out as far as possible without slipping out before pressing back in again, dragging a soft groan from both of you.  This was everything you’d both longed for and more.

His huge hands squeezed the cheeks of your ass, admiring the how soft and plush it felt under his touch, dragging himself back out only to press back in, earning another groan.

You could’ve taken this forever, enjoying the way his tip nudged that delicate spot inside you while your fingers worked exactly how you like them to.  This was bliss in its truest form.  This was the passion you had craved, the gentle touches and soft praises but accompanied by an all-consuming pleasure.

“Faster Bucky, please.”  You whined and hell, you looked like a goddess, fallen forward onto the bed, so consumed by sensations that you wanted to have no control over and he could recognise that so clearly.

“Tell me you need me.”  He panted, speeding up his thrusts, letting each one land beautifully before forcing himself momentarily from the heat of your body once more.

“Oh God, I need you.  I need you, Bucky.  I need you to fuck me faster.  Fuck me harder.  It feels so good.  I’m gonna cum for you, I just need more.”  You couldn’t help but sob, drowning in the litany of groans and curses falling from the older man lips.

Your fingers worked faster, in time with the thrusts you were receiving until it all come crumbling down around you.  The knot in your tummy tightened unbearably, your heart pounding as the sensation took over entirely.  It was a perfect release, your body clenching and tightening rhythmically while you sobbed the ecstasy into the pillow under your head.

“Oh good girl, that’s it.  Cum nice ‘n hard.  O-oh God.”  You vaguely registered Bucky coaching you through your orgasm before reaching his own but unlike any of his videos, he didn’t pull out.  He stayed buried inside you, pressed as deep as he could go.  You felt the weight of his seed inside you, the position allowing it to drip deeper, pooling at your cervix and the thought alone made you shudder.

“My God, that was…. Wow.”  He laughed, kissing down your spine before pulling out and flopping onto the bed beside you.  

“Yeah… Wow.”  You giggled, kissing his cheek and curling up against him, not really worried that you were both a little sweaty.  

“I meant it though.  I’ll be gentle with you later.  I’ll take my time with you.  I just needed that.”  He kissed your forehead, running a hand down your back and damn, he certainly wouldn’t hear you complaining.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #dad’s best friend! Bucky #dbf!bucky #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #ps!bucky #ps!dbf!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel writer #asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #bucky smut #Bucky imagine #Bucky x reader smut #I just love the thought of them playing up on how wrong it is? idk #I find it really hot for some reason #just the temptation and the need and thought of them throwing all rational thought out the window because they NEED thia

[1348ts]

Hearts of steel and ice

Bucky Barnes x reader with superpowers

Bucky is head over heels in love and Tony is playing matchmaker

Words: 596

(Ps: this is my first time writing)

The Avengers Tower buzzed with activity as the team prepared for a new mission. Bucky Barnes stood in the common area, his eyes fixed on the holographic display showing the latest intel. His thoughts, however, were far from the mission at hand. There were whispers of a new recruit, someone with powers akin to Elsa from the old fairytales.

As if on cue, the doors slid open, revealing you, the new recruit, with an air of confidence that belied the icy powers you possessed. A trail of frost sparkled in your wake, leaving a mesmerizing path in your wake.

Bucky's breath hitched as he watched you, his heart pounding in his chest. He had seen many extraordinary things in his time, but you were something else entirely. His nerves fluttered like a moth drawn to a flame, but he couldn't find the words to speak.

You approached the team, a friendly smile gracing your face. "Hey, everyone. I'm the new kid on the block, ready to freeze anything that needs freezing."

The team greeted you warmly, introducing themselves one by one. Bucky's gaze never wavered from you, and he couldn't help but marvel at the way your powers seemed to dance around you, a testament to your control.

Over the next few days, the team went about their missions, and you seamlessly integrated into the Avengers' dynamic. Each time Bucky saw you in action, his admiration for you grew. Your confidence, your compassion, and the way you wielded your powers with grace and precision—it left him in awe.

But as the days passed, Bucky couldn't shake the nerves that gripped him whenever he was near you. He longed to speak to you, to let you know how he felt, but fear held him back. He was a soldier, used to facing danger head-on, but when it came to matters of the heart, he felt like a novice.

The rest of the team noticed the way Bucky's eyes followed you, how he seemed to light up whenever you entered the room. They exchanged knowing glances, their silent encouragement urging Bucky to take the leap.

One evening, as the team gathered for a casual meal, Tony Stark couldn't resist playing matchmaker. "So, Y/N, what do you think of our dear old Bucky here?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You looked at Bucky, a smile playing on your lips. "Bucky? He's... amazing. I mean, the way he fights, it's like he's poetry in motion."

Bucky's heart soared at your words, his confidence bolstered by your praise.

Tony leaned in closer, a smirk on his face. "And what if I told you he thinks the same about you?"

Bucky's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and hope washing over him. The team exchanged triumphant glances, silently celebrating their success in nudging Bucky towards you.

In that moment, as the laughter and camaraderie filled the room, Bucky found his courage. He stood, crossing the distance between you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Y/N," he began, his voice steady, "I've been wanting to say... you're incredible. Your powers, yes, but also you. The way you carry yourself, the kindness you show to everyone... it's inspiring. I... I'd like to get to know you better, if you'd let me."

You met his gaze, your eyes sparkling with warmth. "Bucky, I'd love that."

And as the rest of the team discreetly cheered on their newfound connection, Bucky and you embarked on a journey, their hearts intertwined, discovering a love that was as powerful and beautiful as your icy powers.

#avengers x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #tony stark #steve rogers #the winter soldier #winter soldier

[viennafantasies]

𝜗𝜚- Character's I write for

Outer Banks: jj maybank, rafe cameron, john b routledge

The Vampire Diaries: damon salvatore, stefan salvatore, klaus mikaelson, kai parker, kol mikaelson, elijah mikaelson, jeremy gilbert, enzo st john

Pretty Little Liars: toby cavanaugh, caleb rivers, Jason dilaurentis

Glee: santana lopez & sam evans

Once Upon A Time: killian jones & peter pan

Brooklyn Nine Nine: jake peralta

Gossip Girl: chuck bass & nate archibald (for now)

Riverdale: archie andrews & jughead jones

The Office: luke cooper & jim halpert

Stranger Things: steve harrington & billy hargrove

Cobra Kai: miguel diaz, robbie keene & hawk aka: eli horowitz

The X Files: fox mulder

American Horror Story: tate langdon, kit walker, kyle spencer

Pen15: dustin long, brandt

Outnumbered: jake

Marvel: loki laufeyson, steve rogers, bucky barnes, peter parker

DC: bruce wayne, clark kent, dick grayson, joker

Hunger Games: finnick odair & peter malarky, ps. I haven't done cornelius bc I haven't watched the new movie :)

Harry Potter: ron weasley, draco malfoy, blaise zabini, mattheo riddle, tom riddle, lorenzo berkshire, theodore nott, lucian bole, james potter, sirius black, remus lupin, regulus black

Note: Let me know if you want any poly, my requests will be open by tomorrow. You can request whatever you want but it has to be x reader. I don't mind writing anything but be careful with warnings. I hope you have a great day!! mwah :) ps. tell me if you want fluff, smut or angst. I don't know how to do smut that well but I will try!

cba to do tags

still did it ...

#marauders x reader #harry potter x reader #hunger games x reader #glee x reader #dc x reader #marvel x reader #outnumbered x reader #pen15 x reader #ahs x reader #the x files x reader #cobra kai x reader #stranger things x reader #the office x reader #riverdale x reader #gossip girl x reader #brooklyn nine nine x reader #ouat x reader #pll x reader #tvd x reader #obx x reader

[polydeuces]

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 : alex turner x fem! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : y/n is a famous actress dating a famous singer, alex turner. with their busy and conflicting schedules it’s hard to find time to spend together - yet they somehow always make time.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 anon x

— requests are open !

liked by taylorswift, matthelders, and 2,953,924 others

iamy/n: It’s me, hi, i’m the problem it’s me.. and my best friend! A film I had the pleasure of working on.. is out now!! Please watch it!! To celebrate such a beautiful moment (tay’s new song is in the film!! 😱) we exchanged the best of gifts and had a marvelous time ruining everything. ps. this was also a late bday party 🎉

View all 83,929 comments

y/ntaylorsversion: sleeping on the highway tonight

matthelders: two legends in Hollywood

blakelively: sooo fairytale-esque!

honeymoon: watching it as I’m typing this 💫

alexandy/n: jaw: on the floor

jackantonoff: my partner is on this app, please!

gigihadid: happy late late birthday my queen

oliviarodrigo: omg my parents omg congratulations!! 💜🤍

myleshendrik: you better go to a party soon so we can take cools pics together (aka I miss you)

liked by heisrema, simihaze, mileskane, and 2,758,968 others

iamnoty/n: booked & busy since ‘97. rundown of the month!

i had the pleasure of annoying the guys during their magazine shoot (they really said: 🧍🏻🧍🏻🧍🏻🧍🏻) anyway, they got revenge a few weeks later by showing up on set of my upcoming film!! it was all fun and games until they took the snacks from my trailer. 

although al and i have pretty busy schedules, we still make time for one another! a recent example would be about a week or two ago, we went to dinner and when my feet started to hurt from my heels.. he took them and held them until i could put them away. don’t worry, I wasn’t walking barefoot, I had an extra pair of comfy shoes. he’s a real gentleman, with a bit of sas mixed in.. my perfect match!! 

comments were limited on this post 

littleamandablank: I love you so much can’t wait to see you tonight and jump around and maybe cry 💋

ilovealex: She said “karma is my boyfriend” 

matthelders: Sweets for the win. Had to get you back for mimicking our poses! 💙

babygirlalex: Y/n please tell me you take bereals of our man PLEASE GIRL PLEASE 

iamy/n: haha! i do, i do. he kinda gets it now but at first i made him take the picture without telling him how it worked. babe.  when i tell you it looked like an old man’s Facebook profile picture. it was not great but it was soo funny!! 😭😭

mileskane: so you can pick up the phone when it’s 1997 but not now? I see how it is

iamy/n: oh my god shut up lmao i’ll call you back in a minute!! be patient !! 🙄

#alex turner #x reader #alex turner x famous reader #alex turner x reader #y/n insert #y/n instagram #fake instagram #social media au #famous reader #y/n smau #celebrityinstagram #saturns masterpiece #social media #social media x reader #social media edit #fake instagram Alex turner #selena gomez icons #Selena Gomez faceclaim #original work

[revasserium]

Hiii!! Your "The Trick and The Trade" fic featuring Azul was so beautiful it makes me want to cry T.T I saw requests were open? Wondering if I could ask for another Azul x Reader with the prompt "Shooting Star" this time?

PS: If it's alright with you, can we make this fluffy? Hehehe

Thank youuuuu!! ✨❤️

request are open! pls send one in :)

70. shooting star

azul ashengrotto; 1,788 words, fluff; gn!reader; a human and a mer-person fall in love -- it's a tale as old as time

"we are not figuratively, but literally made of stardust." - neil degrasse tyson

he has known since the day he was born the shape of the water around him, the shade of the sea, the taste of an ocean as it rests at the tip of his tongue. it has always been blue and blue and blue, and deep and deep and deep. salt and brine and sand like the forgotten dust of long-gone stars.

the first time he stumbles across the shipwreck, moored at the bottom of his deep, blue, saltine ocean, he lingers over the glittering metal, runs his fingers across the broken mast, marvels at the rust that shatters like snowflakes beneath his touch. he twists and tugs at the ruined sails till his curiosity sits sated in the pit of his stomach.

he meets you in a forgotten grotto, at the end of a stretch of forgotten beach, nestled against an island that, while has not yet been forgotten, seems to be well on it’s way as well. he finds you lying limp, your body half submerged in the shallows.

ah, a shipwreck, he thinks. and then, oh… a survivor.

then, you cough, you sputter, you hack up what he’s sure is a quarter of the ocean before shaking your head and pushing yourself up and he is still there, his body a livewire mess of tangled tentacles. he presses himself into a shape that you’re more familiar with, the lessening of his eight limbs down to just two is always strange but… necessary.

at least for first impressions. and they’re ever so important.

“h-hello.”

he nearly swears at himself for being so hesitant.

you swipe the back of your hand over your lips, blinking blearily at him through salt-caked lashes.

“y-you… i — where…?”

you’re disoriented, but of course you are. azul clears his throat and tries again.

“i — i’m glad you’re alright. you were… i found you passed out and… and thought to come and check on you.” good, he thinks, that sounded good. convincing.

you regard him with a curious look before your eyes rove over the rest of him and… a grin twists your lips.

“you… missed a spot.”

azul whips around to find a single tentacle, still trailing in the sand behind him, the crystalline water lapping at his smooth, rubbery skin.

“damnit! i thought i’d gotten them all this time — !”

but the sound of your laughter shatters his frustration, his embarrassment. it renders him speechless and holds him still. for a moment, he is taken by it, the warmth and fullness of the sound as you collapse into your own laughter, falling back against the soft, wet sand, your sea-pruned hands clutching at your stomach.

“i — it’s not — i just — !” azul stutters, heat clawing up his neck and cheeks as he forcibly finishes his transformation, wiping his hands absently down his back to make doubly sure, but you only smile, dabbing at the edge of your eyes as your laughter fades into giggles.

“s-sorry — i didn’t mean to — i just… you did a very good job,” but something in your voice still makes his stomach twist and azul has to take three deep breaths to stave off the very real urge to dive back into the water, to disappear back into the comforting depths of the ocean and never return.

“i — it’s harder than it looks,” he says, stiffly.

you nod, all solemn seriousness now, though there’s still a twinkle in each of your eyes that so, so reminds him of the evening stars.

this is how you meet. and this, he thinks, is how he falls in love.

you’re the child of sailors, adventurers, people who have always lived their lives on the sea. and azul is nothing if not hungry for knowledge. the pair of you trade stories like secrets and laughter like currency.

you tell him of all the places you been, all the miracles you’ve seen. and in turn, he tells you of the creatures of deep, all the monsters and their dreams.

the first time he kisses you, he catches both of you off guard.

“oh — s-sorry —” he says, but his next words are cut off as you jerk him back towards you, your teeth clacking painfully against his, but he doesn’t care. he wouldn’t have cared if you’d made him bleed. he would’ve wanted it, leaned in like he is now, tugging you closer just to revel in the sting.

you kiss him so hard he feels dizzy, so hard he can’t breathe. so hard he finds himself wondering if there’s ever been anything else but your lips and this feeling and falling in too deep.

it’s a strange feeling, yearning for air.

but he finds himself gasping, still, as you finally pull free.

“that…” you gulp down a much needed breath as he does the same, “i’ve… wanted to do that for a while…”

azul shudders to think himself anything close to feline, but if he were, he thinks he might have purred.

“you… you have?” he tries not to sound too pleased, adjusting his glasses.

“y-yeah — isn’t that strange?”

“no!” he says, too fast, and then immediately, turning away to clear his throat, “i just meant — i — i don’t think it’s strange.”

“no? does that… does that mean you felt the same?” there’s a teasing lilt to your voice that makes his whole body shake with shivers. he crinkles his nose and takes a deep breath and grasps at the tendrils of composure trickling from his gasp as he chews on his lips.

“i — well i did kiss you first, didn’t i?” and he nearly curses himself again for sounding like a petulant child.

“hm… i guess you did. but… you tried to say sorry.”

“that was — i didn’t mean —” azul groans, burying his face in his hands as he fights the urge to curl in on himself. and he would have, had he been under water and with full use of his tentacles. but he’s not, so he can’t, and he doesn’t.

but you laugh, and all is right again. you laugh and nudge him with your shoulder and he nudges you back, pulling his hands away from his face to watch you.

the setting sun and gathering clouds conspire to paint the horizon rosy.

“i know… i just like…” you shrug, letting your voice trail off as the sky darkens and the last lingering dregs of day are swallowed up by the lapping waves.

azul hums, for once reveling in the darkness that surrounds you, in gentle lull of a sleepy sea as it kisses and kisses and kisses the shore. not for the first time, he thinks of you. always you.

“you just like…?” he asks, his voice quiet now, a hushed, whispered thing.

and this time, when he glances over, he catches you ducking your head, and even like this, in the evening gloam just before moonrise, when the world is rendered monochrome by the ubiquitous glow of the sky and lack of direct light, he can see your cheeks darken.

“you.” you say, final and distinct and so, so sure. you glance at him, but he is staring back at you, slack-jawed.

“i… just like you,” you say, and azul wonders if this is what it feels like to fly.

he’s never thought all that much about flying before, not when he’s had swimming all his life, but… ever since he met you, he thinks he might like to try.

“well,” he muses, purposefully drawing out the word, “i think i… i just might —”

“look! a shooting star!”

your voice slices through the velvet night, pointing eagerly at the far horizon. azul whips around, just quick enough to catch the tail of star as it streaks across the sky.

“whoa…”

he’s never seen one before. he’s never spent so much time on the surface before he met you. and now that he has — he wonders if he can ever go back to living in the thickness of the sea.

the sky might be blue and big and heavy too, but it’s so different from the sea.

so much less salt, and so much more air.

“make a wish!” you say, clasping your fingers and closing your eyes. and azul remembers the strange human tradition you’d told him about of wishing on falling stars. at the time, he’d asked you if any of them have ever come true. to which you’d only shrugged and laughed and said does it matter? it’s the wishing part that counts!

and he hadn’t understood then, but watching you now, watching you with your eyes closed under the hazy curtain of a just drawn night, your fingers laced over one another as you wish on a fallen star, he thinks he might be starting to understand.

so he smiles, folds his fingers together and closes his eyes as well.

after a moment of quiet, he opens them to find you watching him.

“what did you wish for?” you ask.

azul blushes, and he’s sure that you can see it on his pale skin, even in the waxing light of the rising moon. he finds his heart in his chest like treasure tucked in the stomach of a sunken ship, his body a wreck of splinters and well-worn memories but he knows that he is no less precious. you’d taught him that.

“i thought that if i told, the wish won’t come true?”

you smile, you nod, you turn your eyes back to the glittering night sky.

he leans back to follow your gaze.

once, he’d wondered about the shape of air, the shade of the ever-bright sky, the taste of sunlight at the tip of his tongue. but now he’s kissed you, and he knows —

“fine then.” you say, as you pull him in to ghost your lips over his. he melts against you, fingers tugging you closer by the base of your neck, his mouth spelling hunger and honey as he moans against you.

“kiss me again,” he whispers when you pull apart.

you nod, breathless.

once, he’d wondered about the world above. but now, he’s kissed you and he knows — the air is sweet and sharp enough to sting, the sky is bright and blue and biting too. and that the sunlight — oh, the sunlight — it tastes like you, and you, and you.

#azul ashengrotto #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst imagines #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #twst fluff #azul scenarios #twst azul #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland fluff #azul ashengrotto fluff #floofy floof floof #uHM LOL didn't expect my first mention of tentacles in fic to be like this LMFAO #in the MOST FUCKING FLUFF/HEARTWARMING FIC POSSIBLE HA. #also hot take but shy stuttering azul is SUPERIOR no i will take no comments at this time #its been a while since ive played twst... maybe i should go back.