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the-fluff-piece · 1 year

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A delicate dance of swords

Part 1

Part 2

sfw Zorro x reader

Summary: You are new on the Thousand Sunny as a crewmember. One day you find yourself talking with the grumpy swordsman of the crew - about his swords and scars

Themes: flirting

CW: Talk about weapons and injuries

Like this one? Look at my masterlist

The ocean ist quiet and there is not much to do. The sun is out and there is just a sprinkle of clouds in the sky above you. Robin had already warned you that in between islands and other catastrophes, the journey could get calm. And boring.

You have already wandered aimlessly over the deck - on days like these it seems, everyone is occupied by their own pursuits. Everyone but you. The afternoon tea is already emptied, the cake eaten, every one of your own occupations seems either boring or is already exhausted. Robin is studying, Sanji is cooking, Ruffy, Usopp and Franky are building some kind of super robot-suit – there’s nothing that sparks your interest.

As you stroll over the grass, just gazing into the distance, your foot gets caught on something and you lose your balance, falling over - being held back by something around your waist.

"A bit clumsy today, aren't we?", you hear Zoros smug voice behind you as he puts you back on your feet. The crew's swordsman looks at you with an amused grin and collapses back against the reiling like a sack of rice. His three swords are leaning next to him as if they, too, were resting and enjoying the nice weather. He stretches an yawns so hard that he squeezes a tear out of his right eye. The very picture of lazyness.

"Do you have nothing to do?", he asks. "No", you reply. "Probably just as you.", you add, sitting down beside him with your legs crossed. "Hey, I am not doing nothing. Napping is an important part of my training.", he yawns again, demonstrating the seriousnes of his training regime by lying down on the grass and stretching like a lazy cat.

Since you have nothing better to do you try to join in on the training and relax -you aren’t very good at it. Zoro is absolutely still, breathing deeply, eyes closed. You, on the other hand, get restless, fumbling with the grass, settling on studying his swords more closely. They are beautiful, graceful weapons, each a different colour. The hilts are each wrapped in an intricate pattern, contrastet by the simple elegance of the sheath. It's the first time you get to examine them more closely- they're usually at his hip or in a fight.

The hair on your neck rises - you feel watched. Zoro is side-eyeing you and his mouth is curled in a mischievous grin. Still lying flat on the floor he asks "they're awesome, aren't they?"

"Yes, can I see the blades?", you ask - summoning an excited glint into his blue eye. He gets up eagerly, suddenly full of energy, and grabs the hilt of the white sword in a practiced motion, pulling out the blade just enough so that you can look at the fine steel. You see your own reflection in the polished surface and the fine lines of the damask steel - until Zoro pushes the blade back in and stands up.

"Follow me, I'll give you a demonstration", he says and starts walking towards his dojo.

It's cool and dark inside, he takes his shoes off and you do the same. Zoro throws his robe into a corner and begins to let the blades hiss through the air with incredible precision and strength. The dance of is blades looks so effortless, practiced a thousand times until perfection. His voice doesn’t even seem strained as he explains his art to you: "Each of my blades is different, some are stronger, hard to control" - he's putting the emphasis of his strikes on the black sword in his hand - "some are easier to master, but not as aggressive" - the white katana is taking the lead. His body is brimming with strength and the power of his movements, his face lighting up in a wide grin. With a graceful motion, both blades slip back into their sheaths on his hip and he comes to sit down on his knees right in front of you.

"If you want to, I can teach you a thing or two", he says in a confident voice. You are not one to pass up the opportunity to get lessons from a true master.

For the following weeks, you try to train with him as best as you can, but he is not accustomed to teaching. He is baffled that you can't lift one of his giant training weights or cut stone in half with ease. But he works hard to formulate a training program for you. It included meditation, regular napping and drinking. He couldn't tell you the sense behind this, but he felt it was an important part. Getting into the mood of teaching, he also talks lots and lots of bullshit. It seems to you that a great portion of his incredible skill is due to his inherent talent and strength. Although he seems so lazy most of the time, he is training with an unbelievably stoic discipline. A savant when it came to swordfighting – a pretty clueless guy in any other category. Still, you learned a lot of knacks simply through imitating his movements. It doesn’t take long until you can hold yourself with a sword against a marine soldier.

Even though his methods as a teacher are lacking, you become close friends during that time. This brutish man turns out to be a kind-hearted person that wants to protect his crewmates and pushes himself to become stronger to ensure everyone’s safety. His silly, foul mouth makes you laugh more than one time with surprisingly witty comments – and sometimes extremely stupid ones. He is patient and caring towards you, even though his training regimen is hard. His energy and motivation are often captivating and jump over to you, pushing you to train harder as well.

His teaching also involves random questions about the way of the sword. It seems like one of those exchanges was just around the corner as he asks: “What’s also very important for a swordsman or -woman?”

"Uhm...besides sleeping, drinking and lifting?”

“Yes”

“Taking care of your weapons?" you ask.

"Trophies of past battles" he answers, his massive chest swelling with pride. He touches the long scar on his front. You have gotten accustomed to seeing him shirtless in training, mostly ignoring it because if you didn’t pay attention, he would quickly knock you over. But right now, when he is running his hand down his front, it's hard for you not to stare at his sculpted torso, the tan skin battered and full of bigger and smaller scars. You lift your gaze and look into his face – once again you are painfully aware that your new teacher is the definition of a dangerous looking, but handsome man. His strong jaw, his scarred eye and his always taunting, confident look are hard to resist. You are pretty sure that he had his fans as well since his wanted poster came out.

He must have noticed your gaze, because his grin gets wider, more cocky, as he says: "I understand you find me just easy to look at as my katana."

To your shock he takes your hand and puts it on his warm chest.

"Scars are meant to be felt, too. This one I got really early in my travels with Luffy. I fought a man that could turn his body into a blade. A tough guy” he sets your fingertips on a scar that looks old. The pale, raised line on his skin almost runs across his entire upper body. You trace it with your fingers from beginning to end, from his chest down over his ribcage to his side.

“Cut me up really good, but I beat him. It’s important that you understand that one mistake in a fight can cost you a lot of blood.”

You have barely arrived at the end when he guides your hand to a different one, beginning just under his collarbone. "This one is from a zombie samurai I fought" his voice is barely a low whisper and you realise his face has come so close to yours, you can feel his breath in your hair. As you trace this one over his chest muscles you feel his ribcage expanding with deeper, faster breaths under your fingers. You explore this scar as well to it's end, mesmerized by the texture of his skin. Being so close to him was intoxicating, his broad frame towering over you in the dim dojo. His hand finds yours once again, pushing it down towards his abs - and still further down. "This one is especially...exciting", his voice is deep and seductive as he moves your hand past his belly towards his waistband. This is a surprise to you and you try to get free of his grasp, only managing once he lets go of your hand.

“What are you getting at”, you snap, a bit more aggressively than intended.

“I am just trying to teach you about safety”, he defends himself with his hands raised. You feel a bit awkward, his little stunt seemed to come out of nowhere and his flirtatious attitude vanished just as quickly. You decide to call it a day and excuse yourself, your thoughts a turmoil of confused what-if-scenarios.

Zoro just nods and lets you leave, training by himself again.

It was surely nothing, he didn’t think that far, he was just an airhead and probably doesn’t know what flirting even means. You try to tell yourself all kinds of things to manage those feelings that have grown over the past weeks. But you hope you didn’t irritate him with your sudden outburst.

You plan to talk to him about it over dinner – but he doesn’t show up. It’s not like him to miss a meal. You get a bottle of sake for an afterdinner drink with him, but he is not training or napping outside, he is surely in the crow’s nest. That usually means he wants to be left alone. If he doesn't want to talk you couldn't help it.

Zoro

After the little incident with his new student, Zoro decided it was time to brood and drink. He needs his space right now. All he wanted this afternoon was to brag about his past victories, but he lost control of himself, got lost in the moment. Scared his cute pupil.

sip

The burn of the cheap booze runs down his throat and will hopefully help him sleep. He still needs a strategy for tomorrow, what is he going to tell her?

"Sorry Y/n, I thought wanted it, too, and got carried away"

Surely not. The shock in her eyes when he even implied something sexual was evident, even for him. He will have to be a man about this and just apologize. Take the rejection with pride. He had faced other things in the past. Giant monsters, deadly fighters. He can always face a girl that dumped him before he could even get close.

sip

He empties the bottle and tosses in the corner. Tomorrow, after sobering up.

More parts planned as inspiration hits me

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #op zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro x you

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harlowsbby · 1 year

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Idk if you got something like this or already did it. But maybe a gingerbread house contest? Urban or Jack, whichever you wanna do!

Idk why I be gettin shy sending in requests 😭 this why I never do it

May the best man or women win

Jack loved some good competition he was never once to go easy or backdown from a challenge so when you mentioned having a gingerbread house competition he was all here for it.

“So what are the rules baby girl? Let our audience know.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows at everyone joining in to the live.

“The rules are Jack and Me have to get each of our gingerbread houses done and complete within an hour and the loser has to do whatever the winner says for the next 48 hours.” You smirked.

“What? That wasn’t the plan at all baby.” Jack sucked at anything that involved arts and crafts and you knew it that’s why you came up with this idea.

“Well it is now and since the fans can’t really see who’s cheating we have Urban and Sunni here to make sure we don’t cheat.”

“How do you cheat in a gingerbread house contest?” Sunni asked. “You’d be surprised but anyways let’s set up before we start.”

You took out both of the gingerbread houses you had bought earlier that day before handing Jack one.

“While we are building our gingerbread houses Sunni or Urban will be giving us questions to answers from all of you watching.” You told all the fans on the live after a few minutes you finally managed to set everything up.

Looking over at Jack you smirked seeing the nervous and uneasy look on his face. “You doing good over there baby? You look a bit nervous.” You teased him and sat across from him.

“Me nervous? I’m never nervous so you don’t even have to worry about that baby, besides you look like you’re nervous.” Jack loved trash talking it was one of his favorite sports you knew he was only saying that to get under your skin and have you stressing and sweating but you weren’t falling for it.

“We’ll see about that, okay so now that we unwrapped everything Sunni will count down.”

“In 3..2..1.. okay you can both start now.” The minute Sunni said the two of you were able to start you were putting pieces of the gingerbread house together.

“So this first question is for Jack and it says what is your favorite thing about Y/N.” He scoffed playfully. “What’s my favorite thing about Y/N? Well besides that big head she has I’d say her smile my girl has a very charming smile that’ll have you hooked.” A few fans aww’d in the chat at Jack’s response.

“This question is for Y/N, what’s an ick you have about Jack?”

“Damn I can only pick one ick?” You laughed which resulted in a glare from Jack.

“My ick about Jack is that he acts as if he can’t clean up after himself especially after his showers I’m tired of cleaning up your underwear Jack.”

“That’s disgusting man you can’t even clean up after yourself?” Urban asked Jack. “You’re one to talk the entire time on tour your underwear was everywhere so I don’t wanna hear it.” Jack defended himself.

“Let’s not start arguing now besides I have a few more questions, this one is for Jack again, it says who has been the rudest celebrity you’ve met and why?” You all ooo’d waiting for Jack’s answer, Jack suddenly became red in the face.

“Do I have to answer that question?” “Yes you do unless you want to eat a spoonful of mustard.” Jack’s nose scrunched up at the thought of having to eat a spoonful of mustard.

“Fine the rudest celebrity I’ve met was Jennifer Lopez but I’m not going into any details.” You laughed because you knew just what he was talking about.

You were all having so much fun with the questions that you completely forgot you were in a competition.

“How much time do we have left Sunni?” Sunni looked down at his phone and his widened at how quick time was going. “Well you both only have twenty minutes left.”

“20 minutes?!” Jack and You both said in unison, “Well yeah that’s what happens when you’re in the Christmas spirit.” Urban laughed before taking a hit of his joint.

You looked over your gingerbread house in approval you were satisfied with how it came out, the glitter rooftop really brought it all together. Before you knew it the timer went off signaling that time was up.

“Okay are you both ready to show your gingerbread houses?” Sunni asked. “I’m ready.” You stood up and brought your gingerbread up to the camera and showing everyone.

“Looks like everyone loves Y/N’s gingerbread house so far, Jack let’s see what you have.”

Jack stood up and your both almost dropped his gingerbread house looked amazing, everything was done perfectly.

“Is that a family made up out of gumdrops?” You said in disbelief. “It sure is baby and you might wanna close your mouth you know before any flys land in it.” He smirked before placing his gingerbread house back down.

“Looks like the fans are loving Jack’s gingerbread house a bit more meaning Jack won!!” Jack instantly started cheering.

“I told you I’d win baby that’s what you get for being so cocky and confident all of the time.” He stuck his tongue out at you before grabbing his phone and ending the live. You huffed and puffed before flopping on the couch.

“So that means I have to be your little maid for the next 48 hours?”

“I’m glad you already knew what to do and for starters you can start by rubbing my feet they are kinda sore from tour.” Jack took off his socks, you felt like you were about to throw up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me Sunni and Urban can you two help me?” Urban and Sunni shook their heads no.

“That seems like a you problem not an us problem I’m sorry but no Y/N.” “Now if you excuse us we have some type of errands or something to do.” They quickly left leaving only Jack and You.

“My feet aren’t about to rub themselves baby girl.”

“Fine I’ll do it myself.” You groaned but took Jack’s feet and started massaging them. You stuck to your bet and was Jack’s maid for the next 48 hours and you didn’t enjoy not one bit of it.

tags

@heavyhitterheaux @nattinatalia

@moody4world @jackharloww

@jackmans-poison @hoodharlow

@jacksmoviestar @pianoisland

@awhore4moree @violetdreamsworld

@lovefks @a-moment-captured

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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girl8890 · 2 years

Text

Project Partners | CH 5

Pairing: Loner!Jungkook x Popular!Reader

Summary: Jungkook has always been a loner. Only having one friend that barely even lets him get a word out. College should be flying by with the type of life he’s living. But every time he sees one girl, in particular, it seems like time slows down. Now that a group project has been assigned, and no one is allowed to pick their partners. What will Jungkook do now that he has to work closely with the girl he’s madly in love with for the next three months?

Warnings: anxiety, class project (ew), first kiss, first hand job, first blow job (for five seconds), cumming in readers mouth, lots of pining, suggestive flirting, just in case you forgot: jk loves reader hard

A/n: hey… um… I know it’s been like a year since I updated this story, and I originally said this story was discontinued, but after reading over this story again I’ve decided to bring it back! Yay! Last year I went through a really bad funk, and stopped writing a lot of projects I was in love with, including this one. I also got a hate comment about this story before it even came out, so that didn’t help my mental health or keep me inspired about writing… BUT I’m okay now, and have been so inspired to write lately. I hope you enjoy this part even though it’s very late! 💜

BTS ML | Index | CH 6

。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。

Jungkook didn’t know what to wear. What do you wear to meet up with the girl you’re madly in love with, anyway? He met up with you once, he should be able to meet up with you again just fine!

But this was somehow different. You asked him to go to your room after flirting with him! Both of you… alone, again… in your room! You said it was for the project, but Jungkook’s fuzzy brain is saying it’s not just for the project. What if you want to-

He shakes his head, not allowing stupid horny thoughts to cloud his mind right now. Other then you finding him intriguing - whatever the fuck that means - he doesn’t understand how this is happening to him. For one, Jungkook is not intriguing. Other then his smarts in the arts, he’s got nothing. The only good thing about his life was when he snuck glances at you.

Not in a creepy way. More like a, you don’t know he’s staring and you’re just so beautiful he can’t not look at you, way. Okay… maybe a creepy way, but give him a break! He’s in love. In love with the popular, beautiful, sweet, Y/n L/n.

Huhhh… he’s going to suck at this.

Jungkook holds the shirt he picked up from his bed about five times now, and threw it at the bed again. Looking down at the pile of clothing on his bed, he huffs out a breathe, frustrated with himself. If he can’t even pick out an outfit, then how is he going to get through a date with you?!

He decided once he got back from the little coffee meet up you two had, that he was going to change his outfit. The tight blue tank top and short shorts you were wearing did not pair well with his overly baggy red gamer shirt and black sweatpants. A stupid thing for him to wear out in the first place!

Yup! He’s hopeless. Jungkook spins around, and falls back on his bed onto the pile of clothing. He presses the balls of his hands onto his closed eyes, wanting to cry about how overwhelming this all is.

Just when Jungkook is about to chicken out, texting you that he can’t meet with you today because he suddenly became sick only a few hours after seeing and being just fine, Ryan barges through the door. He looks at his helpless friend, then rolls his eyes.

“Seriously! This again, dude! How many times are you going to get depressed about meeting with her? I thought love made sunny days every day or some bullshit thing like that.”

Jungkook takes his hands off of his face, and instead uses them to support his weight as he sits up in the bed.

“I don’t know what to wear!” Jungkook shouts, ignoring everything his friend and roommate just said to him.

“Ugh!” Ryan complains as he jumps onto the bed, not wanting to deal with his shy bean of a friend. “Dude, just wear black.”

Jungkook raises a confused eyebrow at him. He asks in a small voice, “Black?”

“Yes, black. Girls dig a guy in black. Don’t understand it myself, but something about a guy looking like he’s secretly a vampire is hot to girls.”

Jungkook blinks at few times at Ryan, then stands up from his bed to turn and look at his clothing again. He digs around the clothing pile, and finds a few black things he hasn’t worn in while. Although black is his favorite color, last time he went through a faze of just wearing black the school called him into the office to ask if he was suicidal.

Yeah… that went as well as you think.

After putting the clothing on and adjusting himself in the mirror, he turns around to see Ryan is already staring at him. Pushing that aside, he gestures to his outfit. “Well!”

It’s a plain black shirt paired with a black leather jacket on top that has three colorful buttons on the chest pocket. He’s also sporting a pair of black jeans, and black boots. Basically, Jungkook is putting all the goths in this school to shame with his look… and Ryan likes it.

Ryan coughs into his fist, shuffles in his seat because he’s not used to his friend actually looking attractive. Sure, Jungkook has a hot face, but the way he presents himself and the overly baggy clothing he usually wears doesn’t let the world see how good looking he truly is.

“Ugh… you look good, I guess? Is that normal to say to a friend?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at Ryan, not caring for his weirdness at the moment.

He looks back at himself in the mirrors, trying and failing not to clutch at the ends of his jacket cuffs. He’s nervous beyond belief to meet with you. Jungkook’s honestly believe he always will be, but again: this is only for the project.

The amount of times he told himself made it less believable every time. Your conversation from the coffee meet up still swirling around in his head, and the amount of times he almost told you his feelings to your face not failing to dawn on him.

How can someone be so nervous, but at the same time comfortably with someone at the same time? It makes no sense, but yet that’s how Jungkook has been with you lately. He just needs to pull that comfortability to the forefront of his brain right now. That’s how he truly thinks this will go well.

That’s why after a few more looks into the mirror, and combing his hair to the side so it’s parted to own side for the second time, he grabs onto his cell phone, and project supplies and then leaves the room.

Keeping his head up high as he leaves his dorm to head to yours.

———

Jungkook gets to your dorm door, and guess what happens? Not him knocking on the door, that’s for sure!

He went to knock, then stopped himself. A minute later he went to knock again, then stopped again. Feeling like a bigger idiot each time he stops his hand from rapping on the only piece of wood that’s separating himself from you. Just when he’s about to knock on the door again, his phone dings in his pocket.

He cringes at the loud bird chirp that comes from his phone, praying you didn’t hear it through the door since his volume was on the highest setting it could be. But since the universe fucking hates him, you did hear it.

“Jungkook, is that you?” You just texted him no more then five seconds ago wondering if he was on his way, then heard a phone ding from the other side of your door. You open the door, and see a highly embarrassed Jungkook standing there, phone in hand now.

“Ugh… Hi, Y/n! Just got your text!” He waves his phone, showing your name and last text light up on the screen. You try your very hardest not to crack a smile at how adorable he is.

“We’re you just standing out here, or did you just arrive?” You ask with a knowing and joking smirk on your face.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, realizing he may have just gotten caught at being the most weirdest person in the universe for not knocking on your door when he first arrived. “N-no! I just got here, seriously.”

Yeah, the seriously does nothing for him. Lucky for Jungkook, though, you find everything about him adorable. Even when he is to shy to answer the door. You’re not sure when it happened, maybe the first day you worked on the project and he offered you his shoulder to cry on, but you kinda have a little crush on the loner of your school.

It’s just then when you were about to gesture for him to come in, that you take in his outfit. You’ll be the first to admit that you love a guy in all black especially if that outfit actually has style to it. Jungkook is wearing everything your brain would usually pounce on in movies. Making you and your friend drool at the character, but right now Jungkook is that character come to life.

Jungkook realizes you’re just now noticing his outfit, and because he’s him and thinks you somehow find it bad, he falsely explains, “I-I thought I would try something… new?”

You look back up at Jungkook, completing your fill of his outfit for the moment, and smirk. Tonight, is going to be so fun!

“You’re really hot, Kookie.”

His eyes widen at your sudden compliment, and he feels the tips of his ears redden from the way your eyes roam his body one more time. He never, ever thought he would live to see the day that you - out of all fricken people - thought he was hot. No one finds him hot. Not even himself!

Jungkook’s jaw is slack, and he doesn’t know what to say since your words are playing on repeat in his head. You giggle at his reaction, feeling your own blush start to come on, but you breathe through it. You then gesture inside you room, move to the side a little, and say to him, “Come on in.”

———

Five minutes. Jungkook had five minutes of actually working on this project with you before his mind went to woozy town.

You were wearing the same outfit as before, so once you got comfortable on the floor, changing positions and making your breasts squish onto the paper you were both working on, his eyes zeroed in on them. Every time he had the strength to look away, a pencil or something would roll towards you and he was forced to look back at them. To look back at you, and all your sexy glory.

You’re distracted with the project right now, so would it be really bad just to look for a few seconds? No, Jungkook, that’s not right. But… you’re just so beautiful… it will only be a peak. Jungkook swallows down the lump in his throat, and he feels his eyes twitch as he looks back at you, his conscious of how this isn’t a good idea fading into the background as he takes you in.

You’re in full concentration of the project right now, holding a yellow pencil between your teeth as you think. Your lips have always captivated Jungkook, to the point he would stay up at night thinking about how soft that would feel against his own. He let his eyes roam a little lower, to your neck that has the smallest smudge of blue paint on it. He wonders how that blue paint got there, from you pairing in class or do you have a secret painting in your room somewhere?

The slim part of your neck extends as you turn your head to the side to look at the project with a better angle, and he wonders if you would do the same if he kisses you there. If your skin was slaty like most fan fictions describe, or as sweet as your personality. His tongue rolls in his mouth, wanting to jut out and lick you, just thinking about your taste.

Then his eyes get back to what made him admire you in this moment again. Your two breasts being squished on top of the drawing paper the both of you are using for the project. He feels a ting of jealousy for the piece of paper.

You look up from your drawing when Jungkook doesn’t answer your question that involved the project. You realize very quickly that your question fell of deaf ears, and that something was distracting Jungkook. Two things, to be specific.

You raise a pointed eyebrow at him, and feel heat hit your face. You’ve been admired like this before, you just didn’t expect mr nervous to do the same. You snap your fingers in front of his face, making him have to shake his head out of his horny trance. Jungkook’s eyes are blown out wide, and his face becomes redder then a tomato when he realizes you just got caught him staring at your body.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, making all the pencils around him fly in different directions by his fast movements. He backs up to the end of the side of your bed, and feels like his heart is about to give out. He can’t believe what he just did. He can’t believe what he just got caught doing. He’s never been this reckless around you, but now you’ve caught him in the act.

“I-I-I’m so sorry, Y/n. I - Jesus, I…” Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. But, he also doesn’t know why you’re not yelling at him to get out of your room. To leave your room and never speak to him again because you don’t want to be near someone as perverted as him.

The bubble of anxiety that hasn’t been around since this morning is starting to fizzle across his skin. His hands shaking, and the sweater paws he creates that usually calm him are not helping. He’s looking all around your room, frantic to find a point in your room to look at and calm his rapid beating heart.

Before his anxiety takes over completely, leaving him in a even more embarrassing predicament when he will barely be able to stand when you kick him out of your room, he hears your sweet little giggle fill his ears. He finally looks over at you, seeing you hold your hand over your mouth as you try to calm your laughter.

Jungkook doesn’t understand why your laughing. How is this funny at all? The guy your supposed to be working on a project with, and maybe even close enough to say your friend, was just ogling at your boobs!

“Kookie, it’s okay. Stop freaking out.”

His eyes continue to stay wide, and he feels one of them twitch. “I-it’s okay?”

You nod your head, plastering another smirk on your face while you look at Jungkook calm down from his little freak out. You point a pink manicured finger at Jungkook, “You, my friend, are to cute!”

He hears you giggle again, and then you start to crawl over to Jungkook, and through his anxiety filled brain for a smidgen of a second he compares this moment to one of his nightly imaginations. Imaginations that are always filled with you, and his face in a pillow while he moans into it.

His face gets redder at the thought alone, and he clenches his jaw to stop the thought in its tracks. Once your right in front of Jungkook, you sit up on your knees, making you look taller then him because he’s in such a cuddled up position. Your smirk deflates when you see he’s still shaking, and instead you show him one of your sweet smiles, trying to calm his nerves you even say, “I’m not mad, Kookie.”

Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief, but that’s doesn’t answer his question of why you suddenly decided to crawl so closely to him or why your not mad, even. He drags his legs up to his chest, cuddling them to his chest with his arms as he tries to be even smaller then he was before.

“Your not?” You shake your head, and he nods his head - anxiety fading away. “T-that’s good, but… um… y/-“

With a singular hand placed on his knee, Jungkook cuts himself off. Anything he was planning to say was wiped clean from his mind once your hand touches him. The heat radiating off your skin and somehow making his entire body shake with it. Jungkook untightens himself, letting go of his legs, but not removing them from his chest.

You’ve touched him before - his hand mostly - but the place your hand is touching now is so intimate. Especially when you rub the bone of his knee with your thumb through his jeans that have suddenly become very tight in certain places.

“Do you like me, Kookie?”

…

Somehow, not needing an ambulance, Jungkook has a heart attack. Well… not really, but it feels like he’s about to by the way he’s sweating profusely. Out of all the questions in the world you could ask him in that moment, why that one?! Not: why were you staring? Or, are you a freak?

Yes, he likes you! Fuck, he fucking loves you! But why ask now? Why ask after he just utterly embarrassed himself and ogled at you like a creep.

“I’m sorry… w-what?” He must not have heard you right. His anxiety has probably just fogged up his brain, and now his mind is making up silly things.

But it wasn’t in his head. You then slowly push his legs wide apart, and Jungkook is frozen to let you do it. You scoot yourself in between his spread legs, fluttering your eyelashes up at him like the minx that you are.

“I said, do you like me?”

Okay, so you did actually say those words. Jungkook swallows even though his mouth is dryer then a desert, and clenches his fingernails into his hands. Not only did you clarify your personal question, but you’re sitting in between his legs - closer to him now then you ever have before.

All Jungkook needs to do is reach out and he’ll be touching you, your that close. But besides that, even if he doesn’t answer your question, all it will take is for you to look down to know your answer.

Realizing this, Jungkook places his hands on top of his embarrassing erection, and then opens and closes his mouth like a cod fish. Still run speechless.

“Because… if you do like me…” You run your hands down both his legs. “Then I would say the feelings are mutual.” Jungkook swallows, ears burning and brain all over the place. “And I would even… give you a little treat if you answer honestly.”

Your hands stop when there right on the outer edges of his crotch. The tips of your fingers touching his hands that are covering his erection that you clearly saw before.

Jungkook blinks… processes everything… then says, whole heartedly, “I do, Y/n.”

No stutter. No crack in his voice. He says those three words likes he’s breathing out air. There’s a lot about you he doesn’t understand, and one of those things is how in such moments as these he feels like he needs to always tell you the truth. You’re always truthfully to him, so he shouldn’t lie to you anyway, especially after you admitted to something he only ever heard in his wildest of dreams…

You said you liked him.

Even before the concept of a treat came up, he highlighted those words of yours. He must be dreaming. He has to be dreaming. But he’s not, and your bright smile proves that.

“Good,” You whisper in between the two of you.

Then you steal his first kiss.

The first few seconds of it, Jungkook doesn’t react. His mind still floating to Mars and back from you saying you like him. Him unable to wrap his brain around how or why you do, but still feeling gitty about it.

Once his mind has settled a bit, he gasps into your mouth. He finally gets back into his body, the trip to Mars his brain just went on being cut short once he realized your lips were on his. You giggle against his lips, but you don’t pull back from him.

Jungkook is not only inexperienced with kissing, but the fact that his first kiss is with you has him shaking. Then again�� you seem to be doing that a lot to him today.

You move your lips against his when you realize he wasn’t going to, and your happy to take the lead, anyway. To many guys thinking just sticking their tongue down your throat is the way to do it makes you a hundred percent okay with taking the lead. You move your lips in such a way, that Jungkook starts to follow you. Wet noises are heard in your quiet room ever time both your lips reattach.

Just like Jungkook predicted, your lips are feather soft. The taste of your cherry lipstick smoothing over his taste buds, and the way your move your lips as his brain short circuiting. If he wasn’t in love with before, he definitely is now. He never tasted something so sweet before, and the love he’s trying to pour back to you is small but will always be there.

If a kiss could blind a soul, then Jungkook is blind to everything but you.

After five minutes of kissing - and heavy breathing from Jungkook - you remove your lips from his. Jungkook is in awe of you. He must be on drugs because suddenly he swears there’s sparkles surrounding your frame. That may just be his happiness clouding his eyes, but either way he’s over the moon.

Not only do you like him, but you just kissed him! You made out with him. Sealing the deal on his heart belonging to you for eternity.

“Y/n- that-… wow,” He’s speechless. How could he not be? He still feels your lips against his own like a ghost, and he moves on hand to touch his lips. When he looks down at his fingers, he sees your light pink lipstick on the tips of his fingers. Your lipstick staining his lips from the intense make out session that’s just happened, and he hopes it never rubs off.

“Wow, indeed,” You say. “But I didn’t give you your treat yet.”

Jungkook raises a pointed eyebrow at you, not understanding-

With one movement of your hand, Jungkook is grunting against closed teeth when your hand smooths over his bulge through his pants. His neglected length getting harder as you two were making out, and Jungkook completely forgetting about it since all of his senses were only directed at you.

He must have slacked his hands off of his lap at some point during the make out session, because now when he looks down through his slowly closing lashes he only sees your hand rubbing at him through his jeans.

You giggle at his hearty reaction, and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Someone get excited quickly.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush, and his nails rip at the floorboards. Yes, he’s excited! The girl of his dreams is touching him, and not only that’s, he’s a fucking virgin! Any touch from your brings on oversensitivity, so for to touch him there it’s like a super nova has just went off in his body.

He feels like he should tell you the truth. That’s a an inexperienced virgin, and maybe going this far with him right now isn’t a good idea. He should tell you he’s not as experienced as you may think a guy his age should be, but before Jungkook could utter a word to you you’re unbuttoning his pants and smashing your lips back together with his.

Jungkook wants to faint and howl to the night skies all at the same time. This is his deepest wet dream come true, but he still thinks he should-

“Huh!!!”

The second your dainty hand wraps around him, Jungkook is completely done for. He doesn’t cum, but he’s damn well close already. He’s moaning, grunting, and almost fricken crying by the way you’re touching him. It’s literally only been thirty seconds, but those few pumps you have gave to his cock have him melting.

You detach your lips from his at the same time your thumb rubs at his swollen head. Jungkook’s nails dig into the floorboards even harder, and he’s trying his best not to shut his eyes as the pleasure you’re giving him takes over is every body cell.

You lick your lips, glancing at his cock in your hand, “Does that feel good, Kookie?”

“Y/n, oh shit, y/n~” Your name falls from his lips like it has all the times he’s done this to himself. But your words just prove he’s not alone, and he’s not dreaming this up. “Fuck~”

You bite your lip, loving how wild your project partner is - not to mention vocal. You wonder how he would react if you go down on him, and there’s nothing stopping from asking.

“Would you be like it more if I put my mouth on you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, and the highest pitched moan leaves him mouth. His cock jumps in your hand, and you take that as a whopping yes!

You lean your head down, readying yourself to take him. “W-wait… y/n I’m-“ He cut off when your mouth surrounds him with one gulp, bobbing up and down once and then twice… and then you’re getting a mouthful of cum and a ear full of moans.

Jungkook’s entire body vibrates as he cums. Your hands had him close already, so once your mouth touched him he knew it would come within a matter of seconds. Three euphoric, amazing, blissed out seconds of your mouth surrounding him. Seeing you bob your head, even if it was only three times, will forever be stained in his mind. No doubt he will be seeing that picture of you in his head for many days to come.

He doesn’t even have the access to feel embarrassed about cumming so fast because he’s so fucked out. He’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling quickly with each heave, and he feels continuing jolts of pleasure coarse down his body. Your mouth is still on him, swallowing up ever spurt, and that knowledge alone has him spurting another few times. Your wet mouth consuming him fully, and he still can’t believe how good you feel.

No… he knew you would feel good. Everything about you is already perfect, so of course you were good with this too. Even if he only got to experience this all for a solid minute, he’s smiling at the fact that he did. That he experienced this with you, and how even the deepest part of himself knows he will remember this moment forever. Even if you were to kick him out right now, and run back to your ex, Jungkook would remember this day as the best day of his life.

You slowly remove your mouth from his slowly declining length, and then wipe your mouth. You look up to see Jungkook with the cutest smile on his face, and it is quite adorable, although you feel he forgot to mention one tiny detail about himself before you decided to run him stupid.

You say his name to get his attention, and Jungkook hums back in content - staring at you like you hold the universe in his hands.

“Are you a virgin?”

And… Jungkook is back to freaking out.

CH 6

#shy jungkook #jungkook #jk #jungkook bts #bts #jk bts #project partners #project partners chapter 5 #chapter 5 #virgin jungkook #loner jungkook #romance #popular reader #jungkook x reader #loner!jungkook x popular!reader #virgin!jungkook x confident!reader #jungkook smut

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ask-sibverse · 9 months

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Prompt: hiking date with Killer (As much fun as explicitly diabetic related situations are, it's nice to do some things where the main focus isn't diabetes. I do have another diabetes focused drabble planned, but for now, fluff! Mostly.) Set in the same version of things as this

TW: violent intrusive thoughts

(Like this? Want more? Send a prompt!)

Cgm, check. Pump set to activity mode (one of the author's favorite damn settings about the Omnipod), check. A boatload of granola bars and other low blood sugar snacks to shove in your inventory, check. Plenty of water? Got it.

"I think I'm ready," you said.

Killer had suddenly texted you that he's taking you on a hike, before immediately backtracking and asking if it was too much with your diabetes. You tried to resist the urge to smack him as you reminded him you swim regularly in the summer and did martial arts several times a week for years. You know how to balance diabetes and exercise.

So here you were now and hour later about to go on a date with Killer. Was it a date? He hadn't called it one. It could just be a friendly, platonic outing. You shouldn't make things weird.

But you were ready to go, either way. You walked out of your room to find Killer on the couch with your cat. Cats are tiny hunters and Killer is, well... Yeah. So it didn't really surprise you that he got along great with your cat. Said cat was currently purring in his lap.

"I'm ready to go."

"I'm trapped, go on without meeeee."

You stared at him. "I don't even know where we're supposed to be hiking."

"Oh yeah. But the caaaaat."

You snorted and scooped up your cat. He meowed in complaint but let you move him off the murder skeleton. "Lets get going, shall we?"

He nodded eagerly. "You ever been to Mount Ebbott?"

"No, I don't think I have."

"Its not too horrible a hike, and the view is great from the entrance to the Underground."

"Okay, let me get my car keys."

"Why bother? You've got someone with you who can teleport."

"I keep forgetting that."

Killer snorted and extended his hand. "Hang on tight."

Shortcuts were sometimes more disorienting than portals. Portals you at least were passing through something to get from point A to point B, shortcuts you were one place and then you blinked and were somewhere else. So to suddenly be in the woods at the base of Mt Ebbott took a moment for your mind to catch up with.

Killer started dragging you up the path as soon as you collected yourself. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and it was just the two of you on the mountain.

"Is it usually this peaceful?" You asked. "I don't think anyone is up here."

"Depends on the AU, and the time of year," Killer said. "But yeah, no one but us here right now." He paused. It seemed like thoughts were running through his mind. "I could do anything to you, and no one would know."

"Killer."

"I wouldn't, I promise!"

"Killer."

You sighed. "What's going through your head?"

"... That no one would hear you scream. That I could chase you through the woods and kill you, watch my knives make you into a pincushion and no one would find out until it was too late. But I won't do that, promise!"

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Do we need to go back? It sounds like your mind is getting to you."

"No! Ill be fine, I want to show you the view from the top!"

"Alright, I trust you."

So you filled the silence to give him a distraction. Talking about your hobbies and cats, asking what he and the gang had been up to. It seemed to work, at least to distract him if it didn't fix things. You almost didn't notice the entrance to the Underground until you were about to fall in, Killer having to grab you by the collar of your jacket.

"Don't fall in. You're not a Frisk." he snorted. You stuck your tongue out before turning.

The view took your breath away. You could see all of Ebott City from here and the surrounding valley. You could imagine how incredible it must feel to see this for the first time after centuries kept underground.

"This is..."

"Incredible, yeah. I saw it a few times before my human really lost it."

You squeezed his hand gently. "I hope Chara doesn't reset here, I'd hate for everyone to lose this." Especially your friends

"Eh, who knows." He shrugged. "Don't have a high opinion of most of those brats. Or humans in general."

"What about me?"

"You're... Different. Special."

#intrusive thoughts tw #killer sans #killer sans x reader #t1dreader #undertale

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yukidragon · 10 months

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Sunny Day Jack - Just a Little Teasing

Hey, remember this very NSFW sketch I posted last year? When I was posting it again completely uncensored over on my pillowfort, I got inspired to write a flashfic about it. I think I was influenced by the little writing clip I posted along with the vampire AU picture over there. Maybe I'll make posting small writing teasers along with my art a thing...

Anyway, it's just some quick PWP smut between Jack and Alice. I figured I'd share it here like I do with other rough drafts since I suspect there might be one or two people who'd enjoy reading it. Just a hunch.

I'm not sure if I need to put up content warnings beyond mentioning the explicit sexual acts, but just in case, there's also mild possessiveness and a brief reference to body image issues. For the most part it's just Jack shamelessly teasing and pleasuring Alice while she gets flustered.

I hope you enjoy this short romp of lewd fun times with Jack and Alice. Please let me know if you did, thanks! 💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

...

Alice yelped as Jack suddenly pulled her into his lap, her back flush against his chest. She froze as she felt his hardness press between her legs, and panic shot through her as she realized just how much weight that she was putting on such a delicate part of his body. “I-I’m too heavy! I’m-”

“Shhh… It’s okay,” Jack shushed gently into her ear before kissing her there, and the sensation caused Alice to shiver. “It’s okay, sunshine. You’re not too heavy for me. I’m just fine. You could sit in my lap all day if you wanted.”

Despite his reassurance, Alice couldn’t let go of her skepticism so easily. A look back over her shoulder allowed her to see Jack’s reassuring smile, and she squeaked when he stole a kiss from her.

“Oh Alice…,” Jack sighed happily as he slid his arms around her soft middle. “I love being this close to you, holding you without anything between us.” He placed a kiss onto her shoulder next, and he smiled at the way she shivered against him. “You’re so warm, so soft… I could hold you like this forever.”

Alice gasped as Jack moved to kissing her neck next, and she tilted her head to give him room to mark a trail along her flushed skin. His soothing words and gentle kisses slowly managed to calm her worries, but they quickly made her heart race with excitement instead. It made her that much more aware of him and the position they were in, particularly the rock hard erection pressed so intimately between her legs. “Jack…”

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect,” Jack said between kisses, his voice tickling her skin. “Look how perfectly we fit together. It’s like you were made for me.”

At that subtle direction, Alice couldn’t help but look down at the head of his dick pressed delicately against her folds. It also unintentionally caused her to focus on the swell of her belly and how much it got in the way. The disgust towards her fat barely flitted through her mind before suddenly their position shifted slightly as he spread her legs apart and leaned back a little, exposing her pussy even more, much to her mortification. “Jack!? What the heck?”

“Just look at how wet you are,” Jack said beside her ear in a low growl that sent another shiver through Alice as his voice reverberated through her. She could hear the hunger in his voice, and she glanced back to see his eyes roaming across her body shamelessly, drinking in the sight of her in such a compromising position. “You’re already so eager to have me inside you, aren’t you?”

Alice let out a noise of mashed together syllables rather than anything coherent as Jack slid his hand downward along her belly, the other holding her thigh at a wide angle to keep her exposed to him. Her heart pounded as she watched his hand move lower, his large fingers teasingly rubbing at her mound and toying with her pubic hair.

Jack chuckled at the embarrassed sounds Alice made and the heavy blush that spread along her face to her ears and neck. “Would you like that, sunshine?” he cooed before nipping at her ear. “You can tell me.” He ran his tongue along her ear and was rewarded for it with a low moan from his lover. “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Hesitantly, Alice nodded, and Jack couldn’t help but smile mischievously.

“Can you say it?” Jack inched his fingers a little lower, just barely skirting where she burned hottest. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. You just have to tell me what it is you want, Alice.”

A keening whine escaped Alice despite herself. After all that, Jack decided to start teasing her now? His fingers feathered her skin close to her pussy, too light to do more than make her maddeningly aware of his delicate touch. “T-touch me… I want you to touch me.”

Jack smiled wickedly. “As you wish,” he said before stroking her inner thighs, focusing his fingers everywhere except where she ached for him the most.

Frustration won over embarrassment and Alice let out a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a grunt. “Jack! You know what I meant.”

“Oh?” Jack asked with feigned innocence that wasn’t even remotely convincing. “I’m sorry, sunshine. Could you tell me where you want me to touch you?”

“You know damn where,” Alice grumbled.

“Now, now, sunspot, there’s no need to get riled up,” Jack said with a crooked grin as he slowly ran his finger up and down along her thigh. “All you have to do is let me know exactly what you want, what you need, and I’ll give it to you…”

Alice eyed Jack. The smugness in his smile and the playful glint in his eye didn’t escape her notice. A childish part of her stubbornly wanted to deny his request - especially since she was mortified by the idea of actually saying she wanted him to do - but the burning of her core served as a strong counter-argument.

After a moment’s thought, Alice came up with a compromise, and she grabbed his wrist to direct his hand where she needed him the most. “Here. T-touch me here.”

Though surprised, Jack was certainly not disappointed by her counter. He chuckled in amusement before he began to stroke her clit, drawing out a low moan from her in return. “Good girl,” he cooed into her ear. She huffed at the praise, only for the displeased sound to turn into another moan as he expertly teased her sensitive nub into hardness. “That’s it, Alice. That’s my good girl. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Instinctively Alice rocked into his hand, but she could barely move while in this precarious and exposed position. However, that slight movement was enough for her to notice the way Jack’s cock twitched against her in response. She was so aware of the feel of him, how hard and hot he was, how a little bit of precum was dribbling down the length to mingle with the wetness leaking out of her. His body was a mixture of hard muscle and soft curves spooning her from behind, holding her lovingly in place.

When Jack slid the first finger inside of her, Alice couldn’t help but moan his name as she tipped her head back against him. He ran his tongue along her neck down to her shoulder to get a taste of the sweetness of her skin, eliciting another moan from her as he teased her pussy with practiced ease.

“That’s it, sunshine,” Jack practically purred against her ear. “Don’t overthink it. All you have to do is feel. Feel just how much I love you, and how much you love me. Feel just how good it is to have my fingers inside this pretty little hole of yours.” He slid in a second finger for emphasis, sending another jolt of pleasure through Alice that he could feel as she shuddered against him. “Can you feel it, Alice? Can you feel how much I love you?”

Alice nodded shakily. She could feel his love, as crazy as that concept was; she could feel it almost as clearly as she could feel his fingers moving around inside her, spreading and twisting to tease her senses. He knew just how to touch her to drive her crazy, pumping his fingers vigorously in and out in one minute, then the next leaving her keening as he removed them to trace her dewy folds with a feather light touch, before taking a moment to toy with her clit to send an intense jolt of pleasure through her. “Jack! Oh god, Jack!”

Jack smiled in satisfaction at the way Alice squirmed ineffectively, helpless to his ministrations. “That’s it, Alice,” he growled against her ear. “Say my name. Tell me just how much you love this… how much you love me.”

Alice groped at his arm for support, eventually settling on his wrist just above where his fingers were working their magic. There was little else she could do but writhe in his arms and moan as she let him take total control.

Briefly, Jack paused what he was doing to lift his hand, just enough that Alice could easily see the slick that coated his fingers. “Look at how wet you are for me. You’re practically dripping.” He rubbed the slick between his fingers before spreading them for emphasis, letting it dribble off his fingers. “I’m the only one who can make you like this, Alice… you’re so wet and needy for me and only me.”

Alice brought her free hand to her mouth and bit her lower lip as she stifled an embarrassed sound. “Jack…”

In one easy motion, Jack slid his fingers back inside of her, eliciting a moan that she muffled behind her hand. “Hey now, there’s no need to hold back, sunshine,” he teased, all the while pumping his fingers in and out. “Don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear every pretty moan you make for me. I want you to scream my name so that the whole world can hear just how much you need me.”

“Y-you’re such… such a p-perv today,” Alice said, her voice broken up between pants and moans.

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at the feeble mock protest from Alice. “Oh? Well, something tells me you like it when I act this way, sunspot.” He disrupted the rhythm, stroking at a quick and irregular pace to elicit jolts of pleasure through her body that made her yelp and shudder. “Just look at how well you’re taking my fingers. You keep squeezing them like you never want to let me go.”

Alice struggled to come up with a wry retort despite her embarrassment, but the pleasure made her thoughts hazy. He kept ramping it up only to slow down as it started to crest, leaving her helpless but to ride out the waves of pleasure he stirred up inside her. “Jack you’re just… unnh…” A sudden jolt caused her to nearly buckle, but his grip held her firmly in place. “Fuck yes! There, right there!”

“That’s it,” Jack said in a near growl as he teased her sweet spots without mercy. “Just tell me what you want, what you need… and I’ll give it all to you. Only you.”

“O-only me,” Alice repeated shakily as she turned to look at him.

In her hazy blue eyes Jack saw her desire for him, but beyond that there was also a different sort of need. His heart squeezed in return when he felt that old scar of hers ache, and his expression softened before he kissed her deeply, pouring all of his love and desire for her into it.

“Only you, Alice,” Jack agreed between ragged breaths once they came up for air. “I’m only yours… forever. I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you t-too,” Alice said, “Ja-Jack!” His name turned into an animalistic cry that tumbled from her lips as Jack suddenly redoubled his efforts to pleasure her. He pumped his fingers into her without mercy, forcing out all thoughts but for him and all the love he gave to her in every sense of the word.

“I love you so much, Alice,” Jack said in a low, husky voice beside her ear as he drove Alice closer and closer to the edge. “I love you, only you, forever. I love you, Alice. You’re the only one I want, the only one I need.”

“Ja… J-Jac…ack!” Alice whimpered before finally it turned into a wordless scream of love and pleasure as her world turned to white.

“There we go,” Jack cooed against her skin, kissing her sweetly as she rode out the tsunami of pleasure that washed over her. “That’s it… cum for me, sunshine. God… you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and all for me…”

It was only as Alice was coming down from the high that she could understand the sweet praise he murmured in her ear. She turned back to him, exhausted and out of breath, but her blue eyes burning with emotion. “All… for me…”

“All for you,” Jack repeated gently before he and Alice shared a brief but tender kiss. “I’m yours and only yours… just like you’re only mine, Alice… forever.”

“Forever,” Alice sighed as she snuggled up against him and basked in the gentle afterglow.

Her slight movement brought her attention back to the hard length nestled between her legs that had been patiently waiting for her all this time. It twitched against her still sensitive skin, hot, hard, and so very eager. Alice turned to look at Jack, and saw his eyes smoldering like burning embers, filled with promises that their night of lovingly marking their claim on one another had only just begun.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #My Writing #My Art

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

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Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 3

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.

In this chapter: After finding Sharon in Madripoor, you learn about the creator of the soldier serum (Based on S1 EP3)

(PART 1) (PART 2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,457

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3, violence, strong language.

Once you arrived at Sharon’s you were itching to get out of the costume Zemo cooked up for you.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.” Sam gawked at Sharon’s place which was full of art work and collectables.

“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I’ll get for a real Monet?” Sharon shrugged as she lead you through her gallery.

“Easy...Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.” Sam didn’t believe her as he stared at the artwork.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Zemo defended Sharon as he followed her.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky informed Sam.

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” Sam pulled out his phone and started searching a nearby paining.

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Bucky teased him for it.

“No shit.” Sam muttered as the realisation hit him.

“You guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon beckoned you along to which you were silently thankful for.

Sharon was kind enough to let you look through her vast collection of clothes until you picked out something you liked.

“Hey... You okay?” You asked softly.

You and Bucky were alone with your backs to each other as you changed in one of Sharon’s many rooms.

“I’m fine.” Bucky replied quietly.

You knew he wouldn’t be fine after having to act like the winter soldier again. You watched him at that bar. He didn’t hold back when he attacked those men.

“Buck, you know you can’t lie to me.” You tried to keep it light but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“I’m not.”

You didn’t push.

“Hey, will you zip me up?” You asked after stepping into your dress. You didn’t turn but you could hear Bucky’s footsteps as he approached you.

You felt the cold of his fingers brush against your back as he slowly zipped up the dress.

You turned when the zip reached the top.

“Thanks.” You whispered.

Bucky’s eyes were burning through you as he admired your choice of dress.

“You look beautiful.” Bucky murmured, his eyes taking in every detail.

“You scrub up quite nicely yourself.” You smiled as you admired Bucky in the suit Sharon had given him. You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach as you thought about a possible normal circumstance Bucky could wear something like this. Like a date.

“Come on.” Bucky took your hand and lead you to the door that would take you back to the others.

“It’s alright. I’m gonna sort my hair out. Running through Low-town didn’t exactly do it any favours.” You retracted your hand and returned to the mirror. Bucky hesitated didn’t question you.

“What’s going on with you and Bucky?” Sharon’s voice filled the room as you heard the door open again. “Thought the two of you’d be together by now.”

“We’re coworkers. We’ve always been coworkers.” You were wary of Sharon’s new found attitude.

“Oh please. You two have wanted to jump each others bones the whole time I've known you.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you as she slump down on the love seat beside you.

You remained silent as you brushed through your hair.

“Oh come on.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “You two have never?”

“No.” You said almost too quickly.

“Well it’s only a matter of time. I don’t know why you are dragging it out so long.” Sharon sighed dramatically as she picked at the fabric on the settee.

“I don’t know why everyone is so invested in mine and Bucky’s relationship.” You spun around to face her. “You. Sam. Steve. You all poke and prod but you don’t take into consideration all the factors.”

“No you don’t take into consideration that there’s only so much time before one day you’re shot or killed or you have to go on the run and never see him again. You need to grow some balls, (y/n).” Sharon didn't bother sticking around after that.

You groaned and closed your eyes.

When you finally decided to rejoin the group, they were discussing Sharon’s status in Madripoor.

“What’s going on, Sharon? You don’t ever wanna come back home?” Sam asked as he put on a shirt.

“They’ll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn’t allow extradition.” Sharon replied pretty matter-of-factly as she walked over to her desk.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but after the Blip and the chaos, I just––” Sharon cut Sam off before he could explain himself.

“––Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo felt the need to jump in.

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked.

“Don’t get me started.”Bucky grumbled.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” Sharon smirked as she sat down beside Bucky.

“Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” Bucky said as he looked over at you.

“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” You took the initiative to change the topic back to the reason you were here in the first place.

“You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety.”Sharon warned you as she shook her head.

“We know it’s a risk, but we won’t leave until we find the one who cracked the code.” Sam took the chair beside Sharon as he spoke.

“We got a name. Wilfred Nagel.” Bucky told her.

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” Sharon informed you as she stood to pour herself a drink.

“We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared.” Sam offered.

“You haggling with my life?” Sharon smirked again.

“Not like that.” Sam shook his head.

“I don’t buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name.” Sharon leant back against her bar.

“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right. What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.” Sam approached her with his good old puppy dog eyes.

“I heard that.” Bucky frowned, unimpressed by Sam’s use of example.

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon sighed.

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your name cleared.” Sam offered his hand.

“Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I’ll see what I can find.” Sharon took the deal.

The party seemed to suddenly start.

Within minutes the whole place was jam packed. Music suffocated the space and the smell of sweat and alcohol was growing.

You stayed in between Sam and Bucky as you walked single file through the gathering. You reached back and linked fingers with Bucky’s to make sure you didn’t get parted in the crowd.

As the bar came into view, you felt a hand grab your ass.

“Hey!” Bucky took hold of the stranger and slammed him against the nearest wall. Holding him by the throat.

Sam was there to diffuse the situation in a second. He placed a. hand on Bucky’s shoulder to pull him away.

“Lay low remember.” Sam repeated what Sharon had told everyone over the blaring music.

Bucky released the creep and stepped back.

That gave you enough space to send your own punch. The man cried out, sliding down the wall and cradling his gushing nose.

“Looks like she does not need help.” Zemo chimed in.

You all left the guy without drawing too much attention to yourselves.

The music wasn’t exactly your taste and you knew that it definitely wasn’t Bucky's but that didn’t stop you from taking him away from Sam and Zemo.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked you.

“Got a bit boring just standing there, no?” You smirked.

“You can’t expect me to dance to this, can you?” Bucky grimaced at the pulsing beat that classified as music.

“You can try.” You smirked as you brought yourself closer to the man.

You moved your body to the music, smiling widely him as he awkwardly tried to sway to it.

“I thought you were a good dancer?!” You teased Bucky as you watched him.

“I was!” Bucky defended himself. “When the music was Louis Armstrong and Glenn Miller!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the man before wrapping your arm around his neck.

“You gotta move a bit more like this.” You tried to show him, taking his hand and placing it on your hip.

Bucky was starting to look a little less like a grandpa as he got into the groove of it.

His eyes were locked on you, a small smile on his lips. He looked undeniably handsome.

“I think you’re getting it.” You leant up by his ear to tell him.

“Well, we can’t look any worse than Zemo.” Bucky pointed through the crowd where Zemo was dancing.

You burst into laughter at the sight of the war criminal dancing and buried your face into Bucky’s neck. Bucky laughed next to your ear. It was a rare genuine sound that sent tingles through your head.

“Come on.. Let’s get some water.” You left the dance floor and rejoined Sam by the bar where he had started to speak to some other guests.

Sharon approached you a little while later with some good news and so you all immediately left the party.

“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam stated as you arrived at the location of Nagel.

“They know how to party.” Zemo agreed.

You followed Sharon through the shipping container yard as she searched for the right one.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” Sharon stopped and pointed over to a red container. “All right. He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

“You want me to stick around out here with you in case you run into trouble?” You asked her as you all took an ear piece.

“I’ll be alright. I’ll call if I need any back up.” Sharon dismissed your offer before walking away.

You all entered the container cautiously before Sam contacted Sharon.

“Hey, Sharon. You sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty.” He was right. To the eye, it was empty.

“Positive. It has to be.” Sharon replied.

You shared a look between Sam and Bucky as Zemo felt around the. back of the container.

Suddenly, it shifted and a hidden door opened.

Soft music played from below along with a muffled voice.

It has to be Nagel.

Sam, Bucky and you all went in armed.

You silently negotiated between each other which urged Sam to go ahead and cut the music. Nagel spun around at the intrusion.

“Dr. Nagel?” Sam inquired.

“Who are you? What do you want?” The man wasn’t intimidating and didn't seem to have any weapons around him but you had learnt in the past not to underestimate your opponent.

“We know you created the super-soldier serum.” Sam informed him.

“Get out of my lab.” Nagel demanded pretty boldly considering Sam was the one with the gun.

“Hey! You know who he is, right?” Sam asked as he caught the shocked look on Nagel’s face at the sight of Bucky. This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right? You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.”

“How about a counter proposal? Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”Nagel smirked.

“Guys, we have company.” Sharon’s voice whispered through the ear piece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go.”

“I’ll go up.” You lowered your gun from Nagel and went to turn when Sam stopped you.

“No, we might need you.” Sam meant he might need your powers.

“But...” You gestured to your ear.

“She didn’t ask for back up.” Sam argued.

You sighed but listened to Sam.

Bucky moved Nagel over to a chair. He held his gun to the man’s temple.

“Here’s your counter offer.” Bucky shot next to Nagel’s head which worked wonders to make him talk.

“Okay. Okay. I was brought into HYDRA’s Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When HYDRA fell, I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system. After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do. But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.”

“How have we never heard about this?” You asked, your eyes flicking over at Sam.

“Because… Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. Then when I returned, it was five years later, program had been abandoned, so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.” Nagel explained.

“How many vials did you make?” Sam asked.

“Twenty. Karli Morgenthau stole those, so I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.”

“Where’s Karli now?”You stepped forward, rolling up your sleeve as a warning.

“I don’t know where she is. But a couple of days ago, she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.” You took a mental note of the name Nagel mentioned.

“Well, what happened to her?” You pushed

“Not my pig. Not my farm.” Nagel shrugged.

You looked back at Sam with a look asking if you should check if he's telling the truth but Sam shook his head.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky asked.

Nagel sent Bucky a deep glare but Bucky’s gun brought forth the answer.

“No.”

“Now what?” Bucky asked you and Sam.

“Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” Sharon bursted in, looking a little battered.

All of a sudden, Zemo pulled a gun out and shot Nagel.

“No!” Sam cried out

You lunged forward and reached for the man’s arm. If you could catch his final moments of life leaving his body you could still get the memories but as you hand touched his skin all you saw was darkness.

You screamed as you went blind.

You felt a pair of hands pull you up from the ground to which you could only assume was Bucky.

“What did you do?!” Sharon gasped at Zemo’s action.

“I can’t see, Buck.” You felt your whole body go limp in his arms as you muttered those final words before you passed out.

When you felt your eyes open again, you were out of the container. Gun shots were muffled in your eyes as you heard Bucky and Sam arguing.

You were covered in dust and you didn’t have your gun.

“Where’s my gun?” You asked. That’s when the boys realised you were awake.

You only managed to crawl over to Bucky to take it from him and start to fire.

Your aim was off from how exhausted you were but the adrenaline was there enough for you to get a good few shots in.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you as the firing stopped. Zemo was busy taking out the remaining bodies so it gave you time to sit back again.

“Not really.” You shook your head. Your body felt cold and darkness still clouded the corners of your vision. It’s what happened when you tried to get the memories from a dead body, all you could see and feel is death. Your powers only worked on living people or people close to death.

“Come on.” Bucky lifted you up, tucking his arm underneath you to keep you steady on your feet.

You only lasted being half dragged/half running before Bucky picked you up. You hated being carried but this was a life or death situation.

“Buck!” Sam shouted as some more bounty hunters appeared. Bucky put you down and you fell against the container door as he used a broken off pipe to fight them off.

“Let’s go!” Sam tugged you both inside.

Bucky kicked open the back of the container so you could escape, only for you to be met by Zemo in a swanky getaway car.

“Supercharged.” Zemo gestured to his ride.

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told Zemo.

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo asked.

“He’s right. We need him.” You tried to speak but your throat was hoarse.

“And there’s only three of us, and at least 20 of them.” Bucky added.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again...” Sam warned him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo stated. Not that he was to be trusted.

Sam helped you into the back seat. There was concern painted across his face.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” Sharon sighed as she placed her hands on the car.

“Come back to the States with us.” Sam tried to persuade her.

“I can’t. Just get me that pardon you promised me.” Sharon reminded him of the deal they made.

“Thanks for everything.” Sam nodded. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.” Bucky shook his head.

You laughed weakly as you remembered the same conversation back when Steve was still around.

Back on Zemo’s plane, you took a position on the small couch with Bucky. You were resting your eyes but trying to stay awake as you listened to the boys talk.

“Donya Madani. She’s a refugee, yeah.” Sam had contacted Torres about the woman Nagel had mentioned. “Call me if you get a hit. --- Thanks, Torres.”

“You okay?” Bucky asked Sam as Sam slouched down.

“Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through. And Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. Just makes me wonder how many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”

“Well, it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.” Bucky looked up from cleaning his hand.

“Yeah, I get that. All right. Maybe I made a mistake.” Sam confessed.

“You did.” Bucky agreed with that statement and so did you but you kept your eyes closed.

“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should have destroyed it.” Sam didn’t say what you expected.

“Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from him myself.” Bucky turned to face Sam as he spoke. You felt the couch shift.

Sam then got a call with the information on Madani.

“They found Madani… Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go. I, for one, am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.” Zemo’s voice was the last thing you remembered before waking up at landing.

“Hey sleepy head.” Bucky whispered quietly. He’d rather be caught dead than let Sam hear him say that.

“Have we landed?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “Come on.”

It didn’t take too long to get to Zemo’s place but when you did, Bucky decided to break away.

“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky announced before you entered the building.

“You good?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded as he stepped away.

“Be careful.” You warned him.

You knew Bucky needed his space sometime but now wasn’t the best time for him to just be wandering the streets. Especially if Walker clocks on it was you three that broke Zemo out of prison.

“Always.” Bucky winked at you before finally leaving.

But that was a bad feeling in your gut.

(PART 4)

Bucky Barnes Tag List

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16@shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch@thefandomimagines @mydarkness-itsnotmyfriend @sad-huffle-nerd @glitchingghosts @themaddies-obx @avenging-parker @delilahsdaydream @felicityofbakerstreet @purplewcrld @opheliaaaa

#Bucky Barnes imagines #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier imagines #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan x reader #Sebastian Stan imagines #the winter soldier #falcon #Sam Wilson #Zemo #imagines #series #some sunny day #part 3

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

.raw

Word count: 1.3k

Warning/s: this chapter is pretty tame ngl. very toxic relationship dynamics, bit spicy, references to sex, dark!bucky x dark! reader, obsessive/manipulative tendencies, cyber and irl stalking (usage of tracking device), food and eating were mentioned several times

A/N: thank you @unsaltedalmonds for the idea of IT!Bucky wearing this shirt lmfao

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

The lunch rush is starting to pick up when you came into the restaurant Bucky had told you. The chitter-chatter of the patrons along with the live acoustic band drones on as you sit by the bar waiting for him.

It’s nice. The mood is casual and the atmosphere is light. Maybe if the al-fresco dining area isn’t too crowded, you’d pick a sunny spot.

Catching your reflection on a glassy surface, you fix your appearance, hoping that it isn’t too much or too little.

“You look great, don’t worry.” A voice behind you perks up and you turn—Bucky.

A genuine smile finds itself on your lips, “thanks, Bucky. How long have you been here?” You let your eyes gaze upon his form. Black bomber jacket, zipped up all the way, tight skinny jeans, and scruffy boots. He swapped his dress shirt with something casual and it’s somehow driving you nuts already.

He gestures backward to a free table a few feet away, “long enough to get a seat for us.”

Bucky then sees your eyes flick outside by the restaurant’s patio, “unless you wanna go al-fresco?”

“Oh my gosh,” you almost even give yourself an eye roll for that, “no—no, it’s okay. We can stay here.”

“C’mon, it’s okay. I’m sure someone would be willing to switch with us.”

Before you could protest further, Bucky already flagged down the hostess. Giving his best smile and a minuscule head tilt, he speaks, “Do you think we could get a seat out there? I think fresh air would do us good.”

Like any other woman—hell, even men—wouldn’t be able to resist Bucky and his charm, “yeah! Of course, anything for you and your girlfriend.” The hostess looks at you and beams, prompting you to smile back.

Do you even try to dismiss that claim when you caught how Bucky reacted?

—

Peals of laughter slip past your lips as Bucky unzips his jacket, revealing a tasteful shirt underneath, “Bucky, oh my god!”

He throws an apologetic look around as you keep laughing, your hands hitting the table repeatedly.

“Can you keep it down?” Even he was chuckling a bunch, “in my defense, I need to do my laundry.”

You calmed yourself down only to laugh again, happy tears springing to the sides of your eyes.

Bucky wants to relive this is forever. Making you laugh and cry from laughing too much.

Is this what love feels like?

Your presence to him is like ecstasy.

He never wants to leave your light.

Everything about you is addicting.

And the way you didn’t even try to dismiss when the hostess called you his girlfriend—you want him as much as he wants you.

—

Lunch turned into afternoon snacks and snacks turned to dinner.

You and Bucky almost went and turned every food place upside down, the waistbands of your pants getting snug as the sun sets by the avenue.

“I’m so full, oh my god.” You jokingly rubbed your tummy, sipping boba as you walked side by side.

“Says the person drinking boba tea?” Bucky smirks, his hair fashioned into a low bun, showing off his side profile, much to the delight of people passing by.

He’s a walking Greek statue and you’re with him.

Bucky makes you feel loved. Enough. Seen. Validated.

Is this what love feels like?

You in his presence feel like a warm hug.

Bucky changed you forever.

A rather rushing pedestrian knocked shoulders with Bucky, causing him to stumble back and you to hold him steady, “you good?”

He seemed pissed, the crease between his eyebrows prominent, “yeah. Sorry, I’m okay.”

And then there it was: the tug of something unknown yet strangely familiar. The sound of the traffic ceases as you and Bucky both gaze upon each other’s eyes, only drifting to the other’s lips.

The moment has never been this perfect. Fuck all your romantic comedies starring Kate Hudson, this is your story now.

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky asks tenderly. His hand brushing your hair away from your face.

“Yes.”

Without a moment’s notice, your lips met.

—

Hand in hand, you walked the streets feeling like you’re on the clouds. Sweet smiles, bashful giggles. Normally, you would protest against stealing kisses but not when it’s him.

“This is my place,” Bucky says, pointing towards a mid-rise apartment complex. The neighborhood wasn’t new to you; you often find yourself walking these very streets early in the mornings.

You haven’t had the moment to appreciate his art pieces when Bucky suddenly pinned you against the door, shutting it roughly as soon as you stepped into his apartment threshold.

His lips finding yours, nibbling. The kiss was anything but sweet—all teeth and tongues.

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited to do that.”

“Like a month?” You quipped, tugging the collar of his tee. Your arms draping past his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips.

“Yeah, sure, let’s say a month.”

Having you in his studio apartment was meant to be. You in his space was written in the stars. He can almost see you waking up on his bed with him cooking you breakfast. Making you a cup of coffee now that he knows how you like it: with cream and two sugars.

You took a seat on his large office chair and a vision of you riding him suddenly floods his brain. Hey, now’s not the time.

Him shaking his head into resetting sent the wrong message, “oh. I can’t sit there, or…?” You pull yourself up, metaphorically hitting yourself in the head for making such a presumption.

Maybe he’s that kind of person who doesn’t like someone all up in their space. Then why would he take you here?

“No, no, it’s fine. I just—don’t you think it’s a bit late?” Bucky forces a smile, rubbing his palm across his nape. The warm feeling was suddenly pulled out of him. Now he’s just standing in his house with an acquaintance.

You suddenly felt small, minuscule, and very, very stupid. “Oh. Yeah, uh, I should probably get going.”

“What about a drink?” Bucky’s internally panicking now, he didn’t mean to insinuate the intent of leaving.

You shook your head, straightening your posture as you gathered your thoughts. “I can call a ride, it’s no worries. Got tons of stuff to do anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all Bucky said. He wasn’t really sure why he’s apologizing or what it is for.

—

The door clicked closed and Bucky bolts to his workspace, closing down the applications that will implicate him.

He closes all applications but one, a tracking dot. He installed one on your work phone just in case you needed his help and can’t reach out. You’d never know who’s a sick fuck in these days.

Bucky shoots you a text but instead, he got a phone call.

Hey.

The sound of the road was muffled on your end, but nonetheless, the car was moving in the right direction.

I’m so sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to...intrude. I just—I really like you, Bucky. I’m sorry I was too forward.

I… Bucky tries to play with time as he chooses his next words carefully, I like you too but I think we’re going too fast.

Your end was quiet, save from the ambient noises.

I guess so. Let’s keep things professional and friendly first, okay?

Okay.

I gotta go, I’m at my place.

The line went dead without as much as a goodbye.

Liar. Why would you lie to him? You have at least fifteen minutes more to go.

Why would you lie to him? Didn't you just say that you liked him? The way you said it was so casual—like it didn’t bother you that you were lying to him. Raised like a liar, die like a thief.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst

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bomberqueen17 · 2 years

Text

make art or die

it’s a gloomy wednesday-- actually i just went and looked, and i think it’s actually sunny out today but since i cannot see the sky from anywhere within my workplace, i’m just assigning gloom to the day so i feel less shitty about that--

and this morning i was struck with this sudden like all-over-my-body feeling that if I don’t make some fucking art I’m going to fucking die

I’ve got two hours of work left before I can act on that so maybe I will, this evening.

Unrelatedly, but in another contribution to the current all-consuming malaise that’s either anxiety or I chronically have to poop, my older sister emailed the family cheerfully and was like “unfortunately, on no notice, i am irrevocably fucking up all family holiday plans, now and for the future!” only she said it like, cheerfully and without any apparent real regret.

The part that absolutely fucked me up is how she was like “but we can do Christmas together next year!” which like

that is not how this works, oh my god, this is not how any of this works, i have a very strict every-other-year thing with Dude’s family, and there is no amount of notice in the world that is going to make it work out for me to just switch years, this is-- Dude’s mom flies to California on alternate years, and this is a California year, and next year we’re with her and the other grandparents of that nephew fly in from Texas, this is how it has worked for at least twelve years now, there are so many people reliant on this that I simply can’t even begin to ask to change.

This is entirely because Older Sister’s mother-in-law cancelled her turn at Christmas one year for a sick dog, which like, that’s a bummer, but you can’t just swap in next year, you are not the only person, but she’s been giving Sister hell about it ever since, and-- anyway I discussed this in exhaustive detail with that brother-in-law last month while he was helping build the cabin, and anyway I said flat out in those exact words “i cannot change which holidays I spend where, it’s not something I have any degree of flexibility on whatsoever”

and Older Sister was cheerfully like “and maybe we can hang out for New Year’s!” and

i have an elderly cat, who needs twice-daily medication. Dude’s mom is the only person we can have cat-sit. If she is in California (which she is this year, that’s why it’s a Home Christmas instead of an Away Christmas) then she cannot do that, so we have to board the cat. The boarding place can’t reliably get her to eat her medicine. So we can’t really leave her very long; a week is the longest I’d be comfortable with.

I cannot spend Christmas at mom’s and then New Year’s at Sister’s.

It is one OR the other.

If we are doing new traditions and it’s New Year’s now, well I would really have liked to be consulted about that, I have a lot of considerations I’m going to have to factor in, and also I had already kind of made this year’s plans, it is mid-November already. (Sister had opened the email with “ah but we’re coming up for Thanksgiving!” which like. [that’s the fine grains of the thing, whichever family isn’t getting christmas gets thanksgiving.] Dude’s mother has already purchased food and set a menu because Thanksgiving is effectively given travel constraints next fucking week.)

I texted Mom about this, trying not to be dramatic, and Mom was like “did older sister not contact you first?!?! she said she was going to!!!”

No, Mom, she did not.

Anyway I spent all last Christmas periodically going and hiding in my mother-not-law’s bathroom to cry, because Dad had died suddenly four days beforehand and my mother had told me not to come home, so I did not get to see him before they cremated him and I did not get to see the family until later in that week so I spent the week of Christmas crying alone at home, and I spent a lot of the times I was hiding in the bathroom on Christmas thinking about how at least next year we’d get to do that difficult first Christmas together, and so anyway. Maybe my response to this is disproportionate but I argue it’s somewhat warranted, maybe?

I sent an email saying the quiet part loud and said I’d have to see what I could shuffle to attempt to accommodate this, and that at least since I don’t have kids it’s only me that’s getting let down, because YOU KNOW that is why everyone is going to think it’s fine to jerk me around, you just KNOW that’s what it’s about.

Anyway I cried in the work bathroom about it just now, what are you gonna do. This year’s theme is apparently crying in bathrooms.

(I was trying to send a calm, professional message about it and then get on with my life but Mom responded and it destroyed whatever composure I had about ti so guess what we’re just gonna Feel Bad today, and Older Sister likely won’t look at her phone until after I’ve gone to bed because that’s how her schedule has been lately and I feel for her, I do, but also, I could punch her.)

I don’t know how people with real problems survive them, I tell you what.

#area woman has no chill #about the author #whining #tw grief

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

when stars align

a/n: this is fluff wrapped in unnecessary plot. my bad.

summary: star gazing date

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

pronouns: she/her

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

Spring came very suddenly this year. Many students had feared that there wouldn't be sunny weather to look forward to after exams ended, but the clouds parted on the last day, and there was a great hurrying to the castle grounds and enjoy a well deserved break. Quite a few students had taken to soaring around the Quidditch pitch, throwing around a Quaffle and chatting about summer plans. As you made your way out to the courtyard, absolutely determined to forget about the entirety of your Astrology exam, a very handsome owl came swooping down from a tree nearby to land on your shoulder. You quickly accepted the very small square of parchment clamped in its beak, and recognized it as Draco's eagle owl. You smiled at the bird, gave it a quick pet on the head, and turned the parchment piece around. In very tidy writing, it read:

Meet me at the courtyard? 8 pm. Send an answer back - Draco

"Date night?" a voice behind you said. You swung around to see Daphne Evergreen's eyes peering over your unoccupied shoulder and grinned.

"Seems like you know the answer to that question already, Daph."

"Sure do. Will you let me do your hair? I saw a Ravenclaw with a really beautiful half up half down kind of look and it'll really be gorgeous on you. Pity I could never pull it off."

"Don't lie to yourself," you said, swinging your bag off your shoulder, "bangs do grow out you know. And yes, absolutely." The owl readjusted its footing and tugged on your hair, as if telling you that it didn't have all day to listen to two girls talk. You walked quickly off the path, said goodbye to Daphne with the promise of meeting her in the dormitory in a few minutes, and dug around your school bag for a quill and ink. Unscrewing the bottle, you sat down on the grass and wrote back,

Answer is yes, pretty boy.

Draco's owl immediately snatched the parchment out of your hand, and took off towards the owlery.

time skip to 7:50

"Daphne you're brushing too hard," you muttered as she tugged forcefully on your hair. You two had been planning your outfit for about 4 hours now, taking a 30 minute break at 5 to shovel down perhaps the fastest dinner you had ever eaten and running right back up to the dormitory.

"I've never ever seen your hair with this many knots. Have you been crawling around some underbrush? There's a twig in here. How could you have possibly gotten a twig in your hair?"

"I don't know? Maybe it was Draco's ow- OW! Daphne, please, my head's attached to the other end of those strands! Couldn't you just use some Sleekeazy's? There should be a bottle in my drawer."

"NO! It'll ruin your natural waves!" she cried, frantic. "It's 7:52 already! You're due in 8 minutes! And we've still got earrings to choose and you didn't say which shoes yet!"

"I'll do without earrings! And I thought I said the oxfords were fine!" you answered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as Daphne tugged harder still.

"Hang on, just give me one second, I'm nearly there, you've just got this big lump that I've been trying to get through this past half hour."

With the hardest tug yet, Daphne undid the knot, pulling out quite a few hairs in the process, and let out a very tired cheer. You stood up straight and turned back at her.

"Okay, well you've got your top," she said, dropping the brush and moving forward to tuck the black scoop neck into your jeans, "jeans, necklace looks fine, hair looks gorgeous, and do you want to borrow my purse? It'll fit th-"

"Daphne I'm just going to the courtyard! What do I need a bloody purse for?" You half-yelled, massaging a very sore spot on the back of your head.

"You're right, you're right," Daphne said as you stepped into your oxfords, "well then off you go! It's 7:56, you've got plenty of time. Tell me all about it when you get back!"

"Yes, of course. Bye, Daphne!" You shouted, already half-way out the door.

The trip out to the courtyard seemingly took less than a minute, but in your hurried state, there was no way you counted the seconds properly. It was almost completely empty, with only two or three pairs of students still playing gobstones. You spotted Draco, and immediately felt a rosy color creep over your cheeks.

Draco was wearing a white button down and some neatly pressed black pants, an attire that looked suspiciously like his school uniform without a cloak. No complaints were had though, as he looked impossibly handsome.

A large, grayish green picnic blanket had been set down on the floor. Several puffy pillows had been layered down on top of it, alongside a very big, very fluffy blanket.

He turned around, a very expensive looking bouquet of flowers in hand, and gave you a quick smile before striding towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

You blushed and placed a kiss below his jawline before entwining your hand in his. He gestured towards the blanket—"after you, dear"—and the two of you sat down.

"This set up looks lovely, Draco" you said, readjusting to face him.

"I'm glad you're impressed by my effort" he replied, handing you the bouquet. It was a darling little thing of daisies, baby's breath, and lavender. Pixie dust sparkled on each flower. "I'm sure you want to know what I have planned for today?"

You leaned closer to him, and answered mockingly, "What is it dear Draco? Do tell me!"

"Star gazing."

You leaned back and and noticed a small telescope placed beside a pillow to your right. Knowing his absolute disdain for Astrology, you smiled. "Why the sudden change in interest?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be romantic. And anyways, stars are pretty when they aren't for analyzing. Come here, the sun's about to set." He pulled you fully onto his lap, facing away from him, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

The sky was indeed dimming, brilliant strokes of orange turned pink, then purple, and finally gave way to an inky night sky. You had settled very comfortably, head against his chest, as his chin rested on the top of your head. The big blanket covered you both, and as you sat up, reaching towards the telescope to get a closer look at what seemed to be Scorpius, a very sharp "Malfoy!" startled the both of you. Professor McGonagall was storming towards you.

"What do you two think you're doing? It's nearly a quarter past ten and I feel the need to remind you that that is past your curfew. 5 points from Slytherin, and you best both be hurrying back to your dormitories."

Completely abandoning the picnic things and apologizing briefly to McGonagall, you two ran back towards the Slytherin common room, slowing only when you reached a familiar stone wall.

"Serpentine," you muttered to the wall, which then rumbled and shifted so that a corridor that lead to the common room appeared. As you walked down the passage, you thanked Draco for the flowers and date.

"It did get cut short, but it was very enjoyable. Thank you for planning it." You gave him a smile, a peck on the cheek, and made to turn for the girls' dormitories, but Draco grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the boys'.

"Dray, what are you doing?" You hissed, "Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise are probably sleeping by now."

Draco looked back at you with a signature smirk and continued to drag you up the stairs, leaving you with no choice but to follow.

He opened the door to his dormitory to show it completely empty.

"They've got detention today. Convenient."

"Draco! You gave them detention?"

"Well, I didn't really give them detention, I just gave them the opportunity to be given det-"

"Alright, alright," you muttered, coming to the conclusion that one nights' worth of detention for the boys couldn't be that bad. You drew open the curtains next to Draco's bed, revealing a tall, arched window and the starry night sky, framed like a painting behind the glass.

"This view is incredible," you breathed, snuggling into Draco's bed, which smelt like cologne and mint, resting your head against the headboard, and watching Draco rest himself beside you and lay his head on your chest. He turned so that you both were facing the window, and then wrapped his arms securely around you. One hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his lower back, you turned to look at the stars with him.

Each was dotted with precision into the inky background, looking nothing like a nature of the universe and everything like a craftsman's work of art. You'd heard so many people marvel at those that shone brighter, more captivating to the eye, but to you, it was the small little specks that were worth more. They filled the gaps that the larger ones couldn't, and made the skies irregular and breathtakingly beautiful. Stars move, so that no night sky is ever the same as the previous, and maybe it was that Draco was by your side, but no combination of stars had ever presented such a beautiful picture before.

"Draco, you see those four stars? How they're in a line?"

Draco looked up sleepily at the window, muttering "pretty" before slumping down again.

"Prettier than me?" You laughed, pushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.

"Nothing's prettier than you, baby, you know that." He muttered drowsily, rolling onto his back so that he could look straight up at you.

You leaned over and brushed the tip of your nose against his. He hummed softly in response and wrapped two arms around your neck, bringing you into a kiss.

"I love you," you whispered after breaking away, shifting yourself out from under Draco so that you two were now eye to eye.

He pulled you onto his chest. "I love you too baby. And I'll get you another bouquet tomorrow since todays' is probably wilting as we speak."

You giggled softly, and with the promise of, you both promptly fell asleep.

pov switch

When Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise entered their dormitory after two hours worth of scrubbing the floor, they found Draco entwined with a certain girl, her hand in his hair, his wrapping her close and snug against his chest. The curtains next to Draco's bed were still drawn open, so that the uncountable stars winked down at the couple. The boys knew better than to wake them up, so Goyle drew the drapes around the four poster closed, and they headed off to bed.

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therealvikingstrash · 2 years

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- most images used are from Pinterest two (the ones with Dianne and Gaia together) are from @castvikings site -

In celebration of @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 's birthday- Happy Birthday again! -, these Moodboards I couldn't really decide which one to take and a cute little Christmas fic (under 1k!) are my entry to your Winter Birthday Challenge. 💕 I hope you can tolerate it, even though it is no Hvitty content😅

Apple Traditions

As the door fell shut behind her with an almost inaudible click, Þorunn felt like all the stress and pain was leaving her body in a single breath. Finally home, she took off her scarf and heavy coat, followed by the snow stained boots to reveal her fuzzy socks.

Ever since she broke up with Bjorn, she shared an apartment with another lost soul she met at work- Yidu. Her roommate was very strict when it came to keeping their living quarters nice and tidy, something Þorunn was not known for but despite their differences, they got along fine.

The smell of baked goods and music drew Þorunn nearer to the living room whose door was slightly ajar and she slowly opened it fully to reveal colorful Christmas lights and decorations everywhere- a little Christmas tree had been put in the corner by Yidu and she found the culprit on the couch as she took in the scene before her.

With her family being long gone and Yidu's own far away in a different country- they might as well not exist- Þorunn thought she wouldn't celebrate Christmas at all. The last time had been at the Lothbrok's and Bjorn tried to manipulate her into doing what he wanted, while his mother just watched on.

Yidu's face lit up in excitement, "You're home!" she said joyous, "I made cookies and decorated our home." With a wide gesture she pointed at the room at large. Our home, those innocent words caused Þorunn's eyes to water with upwelling emotions. If only Yidu knew that Þorunn had developed feelings for her. Never before she'd been in love with a woman, but her roommate's sunny personality and beautiful laugh- including the cute snort she did- had caused her to fall hard.

"It looks really pretty…" Þorunn said, pushing her sad feelings down to let her smile take over. "Did you do all this on your day off?" she asked and got a proud nod in answer.

"I wanted to surprise you! So...surprise!" There was a little spring to her step when Yidu crossed the short distance to Þorunn, picking up a little red box that had stood on the coffee table as she went. "This is for you."

They had let the twenty fourth of December go by without acknowledging it since they both had to work crazy shifts at the hospital. Þorunn had not thought of buying presents in the least and here she was, being given a warm home with the sweetest soul in front of her. "But I don't…"

Yidu silenced her with a wave of her hand. "Just open it," her roommate said, suddenly looking a little nervous. "If I didn't read it wrong, this won't end up horribly embarrassing for me."

Curious as to what Yidu might've bought her, she rounded their couch and sat down to carefully open the box. "An apple?" she asked with a furrowed brow, an amused smile creasing the corner of her lips.

Her roommate and friend laughed a little, "Yes, it's a Chinese tradition called Ping'an Ye to gift an apple to your friends and l-loved ones." Yidu stuttered, taking the seat next to Þorunn. "You have to take it out to see the whole present." She instructed and Þorunn followed her words suit.

I love you, was whittled into the red skin of the apple. The carvings looked a little botchy, but it told Þorunn her friend had done this herself which caused her heart to stumble even more in affection. "Are you...in love?" she wanted to make sure as she tried to make eye contact with Yidu who shyly nodded her head, but didn't meet her searching gaze.

"I'm sorry it doesn't look as good, I had to cut it myself," her friend said with a nervous chuckle, "You Norwegians have no service here like in China. It usually looks artful and pretty. I can show you a picture-"

This time it was Þorunn shushing Yidu, her fingertips briefly touching her friends lips and then making way over Yidu's soft skin until Þorunn was gently holding her face in her palm, "It's the most beautiful apple I've ever seen." Her thumb caressed her friend's cheek before she slowly leaned in to kiss Yidu's lips, giving her enough time to back away if it was too forward. A soft brush of their lips later, Þorunn moved back again, "I feel the same way." she stated, in case her action hadn't made it clear already.

It wasn't long before Yidu attacked her with more kisses in answer, gone was her insecurity and fear of rejection, causing them to end up in a tangle of limbs on the couch, giggling and kissing to their heart's content.

"I got one question," Þorunn said, as she held Yidu, caressing her arm tenderly. "What am I supposed to do with that apple? Should I eat it or...I don't know...keep it? Letting it rot seems like such a waste." she mused, feeling Yidu's lips place a tentative kiss to her jaw.

"You can eat it, moron, but first let me take a picture with you holding it," her newly acquired girlfriend told her, "I want to send it to my brothers to gloat."

Þorunn sighed in defeat, this wasn't new, Yidu always had some sort of competition going on with her siblings, "Of course you do."

This year was the best Christmas so far and Þorunn had an inkling that in every following year it would be just as sweet as long as Yidu was by her side. She swore to herself to practice carving apples for next year in order to surprise this beautiful soul in her arms.

Hope you liked it at least a little! And yeah, I might write more for this pairing, because I kinda dig it. If it's not to your liking I can probably whip up something else 😅

#cherry's winter bday #deans ch ch cherrypie #writing challenge #Þorunn x Yidu #Yidu #Þorunn #fluff #christmas theme #vikings au #modern au

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davidfarland · 3 years

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ADDING A LITTLE LIFE

When you’re describing a setting, it’s important to bring the scene to life. Part of bringing a scene to life, though, is to explore how your character feels about the setting.

I was watching American Idol once and Randy Jackson said something that you will hear over and over again when anyone discusses any art form, yet he said it simply enough to make it profound. He said, “The purpose of a song isn’t just to show off your skills, go through the riffs and croons, it’s to transmit emotion to the audience.” You have to make them feel, in order for the experience to be genuine. This is true in painting, it’s true in singing, and it’s true in storytelling.

TRANSMITTING EMOTION ISN’T HARD

It can be done by fairly inept writers whose only skill seems to be in building interesting characters and conveying scenes just enough so that the reader is transported. Any bestseller is doing it. But you can take it to a higher level.

Ultimately, with every pass, every rewrite, you need to ask yourself, “Is this the right choice of words, images, and scenes to make the reader feel what I want? Have I selected the right details?”

Please note, some of you may argue with this. There are those who believe that stories should transmit ideas. Others will say that their purpose is to transmit culture. I will argue strenuously, though, that in order to transmit ideas, ideals, or culture, you must first transmit emotion—love, fear, longing—to the audience. Why? Because without experiencing powerful emotions as a catalyst, the reader will not recall the ideas that you’re seeking to transmit even a few hours later. Emotion is the catalyst that fixes an idea into permanent memory, as current research is showing.

SO HOW DO YOU TRANSMIT EMOTION?

Part of the key is to recognize that everything you describe—a room, a car, the local park—is colored by your character’s mood. So you pick details that reinforce the desired emotion.

In one early writing exercise, I was asked to describe my living room in a paragraph. I did. I talked about the sun slanting in through the windows, washing everything in gold. I wrote about the daffodils my roommate’s girlfriend had left for him on our table.

Then I was asked to describe the same room, only after having just returned from my best friend’s funeral.

Which details will you describe? Which do you leave out? A room that seems sunny and warm one moment, suddenly becomes dead and gray the next. The daffodils on the kitchen table now seem brown and desiccated at the edge of their petals. The fly on the windowsill looms larger than the sunlight. The jumping spider sidling toward it now seems the centerpiece of the room.

EMOTION FIXES CERTAIN DETAILS OVER OTHERS

Have you ever had a conversation with someone that you suspect dislikes you? You hear all of the nuances in his or her voice. You recognize when you’re being disparaged. Yet the person standing next to you doesn’t catch it at all. They’d report the conversation differently.

So in order to write a scene, you must first transport yourself emotionally. You have to feel what your protagonist—the lens through which the story is transferred—is feeling, and then report the details that he or she would emphasize, using language that transmits the emotion.

For a nice example of how this is done, look at the opening page of Hemingway’s “The Big Two-Hearted River.” In them, a fire has recently ravaged a forest, and the land is thick with black grasshoppers, which a fly fisherman uses for bait. Notice how “black” is repeated, which nicely reveals the inner blackness that, Nick, the protagonist, is feeling.

Some authors in the literary tradition insist that you should “show” emotions, not tell. So they choose details that reveal the inner emotions of the characters, as Hemingway did.

Of course, as an author I recognize that not all of my readers will be sophisticated enough to understand those clues. The reader might be too young or too distracted to recognize them. Or maybe for some reason—certain cognitive issues—the reader just isn’t skillful at hunting down those clues.

DOES THIS WORK?

So is it all right to actually “tell” the reader how the character is feeling, too? For example, is it all right to say, “Jenny just loved Nate?”

It’s pretty weak, and the more that you do it, the lamer it sounds. But I would argue that it is all right, if you don’t lay it on too thickly, or too directly.

For example, instead of having Carolyn recognize that, after just one date with Nate, she’s in love, you might have her humming at work the next day, and have her co-worker say something like, “Sounds like love.” That gets the message across just fine.

In the same way, internal dialog can reveal a great deal about your character’s emotions, without being too “on the nose.”

IN CONCLUSION

If you do decide to write about emotions directly, make sure that you reinforce them. You can’t just say that Carolyn loves Nate, we need to see justification. Maybe she likes the way that his lips barely curl up under his cowboy mustache when he sees her. Maybe she likes the way that he stammers and takes off his hat when he tries to talk. Maybe she sees the loneliness in his eyes, and it echoes her own inner void. Maybe it’s the smell of Wrigley Spearmint gum on his breath, every time she meets him. Maybe it’s the way that he talks about his ranch in Wyoming, and the tenderness in his voice when he speaks of his polled Hereford prize bull, and his dreams of creating a “real herd.”

Simply put, as you create your setting, try to imagine how your protagonist feels about you setting, and then put your emphasis on the details that best depict that emotion, that scene, and bring both to life. Have fun with it.

Happy Writing!

David Farland

This week on www.apex-writers.com NYT Bestselling Author of the Burning Glass series, Kathie Purdie willl be speaking to the Apex Writers’ Group on Monday. Her topic will be “Raising the Stakes”.

On Saturday, Gama Ray Martizen, author of the Goblin Star saga will be our guest.

Live and past recorded Apex Calls are one of the many membership benefits that are included with your subscription at https://www.apex-writers.com/

#writing #writers #writing tips and tricks #writing coach #writing mentor #writing lessons #writing advice #writing help #author #editor #creative writing #writeblr #writbl #nanowrimo

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yandere-society · 3 years

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The Devil in the ICU

Pairing:

Synopsis: You’ve rarely spoken to your neighbor Jimin, but he’s always been kind to you. When you get into an accident that lands you in the ER, you’re grateful to see who’s taking such good care of you. It isn’t until later that you start to wonder… will you ever be leaving the hospital?

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Blood, murder/death, yandere themes, stalking themes, needles/IVs

Admin: @psycho-slytherin

Request:

How did you wind up here?

As you slump back into your bed, with him lying on the floor next to you, a hazy thought informs you that it must look like a scene straight out of Romeo and Juliet.

Although, you think ruefully, glancing down at the sharp shard of glass clenched in your fist, I don’t think Juliet would have done this.

“Merry fucking Christmas.”

~Three weeks earlier~

Taehyung, leaning against the doorframe with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, looks as handsome as the day you married him. “Have a good day at work!”

You give him a quick kiss, shivering in the brisk morning air. “You too. Remember that we have that dinner tonight!”

Tae laughs. “Is that what we’re calling the awards ceremony? You know you’ve earned bragging rights.”

“Shush!” You boop him on the nose before turning and making for your car. On the other side of the fence, you can see your neighbor Jimin step out onto his porch. He catches your eye and, as Taehyung goes back inside, you smile amicably and nod at Jimin before getting into your car. You see him at his front door every morning, and he’s always friendly.

On your drive to the university campus, you think about tonight’s dinner. You’ll be presented with an awards for Arts Education despite being one of the youngest professors in the university’s faculty. You were thrilled when the dean of the school contacted you for the honor.

Once you park, you speedwalk to your first class of the day and burst through the door. You soon find yourself looking at twenty students, some bright-eyed, some more zombie-like.

“I’d apologize for being late,” you say, “But at this point I don’t think anyone is surprised.” The more awake students laugh, and you sling your bag onto your desk at the front of the room. “Let’s get started. Yoongi, you’re up first for workshop. Why don’t you stand up and read?”

Of all of your students, you think Yoongi is the most likely to pursue his career in creative writing.

He nods and stands. You can see his hands trembling as he clutches the paper.

When he sits back down after reading his poem, there’s a smattering of applause. “Very nice,” you say. “Now, who’d like to offer their feedback?”

~~~

Hours later, you dismiss your last class. You can’t wait to go home and tell Taehyung all about your day.

“So this one kid really decided the best move, instead of asking for an extension, was to plagiarize Twilight. Fucking Twilight!”

Taehyung laughs as he buttons up his shirt. “What did you tell her?”

“Ugh, I hate to report anyone for plagiarism, I told her to write something new and turn it in for half credit.”

“No wonder your students love you. I think you’re personally responsible for all of the creative writing majors on campus.”

You finish zipping up your dress. “Probably. Let’s get going, yeah?”

“Your wish, my command,” Taehyung says, gallantly bowing you out the door. You giggle as he opens the passenger side door for you. “For real, Y/n, want to get away for a weekend to celebrate? This is a nationally recognized award!”

“Hm…” you pretend to think. “Maybe we could go somewhere warm and sunny, with lots of beaches.”

Taehyung interlaces his fingers with yours, lifts your hand to his mouth, and kisses your palm. “Whatever you want. Christmas is coming up, maybe we can travel somewhere for the winter.”

You smile and look out of the window as Taehyung begins the drive. The ceremony is being held at a hotel twenty minutes away. And in a few weeks, you’ll be spending Christmas with the love of your life somewhere warm.

Under the twinkling night sky, everything feels so peaceful. Suddenly, you see a flash of light overhead. “Tae! A shooting star! Look-”

BANG. You hear the sound of crunching metal, feel a violent jerk, and everything goes dark.

~~~

“When she wakes up, start her on 20 milligrams of morphine. If her blood pressure is still low, go ahead and add saline to the IV. She shouldn’t need a transfusion unless anything opens up again.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Doctor. Are you in the hospital, then? Was there an accident? “Ugh…” You blink hard in the blinding light. You’re woozy, and your mouth tastes like copper.

“Y/n! Doctor, she’s awake!” You hear a familiar voice, and feel a hand grip your own.

“M-Mom?”

“Y/n. Thank heavens, you’re awake.” Your mom’s voice is strained and thick, as though she’s been crying. When your eyes finally focus on her, she’s sniffling, and her eyes are bloodshot. She’s wearing a formal black dress – did she come straight from the ceremony?

“What happened?” You croak.

“You were in an accident,” your mom says, her voice breaking. “A bad one. We weren’t sure if you would make it.”

You wince. That doesn’t make sense, and the cost of a hospital stay isn’t in your budget. “Where’s Taehyung?”

Your mother is silent for a moment too long, and you feel your chest grow tight. “Mom, where is Taehyung? He was in the car with me!”

“He… he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry,” your mom whispers. “The doctors did everything they could.”

No. “You’re lying.” Of course she is, she has to be, he’s your husband, he can’t be gone. “Don’t lie. He’s fine.”

“Y/n, baby…”

“No!” You weakly pull your hand from her grip. Angry tears form and begin to spill down your swollen, tender cheeks. “You’re lying!” Please, you beg inside your head, please be lying. Not Taehyung. He’s healthy, strong, smart, he has to be fine.

You can see unshed tears shining in your mother’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“We weren’t going that fast,” you say desperately. “It can’t have been bad.”

“You broke a leg and a rib, fractured your collarbone, and punctured your lung,” Your mother says quietly. “They said you were lucky to have no brain damage.”

You sit back, stunned. It’s true, you’re wrapped in bandages and the parts of your skin that you can see are black and blue. When you lift the blanket, you can see a small clear tube protruding from your chest. Still, it’s impossible. You had only been driving for a few minutes. “What happened? The accident?”

“I-It was a hit-and-run,” your mother responds shakily. “They T-boned your car and drove away. There were witnesses, but no cameras and nobody got a license plate. They put out a notice for the car.”

You swallow. Despite your injuries, it seems like you’re unable to feel anything at all. Please, no…

There’s a soft knock at the door. “Y/n?” You look up and through the dark fog in your head you feel a tinge of shock.

Standing in front of you, wearing blue scrubs and a mask, is… your neighbor.

“Jimin?”

Jimin nods. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I just need to adjust your IV – are you in pain?”

“No- yes.” As soon as the word escapes your mouth, feeling spills back into your body. Fuck. Suddenly you can’t breathe, your chest feels like it’s on fire, and your leg… “It hurts really badly.”

“Let me increase the morphine dosage.” He steps towards the machines and IV to which you’re hooked up and fiddles with some buttons.

Your heart feels as though it’s stopped on Taehyung. You refuse to believe it, and so you refuse to grieve. “I didn’t know you were a doctor,” you say to Jimin. Your voice sounds like a robotic copy of itself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your mother glancing at you with worry.

“I’m not, I’m a nurse,” he replies.

“You take good care of her, you hear?” Your mom says to Jimin, clearly understanding your silent signal not to bring up Taehyung. She was lying – he has to be fine.

Jimin nods firmly, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Yes, ma’am. She’ll be up and about soon, but for now she needs rest.”

As your mom rises slowly from her chair beside your bed, she grasps Jimin’s hand in hers. “Make sure she’s okay.”

“I will.”

Once your mom leaves, your eyelids feel heavy. Your brain is foggy with distorted thoughts of Taehyung. Why can’t you remember anything? “What time is it?”

“Three in the morning,” Jimin supplies.

That surprises you. “It’s been hours.”

“It has.” “Do you know what happened to the awards ceremony?”

“The… what?”

Of course he doesn’t. Why should he? You sink as far as you can into your pillow, wishing only that it would suffocate you. It feels like there’s an all-consuming black hole in your chest, clawing at every part of you. Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung.

“I’m sorry about your husband,” Jimin says gravely. “I met him several times. He was a very kind man.”

“He’s not gone,” you reply stubbornly. He can’t be. “I just need to get better and get home.” Tae will be there.

Jimin pauses. “We’ll do our best.”

“Thank you.”

“The doctor will be back in soon,” Jimin adds. “I can give you something to help you sleep after.”

“Oh, you’re an angel.” After everything that’s happened, you don’t think you can ever sleep again. At least, not until you’re with Taehyung. Surely, the doctor will be able to tell you the truth.

The doctor comes in, a middle-aged Black woman who introduces herself as Dr. Greene. She walks you through your injuries and the path to recovery. “Luckily, they could have been a lot worse,” she says, eyeing your chart appreciatively. “You should be discharged in two weeks, give or take. After that, it’ll be a while still with your leg in a cast. You’ll have to come back for more check-ups. And as soon as your lung heals, we want you to start physical therapy to counteract all the bed rest. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Where is my husband?” You ask desperately. Behind Dr. Greene, you see Jimin’s face has turned stony. “He was in the car with me, his name is Kim Taehyung–”

“Your husband has passed away,” the doctor says simply, quietly. “I’m sorry.”

At last, with this authority figure having sealed his fate, you allow yourself to cry for Taehyung. Loud, animalistic sobs tear from your chest until your abused ribs and lungs can’t support you anymore and you collapse, screaming silently into hands that hurt to lift.

“Y/n…”

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair! It should have been me.” The two of you were only on your way to the dinner because of you. It’s your fault. Your fault. Your fault. “It should have been me!”

You feel fingertips lightly touch your aching shoulder. From his earlier position near the doorway, Jimin is suddenly right next to you. “No, it shouldn’t have. And it’s not your fault, Y/n,” he says.

“Grief is natural and necessary, really, for the healing process,” Dr. Greene adds. “But Nurse Jimin is right, you shouldn’t blame yourself.” She looked back at her chart. “Jimin, you’re on call for the night, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Keep an eye on her pain levels. Y/n, if you’re uncomfortable or need anything during the night, press this button and Jimin will come check in on you, alright?”

You nod numbly. You don’t care. You hope you do die during the night, so you can at least be with Taehyung.

Jimin leaves and returns in what feels like both an hour and two seconds, holding a clear bag full of liquid and a bottle of pills.

“Take one of these to help you sleep. This is for your blood pressure – it’s still low – and we’ve added more morphine.”

You simply hold out your hand for the bottle, shake out a pill, and swallow it down without water. Why would you need water when the love of your life is gone?

“Remember, press the button if you need anything,” Jimin says. “I’ll be right here for you.”

“Mm.” You turn over as much as you comfortably can and almost immediately fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

If only you were so lucky.

The crash. The moment of the shooting star. Over and over and over again.

“Y/n! Come on, baby, wake up!” You can’t see anything, but you can hear his voice. “They’ll be here soon, you have to hang on for me, okay?”

“Help! Somebody help! No, she’s worse than me, hurry up!”

“Miss? Can you hear me?”

“Shit, he’s coding!”

“Y/n?” You feel yourself being gently shaken, and still half-dreaming, your body gives a great shudder from the accident. “I’m sorry to wake you. I just need to take your vitals.”

“Blue,” you reply, barely able to form the word. You saw it. “The car was blue.”

When you look up, you realize that it’s not Jimin, but a nurse you’ve never seen before. She pauses for a moment, clearly perplexed, before she blinks.

“Oh! You were in a car accident?”

“The car was blue,” you continue, scared to lose the thought. You’re a professor of writing at a top university, you should be able to express yourself more fluently. But your words seem to escape you before you can capture them. “License 7-H-L.”

“Oh, my… the nurse looks around before grabbing a pen clipped to her scrubs and scribbling the numbers onto a notepad beside you. “You’re a regular detective!”

“Where’s Jimin?” You ask. You don’t know this new nurse, but at least you trust Jimin.

“Oh, his shift ended,” she replies. “He’ll be back tonight! In the meantime, can you tell me how you feel?”

“I’m… dizzy. My heart…” You can hear it pounding hard in your ears, far too quickly, and leaving you lightheaded. Your whole body hurts, centralized in your leg and chest, far worse than last night.

“Your blood pressure must have gone back to normal, let me get that saline off for you. How’s the pain? Your morphine should have worn off by now.”

You wince. “Bad.”

“Okay, I’ll adjust that.” The nurse fiddles with your IV before turning back to you. “I think your mother will be here soon. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Actually… can you tell her not to come?” A wave of guilt tries to wash over you, but it’s overpowered by the darkness already inside. “I just want to sleep today. She shouldn’t bother.” You pause. “I don’t want any visitors.” “Ah- sure thing, whatever you’d like,” the nurse chirps hesitantly. “Oh, and… what happened to your hair?”

“What do you mean?”

The nurse points. “You’re missing a chunk of hair, I’m guessing from the accident. Hey, maybe when you get out you can try a new style!”

“Yeah, maybe.” You lay back down and stare at the ceiling, wishing only that it would fall apart and crush you. What’s the point of anything without Taehyung? But… what about your students, your classes?

The day passes in a blur, and your intermittent napping keeps you barely aware of your surroundings. You don’t dream of the crash again – it’s a blessing, but at the same time you wish you could remember the rest of the license plate. You finally awaken for real once dusk has settled on the hospital.

You press the button, and immediately Jimin is in your room. “What can I do for you, Y/n?”

You take a deep breath. “Can you please bring me a pad of paper and a pencil?” You were a teenager when your father passed away, and writing was the only thing that saved you then. Perhaps it will be your healing salve now.

“Sure, there’s paper right-” Jimin pauses beside your bed before handing you the pad of paper. “Here, sorry. And you can use one of my pens. How are you feeling?”

“Groggy,” you reply. You’re surprised by how weak your grip on the pencil feels. “Numb. It hurts, but…”

“I’ll make a note for the doctor. Don’t worry, I promised your mom that I’d help you get better. Your lung should be healing soon,” Jimin says. “But I need to change the bandages on your chest tube, if that’s okay?” “Yeah.” You forgot it was there, the clear tube coming out of your chest. It’s held in place with bandages, which Jimin carefully removes before cleaning off your skin and placing new ones down. He’s wearing a silver locket that you’ve never noticed before. It suits him, shining against his skin.

“Thank you,” you say as he finishes taking your vitals.

“I’m happy to help.”

The next week passes in a blur; between crying fits for Taehyung, assuring your mother that you’re alright, scribbling down everything on your mind, and forcing yourself to sleep simply to avoid the reality of waking hours, you barely have a second to consider your own healing process.

It isn’t until Dr. Greene beams at you that you register: physically, you’re feeling a lot better, and after a week of bed rest and god awful depression, you’re ready to try hobbling around.

“Looks like you might actually get out a few days early,” Dr. Greene says. “We’ll be able to remove that chest tube tonight.” Beside you, your mother begins crying with relief.

“Wonderful.” It’s still hard to smile, but you manage a weak attempt. Later that day, you hear a bit of commotion in the hallway, and soon the nurse brings in a huge basket of cards, flowers, and stuffed animals.

“Woah… what’s all this?” With effort, you sit up and take the offered basket. The sweet smell of the flowers is a welcome change to the cold sanitation of the hospital.

“From your students!” The nurse says happily. “Some even sent you books!”

“Aww, they’re sweet.” You flip through one of the books and notice that all your advisees have signed the title page and scribbled well-wishes in the margins of the chapters. Their kindness and love sparks your first real smile since the accident.

You spend the day reading, counting down the hours until your chest tube is removed. When you’re finally wheeled to the OR and numbed up so they can sew the hole in your chest shut, you feel relief. Your leg is still in a cast, but at least your body is fighting for you.

That night, you’re drifting off to sleep when you feel a painful tugging on your chest, right where your stitches are. “Mm?” You blink sleepily and see Jimin’s silhouette standing over you.

“Ah, Y/n. I’m sanitizing your wound so it heals well, don’t mind me. How are you feeling?”

“I’m a little sore,” you reply honestly. “It’s not too bad, though.” “Let me fix that for you.” You can see Jimin’s dark figure change something on your IV. “That’ll help you feel better.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling sleep begin to overtake you.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/n.” That night, your dreams are choppy and chaotic. At one point, you dream that your body is on fire; at another, you’re back in the accident but instead of Taehyung, it’s Jimin. The sun has barely risen before you bolt upwards. “Gah!” Your throat is burning, dry, painful – it feels like you’ve swallowed sand.

It must be extra early, because Jimin is still there. He rushes to your bedside. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“I- who are you? I need… water…” you croak, your vision swimming before you. You don’t know who this man is, and you don’t know where you are. You can vaguely feel yourself falling backwards.

“Okay, let me get you some- wait, Y/n!”

~~~

You awaken with Jimin, Dr. Greene, and another nurse standing over you. Packed in bed beside you are several ice packs. Even so, you feel your body sweating.

“What… happened?” You manage. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth.

“You woke up with a bad fever. It’s lucky Jimin thought fast and worked to cool you down.” Dr. Greene said. “We’ll have to keep you monitored for longer than we anticipated.”

“W-Why do I have a fever?”

Dr. Greene’s brows knit together. “I… I’m not sure. We’ll keep an eye on you for the next couple of days and see if anything changes.”

Your fever goes up and down throughout the day, occasionally spiking dangerously enough that the monitors around you begin to beep in alarm. Around noon, Jimin comes in with water and a bottle of pills. He’s wearing a lopsided Santa hat along with his scrubs.

“Merry almost-Christmas. Here, take two for the fever.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask weakly. Even in your fever-addled mind, you remember he only comes at night.

“My shift changed. You need more urgent care anyways, and I volunteered.”

You swallow down the pills and nod. “Thanks.”

“Your bruises have improved,” Jimin observes, lightly touching your face.

“I guess. Fuck.” You feel the sudden urge to douse yourself in cold water. “I just want to get out of here.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment. “Have they found the car that hit you?”

“How would I know?” You feel a wave of dizziness hit you, likely brought on by a heartbeat that never seems to slow down. “Jimin, please…” Save me.

“We’ll see how you’re doing tomorrow,” Jimin says. “For now, you should stay awake. What’s your favorite color?”

“Uh, green.”

“Favorite food?” You can barely think. “Sushi.”

Jimin grins. “Favorite neighbor?”

You try to summon a chuckle. “Whichever one is saving my life.”

“Fantastic. I’ll see you later tonight. Your mother should be in here soon – let me adjust your pain meds, we kept you off of them from the fever but they might just help.”

The night feels eternal; you can’t sleep a wink, and your mother stays with you the whole night. Your fever continues to climb and although at first your breathing is rapid to cool you down, by the time the sun rises it feels as though your lungs have stopped working entirely. You don’t know if that’s normal for a fever.

“Doctor!” Your mother calls for what feels like the thousandth time.

Dr. Greene hurries into the room, Jimin right behind her. “Is it her fever?”

“No, it’s…” Your mother points wordlessly at your hands. You can’t see what she’s talking about, but when you raise your hands you see your fingertips are blue. You can’t think. You can’t breathe. You don’t care. Everything is fuzzy, so fuzzy… the monitors are beeping again, but you can barely hear them. You’re gasping for air now, choking on nothing. You can’t breathe.

“Doctor Greene,” Jimin says loudly, “I think she’s overdosing.”

“Lord, you may be right. Get the Narcan!”

Jimin darts out of the room and returns just as your eyes begin to flutter closed. Taehyung…

~~~

There’s a cliff. Taehyung is there, you know it. You just need to jump. The moment you start walking, though, it’s almost as if you’re being pulled away from the edge. No! You open your eyes. Has it been minutes? Days?

“Dear god,” your mother says breathlessly. “She’s awake.”

“How on earth…?” Dr. Greene wonders, wiping her forehead. “Jimin, props to you for your quick thinking. But an overdose? How?”

“Doctor, it’s possible that with her weakness and weight loss, plus the fact that we held off the morphine for several days, an average dose might have caused her to OD.” Jimin suggests. His voice seems to carry more authority than even Dr. Greene’s.

“Yes, perhaps… but the fever?”

“Hm…” Jimin reaches forward and prods at the stitches on your chest. You immediately flinch, your raspy voice yelping in pain. “An infection. Possibly blood poisoning.”

“You know, you really might be right,” Dr. Greene says thoughtfully. “It’s not impossible. Okay, we’ll start you on an antibacterial and switch to lower-grade painkillers.” With this note, Dr. Greene and Jimin file out, leaving you with your mother.

“Momma, did you ever find the car?” You ask, gripping her hand urgently. The owner of that car killed your husband; you want them brought to justice.

“No, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“What about the license plate?”

“Well, none of the witnesses saw it-”

“No,” you shake your head. “I- the nurse wrote it down. On…” you point to the notepad beside you. “The first page.”

Your mother picks up the abused pad of paper, filled with random journal entries and doodles, and flips to the front. “Y/n, there’s nothing here. It’s blank. Maybe you dreamed it?”

“What? No.” You’re sure that the nurse wrote it down for you. “Check on the floor.”

After a brief but thorough search, the paper doesn’t turn up. What had happened? You can’t possibly remember the partial plate now. Shit. And even so, it was a literal fever dream – you could have made the numbers up.

“Y/n, I’m going to go for an early Christmas dinner at Aunt Ella’s, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Sure, mom.” She’s barely slept, after all.

The next several days pass and you gradually begin to recover. The lab tests confirmed your blood poisoning, and you feel more grateful than ever that Jimin managed to catch it early – it could have killed you. It’s now been more than two weeks since the accident, and finally the doctor tells you that you’ll be ready to go home soon. As Christmas approaches, you’ve heard holiday music float through the air and bows and wreaths appear in your hospital room and down the hall. Even with the holiday cheer, the loss of the license plate weighs heavy on your mind.

“Merry Christmas Eve! Time to get up and try walking around!” The afternoon nurse says cheerfully as she helps you out of bed. With your heavy green cast making your leg feel detached, you clunk around while holding the nurse’s arm. You near the window, which overlooks a parking lot decorated with dirty snow, and gaze down onto the cars. Can you ever feel safe in a car again?

“Which one’s yours?” You ask the nurse absentmindedly, suddenly struck by another bolt of grief. Her life is normal. She has a car and goes to work.

“That white one right there next to the blue Prius,” she replies, pointing. You mindlessly follow her finger, when suddenly –

Blue. You clutch at your chest and stumble backwards, nearly falling if she hadn’t caught you. “That’s…” No, it can’t be. But in your heart and deep, deep in your memory… “Can you read the plate number on that blue car next to yours?”

“Uh, it’s a little too far away,” she replies, squinting. “I think it’s Jimin,’s though, I always see him pulling in just as my shift is over.”

Jimin. “Does it look dented at all?” You manage. “His car?”

“Ah… a little? I’m not sure.”

Jimin does have a blue Prius, you know that from seeing it in his driveway every day. So why, today, did the thought strike you so violently?

“You know, I think I’m tired. I’m going to lay down.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want some water or to go to the bathroom?”

“No. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” The nurse looks worried, but leaves you settled back in your bed. Night falls quickly and you hear a knock on the door. Jimin lets himself in, a bottle of pills in his hand.

“Hey, I heard you’ll be getting discharged soon,” he says cheerfully. He’s still wearing the Santa hat.

Blue. “Yeah, hopefully.”

“Awesome. Well, you need to take these,” he says, shaking two pills from the bottle in his hand and handing them to you.”

“What are they for?”

“They’ll help you sleep and let your blood vessels dilate to regulate your blood pressure.”

“Mm.” You wash them down with his offered water. Almost as soon as you swallow, you feel your body rebel against you – you lean over and vomit onto the floor. The smell makes you gag and you feel everything you’ve eaten come up a second time, the stomach acid burning your throat.

“What- what did you give-” you can’t finish your sentence as your stomach convulses again. Jimin rushes over to you with a bucket and you lean into it, retching. You continue dry heaving long after your body is completely emptied, while Jimin rubs your back reassuringly. “G-get the doctor,” you croak.

“Are you going to be okay alone-?” “Yes. Please, just…” your body shivers as he gets up and leaves. What did he give you? You’re doubtless that those pills caused your vomiting. Just the thought sends you back to your bucket, although you’ve no more left to give.

“What on earth happened?” Dr. Greene says, rushing in. Jimin is close behind her.

“He gave me pills…” you gasp as your body tries to vomit again. The muscle contractions leave you feeling boneless. “They made me throw up.”

“You’ve got no known allergies on file…” Dr. Greene says, consulting a chart by your bed. “Jimin, what did you give her?”

Jimin produces a bottle clearly labelled DOXEPINE. “Just to help her sleep, she was asking for something earlier.”

Your heart drops. “That’s not-” you’re interrupted by another gagging fit. You want to scream at your body that there’s nothing left, but you can barely speak. “Not the same-” fuck.

“She must have a sensitivity to the Doxepine,” Dr. Greene says thoughtfully. “Jimin, make sure she stays hydrated. If she keeps throwing up we’ll need to keep her longer for observation.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Ngh… no…” Dr. Greene leaves before you can tell her that that wasn’t the same pill bottle.

“Here, drink this,” Jimin says, offering you a bottle of water.

“What did you give to me?” You ask, panting. As soon as the water touches your tongue you reach for the bucket, your body rejecting it immediately.

Jimin blinks innocently. “Sleeping pills.”

“Fuck off, that wasn’t the… same bottle.”

“Y/n, you’re sick and grieving, it’s understandable that your eyes are playing tricks on you-”

“No. You… poisoned me!” You summon what strength you have left and swipe at the nurse, who’s now leaning over you. Your fingers catch the silver chain around his neck, and the motion knocks the locket open.

Fluttering out of the locket and onto your bandaged chest is… hair?

No, not hair. Your hair. The color, and texture… it’s exactly the same.

You’re missing a chunk of hair, I’m guessing from the accident, the nurse had said.

Not from the accident. Almost in slow motion, your eyes travel up to meet Jimin’s.

“Y/n, you’re acting erratic.” As if nothing happened, he plucks your hair from the bed, tucks it back into the locket, and straightens his Santa hat. “I’ll have to tell the doctor to consider sedatives. Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

“No-” Your stomach contracts once more and by the time you look up, gasping for breath, he’s gone.

You spend another sleepless night in the hospital, growing more paranoid by the minute. You refuse to eat or drink anything you’re given – you’re still nauseous, and what if it’s full of sedatives?

When dawn breaks on Christmas Day, you’ve never felt less cheer. You’re concerned about Jimin; the car is surely a coincidence, but the hair? And the pills?

“Y/n?” Dr. Greene knocks on the door. “Merry Christmas. How are you feeling?”

“I want to get out of here,” you respond immediately.

Dr. Greene smiles. “We’ll see how you do moving around today. How’s your nausea?”

“Better,” you lie. Anything to leave. You can handle nausea at home.

“Wonderful. Well, Nurse Jimin will be taking care of you today, since your other nurses are off duty. Press the button if you need anything.”

You nod, shivering. Should you tell Dr. Greene? Before you can consider it, though, she’s left the room.

Hours later, Jimin pops his head in, his Santa hat crooked. The locket is still swinging from his neck.

“Hey! Dr. Greene said if you’re doing well by the end of the day, you might be discharged for tomorrow!”

You stare at him. Can he really pretend nothing is wrong? “Great.”

“Let’s get you up and walking around.” Jimin offers you his arm. At first you don’t want to take it, but your legs are too weak on your own. He slowly leads you out of your room and down the hall before circling back. You pass another window overlooking the parking lot and there, in the same spot, is the blue car. From this window, you can see much better.

“Which car’s yours?” you ask quietly.

“That blue Prius next to the white one,” he says cheerfully, pointing.

Finally, when you squint you can read the license plate: 7HLC946.

7HL. Your body stiffens. It’s the same car. Then, that means… you swivel slowly until you’re staring at Jimin, who’s still looking out of the window. He killed your husband.

He leads you back to your room. You feel frozen, and not from the wintertime. When you go inside, you hear a soft click. Your eyes widen. He locked the door.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly from behind you.

“F-fine. Perfect,” you reply, your voice shaking.

“You know, you really have to stop getting yourself in trouble,” he says, strolling to the bed and smoothing down your sheets. Your eyes dart to the locked door. If you made a break for it with your cast, he could still beat you to it. “Every time you’re supposed to get discharged, something happens, and then who has to save you?”

“I’ve recovered,” you say firmly. Is it an ego thing? He wants credit for doing his job?

“Before, you always had your husband to save you,” Jimin says, standing. His eyes are drilling holes into you. “Do you know why he’d always see you off at the door?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” “It’s so I couldn’t even look at you. He was always around, but not this time. And this time it was me that saved your life.” Jimin is advancing now, still smiling serenely. Your heart pounding, you back away, your cast clunking against the floor.

“It was you,” you whisper when your back hits the window. “Your car. You hit us.”

“Almost gave me a heart attack when I saw you remembered my plate,” he says now, examining his nails. “Lucky I saw it before your mother did. How is she, by the way?”

“You… you killed my husband!” Your scream is more animal than human when it rips from your throat. You’re fully prepared to leap at Jimin and take the life he took from Taehyung when he pulls out a syringe.

“Shhh…” he says, stepping forward. “What did I say about sedation?”

Your blood runs cold. You don’t want to know what’s in the syringe, or what he’d do to you if he injected you with it.

Caught between him and the window, you freeze. You have to get away from him. You turn around and swing your heavy cast at the window.

With a painful CRASH, the glass shatters. Shards fly everywhere, several of them catching and slicing your skin. You hear commotion outside and below as you shoot for the window and try to grab onto the windowsill. You nearly sob when the glass in your grip breaks off the windowsill. Almost… just like your dream of the cliff, though, you’re dragged back from the escape. Jimin locks one arm around your neck and pulls you away from the window.

You feel a sharp prick in your arm and, seconds later, your muscles seem to melt. If Jimin weren’t supporting your weight you would have fallen. Shit. What did he do to you?

“It’s for your own good, my love,” he says, carrying you to the bed and tucking the blankets in around you. Your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth; you can’t speak, and you can barely move your arms.

There’s a loud banging on the door. “Y/n! Are you alright?”

“One second,”Jimin says to you before striding to the door and opening it.

“Jimin! What happened?” The voice belongs to a doctor you don’t recognize.

“Hey, Dr. Kim. Y/n started being combative and went for the window. Luckily, I got her calmed down and back into bed.”

Help. Your vocal chords won’t respond to you. “Hhe…”

“Goodness. We should get her moved out while the window is being repaired.” “I agree, but she did just fall asleep and she hasn’t slept in a while. I suggest giving her an hour.”

“Alright, well, please keep an eye on her.”

“Sure thing, Doctor.” Jimin shuts the door and locks eyes with you.

“I’ve waited for you for a while, you know,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. His position pins down your left arm, but your right is still free. If only you could move it. “You never got sick, or hurt. I checked. You never even came to visit.” Jimin continues smiling, but his eyes are cold. “That wasn’t very nice. It’s your fault that I had to make you come visit.”

“Stuh… you,” you gasp, forcing your head to clear. “Psy…” Let me go, you want to scream. You’re straining with the effort just to lift your head.

“I know, I know, why didn’t I just talk to you at your house? Well, your guardian was always there. But here, I’m in control. And I’m the one that can save you.”

You can sense feeling returning to your arms. If he keeps talking, it might give you more time to recover from your paralysis. Luckily, Jimin seems so relieved that he can finally tell you everything that he doesn’t seem close to shutting up.

“Do you know how many times your mother has thanked me for saving your life? How Dr. Greene said I was her favorite nurse?” Jimin caresses your cheek, becoming more animated as he speaks. “Even you, Y/n, you called me your angel.”

You try to bite him when his hand gets close, but your jaw muscles are slack. C’mon…

“And you’re right, I am your angel. I’m your guardian angel, and I’ll always keep you safe.” You can almost lift your hand. At his words, he leans in to kiss your forehead and with enormous effort, you use the same moment to lift and swipe your bloody hand, still gripping the jagged glass from the window, at him. The glass catches Jimin right in the neck and he gasps and sputters, pressing a hand to his throat as bright red blood gushes from the wound, spattering you and staining the bed. Meanwhile, you collapse, your strength entirely spent.

Jimin staggers upright, hand outstretched towards you. When he tries to speak, his voice is a mere gurgle.

“Y/n- you… no…” with that, he falls to the floor. You see him try and fail to rise again before Jimin sighs and is still at last.

How did you wind up here?

As you slump back into your bed, with him lying on the floor next to you, a hazy thought informs you that it must look like a scene straight out of Romeo and Juliet.

Although, you think ruefully, glancing down at the sharp shard of glass clenched in your fits, I don’t think Juliet would have done this.

“Merry fucking Christmas.”

#yandere society #yandere jimin #jimin #bts #bangtan #nurse!jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #yandere jimin fic #yandere!bts #yandere!jimin

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

Note

i am looking at mafia au heromari (and to heromari in general) lovingly

ohohoho Mafia AU my beloved :DDD Honestly it's probably one of my favorite AUs that I have. I've been thinking about Hero and Mari's wedding in this AU quite a lot, and I think I'll expand on that if y'all wanna hear some more *eyes emoji* I put it under a read more because it's long. It's so long

Like I said before Hero and Mari get married at 17. It's a beautiful day in late April. Spring has fully come into bloom, and the entire town of Faraway seems to be preparing for the impending wedding. Both Mari and Hero's families are very well known, and the speed at which the wedding was put together has left a lot of heads turned and cautious whispers.

It was more than easy to arrange everything, because no one would dare to say no to participating in a marriage between these two families. Daphne and Bowen are making the cake, the dress will be the top priority of the seamstress, caterers and flowers and all of the other paraphernalia only have to hear the names of the couple, and suddenly anything is possible. Hero's parents arrange most of it, Hero and Mari simply have to say what they want, and they will make it happen. They're having the service in the local church, and then a grand reception in a rather large venue nearby, all ready in a matter of weeks.

Hero and Mari would have preferred a quiet intimate party of just their family at Mari's estate (Just Mari's now. Mari's and Sunny's) but Hero's parents persuaded them to go larger. Not only would it seem rude for the new head of a family to not invite other "colleagues", weddings are also a great chance to make deals. Hero and Mari agree with the promise that they will have a peaceful dinner once the politics are over and done with.

Hero and Mari don't really have a chance to discuss if they feel ready to get married or not. Not only are Hero's parents expecting it, but so are the rest of the higher ups in both of their organizations. It's not just a marriage for love anymore, now it's a marriage of necessity. Not getting married isn't an option unless they want to have a full blown turf war on their hands.

Mari hasn't really felt anything since she killed her father. She feels blank, not empty but grey. Sensations don't feel like they reach her. Hero knows something is wrong with his girl, but with all the preparations he barely has time to think about his own feelings on everything, let alone Mari's.

It's not until she's getting into her dress the morning of their wedding that it all hits Mari. Daphne is slowly doing up every silk button on her back, and Hero's mother is arranging a silver tiara in her hair, which is pulled up into an artful knot. Hero's mother is watching her with misty eyes, and she blames hormones. Sally is sleeping soundly in a wicker bassinet on the floor nearby.

It's Sally that brings Mari back into her body. Sally, and Hero's mother's words. You'll see when you have a baby, I probably cry as much as she does. It's just a joke, something to make Mari smile and laugh politely. Instead it sends a lightning bolt through her body, and she stiffens. Hero's mother doesn't notice. Daphne does.

Daphne makes excuses to get them alone, and she moves so she's in front of Mari. Mari who is in a wedding dress. Mari who is getting married today. She's getting married, and she will be walking down the aisle alone. She killed the person who was supposed to walk her down the aisle. She shot her Dad, and now she's marrying the love of her life. She has to marry him, and they'll have to have children, and those children will have to carry on her family's organization, and...Mari can't breathe.

Daphne leaves and promises to come back quickly with help. She finds her brother with Hero and the boys getting ready. She makes an excuse to get Bowen and Hero out of the room and tells them that something is wrong with Mari. She isn't sure what, but something is definitely wrong. They speedily and stealthily race over to the room Mari had been in, but she's gone.

Bowen and Daphne keep up their calm appearances, but Hero can see the panic in their eyes. There's only a half hour till they have to be at the church. He can feel his own heart starting to beat at a clip, but he takes a steadying breath and focuses. There's only a few places Mari would go. He sends Daphne and Bowen to stay with Kel and Sunny to keep them calm, and tells them to make sure everyone else gets to the church. He'll take care of Mari. He always does.

Hero escapes out the kitchen door of his parent's estate, sliding out the back gate and away from anyone who might ask questions. His destination isn't too far away, and he knows the route there with his eyes closed. As he walks, he thinks.

The door to Mari's house is ajar, and he shuts it behind him when he steps into the foyer. It's a lovely entrance, big and spacious with high ceilings and wide windows. But now the air inside feels stale, reminding him that the house isn't what it used to be. A fine layer of dust sits on everything, and it's cold even in the warm of the day. Mari and Sunny have been staying at his house and doing their business there. No one has come here since the night of Mari's seventeenth birthday. The house is nearly silent, except for the sound Hero had been expecting.

He walks through the hallways, to a room next to a grand staircase. There is no door to this room, so the music that is created within can ring through the whole home. Mari's back is to the doorway, and Hero's thoughts escape him when he sees her. The dress is perfect, her hair is perfect, he's never seen her more beautiful. And Mari is shaking.

He is the only one who gets to see this side of her- the vulnerable sweet girl that still exists underneath the hardened exterior. Even their siblings don't see this, only big sister serenity. Hero is the only one Mari trusts to see her fall apart.

She sits at the piano and her fingers never waver in their tune, but her shoulders are trembling, and her breath hitches. She doesn't try to hide it, she's never hidden anything from him. He sits next to her on the piano bench, slowly lowering himself down so they're side by side. They don't speak at first, not until Mari has calmed and her breath is steady again. She doesn't cry, and he doesn't expect her to. In the anxious silence, Hero finally gathers the courage to ask her the question that's been scaring him since Daphne came rushing into his room.

"Do you even want to get married, Marigold?"

The old nickname gets Mari's shaking starting again and she stops her melody, leaning her head against his shoulder. She doesn't know. Mari loves Hero, she loves him more than she's loved anyone. Even Sunny. Hero is hers, he is her person, and she is his. It just all is happening so fast, and it's for everyone else, not them. She did what she had to, and she doesn't regret it, but she didn't know what would come. She wasn't prepared for all of this.

Hero lets her get it all out, lets her talk and talk. Then when she's finally done, he talks. He agrees it's all fast. He agrees it's for everyone else, but he doesn't see that as a bad thing. It just means that he and Mari have already made their vows. They were made when she saved his family and his life. They were made when his family took her and Sunny in. They were made when they were just little ones sitting at this very piano and talking day after day.

He tells her that he doesn't care if they ever get married. For them, it's just a formality. If she wants to run, he'll run with her. If she wants to stay, he will be by her side. He doesn't need to make a vow of that, she already knows. Mari intertwines their fingers and leaves her head on his shoulder, and they sit together in the quiet. Eventually Mari tears herself away and stands up, holding her hand out to Hero.

They walk out of the house together, and down the sidewalk towards the church. The whole place is packed, and there's a large congregation waiting. Hero and Mari walk down the aisle together, neither alone, not anymore. When the pastor asks her, Mari said I Do without any hesitation.

#omori #damn this got long #idk what everybody thinks but #I like it #I enjoy the idea of Hero and Mari not really wanting to be married but doing it anyway #There's a lot of reasons #but they do it #asks #anon #omori headcanons #mafia au #hero omori #mari omori #daphne omori #bowen omori #unbread twins #bread twins #heromari

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