#or even THINK about it in my vicinity i swear to FUCKING GOD

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Stranger Danger! [Entry #1]

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Dark!Modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 3,049.

SUMMARY: Moving into a desolate, small-town suburb, you would think the risks of finding yourself in "peril" are close to none. And yet, how could you not have been more wrong...

WARNINGS: stalker!Aegon/stalking tendencies mentioned, posessive!Aegon, mentions of kidnapping, slight BDSM (spanking), Daddy kink, slight dub-con, swearing.

A/N - he literally took over my soul & there’s no going back now. when I tell you this took me forever, 4 fucking days... NO IDEA WHY I JUST KEPT GOING. ANYWAYS I had to split this HC up, because I wrote too much! So here is the first part, nearly completed the next :) hope ya'll enjoy xox

A small, simple town, nonetheless, it would suffice for you. It was inevitable that newcomers would mingle with most of the residents in a day or two, you had been advised upon your relocation.

Your case was no exception: withdrawn from your previous livelihood in the city, you wished to escape to the serenity a desolate, small-town could offer.

That was where you'd meet, Aegon... Just, Aegon [as he had ambiguously introduced himself].

Working in a minor, stuffy bookstore/cafe, many of the local townspeople often visited or dined, in which is where Aegon was introduced to you.

At first, he would dare not to approach you, though rather seek in the comfort of lurking in the noisy, bustling background as his younger brothers or sister would heroically order in his steed.

Like a dangerously ravenous predator prowling at its innocent, mindless prey, he watched you closely. Your precise movements, your ever so often-changing facial expressions, your disciplined mannerisms, your light-hearted voice. Every fine detail he saturated his senses completely, soaking himself in your vicinity, in your divine presence.

Surmising that you were a sweet, honest little thing: he fathomed and relished in the notion that you were incorrupt, all for his undoing. He'd never seen the likes of you before, and was frustrated with himself that he hadn't ever clocked you.

Aegon would often grow impatient with himself, as he observed other males conversing with you, knowing their true, carnal intentions... It made his blood boil, and yet you paid no mind, he was comforted by this, although knew his time was wearing thin.

He would eventually start to visit you every chance he could cease, even in the absence of his younger siblings. Finally building the courage to converse with you, even if it was short, simple-minded banter as you politely took his order, your voice, its tone sounded like decadent, pure honey to his ears.

He was madly obsessed with everything about you.

You could not deny on your part either: Aegon was quite handsome, with his doe, lilac eyes that enraptured you, his soft facial structure, yet also formidable. The contrast of his pale, silver hair against his fair skin, was unearthly. And Gods, did he love to listen to you. He made you feel utterly giddy, often blurting out random, cringe remarks, feeling your cheeks flash hot with blush.

Nonetheless, he continued to return to the store, coincidentally whenever you were scheduled for a shift.

Eventually, Aegon grew tempted to follow you after hours, desperate to seek you in your travels back to your humble abode. He often waited in the distance, as you closed and departed from work late in the evenings, all by your lonesome.

He'd convinced himself he was doing you a favour... Gods forbid, someone tried to attack you, he'd be your saviour, like some damsel in distress. He was being harmless otherwise.

As he fell more comfortable in this consuming routine, compulsively following you home, often making up incessant lies and pathetic excuses for his absence from home: found solace in watching you through your apartment window.

Whether it was watching you do your laundry, making a simple dinner, or prepping for bed as you'd read a book, he grew infatuated with your wholesomeness.

Although, earning even more luck, he'd caught a glimpse of another side of you, a much, much more titillating side. Attentively observing you, how eagerly your fingers ventured between your thighs, as your hips bucked forward, back arching and convulsing in swift motions. The circular shapes of your mouth, he could only imagine the lewd sounds echoing from your lips. He found himself moments later, stroking his own cock, desperately aching for pleasure and release, as he envisioned himself being the reason for your excitement.

All this entertainment however, came to an abrupt end, when Aegon found you bringing some random, strange man into the confinements of your home.

He was livid beyond words: fists clenching firmly on his steering wheel, his knuckles whitened even more against his pale skin, his jaw tense as he spied on the two of you, the way you'd laugh and grip at the man's arm. He could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

Much to his infuriated relief, nothing escalated beyond the red wine you'd generously shared. After being certain the man was completely gone, and you safe and sound in bed, he knew he had to make some sort of a move. He was adamant in avoiding this situation from repeating itself all over again, or worse...

The notion of another man taking you all for himself, was enough motive to set his plans to motion.

How it happened and how Aegon had panned it out, was all a blur initially.

You'd recognised him instantly as he slowly pulled up along the kerbside, pulling his frosted window down, as you were walking back from work. His familiar, tender smile was heart-warming in contrast to the dim, winter weather and cloudy, light sprinkle that had been hazing the day since the mane.

"You poor thing, you'll catch a cold if you wander about in this weather. I can drop you off, if you would like?"

At first you remained reluctant, out of consideration: not wanting to intervene in Aegon's plans for the day. Your meek attempts at refusing his offer however, failed, for he remained persistent.

"I don't mind at all. I have no plans or commitments, I swear it...Please, it-it's the least I can do after all."

Defeatedly you succumb to his offer, although a partial side of you is grateful that you have a reason to be out of the cold weather. Aegon leans over towards the front passenger seat, opening the door for you, like a true gentleman. You were convinced he was the only gentlemen in the town, with how chivalrous he was towards you.

As the journey began, you'd disclosed your address to Aegon, who immediately knew the directions [since having grown up here]. Although, taking a wrong turn, you initially acknowledged it at first, laughing it off. Yet, another wrong turn...

"A-Aeg, you took the wrong turn-" Glancing over towards him, that familiar, heart-felt smile began to fade as his face turned rigid to stone. Stern and stoic in his expression, he turns to look over at you with a threatening, dark tinge, before uttering the chilling, final words you would hear for the last time out in the open...

"You made me do this."

Memory hazy, you could only vaguely reminisce the moment a wet, white cloth was shoved towards your face before the darkness had closed in.

You awoke in a dingy, empty yet neatly structured basement, solid brick walls and metallic pipes enclosing the sturdy foundation of the architecture, where dense, black padding foamed across the walls and ceilings. Your breath was heavy, yet mouth taped and your movements restricted, only noticing the tight restraints around your wrists, digging into your soft flesh. Your cries muffled loudly, feeling the hot tears streaking down.

Eventually a part of the ceiling where stairs rose towards had opened suddenly, and cautiously, Aegon entered, a beaming smile across his face.

Approaching you carefully, as though you were some kind of hurt, defenceless animal that he dared not to frighten nor startle, he bespoke some "rules": no screaming, no fighting back, no disobeying and no running, under any circumstances.

"Try any of those and your punishment will be severe, understood Y/N?"

Internally, your mind raced a million thoughts incoherent to his words and yet you remained blank. Sensing the adrenaline beginning to surge intensely through your body, as Aegon began to untie the restraints, you felt yourself lunge forwards towards the steps, yet something had firmly tugged you back, causing you to grow unsteady on your feet, falling to the crowd. Met with darkness once more, your memory clouded the second time you awoke.

"What did I say? Look at what you made me do, Princess.... I told you NOT to run, didn't I? What did Daddy say, huh?"

Your head immensely throbbing with a dull pain, it took you a few seconds to settle, before realising that familiar feeling of the restraints and tight concealment of your mouth forcibly shut. Aegon's hand gripped at your jaw tightly, pulling your attention unto him, as he attempted to calm you down.

"You made Daddy hurt you... I never want to hurt you again, baby. I only want take care of you, okay?"

"Wh-What did you do A-Aeg? Wh-What have you done?"

"Only taken back what is mine."

You withdraw and grimace at his gentle touch, as he cleans your bloodied scar across your forehead, before softly applying a bandage. The faint, proud smile produced on his face as he admires his work, before his eyes linger over yours once more, the smile fades again.

"Do not think that your little defiance won't go unpunished... Daddy always commits to his word, sweet thing. You will eventually come to know this. I am in charge, you will respect this or learn the hard fucking way."

Aegon suddenly departs that very moment, leaving you lonesome to cry inconsolably for God knows how long: ignorant to the notion of time now, it felt like hours as you weakly pondered over your destitute thoughts, wondering if anyone cared enough to know or realise of your abrupt disappearance to send for help... Yet again, you were scarcely known in the neighbourhood, people barely recalled your name correctly, had you not worn your employee name badge.

Feeling your reddened, puffy eyes slowly succumbing to sleep, you had awoken instantly by the sound of the ceiling door opening suddenly, to Aegon's heavy footsteps etching down.

Without an exchange of a word, Aegon pulled a chair right in front of where you crawled up and sat, before slapping at his thigh, harshly gesturing for you to sit atop.

"Bend and lay over my lap, now-"

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire that ignited from within Aegon, you dared not to disobey. The dark, forbidding look in his lilac eyes, that you once fawned for, now frightened you into compliance. The feeling of your tense body relaxing over his sturdy, meaty thighs, you found more comfort over than the stony cold floor you sat upon for hours ago.

Without a warning, Aegon's rough palm came striking down hard against the naked flesh of your ass cheeks.

"10 spankings for my naughty girl, cause for 10 seconds she tried to run away from me-"

"2 slaps- 3 slaps-"

Reciting each total, and the shrieking cries from your behalf echoed across the empty room, feeling the skin of your ass growing number by the minute, your hands instinctively gripped at the flesh of Aegon's thighs for support. Your mouth pressing down against its side, to muffle the cries more.

"6 slaps- 7 slaps-"

"Sweet heart thought she could get away? What does she think, that Daddy will let her go that easily? I promise I'll take care of you- 8 slaps- I'll feed you, nurture you- 9 slaps- I will love you."

The final stroke stung sharply, your skin burning with the heat of the friction, it was definite Aegon took the silence to admire his handprint over your bare skin, a stifled chuckle escaping his growling laugh.

Guiding you to sit upright on his lap, you felt tense and immense discomfort as you hovered over. Tears streaming down your scarlet, tender cheek, Aegon stroked each fallen drop across your sobbing face, cooing you in his lap, as one free hand soothed at your back and the other gently squeezed at your thigh.

"Promise me, Princess... Promise me you'll never leave me. I'm the only one that can take care of you, protect you and love you. Mark my words."

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit

credit to - @saradika for the headers 🤍

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #TGC #dark!modern!Aegon ii Targaryen #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii x y/n #dark!Aegon ii targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 8 ~ Stuck Together

Warning: Swearing

Rivals to Friends to Lovers. Your mom and Dabi’s dad are getting married to one another and on the day of the wedding they lock you guys into a room so that you are stuck together because of all the fighting.

“Shut up you pompous asshole. I can’t listen to your whining anymore. Go moan to someone who actually care what you have to say.” You all but growled out to the white haired man that was smirking up at you. “They are getting married there is nothing that you nor I can do about it anymore.” You started walking away before you burst into a flaming torch. “Come on sweetheart don’t be like that. You and I both know you like my pompous ass.” He cackled out following close behind you.

“First of kindly fuck off, I am no one’s sweetheart. And secondly if I have to see your stupid face a second longer I am going to burst an artery in my fucking head.” You shouted turning red very close to committing a crime. “Ok sweetheart calm down we don’t want a crime scene on your mothers big day now do we.” He teased and he could swear there are steam coming out of your ears the longer you look at him.

“Touya for the love of God leave me alone. I just want to get this day started on a good note but you all but fucked that plan up. Go bother one of your siblings I don’t want you anywhere in my vicinity for the next few hours unless you want to die today.” You loudly proclaimed causing some of the staff members to look towards the commotion. “Sweetheart you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid and you won’t even admit to it.” As the words leave his mouth you smack him right across the face leaving a red handprint on his cheek.

Shocked at what you just did you turned around again going to search for your mom. “You did not deny it baby girl. You and I both now that I am right, you just have to admit the truth someday.” He called after you causing you to flip him the middle finger while still walking forward in search of you mother or your best friend and all Dabi could do was chuckle as he watched your retreating figure. Groaning to himself as he sees his dad walking towards him with a stupid smile on his stupid face.

“Touya.” Enji started talking to his oldest son ignoring the eye roll and the mention that he prefers to be called Dabi. “Can you please come and help me in the room with my vows I want to go over it one time again.” “Why can’t Fuyumi or even Natsuo help you with it. You know I suck at the lovey dovey shit dad.” Dabi said looking at his bulking father. “Well I asked for your help did I not. Now come on.” Enji turn around walking towards a room in the back. ‘Asshole. I really don’t want to do this shit now of all times.’ Dabi thought sulking forward following a few feet away from his dad still reeling with the feeling of the smack.

“Y/N can you please help me search for my earring I think I lost it.” Your mom asked looking around frantically for the left diamond earring she was missing. “Of course mom.” You said a lot more calmed down after arriving at your moms room where she and the rest of the bridesmaids are getting ready. “Do you know where you had it the last time you saw it?” as she thought for a bit your mom nodded. “Yeah I believe I had them on in the next room, Enji just gave it to me and I can’t believe I already lost one.”

“Don’t worry mom we will find it. I will go look if I can see it next door if not I will search for it till we can find it.” “Thanks sweetie. I am sorry for the inconvenience. I promise after the wedding I will buy you that pair of shoes you have been looking at forever.” All you could do was nod with a small smile walking towards the door. Opening it you walked to the door next to your moms room seeing it open you started walking in.

“Oh shit.” You muttered looking up at you future stepdad who just stepped out of the room. “Sorry sir I did not see you there.” You apologised giving him a shy smile. “No worries Y/N. What are looking for maybe I can help.” He questions giving you a quick smile before going back to his stoic self. “Nothing, nothing I think I just lost something in there.” You babbled out. All Enji did was nod his head. ‘Okay so far the plan is working.’  He thought walking away.

Walking into the room you immediately wanted to turn around seeing the man you just had a spat with. “What sweetheart back from more.” He asked with sass as you stayed silent not wanting your mood to dampen again. “Where is that fighting spirit now baby girl? You were all fired up a few minutes ago.” Still staying quiet not wanting to give into his teasing you looked around the room hoping to see the small thing.

“What are you looking for?” “None of your business.” You quietly said and he just nodded for once listening to your warnings. “Did you find it Y/N?” you turned towards the sound of your moms voice about to answer as you saw she had both earrings in her ears. “Mom what’s going on.” You questioned as she and Enji walked into the room. “Dad what the hell.” Dabi questions.

“We want you to work out whatever problem you have with each other.” Enji begins looking you both in the eyes. “We had enough of your fighting all the time and I think the best way to do that is to lock you into this room till you sort all this childish shit out.” Your mom ended. “For once and for all.” Enji added as he turned towards your mother and they quickly escaped the room. All you could do was stay quiet for a second before you and Touya both jumped for the door but was stopped as the door slammed shut in your faces.

“Fuck.” you both muttered staring at the now closed door. Quickly turning the doorknob to see if the door is locked and it was indeed locked. “Son of a bitch.” You whispered causing the white haired man to let out a low chuckle. “Ok fine if you think this is so fucking funny please enlighten me why the hell you are such an asshole to me.” You said turning to the stunned man who suddenly went quiet.

“Why have you been such a bitch to me?” he retorted back. “Why are you such a pompous ass?” you returned. “Because you aren’t good for my fucking mental health babe.” He spat. “Yeah your cute and all but every time I see you it is not good for my mental health.” “What.” You asked quietly. “What is that supposed to mean?” “It means exactly what it sounds like sweetheart. You are a piece of work but fucking hell you are hot as hell. Every time you open your mouth I just want to smother you with my tongue. Every time you smile I want to be the one who caused it.” He exclaimed.

“Do you know how crap it feels to have this feelings inside of me that I know won’t be returned. And when I thought I finally had a change you had to have a fucking boyfriend. Who was a piece of shit by the way you could have done so much better than that twat. So yes to get you off my mind I started being an asshole okay. That was all I could do to get you out of my head for a while and do you think it worked.”

He breathed heavily now as he looked at you with questioning eyes. And you just shook your head. “No of fucking course it did not work otherwise I would not have to be the way that I am now.” He finished and you just stared at him with a confused look on your face. “Why did you not say anything before you ass face?” you questioned him and as he was about to say something you quickly cut him off continuing.

“You could have saved me six month of a loveless relationship with a fucking twat. You could have saved yourself heartache. You could have saved me from a broken heart when I found out that asshole cheated on me. And what did you do? You turned into a hurt little boy. We could have had a relationship now but no you had to go and be an ass who doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”

“And just for your information I only got with him so that I wouldn’t have to think about you all the time too. Do you know how hard it was to see you with that girl you are always hanging out with. Not knowing if you are in a relationship with her or not. Okay sorry if I turned into a bitch but I wanted to protect my own heart, my own mental health, my own wellbeing you jackass.” You panted finishing your speech looking at the man you have had feelings for like two year now.

“Fuck baby girl do you know how long I have wanted to hear those words.” He questions pulling you close to him. Kissing you has been on his mind for a while now but just watching you so passionate about your feelings he couldn’t wait he had to taste you now. You lips met each other in the middle and as soon as they touch butterflies spread across your stomach causing your heartbeat to rise. Kissing him for a while felt wonderful and as you pulled away for a breath he pulled you further into the kiss trapping you between him and the couch.

Twisting your hands into his soft hair you started pulling the strands causing him to groan into the kiss causing you to giggle finally pulling away panting like you haven’t had oxygen in a while. “Wow.” You both whispered out giggling as you release your tight hold on each other. “Sorry for being an asshole and not realising you had feelings for me sooner.” He whispered into your neck. “Sorry for being a bitch and not realising you also had feelings for me.” You whispered back with a light giggle as he nipped your neck pulling you onto his lap as he sat down on the couch to get comfortable.     

“Sorry for the slap by the way.” You apologised giving him a shy smile. “No problem baby girl. I deserved it.” He replied with a teasing smirk causing you to smack him lightly on the arm. “And you are right about that just so that you know. I just did not want to admit it.” You whispered into his neck causing him to groan out. “Sweetheart you are going to be the fucking death of me.” He said laying down on the couch pulling you with him tickling your side as you went down. Which quickly turned into a moan as he sucked on your sweet spot on the side of your neck.

“You think they are okay in there? It’s been quiet for a while now.” your mom questioned the red haired man she was about to marry. “Either they are kissing or they killed each other.” He teased your mother with a smile pulling her into a hug. “Don’t worry baby. I know they will be okay Touya won’t actually do anything to her he has liked her for a while now.” Enji said with a small grin and she blushed smiling at her future husband. “Yeah I think Y/N has feelings for him as well.” As they heard a quiet moan they looked at each other.

“Okay! I think is about time we start getting ready.” Enji said looking at his almost wife with a soft smile. “See you at the end of the aisle baby.” He whispered into her ear causing her to let out a quiet chuckle. “See you there honey I will be the one in a white dress.” She teased him back but as they heard another moan louder this time they pulled away with a shocked look on their faces. “Maybe that help them a little bit too much.” Your mother grimaced both turning around to walk to their respective rooms.

“See you later baby.” He said as she walked into her room. “See you later.” She repeated with a small smile before closing the door grinning leaning against the door. She could really not wait to meet him at the end of that aisle later that afternoon but first she has to get ready. Hopefully you will be back soon to get ready with the rest of them.

Day 7 | Masterlist | Day 9

#y/n #fluff #reader #bnha #y/n imagines #my hero academia #female reader #mha #fem!reader #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi x female reader #dabi todoroki #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #todofam #todoroki family #fluffy june prompts day 8 #stuck together #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #todoroki touya x reader #enji todoroki x oc #enji todoroki

[crookedfandomquill]

"Hotel King" Rewatch: Episode 2

Mo Ne’s little hat is… fascinating

Lol I forgot about her bird phobia

Ah yes, Jae Wan’s ex… I can’t remember how I felt about her the first time around but she didn’t annoy me too much so let’s see how my impression forms this time around. She's written to be abrasive for sure, but beyond that I'm not sure

Mo Ne being an entire menace to everyone in her vicinity is so fun. It’s partly to cover for her Mission: Impossible-style activities, but partly because she’s a fish out of water and clearly overwhelmed by her situation

I get the sense that Jae Wan is so good at buttering up his superiors not just because of his job, but because he’s been dealing with an abusive parental figure for two decades

And the dynamic between Jae Wan and Mo Ne gains steam… I love the scene where he finds her in the media room causing trouble, and you can see the chaos of emotions in him throughout the confrontation: the anger at Mo Ne for sabotaging him, the weight of the secrets he’s grown up keeping, the budding tenderness toward the woman he thinks is his little sister as she starts crying and he lets her go. DELICIOUS

Mo Ne walking into the shareholders meeting, baby-talking English, and plopping herself down in her dad’s super comfy chair to the horror of all present: iconic

That one shareholder: “…She’s lived internationally for too long, this isn’t entirely her fault”

Mo Ne: “You’re just doing this to be petty!” Jae Wan: “Yeah, obviously.”

Mo Ne going to see her dad’s memorial… run me over, it would hurt less

Jae Wan immediately trying to defend Mo Ne/tone down her actions to the Vice Chairman… I don’t think he even knows he’s being protective

And then the Vice Chairman comparing Jae Wan to his dog… and highlighting the main reason he’s been able to control Jae Wan so completely. He has him convinced that he’s innately broken and destructive, all because he supposedly killed that guy when he was a kid, and the only way to keep himself in line is to bend to the Vice Chairman’s will. He outright calls himself Jae Wan’s owner. It’s so fucked up (I say with a sadistic writer-smile)

God, the wistfulness on Jae Wan’s face watching the Vice Chairman treat his daughter like family, like an actual person… my heart can’t take this

Woo Hyun texting Jae Wan and telling him to go easy on Mo Ne because she’s grieving… have I mentioned I love Woo Hyun? He’s not the most interesting or angsty character, but he’s a nice, gentle counterbalance to the drama’s more intense characters

And now I think Jae Wan does realize he feels protective toward her. He understands that her behavior is a mask over her vulnerabilities, and he’s more than a little familiar with wearing masks

Meanwhile, she’s swearing revenge against him in the bathroom mirror. Nothing better than a rageful pep-talk before bed

The way he looks at her cowering in her bedroom and sees himself as a child… then kneels down to comfort her… it’s not just the first sweet moment for the lead couple, it’s the moment I realized he could heal from his trauma. Because he saw his inner child and his first reaction was to extend help and compassion

#hotel king #kdrama #lee dong wook #lee da hae #drama rewatch

[notquitecogent]

baby, i'm yours now (dreaming a connection)

EDIT: A quick update to say this one is now also available on Ao3, in glorious high-definition.

BEHOLD! My first-ever (public) attempt at fic – and smut, no less! (#allin) – inspired by, and written for, the incomparable @majicmarker. It's Hellcheer. It's demisexual. It's soft as hell. It's stream-of-consciousness ADHD vibes (not my usual style but I feel like it works for Eddie's POV, which this is).

Anyway, I'm terrified of posting this (see also: the crippling fear of being known) but I'm biting – nay, tearing – through the proverbial bullet because this was fulfilling to write and perhaps it will fulfil others?? TITLE: baby, i'm yours now (dreaming a connection) PAIRING: Eddie x Chrissy (F/M), Stranger Things s4 RATING: Explicit WORD COUNT: ~4,000 CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 WARNINGS: Heterosexual sex, mild drug references, swearing, overusing italics for emphasis, run-on sentences as a stylistic choice Ok. So. It really, really wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

After nearly 20 years on Earth, Eddie was well and truly used to getting carried away; his out-of-control imagination would grab a concept in its greedy little hands and bolt – catapulting between ideas, fantasies and ever-more-complicated scenarios before he’d even had the chance to really think. 

It was an uncontrollable kind of thing, the way his brain just seemed to latch and run with it. 

And, well, sometimes it worked out; there were song lyrics (Corroded Coffin’s finest, if he said so himself), D&D campaigns (more than a few inspired narrative twists) – even poems (shut up). 

And sometimes, like now, it really, really didn’t. 

Because his brain’s latest obsession was one Christine Elizabeth Cunningham. Oh yes. Queen of Hawkins High, almost certainly Prom Queen, captain of the cheerleading squad, Chrissy Cunningham. A very nice, very pretty, very most definitely off-limits, unavailable, do NOT under any circumstances even think about it, you fucking idiot, type of girl. 

The picture of loveliness and wholesomeness and everything bright and good in the world, but with big sad eyes and a laundry list of trauma oh, about 50 feet long. 

Unlike her certified dropkick Conformity Ken boyfriend, Chrissy was sweet as a peach, and just as easily bruised – she’d been so nervous when they’d met up at the picnic table, and it had made him want to wrap her in cotton wool and tell her everything was going to be alright. Made him want to slay all her demons and keep her safe forever. 

You know – real righteous Paladin, white knight shit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Because she already had a guy for that (the aforementioned dropkick, Jason Carver – god, even his name was like something out of Tiger Beat). 

It was Jason’s job to take care of her; to hold her tight and stroke her silky is-it-reddish-blonde-or-blondish-red hair and oh, probably make her cups of hot chocolate with the tiny marshmallows she probably loved because she was probably just that cute. 

Except she hadn’t gone to the King of All Tools when everything got bad, had she? She’d come to him – in secret, might he add – and she’d gotten into his van and come back to the trailer and stood inside and then chickened out of taking any drugs and just sat there and cried and poured her little sugarplum heart out to him. 

And, well, he couldn’t help how he felt about that, could he? Eddie wasn’t made of stone – in fact, he’d been reminded far too many times that his heart might as well have been made of those same tiny hot chocolate marshmallows, for all the soft, squishy, tender, sweet feelings that seemed to pour out of it whenever someone in his vicinity was upset. 

He’d wrapped her up in a threadbare blanket and awkwardly rubbed her shoulder and she’d smiled and said, “Yes, please, Eddie,” when he’d asked if she needed a hug. And he’d held her in his arms and she’d rested her no-it’s-definitely-reddish-blonde head on his chest, right above his black widow tattoo and more importantly, the marshmallow heart – and his foolish, ridiculous, idiot brain had decided Chrissy Cunningham would be all it would think about every minute of every hour since. 

He’d dropped her off at the big, beautiful house in Loch Nora (that she lived there and he lived in the seen-better-days double-wide in Forest Hills Trailer Park was such a cliché it was like a fucking Billy Joel song come to life).

Then he spent the next two hours chain-smoking and scarfing down handfuls of cereal and gas station candy while his imagination made her the centre of Corroded Coffin’s next hypothetical concept album, right down to the cover art (she’d be in one of those long chiffon nightdresses, floating about an abandoned castle as he dispatched her ghoulish nightmares back to Hell with a truly vicious riff). 

And then she’d somehow got his number from Dustin Henderson and called him up on the phone, just to say hi, just to make sure he wasn’t too freaked out by her the other night. And they’d made plans to hang out again – had gone for a walk in his neighbourhood where no-one of consequence would see them together, and his stupid blabber mouth had told her some of his secrets, like why he didn’t have a mom or dad (abandoned him and in prison, respectively) and why he was repeating senior year yet again (at this point it’s just habit, he’d joked, ha ha ha, and she’d given him this half-grin like she couldn’t tell if he was trying to make her laugh or not – but he was, he always was, he’d never stopped trying after hearing her delightful little giggle for the first time). 

Then it was very much sharing their hopes and dreams – all very teenage American heartland, John Cougar Mellencamp bullshit, he thought with shame (excitement) and disgust (delight).

But it had kept going like that; the calling up, the meeting up. “I can’t talk to anyone the way I talk to you,” she'd confessed once, so matter-of-factly it broke his heart a bit. She brought him a little cross-stitched Corroded Coffin bandana for his birthday in May, and he’d made her a mixtape for hers a few weeks later in June. 

“This is so sweet, Eddie,” she’d said. “I’ll listen to it every night.” And his brain had melted out his ears imagining her in her frilly pyjama set, under the covers with her headphones on and thinking of him. 

They didn’t talk in school. Prom came and went, with Chrissy and Jason predictably crowned Queen and King and Eddie spending the evening getting excruciatingly high and trying not to think about them going up to the suite Captain Haircut had probably booked at Hawkins’ only nice hotel to celebrate, just the two of us, like the walking cliché he was. 

Before he knew it, graduation was upon them. He’d already resigned himself to never seeing Chrissy Cunningham again, once she moved away to IU with Darling Jase. They should start a new war and bring back the draft, Eddie thought uncharitably, and then felt immediately guilty because Uncle Wayne had been in Vietnam.

Except, as it turned out, Eddie didn’t need the United States Armed Forces to get involved because Chrissy voluntarily broke up with Jason four days into summer break, telling him she’d be going to Illinois instead for her legacy place at her dad’s alma mater. 

A little after that, she’d come to the trailer unannounced and out of breath, chipmunk cheeks flushed and an unreadable expression (strangely like hope?) in her lovely, lovely eyes that were bluish-grey-or-were-they-greyish-blue. 

Which brings him to the present moment, in which he is entirely unsure what exactly the fuck is happening – but what else is new?

“I’ve realised something,” Chrissy tells him at the door. 

“What?” he asks dumbly, and then she grabs the collar of his lucky Black Sabbath T-shirt and pulls him into what is, to date, the best and most Earth-shattering kiss he’s ever had, until she plants the second one on him.

“I’m in love with you, Eddie,” she says between that first and second kiss (and on the third, she slips her tongue in his mouth). 

And while his brain seems to have fallen into an LSD-like trance amid the insane sensory overload he is currently experiencing, Eddie’s hands have a mind of their own; they make a valiant attempt at overloading his senses even more, skimming Chrissy’s waist, then sliding around to cup her ass through her little corduroy skirt. 

And then he realises he didn’t say anything when she told him she loved him (she is in love with him!!) and he has to break away – panting, hopefully not too embarrassingly, and rest his forehead against hers. 

“Do you love me too, Eddie?” she says softly, gazing up at him through her delicate little eyelashes, with her shining definitely-bluish-grey eyes. “It’s alright if you don’t. I just needed you to know I love you.”  

She’s holding his wrists as he cups her face, and she closes her eyes for a moment as if dreading what he has to say next. 

Eddie can’t help himself; he bends and kisses both cheeks, in the place where tears might fall if she were crying. 

“I think,” he says, kissing one, “I might love you more” – he kisses the other – “than anything in the world,” he concludes, brushing his lips softly against hers. 

With his eyes closed, he can feel her break into a smile a mile wide and an ocean deep, and she kisses him back like a sunbeam.

And though his brain is barely coping with finally, finally having Chrissy Cunningham’s mouth on his mouth, he's becoming rapidly aware that they are still standing in the doorway of the trailer. 

“Would you like to- to come inside?” he asks as she softly sucks his lower lip. Chrissy nods, and he pulls her in and shuts the door. “Um, I have, I have water and coffee, I think, and maybe juice, I don’t know if Wayne went to the market yet, but if you’re thirsty I can-“

Chrissy cuts him off. “I’m not thirsty, Eddie,” she says with an unfamiliar, deeper note in her voice, staring at his lips and running her hands under the back of his T-shirt. 

His throat goes dry, his skin erupting in furious tingles wherever her fingers trace – oh Jesus she’s touching his front now, smoothing her palms up to his chest, and what the fuck is he supposed to do with that?

“If you want, could I- could I see your room?” she asks him, the same – yes, he will say it, sexy – voice as before, but a little shy, and it is, once again, a melting-brain situation. 

He nods and kisses her again again again, arms winding around her waist in a soft hug before taking her hand and leading her down the narrow corridor to his – oh no, fucking filthy – bedroom, kicking the door behind them. 

It is, predictably, a mess of discarded clothing, screwed up paper, magazines, loose cigarettes, several cups in various states of emptiness, and he only has one pillow, and that blanket has seen better days, and Chrissy is running her hands over his back, she’s tugging him around to face her, she’s rocking up on her tip toes and there’s her tongue again. 

He shuffles awkwardly back onto the unmade bed, sitting down when his legs hit the mattress, and he must be dying, must be dead, because Chrissy is climbing onto his lap and lifting off her top to reveal, in full, the lacy white bra he had tried to pretend he couldn’t detect through the cotton. 

She cups his face and pecks his lips and grabs his wrists and moves his hands from the bed back to her waist. “You can touch me, Eddie,” she says, and it’s the single most erotic thing he’s ever heard in two decades of life. 

He brushes her bare skin and she shivers – god, he hopes his hands aren’t too cold – and moves up to slip her bra straps down her shoulders, and now there is very little keeping her breasts from being fully exposed. He pulls down one cup and he can’t help it, he really can’t – he bends to take her dusky pink nipple into his mouth, licking it experimentally before giving it a gentle suck. And his instincts are apparently spot on, because Chrissy’s hands fly to the back of his head, and he does it again, and then he does it to the other one, and his hands are tracing the soft skin of her thighs and her back, and her hips start to shift and rock as she breathes out his name. 

Can she feel that he’s hard? Because he is. Achingly so, he realises, his erection pushing uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans. He needs to relieve the tension, needs to grab her ass and lift her up and get his dick out and then put her back down again, right on top, slip inside her and let her rock herself back and forth until she comes, and he comes, and they live happily ever after. 

He doesn’t do that – instead, he fumbles down between them to try and get his fly undone, except his hands are too big and shaking and he can’t seem to twist the button the right way and this is a fucking nightmare. But Chrissy just giggles, the sound clear like a bell ringing, and slips her own fingers under his. She undoes the button easily, pulling down his zipper and sliding her hand over his hard cock oh my god. 

He must moan or something because she keeps smiling and does it again, pulling down the band of his boxers to get her palm around him. She’s stroking him up and down, grinning against his mouth, and he should do something, right? Should be touching her back, should be doing something other than falling apart in ecstasy. 

He moves his hands from where they’ve been glued to her hips and traces up her inner thigh, brushes the front of her panties (also lace, it feels like – a matching set???). Then he feels a damp spot and almost passes out. That means she’s wet – what they are doing is making her wet. She rocks forward against his fingers again, making this little needy humming sound. 

“Please, Eddie, I want it,” she murmurs into his mouth as she kisses him and strokes him and presses their bodies even tighter together, and he thinks he’s getting the hint. 

He rubs her through the lace, dragging the damp fabric over the spot underneath, and her eyelashes flutter. Uh huh, she says, almost involuntary, almost a nod. So he keeps doing it, trying to focus and not look down at her pretty little fingers with their pink nail polish wrapped around his dick. 

But after a few minutes of bliss, his own hand begins to cramp and he slips his fingers under the elastic,  says against her mouth, “Can I take these off?” 

Chrissy quickly clambers off his lap and stands in front of him, bringing his fingers to the sides of her underwear, helping him drag them down her smooth thighs and skinny legs – and he can’t help himself again because it’s all basically eye level, so he rests his head against her stomach and kisses her there and he wants to kiss her lower, wants to lick his way between her thighs and make her shake and say his name again. 

“Can I- can I? With my mouth…” he says haltingly, brain thoroughly useless at this point. But it’s not like he has much experience to go off, anyway – has no idea what he’s supposed to say. 

Chrissy blushes scarlet from her forehead to the tips of her breasts and nods. “Ok, ok, uh... lie down,” he tells her, and he’s never been more thankful for being barefoot, because now would be the worst time to have to unlace his Docs or his Reeboks, and instead all he has to do is pull off his T-shirt and his jeans and his boxers and then he’s naked and he looks up and Chrissy is shimmying out of her skirt and unhooking her bra and then she’s naked too. 

Not only is she naked, but she is lying back against his one disgusting pillow and looking up at him, nervous, excited, but overall fucking joyful – and it occurs to him that this is the absolute pinnacle of his existence so far. 

So he eases her legs apart and begins kissing her thighs, where his fingers had traced before, and she shivers again and gulps as he gets closer and closer to where she’s so hot and wet. God, he wants to make her come so badly. 

He tries to remember what he’s read, what he’s seen, what he’s heard. He spreads her with his thumbs, licks up the centre, brushes what must be her clit because she lets out a shocked little sound when he does it, so he does it again and she squeaks.

He tries to form some kind of rhythm, and she starts panting, gasping, “Eddie, don’t tease me.” 

Shit, fuck, was he? Is that what he was doing? And what is he supposed to do next?? Well, there's really only one option; he closes his lips over her clit and sucks, trying to keep flicking the same spot the same way as before, and Chrissy lets out a sound that is halfway between a scream and a moan. She buries her fingers in his hair again, holding him in place while she grinds up against his mouth. It’s so hot he can’t stop pressing his dick into the mattress.

He keeps it up, and soon she starts shaking again and chanting Eddie, Eddie, Eddie and then his face feels very wet because she’s coming, Jesus Christ. She’s got his name in her mouth and his mouth on her pussy, and he’s making Chrissy Cunningham come, and this is – without doubt – the best of all possible worlds. 

He’s about five seconds from coming himself, if he’s honest. She tugs on his hair slightly and he pulls away, mouth and chin shiny, looking up at her. 

Chrissy is red-faced, her hair a tangled halo, muscles lax, every part of her screaming afterglow. 

She’s fucking radiant.

“Eddie, that was… I’ve never done that before,” she turns away all shy, and he shimmies up and settles himself between her legs, so they are chest to chest. 

“Neither have I,” he says, tilting her chin up to kiss her, and she looks surprised for a second before winding her arms around his shoulders and whispering, “Do you want to…?” 

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Except… “Condom?” God, could he be any more blunt? Stupid, so dumb.

“In my skirt,” Chrissy says into his neck, and Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. She really wanted this, planned for it, even – as if the love bite she’s currently sucking over his thundering pulse wasn’t evidence enough of that. 

He blindly reaches down, fumbles for the pocket amongst the corduroy, and grabs the shiny metallic square. 

“Uh, I’ll just be a second,” he says awkwardly, kissing her nose as he sits back on his knees. Jesus, his dick really is front and centre like this. He’s definitely blushing, and his hands shake slightly as he focuses on ripping the package open and rolling the Latex down. If Chrissy notices how nervous he is, she doesn’t show it – she just looks at his hard-on and licks her lips and then bites them and looks up at him again through her eyelashes, and god it’s so sexy this whole thing will probably only last a minute. 

He leans forward, lining them up, watching Chrissy’s face to stop himself squeezing his eyes shut as he slides inside her for the first time. She’s biting her lip again, and breathing heavily, and he forgot to ask her if she’s ever done this part before – but of course she has, right? It’s him that’s the clueless virgin.

She’s cupping his face as he’s buried within her. “Kiss me, Eddie,” she says, so soft and sweet his heart might break again, and so he does. “You can move,” she whispers, and then – marvellously! – adds, “You feel good.”

“Yeah?” he says back, keenly aware of how little he’s spoken while they’ve been doing this – uncharacteristically so. Usually he can’t just fucking shut up, but apparently sex is the exception that proves the rule. Does she wish he was talking more? Should he work on that? 

“It’s so good, Eddie,” Chrissy smiles. “You’re so good.” 

And oh, that’s doing it for him. What an egomaniac he’s turned out to be. 

“You’re so good, you’re so beautiful Chrissy, I feel like I’m going to die,” he stammers, and she huffs out a giggle and says, “Not yet,” as she rubs their noses together.

He starts to move, experimentally, trying to keep it slow, trying not to hitch her knees up and just pound her into the bed. It’s so overwhelming, he’s right on the edge already, desperately trying to hang on and make it good for her. He leans back and wedges his hand between them, thumbing her clit in time with his thrusts, and she’s moaning softly again, her head back and eyes shut. 

It’s too much – he can’t stop watching his cock disappear inside her, watching her perfect, perfect tits jiggle and bounce with every movement, her lovely face, still blushing pink with a sheen of sweat from the orgasm he gave her, a second ago, when she was riding his face and coming, so wet and hot all over him, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie… 

Oh no. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m going to come” – the words fall out as he speeds up and just fucking disintegrates, just shatters apart, buries his face in her neck as he moans like it’s being ripped out of him. 

Moments pass. Consciousness returns. He’s dimly aware he’s panting, his probably extremely annoying heavy breaths hitting her soft skin. But she’s stroking his hair, running her fingernails over his scalp, and he must be in heaven; he’s ascended to the fucking astral realm, because he can’t remember ever being so content. 

He lifts his face and nuzzles her nose with his nose again. “That was… uh, that was great,” he says lamely, adding a sheepish, “Fast – but great.” 

Chrissy giggles, and he can feel the vibrations through her body into his. 

“I’ve had faster,” she winks, adding, “But, um, that was the most fun I’ve ever had, doing that, so…” 

“Well, that is the goal,” Eddie grins, pressing another soft kiss to her cheek and reaching a hand up to tuck a tendril of golden hair behind her ear. 

“What now?” he asks. 

“Oh,” replies Chrissy with a fond smile. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” 

#hellcheer #eddissy #first-time fic writer #crippling fear

[miracleonice87]

lady (part two to big, big plans) - with Sidney Crosby

a/n: based on the song Lady by Brett Young. this story picks up a couple of weeks after big, big plans ended. lyrics in italics indicate jumps forward in time.

warnings: swearing, alcohol. basically all about pregnancy, babies, childbirth, etc. (my brand), so if those topics are triggering, please skip this one! complete and total fluff with just a tiny touch of angst. Sid as a dad to a newborn should also come with a warning, so here you go. 

word count: ~4,000

_____

I remember when I first heard your heartbeat

It had only been eight weeks

Standing there, starin' at that screen

Was the first time you ever scared me…

Holy. Shit.

Sid blew out a deep breath, both your hands wrapped tightly around one of his for where he stood next to you at the exam table. The whooshing noise thumping through his ears seemed to reverberate from his chest to his toes. A strong, steady beat. His baby’s heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. He was sure he would never hear a more beautiful sound. 

“Wow,” you whispered as your eyes remained fixed on the screen, the image little more than a nondescript, imperfect circle at this eight-week mark. Tears dripped down your temples and you finally turned your head to see the wonder and bewilderment on Sid’s face. Your always calm, ever collected partner had never looked more rattled. 

“Oh, my god,” he muttered, raising his eyebrows as his lips pulled into an awestruck smile. “That’s our baby.” 

You nodded and your tears continued to fall freely. He raised your joined hands and pressed his lips to your knuckles, his free hand finding your head, thumb gently stroking your hairline. 

“Our baby,” you repeated, giggling sweetly. “We’re really having a baby.” 

Sid nodded and bent at the waist to kiss your forehead. 

“Oh, my god,” he said again, chuckling against your skin. 

The technician smiled at the two of you and said, “I’ll make copies of the pictures we’ve taken here today. How many would you like?” 

Just as you said “maybe three,” Sid said, “ten, please,” and you glanced at him in amusement. He gave you a confused look. 

“What do you mean?” he scoffed. Counting on his fingers, he continued. “Me, you, our parents, Taylor, your sister, Mario and Nathalie-” 

You cut him off, placing a hand on his forearm, and looked back to the tech. 

“However many you typically give is fine,” you gently assured. She smiled warmly. 

“Ten copies, coming right up,” she said. “Sit tight.” 

Sidney thanked her as she left the room, then his lips were on yours in a flash. You smiled into his passionate kiss, a gesture uncharacteristic of him in a public place, even when there wasn’t anyone else immediately in the vicinity. 

“Are you excited?” you asked against his lips. He hummed affirmatively. 

“What tipped you off?” he teased, earning a giggle. He guided you to an upright position on the table and cupped your cheek. “You’re doing the most incredible thing for us. I’m amazed. And I’m also completely terrified,” he admitted, less proudly.

You slid your hand to rest on his shoulder. “I am, too, in a way,” you confirmed. Your smile grew significantly as you added, “but I think we’re gonna fucking rock this ‘being parents’ thing, babe.” 

Sidney studied you intently. “You think so?” he asked seriously, smoothing his thumb across your cheekbone. 

You nodded. “I really do, Sid,” you promised. “And I wouldn’t wanna do this with anybody else.”

He leaned in for another kiss, finding comfort in you as he always did, which was more important than ever as you faced your biggest challenge to date. But you’d greet it head first, together, and he’d have you – he knew beyond a doubt that that would be more than enough. 

God knows I don't know

Exactly what I'm doin', but

Good news, we got her to get through it…

“No, Sid, this piece goes up here… like… this. I think.”

“Tanger, that makes no sense. It should go down here and then come across like… wait.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to stifle a laugh at the conversation happening in your guest room-turned-nursery just down the hall from your bedroom. As you entered the room and sat down the basket of freshly washed newborn clothes on the plush rocking chair, Sid looked up at you wide-eyed.

“Did you just carry that basket up the steps by yourself?” Sid asked, mild frustration evident in his voice. 

You stepped closer to him, trying to distract him by sinking your fingers into the soft curls atop his head as he sat on the floor. 

“I’m six months pregnant, babe. Not an invalid,” you said, trying your best to sound nonchalant. 

“That’s a non-answer,” Sidney pointed out, though he leaned into your touch. 

“Uh oh,” Kris mumbled as he busied himself inspecting the crib pieces, sensing that he was about to become witness to a spat, the sort with which, after two kids of his own, he was all too familiar. He knew better than nearly anyone how tense and stressed Sid got when big things were going on – Cup runs, big trades, injuries. But nothing could compare to how big this was – welcoming his first baby with you. 

The stress of it was nearly enough to drive the man to the brink. He waited on you hand and foot, barely let you out of his sight, and had forced his way into taking over nearly all of the household chores, including laundry, since finding out you were pregnant. He had given you explicit instructions not to carry the laundry baskets up the steps and to let him do it instead… but of course, you were just as stubborn as he, and attempted to sweep under the rug your blatant ignorance of his wishes in favor of surveying the progress the men had made on the baby’s crib… or, rather, the lack thereof. 

“I take it things aren’t going so well in here,” you said evenly. 

Sid sighed, sitting back and reaching up one hand to cradle your ever-rounding bump. 

“Could be going better,” he mumbled. You bit your lip to keep from smirking at his admission – if there was one thing Sidney didn’t take well to, it was failure at something. At anything.

“Kris, we invited you over because we thought you’d have experience with this type of thing,” you pointed out, giggling. 

Kris held up his hands in his own defense. 

“Hey, it’s been years now since I’ve had to put together a crib!” he argued. “The technology has already evolved.” 

You snorted, lightly scratching at Sidney’s head to get him to look up at you. 

“How about we just hire someone to do this?” you asked gently. 

“No, I’m gonna finish this if it kills me,” Sid replied adamantly. “I should be able to put together my baby’s crib.” 

You held up your other hand in concession. 

“Okay, whatever you say,” you said. “I’ll bring you a couple more beers and then I think I’ll take a nap.” 

Sid kissed your stomach and squeezed your hip. 

“Deal, as long as you’re gonna rest,” he said. “And don’t you worry – we’re gonna figure this out.” 

“I have no doubt,” you assured, bending as best you could to peck his lips. “Oh, and I’m pretty sure that piece you’re holding is the top railing,” you added innocently before heading to the kitchen. 

Your statement was followed by a few seconds of silence, then you heard a “hmph” from Sid and an indignant exclamation from Kris – “I told you so!” 

You were awoken later by the fading light of dusk filtering in through your bedroom windows. You sat up with a yawn, propped against your oversized pregnancy pillow, and found Sid sitting in a chair across the room on his laptop. 

“Hi,” you greeted groggily with a small smile. 

He lifted his head and instantly beamed at you. 

“There’s my girl,” he said, setting his computer aside and crossing the room to join you. “How’d you sleep?” he asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, kissing your temple. 

You sighed contentedly. “Actually so good,” you said. Sid’s grin grew wider – he knew how hard sleep had been to come by for you as you neared the end of your second trimester. 

“That’s great, babe,” he said. “I didn’t wanna wake you, but… I have a surprise for you.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “The crib is done?!” you asked with excitement. 

Sid shrugged, feigning innocence. “I dunno, you better come see,” he said. 

He eased you off the bed and led you down the hallway to the new nursery, where the door was closed. You turned to him with a curious look. 

“I’m gonna cover your eyes, okay?” he asked, and you nodded as he stepped behind you, placing one hand over your eyes and opening the door with the other. “Just follow my lead. Take a step… careful.” 

He guided you further into the room, and you squealed in surprise when your feet found a fluffy surface beneath them, in contrast to the hardwood that had been bare just hours ago. 

You heard the smile in his voice as Sid said, “ready… and… open.”

You gently pried his hand from your face and immediately gasped at the scene before you. Earlier today, the only signs that a baby girl was on her way were the blush pink paint on the walls, the rocking chair passed down from your grandmother’s house, and the unassembled crib components scattered on the floor. Since then, the room had been transformed into the coziest place in your home. You took in the details that had been added only today – the white faux fur rug beneath your feet, the changing table on one side of the room and the long-awaited crib on the other, the ruffled curtains on the windows, the shelves that held an assortment of children’s books and stuffed animals along with a framed copy of a recent ultrasound picture and a photo of you and Sid, and, maybe your favorite of all, the pink neon sign that read “Baby Crosby” lighted above the crib. 

The tears escaped you as though someone had turned on a faucet, and you could only sob as Sid wrapped his arms tightly around your chest from behind. 

Though he knew they were tears of joy, Sidney still felt anxious as you cried hard, and he turned you around to cradle you against himself as he soothingly rubbed at your back. 

“Shhh, honey,” he cooed. “Breathe for me, okay?” he chuckled. 

You pulled back from him with a teary giggle, nodding. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said, trying to gather yourself. “I’m okay, I swear.” 

Sidney smiled, smoothing his hands up and down your arms. “Don’t apologize, babe,” he said, kissing the bridge of your nose. “I knew this might be a little overwhelming, but I just wanted to make it special for you.”

You splayed a hand across your chest, staring again at all of the thoughtful additions to the room. 

“Special doesn’t even begin to cover it, Sid,” you said dreamily as your eyes found him again. “How did you even do all of this?!” 

He grinned proudly. “I actually called in some reinforcements,” he said. “I didn’t feel right asking for people to buy you things for a baby shower or anything, so I asked our parents and our sisters to each pick out a certain piece, and I ordered everything and hid all the boxes in the shed. So…” he turned you again in his arms, his solid chest pressed to your back as he pointed out various elements of the room. “Your dad picked out the books, some of the ones you loved most when you were little. Your mom picked out the curtains, because she said they reminded her of the ones from your and your sister’s old room.” Your heart warmed – you realized the curtains were almost identical to the ones you used to have. “My mom picked out the changing table because she knows you’re picky about storage, just like she is. My dad picked out the stuffed animals – a little Louky he found from Rimouski, a yellow lab because he knows how much we loved Sam, and a penguin because, well… obviously.” You laughed together as he smoothed his foot over the furry rug. “Your sister picked the rug because she said you had it saved on Pinterest. And my sister chose the shelves and the framed photos because she said it’s the best she can do until the baby comes and she can take real family photos of us.” You hummed happily. “And… the sign is a gift from me.” 

You turned toward him once more, your hand resting on his cheek, tears filling your eyes again. 

“How can I even begin to say thank you for this, Sid?” you whispered, shaking your head in amazement, humbled by his gesture of tenderness, thoughtfulness, and pure love. 

Sidney, too, shook his head. “How do I even begin to say thank you for this?” he asked, his hand finding your belly on the final word. “This is truly the least I could do. And listen, there are still plenty of finishing touches for you to add – sheets and blankets and artwork and stuff – but if there’s anything you wanna take back, we can easily return-”

You silenced him with a kiss, though pushing yourself up on your toes took a bit more effort these days. He smiled against your lips, and your hand found the back of his neck to keep him close. When you broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours. 

“This is perfect,” you whispered. “It’s better than I could have ever dreamed. Thank you, babe.”

Sid smiled proudly. “I love you,” he whispered back. “And our girl.” 

You nodded, resting your head on his chest as you soaked in the moment you knew would live as a sweet memory in your soul forevermore. 

I hope you look just like your momma

And love her like I do

You'll see close to perfect patience

If you watch her every move…

Sid had never been happier to miss an All-Star game. 

The official reason given by the team was that Sid was dealing with a hand injury that would have prevented him from playing in the game. The truth was, when the roster was released, Sid approached the Pens training staff and confirmed that, yes, he still did have a bruised hand from blocking a shot a week ago, but he would be prepared to play through it after the break. Just… not during. 

Knowing that you were now well into your pregnancy, plus noting in conversations with management that there truly was no reason to push Sid’s hand injury by playing in a meaningless game, the training staff deferred to the captain, who did not travel to sunny Florida that week after all. 

Instead, he spent the week in snowy Pittsburgh with you, and he had never been happier about a decision. (Well, almost never.) 

The break was spent putting the finishing touches on the nursery, organizing all the smaller items you’d gotten from your recent baby showers, and relaxing together, both one-on-one and with friends from the team who had also stayed in town. Sid’s number one priority was spoiling the hell out of you. 

Your favorite part of each day was simply laying together before bed, whether you were scrolling your phones, watching reruns of Friends, or reading, as you had been doing this evening. 

Sid emerged from the bathroom after taking a break from his thousand-page history of World War II ships to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. You heard him chuckle softly and saw him shaking his head as you lowered your copy of The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule, about her complicated friendship with Ted Bundy. 

“What?” you inquired, smirking. “What are you giggling about, mister?”

He let out an amused sigh and stretched out onto the bed on his stomach, reaching out his hand to rub soothingly over your bump, as was his most frequent habit as of late. He used his other hand to prop up his head. 

“I just don’t know how you read these terrifying books period, let alone while you’re carrying our child,” he said, simultaneously amazed and horrified. “I would never sleep.”

You shrugged. “Well I like them,” you said stubbornly. 

Sidney smiled at your obstinance, egging you on. “Our baby’s going to come out wanting to hear nursery rhymes about serial killers,” he joked. 

You rolled your eyes and set the book aside. “Better than asking for one about military ships,” you murmured, curling your fingers into Sid’s thick, slightly salt-and-pepper hair. 

He scoffed. “She’s going to know all about them anyway,” he insisted. “I’ll make sure of it.” Sid turned his attention back to your belly, flexing the pads of his fingertips against your middle.

“What do you think, little one? Are you gonna read military books like Dad when you’re bigger? Hmm? Or are you gonna read those weird true crime books like Mama?” 

“What if she’s into science? Or philosophy?” you suggested. 

He offered his sweet crooked smile  “Even better,” he replied. Then, pressing his lips to your stomach he murmured, “Then she’ll be smarter than us both.”

You smiled, too, and rested your head back against your pillows, growing sleepy at Sid’s repeated movements. You stroked his smooth cheek with your thumb.

“I hope she has your eyes,” you whispered dreamily. 

Sid shook his head. “Nah… I hope she looks just like her mama,” he rebutted, picking up your hand to press a kiss to your wrist. 

Those were the last words you heard before you drifted to sleep, still smiling. 

She'll hear you, she'll hold you, she'll help you through

She'll fix you, and me too…

This was far from the birth either of you had anticipated. 

After your water broke in the early hours of a frigid March morning, Sidney had loaded your bags into his vehicle and cautiously made his way to Magee Women’s, the route familiar after nine months of regular trips to the Oakland hospital. Traffic at this time of day was virtually nonexistent, and getting checked into your labor and delivery room was, thankfully, a breeze. 

The morning started easily, with you still able to laugh and talk between light contractions, even calling your and Sidney’s parents yourself to give them the exciting news that their first grandchild would soon be making her arrival. Your strength and calm made Sid feel strong and calm himself. 

Until that evening, when you had been pushing for three hours but you weren’t making any progress at all. Sid could feel the anxiety gripping his heart as he watched you writhe in pain. Though he had never witnessed a birth, he got the sense that this was not “the norm.” His concern only grew as he watched your doctor send a pointed, knowing expression to the nurse standing by your bed, who was now reaching for an oxygen tank and mask, handing it to you and calmly instructing you to put the mask over your nose and breathe normally. You did so with trembling fingers, your eyes wide with fear. 

Suddenly, a chorus of beeping alarms was chirping, lights flashing on every screen and monitor in the room. The nurse herself pressed the call button on your remote which brought two other nurses into the room. 

No, Sid thought as he stared down at you, wide-eyed behind the oxygen mask. No, no. It isn’t supposed to be this way.

“Fetal heart rate’s dropping,” one nurse said, moving from one monitor to inspect the paper report trailing out from another.  

No. No, no, no. 

“Mom’s blood pressure is spiking,” another nurse said, reaching for her stethoscope. 

No. No. 

“I think baby’s shoulders are stuck, Mama,” the doctor explained, her voice gentle but still thick with a distinct urgency. “This is gonna hurt, and it’s not going to be easy. I’m sorry. We’ve gotta get baby out now. I need you to stay calm for me and focus on pushing as hard as you can, okay?” 

With one arm lifting your shoulders off the bed and the other hand clasped tightly between both your own, Sidney focused all of his attention on you. 

“You’re doing it, babe,” he encouraged, pressing his forehead to the side of your head. “You’re doing so well, sweet girl. Almost there.” He heard his own voice wavering even as he forced himself to put on brave and steady front for you. 

You moved the oxygen mask away from your face, your hands shaking even more now. “It’s… so hard!” you panted, head slumping back against the flimsy pillow. 

Sidney nodded, squeezing your knee. “I know it is, babe,” he sympathized. “I can’t even imagine. But you’ve got this, okay? You do.” 

You looked at him, sniffling, the most pitiful expression on your face. “It hurts, Sid,” you cried. “It hurts so bad.”

His throat tightened at your admission – you had a high pain tolerance, and past that, you never, ever complained. He knew that this was the worst pain of your life, and he wished more than anything that he could bear it for you instead. 

“I know, honey, I know,” he soothed, blinking back tears of his own. “But you’re almost done, okay? Our baby is almost here – she’ll be here so soon. Right?” 

You nodded, frowning, your breath coming in slow, uneven gasps. 

“Right,” he answered himself, positioning the oxygen mask back over your nose and mouth. “So listen – let’s take some deep breaths and get ready to bring her here to us. Okay?” 

You responded immediately to his coaching, pursing your lips to control your breathing as you’d both learned in the many birthing classes you’d attended over the past several months. You knew he was right. No matter the unexpected circumstances, you were made for this – you could do this. And you would, with Sidney right beside you, supporting you each step of the way. 

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling the urge to push again. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Sid lifted your shoulders so that you were in a crunch position once again. “Good girl,” he praised as the nurse counted you through your pushing. “That’s my girl.” 

You can always run to daddy

You'll always be my baby, but

Look at her, baby girl

And you'll learn how to be a lady…

Saylor Paige Crosby arrived after four full hours of pushing, her dramatic birth not at all representative of her laid-back nature. She barely whimpered during those first sacred hours after her birth, save for when she was hungry. Her proud grandparents “ooh”d and “ahh”d over her sweet disposition and soft coos, and could barely pull themselves away for the night when the nurse gently reminded them that visiting hours were long over. They reluctantly said their goodbyes, and before they had even made their way out of the maternity ward, Sid turned around to find you already sleeping peacefully. 

He smiled softly to himself, Saylor tucked in one arm, and pulled the covers up to your shoulders with his free hand, bending down to press a light kiss to your forehead. He backed away from you silently and took a seat in the recliner at the end of the bed, focusing once again on Saylor. 

“You and Mama had a long day, huh?” he rasped, smoothing one hand over the blanket tightly wrapped around the baby’s form. “She’s so strong, baby girl,” he added incredulously. “She didn’t even swear at me while she was bringing you here,” he added with a wry grin. “I think that’s pretty good.” 

He sighed deeply, looking up again at your sleeping form. 

“You’ve both been through so much today,” he said, looking back to Saylor. “But you’re here now, huh? You’re here, and you’re safe, and you’re the most beautiful little girl in the world.” He traced a finger over his daughter’s familiar features. “Yes, you are. And I was right about one thing,” he continued, beaming. “You look just like her. Lucky girl.” He pulled the hospital-issued cap, complete with a giant bow, down further to cover Saylor’s ears. “The luckiest girl, to have her as your mama. She’s the most wonderful person in the world, with the kindest heart. She loves you more than anything, Say. I can promise you that,” he said, sniffling, swiping at the stray tears that had fallen. “And I know you’ll love her like I do.” 

#big big plans #part two #sidney crosby #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby fanfic #sidney crosby fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction

[soapskneebrace]

this is me asking for the monastery gelato story :)

I feel like this might be underwhelming lmao. So in May 2018, I went on a month-long study abroad trip to Florence, Italy to make art, eat pasta, and as it turned out sweat my ass off because Europe for some reason does not believe in the miracle of air conditioning.

The curriculum was VERY rigorous, not just academically but also physically by necessity of the fact that we had to walk fucking everywhere to get literally anywhere. I walked all over central Florence to get to museums, art galleries, various historical sites, and the international art school hosting us for in-studio classes.

One of the historical sites we visited was San Miniato al Monte, and I figured out the hard way that "al Monte" meant "at the top of a big fuckoff hill".

This is not my photo. The phone I took all my photos with for this trip shat itself in Venice when I left it next to a running sink. I have very few photos of this entire trip, and none of this story.

Luckily, we had a bus to drive us there! Just kidding. The bus took us from the station and deposited us at what I swear to god was the very base of the hill. We proceeded to walk up that hill for the next forty-five minutes.

Here's a fun fact about me: the heat makes my brain melt. I think it's an autistic thing. My brain also doesn't function when I'm hypoglycemic, which in Italy I always was because I'm a sensitive eater and didn't have enough time to figure out any safefoods (which I'll point out that at the time I didn't know was something I could or should do). Likely at that point in the day all I had eaten was a croissant and an espresso.

So I don't actually remember a lot about this day trip. I remember sweating like a whore in church (ha, get it, because it's a church), I remember a graveyard with old weathered statues, and getting eaten alive by mosquitos. We went inside, and I vaguely remember the interior.

Fun fact about churches in Italy, you have to cover your shoulders if you're a woman. I have a corny Venezia scarf from that trip to Venice that I had to buy last minute. But that's a story for another time!

So, after we got the tour we were set free to explore the grounds. Personally, I was not interested in exploring the grounds, on account of being near death by way of mosquitos and starvation and sweating every fluid from every pore. So I went to the gift shop. It was the only air conditioned building in the vicinity.

I remember there being a gorgeous rosebush outside the shop, heavy with pink blooms. I distinctly remember snapping a photo of the biggest of them, but that photo is lost to time and Apple products' vulnerability to singular drops of water. Before the gelato, that rose was the best part of my day--I've always loved flowers, and even when you're tired and hungry a pretty rose is going to remind you that life is not in fact horrible.

In the gift shop were displays of handmade little gifts directly from the monks that lived in the monastery. Little ceramic doodads and figurines, all hand painted and signed, lined the shelves, and in one corner of the shop was a waist-high freezer filled with plastic-capped paper cups.

I remember the pattern around the cups was green and pink and probably floral. I was of course minutes from death so I picked out the one that looked the fullest. It did not look impressive--just some chocolate ice cream, about the same size as little single serve cups you can get at Walmart or any gas station.

I paid maybe two euro for it, bought a little ceramic ewer to go with it (I don't have a picture of it but I'll post one later if I can find the thing), and found somewhere on the grounds to sit and eat.

I am an ex-Baptist and very passionate about that. I do not believe in the Christian god nor any of its associated divinity. But reader, when I took that first bite of gelato, Jesus Christ Himself floated down on a shaft of sunlight to stroke the hair away from my face and smile at me in the way a gentle parent might. The best ice cream I had ever eaten did not compare to how good this gelato was, on that hot Italian morning, in a quiet, weathered graveyard, with a rosebush swaying nearby in a breeze that finally seemed to be picking up.

I had gelato many, many times again on that trip--even from a very famous gelateria, Amorino, that you will probably find all over social media because they sculpt flowers out of gelato on a cone.

Not my picture. Venice must always have its pound of flesh. Apple products are more suicidal than lemmings.

But nothing, not a single scoop, compared to that little paper cup of gelato. I will likely never be able to find that gelato again, because to be candid I'm not even totally sure it was the San Miniato monastery we went to. Time, mental illness, and trauma have stolen a lot of memories from me. But I will never forget that little moment of piece and sweetness for as long as I live.

#answered #storytime

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday! For DADWC, how about An uninvited tea party guest? Thank you!

Hi Noire, thank you for this prompt! I have taken the liberty of combining it with one requested by @melisusthewee, who asked for Sera & Thalia + "I Came, I Saw, I Left." My brain connected them in a delightful way, and I had to run with the idea.

This is a direct continuation of this (which, in turn, is a continuation of this). Angst everywhere.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1201 CW: Discussion of major character death

---

Thom reheats the pot of tea and foists a biscuit on Thalia — she is too thin these days, the grief wearing her down to nothing. She eats in tiny bites, breaking off bits with one hand, the crumbs multiplying on the table. Her prosthetic arm is unwieldy, stays stiffly at her side. He wants to inspect it, to see if the damn thing can be improved upon, but cannot think of a polite way to ask. 

They settle into the realm of small talk. Not his choice, but now that she’s decided to stay he can’t risk upsetting her balance and sending her flying away from him again. Dorian is tearing up the Magisterium in Tevinter, apparently. Varric is still viscount of Kirkwall — that much Thom knew, being in the general vicinity. Josephine has found a paramour and might be getting married soon. Thalia was thinking of heading to Antiva after Markham to see her, if she could not find him. Thom secretly hopes the former  ambassador will take her sweet time with the nuptials. He has no desire to let Thalia out of his sight again. 

The conversation turns to him, and Thom tries his best to fill her in without making it sound like he’s boasting. Business is good, the company has flourished; it seems there are plenty of moneyed folk in want of mercenaries that adhere to a code. “Been in the employ of too many companies that will take any job for the right price, no matter the morality of it. Gives us all a bad name. People like knowing they’re hiring men who won’t turn tail as soon as there’s a higher offer.” 

Thalia listens with her good hand propped up under her chin, blue eyes rapt with the attention she used to give him when she believed him to be a Grey Warden. Back then, he worried if she knew the truth, she would find even the most mundane details of his life inferior and abhorrent. It brings him great pride to see the opposite is true. 

The morning wiles on, the rain beating relentlessly against the windows. They both lose track of time. 

He has just coaxed her into taking another biscuit when there’s a great clatter at the front door. Thalia startles, snapping her gaze to the foyer. “Thom?”

He’s not wearing his sword, but he’s certain he locked the heavy front door. His home is in a secure section of the city, but one can never be too careful. “It’s all right,” he cautions her, “I’ll just go see—”

He has no time for more words. The door bursts open, and in stomps a blond elven woman, tartan dress soaked through and dripping, a scowl on her spritely face. “Oi, Beardy, you better be dead in here, or I swear to all possible gods, I’ll…” 

She tracks muddy water to the head of the table, where she halts, gaze bouncing between Thom and Thalia. He recalls that he did give her a key. 

“Hi, Sera,” Thalia says demurely. 

Sera blinks once. “Fucking hell.” She turns on her heels and storms out the way she came. 

“I see she’s as excited to see me as always,” Thalia quips.

Sighing, Thom stands. “Forgive me, I need to speak with her. One of my lieutenants must have sent her when I didn’t come in this morning.”

“She works for you now?” Thalia asks with a forced lightness. 

“Freelance,” Thom says, because the full story will take longer than he has to catch up with her. “Wait here.” 

He sprints after Sera into the dismal weather, boots splashing in the puddles pooling along the cobblestones. She’s easy to spot, a smear of bright red and yellow in an otherwise bleak landscape. “Sera! Sera, for Maker’s sake, will you wait a bloody minute and let me explain?” 

She’s striding with purpose back toward company headquarters, and would otherwise not have slowed down if he hadn’t closed the distance between them and took hold of her shoulder. Sera whirls to face him, scowling. 

“What’s she doing here?” Sera demands, pointing vaguely in the direction of Thalia. 

“She came to visit an old friend. What’s the matter with that?”

“Ha,” Sera spits. “Old friend? Are you listening to yourself? What happened, did ol’ Commander Tight-Knickers stop doing it for her, and now she’s looking for a consolation prize?” 

“Sera,” Thom says soberly, because otherwise she’ll go off on a colorful tangent about Thalia and her romantic choices, “the Commander is gone.” 

Sera stares at him, confused. “What d’you mean? Where’d he go?” 

“The afterlife, I presume.” 

Sera lets out an abrupt, brash laugh. It only lasts for a few seconds, as she notices Thom does not join in. “Shite. You’re not kidding, are you?” 

Thom shakes his head. 

“Shite.” Sera swipes wet hair out of her eyes. “What— happened?” 

Thom sighs. “You remember Templars and their lyrium dependency, yes?” 

“Bloody…” Sera trails off, gritting her teeth. “I should’ve given him more cake.” 

Thom decides he does not have time to parse that particular statement. “The point is, Thalia is distraught. I had to do something. Offer her some… comfort.” 

Sera squints at him, pressing her lips together. “Don’t do it again, Beardy. Please.”

“Do what again?”

“You know.” She kicks at a cobblestone at their feet. “Was bad enough the first time, what she did to you. All that will-they-won’t-they, oooh, he loves me, he loves me not—” She sighs. “It killed you a little when she picked Golden Boy. I know it did.” 

“That’s not how it went.” Thom sighs. In the old days of the Inquisition, his friendship with Sera deepened just as things with Thalia were falling apart. Sera and Thalia never had much in common, and clashed for their own reasons, which made it all the easier for Sera to blame Thalia for what happened between her and Thom. “She didn’t pick anyone. I drove her away, removed myself from the equation.” 

“And now what? You want her back, don’t you?” 

Thom can’t think of a way to deny it without lying.

“What makes you think it’ll be any different this time?” Sera asks. 

“It will be,” he vows. “I can… make it right. You’ll see.” 

Sera shakes her head. “She’s still Little Miss Stuck-Up, you know. Lady Whatever. One of them, Beardy.” 

“I know. I know.” He and Sera never had so much in common as when they were mocking the aristocracy. It always stuck in her craw, that he might make an exception for Thalia. “She’s not like the others.” 

“You always say that,” Sera says dubiously, “usually right before she proves herself to be exactly like them. She’ll get tired of slumming it.” 

“I appreciate your concern,” Thom says lightly, “but I think only time will tell on that score.” 

“Right.” She grimaces.

“Truce? Or are we going to continue arguing in this bleeding rainstorm until we catch our deaths?”

“Ugh, fine.” Sera throws her arms around him and engulfs him in a soggy hug. He returns it, patting her lightly on the back. 

Into his shoulder, Sera says, “This doesn’t mean I’ll have to be nice to her, does it?” 

“Sera…” 

“Kidding!”

#blackwall x trevelyan #blackwall #sera #fics #blackwall & sera #i love their friendship #i'm sure this will be fine #and there will be no friction whatsoever #dragon age drunk writing circle #thalia trevelyan #kingdom come au

[uncanny8ellen]

I'm fucking tired so Imma just put a piece of a wip here. Dunno if I'll ever finish. Mayhaps a sequel will show up if I survive. God I wish I could have more sleep. Or die.

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Character: Karl Heisenberg, Hunter(Oc)

TW: Violence, Blood, Mentions of murder, Graphic depictions of injury, Swearing, Chocking

Summary: After the 'execution' of runaway villagers by Miranda's order, the most dangerous Lord of the village returns to his domain. On his way, the fatigued, sleep deprived Lord of Iron finally explodes under stress, the peculiar approach to life from his newest ally finally getting under his skin.

Temperance

They walked in silence. The tension could be cut with knife, with how tightly it built up to the point of snapping. Karl, ever the hot-headed one, finally roared in rage.

"Spit it the fuck out already!"

Hunter stopped dead in his tracks. With his back facing the seething engineer, he looked back.

"What are you talking about."

His voice was deathly calm, more so than usual. It only fanned the flame in the other's eyes.

"I saw the way you look at me, asshole. If you got something to say, fucking say it to my face right now! I don't have patience to put up with your bitchy attitude!!"

Silence followed, minus the heavy panting from Heisenberg. He absolutely loathed that neutral look on his face. How he could keep a poker face despite the bullshit shenanigans erupting all over the village on daily basis. It only infuriated the mad engineer, because he couldn't wrap his head around the fact himself. He couldn't understand this bastard at all. The frustration brought anger. He needed answers now.

"I didn't approve of your method, but I understood the need for it, is all."

"Oh so you think you get to get all high and mighty huh?"

"I never said-"

"Shut the fuck up!!!"

To his credit, despite getting yelled at straight in the face in such terrifying tone, the gunner didn't even twitch. Karl's blazing eyes were near hateful, teeth bared, looking about ready to tear his throat out.

"Please calm down." he said, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Karl once again roared, but this time with mocking laughter.

"What, scared?"

Then, his eyes sharpened. Now with something dangerous dancing behind that gaze, the Lord slowly advanced.

"Afraid you'll meet the same fate as those retarded livestocks? Because you should be. You should be very much afraid of me."

Hunter's eyes slightly narrowed at the Lord's description of the villagers, but his tone stayed even.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh really?" The Lord sneered, his showman's voice now masking the thunderous anger.

"You're not? You just saw me making that moron's head go flying. You saw how I crushed them one by one, beating them to meaty pulps, like the little pests they are. I'm the kind of monster they warn about to their kids, lest the terrifying Lord Heisenberg drag their sorry asses to his dreadful factory."

"You're not a monster."

For a moment, the Lord's face mirrored the total blankness on the marksman's face. It would've seem hilarious, had it not been for the following fury which returned with vengeance.

"Are you fucking serious."

The fists in vice grip were shaking so much, and Hunter could see every metal objects in their vicinity slowly rising into the air.

"I could kill you, right here." he spat, venom dripping from his words.

"Mirander's order be damned. 'Not a monster'? Clearly, you are out of you depth, Hunter. You don't know what she made me into."

The gunner only looked in mute passivity.

"You don't know what I've done, what I'm capable of. Today was the very tip of an iceberg, one that is as colossal as that big bitch's ego."

Another beat of silence. Neither man looked away, unable to break this moment, the radiating animosity from one, and the seeping serenity from the other, colliding in the middle, threatening to overflow and sweep them away. Just one slip, and the dam between the two that has steadily been going up these past few weeks was going to burst.

It was finally shattered by hunter's quiet but firm, reply.

"You are not a monster."

Karl had to admit, despite the blinding red that quickly filled up his vision, he was impressed. Impressed that, even when decked across the face with a full swing, the fucker didn't even stumble. Though it definitely should have given him some sort of a whiplash, being struck with such inhuman strength. He could punch down trees with his bare hands, for fuck's sake. There was no way this guy was normal. That head shouldn't be attached to those shoulders.

'Oh well, better try harder', Karl thought carelessly, kicking him in the gut.

As soon as his back met the ground Karl was on top of him, pressing down on his throat with bruising grip.

"What about now? Is this 'monstery' enough for you?"

He grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed his head on the ground. And again.

"I was thinking maybe I could break you legs, but making you run for your life seems entertaining as well."

He leaned in and whispered into the huntsman's ear.

"Well? Which one would it be?"

He loosened the grip on the throat, expecting an answer. All he was met with was a quite,

"You are not a monster."

With an animalistic growl he lifted him by the neck, and hurled him across the field. Hunter crashed into one of the metal fences, the barbed wires slicing the flesh open. As he crumbled to the ground, the wires followed, sticking to his joints, tearing the fabric. He laid there like a ragdoll, and slowly sat up and watched as the metal Lord charged at him.

Once again the gloved hand seized the abused throat, pulling his face close to the snarling Heisenberg.

"You think you know so much?"

He tossed him to the ground, and grabbed one of the wrists that lay limply on the sides.

"I'll show you monster."

He yanked at the arm, enough to hear it pop, and at the same time, stomped down on the upper arm, feeling the bone give under his boot. With a sickening 'crack!', the now badly damaged arm dropped to the ground like a log. But hunter didn't so much as whimper. His jaw tensed a bit from such intense pain, but otherwise he kept quiet. All he did was look up at the unhinged-looking Lord.

"Changed your mind, darling?"

"You are nothing like her."

The engineer's eyes darkened.

"Of course not, I-"

"You are not a monster."

Before Karl could viciously lunge at him, he added, "So stop trying to be one."

That made the man pause. Heisenberg now loomed over him with an unreadable expression. Even with that spectacle shielding his eyes, Hunter could still hear the cogs clicking in that brilliant head of his.

"Why the fuck do you care."

"You didn't deserve what she did to you."

The mechanic roughly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up, slamming him against the metal fence once more.

"I don't need your goddamn pity-"

"I don't do pity."

Karl blinked. He didn't expect such sudden hostility from his opponent.

"You deserved none of what she did to you. That is a fact. She did unspeakable things to you, yes, but that doesn't make you a monster."

Before Karl could reply, Hunter beat him to it.

"Even after all those years, she couldn't take that away from you. You might not feel like it, but under all that trauma and torture, your humanity's still intact."

The grip never wavered, but the onslaught of violence finally seized, Heisenberg trying to process what he's just heard.

As silence stretched out, Hunter continued, voice subdued.

"Besides, my entire family heritage is tracking down monsters and eliminating them. We can spot them from anywhere. And....."

His eyes grew vacant. They looked far away, unseeing.

"I was born from one. No way I can't recognize my own kind."

The laughter that was about to form in Heisenberg's chest from the shooter's words fizzled out at the chilling way Hunter looked at him. Suddenly, he didn't know if this was the same person, no. Same creature that he had at his feet mere minutes ago. Those eyes...they looked foreign. So inhuman and wrong. They didn't seem alive, like glass eyes, but at the same time, they still had the same look of recognition only seen from beings that has high cognitive level of intelligence. Karl couldn't tear his eyes away, the abyssal black seemingly creeping ever closer, encircling him, trapping him into its depth. Something was watching him. He was watching it. It was death. It had to be. He could not breathe. He could not feel. He couldn't-

As if a switch was flipped, those eyes were back to normal. Karl let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The change was so quick, he couldn't trust his own mind to discern between reality and him just seeing things from sleep deprivation. Hunter closed his eyes.

What was that?

The sound of their breathing was deafening.

Karl distantly thought that maybe, he heard a storm approaching.

"Could you please let me go."

The Lord startled out of his stupor at the quiet request. He hesitantly let go of the clothing and backed off a bit. Hunter's mangled arm was entangled in a loose barbed wire, and he started to painstakingly peel himself away from the jagged, rusty fence.

"Here, let me..."

Karl used his power to tug away the wires and broken fences latching on to Hunter like metal teeth. Bad idea. They tore the skin further, and now he had a blood soaked Hunter in front of him, literally ripped in places. Again, the shooter didn't make a single sound. Karl bit his lip. Shit. He looked at the unnaturally bent arm which he brutally snapped without remorse. There was a...bone sticking out. His right arm was entirely drenched in red. Fuck.

Heisenberg's now uncertain gaze met the other's. Still so goddamn calm. Blood was covering half of his face, all of it trickling down from a nasty gash over his hairline. Bruising from the punch was already forming on the jaw, the black and purple stark on Hunter's neck. Karl briefly wondered if he did any lasting damage to the neck. God fucking damnit.

He went too far. The work, meetings, and that cunt calling him like a dog to do her bidding, when he should be working even more on that prototype he wanted to test out.

The way Hunter looked at him today. Something he couldn't understand. Somber, poignant, even. And...and..........so painfully understanding.

All of them wore down his barely existent patience.

At that moment, when their eyes met, he felt seen. As a person. Not a tool, not a servant, not Lord, not some fucking deity, and godforbid, not a monster.

When he smashed open those people and got covered in their blood, playing the role of a prized son, he felt hollow. He'd done the execution countless times. Setting an example was Miranda's bread and butter, and who better to assign the honor than his most favored creation? The women were mostly sent to Alcina, sure, but he was all about the show. And he hated every second playing into her bullshit cult crap. Repetition made it feel like a chore, rather than a repulsive act of unforgivable sin.

The elephant lady had her basement packed with maidens, and when Moreau felt like having a snack, rumors of missing fishermen spread like ripples, and the fishing was prohibited for a whole season.

Donna...didn't mean harm, most times. But her unstable psyche was still a threat. Combined with her hallucinogenic ability, it was only a matter of time before some villagers showed up insane, the unfortunate bunch who got a bit too close to the secluded beneviento mension.

And there was him. Lord Heisenberg. He knew he was the most feared. His volcanic temper didn't help in the matter, either. Not that he cared what those brainless idiots thought of him. The irony of the situation, was that he wasn't one for unnecessary killing. If anything, Miranda's regular 'cleansing' wiped out most of the population. Death was a norm under Black God's reign.

Still, he saw no point in the act. The graves were never scarce in this place. Fresh bodies literally just lying around. He could just take a walk through a forest, and once awhile, somewhat intact bodies of unlucky hikers were retrieved. They were just that abundant.

It wasn't that he had enough conscience to feel some sort of reluctance when it came to taking lives. After decades of practice, it was as easy as breathing. One swing, crash. Dead. Humans were fragile compared to him, all it took was a single hit.

It was nothing. It has been nothing.

So why, when he struck down that wailing boy, he felt something in him crack?

He couldn't fathom it. Wouldn't. He could keep it down, until there were none to think about. But Hunter made it so much worse with that look on his face.

So he snapped.

Which brought him to this mess.

'Great,' karl thought, grimacing at the amount of blood that kept flowing down. 'Damaging my own ally almost beyond repair. Great strategy. Surely he'll help me take down that bitch now, what a way to keep him on my side.'

"You don't have to look so regretful."

Karl's brow furrowed further. Damn him and his carefree approach to anything.

"You are literally bleeding out on my turf. Your arm-"

"Will heal. 'S fine."

Karl's frown deepened, now nearly forming valleys on the rugged landscape that was his face.

"I can see that ivory piece poking out. Look me in the eye and say it's 'fine'."

"That wasn't very nice of you, that's for sure."

The mechanic tried so hard not to get his hackles raised.

"You. Kept pushing. Your luck. Don't go complaining when you incessantly poked a damn grizzly and got a beating."

"I'm not one of the livestocks," Hunter countered right back, sarcasm evident in the very last word. "I'll speak my mind when I want. I don't serve nor worship you. You can't tell me what to say and what not to say."

"That could cost you your life, you know."

"And here I am, not dead. I'm not afraid of speaking the truth. The only time I purposefully hide things and lie," he squeezed his arm harder. He'll need to put it in a sling.

".....is when I intend to kill or harm the other. When we agreed to work together, I promised to be truthful. Don't expect anything less now."

Hunter started rummaging through his numerous pockets. With only one arm for use, it took a while until he found what he was looking for. He fished out a small metallic cylinder, fitting snugly into the palm of his hand.

He held it out to the puzzled Lord, who used his ferromagnetic power to make it fly straight into his grip. He raised his eyebrow, and looked at the battered man.

"You wanted info on BSAA. It's all there."

"I said that 2 days ago! You got it already?!" The metalbender spoke incredulously. He knew the guy was resourceful, and definitely know a lot more than he lets on, but this was just ridiculous.

"I have my ways. Now that my job for today is done, I'll get out of your hair."

Not even a step further, his way back home was blocked by the broad man.

"Where the hell do you think you are going."

"Back to my humble abode, my Lord."

"Oh so it's 'my Lord' again? I thought you do not serve me?"

"No. But I can play the part, Lord Heisenberg. You have a reputation to keep. Even if that title is worth some dirt on the street."

Heisenberg's face was immediately mere inches away from his.

"Watch it, du verdammter Mistkerl. (you goddamn bastard.)"

"Do you actually value what she gave you?"

"What?"

"Or is it the power? Does the 'Lord' title make you feel powerful?"

"Listen you-"

"No YOU listen."

That icy tone from before was back. Karl couldn't honestly believe this was the guy that didn't even wrinkle his nose after Moreau's violent upchucking.

"If I were to call you the 'Lord'," he creeped in even closer to the engineer's face, now their noses almost touching.

"It's not because some nutjob of a woman says you're one, or because you threaten to crucify me on the trees as a dart board."

That was a tempting image, but Karl pushed that thought aside for now.

"If I were to call you the Lord Karl Heisenberg, it must have been earned. For now I humor everyone, following their tradition."

Hunter's breath ghosted over his lips. Those dark eyes bottomless, seeing into the impossible and beyond.

"But they mean nothing to me. The only time I sincerely utter that title is when I'm speaking of you. Because so far, you're the only one who I'd dare say respect."

The metal Lord backed away slightly from shock. His frown melting away as confusion once again took its place.

"No one in this cesspool work as hard as you do. You work until you collapse. You resisted Miranda's mind game, managed to see through her lies. Bowed your head down to her feet, with teeth gritted. And now you smile when she calls you her son. You've been planning a revolution, built an entire army, for decades. Alone. That's damn fucking admirable."

The usually boisterous engineer was now utterly speechless. Granted, no one ever appreciated his effort to this level, the boot-licking from villagers obviously not counting.

But genuine compliment?

Respect for his hard work?

Karl didn't know what to do, except clearing his throat, very awkwardly, and uttering a somewhat feeble, 'thank you'.

The marksman nodded in reply, turning to look up at the sky. His bloody arm was still tightly held in his grasp, now only a few drops of red falling off.

"I've got to go."

"N-"

"You are a busy man. Surely you've got better things to do."

That's exactly what Karl would have said, if not for the excessive assault he commited on the man earlier.

"I can patch it up myself. I've survived worse."

Obviously Karl was having none of it. Just as he was about to just drag the idiot to the garage, Hunter spoke up again.

"Glad you got that out of your system. You looked like you needed it."

.......Did. Was that-

Right on cue, the church bell signaling the upcoming meeting echoed in the distance.

With a growl, Karl glared at the tall building, thinking of all the ways he'll blow it up with Miranda trapped in it.

When he looked back, he found himself staring at an empty space. The blood stained ground and crooked fence were the only indications that there was someone there at all.

The metal Lord groaned in bone-deep fatigue and frustration. How the fuck does he keep doing that.

He wondered if the fucker provoked him on purpose. So he can 'get it out of his system.' His gaze moved to a metal cylinder sitting in his hand.

His mouth made a thin line. He nearly killed the guy over nothing.

'You're not a monster'

That arm will take a looong time to heal. Must've hurt like a son of a bitch, too. And what does the guy do? Give him even more than what he requested. In 2 days. Says he respects him. Praises him for his life's work.

Man he felt like shit.

Guilt knived him from inside in steady streaks. The accusing edges dug into his heart, with the cry of that village boy still ringing in his ears.

'Not a monster'

Yeah. Right.

He once again leered at the accursed church. He had a meeting to attend.

The Iron Lord took off the shades, and quickly wiped at his bloodshot eyes. As he put the glasses back on, he pocketed the little metal container safely. He'll check up on Hunter later. If he can find him, that is.

With heavy sigh, Heisenberg sauntered away.

~~~

I wrote this in 3 hours. Can you tell how unrefined it is? No beta we die like Ethan Winter's withered hands.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #iron steed #the hunter #my writing #lord karl heisenberg #alcina demitriscu #donna beneviento #mother miranda #salvatore moreau #resident evil 8

[vileintcnt]

closed starter : @voidscnt

Sid was staring at the selection of cereal for around fifteen minutes now, humming as his thumb swiped at the metal sheathing of his knuckles like he was making the decision of a lifetime. It was all irrelevant anyway; he always ended up going home with fruit loops. A faint tug at the chain attached to his jeans stole him from his dilemma, and he looked down with wide eyes at the little kid grappling onto him with tears in their eyes. Their request made his eyebrows lift, and he looked around the immediate vicinity. "Oh shit...I mean, fuck--" He covered his mouth immediately, eyes going even wider as he blinked at the child like a deer in headlights. Stop swearing, Sid, you fucking idiot. A deep breath, and he crouched down to the kids height. "Hey hey, no worries, let's go find her, alright?" His shaggy hair fell in front of his face, and he blew it up with an upward puff of air before holding his hand out. They'd looked around for about ten minutes, trust him to find a missing kid in such a big supermarket.

He'd occupied the time asking the kid questions, found out her name, even what their favorite cereal was. Fruit loops, great choice. He'd even got a couple of smiles out of her. Though Sid was starting to think they should probably just get someone on the speakers to make an announcement, and he was about to make that suggestion, as though the kid could give him an informative answer, when he backed up into someone who, without him being aware, had appeared to be frantically searching herself. His phone shot out of his hand, already cracked beyond disrepair, but he still launched for it in a desperate attempt to shelter it from any more damage. Of course, he spun around, words already set in motion. "Jesus man can you not see the kid? Watch it--" And then he went silent, mouth dropping open slightly as he came face to face with her for the first time. "O-Oh shit, my bad. I didn't realize you were so hot-- Fuck, I mean, I didn't realize you were so close, that is I didn't know I was in your way, I- Um," Rubbing his forehead with an awkward and apologetic grin, Sid looked down to the little girl who had now began to latch themselves onto her, and his head dipped in realization. "So you're who we were looking for...She's a good kid, definitely deserves some fruit loops after all that running about we just did..." And he flashed a wink towards the little girl who was now looking up at him with a toothy grin, bashful as she whispered her thanks and he nodded knowingly, his gaze flitting back to the mom in question, swallowing hard. God why did he feel nervous?

#ft.voidscnt #patrick 'puck' spence | interacts

[byersbeefstew]

FUCK the soundtrack has been released (?) and idk whether to look at it......... .. nhmmhmhmgm........... my eyes have literally never been averted quicker than that oh my GOD

#hhhhhhmmmmmm..... nope not going to do that #NOpr #no...... nmhmhmmm #NO ONE TALK TO ME ABOUT IT #or even THINK about it in my vicinity i swear to FUCKING GOD #ok maybe i can chill........ but literally no #like ok

[angelplummie]

Okay so like for starterssssss, I love getting represented as a chubby gal 🥺🥺 so I love you for writing that last Oikawa imagineeeee 😩😩😩

Soooo, I was wondering if I could request a plus size reader that really likes Kuroo, (and he’s like a super cliché bad boy🤰🏽) but he’s too embarrassed to be seen with Y/n. So she starts to hit on his friend or try to make him jealous. (I want you to add your own little idea here! But likeee, make her a baddie 😘😘)

Thanks baby 😚

HE’S A SCUMBAG DON’T YOU KNOW

KUROO X CHUBBY F!READER

Angsty?? kinda, a pinch of suggestive stuff

masterlist

post girlboss was referring to

a/n:i decided to go for emo / anger issues / definitely has punched a hole in his wall kuroo, just cuz i love writing losers, and i love seeing grown men cry. reader is like 20/21 just like college age yk, kuroo is 23 as stated in fic. p.s where my artic monkey hoes at

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex n specific sexual acts, suggestive stuff, uhhh bad boy but he’s not a (bad boy) he’s just a (bad) (boy) he’s just no good, like no fr never date guys like this, he may SEEM COOL and give you the dick but girl you will be so embarrassed once u realised u gave up the kitty for a man that genuinely believes tame impala and mac demarco are unheard of and calls himself an empath even though he’s mean to his mum every time she comes over to help with the laundry and has manipulated every girl he’s ever been in the vicinity of but i digress! on with the story!

“Kuroo-!” you yelped in surprised, bed bouncing beneath you. The second he had thrown you down, he ripped off his shirt and made a noise of frustration when he couldn’t shed his skinny jeans fast enough. Brows furrowed, he began hopping furiously to yank them off.

You laughed, much to his annoyance.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep up with that. What’s the rush?”

He sighed, and carefully pulled them off his ankles. Standing up straight, he seemed to have composed himself, with that cocky smirk on his rugged face. Your eyes trailed down his lean, long body. It was all you could do not to scream, he was so gorgeous. He took a few sweeping steps to where you lay, and got right on top of you, hands either side of your head. His eyes bore into you, it made you squirm internally, not that you would ever admit it.

“Just want you so bad, kitten.”

You barked out a laugh as if your heart didn’t jolt at his stupid pet name. It was such a stupid name, but coming from him it made you melt. Again, not like you’d ever admit it.

“Ew, Tetsu don’t call me kitten, it’s cr-“

He cut you off by leaning down and kissing you, you could feel his snake bites against your bottom lip. He groaned softly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He tasted like his sour apple vape, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through it. You could barely contain your butterflies, eyes squeezed closed.

“Come on babe, you know you like it.”

No matter how many times you and Kuroo hung out, it always felt so fresh. Maybe it was because he was exciting, or because he was a little bit wild, you didn’t know.

He leaned down closer to you, getting on his elbows, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and smirked at your breathlessness. With a slender, ring adorned hand, he reached beneath your top and cupped your tits over your bra. He gave them a sharp squeeze and started placing chaste kisses on your neck. He was considerate like that, didn’t leave hickeys because he knew they’d be hard to cover for you. He groaned as he jiggled the fat of your boobs in his hands,

“God, you have the nicest tits, babe.”

You had been dating for nearly 3 months now, if that was what it was. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what you were. You hang out all the time at his or your place, there was rarely a time when you didn’t have an ache between your legs, one way or another. He didn’t really take you on ‘dates’ but chatting to him was fun in itself, you didn’t need to go out to do that. He didn’t necessarily say romantic stuff either... but he didn’t not say romantic stuff either? He beat up your ex at a party one time! That had to mean something right? He exactly wouldn’t tell you how he felt but he showed you, kissing your cheek or tilting your chin up to look at him or kissing your neck or feeling you up. But that usually led to sex, so you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like you only screwed though, you watched your favourite movies together... although the last couple times he just started fingering you. You showed him your playlists? No no, he showed you his playlists, his sex playlists. There seemed to be a common theme here. But... there were times, afterwards, when he would pull in you so tight, tell you how good you were for him, how well you did, how pretty you looked. Any doubts you had were gone after a few hushed words on his tobacco reeking rickety old bed. You’d never really had a relationship like this before, but you assumed it was just because Kuroo was so chill. You were probably boyfriend and girlfriend, he just didn’t feel the need to announce it, he was laidback like that. So what if you guys had a lot of sex? Weren’t you a new couple? Wasn’t this just the honeymoon stage were you can’t get your hands off each other? You didn’t want to seem high maintenance and nag, so you let it be. He was sweet enough to you, right now everything was good.

Until it wasn’t.

A clatter sounded downstairs, the door slamming open against the hallway wall.

“Kuroo! Hey man, I brought some California!”, a voice called from bellow.

Kuroo broke away immediately, spit trailing from your neck to his pink lips.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Kuroo mumbled, pushing off the bed and scrambling the pick up his discarded clothes and shove them back on.

You sat up, disgruntled, rearranging your bra strap from were he’d kneaded at it.

“What’s wrong? Who is that?”

He shot you a glance before continuing to yank back on his jeans.

“Uh, so change of plan, I can’t do tonight. I need you to go home. Discreetly.”

What?

“What? Tetsu, I’m already here,” you scoffed.

What was going on?

Why was he acting like this?

You had never seen him so... frantic.

“I know babe, and I’m really sorry about that, but my friends are here early than I said.”

“So? Can’t I meet your friends?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, just let out an exasperated breath, zipping up his fly.

“Well, yeah you can meet them, just not with me. I don’t want them knowing that I-“

He cut himself off, but you had heard enough to understand.

There was a beat of silence, only disturbed by Kuroo’s friends calling for him.

Your mouth hung open, and you scoffed in shock.

You shouldn’t be surprised really. It’s so obvious now that you think about it. So that’s what this was. That explains everything. He didn’t really like you, he was just using you. That’s why he didn’t take you anywhere, or why he didn’t show you he cared. It was because he didn’t. He wasn’t “afraid of getting close to people” or “emotionally distant”, he was just upfront about not giving two shits about you aside from your vagina. I guess he didn’t want his friends to know he was furiously screwing a fat girl any chance he got. He was embarrassed of you. You were something to be ashamed of. Your stomach jerked as you got to your feet. You were pissed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t really hurt. You had liked him. A lot.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You could see the panic in his eyes, it was quite funny actually. Of course you new what it meant, but it still made you feel a little better to watch his eyes widen like that, to hold a shred of power over him.

“I mean- well I didn’t- come on babe you know I didn’t mean it like that-“ he laughed nervously, not noticing the footsteps in the landing. You rolled your eyes. You may have been naive, but you certainly weren’t going to fall for his shit again. Whatever he spouted.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Just say it, your embarrassed of me.”

“Y/N, please, don’t you think-“

Two men burst through the door, one with spiked grey hair and one with fluffy black hair.

“Kuroo! What the hell are you doing up here we’ve been-“ the grey haired one, stopped when his eyes went from a shirtless Kuroo to you.

Your eyes flickered to Kuroo, he looked mortified.

“Ah. I see. Well, Akaashi, we better give these two some time, we can just-“

“Oh no, I was just leaving,” you grabbed your jacket from on top of his chest of drawers and turned back to the two men, putting on a big smile, adrenaline and fury spurring you on.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Your eyes shot to Kuroo, who looking like get was about to shit himself.

“You probably haven’t heard of me, me and Kuroo have actually been having sex for three months. He kept it a secret because he’s embarrassed of me. We should hang out soon though!”

“Y/N-!” Kuroo yelled, exasperation clear in his tone, but you were already descending the stairs.

He came into the hall, hands rubbing his temples.

“Y/N just come talk for a second, I can-“

But he was cut off by the door slamming.

You got in your car parked outside and sped away.

The whir of the engine and the monotony of the roads cleared your mind a bit, a mist of anger still remaining.

You can’t believe you let yourself be tricked. you were a fully grown woman, but you had been reeled in hook, line and sinker. Not only had you been reeled in, you have been reeled in by a man that still had tik tok LED lights in his room and a fucking monster can collection at the age of 24 fucking years old. The more you thought about him, the more you realised how much of an emo loser he was. Of course you were still hurting, but it was more of the angry hurt you feel when it turns out your crush is homophobic or something (been there done that, don’t ask). He was a waste of oxygen, you had decided by the time you made it back to your apartment. A waste of perfectly good space that could most definitely not get the kitty anymore. You got inside your house, pulled on some comfies and got on facetime with your friends.You told them all about what happened, and they passionately bitched about him with you, confirming your suspicion that they never liked him in the first place. They also told you to forget about his existence, he wasn’t worth a slither of your brain power, he was dirt compared to you. All in all, you felt marginally better, saying goodbye to your friends while they still giggled about how stupid Kuroo’s hair was.

This was just a speed bump, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, you would get over this.

Fast.

“Who’s Bokuto been talking to all night?” Yamamoto leaned over to ask Lev, shouting over the blaring music.

It was a week after you had thrown Kuroo to the curb, and he was out with a couple of volleyball friends, some from Nekoma, but there was also Bokuto with them.

“I’m not sure. I think it’s Y/N something? She’s in class. She’s pretty chill.”

Kuroo’s ears perked up, and he turned around to face his friends up against the bar.

“Bokuto’s talking to who?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Y/N. She goes to my-“

“I know who Y/N is,” kuroo snapped, taking a swig of the beer in his hand and scanning the dance floor for either one of you. He found bokuto first, shoulder against the wall, holding a drink as he leant down to have you whisper something in his ear. That’s when Kuroo paid attention to you. You looked... you looked gorgeous. He felt jealousy creep up inside him. How many times had you been out looking like that since you broke things off? How many guys had you slept with since? How dare Bokuto chat you up when he knew you two had been a thing? Wasn’t he meant to be Kuroo’s friend? As Kuroo wound himself up, you and bokuto continued your extremely pleasant conversation.

“I just wanna say, sorry about Kuroo. He’s a real bonehead, but we’ve been friends since high school so I can’t ditch him.”

You snorted into your cocktail.

“What?”

“Bonehead?”

He frowned and straightened up indignantly.

“Yeah, and? What’s wrong with bonehead?”

“No no, nothing, it’s just very Legally Blonde.”

He beamed down at you.

“I love Legally Blonde!”

“You do? Me too!”

This big beefy man was very cute, you had been talking for nearly three hours now, but you never ran out of things to say. And, aside from the obligatory introduction compliments, he had not made any move to try and get you into a wendy’s bathroom as quick as possible, which you couldn’t say of yours and kuroo’s first meeting.

He had dreamy eyes, you noted as he smiled for the nth time that night.

“Whose your favourite-?”

“What the fuck are you doing man?”

You glanced scathingly over to the familiar face of your old fling.

“What?” Bokuto asked back, clearly done with his friends bad boy shtick.

“Why are you talking to her when... when you know?”

“What’s there to know? I’m talking to her because I want to, and she wants to.”

He looked over to you for approval.

“Right?”

You nodded, a little nervous. You hated Kuroo’s guts, but you knew how weirdly possessive he was, you didn’t wanna cause trouble for Bokuto.

“See? Now I don’t think she wants to see you, right?”

He looked at you again. You nodded again.

“Ok? You guys are over, now are we done?”

Kuroo huffed. His eyes flitted from Bokuto to you, remembering you were there most likely, and he scowled.

“No, we aren’t done, what are you trying to pull anyway? Trying to piss me off by talking to someone I know? Are you really that petty? Well, your little plan is working, so just-just stop, ok?”

You felt like screaming. You had just come out here to have a nice time, not listen to Kuroo’s narcissistic whining.

“Can you just fuck off? Was I not clear enough or something? You’re dead to me, Kuroo. I’m just trying to have a nice night.”

Kuroo’s mouth gaped open. He had never been spoken to like that, never. He clenched his fists at his sides and his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky I gave you the time of day, fat ugly slut.”

He grabbed Bokuto’s shoulder roughly, turning him to face him completely.

“Hey man, thanks for clearing up my sloppy seconds, really good of you. Good to know I’ve got great friends like you.”

Those were the last things out of Kuroo’s mouth before bokuto landed a punch on his cheek, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re a fucking asshole man,” Bokuto grunted.

He stepped over where Kuroo lay, and held out a hand for you to step over too. You took it quietly and trailed along behind him to the door, fingers still locked. His hands were warm, and big. Kuroo’s face must hurt right now. The thought made you smile. He held the door open for you before sighing, resting his back against the wall. You stood in front of him, twiddling with your fingers.

“I am so sorry about that,” You apologised, embarrassed and shaken by the scene Kuroo had made, “I shouldn’t have wound him up, and I shouldn’t have talked to you after I knew you guys were friends, I promise I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry for not making him leave right away. And either way,” he gently reached for your hand again, and you let him take it,”I’m glad you talked to me. I’d like it if you talked to me even more.”

DISCLAIMER FOR KUROO STANS!!!! I DONT THINK HIS HAIR IS STUPID!!! it’s just when ur bestie is going thru a break up or anything entailing a male you shit talk everything about him to high hell, doesn’t matter if he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. also i have no ill will towards kuroo nor any of the characters i write shit bag fan fics about i just like to complain any way i hope you enjoyed! reblogs and replies always appreciated!!!

#haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! #hq x y/n #haikyu angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq x reader #angst #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsurou #bo x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader

[from-a-reckless-writer]

ii. secret.

read on ao3

Lena Luthor dies a villain.

Her death took out half the population in the vicinity. A blinding white light piercing through the National City skyline. A deafening boom heard 5 cities over. An explosion so great, even Supergirl was knocked dead.

And so, Lena Luthor dies a villain.

Alone and young. And so, so bitter. An accomplice and ally to Lex Luthor.

Some would even say she was a greater, far more cunning, far more terrifying force than Lex.

There were rumors that the woman had magic at the end of it all. That no one person could be capable of that much destruction without the help of something inhuman.

But well, rumors were all it can be, especially when all possible witnesses perished along with the Luthors.

******

Weeks later, Andrea Rojas holds a memorial event for Lena Luthor; protesters burn the venue to the ground.

Months later, Supergirl returns to the world. More radiant than ever. More alive than ever. Stronger. Better.

Years later, National City recovers fully from the whole catastrophe.

Supergirl is reported to most frequently be seen in the memorial square for the fallen victims. A dozen paparazzi pictures of the caped heroine quietly walking, sometimes whispering under breath.

Praying, somebody on a CatCo article comments. She’s always praying whenever we see her there.

****** The closet doors burst open and out steps Alex Danvers.

A colorful stream of expletives coming right along with her, “Fuckin’ fur coats, goddamn hangers, fucking hitting me in the face—”

“Took you long enough,” a familiar voice greets her, “where the hell have you been? And why are you so...dirty? If you track mud on my carpet I swear to God, Alex—”

“I was cleaning your grave, okay?” she snaps, setting down a bucket filled with various cleaning supplies, that Lena’s just now noticing, on said carpet.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex huffs about, crossing her arms, “You don’t have to make a big deal about it. I don’t want to do it again, it’s a bitch for my back pain. I was just pissed about the graffiti. You’d think people would have better manners than defacing the grave of a dead woman. If only they—”

“Thank you, Alex,” she cuts her off, a shy smile gracing her face. She really doesn’t want to hear about the rest of it. And if Alex doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, then no big deal shall be made.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” she says then, and Alex just nods, grabs her bucket of supplies again and turns to leave.

Although not before saying, “Remind me again why you let Kara win? With the portal?”

Lena just shrugs, dark hair escaping out of her messy bun at the movement.

“She said she’s always wanted to go to Narnia.”

Alex shakes her head, rolls her eyes, “Whipped.”

And well, that sounds about right.

******

There’s a documentary on Netflix about the Luthors. Lena’s face in black and white, on the preview banner, a big red X drawn over it.

Kara snaps the remote in half.

Lena reaches over the blanket, grabs her hand, flicks the TV off with only a swish of her fingers and a glitter of sparks.

“C’mere,” she says, tugging gently, till she has a lapful of Krytonian draped over her. Lena traces her fingers over the crinkle between Kara’s brow, smooths them out, thumb dragging across lips till it pulls to a soft smile.

“We know the truth,” she tells her, “and that’s enough.”

“It’s not fair.”

Nothing ever is.

******

“How’re the kids?” She asks, one hand whisking eggs, the other holding the bowl steady.

“Oh, you know, asking me a thousand silly questions a day. Driving Alex crazy. Never letting me sleep. They’re perfect, really,” Kelly says, and Lena hums in response. Before she catches Kelly popping a blueberry in her mouth, a crime punishable by Lena Luthor’s death stare.

“Those are for the muffins.” A foam covered whisk points dangerously to Kelly’s chest.

She raises both arms in surrender, palms opening, dropping the remaining three blueberries onto the counter.

“You know, I’ve seen you do it a thousand times, yet it still doesn’t fail to surprise me.”

Lena concludes she’s talking about the baking tray hovering in the air, a feet away from them, greasing itself. Or maybe it’s the soup at the stove with a ladle stirring itself.

“What can I say,” Lena quips, smirking, “I’m magical like that.”

******

Andrea finds her on a Tuesday.

One minute Lena is reading quietly on her front porch, the next, there is an explosion of sound in her living room. She throws open her door, magical energy sizzling at her fingertips.

The sight that greets her stops her in her tracks. Acrata pinning Supergirl down, their coffee table destroyed. She sighs internally, she loved that coffee table. It was a wedding gift from Nia and Brainy.

“I knew it,” Andrea whispers, her grip slackens around the hero's throat. She stands up slowly, as if afraid that if she moved too fast Lena would disappear. She leaves Supergirl gasping on the floor; materializes in front of Lena in a cloud of black smoke.

“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.” She sobs into Lena’s blouse, arms wrapped tightly around her. Lena embraces her on instinct, her eyes closing briefly, before opening up again to check on Kara dusting herself off.

“Andrea,” Lena croaks, “you can’t tell anyone.”

You can’t tell anyone I’m alive. You can’t tell anyone how I tricked Lex, how I saved Supergirl, how I saved National City.

“Nobody will know,” Andrea promises her.

******

There is a cottage by the woods that nobody else sees, where every Sunday a blonde woman rips apart pieces of wood with her bare hands, where a pale woman with even paler hands grows crops from the barren earth within seconds, where the closet hides cities instead of clothes, where a dead woman and a hero spend their lives in bliss.

******

It has been ten years, her hair is more gray than blonde now, her skin more wrinkled than smooth, her hearing though? Her hearing is still better than ever. And it has been ten years since she’s heard that tell-tale whoosh of a cape, it’s been a decade and still, the sound brings her the same thrill, the same adrenaline.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Supergirl? Or should I say, Superwoman, now?”

And oh-

She did not come alone.

Lena Luthor is set gently down on the balcony.

If Cat Grant wasn’t Cat Grant, she’s sure she would’ve already suffered a heart attack from the mere sight of a woman long dead standing breathing and alive in her home. She would’ve shrieked and demanded answers.

“I need a favor,” Kara tells her, stalking closer, hand on her hip. Cat would’ve laughed at that if this were some other time. No need to play the intimidating game with me, Kiera, she would’ve said.

“What is it?”

“I need you to break a story,” she tells her. “You, Cat. I want you, and nobody else to cover this.”

Cat raises her brow at that, she already has an inkling as to what the story might be about.

“A story hmm? This better be good, if I’m to come out of retirement for it.”

This time it’s Lena Luthor who speaks. Cat has been dying to hear what she has to say.

“It’ll be good," she promises her, "It’ll be better than good."

Kara crowds closer to Lena, then; wraps a protective arm on her waist. Cat watches frozen as Lena's index finger lights in flame. What a sight they make.

"You’ll be telling the entire world the last Luthor’s secret.”

#it's already october 2 in my corner of the world so... #yeah. #LOOK I JUST WANT LENA TO LIVE THE COTTAGECORE WITCH LESBIAN DREAM OKAY? #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #if u see a typo no u didnt #supercorptober 2021 #supercorp

[cynettic]

Stay with Me pt.3

Summary - You manage to escape from Scaramouche, if only for a moment before you realize there’s no escape. It only takes until you’re sitting back in your regular spot that you know what you need to do.

Pairings - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Suggestive content, mentions of death, swearing, slight gore / blood 

A/N - Its really hard to make this depressing while I’m vibing to Rasputin. Like no joke- I have it on one of the 1 hour playlists :D

Here you’ll find -  pt.1 and pt.2

He’d left a key.

Scaramouche didnt make mistakes, not while he had you captive in the vicinity of his bedroom. He didnt have room for mistakes, not when you were watching his every movement while he was in your line of sight. 

Sure, he mightve killed a person or two in front of you, but those were necessary mistakes. There was a sign on the door, it specified not to enter. You’d understand that, right?

Thats what he thought at least, lulling himself into belief after belief that you’d be there waiting for him every time. That you’d welcome him with open arms, even if there were chains ensnaring your wrists. That you’d accept your fate at his hands and submit yourself to him.

The Balladeer was a fool.

He’d kept you there for too long, and while you searched for an easy way to escape, time sent your head spinning. Into a spiral that begged only for the wind against your face, back laying on dirt with the familiar chirping up birds waking you up in the morning.

You wanted to go outside.

And when push comes to shove, you had to risk a little more to make it happen. Lure him into bed with kisses while your hands unbuttoned his vest. But what he believed to be alluring contacts was just your way of finding the keys hidden in the back pocket of his shorts.

It wasnt hard to find the one to your cuffs while he was asleep, cuddled in your chest with both arms around your waist as if to get you to stay put. You took the key, hiding them back in his clothing and hoping he didnt notice.

He didnt say anything the next day.

You werent going to wait any longer.

“Oh for fucks sake, why won't the goddamn door open?”

The room was left in tatters behind you, a little gift for Scaramouche once he got back. Turns out a pair of chains can smash up a lot of things, and rage can be used as a great source of strength when contained for such a long time.

But you’d done more than throw the blankets around, cut up the drawers and smash open the windows. Because your fists had bled red when you punched through the glass, puncturing your skin. Your knuckles were an ugly red, bruising already.

Ah, Scaramouche deserved a much better gift.

Gruesome as it was, you rubbed your knuckles against the pale walls. Till the blood stopped coming, till there was a nice little message for the boy which you held so dearly to your heart.

‘Balladeer.’

The first time you’d found out about him being a harbinger he’d told you not to call him by that name. You weren’t someone he associated with by work, you were a treasure to him. That’s why you continued to call him as he pleased, although the temptation always arose.

You were no longer his.

Shoving the door with your hand again, palm fiddling with the handle and groaning when it hardly budged. “Stupid,” you grumbled when the knob began to loosen. Backing up, you charged with your shoulder to the door, full force as the momentum broke the hinges. The door fell down with you along with it.

It was expected, you’d been stuck in the room for a long time, and thats considering you’d sat on the ground for decades. Your body was slight numb, muscles sore and unused for so long. 

“You a-arent supposed to leave your room!”

A young man stood in the hallway along with a woman who looked relatively the same age. The two were wearing uniforms, flinching when you stood up from the debris and off the door. “Excuse me?” You asked, voice unnecessarily icy and stern. But you couldnt care less, you were going to get out of this house, damn anyone who stood in your way.

They both continued to shake when you walked towards them, staggering from side to side. The woman stepped up in front of the man, presenting a brave face. “If you leave the mansion, the harbinger will kill us all!”

“Well then I expect you should be on your way then. Actually…” you gestured to the maze of hallways. “You can lead the way.”

“What…?”

Your hand went limp to your side, an exasperated looking momentarily crossing your face before you sighed. “Im not staying trapped in that room, I’m sorry if that ruins your life, but frankly you're not the one stuck in there are you?” You took an extra step just to intimidate them, eyes wide to make the appearance of crazy. “It would be a great help if you showed me where he hid my vision too.”

“We can show you to the door…” The man began, “But the whereabouts of your vision are unknown, he wouldnt tell us something like that.”

A gift bestowed from the gods, a piece to help me thrive with my ambitions and pursue my goals.

Gone.

You really wished you’d taken to clawing out Scaramouche’s face instead, but you’d take what you got. Right now your main priority was getting out of this place, even if it meant leaving a piece of you behind.

“Door.” Your voice was raspy and there was a terrible feeling that crawled up to your throat, but you didnt have time to be emotional. “Show me where the door is… please.”

The conflict in their eyes dissipates by the time they lead you along, mumbling words between themselves. You didnt bother to try eavesdropping, you were so, so tired. You wanted to go home.

Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

It took a few minutes until you were standing in front of a grand door, almost twice the size of you and just as wide. You then began to notice the decorational plants and furniture that filled the empty space, there wasn't an inch of dust. Even though you could tell none of it was used.

“Hurry,” the man warned when you paused. “I dont know when our master is coming back, but if its soon, we’ll all be screwed.”

You couldnt feel your head as you numbly nodded, hand clenching the knob and flinging the set of doors open. “Thank you,” you merely mumbled, taking your first step out of the house in what felt like forever.

The days after that were a blur, the area around Scaramouche’s house were nothing but void. Empty and filled with forests and vast plains. You knew he didnt like people or socializing in general, but to this extent?

Your only option was to run.

Let your feet take you somewhere, anywhere. It was a constant pattern of running and taking breaks, leaning on a tree and gasping in a few breaths before you were again scurrying through the forest. 

And yet you felt better than you’d felt in past months that you’d been stuck with Scaramouche.

Food became any boar you came across, the claws you’d spent so long hiding with Scaramouche coming to unleash a wrath beyond your comprehension. Till the animal was cut to shreds and no meat was left even to eat. You’d slaughtered it, without intention to eat or benefit for it, you’d killed it just to kill.

“I’m sorry,” you’d sobbed into the ground where you’d buried the harmless animal. Forehead pressed into the dirt as you pleaded for forgiveness to whatever archons would accept it. You couldn't even remember what archons you were supposed to pray to. “Forgive me- forgive me…”

But eventually you found your way around to somewhere you knew. Territory of Inazuma where you could find your way back, back home.

Where was home?

You’d been on the run from the vision hunt decree, abandoning your post for the Kitsune Saiguu for such a thing. Even now that you could return without a vision and as no threat under the decree…

You’d sacrificed everything for your vision.

Where were you to go now…?

Rain patted down, the trees providing only a slight cover as stray drops fell into your matted dirty hair. You didnt mind, it hid the tears that slid down your lifeless face, feet taking you into the far meadows of your hometown. Till you plopped down underneath a tree, knees curled to your chest and arms hugging them close. You were crying.

You were home.

____________________

“Awh,” a ginger haired murmured, elbow resting on the cool wood of the tabletop. “Is little Mouchie sad? I heard your kitty cat escaped~”

A death wish, even fatui that idly minded themselves around the bar knew it. Sipping cold drinks and swirling their cups, the soft chatter was nothing but a distraction from the main course of events. That being the smaller Harbinger who sat sulking in his seat, hunched over with a drink in hand. He’d drank far more than what was on the counter, but everytime he finished a glass, he’d smash it on the ground, watching the fragile glass shatter into pieces.

“I dont have a cat,'' was his only response, tone daring Childe to pursue further. To give him a reason to start throwing the glass in his face instead.

And Childe was an idiot when it came to challenging someone.

“No cat?” The rest of the drink in the taller harbinger’s glass was gone when he threw his head back. “Hmmm, I cant think of what else could’ve had you so enraptured in returning home then~!”

Scaramouche didnt respond, uneven bangs shadowing the bags under his eyes. “Stronger,” he said instead, elbow on the counter and hand outstretched for something. When there was no movement from the man managing the wine, the harbinger looked up. “I need something stronger to drink,” he repeated, voice seething.

“Of c-course!”

The glass was nestled in Scaramouche’s palm in no time, fingers curling around the circular form to down it in seconds. The drink merely slid down his throat in one movement, alcohol burning his senses. It didn’t matter, he was numbed by the growing rage inside of him.

Finally, he turned to the ginger haired boy, eyes hazily dancing along the counter till it reached his fingertips. Up his hand and along his arm, till Scaramouche was staring right into Childe’s eyes. “They escaped,” he admitted softly. “But it’s alright, because I sent something that’ll bring them back.”

Childe paused, raising his drink up away from his lips to pose a question. Hesitation danced along his features before he brought the glass back, he’d rather not provoke the shorter male any further. Wasn’t like he could interfere anyway.

____________________

“That… that…” 

It was preposterous, having returned to that same spot for a day or two and heading back to the hometown you’d once lived in. The one Scaramouche had lived in. There shouldn’t have been an issue, you were solely gathering supplies for the sake of it, ambition driving you to travel far far away.

Out of Inazuma.

It was your new beginning, convincing yourself that you didn't need a vision. Finding some sort of purpose before Scaramouche shattered the vision and your life along with it. You’d seen how people had reacted when it had been ingrained in the statue, neutralized and broken. They lost hope, purpose and aspirations for anything new.

It’s not like the Raiden Shogun took my vision.

But you’d taken that fact for granted, expecting some sort of new start without Scaramouche. A victory, getting away from him just for a split second and getting out of Inazuma altogether, you’d never see him again.

Until you got his message.

“How the hell…” You crushed the note until it was just crumbled paper in your hand, slowly leaning on the stone wall. “Piece of shit… what kind of person even…” 

Not only did he manage to find you, but without making his presence known, he’d tugged at your one weakness with an ease that had you down on your knees.

You threw the paper to the ground, deliberate as you stared past the alleyway. Pensive as you considered your options. Damn, what options did you even have? You’d been an idiot to underestimate Scaramouche, he wasn’t a child, you knew that… but archons he seemed like one when he was with you. Shown you a vulnerability he wanted only you to see. But maybe that had been part of his plan all along, until all you believed was his soft demeanor.

He may act like a child, but he’s a harbinger.

You stared down at the crumbled piece of paper in disgust.

Not only that, but he has no regard for human life.

Either way, you’d lived decades more than him. You could face him, you would present yourself to him just as he expected you to. Even when everything in you rejected the idea, sobbed at the thought of returning to that house, those chains. Being locked up and confined only for the purpose of coddling a small boy, a selfish boy, a cruel boy. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’d figure out a way, and this time you wouldn’t rule out the option of his death.

———————

Oh darling Y/n, how have you been?

I hope this letter reaches you rather soon, we both have much to discuss, no? About me, about you, and much more. You see, I’ve taken up quite a distaste to your little friends. Stone statues in Inazuma as small as Kitsunes truly hold no purpose, what will they do, come back to life? Haha, I should think not. I’ve already arranged to have them demolished, who knows what kind of material they might possess. Ah, and of course I’d show you the finishing product, unless you’re willing to come and have a chat with me once more? Under the Sakura tree like we used to, you’ve waited years, I believe you can wait for me?

I hope this letter reaches you in best interests. I’m always looking out for you after all.

Sincerely, your Balladeer

——————

It was raining.

Beautiful weather as you lay sitting there, feet crossed and tucked in the same you’d often do. After all, there was no need to fear the vision hunt decree or the Raiden Shogun. Let them come, let them take care of you before Scaramouche did.

You werent cold, not when the cold drops dampened your clothing, slipping down the length of your spine and drenching your face. Despite having lived in a luxury residency for such a long time, this was where you were most comfortable, enduring whatever the weather had for you, taking it with a smile. Because you were waiting…

The Kitsune Saiguu was a distant memory.

You were waiting for Scaramouche, the young boy that often bound into the field in lengthy strides, childlike wonder in his eyes. The one who’d cried when the other kids pushed him away, the one that just wanted to be praised. You’d held him in your arms, and now, even knowing the results, you wouldnt have done differently.

He was just a boy.

Just a boy when he joined the fatui, looking for praise that he was given. He created chaos and bellowed orders with a cruelty that was highly looked upon. Told that he was doing well, so he continued to do so.

He’s just a boy.

You wished you’d held him in your arms, if not only for a tad longer. Shield him away from the wrongness of the world, if only for one last time.

Banishing away your hatred for him was hard.

But you found it under the tree, rain soon dimming down to a clouded cold breeze that swept through the meadow. You’d hated him while stuck in the mansion, but you could now see it from a larger point of view. What he did was wrong of course, but you could remember him so vividly now. His small form giggling, tiny arms around your neck. 

“Play with me!”

Was it your fault?

For not holding him tighter? For trying to rectify his bad doings and teach him what was wrong and right? Maybe if your grip was firmer, if you’d spoken to him about the warmth he’d given you that day when playing cards...

“Lazy ass.”

Burying down that pile of worry and insecurities, you took a deep breath in to relax. The edge of your lip perked up, only slightly. “Still terrible with your social skills arent you?”

Slowly securing a dry space under the three with you, Scaramouche sat down. His features were the same ones you’d grown accustomed to at his mansion. Rich clothes, sharp eyes, and the baby face that refused to go away. His movements were soft as he pulled out a deck of cards. The two of you didnt speak as he distributed them between you both. It was tense… no, it felt too much like the warmth form long ago to be tense. You only wished the situation to be different.

“I love you.”

But you could only offer a bitter smile to his words. “I love my vision,” you replied. “I love the Kitsune Saiguu, and I love my friends.”

His touch was gentle when his fingers came to gently cradle your cheek. Holding your face dearly as he peered into your eyes, his were soft. Different from the cruelty he held within, the hatred that burned and destruction that seeked to explode.

You saw a little boy.

Your hand came to press his hand further against your cheek, till you slid his palm to your lips. He appeared so calm when you pressed the first kiss, lips tracing the lines along his palm with all the care in the world.

But you needed to change your view, see him as the man he now was. As the man he had become.

“I love you,” he repeated, and you let go of his hand. It fell limp by his side, cards all but forgotten. There was a much more pressing matter at hand, because you truly needed to see him as he was.

It was necessary if you planned to kill him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact hc #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kitsune reader #yandere scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #reader x scaramouche #scaramouche angst #writing #angst

[mosstliest]

fallen stars always plague the cold

requested?  yes  /   no

r e q u e s t :

Omg hi!!! Ur writing is literally *chefs kiss*

ne ways I'd love to request a c!techno x reader with the frostbitten lips kissing cuz like yk they live in the frozen tundra and im a simp also I'd love to be 🩰 anon if ur opening an anon list!!!

- 🩰 anon

prompt! - 27, kiss with frostbitten lips

pronouns used: they / them

c!technoblade x reader

fluff, angst? (past partners to rivals to lovers speedrun)

cw! mentions of frostbit . swearing  . eye talk bc I’m a sucker for eyes . mentions of past war

1318 words

Coming from L’manberg, where the most drastic climate event were the ever appropriate thunderstorms, it’s safe to say you did not take kindly to the everlasting cold of Snowchester and it’s freezing surroundings. Life in the arctic biome had quickly proven to be unsympathetic, but you’d never been the type to back down from a challenge.

It was on a particularly hostile evening that you found yourself walking alongside none other than Technoblade.

He’d found you in the rather compromising position of almost being killed by an enderman while trying to obtain the means to pearl atop the mountain and offered to walk you home under the argument of “I can’t be associated with someone who died in such an embarrassing way”.

You’d met him before --reluctantly considering him an acquaintance when he first allied with Pogtopia and slowly, between training sessions and long hours of potato farming, you had dared to call him a friend, after weeks of preparing for war, perhaps something more.  neither of you ever risked suggesting a title, but you’d proudly worn his enchanted armor to combat and stood beside him as the tyranny of Schlatt ended on an underwhelming note, the taste of victory still weaved with the bitterness of betrayal as you ended up battling his withers. You’d learnt your lesson and were not willing to forget it.

The two of you had been walking for a good thirty minutes and the silhouette of your cottage was still nowhere to be seen, a month had passed since you relocated to the vicinal hills of Snowchester and you still hadn’t learnt that the customary fur lined attire was never enough to keep you warm but instead of walking faster or rubbing your arms to scare off the cold, you decided to provoke the pigman. No better antidote for frostbite than a bit of entertainment, right?

“So, still on the business of betraying your friends Techno?”

The attractive clean-cut features of the pigman and his eternally stern expression never ceased to stun you, he glanced back at you with snowflakes sticking to his braided hair and no trace of a reaction in his face.

“Still letting everyone push you around y/n?”

Monotone, cold. Maybe the arctic had been the place for him all along

You could have quipped back, but there were so many things left unsaid between you, and there was still a long way to go

“I don’t let anyone push me around, I never have”

“aha”

Hot fury started rising up your throat, he was so unbothered by everything it was exasperating

“We trusted you, Tommy and Tubbo and Wil… we needed you Techno, I needed you! You were my friend and you betrayed me-”

The word friend felt foreign when spoken to him, but this was no time for introspection

“And you still haven’t learnt a thing! Be it Tubbo or Schlatt or even Wilbur, they’re the problem! The gov-”

You flinched at the mention of your dead friend and interrupted the man

“It never had anything to do with the fucking government Techno! We trusted you and you didn’t give a shit”

You blinked away angry tears and turned to face him, the frozen trail forgotten as you both laid raw statements on a creaking table built of long buried feelings

“Y’know, I always considered you the smartest of the bunch, guess you’ve proven me wrong”

“You are the one who hasn’t learnt! I’ve grown Techno, I have changed. You left our country a burning mess and you ran for the fucking hills! You never cared, you never...”

He opened his mouth to answer and closed it as you drifted off mid sentence

“That’s what you think? That I abandoned you because I didn’t care? They called me a war criminal! I’m a damn public enemy now y/n”

Furious tears ran down your cheeks leaving a frozen trail of bitterness

“I had no choice and I- well I wasn’t going to drag you with me! but I cared, I still do I think… about you at least”

A wolf howling in the distance was the only sound breaking the stillness

“You look cold, let’s… let’s just get you home”

“I am not cold, I-”

A particularly inhospitable breeze cut you off and Technoblade couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at how you wrapped your arms around your midsection in a futile attempt to battle the snow, the usual threatening demeanor that had always intrigued the anarchist shattered and the softness underneath it nothing short of endearing. He could have stared at you forever, delicate and fragile under the northern sky, but your lips were turning blue and Technoblade wasn’t about to let all the effort of finishing off the enderman and walking up a mountain for god knows how long go to waste. Without uttering a word, he slipped off his red cape and draped it around your shoulders.

The red material was worn and soft and you let out a sigh of relief as the cloak started warming your body.

“Thanks”

Your voice came out a resigned whisper and if it weren’t for the eternal silence of the landscape around you, Techno wouldn't have been able to hear it.

You hadn’t been looking for closure, you had wanted to provoke him, fishing for a reaction, a quip or an insult. In some twisted way, you had missed him.

Everything stayed quiet for a second. his normally virtuous hand still stuck in mid air, barely missing a grasp on the fur lining his cloak. You’d never paid much thought to The Blade’s height, but now, as he towered over you, close enough that you could hear him breathe, you wished you’d taken Eret up on that platform boots shopping trip invitation years ago.

Technoblade was much less preoccupied with your height difference and more concerned with the fact that you were possibly the most enchanting person he’d ever laid eyes on. He wondered if he’d noticed before --while you rotted away together on the dimly lit cavern they had insisted on calling a nation--, how your eyes were prettier than the moon; brighter and fuller and bewitching in every sense of the word.

He wondered if a million multicolored polar lights would ever be as hypnotic as the coat of frozen dew that laced your eyelashes and made them shine like stars under the rays of the dusk. In a reckless motion, Technoblade reached his hand and wiped a stray shortleaf that had landed on your cheekbone, he watched in awe as you leaned against his touch.

Neither of you spoke, neither moved an inch, too scared of shattering the fragile tension outstretched between you.

Later, when trying to recall this moment, neither of you could decide on who leaned in first, but when your frostbitten lips met for the first time the world seemed to blur, or, perhaps, you finally started to see clearly.

Techno’s right hand cradled your cheek and his left traveled shy and trembling to your neck, carefully deepening the kiss. you melted onto his embrace with a small gasp, both hands pressed firmly against his chest treasuring the feeling of his beating heart against your skin.

His lips were ice and tasted like the night and his mouth was burning hot and desperate and his breath was shaky and the snow was falling heavier than before but it was fine, any trace of cold had long banished and the rhythmic melody of synchronized heartbeats melted the snow before it reached the ground.

You kissed for what could have been hours of long minutes or short fused seconds with no one but the stars and the moon and the ice as witnesses.

When you opened your eyes and looked up at Techno, his cheeks were flushed a dark crimson and he was blinking fast, all pink shadows and golden angles against the white. Lean and powerful as he’d always been and suddenly; forgiving him appeared to be a rather tempting option.

ANIME TECHNO GO BRRR

I feel like this came off a bit rushed but I really loved this request and wanted to finish it up as quick as posible.

Masterlist should be up soon and I am opening an anon list if you're interested :^)

have a lovely morning/day/evening/night <3

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[h0neypjm]

Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion. 

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 

“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 

“I'm sorry.” 

He says it genuinely. 

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 

Inhale, exhale. 

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 

He feels infinite.

Taglist <3 

@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae​ @emrysts @inspinkyring​​

#ficswithluv #h0neypjm #mine #jungkook #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jimin #taehyung #hoseok #seokjin #yoongi #namjoon

[hotdamnhunnam]

Congrats on the 2k followers!! 🥳I am a recent follower and am absolutely in love with your writing (and Charlie ofc)... so can I please request a fic for ironhead with these emojis: 💯🤠🍑 - go crazy and congrats again! (:

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats and kind words! 💗

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Wrangler on My Booty

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, Will being a sex god with a magic ass and monster cock Word Count: ~1.1k Emoji Prompt: 💯🤠🍑 (key words are in bold)

“You know what’s really underrated, Will?”

Your boyfriend casts a backward glance at you, over his shoulder where you’re walking just behind him as you often like to do. You like the view. You’ve been with Ironhead for months and you appreciate it still.

Will’s so attractive it could kill. He’s smirking slightly as he carries on with his signature strut, amused that everything about him makes you such a total slut. “What?”

Come up closer, placing your chin on his shoulder. Take a firm hold of his butt cheek so he knows just what you mean. “The way your ass looks in dem jeans.”

Dish out a playful smack then step back to admire it again while he just shakes his head and snickers at you rudely.

“Damn, it’s such a thing of beauty…”

All of a sudden then he says something you never thought you’d hear, as you keep ogling his rear. “You like that wrangler on my booty?”

Jesus Christ you just about die when those words roll off his tongue. “Will, you did not just quote a line out of a Lil Nas X song!”

He shrugs, as you laugh your ass off while your arms reach around from behind to wrap him in a hug. “Babygirl, I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

“… was that an attempt at a cowboy accent?”

“Darlin’, what’re you callin’ attempt? Know I nailed that shit 100 percent.”

You’re both bursting in laughter and ten seconds later end up making out in the heated backseat of his truck.

“You know what really sucks?” you complain as you grope his magnificent ass through his jean pockets—just to feel it makes your already wet pussy start dripping buckets. “The fact that I don’t ever get to see this booty when we fuck.”

He pauses where he hovers over you, wheels spinning in his iron head for just a second till a brilliant idea sets fire to his eyes of blue. The way this sex god thinks and breathes and blinks is so painfully hot. “Mmm, hold that thought.”

Will knows exactly how to satisfy his slut; he’s figured out a way to fuck you while he treats you to a view of this divine booty he’s got.

***************

“Oh my God Will this place is disgustaaang…”

It really is but it’s the fucking perfect place to ride him like a mustang.

Of all the cowboy-themed motels in the vicinity, your man made sure to choose a place that’s not too cheap or filthy. That’s not saying much though given that this place is straight up shitty—but he just had one priority: a big overhead mirror right above the bed specifically.

You look up at the ceiling as you step into your room and realize what he’d planned immediately. Makes you fucking giddy.

“Yes yes yesss…!” you squeal in glee, aroused to madness, as he throws you on the mattress, somehow all at once romantically and straight up pornographically. You don’t know how he does it but he does everything magically.

“Like what you see, honey?” he taunts as he slides off your sleeveless dress, while you gaze up over his shoulder in the mirror and the sight renders you speechless. “Like these jeans on me? I bet you’ll like ‘em even better off me…”

Whimper loudly as he kisses your neck hungrily and roughly yet so softly.

“Mmm yeah moan for me, that’s lovely.”

What the actual fuck Miller?! Guess you should’ve known the sex would slay in every way when you got with a ladykiller.

You start reaching down to fumble with his belt and tug the zipper of his fly while he strips off his shirt. Look in the mirror so that you can see the contours of his broad muscular back, and holy shit does that distract—he is a god and he knows it and that’s a fact..

Thank fuck that Will still has his wits about him while you suffer from a motherfucking heart attack. He stays on track—knows just how bad you need the view—just what he brought you here to do… and soon enough his jeans are slipping down his hips and then the glory of his ass is visible there in the mirror and your gaping jaw goes slack. You scream out so loud that you’re shocked the mirror didn’t fucking crack.

He hasn’t even started fucking you just yet; already you’re soaking and pretty sure you’ve never been so wet.

Will is a sucker for how wet you get. He licks his luscious lips and smirks ‘cause he’s a cocky motherfucker as he swipes the throbbing tip of his dick up and down your slick sensitive folds. Sliding the length of it against your clit and teasing at your hole.

“So fuckin’ juicy,” he growls out in satisfaction, getting off on your reactions. You’re still gawking at his ass up in the mirror and it’s absolute perfection. “Mmm, you’re such a dirty slut for me. I know you’re lovin’ what you see. Look what it’s doin’ to this pretty little pussy.”

He is too much honestly—and just when he’s too much… completely overwhelming you with every word and every touch… that’s when he gives you that much more obviously.

That’s when he rams his massive cock deep in your cunt and starts to rail you like a whore. He rails you monstrously. Knows this is what you live for. You’re his slut and that is all you’ll ever want to be.

And for the first time in your life you get to see the fucking view, of Will Ironhead Miller’s booty clenching and thrusting while he is fucking you.

It’s such a dream cum fucking true.

Those sculpted cheeks… the power radiating from those firm round globes of muscle makes you weak… the way they tense and squeeze and flex… you’re having trouble now believing that you’re here on earth this evening—getting ravaged by a living, breathing, walking, talking, fucking god of sex…

But so you are and though this is the first time that you get to watch his ass—while here in bed, spread beneath your beloved Ironhead—you’re damn sure it won’t be the last.

The only thing better than wrangler on that booty… is the power and the danger of that ass beautifully bare, clear in the mirror overhead for you to stare. It truly is a thing of fucking beauty.

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