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matryosika · 6 months

Text

Incoming Call

Pairing — Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount — 3,394 words Genre — Smut (18+) Includes — Suggestive content. Smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — This honestly came out of the blue. I was just feeling like phone sex and exhibitionism and this is what I ended up writing, haha. I hope you like it, it's just a silly little drabble in which my writer's block didn't get the best of me. I am actually proud I could come up with something, but it's not as filthy as other of my works. Please remember that english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes in advanced! If you wish to support my blog further, please reblog and comment, leave an ask and check my pinned post for my ko-fi!

Smut warnings — Dirty talk. Phone sex and exhibitionism if you squint. Masturbation (m), Hyunjin is kind of a perv but it's very very tame. Use of petnames (baby), mentions of creampies, and other sexual fantasies. Hyunjin is needy and desperate. Reader's mom interrupts the hated moment (not cool!).

Time zones.

By far your most terrible enemies these days.

It wasn't only the jet lag that threw you off from coming back home, but the abysmal time difference between you and your boyfriend —he goes to bed right before you wake up, and his most active time is when you are about to sleep.

It has been a couple of days, but texting with him has been an absolute nightmare.

“It’s only a week,” you reassured him as he waved you goodbye at the airport. His lower lip was slightly pouting, and his usually straight eyebrows were raised in a subtle furrow. “I’m sure you’ll live, Hyunjin”.

“Yeah but I wanted to come with you,” there was genuine pity in his voice and you knew he meant it —he never misses a chance to join you on your trips back home, or meeting your parents.

Because of how busy he has been, and the fact that this trip was practically nonexistent a week before, he just couldn't ask for a time off at work this time.

“We’re spending Christmas there this year,” you tried to cheer him up, rubbing his arm with solace, “time flies by, anyways”.

Hyunjin nodded, resigning himself to the imminent struggle of being hours and miles apart from each other.

“Text me when you get there, yeah?” He planted a chaste kiss on your forehead and held you tightly. “Text me all the time, I’ll reply when I can, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, and kept his promise throughout the whole trip.

You texted him when you got to your home country, and you also texted him a picture of your first meal there. You told him all about the weather, how happy your parents were to see you after a while and the things you missed the most.

He promised he would reply when he could, but you knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Or at least not for a couple of more hours, until he woke up.

And basically, that has been the whole dynamic all along —you text him everything about your day at a given time, and he texts you everything about his day at a given time as well. There's very little conversation happening in between, but it's understandable.

By day 3, Hyunjin learned to convert time zones. If it is morning for him, it is late afternoon for you. If it is his late night, you're probably just waking up.

He knows when to text you —if he is expecting a quick response— and knows when you're sleeping. Taking all that into account, Hyunjin tries to make the most of the time that's actually convenient for the two of you to talk.

[08:19 a.m., Hyunjin: Baby]

With furrowed eyebrows, your fingers type away faster than your mind can comprehend it.

[08:19 a.m., You: Shouldn’t you be asleep?]

[08:19 a.m., You: Isn’t it like 11 p.m. in Seoul?]

He is a night owl. Always have been.

But he has been trying really hard to adopt a healthier sleeping schedule, so seeing him online past 10 p.m. it's unusual these days.

“Everything alright?” Your father asks, picking up on the subtle furrow of your brows.

“Yeah, I’m just talking to Hyunjin,” with your phone in one hand, and the other busy with a fork on your breakfast, you await his response.

“It’s such a shame he couldn’t make it,” your mother adds, “it has been a while since we last met him”.

At that moment, when your mom and dad start talking about how great of a guy he is and how happy they’re to have him as part of the family, your phone vibrates yet again in your hand.

[08:21 a.m., Hyunjin: Attachment: one image]

[08:21 a.m., Hyunjin: Can you see how much I miss you?]

If it wasn’t for the glass of water you smartly chugged down to hide your coughs, you would have choked on a piece of fruit. Inevitably, and after a failed attempt to conceal the embarrassing moment, your parents' eyes are fixed on you with concern.

“Sorry,” you excuse yourself, cleaning your lips with a napkin while you relentlessly try to put your phone away from anyone’s sight.

“Are you alright?” your mother asks this time, softly hitting your back

“Yes,” you nod swiftly. “I just- the food kind of went into the wrong pipe”.

On your lap, your phone keeps vibrating —one after another, you lose count after message number 4.

[08:22 a.m., Hyunjin: God, I miss your body so much]

[08:22 a.m., Hyunjin: Just want you here for me. Don't want anyone else to have you right now]

[08:23 a.m., Hyunjin: My hand isn't enough. It doesn't feel like your pussy does]

[08:23 a.m., Hyunjin: Can you come back to me now? Lay underneath me and let me have my way with you?]

[08:24 a.m., Hyunjin: You have no idea how fucking hard I am]

You gulp loudly.

“What do you think?” It's only when your mother directs a question at you that you snap out of your trance.

“Huh?”

“What do you think about spending Christmas in some beautiful cabins? They're like 45 minutes away from the city,” she continues, offering you some of the context you missed because of Hyunjin’s heated messages.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply with hesitation. Not because of the idea, but because you really can’t process anything other than the warmth between your legs. “I- uh, I have to go to the restroom”.

For all he knows, you're lying comfortably in your bed as this is around the time you usually wake up. So damned you, for not letting Hyunjin know that today you are having breakfast with your family at a restaurant. And damned him for putting you into an awkward situation without even knowing of it.

[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Can I call you?]

[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Want to hear your voice]

[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Please, talk to me. Tell me anything you want. Just let me hear that pretty voice of yours]

[08:27 a.m., Hyunjin: Fuck it]

[08:27 a.m., Hyunijn: I’m calling you]

Good luck can’t be any more useful than right now, that you enter the restaurant’s restroom with your fingers crossed and an immense feeling of relief when you see every single stall open.

And, as if on cue, the soft piano melody coming from your phone's speakers tells you that Hyunjin stuck up to his last message.

“Are you busy?” It’s the first thing he says, with a hoarse voice and a hitched breath.

“I’m at a restaurant,” you reply with just a little bit of shame in your tone. “With my parents”.

Your boyfriend lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit I’m- I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” you can hear him panicking, maybe because he thinks you're upset. But in reality, it's all quite the opposite. “I’ll call you later just- forget I even- whatever, I’ll call you another time”.

“No,” you rush to say, locking yourself into one of the bathroom stalls. “Don’t hang up, I can- I’m at the restroom”.

There's a quick seconds of silence from the other line as Hyunjin gathers the remaining coherent thoughts after getting to hear your voice. “Is it- are there other people there?”

“For now it’s just me,” you reassure him.

“Just you?” He asks, and you hum in response. “I’m sorry for calling it’s just- God, I can’t spend another day without you”.

The wet, sloppy slow sounds paired with the laziness of his voice can only give you a hint of what he is doing.

“Are you- masturbating?”

It's not like you're a prude, but this whole thing is taking you by surprise. You're always together, so there's no need for phone sex or anything of that sort. Sexting isn’t unusual, but this is definitely a first.

“Yeah,” he replies with a raspy scoff. “Want me to stop?”

“No, I- no,” when you encourage him to continue, the lewd, wet sounds start to become more and more frequent —increasingly loud for you to hear them, “keep going”.

Hyunjin lets out a deep sigh of frustration.

“Do you miss me too?” he asks, biting down his lower lip to prevent any whimpers from falling from them.

“Yes,” with shortness of breath you admit. “I miss you too,”.

“Yeah?” He whispers under his breath, letting small grunts make their way to your ears. “I miss you badly. Can’t stop thinking about you- shit, can’t stop thinking about how pretty you look when you’re naked in my bed”.

The compliments, all together, make your cheeks and body grow hotter. But inevitably, they force you to fix your gaze under the bathroom stall, in that little gap between it and the floor. There’s no sound nor signals of footsteps approaching, but the adrenaline of hearing him say such dirty things when you're out in public is definitely a new experience.

You can't say you hate it.

“Baby,” Hyunjin moans. And although you can’t see it, you can take a wild guess what he looks like right now: head kicked back, legs spread, his hand and dick glistening with lube, or lotion, or maybe spit. You can picture how pretty his face is right now, contorted in pleasure, with his lips all swollen from licking and biting them, eyes completely white while he bucks his hips up against his fist. “Talk to me, tell me about your plans for the day”.

You can’t help but laugh a little in the midst of the tension.

“You want me to- talk about my day while you masturbate?”

“Well,” he scoffs under his breath. “I don’t expect you to say dirty stuff while you’re locked in a public restroom where anyone can walk in”.

“Right,” you nod to yourself. “But I don't understand what that would do for you”.

“I like your voice,” your boyfriend lets out a deep exhale of relief. “I can get off just by listening to it, doesn’t matter what you’re talking about”.

“You’re crazy,” a soft chuckle falls from your lips. “You’re not even going to pay attention to me”.

“Please?” you can hear a small whimper, and that alone convinces you.

“Okay well,” you clear your throat before continuing, wondering how this could arouse him. But he is asking you something that is nowhere near difficult, so you comply. “I’m having breakfast with my parents right now”.

“Aha,” Hyunjin hums, and if you play close attention you can hear his hand sliding up and down his cock. All you're left with is your imagination. “Keep going”.

“I will meet with a friend later, we’re going to grab some coffee”.

Despite the weirdness of it all, there's something enticing about knowing he is using you, in some way, to get off. You're only talking about your day. But knowing your boyfriend is masturbating to the sound of your voice is arousing.

“Then I’ll go back home, get some work done,” you continue. “Think about you, think about how much I miss you right now”.

The line goes silent, except for a mixture of gasps and groans.

“You’re going to think about me?” Hyunjin asks, his silky voice sending shivers down your spine. “You’re going to touch yourself thinking about me?”

“Yes,” of course he doesn't expect you to talk dirty to him. But that never meant he couldn't say that kind of stuff to you. At that, you're at a disadvantage. No matter how turned on you're getting, there's nothing you can do about it and Hyunjin sort of feels thrilled because of it.

“You’re going to fuck my pussy with those fingers of you?”

God, how much you hate him for that. How he talks about your body as if it is his, reminding you that you belong to him and him only.

You only hate it because it never fails to arouse you.

“Y-yes Hyune,” you reply, swallowing thickly. You're aware you can't say anything too obscene, but you still can engage in that kind of conversation without airing yourself too much. “Or should I- use something else?”

“You packed your toys?” your boyfriend lets out a satisfied groan at your hum of agreement. You two are just so alike. “Which one are you using tonight, baby?”

“The transparent one”.

“The transparent one?” he thinks about it for a second, and immediately remembers which one you're referring to. “Thought you were going for the wand because it's your favorite, but I'm guessing you miss feeling full?”

“Aha,” you exhale. “Yes, I- miss it so bad”.

“You miss my cock stretching that tight pussy of yours?” At that, the wet movements become louder. “Stretch it nice and open for me baby, make sure to prep yourself every day for when you get back”.

You bite your nails. “What’s going to happen when I get back?”

The answer is rather obvious, but you want to hear it from him.

“I’m going to make you come until you pass out,” Hyunjin bites his lips and kicks his head back, reminiscing all those times where you’ve come around his cock, fingers and tongue. “Make it up to you for all the days you've been away”.

You can feel the pooling wetness in your underwear, the minimum squeeze of your thighs against each other is a constant reminder of it.

“You miss my lips against your pussy like I do?” he asks, letting out a liberating gasp. “You miss tasting yourself off of me while we kiss?”

“You know I do,” you gulp loudly, caressing your lips with the tip of your fingers. God, how much you miss feeling his against yours.

They’re so soft, and velvety, and they know exactly how to kiss and bite you.

“I’m so close,” Hyunjin announces, and you feel your nipples hardening underneath your underwear at the despair in his voice. “I just- wish you were here, want to come all over your face, and body, make you swallow me full”.

You want to say something, anything, but his words have much of a chokehold on you. You'll give anything to taste him, to kneel in front of him right now and open your mouth wide for him.

You miss his taste, miss kissing him afterwards in between whines and grunts.

“I would grab your hair really tightly,” he explains, increasing the speed of his sounds. “I’d push my cock deep inside that pretty mouth of yours, have you gagging and drooling all over it”.

Between his overwhelming words, and the loud sound of someone barging through the door of the restroom, you mutter a quick "can't talk anymore" before going completely silent.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Shit.

You close your eyes, trying to focus on both parts: Hyunjin’s moans, and the way your mother is standing right outside your bathroom stall.

“It has been like 10 minutes, your father and I got worried”.

Your boyfriend lets out a teasing scoff, one that only you can hear.

“She’s asking you a question,” Hyunjin murmurs, still with a hitched breath. “Aren’t you going to answer?”

“I’m fine,” you rush to say. “Just- having a stomachache”.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve got some medicine in my bag,” of course she did. She always does, ever since you were little.

“Maybe you should tell her the truth,” the voice from the other line calls. “Tell her that you’re busy making me come”.

Immediately, your eyes open like plates and you wonder if the sound of the phone is too loud for your mom to hear it inside the quiet restroom.

“I forgot!” you snap, practically yell out loud. “I forgot you carried those with you”.

“Want me to bring them to you?”

You hear the faucet running, and Hyunjin chuckling slowly. At least she isn’t standing right outside the stall, but you’re still not at ease.

“Y-yeah, please,” on the line, Hyunjin is waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt.

Those two words are enough to send him to the edge. Despite the lack of sexual connotations, hearing you beg for anything it’s enough to arouse him.

“Ah, but I’ll have to bring you some water too,” your mother explains. “Maybe you can have it when you return to the table?”

“No!” You insist, all in an attempt to kick her away from the restroom. “Please, I need it right now. Please?”

“Are you going to beg for me like that too?” Hyunjin groans through the line, not caring if anyone can hear him. Also not caring about interrupting your conversation. “Are you going to open your legs for me and beg for my dick like you’re begging right now?”

You almost choke on your own saliva, but the feeling quickly goes away when you hear your mother mutter an “okay, alright” before walking out the restroom door with a mission of easing your fake stomach ache.

“I almost get caught,” you gasp, only when a couple of seconds pass after she leaves.

“Then hang up,” his shakily breath only tells you he is not that far from coming. Especially after hearing your voice again, pleading for whatever it was you were asking.

“No,” you shake your head. “Want to hear you, please”.

“Want to hear how I come for you?” he chuckles. “Want to her how I moan your name while I come thinking about how much I wish I was fucking you?”.

In a whisper, you hum quietly.

“So dirty,” he is getting closer. “So, so f-fucking dirty. I can tell you’re enjoying this, even while you're out in public. Maybe you'll like it if i were to fuck you right there, while your parents wait for us at the table?”.

You cover your mouth in surprise, trying to muffle a gasp.

“I would love to come inside you right now, pull up your panties and force you to spend the rest of the day with my cum leaking out of you,” he lets out another loud, choked groan before continuing to elaborate on the fantasy. “You'd be so wet, you wouldn't know if you're turned on or it's just my cum”.

“You’re insane,” you whisper under your breath.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin asks teasingly, slurring his words in between moans. “I know you are too, baby. I don’t even need to take a look at you to know you’re probably dripping just by my words, right?”

Damned him.

“And I know I’m not too out of my mind when I say you would let me fuck you right then and there, where everyone could hear you and anyone could walk in,” at that, the lewd noises increase. “Might even let me finger you underneath the table, right? Bet you would love to have my fingers deep inside you while you try to pretend you don’t”.

Oh you're definitely going to cancel all your plans for the day. Might even book an early fly.

Anything, just to see him soon.

“God,” Hyunjin exhales, and it’s between quiet moans that you realize he is coming. “F-fuck, ‘m coming so fucking much”.

You can picture it. His tone abdomen all glistening with sweat and cum, shining brightly underneath the dim light of your room. His cock is probably red, and swollen, and twitching while he overcomes his high.

Fuck, damned be Hyunjin for making you ruin your panties this early in the morning.

“So much,” he repeats, fingers trailing the lines of his abdomen as he collects his arousal off of it. “Too sad it went to waste, I would’ve preferred to fuck it back inside of you”.

“I hate you,” you finally breathe, both in relief and frustration. “I hate how much I miss you”.

“Then come home soon,” your boyfriend pouts.

And honestly? You might.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut

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hsyvers · 11 months

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IM IN LOVE WITH SPIDER-JEN you dont even understand 🥰😝😻 but im craving some angst... can you write yn getting attacked by one of yunjins enemies and she doesnt get there in time? my heart hurts just by requesting this 🤧

for you, i'd bleed myself dry - spiderwoman!h.yj x reader

WARNING(S); vague descriptions of death

NOTES; 1k. i hate writing angst so so much but when someone requests i'll try my best to deliver so 😭 yk atsv and like the thing abt canon events....and the last gwenter scene in tasm 2....yeah....im kinda denying that it's a pt.2 to my spiderwoman yunjin fic bc im delulu <3

"hey!" yunjin yells, her heart hammering in her chest, "y/n! i need to hear you!"

"i'm okay!" you respond shakily, standing on a tiny ledge that oversaw the whole hollow clocktower, except for a bunch of gears moving. the fall would still be able to kill, "focus on your fight!"

yunjin lets out a relieved sigh, wincing at the action. her ribs hurt the more she breathes, her vision getting blurry the more she evades her enemy's attacks.

how much has technology advanced anyway? with all the guys yunjin has had to deal with, especially the last few months, it felt like every terrible person was trying to be on par with spiderwoman.

that's how you all ended up on top of this fucking clocktower anyway. if it weren't for her insisting to give you a quick kiss, he might have thought you were just a normal civilian.

'fucking idiot,' she thinks to herself, forcing her limbs to move. once she feels her foot connect with his face, she dives down to get you.

"hold on tight," she orders, with you nodding quickly. she webs something sturdy above the both of you, but just as she pulls up, the criminal cuts it off.

all yunjin can hear is your gasp and his sickening laugh.

she grabs you with a web and sends another one to hold her up.

he seems bored of repeating the same action, jumping down to challenge yunjin to take him on again.

you see the white eyes of her mask focusing on you, and at this moment, it hurts to think of how much she loves you.

when he tries to grasp her arm, you shout a warning, and yunjin manages to kick him off again, her arm swinging to throw a punch before she holds herself up again.

then the gears meet, and your web snaps.

it happens so quickly, that, you wonder if you even screamed.

yunjin doesn't either. she just jumps.

lower, and lower, and lower.

a string chases your chest.

you hear a crack, and you feel yunjin's arms envelop you.

and you're grateful that that's the last thing you feel.

"please, please, please, oh fuck," yunjin pulls off her mask, tears streaming down her cheeks when she falls to the floor, cradling you, "please, babe, no. don't do this."

she leans her ear to your chest, and she has the urge to die herself when she hears nothing.

"honey, no, please," she begs softly, her chest wrecking with sobs when she presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

"get up, okay? tell me you're alright. scold me for being late to practice. yell at me for dropping you!"

it aches. it aches how alive you looked and how dead you felt.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry," she chants, holding you closer as she cries, "it's all my fault. i should've-...i..."

"you look so tired," you whisper, one late night.

yunjin had come home around 3 am, and she's sitting tiredly on your bed, nuzzling her face onto your chest as you stood and held her.

"everything...hurts."

you pull her mask off, expression souring when you see a cut on her lip and eyebrow.

"one day, i'll kill the people who hurt you like this," you declare quietly, after patching her up, like you always have, and you always will.

"no need," she whispers, burying her face in your hair when you lay on the bed, "i'll handle them and you handle me, okay?"

you giggle, and nod in approval, taking her hand to press gentle kisses on her battered knuckles, "i'll take care of you."

and yunjin is surprised at how much she yearns. even when you're around. and painfully more so when you're not.

"it's rotten work."

"not to me. not if it's you."

she remembers falling asleep to your voice.

she never regretted touching you, kissing you, telling you how she loved you, every single day. she never forgot your lips on her own, her cheeks, and her scars.

maybe that's why it was so utterly devastating.

because she never felt that strongly about anyone, or anything. she was the city's protector while you were hers.

she crumbles completely, and she sits there for hours.

the police can arrive, blame everything on her, arrest her, she didn't care.

the only reason why she tears herself away from your body, was so you could be buried properly. she feels as though she can't speak, her eyes red and dull when she left you.

she doesn't come out of her room for days. everyone seems to notice spiderwoman's absence. her friends try to get to her, but she refuses to respond.

she finally shows her face at your funeral, and when they ask why she did, she merely says it's all for you.

and also, she thinks, because you saved her. again, even after death. you did have a way with words, after all.

to my soulmate,

i know you warned me before we started dating, about how i might be in as much danger as you are.

if you found this, it's because you were right, and for whatever reason, i can't be with you right now.

i just want to say that i don't regret kissing you that one night after you saved me, and i certainly wouldn't take back all the love i have given you and my experiences of you giving all you have left in you to me.

in fact, i'd do it all over again, and even now, i love you, i love you, i love you.

you got this! you can pull through it. you're the strongest person i know. and don't forget to lean on our friends if you need them. i know you'll be in good hands.

i took care of you for as long as i could, and you protected me to the best of your ability. i know, because i trust you.

so please, continue to smile and laugh for me, i'll be watching from wherever i am, so don't you dare forget it!

yours forever,

the love of your life (your words, not mine, babe)

#le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #kpop x reader

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lovingperfectionsblog · 2 years

Text

A Type of Undressing

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max finally finds out why the reader hates him so much and what he chooses to do about it.

Requested: oi, your writing is amazing. do you think you could write something abt max x driver/reader where shes like "i dont come on here to make friends, i come here to drive" and shes like resting bitch face definition till she gets drunk w max one time and confesses she has feelings for him but is afraid of what people might think of her crushing over some other driver

Warnings: Very very angsty, swearing, drinking, sexism.

Word Count: 2258

Authors note: This was so lovely to write and I am so sorry it got a bit angsty, But I just felt like there are certain realities to being human and especially a woman in this world and it’s important to highlight those injustices and what those truly mean for us.

_____

“It okay if I join you out here?” Max perched on the seat opposite you on the balcony, away from the rest of the drivers and team principles.

“The great Max Verstappen can do what he wants” you didn’t bother dragging your eyes away from your drink and your voice was icy, so much so that it even surprised you at how cruel you had sounded, but in truth, it was for your safety. No one could see you getting along with your teammate, lest the rumours of your legitimacy in the sport start up again and how you only got there because you were shagging another driver, or was it team principle? Oh no, maybe it was the entire grid? You’d lost count of the latest accusations.

And so Max sat and silence fell between the two of you. The loud music and even louder talking from the others being enough distraction for the both of you, not enough to eliminate the awkwardness that settled between you both but enough for you to get lost in your own thoughts.

Although, Max’s thoughts remained solely on the awkwardness between you two, for two reasons. The first being him desperately wanting to find out why you hated him as much as you did, because lord knows there was something he had done to make you despise him the way you did and the second, being that despite your absolutely hatred of him, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you.

He understands the irony of that, being in love with the woman who hated him. Quite frankly, he knew he was a walking cliché, both falling for the woman who hated him and for falling for his teammate, but it was you, the feisty, vibrant, determined, thoughtful you and he hadn’t expected it but here he was, avoiding any advances from other woman because he was unable to get over you, despite how hard he tried.

And God knows he was trying. The long-winded argument he had with himself as he debated coming out onto the balcony to join you was proof of that, knowing that he shouldn’t. That he had to just leave you alone, both to get over you and to not make you hate him anymore that you already did, but he had ashamedly lost the argument with himself. Justifying it with the fact that you had already hated him so there wasn’t much more he could do to make you hate him more and well, would it be too embarrassing to admit that he kind of just wanted to be alone with you? He just wanted to sit with you and be around you, even if you didn’t utter a single word to him, even if you refused to smile at him, Christ, even if you refused to even look in his direction he was okay with it, he just wanted to be alone with you and those brief moments were few and far between so if he had to sneak away in the middle of a party to do so, strongly against his own advice, then he would so it.

It was embarrassing. He was embarrassing.

In truth, the day he even realized how he felt by you, he wasn’t pleased at the realization by any means. Quite frankly he was irritated by it. Irritated enough to want to chuck Daniel out of his flat for even bringing it to his attention, but the second his friend had mentioned it, it was as if he had slammed into a barrier, him unable to prevent the truth from hitting into him at full speed.

He distinctly remembers trying to convince Daniel he didn’t have feelings for you, the argument going back and forth between the two of them and then suddenly Daniel had said the words that made his entire brain malfunction:

“Listen, I’m not saying you’re in love with her, I’m just saying that whenever she even walks into the room it’s like you become the Max you’ve always shied away from”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What Max is that?”

“I don’t know, the one who feels like he can be himself I guess”

And Daniel was right, somehow, even with the cold exterior you showed him, he still felt like he could be himself, not the world champion, not the formula one driver, not the formula one prodigy, just Max. You somehow didn’t reduce him to be anything other than who he was.

Max had initially put it down to a quite he once read:

“Finally, in a low whisper, he said, ‘I think I might be a terrible person.’ For a split second I believed him - I thought he was about to confess a crime, maybe a murder. Then I realized that we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before asking someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.”

You already saw the worst in him, you already thought he was terrible, he would never have to reveal any of that because it was already out in the open between you two, so maybe asking you to love him wouldn’t be nearly as hard, because maybe, just maybe that could be out there too.

“So what do you think of –“ Max tried to make conversation, that was before you’d cut him off in a sharp tone, still not even looking at him in the slightest.

“We don’t have to do this, I think we should just keep our conversations around racing at the track yeah?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

You were too drunk to look him in the eyes and you knew the second you did you’d be done for. The perfectly constructed self you had created would crumble in seconds. You didn’t want to know more about his life or his favourite colours or anything about him quite frankly.

You didn’t want to fall even more for him than you already had.

God what was wrong with you. This was your teammate. You had worked your ass off to be one of the very few women who had participated in F1, let alone gotten a continuous seat in it and the second you do, you go and fall for your goddamn teammate. You were a walking cliché.

Neither of you knew what to say after that and suddenly the silence that you had so desperately wanted had begun to suffocate you.

“I should go” you were slightly embarrassed at the sway in your step as you realized just how much you’d had to drink after getting up, so focused on getting out of there that you’d completely ignored just how difficult it may be to do just that.

“I could walk you to your room” Max had stood along with you, it dawning on him just how drunk you actually may be, thinking only of helping you as he reached an arm out to stabilize you, but while he thought nothing of his grip on your waist, you had been left in complete shock, your panicked eyes reaching his own, immediately prompting him to let go of you completely out of fear that he had upset you even more.

“Sorry what?” you knew he had asked you something, but his touch had completely caused your mind to blank, focused only on the heat that had wrapped itself around you, and the distinct loss of it which you oddly wished you were still experiencing.

“Oh, I asked if I could walk you to your room” Max had reached out a tentative hand towards you, allowing you to hold his forearm for balance instead this time.

Do not do or say anything stupid, tell him no, you can get there by yourself, get out of there now! Remember what you worked so hard for, this is your job, and you are going to win, you’re not here to be his friend let alone his girlfriend, walk away now before those eyes get you again.

“No, no, I’m good” and with that you were pulling away from him, making your way to the glass doors, mentally patting yourself on the back that your inner monologue had won and as Max watched you retreat he knew it was now or never, weirdly thankful that you were both drunk, hoping it would aid in the conversation.

“Why do you hate me?” Max’s question had knocked the wind out of you, freezing you in your tracks.

You’d turned to look at him and your heart shattered at the sight in front of you. Max had never looked so dejected before and you were the reason for it. This isn’t what you wanted. This was never what you wanted.

You want to be with him.

“I don’t hate you Max, I never have” your eyes shifted down to where you were picking at your nail bed, “that’s the problem”.

“I’m not sure how it’s a problem to not hate your teammate” Max could feel his body begin to start a monologue, and he tried to stop the word vomit that was about to tumble out of his mouth, but like many battles he’d lost against himself we’re it came to you, he was about to lose this one too.

“like, look, I get that I’m horrible and awful and terrible and whatever else you may think I am, but truthfully, I think you’re amazing and not only as a driver and God, it’s such a fucking cliche and I am pretty sure I’d be lambasted in the media for even admitting to this but I just, I have these, feelings, and I don’t know what to do with them and” Max had been pacing, avoiding your eyes, but when he eventually did, it was like he was hitting into the barrier all over again, “Oh my god”.

“Please don’t” you knew there was a tremble in your voice.

“Why not?” Max was willing to listen to whatever you decide, but he just needed to hear you say it, that the way you looked at him now, that it meant what he thought it, that it was how he felt.

God, please feel the same.

You refused to answer but you also refused to leave. You wanted him to figure it out, you didn’t want to say it but you wanted him to know. You needed him to know. You needed him to figure it out.

“Is it because of the team? Christian? Is there someone else? Just what, because, the way you’re looking at me right now Y/n” He needed to hear you say it.

“I worked so hard for my seat Max” why wasn’t he getting it, why did you have to lay it all out for him, can’t he just connect the dots for you, “I didn’t sleep with anyone for my seat, and if things happen here” you indicated between the two of you.

Suddenly it all fell into place for Max. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t the team. Max was about to lose out on the woman he loved, because of a double standard.

He had read all the articles, he remembers the anger he felt at every accusation, could they not see how well you drove? Fuck, you even gave him a run for his money, you’d earned your seat just like every single driver on that grid, but there would always be a double standard.

You were a woman in F1 and that was your sin and so you had to be punished for it every single day.

“No one has to know” Max was grasping at straws and his heart was shattering as he watched you shake your head.

“Everyone would know” both of you knew that and he would not be the one to bear the consequences of it, you would.

Even when the male drivers bore the term of ‘F1 Slag’ it was a point of humour and pride. Everyone knew it would be different with you. God it already was, and you hadn’t even done anything to be awarded the title.

“This is unfair” the laugh you had let out at Max’s childish statement had zero joy in it, it was almost as if it was a mocking laugh, directed at him.

“Unfair? Max, please, enlighten me, how is this unfair to you?” he suddenly felt gross, because he knew that if it was unfair to him, the entire weight of it would be on you, it was beyond unfair for you, it was your every day lived experience.

“I’m sorry” Max tried to reach out to you, and you nearly let him, nearly gave in to what would be your undoing.

“It is what it is I guess” you wished it wasn’t as simple and as complicated as that, “I’m sorry for being such a terrible person” and with that you were gone, through the glass doors before Max could even think about stopping you.

He wished he was upset, he wished he had felt rejected, but he couldn’t, not when the truth was as simple and as complicated as the fact that he was a terrible person to you and you had chosen to love him anyway.

And you had just confessed you were a terrible person to him, and no matter how many times you though that was the truth he knew what his response would be every single time.

He would choose to love you anyway.

#Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen x you #x reader #Max Verstappen #f1 Imagine #F1 x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #monaco

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echo-goes-mmm · 6 months

Text

Silas and Wren #7

Masterpost

Warnings: parental abuse

Note: Silas's brother uses they/them pronouns and masculine family terms

Silas had taken to teaching Wren to read. Every evening they went over the letters and their sounds, and now Wren knew the alphabet. He wasn’t sure why the letters had a certain order, but Silas was pretty insistent he knew the little song.

It was sweet. He curled up next to Silas as he read the children's’ books out loud. He pointed to each word as they went.

“Sorry about the books,” he had said, “there’s not many ways to teach adults to read.”

“It’s okay, Master. I don’t mind.”

They were settled in for another reading lesson when there was a knock at the door.

“Um, maybe you should step into the other room, Wren.”

“Yes, Master.”

He ducked into the adjacent drawing room and waited for Master to deal with his visitor.

___________________

Silas took a deep breath and shoved the book under the couch. It could be anyone, really. A deliveryman, his older brother, a distant cousin. But he knew who it was.

He took another deep breath and opened the door.

“Good evening, Silas.”

“Hello, Father. Would you like to come in?” Father brushed past him, taking off his coat and draping it over his arm.

“Silas, it’s considered rude to keep a guest waiting at the door.”

“Sorry.” He followed Father into the living room.

“No matter,” he said, uncharacteristically casual, “I’ll be quick. Felix is getting married.”

“What?” Silas sat on the couch, stunned. “When?” He didn’t even know they were courting.

“Next week,” said Father, who remained standing. “Your mother thought you should know.”

“So I’m not invited.” Father pursed his lips, red eyes disapproving.

“We thought that would be best.” Silas stared at the floor. When Father said ‘we’ he really meant ‘I’. Felix would have invited him, even Mother would have said nothing against it, but Father had never liked him. Anger sparked in his chest.

“You’ll be expected to send a gift of course,” said Father, brushing imaginary dust off his suit. “It would be unbecoming otherwise.”

“Of course. We wouldn’t want the family embarrassed, would we?” he said, bitterly.

“Mind your tone,” snapped Father. “A son should not talk to his father so rudely.”

Silas glared up at him. “So you agree, I am your son.”

Father bristled. “Silas,” he warned.

“No, I’m not going to shut up!” he leapt up from the couch. “You’ve always hated me! And now I can’t even see Felix get married because you’re a selfish–”

Father slapped him, hard. His cheek burned. Silas heard a gasp from the hall, and by the way Father’s ear twitched, he heard it too.

Oh god.

Father paused, and turned towards the door.

“No,” said Silas, “don’t! Dad, please-” Father turned back to him, still furious. Distracted by his anger, Father raised his hand again, and Silas flinched back.

A blur moved in the corner of his eye, but before he could call out, Wren darted in front of him.

“Please don’t, sir!” he begged. Father startled. “He didn’t do anything!”

Father bared his teeth. He shoved Wren away, and he tumbled onto the floor with a squeak. Father advanced on Wren, and Silas froze with fear as Wren whimpered.

“What is this? A slave? Did you really buy a human?” he laughed, looking over to him.

“I always knew you were pathetic and weak, from the moment you were born.”

Silas wrapped his arms around himself to keep from trembling.

“His name is Wren,” he said, quiet. “And I think you should leave.”

Father straightened. “Very well.” He put his coat back on. He looked back at Silas.

“Make sure it’s a good gift.”

Silas stared at the floor as Father moved past him. Father slammed the door as he left, because of course he did.

Silas collapsed into the nearest armchair. He held himself tight, but that didn’t stop the tears from gathering. He really was pathetic.

“Master?” said Wren, placing a box of tissues on the table next to him. God, he hadn’t even checked on him before throwing a fit.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Wren. He sat on the corner of the couch. “What about you, Master?”

“I-”

Was he okay?

___________________

Master burst into tears, sobbing into his hands. Wren offered him a tissue.

“I just- I don’t know why he doesn’t love me,” he wept. Wren waited patiently. Master needed to let it all out. “I- I did the- the paternity test and everything!”

“He thought you weren’t his?”

Silas nodded.

“I don’t look anything like him,” he explained wetly. “And Father and Felix… they have pheromones and I-” he took a deep breath. “I don’t.”

Wren didn’t really know what pheromones were, aside from some sort of human mind control, but the first part was a little true.

Silas’s Father had brown hair, red eyes, and huge fangs. Silas had dark hair, gray eyes, and his teeth were smaller.

“It’s just… He loves Felix but not me. It’s not fair.”

Wren agreed with him. Parents should love their kids, right? It shouldn’t matter what Silas looked like. Personally, he didn’t think they looked too different anyhow. In the brief glance Wren saw of Silas’s dad, they stood the same way, and their faces were pretty close.

Silas sniffed, wiping his face.

“Father kicked me out when I came of age,” he explained, “He gave me my inheritance and a quarter of the company and told me to leave. Said I was an embarrassment, but at least I wouldn’t have to get a job and cause a scandal. And Mother didn’t say a damn thing.”

No wonder Master was lonely. His whole family had abandoned him.

“I thought Felix would at least send me a letter. They always took my side when we fought.”

“Maybe they’re just busy with the wedding,” he suggested, “Why not send them a letter instead?”

Silas looked at him. “That’s… a really good idea. Thanks.” He smiled at Wren. Something in his chest fluttered, and heat rose to his face.

“Um, you’re welcome, Master.”

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone @paintedpigeon1 @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @fanastyfinder @extemporary-whump @susiequaz12 @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @the-cyrulik

#this one goes out to every mf with daddy issues #also Silas's dad is abusive but not transphobic. love that for him /j #im the writer and i say no transphobia in my work lol #Silas and Wren #my writing #whump #slavery whump #vampire whump

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emotionalcadaver · 8 months

Text

Part 19: In the Bleak Midwinter

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: Tragedy, the kind in which neither of them will ever fully recover, finally strikes.

Word Count: 6,418

Notes: I am so, so sorry in advance for this one, guys. Warnings for depictions of canonical major character death, blood, polyamory, and violence.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

Previous Part • Next Part

Chapter 4: I'll Break Your Heart

“What the fuck is that?” Lucy asked. Tommy looked up from where he’d been fumbling with his cigarettes, following her gaze to the two trucks parked outside the betting shop. His brows pinched. “Are those coppers?”

Cocking his head, Tommy narrowed his eyes. “That’s not normal.”

“No. It isn’t. You think it has to do with the Russian business?”

“Maybe,” his eyes darted to the betting shop down the road. “Right. Listen to me. I want you to go home.”

“What? Are you serious?” she bristled. Tommy sighed.

“Lucy, if things go bad…I don’t want to have to worry about bailing you out of jail too.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not leaving you to face down a bunch of coppers on your own.”

“I won’t be on my own. I’ll have Arthur and John with me. They should still be at the stop,” he huffed at her unconvinced expression. “Lucy, love, please.”

Her jaw clenched at the idea of being left out of the action. “I’m not going home. But,” she quickly added, when he opened his mouth to argue, “I’ll stay out here, watch what happens. If they take you to the station, I’ll wait outside for you.”

Tommy closed his mouth, looking her up and down, then nodded. “Don’t try to interfere.”

“Okay.”

He squeezed her hand, and turned away, heading towards the betting shop. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she chanced one last glance at the trucks parked on the edge of the street before turning away, slipping down an alley and zigzagging her way around until she was at a spot where she could watch the front of the betting shop without being seen. It didn’t take long for the coppers to file out of their truck, breaking down the door to the shop and bursting in, shouting. Lucy thought that she might have heard what sounded like Esme screaming, and it took nearly all of her self control not to rush across the road to help.

A moment later, they marched Tommy out. His eyes scanned over the street until he spotted her peeking out from the alley. Their eyes met, and he shook his head once, barely undetectable, to the silent question in her eyes. And much as it killed her, she did nothing as they shoved him into a truck and began to drive away.

Melting back away into the darkness of the alley, she began to walk briskly to where they’d left the car, starting up the engine and fumbling at the wheel. Her movements with the car were clumsy and uncoordinated as she drove it down the road towards the police station. Stupid thing. She had never been good with driving cars. The tires squealed as she brought it to a stop close to the outside of the station and shut it off, wincing at the sound and thankful that no coppers seemed to have noticed. There was a reason why Tommy never let her drive.

Opening the door, Lucy hopped from her seat, leaning up against the side of the car after closing the door behind her, pulling her watch from her pocket to check the time. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip nervously, weighing her options as she tucked the watch away. Trying to storm into the station probably wouldn’t be the smartest of moves, but the idea of any number of terrible things they could be doing to Tommy inside while she just stood out there helplessly made her stomach clench. Trying to stifle her jitters, she pulled a cigarette from the worn case she kept them stored away in, lighting it and letting her thumb swipe along the white stick anxiously. The heel of her right foot began to tap rhythmically against the cobblestones. She had always hated the feeling of not knowing what to do.

Come on, Tom. Come on. Please be okay.

She had just finished her first cigarette, mind weighting between the options of having a second one or just saying fuck it and just storming into the station anyway, consequences be damned, when the door flew open and Tommy rushed out.

But the sight of him did little to reassure her like it usually did. His face was ashen, eyes wide and panic-stricken in a way that made her blood run cold. He spotted her, standing by the car, and ran across the street to her, rushing around to get into the driver’s seat of the car.

“What happened?” she asked, cigarette dropping from her fingers to be forgotten on the cobblestones as she climbed into the car, barely getting her door closed before they were taking off down the road. “Tommy?”

Still he didn’t say a word, eyes focused straight ahead, mind clearly very faraway. In some dark, terrible place, if the drawn look on his face was any indication.

“Tom, what did they want?” she tried again, keeping her voice gentle so as to not spook him anymore than he already was. Tommy rubbed a hand down his face before returning it to rest with the other upon the steering wheel. The car was traveling almost concerningly fast; barreling down the streets with enough speed to cause the entire to make a noise of complaint.

“Hughes wanted to talk to me,” he said it just as she was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t heard her, his voice tight with fear. It made her a chill creep down her spine. Tommy was rarely scared; at least not like this.

“What did he say?”

He swallowed roughly, in a way that looked painful. Eyes still focused straight ahead at the road.

“He said I’m not to see Ada again. Or they’ll kill her.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. The death threat was certainly not good, but it didn’t seem to be the type of thing to elicit such a fearful, frantic response from Tommy. It took more than death threats to rattle him.

“And then he told me to check under Charlie’s pillow.”

It felt like some sort of icy, terrible thing had reached into her chest and locked its cold fingers tight around her heart, constricting until it tightened painfully in her chest, practically leaping into the back of her throat with fear.

No, please. Not their boy. Not their sweet little boy.

“What did–what did he mean by that, Tommy?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was that supposed to be taken as a death threat, or–”

“I don’t fucking know, Lucy!” he snapped, and then immediately seemed to recoil in on himself, wiping at his lips with his hand. “Sorry,” he apologized, voice much softer. Lucy scooted a little closer to him, pressing her shoulder to his in what she hoped would provide some sort of comfort. Though whether it was for him or for herself, she couldn’t be sure.

“It’s alright.”

“If anything happens to him, Luce…”

“It won’t,” she hoped that she sounded more confident than she felt. “Arrow House is safe.”

“I want you to make double checks on all of the staff. Their backgrounds, their current associations. Just to be sure.”

“Okay.”

Neither of them said much else as the car bounced along the road in the direction of the mansion. Lucy’s heart beat like a great drum inside her chest, the pounding hard and loud in her ears as she fought back the growing panic in her throat. By the time Tommy brought the car to a screeching halt outside Arrow House’s doors, she felt as though her lungs weren’t taking in enough air, throat too tight with worry to properly drag in oxygen.

They both jumped from the car, not bothering to remove their coats as they raced through the house and up the stairs towards Charlie’s darkened room. Lucy made a tiny sound of relief at the sight of the little boy sleeping peacefully in his crib, not even stirred as Tommy started to riffle around under his pillow. His hand pulled away with a little slip of paper clutched in his fingers. Lucy peeked over his shoulder, fingers twisting together. It was a business card for a crematorium. And scrawled on the back, in looping black ink, it read: Charles Shelby R.I.P.

Tommy started to pace, back and forth across the floor with the card still clutched in his hands. Charlie began to quietly make noises in his sleep, stirring as if sensing their distress. Lucy shushed him gently, reaching out to lightly stroke a hand over his soft head of hair. Tommy joined her a moment later, bending down to check on the still sleeping boy before tearing himself away again, going to the wardrobe and pressing both hands against it, head bowed.

“Is everything all right?”

They both started at the sound of Grace’s voice from the doorway. She looked between them curiously, joining Lucy at Charlie’s crib, glancing down at the baby.

“Yes,” Tommy said, which might have been more convincing had he not sounded so out of breath. “Everything’s fine,” he went to her. “Everything’s fine,” he repeated, touching Grace’s shoulder. Grace looked at him, expression perplexed. “Yeah,” he sounded like he was trying so hard to convince himself. Grace glanced at Lucy from across the crib, and must have seen something in her eyes that begged her not to ask. At least not right now.

“You promised, Tommy,” Grace said, voice low and gentle, but also firm as she turned back to him. There was a pause. A space in time where there was nothing but silence and Tommy’s heavy breathing. Lucy’s fingers were still trembling a little as she continued to stroke them through Charlie’s feather-soft hair. More to soothe herself than the baby who had already settled back in peaceful, deep sleep. “I trust you,” Grace finally said, the weight of the words heavy in the dark room. Tommy made a small noise, barely anything more than an exhale of breath, and pulled Grace into his arms, hooking his chin against her shoulder as he hugged her tightly. From over her shoulder, his eyes met Lucy’s, and something passed between them. Something that she could not entirely describe. An understanding. A fear that was better left unspoken.

“I trust you, Tommy,” Grace repeated softly as he pulled away.

“Yes,” he took a step backwards, until his back hit the wardrobe behind him with a thump. “He’s fine,” he gestured to Charlie. “He’s fine.”

Charlie stirred under Lucy’s hand, and roused, letting out a few tiny cries. Lucy hushed him, leaning more fully over him and running her hand along his small back.

“Hush, sweet boy,” she whispered, and he settled once more. Nodding to herself, taking some comfort in the knowledge that he was okay, she straightened from where she’d been crouched over the crib. Tommy’s footsteps thumped away as he headed for the door and she went to follow him, his hand smoothing over her arm for a moment as they took a step into the hall. But Grace was still lingering at the crib, staring down at the baby, and they paused at the realization that she hadn’t followed them.

“Grace,” Tommy called to her, taking a step back into the room. “Grace,” he reached out a hand to her. “We gotta go,” he whispered, ushering her towards the doorway of another room. Lucy followed Grace, glancing over her shoulder to see that Tommy had paused, just standing there looking at Charlie’s crib.

“Tommy,” she murmured, and he seemed to startle back to life, head turning to look at her. Lucy gave a little jerk of her head. “Come on, love.”

Wetting his lips, he blinked hard, then nodded, approaching her until she could grab his hand. He clutched at her fingers tightly, squeezing.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy adjusted the neckline of her dress, fingers smoothing along the deep red fabric. It was simple, but elegant, sleeveless and leaving most of her back exposed. A little loose flowing in the top, but cinched in severely at the waist by a black cord that tied at the small of her back. The material was soft against her skin. Swinging her hips back and forth to watch the way that the near floor length skirt swooshed with her movement, Lucy smiled softly to herself, snatching up the gold, dangling earrings she’d set out, embedded with glimmering red garnets. She slipped them expertly through the holes in each ear and fastened them, fluffing her red curls one last time before she opened up the jewelry box sitting on her vanity, fingers running lightly over the huge red stone that gleamed up at her from its space settled in the divot made for it within the box.

She bit her lip, then immediately let it go and glanced up into the mirror to make sure that she hadn’t ruined her lipstick. The jewel was so beautiful, she was half afraid to touch it. Scooping it up by its golden chain, she held the necklace up to the light, watching as the red hue of the garnet seemed to deepen. It was heavy and cold against her chest as she locked the chain around her neck, allowing the massive gemstone to rest just below her collarbone.

Sitting down in the little chair in front of her vanity, she scowled slightly as she slipped her feet into the heels she would be torturing herself with for the rest of the night. Ugh. It wasn’t fair. All the men got to wear flat dress shoes that didn’t inflict pain on them.

Standing, she checked herself over one last time in the full-length mirror, smoothing a hand down her dress, nodding to herself. All she had left to do was tug on the black gloves that went up past her elbows and snatch up her little clutch. Before leaving the room she grabbed the black fur she’d flung over the back of the chair, draping it carefully over her shoulders to keep her warm. Stepping into the master bedroom, she found Grace just finishing getting ready herself, adjusting the way that the huge blue sapphire laid on her chest while Mary touched up her hair. She was more comfortable letting the staff help her get ready. Lucy still hadn’t gotten used to it; preferring to just do it all herself.

“Hey,” she smiled over at her. “Are you almost ready?”

“Just about,” Grace smiled over her shoulder at her. “Thank you, Mary,” she dismissed the housekeeper, who nodded at them politely and headed for the door. Lucy took her spot behind Grace, wrapping her arms around her and kissing the back of her neck.

“You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” Grace giggled, turning around to face her, stroking a gloved hand over her hair. “So do you.”

Lucy looked at the floor bashfully. “You don’t think it’s too obvious with us wearing near matching necklaces?” she asked, glancing down at the garnet resting coolly on her chest.

“Who cares if it’s too obvious. You aren’t taking it off; it looks marvelous on you,” Grace stroked her fingertips over the deep red jewel.

“People might talk,” Lucy warned. It wasn’t like they had been all that incredibly subtle as of late anyway. Grace just rolled her eyes fondly.

“Let them talk, love. What they have to say is of no consequence anyway,” she kissed her, lips firm and leaving no room for argument in her statement, and when she pulled back it was to smile that beautiful smile that left a dimple in her cheek. “Come on. Tommy’s probably waiting for us.”

She looped her arm with Lucy’s, beginning to tug her towards the hall, eyes sparkling joyfully. With a breathless laugh Lucy let Grace pull her along, the pair of them giggling quietly to each other as they descended the staircase, making their way to the front door. Grace went to sit in the backseat of the car, pouting when Lucy pulled away from her to go sit up in the front.

“There’s plenty of room for the three of us to sit in the back.”

“Only if I sit on your lap, love.”

“I wouldn’t be complaining.”

Lucy laughed, shaking her head. “I think that the prospective donors would have something to say about that when we roll up to the venue.”

Grace continued to pout a little, but let her go with a peck to the cheek. Getting settled in the passenger seat with her clutch settled in her lap, Lucy twisted around to look at Grace in the backseat just as Tommy strode out the front doors, walking around the car and opening the door to slide into the space next to Grace, greeting her with a kiss and wrapping his arm around her. His eyes darted to meet Lucy’s as the car began to drive away, brows furrowing into a rather put-out expression.

“What’re you doing all the way up there?” he asked, pouting in a rather similar way to how Grace had moments earlier. Lucy huffed and rolled her eyes fondly.

“Am I the only one of us who has remembered the importance of subtly?” she laughed. Tommy narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and taking her chin in his hand so he could kiss her.

“I don’t give a fuck about subtly when you’re over there looking like that, love.”

Lucy snorted, but let her fingers twist in the soft material of the white scarf he had thrown over his shoulders, pulling him closer for another kiss. He grinned at her in a way that made him look almost boyish as she let him go, leaning back against Grace, who was beaming brightly as she watched them.

Grace had gone all-out with the venue. The ballroom was on the ground floor of an expensive hotel. With gorgeous crystal chandeliers, waiters carrying trays of drinks, and elaborate floral arrangements, it was the type of high-brow event they had only ever been able to dream of hosting before. Lucy smiled pleasantly as they passed a few men dressed in expensive tuxedos hovering near the entryway, their hats bobbing as they nodded politely. She tried to hide her pout when Tommy handed over his scarf at the coat check. She had quite liked how it looked on him.

“You really do look nice,” Tommy whispered into her ear, hand ghosting along her waist, eyes clearly appreciating the view of her bare back. Lucy felt herself flush. She hadn’t been wholly sure about the dress when she picked it out. Her back was heavily marred with scars. Most of them old and faded, but still prominent enough to not go unnoticed against her fair skin, and she’d been nervous about putting them on display. But Grace had been overwhelmingly encouraging when Lucy had tried it on for her when they’d gone dress shopping together, and it was so difficult to bring herself to say no to her.

It was comforting to know that Tommy also clearly approved of how she looked in it.

“Thanks.”

She followed him and Grace out to the main ballroom, Grace soon peeling off from them to go chat up some potential new donors. Lucy remained closer to Tommy, not entirely comfortable enough to be left on her own in a sea of unfamiliar faces. Both of her lovers were notably better than her at this; flashing charming smiles and engaging in empty small talk all in the name of securing a donation. Stretching up on her toes to examine the faces in the crowd, she spotted several other Shelby family members milling around, mostly chatting with each other rather than venturing out into the gathering of strangers surrounding them.

“Tommy,” Grace popped back up beside them, tapping him lightly on the arm. A heavy-set man was behind her, smiling through a thick mustache at them. “He’s the leader of the Birmingham City Council,” she introduced.

“Hello, Tommy,” Danny smiled.

“Hi, Danny,” Tommy shook his hand.

“Miss. Winters,” Danny turned to her.

“Nice to see you again,” Lucy shook his hand warmly, relieved to finally be conversing with a familiar face. The two men began to chat about business while Grace’s smile remained in place, but the expression in her eyes was taken aback.

“You know each other?” she asked. Danny stammered out an explanation, before quickly pivoting to a congratulations regarding the wedding. Grace’s smile, which had begun to fade, bloomed back into full force as she nodded her thanks. Next to her, Lucy noticed that Tommy had gone very tense, eyes focused straight ahead. Following his gaze, she felt her blood go cold at the sight of Hughes and another man who she recognized as Patrick Jarvis, MP, striding through the entryway. Lucy felt her heart rate skyrocket, palms growing clammy. What the fuck were they doing here?

She could distantly hear Danny take note of the priest and MP’s arrival, excitedly explaining to Grace who they were. Hughes’s eyes landed on them, zeroing in on Tommy from across the ballroom. Lucy felt her stomach turn, throat dry as she swallowed.

“Did you invite them, Grace?” Tommy asked, not taking his eyes off of Hughes, as if they were locked in some kind of twisted staring contest.

“Their names sound familiar,” Grace admitted, eyes narrowed. “They were recommended by the Lord Mayor.”

“Oh. On your ‘best people of the city’ list, eh?” Tommy said bitterly. Lucy could barely bite back the sound of disgust building behind her lips. Danny made an offer to introduce them that Tommy waved off, already beginning to march towards them.

“That’s all right, Danny. I’ll introduce myself,” he said. “You stay here,” he added, glancing at Lucy when she made a move to follow him. She tried not to let her shoulders sag too much in relief.

“Happy to,” she watched him walk away towards the slimy priest with her heart in her throat. Spotting a waiter from the corner of her eye, she snagged a glass from the tray he was carrying and took a bountiful sip of the liquor it contained. Danny made small talk with Grace for a moment more before excusing himself with a good natured smile to say hello to someone he recognized across the ballroom.

“What was that about?” Grace asked, as soon as they were alone.

“What was what about?” Lucy asked innocently, taking another sip from her drink.

“You know what.”

She sighed, rubbing at her brow with her free hand. “Nothing for you to worry about. Really.”

“You don’t like Hughes.”

“I’m an ex-Catholic, Grace. I don’t particularly like priests in general,” her eyes scanned over the guests surrounding them, looking for any other unexpected faces. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Grace asked, expression turning from curious to alarmed. But there was no time to explain. The dark haired, extravagantly dressed woman was already making her way towards them.

“Russians,” was all Lucy had time to get out in explanation. Grace’s eyes grew wide. “Just play nice. It’ll be fine,” she forced a smile onto her face. “Hello, Tatiana.”

“Miss. Winters,” Tatiana said in her thick Russian accent, dark eyes looking her up and down.

“Please, just Lucy is fine,” she gestured to Grace. “Grace, this is Duchess Tatiana Petrovna. Tatiana, this is Grace Shelby.”

“A Duchess?” Grace’s eyes grew round with excitement. “Truly?”

“Yes,” Tatiana smiled in a way that was more like a bearing of teeth. “You’re Mr. Shelby’s wife?”

“I am.”

Tatiana’s eyes darted between them, lips settling in a smirk. “I see.”

Lucy busied herself downing the rest of her glass, setting it on the tray of a passing waiter.

“Lovely sapphire,” Tatiana was commenting to Grace when Lucy turned back to them. “Where did you get it?”

“My husband gifted it to me,” Grace smiled sweetly.

“Hm. It just looks familiar, is all.”

“You think it’s Russian?”

“Quite possibly,” Tatiana’s eyes slithered away from Grace to focus on Lucy. “Yours isn’t,” she remarked, eyeing the garnet resting on Lucy’s chest. “I wonder if that fact holds some significance?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Other that I prefer garnets over other gemstones?”

Tatiana giggled. “Just an observation,” her eyes glittered with mad mirth.

In the sea of the crowd, Lucy spotted Tommy shouldering his way towards them.

“Tommy,” Grace called to him. She nodded to Tatiana, introducing them. Tommy took one look at the Russian, seemingly unsurprised at her presence as he nodded in unenthusiastic greeting and cleared his throat. Lucy met his eyes from across the little circle the four of them had formed. He looked annoyed. Clearly whatever chat he’d had with Hughes and Jarvis hadn’t gone well. Grace raised an eyebrow at his lukewarm reaction, an analytical edge entering her eyes as the conversation continued. The eyes of the spy she had once been, darting between the three of them, clearly trying to puzzle out their connection to the duchess.

“You should have kissed my hand, Mr. Shelby,” the sudden entitlement in Tatiana’s voice took Lucy by surprise, her chin lifted as she thrusted her hand out towards him.

For a moment, all three of them froze. Grace’s face went stony. Even as the smile remained on her lips, all of the warmth was sucked from her eyes, as if swallowed up by a vortex. Lucy glanced between them anxiously, suddenly itching to have a cigarette between her fingers, its smoke filling her lungs soothingly. Tommy stared at Tatiana, eyes cold.

“Forgive me,” Lucy didn’t miss the subtle layer of sarcasm in his voice, before he dipped his head and pressed a kiss to the back of Tatiana’s gloved hand. Tatiana held eye contact with Grace the entire time, lips set in a smug smirk. Lucy rolled her eyes. Grace looked like she was fighting back a scowl.

“She was asking about my sapphire,” Grace said when he had pulled back.

“I thought I recognized it,” Tatiana crooned.

“She said it was Russian. My husband has business in Russia. Perhaps you know about it, Tatiana?” Grace was clearly feeling things out, trying to piece it all together. Lucy swallowed, suddenly aware that she may be about to come to some very wrong, very bad conclusions.

“Well, tonight is not a night for business, eh?”

Lucy winced at Tommy’s response. Could have been worse, she supposed. Then she took a look at Grace’s face. Could have been better, too.

“Is that why you were in the concert hall for ten minutes?” Grace demanded. Her voice was light and cheery, a smile still in place. But the blue of her eyes was that of storm clouds building in the sky. Lucy felt her shoulders draw into themselves like they always did whenever Grace and Tommy fought or bickered. It wasn’t often, but it never failed to make her feel awkward; wanting to help them smooth over whatever was bothering them while also fearing that any attempt at interference on her part would only make things worse.

Thank God they never fought because of her. She was pretty sure that she would actually die from the mortification and guilt of it if they did.

“I think people are ready for dinner now, Grace,” Tommy tried to side-step, but the damage had already been done.

“No, no. I’m not done pumping people for money.”

Lucy felt her brows fly up at the wording.

“What is ‘pump for money?’” Tatiana asked with what was clearly mock confusion.

“It’s what I do everyday,” Tommy said self-deprecatingly, looking like he hoped that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Fuck it, I need a cigarette,” Lucy muttered, fumbling with her clutch. Just to cut the tension before it killed her. She pulled one out and lit it, inhaling the smoke, grateful for the distraction. Much better.

“You know each other, do you?” Grace finally went in for the kill, looking between Tommy, Tatiana, and Lucy pointedly.

“Not like that,” Lucy muttered quietly, looking at the floor, hoping that would somehow help to diffuse things. It didn’t. Grace just continued to go back and forth with Tatiana, each statement growing more aggressive than the last. From the corner of her eye, Lucy saw Tommy make a gesture to someone she couldn’t see. She wondered if he would forgive her if she bolted and left him to be fought over by the two women. She shot a glance his way, waiting until she caught his eye. He took one look at her face and narrowed his gaze.

Don’t you dare, he said to her, silently. Lucy huffed, just barely discernible enough that only he would notice.

Fine. But know that I only endure this awkwardness because I love you.

“All right, enough,” Tommy finally declared. Oh, thank you. “Ada,” he called to his sister, who came swooping in to whisk Grace away to talk to a Dowager. She went a little unwillingly, and with a promise to Tatiana that they would be speaking later.

Lucy stubbed out her cigarette, sighing miserably. She so did hate it when Grace was upset.

“Going to the factory tomorrow is a mistake,” Tommy said to Tatiana once they were alone. Or as alone as they could be in a crowd of people. Lucy shot a surprised look his way.

What’s this, now?

He looked back at her levelly. I’ll tell you later.

“Nevertheless, we will go,” Tatiana seemed unbothered. “Also, my uncle ordered me to seduce you to give us an advantage. But with a beautiful wife like that it will be difficult, no?” her eyes darted to Lucy. “Perhaps your little Red Demon here can give me some pointers,” she smiled, honey-sweet. Complete with bees ready and waiting to sting.

“Tomorrow is a mistake,” Tommy soldiered on, ignoring her statement. Lucy watched them go back and forth on the issue, digging her hands into the soft dark fur that surrounded her shoulders. This evening had not gone at all like she had hoped it would.

“I would fuck you for the cause. What do you think of that?” Tatiana was asking Tommy.

“I think you should not drink vodka with champagne,” he said in a dark voice, beginning to walk past her, hand out to gently brush along Lucy’s back and guide her with him. She let out a breath of relief.

“Does your wife know that the sapphire she is wearing has been cursed by a Gypsy?” Tatiana called to them, giggling. They both froze. Lucy felt her face pale. Tommy turned back around to stare at the duchess.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing on Earth would make me wear it,” Tatiana said, suddenly deathly serious. Lucy felt her heart rate spike. Even as Tatiana turned away from them, melting back into the crowd. Tommy looked at her, face drawn and eyes suddenly fearful.

“Maybe…maybe she was just mad at you for rejecting her,” Lucy whispered. But even as she said it, she knew that she didn’t believe it. Tommy’s throat worked as he swallowed. A heavy, dark blanket of dread had been tossed over both of them. Springing into movement suddenly, he snatched her hand, half dragging her with him as he took long, hurried strides across the room to where Grace was chatting with Ada.

“Grace, listen to me,” Tommy grabbed her by the shoulder. “Look, I can explain. Go away,” he swept a hand at someone who had been coming up to talk to them. Grace tried to pull away from him. A gong was struck, the sound reverberating throughout the room as a man announced a toast to the king, and that dinner would be served in the next room.

“For once, you shouldn’t have to explain,” Grace said softly under the man’s toast.

“Love, please,” Lucy begged, keeping her voice down. They’d get the necklace off of her. Just to be safe. Then they would have Polly look at it. Or maybe Esme or some of her kin. To make sure it was safe before Grace wore it again.

“You look beautiful,” Tommy said, reaching for the necklace. “But you need to take this off.”

“Why? Because you think it would look better on her?” Grace asked, and while it was clearly intended to come out as angry and bitter, there was a twinge of sadness to her voice that made Lucy’s heart twist.

“Of course not,” she said.

“Grace,” Tommy seized her tightly by the shoulders and pulled her in close. “Look at me, fuck these people, eh. Fuck ‘em. I need you to be alright,” his voice grew more desperate. “I need you, Grace. I need you.”

Grace’s face changed as he spoke, expression softening. Stroking a hand down his chest, she lifted it to touch his chin, guiding his mouth to hers as she kissed him. Lucy took a step backwards so as to not look suspicious. Most of the guests had already started to file towards the doors to the dining area.

“Damn you, Tommy Shelby,” Grace smiled, chuckling as she kissed him a few more times. Lucy let out a small breath of relief, shoulders relaxing, smiling as she watched them. They were okay. It was all alright.

Walking around them, she brushed close to Grace for the briefest of moments.

“Love you,” she whispered to her as she did, continuing to move so that she was standing a little behind Tommy. Grace looked up at her from over his shoulder and beamed, blowing her a small, subtle kiss that made Lucy giggle, trying to hide it in the fur she still had wrapped around herself.

“Shall we go inside?” Grace asked, still smiling.

“Yeah,” Tommy took her hand as they began to walk towards the doors on the farthest end of the room. Lucy fell into step a few paces behind them, on Tommy’s right.

It would haunt her forever, how she didn’t see the man storming towards them until after he had shoved past Polly. Until after he had raised the gun in his hand, the words, “for Angel!” bellowing from his lips to be joined by the crack of the gun firing at Tommy and Grace.

There were people screaming, but she couldn’t really hear them. Her mind didn’t even catch up with her body until she was already kneeling on the floor. The blood pouring out of Grace’s chest was hot against her hands even through the material of her gloves as she pressed down against the wound. Tommy’s voice screaming for an ambulance, screaming for help, was but an echo. He had Grace cradled in his arms, as the three of them sprawled out there on the cold, hard floor. There was vengeful, rageful roaring somewhere, and the squelch of blood and bone being crushed and splattered. Vaguely, she figured that some of the Shelbys must have dealt with the assassin. It was the only reason why they weren’t all dead.

There was the clatter of heels and a whirl of pink skirts as Polly raced towards them, as she took Tommy’s hand for a brief moment. He said something to her that Lucy couldn’t hear over the ringing in her ears, and then she was racing away from them.

The blood continued to pour out onto Lucy’s hands.

Grace was clutching Tommy tightly. Her lips were parted and pale, eyes wide and clouded with pain. She was trying to say something, but Lucy thought she heard Tommy gently shushing her. Telling her to save her strength. One of Grace’s hands looped around Lucy’s arm, holding onto her.

It could have been eternal hours or simple minutes that they laid there. The blood had run down to pool onto the floor, staining Grace’s dress and Lucy’s legs. Even staining Grace’s beautiful blonde hair. Lucy’s arms were shaking with the force in which she was pressing down on the bullet wound.

Please…

Grace’s skin was frighteningly pale. Her breaths rattled shallowly in her chest.

No, please…

Lucy felt Grace’s grip on her arm go slack.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, nonononononononono…

Her head lolled backwards, blue eyes going dark and lifeless.

A strangled sound left Lucy’s lips, pressing down even harder on the wound. As if it would make any difference.

Someone was saying her name, touching gently at her straining arms, trying to pull them away. Her head snapped upwards, ready to snarl at whoever it was attempting to drag her away from Grace.

Any viciousness within her died at the look on Tommy’s face.

She’d seen him upset plenty of times. Too many to count. She’d seen him grief-stricken. And heartbroken. And so wracked with trauma he could barely form words. None of it compared to the expression currently molded onto his features, blue eyes a chasm of endless devastation and agony.

Her brow knit as if in confusion. Not entirely understanding until the part of her brain that was still in denial started to catch up to the rest of her. Processing that there was only one reason why Tommy would look like that.

She didn’t even realize it when she started to tremble, arms slackening where they’d been pressed to Grace’s chest.

Tommy still had an arm cradling Grace, but the one he had reached out to Lucy cupped the side of her face, thumb catching the first tear to roll down her cheek.

On her first sob, he let go of her face to wrap his arm around her and pull her close until she was resting her head on the spot where his shoulder met his chest. Lucy flung her arms around him, burying her face in his shirt, hand fisting with the back of his suit jacket. Clutching at him as she finally started to cry. She could feel the way that his body tensed as if trying to contain his own sobs, the arm he had around her squeezing so tightly it was almost hard to breathe. His face buried in her hair, and she could feel the wetness of the tears he was trying so hard to hide against her scalp.

As they sat there, on the cold, blood drenched floor and wept into each other, it was like she could feel a great splintering; ripping its way across their entire world and bringing it all crashing down around them. And all they could do was hold each other and cry as they clung to Grace’s dead body in their arms.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #grace burgess #grace burgess x oc #tommy shelby x grace burgess x oc #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #lucy winters x grace burgess #lucy winters x tommy shelby x grace burgess #my ocs #my fanfiction #in the bleak midwinter

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quuma · 1 year

Text

『𝔾ℝℝℝℝℝ 𝕄𝔸ℝ𝔸𝕌𝔻𝔼ℝ ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻ℂ𝔸ℕℕ𝕆ℕ𝕊 ℝ𝔸𝔸𝔸𝔸𝔸𝔸𝔸𝔸 *𝕒𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒 𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕝𝕤*:』

𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘺𝘢'𝘭𝘭 😍😍😍😍😍 𝘈𝘏𝘋𝘑𝘚𝘏𝘑𝘈𝘍

𝘾𝙒: 𝙪𝙝𝙢,,, 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙚?? 𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝙫𝙖𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙪𝙨’𝙨 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙮𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙮, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩’𝙨,, 𝙮’𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬,, 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙪𝙨 𝙇𝙊𝙇,, 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙘 𝙞 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 ¾ 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙚

𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨; 75% 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘯, 23% 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦,,, 2% 𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘓𝘖𝘓 !!

𝙗𝙩𝙬 𝙮𝙖’𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖 𝙋𝙪𝙣𝙨™ 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙪𝙨’𝙨 𝙡𝙮𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙮 𝙞 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚 (𝙘𝙧𝙮 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙟𝙞) 𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮 :( 𝙥𝙡𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙡 𝙢𝙚

𝙊𝙃 𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙚𝙧𝙖 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙,,, 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 1970𝙨! 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 :)

OKAY FINAL FINAL NOTE! just a quick warning to people who read this but don't know me, i am an X READER ONLY blog! so please no character x character comments <3 i've seen quite a few unsavoury interactions on tumblr surrounding this topic before, so thank you in advance for your understanding :) [no hate towards anyone who only interacts with cxc content! it's just not my sort of content, so please don't bring it up on my blog! :)]

DISCLAIMER; THESE HEADCANNONS ARE 90% BASED ON FANON DEPICTIONS. in canon all of the marauders are NOT great people to say the least [some much worse than others 💀], and I am in NO WAY trying to act as if they’ve never done a thing wrong in their life, and that they’re all uwu soft feminist icon saint 😍. I KNOW that they canonically are all incredibly messed up [lupin’s overwhelming insecurities influencing his cowardice, making him not only risk the lives of his students and attempt to abandon his pregnant wife, but also enable his friends’ behaviours in fear of being ostracised (can’t rlly blame the guy too much for being insecure, but still. explanations of behaviours doesn’t negate that those behaviours are still bad), potter’s quite literally just a bully who sexually harassed and physically harmed snape, and then blackmailed and tricked the girl he liked into thinking he’d changed for the better, and black,,, just needing severe therapy. there’s honestly so much going on with him that I’d need to make a whole post.], I simply depict them in their more fanon-influenced forms because it’s comforting and a fun past-time :)

♥---------------------------------------------------------------------------♥

kisses;

remus,, hand kisses !!! HAND. KISSES. RAAAAAA okay just imagine it,, him sitting next to you while youre both busy [him with reading/listening to music in his earphones, and you studying] and gently holding your non-occupied hand,, occasionally habitually rubbing his thumb across the back of it,, and out of nowhere - without even lifting his gaze from the enrapturing words scattered across the pages of his novel - he just lifts your hand up to his liips and does one of those slow gentle kisses to it !! and afterwards he just puts your hand back down and goes back to peacefully reading, not even thinking about how effected you would be from such casual intimacy,, bc like,, he just doesn’t think that he did anything particularly special ASHJHDFADHSJ CRYING SCREAMING THOWING UP WHEN IS IT MY TURN

OMFG AND NECK/JAWLINE KISSES

I feel like remus would have a habit of just resting his head in the crook of your neck/collarbone whenever he gets stressed/overwhelmed [or just annoyed with the other marauders LOL], and once he’s calmed down he’ll tilt his head towards you and kiss your neck or jawline as a silent thank you before fully pulling away… AHKDHSDSJ iMAGINE HIM WHISPERING INTO YOUR EAR BEFORE FULLY PULLING BACK TOO RAAAAAAA *alpha howls, growls and rips shirt open*

wait guys was Remus a Prefect?? i need to make sure i use the right terminology

nvm the internet is terrible at school 💀💀 let's hope that i'm right

[“the sound of shuffling fabric and slight movement from the prefect leaning against your side steals your attention away from the potions textbook that had dutifully held your attention for the past hour. “I swear, they’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he gently sighs into the side of your head. his exaggerated breath sends a cloud of warmth across your ear, mussed strands of his hair tickling your cheek as you shake out a soft chuckle. You murmer back a half-hearted, blasé response, mind still mainly focussed on the procedures and ingredients required to be memorised for your upcoming potions test. remus stays pressed against you for a moment longer - savouring the peace he seldom has the joy of experiencing - before slowly turning his head to face your neck, silently placing a gently kiss on the bare skin before pulling away, moving back to sit properly on the dormitory’s couch.” SIDE EYE]

or like,, playing with his hair while he’s leaned against you AHJAHSJSH bro probably has rlly soft hair,,

OKAY MOVING ON FROM REMUS

JAMES.

JAME [whatever his middle name is,,, i think it’s Florence or smth] POTTER.

the one and only True Feminist King ™ and Lady’s Man ™

okay jkjk i’ll actually get into his kiss hcs now,,,

CHEEK KISSES! NOSE KISSES!

these are gonna be much less detailed than remus’s ones LOL sorry for being a simp :/// plus im writing these at school rn and i don’t have enough time left in this study period to add lots more detail [remus took me like 35 mins HDHAJDHS i only have 25 mins left smhhhhhh]

i know that James sort of has the same Playboy ™ label as Sirius,, but he seems like a much less promiscuous person to me [probably bc he was a Loyal King ™ to our resident girlboss Lily MF EVANS]

there’s just something so,, innocent? about cheek kisses! theyre so childish, but one of the purest forms of affection that i can think of!

I feel like especially because he’s so busy with all of his school duties [quidditch captain, prefect i think,,, i dont rlly remember LOL (LMAO okay i just checked,, apparently he was Head Boy but NOT a Prefect), and general studies], he wouldn’t have much time to have the long cuddling/affection sessions that he wants! SO! INSTEAD! stolen cheek kisses whenever you happen to see eachother in the halls between your classes! theyre quick, easy, and accessible - plus aren’t TOO PDA-like that it’d particularly bother anyone [and wouldn’t cause anyone to complain about their Prefect (correction: Head Boy) not being a very good example to the 1st Years LOL]!!

just quick pecks on the cheek and yelled “love you! see you at dinner!” while he rushes past to make sure he gets to quittich practice in time [and so his fellow teammembers dont yell at him for getting caught up with you and being late AGAIN],,

so cute *sobs violently*

I feel like everyone makes him out to be too much of a fuckboy,,, idk I just can’t rlly see him being a fuckboy?? he was pretty loyal to Lily (even though his methods of getting her attention were,,, questionable)

and like yeah he’s a horny teenager who wants to make-out but literally everyone writes about that so im making him soft instead AHDJBHSA

HELP I JUST HAD THE BIGGEST HEART ATTACK BC MY CHROME TAB CRASHED AND I THOUGHT IT DIDN’T SAVE ALL THIS WRITING

okay im fine now :)))) back to writing mORE JAMES

NOSE KISSES!!

y’know how people’s nose scrunches up whenever someone kisses it??? THIS MF L O V E S THAT

HE EATS IT UP FOR BREAKFAST, LUNCH AND DINNER

as he should tbh

scrum-diddly-umptious - that’s some good fucking food

he’ll do it as a way to annoy you and get your attention whenever you arent focussed on him (like you SHOULD be 😒😒 smh smh)

also like,, if both of you have glasses they’ll bump into each other and *click* whenever he gets close enough to actually kiss your nose, making both of you giggle RAAAAAAA

and if you did it to him instead!! His glasses will slightly fall down while his nose scrunches up, giddy smile stretched across his lips and cheeks brushed with a slight blush RAAAAAA A SOFT GLEAM IN HIS EYE BC HE ADORES WHENEVER YOU ACT AFFECTIONATE WITH HIM RAAAAAAAAA *rips shirt open and falls to my knees, transforming into my Alpha ™ form while growling*

okay now for the ONE SINGULAR Sirius hc i could think of!!!

I literally cannot write for Sirius,, idk why he’s just too much of an enigma for my small brain to handle

kisses on the back of the shoulder/neck :,(((((((

he just stands behind you and either like,,, holds you from behind [maybe not that seems a little TOO OOC] OR is looking over your shoulder at something youre holding/doing and lets out a small humm of acknowledgement before softly kissing the back of your neck and walking off to go back to whatever task he was originally doing

I feel like he does that a lot,,, just walks over to see what youre doing and nodding like “oh, cool, i approve of this action” before moving on and doing whatever he has planned

it’s nothing judgmental or malicious!! he’s just curious to see whatever has you so enraptured and distracted

occasionally he’ll tell you the answer to a homework question/exam revision page if that’s what youre doing, but only if youre visibly struggling! he wants you to be able to do it on your own [OOC FUCK I CANT WRITE SIRIUS IM SORRY *SOBS CRIES AND SHITS ON FLOOR*]

I feel like he’d also kiss your back/neck at random times during the day just to annoy.bother you!

in the middle of a conversation? he’s behind you pecking your shoulder before continuing on his walk with James to their next class. sitting down at the dining hall table eagerly awaiting your meal? he’s lifting your hair and kissing the back of your neck before sliding into the empty spot on the bench next to you.

Absolute MENACE.

but it’s cute so it gets a pass from me <333333 teehee

HANDS AND BODY HANDS AND BODY HANDS AND BODY-;

remus’s hands,,, long, bony fingers! Medium-long nails,, he files them against any hardcover books that he reads teehee <3

perpetually cold fingertips??? but VERY warm palms,,, mmmm comfy

scarred hands! ik ik this is a very popular headcannon that everyone talks about but shUT THE FUCK UP IM TALKING ABOUT IT AGAIN

mmmm,, yummy scar texture,,, okay no that makes it sound like im trying to downplay/sexualise his lycanthropy hhnngggg 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ I PROMISE IM NOT I JUST LIKE HOW SCAR TEXTURE FEELS

the scars make his hands feel very calloused!! most of his scarring would be scratches/similar wounds [i also feel like he also constantly has paper cuts on his fingers from when his fingers slip between pages,,, YES another headcannon but remus is an avid Bookmark Hater ™ ❌❌ finger bookmarks only for this guy ✅✅!! he almost always has a finger or two jammed between two pages, clutching onto the book for dear life, praying that neither james nor sirius knocks into him and makes him accidentally slip them out] [OKAY ADDING ONTO THAT as a precautionary measure just in case he DOES actually get knocked and lose the page (which happens more often than he’d like) he constantly mumbles the page number under his breath until he’s able to read again AHFDSJFHJD “page119page119page119page119page119page119- oh, yes, i can grab that bag for you, it’s really not a bother to me at all- page1,,page,, FUCK-”], so it doesn’t cover every single area of skin, which would create this rlly cool dynamic between calloused scars and soft skin !!! ME LOVES CONTRAST

body,,, body,,, tall guy! wait is he canonically tall as well or is my brain making this up ?? whatever LOL

BUT YES A TALL GUY,, like TALL TALL,,, like no matter how tall you are he probably has a cm on you, yknow?

oh youre 391cm tall? well remus is 392 cm tall 🥱 get better at being tall, loser

AHAHHDSJDH OKAY im kidding i promise

body type,, lean? I dont know whether or not i should mention any definite muscles or not,,hmmm

because on one hand, it makes sense for him to have a little bit of lean muscle on him! he needs at least some amount of strength to deal with his transformations,,, but then again maybe all of that strength only comes out because he’s transformed, and isn’t technically in his own body? that would create another interesting dynamic between his human and werewolf counterparts! it would probably act as a good way for him to mentally separate himself from his lycanthropy,, just pretend that it isn’t even you,, but i also feel like that would do more harm than good for his mind? it would probably create some sense of imposter syndrome [if that’s what it’s called],,, BUT THATS A CONVERSATION FOR ANOTHER TIME

i could also see his body being incredibly frail and weak though, too! like the transformations take so much out of him, and his physique is SO strong during those few transformed hours, that his body cannot properly recover from it, making it almost impossible to build up much muscle mass,,,, OOO that would create SUCH an interesting view of his lycanthropy! instead of remus just seeing it as something monstrous and shameful, he’d also associate it with a parasite of some kind! leeching off and affecting his health on a daily basis,, never allowing him a moment of respite to try and forget he isn’t fully human unlike the rest of his friends and peers,, that would make his lycanthropy a MUCH more severe issue than it is already [although it IS still incredibly serious! I dont mean to sound like I'm downplaying it], as it can slowly kill him even when not in transformation!,,,,HMMM there are too many options to choose from!

from a character-depth and angst-lover perspective, i prefer the second option, but from a Remus Lover ™ perspective, the first is probably better^^ poor guy deserves to be somewhat happier :(

besides that one section of his hands that’s always freezing, i feel like rest of his body runs pretty warm! that’s likely attributed to his lycanthropy, though [wolves are incredibly warm animals! especially if you consider their natural habitats and many layers of fur!]

FINALLY MOVING ON FROM REMUS

JAMES. AGAIN.

i feel like not many people talk about how,, buff??? built?? Idk the word for it but James definitely wouldn’t be the little skinny guy that i see quite a few people describe and draw him as

this mf was a chaser and eventual captain for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for almost his entire 7 years at Hogwarts 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ that boy would have to be at least a little bit muscular

I’m definitely not saying he has the body of those creepy 35-year-old actors that play highschool football teammates in American tv shows, but he’s a pretty solid dude!

OMFG I JUST REMEMBERED THE WORD I WAS LOOKING FOR!! “bulky”,,, or “broad”

by no means does he have a six pack, but he definitely has built arms and thighs from all of his quidditch practice! just a very broadly-built guy

WAIT OW IMAGINE HOW MUCH YOUR THIGHS WOULD HURT AFTER RIDING A BROOM FOR TOO LONG 😭 the chafing must be INSANE

BUT REGARDLESS, this trait carries onto his hands !!

chunky hands! VERY calloused from holding his broom so tightly,,, squarish palms,,,

ANOTHER CONSTANTLY WARM GUY OMFG HES LIKE A FURNANCE 😭 like bro pls go see a doctor you shouldn’t be emitting that much heat from your body

♥---------------------------------------------------------------------------♥

𝘖𝘒𝘈𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘖𝘒𝘐𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘙𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛’𝘚 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘕𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘐 𝘏𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘕𝘖𝘞 <333 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘛 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘭’ 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴 <333 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 [,,, 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘈𝘏𝘑𝘋𝘈𝘚𝘏𝘍𝘑 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘯,, 𝘪 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘴,,, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪’𝘮 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘚𝘖𝘉𝘚 𝘐 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘞𝘐𝘚𝘏 𝘐𝘛 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘋𝘜𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘕 𝘌𝘙𝘈 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘗/𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘜𝘋𝘌𝘙𝘚 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘞𝘌 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘖𝘕𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞,,, 𝘪 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴,,]

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 13

Synopsis – In which she loves him, but he's utterly, painfully clueless. Awra always believed love should be easy – a beautiful gift from Eywa herself. But when she falls for the oldest Sully, it's a love filled with trial. A tale of coming apart and finding your way back.

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: Posting this from my Ao3 account, please feel free to head over there to read this story as well! I realised only after being 14 chapters in that I spelt Omatikaya wrong this entire time – my apologies in advance. But please enjoy this story nonetheless!

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

“So?” Is all Kiri says when she slides onto the smooth flat rock Awra is seated on. It’s the rock she and Neteyam had shared all those eclipses ago, when they had exchanged playful jabs and of course, their first kiss. The memory brings a warmth to her chest despite the sting of the night breeze, and she lets out a ragged sigh before finally turning to face Kiri.

“I’m sorry Kiri.” Awra murmurs, voice filled with contrition. “I really am.”

“I know, and I already told you it’s okay. So what’s up? What did you want to tell me that you couldn’t say in front of Tuk?” Kiri asks, hands grasping a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. The shawl is beautifully beaded with Ometicayan thread patterns, and Awra knows it was made with Neytiri’s help without doubt. The weaving pattern is unlike anything the Metkayina use when making clothing.

Kiri notices Awra’s stare. “My mom helped me make this. Or rather, she made it while I just helped to look for these stones.” Kiri’s voice is light and airy, the telltale sign of a giggle bubbling up. Awra can’t help but smile fondly, fingers grazing the delicate handiwork as she sighs.

At Kiri’s mention of Neytiri, Awra is reminded of her interaction with the Sully mother earlier that day. She fiddles absentmindedly with one of the stones on Kiri’s shawl – a smooth, turquoise stone that shines even in the dimness of eclipse. “Stop that!” Kiri grumbles, batting her hand away playfully. Awra chuckles, bringing her knees to her chest instead, and resting her elbows on her knees.

“Mother told me you dropped by this morning.” Comes Kiri’s questioning whisper, the Ometicayan turning to look at her.

“Yeah,” Awra chuckles emptily, “I did.”

Kiri looks on quizzically. “And for what?”

Awra laughs sheepishly. “Well, I came looking for you and Tuk. I wanted to apologise.” She replies, opting to pick at the skin on her fingers instead – a nervous tick. “But your mom, she…she wasn’t happy to see me. To say the least.” Insecurity bubbles in her gut, ugly and dark at the memory of Neytiri’s hateful glances.

“What did she say?” Kiri asks quietly, carefully watching Awra’s face. Awra shrugs, still playing with her fingers. “Well?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Awra replies, voice laced with defeat. She straightens her legs, letting her toes dip into the warm sand. “She has every right to be upset at me, after what I did. I don’t blame her. I know she doesn’t mean it.”

Kiri doesn’t argue. “Have you spoken to Neteyam then?”

Awra shakes her head. “I–I can’t.” She looks up at Kiri at that, seeing the Ometicayan girl frown. Awra bites her lip, already feeling the first dredges of shame burn its way up her throat and onto her face. “I–it’s complicated.” Is all she manages, grimacing at the cliche of it all.

“Awra.”

“I swear I’m not trying to make things difficult on purpose, Kiri. I just–”

“What is it then?” Kiri’s eyebrows raise, hand coming to rest on Awra’s thigh. “You did say not to push me away anymore.”

Awra grimaces, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah I did.” Kiri offers a supportive smile, the corners of her mouth crinkling.

Sucking in a deep breath, Awra wills the churning in her gut to cease. She peers at Kiri, taking in the Ometicayan’s windswept hair and troubled expression, and whispers a prayer to Eywa for courage. “There’s more that happened, that night. With Te’lau.”

“More?”

“Yeah,” Awra clears her throat, browbone creased. “He didn’t just call me names.”

Kiri’s eyebrows pinch even more. “What did he do?”

“When he smelt Neteyam on me, he…he held me down, on the ground. And then he–”, she sucks in a sharp breath, feeling shameful tears burn at her waterline. Keep it together. “He bit me. Here.”

She tugs away the necklace she was wearing, the intricate weaving patterns concealing Te’lau’s bite wound. Awra watches as Kiri’s eyes widen in horror, hand covering her mouth as she sees it. The bite mark is healing, but it’s one born of violence – evident in the way the skin has scarred, raised and curled as it sat on Awra’s skin. But clear as day, Kiri can see four puncture wounds – the scar tissue still a deep, inflamed pink as Awra’s body struggles to heal.

“Awra–” Kiri whispers, voice shaky as she watches the Metkayina snap her necklace back into place around her neck. “He bit you?” Kiri sounds terrified. Awra’s heart sinks at the sound – in the many eclipses she’d known the Ometicayan girl, Kiri had always been free-spirited and sarcastic. She’d heard the Ometicayan banter with her brothers, exchanging playful jabs with Tuk, but never afraid. If Awra thought about it, what did Kiri have to be afraid of? Lo’ak and Neteyam were always close-by, keeping an eye out for her. If only he’d been there that night. Maybe this would never have happened. No Awra. This is not his fault. It’s yours. It’s yours.

Awra nods. “He held me down, said he’d tell everyone about how I let–let Neteyam put h–his hands on me. He called me a whore, said he’d tell e–everyone about me and Neteyam if I said anything.” She fights at the sob tearing its way out of her chest, brushing away a tear that leaks down her cheek stubbornly. “Then he bit me.” Her voice breaks at the admission, croaking as she desperately attempts to blink away the tears.

Kiri makes an aguished sound, surging forward to pull Awra into a hug. Awra leans into the touch, resting her head on Kiri’s shoulder. She doesn’t feel like sobbing, but the tears still come; rolling down her cheeks. “It hurts, Kiri. It still hurts now. It hurts so bad.”

“Oh Eywa, Awra–”

“It hurts when he’s near me. When he talks to me, it burns. It hurts the worst when he comes close, when he tells me I’ll always bel–belong to him. It aches, like coals under my skin.” Awra shudders, body curling into Kiri’s for comfort. “It’s like a reminder that I’ll never be rid of him. And I just–”

Awra lets the first sob free. It rips violently out of her chest, squeezing at her lungs as she gasps for breaths between each heave. She presses her face into Kiri’s shoulder even harder, trying to stifle the sounds of her fear, of her sorrow and her helplessness.

“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice is small, a representation of how she feels inside. Kiri’s hold on her tightens, and she lets out a shuddery exhale.

“Oh Eywa, Awra. Please, please, please tell me you told someone. Anyone.”

Awra shakes her head, face tucked in the crook of Kiri’s neck. Kiri whimpers at that, and Awra feels a sense of loathing for herself in her gut. Would anyone have listened, even if I’s said something? Would they have believed me over him?

“I’m so sorry, Awra.” Kiri hushes, traces of tears in her delicate eyelashes. She blinks them away as she leans away from Awra, hands firmly placed on Awra’s shoulders. “I’m so so sorry I didn’t–I didn’t–”

“How would you have known, silly girl? I was busy ignoring you remember? Being stupid?” Awra teases, voice still watery with tears.

Kiri’s eyes well with that, and she shakes her head violently. Her braids whip around, grazing the tops of shoulders. “No, I was wrong about that. Eywa, I should have seen the signs. I should have asked you instead of being petty. I should have–”

“Stop that, it’s okay.” Awra interrupts, a gentle smile on her face. Despite it all, she couldn’t find it in herself to be upset at the older Sully girl. She’d made it a point to avoid everyone in hopes Te’lau would leave her be, but as soon as she noticed it wasn’t going to work, she had already pushed everyone away. “I–I couldn’t tell you either, even if you had asked, Kiri. He would have been watching me, from somewhere. And if he found out you knew, he’d–”

Awra can’t help the shudder that follows, hand resting over the bite mark. Kiri blinks in distress at the action, reaching a five-fingered hand over to tug it away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Kiri whispers, the sound almost like a plea. “I’m sorry you were alone.”

Kiri rubs over Awra’s knuckles soothingly, thumb smooth and free of callouses. “It’s okay. I–I tried to hide, the first few days after. I’d stay at home and cook, weave or try to be helpful anyway I could. Anything to keep my mind off it.” Awra gestures to the bite mark solemnly, other hand still tangled with Kiri’s. “But every night, I’d lie awake as my parents slept, and I’d feel the bite mark burning into my neck. I’d wish for the courage to tell someone, anyone, but I just couldn’t do it.” Awra can’t help but despise the way she sounded so pathetic. Afterall, she was suffering the consequences of her own actions, wasn’t she? She deserved it.

She feels a tear roll down her cheek. “So I’d just hide at home, or come here. I’d hide, like a coward. Because he’s right, Kiri. Everything Te’lau said about me – he’s right.” The self loathing and disgust crescendos violently, and the words spill forth before she can stop them.

“He’s right. I’m–I’m a whore. And I’m in this mess because I don’t listen, and I’m selfish. I let myself get swept away in something I know I can never have because I’m too afraid of admitting I’m not strong enough to be Tsahik. That I’m not good enough. Not for my parents, not for my people and not for Neteyam.”

“That’s not true, Awra. Don’t–”

“Yes it is, Kiri. I’m here because I’m selfish, and I couldn’t just keep my head down and play Tsakarem like I’m supposed to. And now I’m–”

At her last words, her voice breaks. She doesn’t realise she’s trembling until she notices Kiri’s interlaced their fingers together. She sucks in a deep breath before exhaling slowly, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart.

“I’m his now. He’s claimed me, Kiri. This bite mark, it means–it means I’ll always be tied to him.” She’d always known what Te’lau’s bite mark meant to their union, but saying it out loud felt like it had become reality. It opens up a gaping pit of dread in her core, and all she can feel is her heart sinking deeper and deeper into the endless chasm.

For a few moments, all Awra can hear is the sound of her own breathing. Kiri has her eyes shut, like she’s thinking. Eventually, she opens her eyes, and lifts Awra’s chin up.

“We need to tell someone.” Kiri’s voice is firm, unwavering despite the tear tracks on her cobalt skin. Awra shakes her head.

“Can’t.”

“We have to. Please Awra. You–”

Awra shakes her head again, freeing herself from Kiri’s grasp. “Can’t, Kiri. Te’lau he’ll–”

“We’ll tell Neteyam. He’ll know what to do.” Kiri answers, voice laced with urgency. “Come, come. He’ll know what to do. He always knows.” Kiri loops a hand around Awra’s waist, pulling the Metkayina to her feet. Awra resists heavily, panic lacing her expression at the idea of telling Neteyam about Te’lau.

“No, Kiri, I can’t. This–it’ll get him in so much trouble if we get found out. No, just no.” Awra argues, twisting herself out of Kiri’s hold.

“Awra please. I can’t let you do this by yourself.” Kiri pleads, face twisted into a grimace. The Ometicayan looks helpless, both arms wrapped around Awra’s like a vice. “Please Awra.”

Awra felt torn. She wanted to tell Neteyam, Eywa did she want to talk to him. But it wouldn’t have been right to come to him, like this, grieving; after giving him the cold shoulder for weeks. She felt torn, chewing at her bottom lip as her gaze flickered between Kiri’s face and the ground. Her heart gave a hopeful swell at the thought of finally finally getting to talk to Neteyam, but the sinking feeling in her heart reminded her of all that was at stake.

“Awra, c’mon.” Kiri sounds desperate, voice quiet as she gently tugs Awra off the rock. “Come, come.”

“Okay, okay,” Awra finally replies, “but we have to be quiet about this. Really quiet.” Awra wipes the stubborn tear tracks away, shoulders rising and falling on her next big inhale. “I’ll talk to Neteyam, but we’ll have to do it somewhere away from the village, somewhere Te’lau can’t find us. Find me.”

Kiri nods. Awra sighs, shooting the Ometicayan a weary look.

“I mean, this is if Neteyam wishes to speak with me. After everything I’ve put you guys through these past few moons.” Awra can’t help the way she sags at the admission, defeat settling into her bones as she eyes the ocean in front of her. “I wouldn’t speak with me if I were him.”

“I’ll set you guys up. I’ll tell him to meet me near the seapools tomorrow, first thing at dawn.” Kiri devises, helping Awra to her feet. Awra clambers off the rock not-so-gracefully, hand tucked in Kiri’s. “You’ll wait for him at the seapools, and then you can tell him all about it there. Okay?”

Awra makes an uneasy sound. “Wouldn’t it be too risky though? The seapools are kinda out in the open, and I just–”

“I’ll get Lo’a and Tuk to come along too, you can bring Tsireya. Tell her we’re going to train at the seapools instead. That way, it’ll make sense for you and Neteyam to be there together.” Kiri answers, hand coming to readjust her shawl. “If anyone sees us, we can just tell them you were helping us train.”

It sounded like a plan. Awra nodded, humming an affirmative under her breath. With the other Ometicayans around, she’d be able to spend time with Neteyam without arising suspicion. Besides, with other Na’vi present, Te’lau was unlikely to corner her.

Kiri’s face lights up, and she smiles warmly at Awra. “Don’t worry, Awra. You’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it.” As she says this, Kiri squeezes Awra’s hand in hers, five fingers around four. Awra chuckles, nodding along with the Ometicayan.

As she follows Kiri back to the village, she feels a bubble of hesitation in her gut. What am I going to say to Neteyam tomorrow? What should I say? She bites her lip again, soothing over the bite marks with her tongue. Would he still be upset with her? Definitely. She just hoped to Eywa that she would be able to find the words to express her apologies when faced with the oldest Sully sibling.

“Don’t worry.” Kiri chides, a knowing smile on her face. “He misses you as much as you do.”

Awra huffs. “Yeah, sure didn’t seem like it that day he walked past me without saying hi.”

Kiri rolls her eyes. “First of all, you ignored us first. Of course you hurt his feelings.” Kiri’s chiding tone makes Awra’s ears flatten against the sides of her head, and she twirls a braid in her fingers as she avoids Kiri’s gaze.

“I know.”

“Don’t pout. You know I’m right.” Kiri retorts, giggles filling the air as her eyes squeeze into crescents. Awra pouts harder, wrinkling her nose at the Ometicayan.

“I’m just worried he won’t want to talk to me, Kiri. He seemed so upset. I guess I’m just worried I’ve ruined everything.” The little flicker of self-doubt curls in her belly again, fueled by the anxiety of meeting with Neteyam the next day.

“Like I said Awra, he misses you too. He just–needs a little time to process what he’s feeling, that’s all.” Kiri says, voice reassuring. “Whatever you have to say to him, just say it from your heart. I’m confident my brother will hear you out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Awra lets out a sigh as the village nears, the gentle glow of torches illuminating their path back to the maruis. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“See you. Don’t forget to be brave.” Comes Kiri’s reply, before she walks briskly back to the Sully marui. Awra waves, wrapping her arms around herself as she lumbers towards her family’s marui. The chill is picking up, and she shivers as she hauls herself back into her family home. Inside, she’s greeted by the sight of her sister hunched over a basket by the fireplace. It’s warm inside the marui, and she rubs her hands together to dispel the remaining dredges of cold from her fingertips.

“Tsireya?”

Tsireya jumps up, large eyes widening in surprise. “Sister! You’re home finally. I’ve been trying to weave this pattern for so long but I can’t seem to figure it out.”

Awra laughs, striding over to her sister. She takes a cursory glance at the basket in her sister’s hands, finding that the notches had been done incorrectly. “That’s because you missed a notch silly. Here, hand it over.”

Tsireya passes the basket to Awra, a pout on her full lips as she slinks up next to her sister. Awra lets Tsireya burrow into her side, laughing quietly at the way her sister’s large eyes trace her fingers as they expertly weave and fold the tendrils of seagrass into place. She weaves in silence, nothing but the occasional crackle of the fire to be heard.

“How are you sister?” Comes Tsireya’s voice, barely above a whisper. Awra’s hands pause in their weaving, and she turns to face her younger sister in confusion.

“What?”

“I asked you how you were, silly.” Tsireya’s voice lilts at the end of the sentence, trailing off into a small giggle. Awra chuckles too, setting down the half-woven basket to pull her sister into her arms.

“I’m fine, sister. Why do you ask?”

Tsireya hums, curling her fingers around Awra’s wrist lightly. “You’ve been distant and quiet, and you…you seem sad.”

Awra huffs out a breath. “Quiet and distant huh? You sound just like sempu.” Tsireya swats at her for that, to which Awra sticks her tongue out playfully. “It’s true and you know it.”

Tsireya frowns, clambering out of her sister’s hold to sit on her haunches; legs folded demurely underneath her. Awra cocks her head, watching her sister’s long hair spill down her shoulders in rivulets. “I’m not joking, Awra. I’m really worried about you.”

“I’m fine, I promise Tsireya. I’m just dealing with some stuff now, but I promise it’s all going to be settled.”

Tsireya looks at her with barely concealed irritation, huffing as she folds her arms across her chest. “I’m not little anymore, sister. You know you can tell me if you fought with Neteyam. I don’t need to hear excuses.”

Awra winces at that, a guilty smile on her face as she reaches for her sister again. Tsireya pouts again, letting her sister pull her into a hug. “I know, sevin. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I’m not exactly fighting with Neteyam, but there’s been other things weighing on my mind.”

“What things?” Tsireya looks up curiously, and Awra avoids her gaze.

“I–I can’t really talk about it right now, sevin.” Tsireya’s face falls, but Awra is quick to comfort her. “But I promise, once I speak with Neteyam tomorrow at dawn, I will tell you the truth. Okay?”

Tsireya nods, but tilts her head in confusion. “Tomorrow? But Kiri asked me to help–oh!”

“Yes, it’s just a cover so I can talk to Neteyam without y’know?” Awra jabs her head towards the tak’hu, where their parents were that night hosting a celebratory feast for the new warriors. Tsireya nods knowingly, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“I’m happy for you, sister. Everytime you speak of Neteyam, your eyes just light up.” For emphasis, Tsireya drags her fingers under her sister’s eyes, watching as Awra’s expression melt into a fit of embarrassed chuckles.

“Oh yeah? How about you and Lo’ak?” Awra drags Lo’ak’s name out on purpose, watching as Tsireya flounders shyly. “Is that who the basket is for?”

Tsireya giggles, nodding. “I tried to make him a basket because he said he needed one for when we go free diving again. But I can’t help that I’m just no good at weaving.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t help it if I’m just a master weaver.” Awra shrugs, laughing. Tsireya shoves her playfully.

“I can’t remember the last time we hung out together at home, sister. Just you and me.” Tsireya murmurs, voice quiet. “It seems like we’ve been so busy, since the Ometicayans arrived.”

Awra nods. “Yeah, sorry.” She can’t help but add an apology, suddenly feeling sorry for all those nights she’d spent sneaking out to meet Neteyam. Those nights felt like so long ago now, and she heaved a sigh at the thought.

“Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to apologise for, sister. I’ve been caught up as well, and I’ve not been the best sister to you.” Tsireya’s voice takes on a remorseful tone, her body laying closer to Awra’s. “Sometimes I forget how much you sacrifice for me.”

Awra’s browbone furrows at that, facing her sister. “Don’t say that. I do it because I love you, sister. It doesn’t weigh on me.”

“I know it does. It has to, sister.” Tsireya replies, eyes soulful as she looks at Awra. “If it were me, I doubt I would have the strength to do what you do.”

Awra sighs and looks down. “It’s not like that, Tsireya.”

“I know it is. I know Mother and Father expect you to be perfect all the time, and I know you wish you could have stayed a child for longer. I know these things sister, I can see the longing you hold in your eyes.” Tsireya pauses for a breath, wrapping her thin fingers around Awra’s forearm. “I know you wish to shield me from these thoughts you have, but I am here to remind you that I am your sister. I want to be here for you, like you are for me.”

Awra stays silent, eyes downcast. Tsireya’s words hang between them like a thick veil of mist.

“Awra, sister please.” Tsireya tugs on Awra’s forearm, urging the older girl to meet her eyes. Awra does so reluctantly, suddenly too aware of the tears clouding her vision. She’s hesitant to admit how long she’d been waiting to hear someone utter those words – words of validation to her sacrifice, an admission of her desperate desire to be the best daughter, the best sister. What she wasn’t prepared for however, was how emotional it would be to hear those words from her younger sister.

Her younger sister, who wore her heart on her sleeve; with all the warmth in the world. Tsireya. Tsireya who just years ago, bounced happily in her lap as Awra braided her hair. She couldn’t help the amused sigh she lets out at the realisation that Tsireya had grown up. Tsireya frowns, tucking a braid behind her own ear as she traces the tear that slides down Awra’s face.

“Did I oversstep?” Tsireya looks guilty, hands stroking over Awra’s gently. “I’m sorry–”

“No! No. Don’t apologise,” Awra wipes the tear from her cheek, a watery chuckle emerging from the depths of her chest. “You didn’t say anything wrong, sevin. I’m just…emotional. You’ve grown.”

Tsireya growls playfully at that, narrowing her eyes. “Of course I have, sister. Did you not notice?”

Awra laughs, swatting at her sister. “Of course I have. It’s just, I guess it seemed like yesterday you were so tiny. And now look at you. Giving your older sister advice while I cry like a fool.”

Tsireya giggles at that, one that Awra returns. She smiles at Tsireya, the warmth of the fire casting a shadow on half of her face. And yet, her sister’s love twinkles in the depths of her emerald eyes, and brings a warmth to Awra’s chest.

“The truth is, there have been things that happened lately. They’ve troubled me greatly.” Awra’s voice is small in the marui, and she shivers as a stray breeze drifts into the marui. Tsireya looks on quietly, stroking over Awra’s knuckles.

“I’m sure you are aware I am to be mated to Te’lau, as Mother and Father wish.” Awra’s throat bobs as she considers her next words. “But something happened a few eclipses ago, and he claimed me. Against my wishes.”

Tsireya’s gasp is instantaneous, and she stops stroking over Awra’s knuckles as her hands fly up to cover her mouth. Awra reaches up to tug her necklace down, showing the bite mark. Tsireya’s eyes widen even further, breath caught in her throat as her tail goes rigid behind her.

“Sister–”

“Y–yeah, that happened a few eclipses ago. He smelt Neteyam on me and I guess he, he decided that claiming me against my will would be the best thing to do.” Awra lets out a shaky sigh, hands trembling where they’re clasped in her lap. Tsireya reaches for her, warm hands soothing over her bony ones. “And now, I’m stuck at a crossroads of what to do. I love Neteyam, sister. I didn’t realise this before, but I do now. But my mating with Te’lau is written in stone, and what of a sacred union when he’s forced himself on me this way?”

Tsireya’s grip on her hands tighten, as she sucks in a sharp breath at Awra’s admission. Awra just shakes her head, willing the burning in her waterline to go away. She’d wept enough tears for the day.

“I spoke to Kiri today, and Tuk too. I apologised for pushing them away, and Kiri suggested I speak with Neteyam at dawn. About this.” Awra gestures to her neck, and Tsireya’s expression morphs into one of realisation.

“So Te’lau can’t get to you.”

Awra nods, throat dry. “Yes.”

“We should tell sempu–”

“No.” Awra is quick to interject, shaking her head. “Not yet at least. Let me, let me talk to Neteyam first. And then I’ll figure out a way to deal with Te’lau.”

Tsireya’s expression is uneasy, but she nods. “I’m sorry sister. I’ve been so distracted with Lo’ak.”

Awra shakes her head. “You sound just like Kiri.” She chuckles, squeezing Tsireya’s hand. “It’s not your fault, sevin.”

“From now on, you have to promise me you’ll tell me when things like this happen. Please sister.” Tsireya begs, eyes pleading. “I cannot bear the thought of you going through such things alone. It cannot happen anymore. Promise me.”

Awra’s eyes soften at her sister’s worry, nodding her head solemnly. She clasps their hands together as an unsaid promise, a small smile on her lips. “I’m sorry, sister. I don’t mean to worry you.”

“Of course I worry! I’ll never stop worrying sister.” Is Tsireya’s answer. “You’re my only sister. I can’t lose you.”

Awra pulls Tsireya into a hug, feeling her sister melt into her.

“You won’t lose me, sevin. I’ll always be here for you.” Awra whispers to Tsireya, watching as her sister’s eyes well with unshed tears. Her heart breaks at Tsireya’s heartbroken expression, and she tucks her sister securely into her side. “I’ll always be here with you.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #neteyam avatar #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water

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sorikkung · 1 year

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person who signed off as "sho" on the wgoin questionnaire i am holding you gently in my hands like this

i have no idea if you're from here or from ao3 but i hope youre from here so you can see this. that response meant everything to me. also i would just like to address and talk abt some of the things you mentioned so i'll put it under a readmore cause i ramble a lot but like wherever u are i appreciate u immensely and ily <3

i loved your brief elaboration back their when Chan called their scars pretty and i would totally love to see more moments of tenderness like this in the middle of an intense fuck session. like just imagine Eric taking his frustrations out on mc after everything that happened in ch 5 but he just holds MC's hands halfway through??? Can we please talk about that?????

[furiously scribbling notes on a napkin] tenderness during intense fuck session, GOT IT! DFKJKJHFD no but like i definitely have more of that planned, don't you worry. chan's is very deliberate to his character though, while eric... well. he's a lot more directly frustrating LOLOLOL not that he wouldn't hold mc's hands during an intense scene, but more that he is a capricorn and he is Extremely Petty and given the nature of what he's frustrated about currently, i hate to say that he won't be taking out his aggression on mc. 😔 that would be pretty hot though. but porn definitely takes the longest for me to write and i already have sooo much of it planned SKJDFHKSDF

the whole chan, mc, felix, Eric dynamic is intense and honestly i just need em to pile upon each other and fuck already.

you are so fucking real for this. SDFHKJSDKFHKSDF you're right they absolutely just need to fuck it all out theres a lot of pent up emotion there... but well, if the prism was any indicator, it seems that only tends to pile up even more emotions than release any, but yknow. mc in particular is really good at deluding himself. LMAO

i fucking loved the prism scene and your descriptions for the dances (as a dancer, i approve but please don't let my teacher know I'm reading this fic)

oh WOW okay i am very much Not a dancer so this one came as a surprise LMAOO i got two left feet but i can Dream </3 glad it sounds like i know what im talking about tho! LOL ur secret is safe with me <3

honestly i am fucking high everytime you have some angst cooking up with the background of other characters but mc especially. like i would love to see a lot more coming from there and maybe when the whole thing unravels he's just rlly frustrated because he just wanted to be cocky boi androgynous whore and everyone's looking at them as sad boi androgynous whore???? idk bro.

this has me rolling bc you absolutely understand the very basis of this mc. SDFKHJKSJDF tfw you want to be cocky boi androgynous whore and only end up seeming like sad boi androgynous whore 😔😔😔 there's definitely a lot more angst cooking, everything we've seen so far has been set up for it and it just keeps on building. after all, you don't get such... colourful characters like the mc and their band without a healthy helping of trauma and internalised issues. they aren't called the runaways for nothing! i will admit the angst even does get rather dark much later down the line, so here's a warning in advance for that, but like usual the warnings section will include anything that could be potentially triggering. unless you came from ao3 in which... whoops. maybe i should put individual chapter tags in the notes.

lonngggg as long as daddy eric- again, no pressure on you but i would appreciate longer chapters even if they take more time to release:)

SDFJHSDKFHDS LONG AS DADDY ERIC IM HOLLERING. i mean so far the implication in all of the mentions within wgoin is that mingi is fucking huge and the biggest mc has taken but like, i respect this LMAO anyway it seems like longer chapters is the general consensus altho i really do wonder when most people started reading this fic when they say that bc theres been 6 month waits in between some chapters and i wonder if youd still choose longer chapters over shorter ones if they took that long. LMAO. i tend to run long anyway but im tryna chop them up into smaller pieces so i can update more than like, twice a year, which seems to be working so far, but good to know if theres another chapter 1 moment where i do feel like it all needs to be in one chapter, i can just keep the ball rolling that long.

Ok i rlly think your writing style is not only very unique but rlly suitable for the type of fic you're going for so i would not suggest any changes there. be as fucking cocky as you want with the plot and writing.

this is actually so nice to hear im so 😭🥺💘😳💞 like i don't have words to express how that's one of the nicest compliments ive ever received, thank you so much. i'm always very aware that my writing comes off very differently from most of what i read and sometimes it frustrates me but for someone to call it unique and frame it in such a positive light is so heartwarming 🥺

overall thank you for taking the time to answer these questions for me and with such enthusiasm this is really the kind of thing that keeps me writing each chapter 😭😭💞 i'm very very touched and happy that you're enjoying the ride <3

#im so [SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW]#mischiefing time #what goes on in neverland

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calswildflcwer · 2 years

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Bad Reputation ! ~ Part Six

Pairing : Carlos x fem!reader.

Warnings : Foul language, name calling, hatred between Carlos and reader, swearing, annoying, angry words, violence, mentions of blood, fist fighting, kissing, makeout scene.

Plot : You and Carlos are the exact same people. You’re both fighters, both have a bad reputation and both hate each other. When one of you is in a fight, it’s usually with the other. A peaceful day cannot pass without the two of being at each other’s throats. However, it wasn’t always like that, the two of you used to be best friends when you were children. Things just keep getting worse between you until one day, the unthinkable happens.

Pronouns used : he/him for Carlos, she/her for reader.

Note : I am not a Spanish native and I don’t know any Spanish, all Spanish nicknames mentioned in this story are translated from google. If anything is wrong PLEASE let me know and I will correct it.

Info : So, we surpassed the whole “4-5 parts” thing at this point. Idk when I’ll be ending this, possibly the next part but again, don’t quote me on that because I clearly can’t be trusted with series that I write 😳

Carlos taglist : @tigreost, @try-cry-why-try, @dai-tsukki-desu, @xxhome-is-where-ria-isxx, @cassiopeia-black-brenda, @elegantkidfansoul, @ale-creates-worlds, @eeyahhh, @camilos-mivida, @inky-clover, @belladonna271, @soumya-13, @simpforcarlosmadrigal, @it-is-up-to-you.

|| prev || part six || next ||

It had been a week, a whole week. You hadn’t shown your jealousy and you had been ignoring Carlos’ advances, you had no reaction to his newfound dating life… If you could even call it that considering the fact that every time she was around him his scowl got deeper and he looked like all he wanted was to get away from her.

Now, here you sat in the plaza with him beside you as you kicked the gravel beneath your feet. The pair of you sat in a comfortable silence, until you decided to break it. “So… I noticed that you and Victoria Alvarez seem to be hanging out a lot.” You said, taking him by surprise.

His head snapped up as he stared at you, he grimaced slightly before answering, “She’s obsessed. Not that I can blame her, I mean, who wouldn’t be?” He smirked, causing you to laugh as you pushed his face away.

“You’ve always had such a big ego haven’t you?” You laughed.

Carlos laughed along with you, “Want the truth?” He asked.

You cocked a brow, turning your head to him, “Go on.” You nodded.

“That big ego only comes out around you.” He smirked, sending a wink your way.

Your cheeks flushed red as you turned your head to hide the smile that protruded your features.

However, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you heard her annoying sickly sweet voice from all the way across the plaza. Carlos grabbed your shoulders, yanking you in front of him harshly and ducking behind you; using you as a human shield of sorts. “Carlos, wha-” You began, but he cut you off.

“Hide me!” He whispered urgently.

Your brows furrowed, “You have a gift. Why don’t you just shift and wander off into the crowd?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder at the slightly older boy.

His eyes widened, “Yes! My gift! Why didn’t I think of that?!” He asked, quickly shifting into Juancho and saluting you before sprinting through the crowd and disappearing.

You watched him go, rolling your eyes slightly as a soft smile adorned your features. “Hola, (Name)!” Someone said cheerfully from behind you.

Your smile instantly fell, you rolled your eyes slightly before planting a fake smile on your face and turning to the girl behind you, “Hola Tori! How’re you doing?” You grinned.

“I’m okay! Have you seen Carlos around?” She asked you, glancing around the plaza.

You glanced around, “We were hanging out earlier but I think he said his mamá needed help with something, he left around five minutes ago.” You lied, staring at her.

“Oh.” She said, glancing down at her hands. “You’re his best friend, right?” She asked, her head perking back up to look at you.

You nodded, “Si. That’s right, yes.” You replied, silently cursing Carlos in your mind for leaving you with her.

“Well, has he, you know, ever mentioned me? Like I know he had a crush on you before but like… Has he ev-”

You cut her off, “Wait, back up. Hold up. Let’s rewind a little here.” You began. “Look, Tori, Carlos never had a crush on me.” You let her know. “I don’t know where you heard that bullshit but it isn’t true. And as for you and Carlos, he doesn’t talk to me about you.” You said, as you stood up, indicating that you had to leave. “Maybe you’re just not that special.” You shrugged as you began to walk away; heading back into the town so that you could finish up your chores for the day.

Later that day, you noticed Andrés and Daniel leaning against a wall, eyes focused in the distance. You followed their train of sight to see that they were watching Victoria all over an uncomfortable Carlos. You cocked a brow, something within you told you that they were behind this but you couldn’t be sure. You leant on the wall beside Daniel, folding your arms over your chest as one foot rested firmly on the ground whilst the other was planted against the wall that you were leaning on. “Frankly, I feel sorry for her.” You mumbled, catching both the boys attention.

Daniel’s brows furrowed as he shared a look with Andrés, “What do you mean?” Daniel asked.

“Tori. I feel sorry for her.” You repeated.

“Why? She got the guy she was interested in.” He smirked at you.

“Maybe so. However, she’s a sweet, innocent little princess, right?” You cocked a brow as you stared at Daniel who nodded.

“Ay, that’s cute. Really, it is. I was once like that. Sweet, innocent, wouldn’t dream of throwing a punch at anybody.” You shrugged.

“What happened?” Daniel scoffed as you noticed that you had now also piqued Andrés’ interest.

“I became friends with Carlos.” You told them, lying through your teeth. “When we were around seven years old, that’s when Carlos got into his first fistfight, it was a matter of weeks until his personality was rubbing off on me.” You said, glancing back over at where Carlos and Victoria were, that happened to be the truth.

“Trust me, Danny boy, give it any longer and your perfect baby sister will no longer be the sweet and innocent little princesa you’ve come to adore.” You let him know, “She’ll be just like me.” You added. “Oh, and just a FYI, mi mamá and papá divorced and mami left because of the way I turned out. Just a warning, good luck to you living in a one parent house in the near future.” You slapped the top of his arm as you pushed yourself off the wall, taking note of the horrified look that crossed his face before walking away.

“I bet it’s killing you though.” Andrés suddenly piped up, stopping you in your tracks.

“Why would it?” You scoffed lightheartedly.

“Oh, come on (name), everybody knows that you’re in love with him.” Andrés laughed, “I bet you’re jealous.” He smirked.

You cocked a brow, “I did have a tiny crush on him in high school, yeah, but I’ve moved on, Andrés.” You said, giving him a pointed look.

“You’re telling me that you’re dating someone? That you finally moved on from Carlos?” He asked, his jaw almost dropping as he did.

You nodded, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” You lied.

“Who?” He asked.

“What?” You questioned.

“Who are you dating?” He cocked a brow, a smirk growing on his features as you froze slightly.

You glanced over your shoulder, looking back towards Carlos as he pushed Victoria’s arms from around him, pushing her off him. That’s when you noticed Camilo just slightly behind him, shifting into different people for the town children. His brother. That was it. You were close with Camilo, Andrés would never question it.

“His brother.” You turned your attention back to Andrés as you lied through your teeth.

His jaw finally dropped, “What? You’re dating Camilo?” He asked.

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, “Happened at the party the Madrigals threw last week.” You shrugged. “Great kisser, 10/10 would recommend.” You added, “now, if you’ll excuse me fellas, I got work to do.” You told them before walking away, glancing over at Carlos one last time, quickly noticing that Camilo and the kids had disappeared. You rounded the corner and took a deep breath.

“Mierda…” You mumbled, running a hand down your face in exasperation.

Why did you lie? Why did you say you were dating Camilo? Jesus fucking Christ, this was gonna cause a lot of problems and you knew it!

You continued about your day, shaking off your thoughts.

You soon realised that the sun was going down and you decided to finally approach Camilo as he rested his body by the fountain; tired from entertaining the towns kids all day. You took a seat beside him on the fountain ledge, “I need to talk to you.” You said bluntly.

“Oh, hey (name), it’s great to see you too. I’m good, how are you?” He spoke sarcastically causing you to giggle.

“Shut up, jerk. This is serious.” You mumbled.

He sat up, worry etching itself onto his features, “What is it? Is it Carlos? What’s he done this time?” He asked.

You scoffed in amusement, “Normally, I’d humour you and say that is Carlos but this is serious. Cami, I may have fucked up big time and kinda lied to Andrés and Daniel about us dating…” You told him.

His eyes widened, “You did what?” He asked.

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned, “Look, I know it was stupid but they were trying to make me jealous by talking about Carlos and Victoria so I… I told them I’d moved on from Carlos and obviously I haven’t but then they asked who I moved on to and I saw you and I kinda, maybe, might’ve told them that we’re dating.” You sighed.

Camilo rubbed your back, “Okay, it’s okay. We’ll just pretend if they see us together or if they ask me anything, yeah? Look, if it makes you feel any better, Carlos can’t stand Victoria.” He let you know.

You nodded, “I know he can’t. I think Andrés and Daniel set her onto him as a trap or something, I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Camilo sighed.

“Look, Cami, if any of them ask, we’ve been dating since the night of Pepa and Félix’s anniversary party, okay? Also, I may have told them that we’d kissed.” You let him know.

“Got it. Jeez, I really hope Carlos doesn’t find out about this.” He groaned.

“You and me both, compadre.” You sighed, that was when you caught sight of the two boys you hated more than anything, “Here they come.” You mumbled.

Camilo slipped his hand into yours and intertwined your fingers, “Come on, hermosa. Mi mamá wants you to join us for dinner, please come.” He whined, staring at you with pleading eyes, letting his acting skills come into play.

You rolled your eyes, a smile adorning your features, “Ay, how could I ever say no to those doe eyes of yours?” You asked as he grinned, turning to walk.

However, he stopped, almost bumping into Andrés, “Excuse me, fellas. We’re just heading back to casita.” He said, still gripping your hand.

“So it’s true?” Andrés asked.

Camilo cocked a brow, “Depends what you’re referring to, amigo.” He told the taller boy.

“You’re dating her?” Andrés questioned.

“Si, I am. Problem?” Camilo asked, placing his free hand on his hip.

“No, no problem here. Just wanted to check if it was true.” Andrés raised his hands in surrender before stepping aside.

You glanced over your shoulder at Daniel, “Remember what I said, Danny boy. Tori won’t like watching her mamá leave and knowing it’s her fault.” You said as you were pulled along by Camilo.

Daniel let out a long sigh, folding his arms over his chest as he turned to Andrés, muttering something that you couldn’t quite make out, all you heard was “We have”, “stop” and “lose my mamá” before you were dragged around the corner and pulled towards casita by Camilo.

He let go of your hand as the two of you approached, you stopped suddenly, grabbing his hand to get his attention as you recognised the blonde haired girl that stood by the doors of casita, “What’s she doing here?” You asked.

Camilo stared over, “I have no idea.” He groaned, wrapping his fingers around your hand once again. “Come on.” He mumbled, dragging you towards the house.

You glanced down at your joint hands as he dragged you past Carlos and Victoria, Carlos turned his head; about to say something to you when he noticed that you and Camilo were holding hands. You noticed an expression cross his face, however, it was unreadable to you as you’d never seen him with that look before. He shoved Victoria harshly before following you and Camilo into the dining room, where the three of you took your places at the table. He sent a scowl his brothers way as you sat between the pair of them, your fingers nervously tapped on the table as you waited for the food to be passed around.

One thing you didn’t expect was for Abuela to walk in with the tall, blonde gorgeous goddess that Carlos had left outside. “I found this one outside, she said she’s Carlos’ girlfriend so I invited her to stay.” Abuela smiled.

You wanted to smash your head against the table, the groan that you did internally almost became an external one. Your nails dug in to the wood of the table as you fought back the urge to lunge at the puta that was now sitting across from you.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Carlos clarified, glaring at the blonde. She simply sent a sweet smile his way as the food began getting passed around.

Dinner went smoother than you thought it would. However, you were quick to excuse yourself from the gossip and chatter, you rose from your seat and headed outside, leaning on the walls of casita at the side of the wooden doorframe and taking a breather. If you’d have stayed in there much longer, you would’ve ended up strangling the bitch.

As soon as everybody got settled in the living room, she was all over Carlos yet again. Hugging him, kissing him, pulling him close, doing the things that you should be doing. He was trying his best to push her off, but nothing seemed to work, damn she was clingy. Either that or she was following someone’s orders, you had a feeling it was the latter.

You let out a long breath that you didn’t realise you were holding as you stared up at the stars, suddenly being flashed back to a memory of when you were ten years old.

You had convinced your parents to let you stay over at casita, no harm would be caused to you there, they already saw you as family and nobody in Encanto dared to mess with the Madrigals anyway. You were lying on the floor on a makeshift bed in Carlos’ bedroom but you couldn’t sleep. You felt tired but your body just wouldn’t shut down, you were tossing and turning all night. Until Carlos had had enough, that was. He sat up, letting out a frustrated groan as he did, “(Name), it is two o’clock in the morning. Go to damn sleep!” He growled over at you.

“I can’t. I’m restless.” You sighed, finally pushing yourself to sit up.

Carlos groaned, running a hand down his face before staring out of his window, “Right, come with me.” He told you as he grabbed his large fleece blanket off his bed and wrapped it around his shoulders before heading towards the window. You rose to your feet and grabbed onto his outstretched hand as he pushed the window open and began climbing out of it.

He gripped your hand tightly as he led you across the tiles and towards the highest rooftop that casita had, or second highest as you wouldn’t be able to climb on top of Bruno’s tower. The pair of you sat down and Carlos pulled you close to him, taking the blanket from around his shoulders in the process and wrapping the thick soft fabric around the pair of you so that you’d both stay warms. He placed his arm around your shoulders as you nestled your head into the crook of his neck, the pair of you watched the stars together. He didn’t leave your side, despite how tired he was, he held you close to him and stared at the sky with you.

That was until he caught you drifting off to sleep, he snapped his head in your direction and grinned, “Come on, mi vida. Let’s get you to bed.” He whispered, using the nickname that he had heard his father calling his mother many times. He helped you back across the rooftops as you gripped his hand with one of yours whilst gripping the blanket with the other.

He let you share his bed that night, deeming the makeshift floor bed too uncomfortable. The pair of you fell into what was probably the most comfortable sleep that either of you had ever had.

You were pulled out of your memory when you heard somebody clear their throat beside you, you turned your head to see Victoria, you sighed before opening your mouth, “Can I help you?” You asked.

“You were horrible to me earlier. I’ve never been anything but good to you, why were you such a bitch?” She asked you.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “I was handing you a few home truths, Tori. It wasn’t like I told you something you didn’t already know. Carlos can’t stand you, he hates you. You’re nothing to him, you’re not his girlfriend, you’re not special to him, you are nothing. You know that, nothing! Get that through to your thick fucking skull, dumbass.” You growled, pushing yourself back off the wall.

“You’re just bitter that I have him and you don’t.” She snarled.

“Oh, you know what, Tori. I don’t fucking care! You’re welcome to each other. The game you’re playing doesn’t fucking bother me, I’m a grown ass woman and you’re a dumb sixteen year old trying to act like you’re more grown than you are. I’m eighteen, I’m an adult, you’re a child who has probably only just grown out of wearing a fucking training bra, so pardon me if I don’t feel threatened by you but quite frankly, why the fuck should I when you mean absolutely nothing to me?!” You snapped. You finally snapped.

“It’s no wonder nobody wants you around, it’s no wonder that Carlos threw you away and didn’t talk to you for almost six years, you’re just so angry all the fucking time. It’s you he can’t stand, (name). It’s you that he hates. It’s you that he doesn’t want around. When are you finally gonna get that into your thick skull?!” She snapped back.

You glanced back at the house, “Casita, if anybody tries to come outside, don’t let them.” You said, causing the bricks and tiles to move in reply to you. A smirk graced your features, “Thanks casa.” You grinned as the doors swung shut and you instantly threw a punch at the younger girl.

Before you knew it, you were in a full on fistfight with the younger girl, punches were being thrown back and forth. You were getting more hits in than her though, given that you had been fighting for years and she was still all sweetness and light.

“I may be fucking angry, but damn, you are a great punching bag and it’s definitely relieving my anger here, Tori, so thanks.” You snarled as you continued throwing punches.

Both of your faces were quickly becoming bloody and bruised and wounded.

You were soon hoisted off the younger girl, your arms and legs flailing around as you screamed to be let go. You glanced back, seeing that it was Pepa that had a hold of you as Félix held Victoria back. Your arms stopped moving, knowing that half the time Pepa picked people up when hugging them so clearly had immense strength, there was no way you were gonna win against Pepa. She wouldn’t put you down until she felt like it was safe to. Your arms dropped to your side in defeat as Félix handed Victoria an arepa and sent her off home.

“UNTIL NEXT TIME, CABRONA!” You yelled after her, shaking your fist slightly.

“Ay Dios (name), what are we gonna do with you?” The redhead asked as she placed you back firmly on the ground.

“Keep her away from Victoria, that’s what.” Félix chuckled as he shoved an arepa in your mouth.

Little did they know, that wouldn’t be an easy task and that things were only about to get a whole lot worse.

~ Hello my angels! So, here is chapter six. Yes, more drama to follow, eek! Anyways, lemme know what y’all think of this chap, angels! 😘 Idk if anyone even reads these little notes at the bottom anymore but as always, stay hydrated, make sure you’ve eaten today, remember you’re loved more than you’ll ever know and stay safe, lovelies! Mwah! 💖

#encanto #disney #disney encanto #camilosunshxne #carlos madrigal #encanto fic #disney fic #carlos madrigal x reader #carlos x reader #carlos my beloved #carlos madrigal fic #carlos encanto #encanto carlos #carlos madrigal x fem!reader #carlos x fem!reader #carlos madrigal supremacy #camilosunshxne writes

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

Text

Title: pretty eyes [short story] Pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn!reader [soulmate au; takes place eight years before the yuuji and sukuna fusion] Genre: josei, romance, fluff, comedy, and your normal tragic angst!

Summary: in which the right eye is mine and the left eye is yours and when we meet for the first time, you see your own eyes staring back at you. Warnings: language, blood, minor manga spoilers, mild ooc gojo and death

Notes: can we all just sit down admire satoru? Like the eyes man, the attitude omg... Ah im so sorry in advance if hes ooc here sksksk it is my first time to write about any jjk characters and I havent fully grasped them yet despite reading the manga anyways i wont be online next week and tomorrow so i decided to publish this ahead of time. ily all and again thank you for the love and support, it does mean a lot *bows down* see you all again when i’ve got time? jskskss i fucking hate college and online classes, satoru save me please soulmate au’s [not read in any particular order nor are they connected, they just share the same trope] Pretty eyes [gojo vers.] || lasting blues [toji vers]

tragic soulmate au series || taglist

“Pretty.” were the very first words you uttered in complete awe as you saw yourself in the mirror and no, this wasn’t directed to your physical appearance. It was directed to your left eye, the eye of your soulmate.

Contrasting to your normal boring color on the right, your soulmate’s eyes were ethereal and unreal. How could someone have such pretty eyes? It was completely surreal at that point that you refused to believe that someone with these eyes were actually human.

You placed one hand and gently caressed the left side of your face where the pretty eye rested, “You must be an angel.” you muttered, “Only angels have pretty eyes.”

Thus like every child you gave your soulmate a nickname, ‘pretty angel’ and every night before you slept, you’d wonder out loud how your pretty angel was doing, if they were nearby, or anything like that. You wonder what type of food they like, do they like to leave the window open for a cool wind or do they like their chocolate hot or iced.

Yet as you grew older, the pretty angel faded out into your thoughts. The pretty idea of soulmates and love disappeared like the story books you read as a child. The pretty blue eyes on your left is forgotten as life takes a toll on you.

They say death was inevitable, when your mother died in middle school, you watch as your father’s left eye turn to your mother’s color. You watched as he clenched her hand, like it was some last resort of plea. You watched him cry as he passed by the mirrors and you wondered, would it hurt like that too?

It baffles you how beautiful and cruel the soulmate system was.

How every time your father would stare at his own reflection, his left eye would be nothing but a reminder of your dead mother.

You let out a second meek cough in the quiet bookstore that night, the sounds of the car passing by were nothing but quiet noise to you as you immerse yourself in the literature book you were reading, your students would surely love this one.You let out another cough as you turn around to find a small space to read since standing for too long made you tired too quickly.

You’re too enchanted by the words of the author that you don’t even notice the rather tall man in front of you.

You look up, ready to give a quiet apology but stop short when you notice how ethereal the stranger looked. Albeit he wore a pair of weird Lennon shades at this time of night, he reminded you very much of an angel with his snow white hair.

You don’t even notice how your left eye is returning back to it’s normal color, the stranger does though and it surely was odd to see his eyes on a stranger.

“Well,” the stranger has a shit-eating grin decorating his handsome features, he definitely looked like trouble for sure, “This is unexpected.”

He lowers his shades and your eyes immediately widen as you suddenly cup the left side of your face, you’d recognize those unique eyes anywhere, after all, you had those on your left eye since you were born, “Y-You.” you muttered, the shock momentarily eating you up.

“Yeah, me.” He grins, loving the sudden attention, “Wow, I was expecting something like fireworks or flowers to appear.” He suddenly teased, bending down to your level.

Now that you notice it, he was very, very tall.

“I…” You blink, trying to gain your composure, “Wow…”

“Did I pass your expectations?” it’s been a few minutes since you started talking and all he has been doing is teasing you.

“You do look like an angel.” You complimented and his eyes widened at the rather out-of-place compliment, “Your eyes are very pretty, thanks for letting me borrow them for twenty-two years.”

Gojo Satoru thought he had the upper-hand, after all, you looked quite meek but when you said those compliments, he was sure that you were going to be the teasing one in this whole-soulmate thing.

So he tries to one up you.

“I’m Satoru Gojo but you can call me tonight.” He grinned, trying to tease you once again, the corny pick up line sounds suave but your blank expression says otherwise.

“I’m Y/N L/N and think I should call you in the morning, it is quite late right now and I still have classes at eight am.” You mumbled, looking down at your watch, “How about you just walk me home, then?”

“Okay.” Satoru immediately raises his hands, signaling that he was giving up, “First off, you should be more hyper aware that I may be a serial killer.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you a serial killer?” you repeat, “That would be awfully disappointing if my soulmate was one since I’d immediately give you up on the police. I’m not interested in being in a Bonnie and Clyde type of thing and I think it’s too early for me to die.”

“You’re very upfront about these sorts of things.”

“Well, you’re very teasing for someone who just met their soulmate a few minutes ago.” you shrug, “So, are you going to walk me home or not?”

“Ah, bossy too. I love the attitude already.”

“We’re spending our whole lives together. You might as well get used to it.”

You’d think the idea of soulmates would scare you after the firsthand experience with your parents but curiosity always got the best of you and the white-haired man proved that maybe it would be different this time.

Throughout the few months you’ve spent with him, You’ve noticed that Gojo Satoru and you may be alike in some ways but in most ways, he was different.

First, he was enigmatic. You’ve known the man for a couple of months now and you’ve been going out on dates but you don’t know much about him except that like you, he’s a teacher at a good school and he tends to be conceited when he talks about his personal skills as a teacher.

“...What are you doing?” Satoru asked, peeking from behind your shoulder as you type in the grades of your student for your class.

“I’m grading my students.” You muttered, it was after dinner at your place and he was lazing around your place, the sound of faint jazz music could be heard throughout your small space and the wafting smell of freshly baked brownies filled the room, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something since you're a teacher?”

Satoru quirks a brow as if you had said something odd then it seemed like realization had dawn upon him at that moment.

“Ah, I’m not doing much since my students are on break.”

“Didn’t you say that last time?”

Silence filled the room and Satoru breaks it off with his very famous ‘heh’ that made you inwardly roll your eyes and chunk the pillow that you’ve been hugging towards his direction, “Stop slacking off, you’re a teacher.” You scold him mildly, followed by a small cough.

“Ah, Y/N-chan. You’re so mean to me,” He frowned, handing you the mug filled with water, “...No fair.”

“You're a teacher and you’re slacking off.” You deadpanned, ignoring his sly ways of trying to get you in his arms, “How is that even fair?”

“My students can handle themselves so well that I don’t need to babysit them.” He hmphed, arms crossed and head held up high in a rather arrogant manner. You could only only scoff back a reply at his rather haughty attitude but you’ve gotten used to it to the point where you just roll your eyes.

“You’re a very bad teacher, Satoru.”

“Hey, I am considered one of the best and it’s an honor-”

You clicked your tongue and just pinched his cheek in reply to get him to stop drawling on about his achievements. You wondered if you dated a man child or something.

Second, despite his teasing nature and good looks, he’s a rather shy bean and has some insecurities about it too, maybe it was because there were moments where you couldn’t really understand your soulmate and his puzzling life. He didn’t tell and you didn’t want to pry because you technically both had your whole life to get around that subject.

Luckily, you seem to have found a remedy for moments like that.

“Satoru…” You called out to your soulmate who was staring at the nutrition content of the wafers on his hand, “Satoru!”

“Oh, sorry. What were you talking about?” he finally snapped out of his daze and turned to you who was standing there, hand on your hip. The crispy wafers on his hand are long forgotten.

Your soulmate is good looking, alright. If anyone were to pass by him they wouldn’t see the minor zilch of worry in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” You ask, walking closer to him, completely serious.

“...You aren’t going to leave me, right?”

You raise a brow at the sudden question, wasn’t he too young to have some mid-life crisis? Was this because of the soulmate movie you watched late last night about the soulmate leaving their other half to rebel against the system and because of his partner’s family?

“Why would I leave you?”

He blinks once, then twice, the only sound that could be heard was the familiar music playing throughout the grocery store, it was as if no one was there during the mid-day. Satoru proceeds to look away, “I don’t know. What if you realize that you don’t like me as your soulmate and you followed what the dude did in the movie?” he started to mumble, mouth pressed on a straight line.

“Ah, the whole rich in-laws.” you blinked, “Don’t tell me you’re a son of some huge clan in japan that’s loaded and I’m going to be a disgrace to your family name or something?”

It came out as a joke at first, it really did and you were going to laugh but when you notice the straight face he has on, you realize it was anything but a joke.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, Oh.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking that question then?”

“What?” He almost half-yelled, eyes wide behind his usual shades that he seemed to wear a lot, “That doesn’t make sense!”

“Neither does your question, Satoru.” You frowned, massaging your temples, “I should be the one asking you that, are you going to leave me?”

“Of course not.” He sputters out.

“Then there goes my answer too.” You replied, huffing out as you grab the sweet wafers on his hand to put into the cart, “You’re very weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“No, you are.”

“You seriously asked me if I’d leave you because of your rich family in the middle of the day.” You deadpanned, inching closer to him to the point where your lips are brushing against his.

“This is unfair.” He huffed, suddenly turning red, “You’re attacking me in broad daylight.”

“Oh dear.” Your beguiling eyes, enjoying his rather embarrassed state, “This isn’t attacking, Satoru.”

Then you closed the distance between you two, his eyes seemed to widen behind his shades at your forward approach, clearly you guys never did PDA. You took this as an opportunity to lick his lower lip so you could slip your tongue in and as he starts getting into it and placing his hand to cup your ass, you pull away with a big smile on your lips, “That’s attacking.” you grinned.

Satoru seemed to have regained his senses quickly after that rather heated public make-out session, he placed his hand on top of his mouth and feigned embarrassment, “My, My, I didn’t think you’d enjoy those types of things in public.” he was back to his normal teasing self.

Well, that seemed to have worked very well.

“Mhm,”

Yet unknown to you those thoughts still lingered in his head, it wasn’t just his family that he was worried about, it was also regarding his job as a jujutsu sorcerer something he has yet to mention, he’s not even sure if you’d believe him it’s a normal occurrence for people like him to die in this occupation and he’s scared that one day, you’ll see your left eye turning back to his eye color with no valid explanation.

Not only that but the amount of people who’d go after you to get to him, he clenched on the shopping cart tightly

“I’m tired.” You cut his thoughts short and Satoru turns to you, unlike him, you weren’t physically active so you tire easily, even joking around that you were a granny in a child’s body, “Can we sit down after this and get some gyudon?”

“Sure Y/N.” he grins, giving you a one-arm hug and kissing your temple.

Third, he’s terrible with kids, period, no questions asked.

Your eyes narrowed to slits as he brought in one of his students named Megumi, the boy is quiet and compared to your giant and teasing soulmate, he’s serious. In fact he was more serious than the tiny pinky of the white-haired man.

“...Are you kidnapping a third grader?”

“He’s one of my students.”

“You don’t even know the first thing of looking after kids.” You pointed out, “And didn’t you mention that you teach high school students?”

“Well,” he drawled on, “It’s kind of a long story but he’s technically a genius.”

You let out a stifling sigh, “You’re impossible.” you mutter, bending down to the small boy’s level, “Would you like something to eat in compensation for him annoying you?”

The boy nods mutely.

“I wasn’t annoying him!” He corrects.

“He looks very annoyed standing next to you.”

“That’s literally what he looks like!”

You roll your eyes in reply and turn to the young boy, handing him a pastry that you had brought earlier. You watched Megumi eat his pastry in front of the television that played some child-friendly show as you let out a soft cough and pour yourself some water

“Are you alright?” Satoru asks, resting his head on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” You replied, “Why’d you ask?”

“You’re looking quite pale these days.”

“Maybe it’s the allergy season, already.” you nonchalantly replied, taking another gulp of water, “You’re terrible with kids, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m a high school teacher, Y/N.”

This connects you to your fourth observation, he’s nonchalant and easy going but he harbors a rather deep worry for you to the point where you wonder if he was really your soulmate or your mother incarnate. Three years into the whole soulmate thing with him, you still couldn’t help but think that he’s doting nature was quite adorable.

You feel like you’re coming down with a cold these days, your head has been throbbing and your cough is worsening. Satoru’s eyes are filled with nothing but worry as he handed you some medication. Your soulmate was now a mother hen and if it were different circumstances, you’d laugh it off.

“We should go to the doctor.” He nagged you once again.

“I’m literally going to sleep it off.” You hoarsely replied, “I’ll be fine, Satoru.”

“You literally sound like you smoked a pack with your voice, are you sure?”

“I am.” You glared, “Don’t sleep-”

Before you could even finish what you were saying, he flops right next to you in the bed, “-I literally told you to not sleep next to me.” you scolded him.

“A mere cold won’t phase me.”

“I swear to god, Gojo Satoru. I’ll kick you out.” He ignores your ministrations and snuggles his head on your neck, his warm breath tickling it, “You’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

“Sadly.”

“Hey.”

“I’m kidding.” you let out a quiet chuckle, looking down at your soulmate and running your hands through his white hair, “I love you very much, you idiot.”

“Hard same.”

“Never mind, I take it back.” you giggle.

And after a rather short playful banter between you two, you find yourself sleeping and snuggling on his long limbs. You think all is well, you really do. That was until you wake up later at three am in the morning with a loud coughing fit. Satoru immediately sits upright and opens your nightlight but what he sees next, scares him more than the curses he has ever encountered.

Your sheets are now stained in blood from the coughing fit that had just happened and you're completely taken aback too, completely breathless.

“Y-Y/N…” He gulps down, quickly taking the sheets away from you, “Let’s go to the hospital now, please?”

“...L/N-san, have you been getting coughing fits before this?” the doctor asks, looking up from your chart. Satoru watches you shake your head as you clench the paws of his jacket, the doctor takes off his glasses, “How about coughs that don’t seem to go away? Getting tired too easily?”

Satoru doesn’t like where this was going, he doesn’t like where this was going at all.

“Um, just some dry coughs and I’ve always been an inactive person.” You quietly replied, contrasting to your usual bright and teasing demeanor, you looked too tired this morning and Satoru just hopes it’s because he dragged you out of bed at four am to get yourself checked asap.

“Y/N-san, has any of your family members been diagnosed with lung cancer?”

The whole room is silent and you could almost hear a pin drop, Satoru feels his knuckles suddenly turn white, “I recalled my okaasan died because of that.” You replied silently and the doctor nods feverishly.

“...Y/N-san...It pains me to say this but the reason you’ve been experiencing this is because of the tumors located in your lungs.” Satoru feels his heart drop when he hears those words, “We have to do further tests to confirm-”

“Do it.” Satoru cuts the old doctor off, his hands are visibly shaking already, he hopes that this was just a misdiagnosis, that this doctor was just a bad one or better yet whatever excuse his mind could make up at that moment, “Do all the tests needed for Y/N, please.”

Fifth, he’s very supportive towards you and your impulsive decisions. If he could join you in it, he would but you usually decide against it.

It’s another quiet night for you as you sit across from your soulmate at the dinner table. You’ve grown awfully thin and your hair was starting to fall off due to the chemoradiation, this day marked the third month since you found out that you have lung cancer just like your mother. Surgery was apparently too risky so the safest option right now was this treatment.

You don’t deny the anxiety eating you up every day, specifically the fear of death, you’re even more worried for Satoru since not only had he been paying for your treatment but he had opt to take care of you, saying that his job would be fine without him since you were going to get better soon anyways.

“Would you still love me if I shaved my hair?” You asked, your voice still quite hoarse.

“You kidding me? I’d still love you even if you turned into a roach.”

You immediately crinkle your nose in disgust, “That’s disgusting.”

“Honest reply.”

Truthfully, the man had been your rock these past three months. You knew how hard it was for him to be happy around you, how he had put on a brave front and remained positive saying that this was just going to be a rough couple of months and you’d be back in no time despite the bleak outlook.

It kept you sane amongst the tragedy.

“I wanna shave my hair.”

“Like right now?”

You nod, “Can we use your electric razor?”

“You want me.” he points to himself, “To cut your hair?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it.” You grinned.

And that’s how you ended up in your bathroom after dinner, Satoru’s shades on the side and his concentration directly on your scalp. You had literally told him that he just needed to do it the same way as he shaved his beard but he was still scared. Apparently, he had never shaved anyone’s hair before.

“...Okay, Y/N. Here goes…” He proclaimed, switching the razor on. As bits and pieces of your hair fall to the ground, you feel your cheeks getting wet and your shoulders tense, Satoru is quick to notice the switch of emotion and immediately turns the razor off before bending down in front of you, “Woah, woah… Y/N….”

“I-I…” Your lips are quivering as the tears fall faster when you see his pretty eyes staring back at yours, you try to let out a laugh but instead it comes out as a choke sob, “Sorry, this is stupid. I’m literally crying over fucking hair.”

“No, of course not…” He replies, enveloping you in a hug, “Of course not.”

Satoru feels you start to shake in his arms and he knows he should keep his emotions in check, he’s a sorcerer for crying out loud but seeing you break down for the first time in three months had him shaking too, you didn’t deserve all this, fuck, you didn’t deserve any of this at all!

“Would you like me to shave my hair so you’d feel a bit better?” he asks. After recovering from your breakdown, you had asked him to continue shaving your hair because you might as well be done with it.

“Please don’t.” You reply, wiping your tears away, “We’d look like eggs.”

“Cute eggs, you mean.” He corrects, teasing you and trying to cheer you up, this was all he could do and he hates it.

He really hates it.

What good was the title of being the strongest when he couldn’t save you from all of this?

Lastly, if you hadn’t highlighted it enough. He has pretty eyes, contrasting to your dull and boring ones, you always loved how different his eyes are. Sometimes you wondered why he dared to hide them behind his crappy and overused Lennon shades.

“Can I see them?”

Your room is dimly lit as Satoru sleeps next to you on the hospital bed, you were growing weaker and frailer by the day and you could see the toll it took on your soulmate. You were heavily reminded of your father who was sitting right next to your mother on her deathbed.

“See what?” He yawned.

“Your eyes.”

“You’re awfully in love with them, huh?”

“I’ve always been in love with them from the moment I saw it in the mirror.”

Silence envelopes the room with your statement and as requested, he takes the shades off and now you’re greeted by the most beautiful blue eyes that you love to look at in the reflection since you were a child, “Pretty.” You muttered, raising your frail hands slowly to cup his face, “Pretty eyes.”

Satoru takes in a deep breath as he places his hand on top of yours, the silence is heavy. You both know what’s about to come in the next few days, you’re lucky if you even last a night. Yet he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shuts the topic off quickly when you try to even raise it.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, staring at you, “Pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “I doubt it, I’m anything but pretty now.” your voice hoarse, making him lightly squeeze your hands, “Will you be bringing Megumi tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the brat said he saved enough money to get you your favorite pastry.”

“That’s good.” you blinked, “I’m tired.”

Satoru feels his shoulder tense at your words, they were so plain yet at the same time so heavy, “Should I call the doctor?” he asks. You shake your head and just snuggle on his chest.

“No,” You mumbled, inhaling his scent and basking on his presence, “I want your warmth next to me.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You know, you’ve always had prettier eyes.”

Yet you don’t reply and he feels your grip on his sweater lessen, he doesn’t even need to see his reflection to know that his left eye has returned back to your (e/c) ones.

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@airybnb ; @hcn421 ; @shinhiromi

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo x reader #saturo x y/n #jjk gojo #soulmate aus #pretty eyes

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Seven)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of erection, heated make out, marking, grinding, mentions of suicide:( (If this makes you uncomfortable pls skip), mentions of cheating, quick blowjob, swallowing,

Notes: sorry this chapter is shorter than the last! But we only have 2 chapters left guys! And they are long!!! Sorry in advance lol. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell

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

Jungkook runs his finger through your hair, his mouth hot on your neck as he leaves behind what feels like a million, slow kisses. You taste sweet and he’s reminded of the first time he got to do this with you and his heart swells at the memory. He feels you grind against him, making him impossibly harder as he grinds back. Your moans fill his ears and it sounds like a chorus of sweet, sweet music to him, he can’t help but grin into his kisses. Suddenly, the image of him kissing down your throat becomes blurry and the sound of your whines echo in the distance. He must be waking up.

Jungkook feels you hovering over him with shocked eyes and he can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into you. He can feel his head beginning to throb from the inevitable hang over that wishes to visit and he raises a hand over it. You continue to look down at him and that’s when he notices it. Them. The hickeys that spread across your skin and he goes absolutely pale.

He looks back at you with wide eyes but he can’t help but feel pride bloom all throughout his body as he looks at how he has marked you but those petals quickly shrivel up when he realizes how badly he must have messed up.

“Oh fuck.” He says under his breath.

“Yeah. ‘Oh fuck’” you repeat back.

Jungkook lifts himself up, leaning on his arms as he takes another look at the bruises that cover your skin. He releases a shaky breath contemplating what to say.

“Drunk.” His eyes slide to the side, “We were really…drunk.”

You narrow your eyes for a split second then look at him with ease,

“Yeah…right…drunk.” You quickly agree.

Jungkook and you share a moment of a silence, admiring one another’s work on the other. You hesitantly reach out, your fingers coming in contact with the side of his neck, brushing against his soft skin.

“This ones huge…I’m sorry.” You say, not sounding entirely sorry. A slight smirk graces your features.

“Ha, you don’t look very sorry.” Jungkook grabs a hold of your hand, “Plus, you don’t even want to see what I did to you.”

You retreat your hand back to touch your own skin, you shuffle out of the sheets and stand from the bed. You walk towards the little mirror over by Jungkook’s closet and take a look.

You audibly gasp, the purple marks that spread across your neck and collarbone are ones for the books.

“What the hell Jeon! How am I supposed to walk out of here today! Everyone’s going to see this!” you gesture towards yourself. “Oh my god.” You turn back to look in the mirror. “This is horrible.”

Jungkook leaves the bed to join you at the mirror,

“Holy shit.” He looks at himself, “I’m not any better!” he throws his hands up but he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing! You watch in disbelief as he chuckles the fucking day away.

You watch him and you can’t help but start to laugh too. This is just so ridiculous.

“Wait wait…” Jungkook calms down, suddenly becoming serious. “We didn’t do anything else…right?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Shouldn’t you also remember?”

“You’re the girl! Can’t you like tell…if we…” He motions his hands between your bodies.

“Oh my god. No, we didn’t do anything else. Do you really not remember everything?” you ask with a frown.

“I feel like I do…but I was just being you know, sure.”

Jungkook wishes he could remember everything in great detail but the reality is he was really drunk and some moments are hazier than others. Which is a fucking shame because he wants to remember the first moment you caressed his skin to his lips on yours.

“Do you remember everything?”

“I remember enough.” You admit.

You were drunk, yes. But the memory of you and Jungkook is almost crystal clear and fresh in your mind.

“Bottom line is…we were really drunk and drunk people do stuff like that all the time.” Your hands go to your hips, “I mean, I’ve literally made out with Trina before. Don’t feel special.” You wink, your tone is light and teasing and Jungkook finds you amusing.

“Just two drunk idiots.” Jungkook grins. “So no acting weird.”

“I won’t be weird, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.” He chuckles.

“I’m serious Jungkook, we can be cool about this…” you give him a smile, “It’s not like we haven’t—”

“Stop…” Jungkook lifts his hand up, “I get it.” He chuckles awkwardly.

Your small smile fades, your heart pinches. He never wants to talk about it, did he hate it that much?

“Right…” You begin walking closer towards him and he steps back, your heart pinching once again. “Well, lend me a fucking turtle neck or something so I can get outta here.”

Jungkook smirks down at you as he walks to his closet.

“Fine. Hopefully I have two…I have a black and a white one right?” he asks you from inside his closet.

“Shit, I think I have your white one at my place…”

“I don’t think Nick owns any…”

“Why do you need one? Just stay home today.”

“I’m supposed to meet Vanessa later…”

Your heart doesn’t just pinch this time, it sinks. Deep down into your lower belly until its falling to the ground.

“Oh.”

“I’ll find a scarf or some shit.”

“I’ll bring you your white one, don’t worry.”

“Really? Thanks y/n.” Jungkook walks out of his closet smiling at you, his black turtle neck draped over his arm. “Here.” He hands it over to you.

“Turn around.”

Jungkook raises a brow at you until realization hits him.

“Okay.” He whispers out.

You quickly change into the long sleeve shirt and let Jungkook know he can turn back around.

“I feel like I should make you breakfast or something…” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, standing here awkwardly.

“Really Jungkook?” you laugh out, “And what would you make me?”

“I think Nick has some toaster waffles.” Jungkook offers with a grin.

“I’m good. I’m gonna head out but I will be back with your shirt!”

“Sounds good, I’ll walk you out.”

You two nod at one another, exiting the bedroom and walking towards the front door. You stop to say goodbye and Jungkook steps into your space, wrapping his arms around you.

“See you in a bit.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” You pull back and smile at him. “See you in a bit.”

~~~~~

“Why the fuck are you wearing a black turtle neck in the middle of August?”

It’s Trina, if you haven’t guessed. It’s the first thing you hear when you step into your apartment, she is over to hang with Holly you’re assuming.

“I was a bit chilly.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a strained smile.

“Take it off.” Trina commands.

“Trina…” Holly warns softly, she’s got her hand on Trina’s shoulder and you can’t help but giggle.

“Wait, your date was last night, right? With this ‘Min Yoongi’? Ooooh, did things go well?” Trina whistles out.

“It wasn’t a date, I already told you…” you whine as you walk into the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“But it did go well! I had a really nice time.” You admit softly, smiling at the memory of your ‘thank you outing’. “He’s so cool and so sweet.” Your eyes light up, “He owns the record shop a few shops away from the bakery!”

“Owns it? Like it’s his?” Holly asks, she shares a pleased smile with Trina.

“Yes, like it’s his.”

“He sounds like a man. Marry him.” Trina gives you an aggresive thumbs up.

“Chill dude.” You laugh. “I think he and I could become really good friends…and…”

“And?”

“Well, you never know.” Your eyes shift to the side as you smirk. “The world is full of mystery.”

Trina smiles brightly, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

“I’m saying that there’s not not a chance…”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Trina lifts up Holly’s hand and high fives herself with it. “Whatever isn’t Jungkook.” She finishes with a grin and you feel your whole body go stiff.

“Trina…” you frown, “I really don’t like when you say stuff like that. Jungkook is a good person. He just…he messed up, yes. But he’s trying.”

“He hurt you.” Trina’s tone goes serious. “How could you forgive him for that?”

“I’m trying too. But I am able to try because I know him…he wouldn’t just hurt me without him having his own reasons…and I love him, T. Like as friends, of course but also…”

“I know.” Trina goes soft, “I know.”

Holly clasps her hands together, “And that’s that! How about we make some food and chit chat some more over some mimosas!”

“I love that idea.” You say.

“But seriously girl, please go change out of that turtle neck…you’re making me sweat just looking at you.” Trina says.

Right, the turtle neck. You told Jungkook you would drop off his white one…well, you gotta find it first.

“Okay, but I have to run an errand first then we can hang.”

“An errand?” Both girls look at you quizzically.

“Don’t worry about it.” Great, now you sound like Jungkook.

~~~~~

Within the hour you are quickly dropping off Jungkook’s shirt off at his place and going back to yours. He answered the door in nothing but his towel again and you tried so hard not to drool. You recall the night before when your fingers were dragging down his chest and his toned stomach. You felt every ab beneath your fingertips. Fuck, that felt good. You’re home now, you shake your head trying to rid yourself of thoughts of Jungkook’s body. But with a body like that? It’s so so hard. Just like how he was…STOP. You shake off these thoughts and try to pay attention to what Holly is saying.

“—And then I turned it in anyway and still got an A!”

“That’s amazing Holly.” You say, trying to act like you weren’t just having impure thoughts.

“Yeah, you totally kick ass.” Trina says.

You girls are a few mimosas in, you feel the champagne starting to work its wonderful magic on you but unfortunately it is making you start to sweat. You want to take off this damn turtleneck.

“I’ll be right back.” You say quickly before retreating to your bedroom. You find a baggy t-shirt and slip it on. This feels much better! But god damn. These marks on your skin are something else. You rush to the bathroom and try to cover some with makeup but it’s hardly helping. Fuck.

“Welp, maybe they won’t notice.” You whisper to yourself.

You walk back out into the living room and you notice both Holly and Trina’s eyes go comically wide.

“Wow, that date did go better than you thought!” Trina starts whooping and hollering.

“Wow y/n.” Holly really does look shocked.

Okay, so maybe they did notice. You feel so self conscious all of the sudden, your hands flying up to your neck to cover yourself.

“It’s—It’s not what it looks like.” You stammer out.

“It looks like this Yoongi guy is really into marking!” Trina yells out with a grin.

“Yoongi is really into marking…” Holly eyes you with horror in her eyes.

“Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!” Trina begins chanting, she looks over at Holly and lightly taps her thigh to get her to start chanting the name as well.

“Guys…” You whine into your hands, “It wasn’t Yoongi.” You must be admitting that because you’ve had a few mimosas.

Silence. The room falls undeniably quiet.

“Wait what?” Trina asks, her wide grin beginning to fade.

“Did you meet with someone else last night?” Holly begins to pry.

“Did you go to a bar or something and meet a rando?”

“Did you bump into someone on the street?”

“Did you call up and old boyfriend? An old hookup?”

“Guys!” You yell out, “I met up with Jungkook last night!”

Once again, the room goes silent.

“You what?” Trina asks plainly, “What does that have to do with the hickeys on your neck?”

“Really Trina?” your head falls into your hands, “We kind of…”

“You guys fucked? Really?” Trina’s serious tone is back.

“No! We just got really drunk and made out! That’s it!”

“But is that really it for you?” To your surprise, it’s Holly who asks this.

“It’s fine. We were just drunk. We decided not to be weird about it. And we won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Trina asks, her voice gone soft.

“Because I will text him in a few days, he’s going to text back. Or I’ll call and he will answer like normal. I’ll ask to hang out or something and we will just be two friends who hang. It will go just like that!”

Except it doesn’t go like that at all. A few days pass and you decided to text Jungkook in the morning after you woke up. You don’t expect to hear back from him for a couple of hours since he will probably sleep in. But hours and hours go by and it’s the afternoon now and you still haven’t heard from him.

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” You click the end button on your phone again for like, the 6thtime. Why isn’t Jungkook answering? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, you know you remember him saying he had today off for some reason so what is he up to? Even if he was with Vanessa, would he really ignore you like this? 6 calls in a row?

You decide to try Jimin, maybe they’re together. You look him up in your ‘Favorites’ and click clack away to calling him. After several rings the boy finally answers,

“Hey.” He says somewhat out of breath, “I’m working, what’s up?”

“Hey it’s nothing really…” you begin, “But have you heard from Jungkook…? I can’t get a hold of him…”

“Huh? No? Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, busy babe.” You can hear Jimin directing some poor child of his wrong moves on the other side of the phone.

“Look, I gotta go. But just try again in a little while, okay?”

“Can you try calling him for me?”

“Huh? Uh, sure. I’ll let you know later. Love you, bye.” Jimin hangs up and you’re left with your phone to your ear, talking to no one.

It’s Wednesday evening now, you and Holly are sharing a pie while watching some weird show on Netflix that Holly insists is good. You’re three episodes in and you’re starting to wonder when the ‘good’ part happens. It’s mostly just been weird but Holly seems invested in it. You’re trying to keep your mind busy, the thought of Jungkook making you feel antsy. You just wanted to call and see if he wanted to chill together…to prove things aren’t going to be weird between you two. Is he really going to be so fucking immature? Big deal, you made out. But to go this far to ignore you? You can’t help but feel so fucking anxious. He won’t ghost you again right?

You mindlessly stick your fork in the pie repeatedly when you feel your phone buzz. Thank God, some sort of reason to look away from this show, you think.

Jimin 6:22pm

Hey, I got a hold of Jungkook…

What the hell? So he answered to Jimin?!

Jimin 6:22pm

It’s probably best to let him be today babe, today is…not a good day

You click off your phone and throw it on the cushion to your side because what the hell does that mean? Not a good day? If he’s not having a good day then shouldn’t he like, lean on you? Wait, you’re asking for too much right? You mean, you’re the one who set boundaries. But if he’s having a bad day why ignore you? You throw the fork in the pie and set it next to Holly, she looks at you mortified that you would just throw your fucking fork. You stand to your feet and start heading to your room.

“Uh, where are you going? Things are just getting good.” Holly whines.

“I’ll be back in a little while Hol, just gotta do something real quick.” You call out from behind you, entering your room to change into some clean clothes.

Once you’re ready you grab your purse and your keys and head towards the front door, and out to your car.

It’s a really quick drive to Jungkook’s apartment, he lives so close to you it’s ridiculous. He couldn’t find an apartment that was further away from his old one? Well, still…you’re grateful it’s a short drive. You wonder how you’ll confront Jungkook. He isn’t the best at opening up so you have to go about this strategically. But knowing you, you’ll be anything but strategic. It’s just with Jungkook you really have to force it out of him—whatever it is. Even then you may get nothing.

You find a parking spot a little a ways from the building, it’s a nice refreshing two minute walk to get inside to find and ride the elevator. You remember riding this elevator with nick and oh god, cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. Speak of the devil, he’s who answers the front door after your insistent knocking.

“Oh hey y/n. What’s up?” Nick’s eyes dart from you to the rest of the hallway. “Is it just you?” he asks, “Jungkook isn’t here…”

“Can I wait inside until he gets home?” you blurt out.

“Uh, sure…” Nick opens the door wider for you to enter. You breeze past him, taking off your shoes at the entrance and make your way to the couch. Damn, you are a woman on a mission.

“Can I get you some water?” Nick offers as he closes the door.

“Sure.”

Nick comes into the living room with a glass full of water and you couldn’t be more grateful. You didn’t even realize how dry your mouth has gotten, the anticipation of Jungkook’s arrival making you nervous.

“Do you know where he went?” you take the glass from Nick and gulp down like half the glass. “He hasn’t answered me all day.”

“Wait, he doesn’t know you’re here?” Nick asks in panicked surprise. “Should you really be here? He might be with Vanessa or like, coming back with her…”

“It’s fine. I’m waiting, is that okay?” you nibble on your lips, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, I guess.” Nick shrugs, “I’ll be in my room if that’s okay? You can watch whatever on TV or like, whatever.” He smiles at you, gesturing towards the TV.

“I’ll be fine Nick.” You smile back.

More than an hour passes, a god damn miserable hour of you sitting on Jungkook and Nicks couch when you finally hear the front door being unlocked. Jungkook.

You straighten up when you hear the door beginning to open, the soft creak sounding a million times louder in your ears.

Jungkook walks through and you notice he is alone, and you sigh in relief. His shoulders are slumped and his head hangs low as he takes his shoes off and you immediately sink in your spot. What’s with him? So, you stand to your feet and clear your throat and he doesn’t even flinch. He just continues walking inside, finding his way into the kitchen. You watch as he opens up a cabinet and reaches for a glass, next he’s fishing the fridge for some fresh water and filling up his cup. He takes a few sips of his water before his dark eyes find you.

“What are you doing here?” his low voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“You went ghost on me today…I was worried.” You leave the living room to walk into the kitchen as well.

“I…” he begins as he sets the glass on the counter. “I didn’t ghost you.”

“How could I be so sure?” you step closer to him, “How come you answered Jimin but not me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words, like a deer caught in headlights. He blinks at you repeatedly until he tries forming words.

“It’s nothing personal.” He settles for. “Can we talk tomorrow, y/n?”

“Where did you go today?” God, why do you sound like some weird, possessive girlfriend? You cringe at your own words.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jungkook’s eyes darken again, his voice low.

“It matters to me.”

Jungkook looks down at the floor and you notice him take a few deep breaths, like he is struggling to find a steady one.

“Talk to me, Jungkook.” You reach out to him, your fingers finding his and he flinches at your touch. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“I….” Jungkook’s voice cracks and you wish you could bring him in to hug you but you don’t. You just let him continue.

“I…have nothing to say.”

Oh. Of course. Of fucking course. Of course Jungkook chooses to stay silent. Of course he chooses not to talk to you.

“Is it Vanessa?” you finally find the courage to ask, “Did you two break—”

“No, we’re fine.” He cuts in. Jungkook frees himself from your hand and looks up at you with a strained smile, “I’m fine, y/n.”

Now, you shouldn’t feel upset. Or angry. But you do, you fucking do. It’s been almost 4 years of this same bullshit where he cannot open up to you and its starting to feel insulting.

“You’re…” you step closer to him again but he takes a step back until he’s backed into the counter. “You aren’t fine. Please talk to me, Jungkook.” You try to say calmly but you think the rage is a little evident in your voice.

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Is it because I’m a girl?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, not knowing what you mean by that. Yeah, that was a stupid thing to assume but you aren’t smart right now.

“You can’t confide in girls because you have trust issues? You know, because of your mom…how she left you…”

“Stop.”

“That’s it right?” You volume increases as your anger shows, “Are you fucking serious? When have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me? When have I ever fucking left you?”

“Shut up.”

“No! And yeah your mom left you so you like, don’t trust girls I guess but god damn, Jungkook maybe it’s time to get over—”

“I said shut up!” Jungkook’s voice rises to a volume you have never experienced with him before.

“Have you tried looking for her?” you continue to speak, not realizing you are making everything worse.

“I know where she is.” He states, his nostrils flaring.

You flail your arms around, “Then go fucking talk to her.”

Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, his shoulders to his ears and his fists balled up at his sides. He’s quiet. Too quiet. His breaths are beyond shaky and you finally notice it.

Jungkook’s eyes are glossed over and you think you may have gone too far. His lip begins trembling and he tries to speak but no words come out. He struggles to speak to you and it makes you blink at him like an idiot. Why can’t he speak?

“Jung—”

Jungkook lifts a hand up to stop you from talking any further. He inhales sharp breaths and releases shaky ones. His eyes are full of tears but none fall. He stares down at the ground just trying to do something as easy as breathing, but he falls short.

“Jung—”

“Please.” He croaks out. Jungkook walks to the couch and sits down, his head falling into his hands and you aren’t entirely sure at first but after a few moments you really realize…he is softly and quietly crying. Your Jungkook who never cries in front of anyone is sitting on his living room couch crying. You’re speechless. You also don’t know what to do. Do you try to comfort him? Do you leave him alone? But how could you leave him alone when he sits on his fucking living room couch sniffling away?

You hesitantly walk towards the sofa and take a seat next to him. He doesn’t lift his head to look at you, just continues crying into his hands. You don’t have to think about it, you reach your hand to rub soothing circles on his back and start whispering words of comfort in his ear.

Several moments pass when Jungkook finally lifts his head from his hands, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Mom…” he clears his throat. “Mom didn’t just leave us. She left everything. She left me.”

“I know Jungkook…I’m sorry… I just lashed out on you, you can heal at your own pace and if she wants to see you again, she will.” You continue to rub his back.

“No, you don’t get it.” Jungkook murmurs. “Mom was hurting a lot. You know?” he begins to get choked up, his throat burning.

“Dad cheated, yes. But he was also neglectful of her and she was in a lot of pain,” he sniffs repeatedly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“She felt like she had no one, not even me.” Jungkook face scrunches up as he resists more tears.

“She couldn’t even rely on me.”

Fuck. You know where this is going. It is all starting to make sense.

“Mom killed herself when I was 16.” Jungkook finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was too afraid to say it out loud. Like it made it more real.

“Dad didn’t take it well…he started drinking and I rarely saw him around…I had to take care of myself.” Jungkook finally lets the tears fall.

“I hated him. I still do.” Jungkook clenches his jaw.

You sit on the couch unable to comprehend what Jungkook has gone through. You feel like the biggest bitch alive. You forced your best friend to reopen his wounds in front of you and you had the audacity to pour salt in them.

“Jungkook I’m so—”

“Forget it.” He’s quick to cut you off. You stare at him with wide eyes, your own tears staining your cheeks.

“Please leave me alone for a while.” He whispers and immediately you stop him from rising from the couch.

“No!” you pull him back down. He doesn’t even resist, he falls back to your side and you lead his head to rest on your beating chest.

“I’m here for you, Jungkook.”

And that’s it. That’s what it took for Jungkook to scrunch and twist his face until more tears begin flowing out of his swollen eyes. He cries into your shirt, wetting the material.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pat his head, your fingers weaving through his dark locks.

Jungkook cries like this for several minutes, until he’s wiping away his tears and snot with his shirt sleeve. He rises from your chest and looks at you with a painful expression.

“Today is mom’s birthday.” He admits.

Fuck.

“I went to her grave today…” he sniffles, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. It’s just…” he starts crying again, “Saying it out loud. Makes it real, don’t you think?” His face is swollen and puffy from his tears and you can’t stop your own tears from sliding down your cheeks.

“Jungkook, I’m so, so sorry.” You feel awful. You can’t even fathom what he has gone through…

“It’s okay, this was bound to happen eventually right?” he laughs awkwardly, snot still dripping from his nose.

“I shouldn’t have forced it out of you…God, I am so sorry.”

“I…” Jungkook’s eyes refill with tears as he tries to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I really am. I tried so many times but I just couldn’t say it out loud. I just couldn’t.” The tears fall down his face once again, “I tried.” He begins to cry harder. “I really tried y/n.”

You heart breaks. This is a sight you never want to see again but if anyone has to see it you want it to be you.

“Baby…” you whisper. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“You’d never leave me…right?” Jungkook chokes on his words as he speaks. “I couldn’t handle it.”

You shut your eyes as you think about what Jungkook has gone through. You think about why he’s been so closed off and why he has troubles with people sometimes—especially girls.

“I wouldn’t ever leave you.” You say in promise. “You’re too important to me.”

Jungkook’s face falls back into your chest, he cries into your shirt for several more minutes as you rub his back and play with his hair.

“Wasn’t I important to mom too?” You hear him whisper.

Your heart breaks even more.

“Of course you were, Jungkook.” You try to save, “I know she must have loved you a lot.”

“Then why?”

“She must of thought you were going to be strong enough without her…” Your fingers thread through his hair again, “And you are. But you know, you aren’t completely without her…” Your hand goes to his chest, over his beating heart.

“She’s here too, with you.”

And with that, Jungkook sobs harder. Like, it’s the first time he’s cried over this. And you wonder if it is. He’s gripping on to your shirt so tightly as he releases intense sob after the other. Your heart continues to fucking break.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

It’s been quiet the last 30 minutes, neither you nor Jungkook have spoken. He’s not even crying anymore, just lightly sniffling every now and then. You wonder if he has fallen asleep. You wouldn’t be surprised, all that crying will take out all the energy out of a person…

You lean your head down to get a look at Jungkook’s peaceful face…he is sleeping. You feel yourself relax as you continue to play with his hair. He needs the rest, you think.

You feel your own eye lids getting heavy and you let yourself fall asleep as well. Jungkook snuggles deeper into your side, his face nuzzling in your chest and you hold him tighter. You two sleep like this for many hours until you’re being woken up at the sound of the blender going.

The living room is lit up with sunlight and your eyes blink lazily. You realize Jungkook isn’t sleeping with you anymore and you start to panic. Where did he go? Then the blender goes off again and you decide to stand from the couch, even though your body feels so heavy.

Jungkook is in the kitchen when you walk over, he’s got his back turned to you and you creep up behind him.

“Boo.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

“When will you realize that will never work on me?” Jungkook lightly chuckles, “Sorry to wake you up. I figure I could make us some fruit smoothies.” He turns around in your hold. You eye him up and notice how puffy his eyes are and you feel your heart drop.

“Fruit smoothie sounds delicious.” You squeeze him tighter and Jungkook laughs a wonderful laugh. It’s loud and full and filled with joy.

“Hug me back.”

Jungkook smiles down at you and circles his arms around your waist, “Sorry, sorry.”

You smile back up at him and lean your head on his body, he feels so warm it could melt you.

“About last night…” Jungkook begins pulling away from you, “I’m sorry I kind of…”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You cut in. “It’s my fault.”

“No y/n…I’m glad things happened the way they did. I actually feel so much better.” He admits, “Lighter, even.”

“Oh? Well, good. But I am still so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay baby.” He goes back in to hug you tighter. You feel his strong arms hold on to you and you want to stay like this forever. You would if you could. But—

“Shit. What time is it?” You step back from him, digging in your pocket for your phone. “Holy hell, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Then get going. I’ll text you later?” Jungkook asks with hope filling his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smile.

~~~~~~

Work was lame as usual, nothing eventful happened. Yoongi must have been too busy at the shop today since he didn’t come in for cookies. You decide you will go see him at the record shop tomorrow but for now…you’re dealing with something else—someone else.

“Oh? You thought Trina wouldn’t tell me?” It’s Jimin. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed with a popsicle between his lips. “Huh Miss Hickeys?”

“Jimin.” You drag his name out, “It’s not a big deal!” you throw your hands up in exasperation. “We were just really drunk and it didn’t mean anything. Just two drunk idiots.”

“Idiots, for sure.” Jimin sucks on the tip of the popsicle while he speaks.

“Seriously, it isn’t a big deal. We’re both over it.”

“Are you? You like him and he…fuck, this is getting so ridiculous. Promise me, just promise me…you will tell him the truth? You might be sur—”

“Jimin, stop.”

Jimin huffs out a deep, long breath and rolls his eyes at you.

“No.” he says matter of fact. “I won’t stop until you two talk.”

“Anyway there’s something more important we need to talk about…” you begin, “He told me about his mom.”

Jimin’s expression goes from shocked to guilty. He takes a few moments to finish the popsicle, biting the last inch or two and throwing the stick in the trashcan.

“I know. He told me.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been wanting to tell you for a long time y/n…but he just—”

“I know. It must have been really hard for him…all this time…”

“Yeah.” Jimin bows his head, “Me and Tae are the only ones who know because we were friends with him when it happened. That’s the only reason why or else I’m not sure anyone would know.”

“Is that…is that Jungkook’s secret? That you three…”

Jimin’s eyes expand as he realizes what you are talking about.

“N-No.” He admits softly, “That’s something else. That’s something Jungkook will definitely have to tell you on his own and trust me if you guys just talked…”

You tilt your head in confusion. What’s the correlation?

“Anyway, Jimin has Jungkook ever cried to you? About it all?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“He didn’t even cry at the funeral y/n.”

Fuck. You had a feeling. But knowing for sure is a whole other thing. The way Jungkook broke down in front of you felt like it was his first time and maybe it was and that makes your heart ache.

“Did he…cry? In front of you?” Jimin asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

“Oh… he must really trust you.”

You only nod your head in response.

“If you guys just learned to communicate better…I’m really rooting for you two.”

Your heart swells at Jimin’s little confession and you nod your head again, this time with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Thanks Jimin.” Finally, you feel supported. And it makes you breathe just a little easier.

“I know things haven’t always been easy with you two ever since the Tae thing…but honestly this goes back even further. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. We…I don’t know what’s with us.” You chuckle bitterly.

“I do. And I am going to force you two to talk one of these days. I swear on it. I will give you guys some time but damn babe, this is just…” Jimin releases a long breath. “Just don’t give up, okay?”

“Can’t you just tell me?” you don’t mean to sound like you are begging but you kind of do.

“No. It’s truly truly not my place.”

“I can’t just assume what you are talking about, you know? I can’t hope for the best then get crushed. That’s too scary, Jimin.”

“I understand babe.” Jimin scoots closer to you until he’s within arms-reach and caresses your calve. “Just talk to him, please.”

“Too scary.”

“One of these days one of you will have the courage.”

~~~~~~

“And what could be in this little baggy of yours?” Yoongi grins, showing his wonderful gummy smile.

“I brought you 2 cookies Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” You shake the little bag in front of his face in a teasing manner and he chuckles.

“What did I do to deserve your kindness?” He takes the baggy from you and inspects both cookies. “You decided not to be bratty today?” he questions with a smile. “These cookies are perfect.”

You decided to visit the record shop today, on this fine afternoon. It’s one of those days where it’s cloudy and looks like it could rain but it never does. You love days like that.

“This place looks so nice!” you say, bobbing your head around to get a proper look.

“There’s a section where you can sit and drink coffee…it’s not much but its cozy. Wanna check it out?” Yoongi offers, gesturing towards the other side of the shop.

“Yeah.” You say, “Lead the way.”

He guides you to the other side of the shop next to a window. There’s a table for two and he’s right—it is cozy looking.

You sit down and wait for Yoongi as he fetches two coffees, which you are so excited about since you have a fucking addiction.

He sets a cup down in front of you and takes his seat.

“So any new happy moments in life? Anything new to be grateful for?”

“I—”

“That’s a trick question,” Yoongi’s eyes go small as he smiles widely, “There’s always new moments to be grateful for.”

You can’t help but laugh, you bring the steaming hot coffee to your mouth and you blow on the liquid multiple times before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip.

“Yes I guess so.” You smile.

“And what are they?”

“I’m grateful the sun is hiding today, I like the clouds a lot.”

“I love that.” Yoongi takes a sip of his own coffee. “What else?”

“I’m happy you brought me coffee.”

“I’m glad I somehow made it on your list of things.”

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m grateful my A.C is working again!” he laughs, “It was actually broken for a couple days and I had like 5 fans plugged in around the place. I don’t think anyone wanted to come in here.”

“Oh no! Well, I’m glad it’s working!”

“How are things with your friend Jungkook? You guys were complicated last time I checked.”

You raise your brows in surprise that Yoongi would bring up Jungkook. But somehow you also aren’t surprised, it seems Yoongi takes a genuine interest in your life.

“We’re actually doing okay…” You bring the coffee back to your lips, taking another sip when—

“Have you told him your feelings yet?” Yoongi casually takes a gulp of coffee as you choke on yours.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry…was that too forward?” Yoongi sets his cup down. “To be fair, you both are very obvious.

“What do you means us ‘both’?” You grab a napkin and wipe your chin where coffee dribbled.

“He clearly likes you too.” Yoongi stares at you as you stare back with a blank expression, and he laughs. “You two remind me of myself and someone I used to know.”

“Used to?”

“We were never on the same page…too many missed opportunities that it ruined anything we could have had.” Yoongi frowns for a split second before breaking out into a soft, gummy smile. “I’d hate to see that happen to you.”

“Yoongi—”

“But if it does then better for me?” he whispers with a smile in his voice.

“What do you mean by—”

“Oh. But he has a girlfriend, right?” Yoongi cuts you off with his question.

“Not exactly but basically…”

Vanessa. Your stomach drops at the mention of her and you hate it. Why does she have to have such a strong affect on you? Why does she even have to exist? You mean, she can exist but maybe not in your life—or Jungkook’s life.

Suddenly, the doors bell goes off with a ding and Yoongi is smiling brightly at whoever just walked in. You continue to sip your coffee not giving it much mind.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi shouts out, standing from his chair to wave over his friend.

Wait, Taehyung? He can’t mean the same Taehyung—

“y/n?”

Oh shit. You turn around in your seat and your face falls when you see him. Even on this cloudy day his skin is so golden like the sun is shining down on him, he looks bright and beautiful. As usual.

“Hi Taehyung.” You wave awkwardly. He can immediately tell how uncomfortable you are, his face deepening into a frown.

“I can come by later…” he offers to you.

“No, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” You try smiling but it’s quite tense.

Yoongi looks between you two and he points between your bodies.

“You two know each other?”

“We went to school together, had mutual friends blah blah blah.” You say.

Taehyung only agrees with the nod of his head. Yoongi blinks at your two and opens his mouth to say ‘Ah.’ And heads to the back for another cup of coffee.

“How have you been y/n?” Taehyung asks awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he stands here.

“Pretty good, I think.”

“You think?” he chuckles. “Hey, sorry if my texts bother you…”

“They don’t.” you say honestly. “Sorry I don’t always reply.”

“It’s okay, I understand. How’s…Jungkook?” Taehyung eyes shoot down to the floor. “He doesn’t answer my texts either. It really hurts to see years of friendship go down the drain…”

“He’s mad at you Tae,” You begin, “But I think one of these days he will chill out.” You laugh and this makes Taehyung ease up.

“He really fucking loves you.”

“Well we are best friends… sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“We kind of stopped talking for a little while but we’re back to being friends.” You try explaining but Yoongi is walking back in with a cup of coffee in hand. He hands it to Taehyung, which he accepts gratefully.

“You’re here for that new Jazz mix record, right? I have it behind the counter for you.” Yoongi says to Taehyung and Taehyung only gives him a thumbs up. He eyes you curiously, wondering what the hell happened between you and Jungkook.

“I have to get back to work boys!” You stand from the table, “Thanks for the coffee Yoongs”

Yoongi smiles at the new nickname.

“And maybe I’ll see you around, Tae?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung gives you his signature boxy grins and you feel like maybe things all around are getting better. Just maybe.

~~~~~

Jungkook has his hands knotted in Vanessa’s hair as she chokes on his cock, her lips wrapped around it fully.

“Fuck.” Jungkook whines out, “I’m so close.”

Vanessa only moans in response, she continues to bob her head up and down on his dick making his orgasm approach quickly.

“Gonna come, gonna come.”

And he does, he comes down her throat and she swallows it all perfectly. Only a drop or two left behind on her lips which she quickly wipes away with her fingers.

Vanessa stands to her feet and Jungkook pulls her in for a quick kiss.

“That was good…” he says, somewhat out of breath.

“Glad.” She says smoothly, going in for another kiss. This time she lingers, her lips lasting for a moment longer on his.

Vanessa’s fingers brush against his neck, she traces the outline of one last bruise left on the side below his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she smiles coyly. “You two sure are weird.” She says flatly.

“Vanessa…”

“It’s fine. I know you know I still see him. It’s not like we agreed to be exclusive.” She taps her skinny fingers on his chest.

“But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?”

“You aren’t trying very hard, are you?” the amusement in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook.

“He cheated on you, Vanessa. Why are you still seeing him? I thought you said he has a girlfriend now?”

Vanessa pauses her tapping on his chest, her eyes go wide for a second. Like, for a second she wasn’t void of emotion.

“He does.” She says smoothly before she begins tapping her fingers against his chest again.

“He cheated on me with this girl.” She admits, “Little does this bitch know—”

“Is that healthy? Getting revenge?” Jungkook asks, concern lacing his voice.

Vanessa continues to tap her fingers as she narrows her eyes at Jungkook.

“You want to talk to me about what’s healthy?” her empty laugh fills the room.

“I want you to stop.” Jungkook’s hands go to her hips, “Let’s be exclusive, Vanessa.”

“I can’t stop…” she whispers softly, “I can’t let go.”

Jungkook observes Vanessa for a few moments, she looks as vulnerable as she did the first time she talked about her ex with him. He feels sorry for her. He really does want her to move on, for her own sake.

“You can move forward, Vanessa. You have me.”

Vanessa looks into his eyes, studying his serious expression. She can tell he means well but…she doesn’t have him. She never will.

“Please Vanessa, we can make this work.” He begs, yes begs.

Vanessa tilts her head to the side. Oh? This must be his desperation talking, she thinks. His desperation to get over you. She knows this. And she doesn’t hold it against him and instead she decides to help him.

“Okay, let’s make this work.”

~~~~~~~

y/n 8:09pm

On a scale of 1-10 how bad do you wanna watch spirited away right now?

Jungkook 8:15pm

11 girl don’t play

y/n 8:16pm

I thought so, I think this means you need to come over and watch it w meeee

Jungkook 8:20pm

Lemme shower and I’ll be over:)

y/n 8:22pm

Bring beer pllllssss

Jungkook 8:42pm

On my way

y/n 8:45pm

Drive safe bb

It’s around 9pm exactly when you hear soft knocking on the front door. You scurry towards the door and open it, finding Jungkook on the other side. He is wearing your favorite gray puma sweat suit and his hair is wavy and damp. He smiles at you when he sees you eyeing him up and down.

“Like what you see?” he teases.

“Wow, what a classic line Jungkook. Real original.” You scoff, letting the boy through.

Jungkook walks in, setting down a case of beer on the breakfast table.

“I brought our favorite.” He gestures towards the beer on the table. “Let’s drink it while it’s nice and chilly.”

“Agreed. I already have the movie set up.” You point towards the T.V “Ready for our viewing pleasure.”

“Where’s Holly?” Jungkook takes two beers from the case, handing one over to you.

“Her and Trina went out to some bar, I didn’t feel like going.” You take the beer and twist off the cap, Jungkook does the same. You two clank the bottles together in cheers and take a few sips.

“Ah.” You say, the refreshing beer making you feel well, refreshed.

“Because you don’t feel like going to a bar? Or because you would rather hang out with me?” Jungkook smirks, taking another sip of his beer.

“Because I didn’t feel like getting pretty.” You bring the beer to your lips, but you don’t drink from the bottle, just waiting for a response instead.

“You’re always pretty.”

You take a sip of the beer, feeling satisfied with his response. “I know.” You half joke.

“Let’s go to a bar.” Jungkook blurts out.

“W-What?”

“Let’s go in our lounge clothes.” He smiles, “Let’s just do it.”

“No!” you laugh out, “We look like slobs. Well, I do. You look…” your hand motions towards his body, “You know, you look…”

“Are you trying to say I’m hot, y/n?” Jungkook’s sly smile grows as he drinks his beer.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out.

“Well, I think the same of you. So let’s go.”

You can’t help but laugh, you continue to drink your beer back, the liquid settling nicely.

“Okay. Fuck it, let’s do it.” You can’t help but grin, the idea of going to a bar in yoga pants and a t shirt with your sort of best friend sounds so great to you.

“But maybe a little makeup…” Jungkook starts chuckling as you hit his arm with your fist.

“Shut up.”

The bar is mostly pretty casual, maybe not as casual as you and Jungkook but still casual.

Only a small handful of people are actually dressed nicely, but mostly are in jeans and nice shirts. Somehow Jungkook is still the hottest guy here. Even in his sweat suit. You’re surprised you two even got let in, does this place not have some sort of dress code? Guess not.

It’s pretty loud inside, the place has a live band and a decent dance floor. You and Jungkook head towards the bar and take your seats.

The bartender takes a few minutes to reach you two and when she does she automatically nods at Jungkook for his order.

“Two long islands please.” He says, he smirks towards you and you smile back. Long islands? Oh you’re getting drunk drunk tonight.

“You got it.” She smiles at him with all her teeth, and turns around to start mixing the drinks.

“Long islands, huh?” you rest your head in your hand on the bar top.

“I figure neither of us are driving tonight, we might as well go hard.” Jungkook smiles at you. “I’ll buy this first round?”

“Sounds good to me.” You bump fists with Jungkook with a wide smile. “Wanna make a bet?”

“What’s that?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you.

“I bet you $5 that by the end of the night the bartender will hit on you.”

“But I also bet $5 that the bartender will hit on me.” Jungkook pouts.

You stare at him in disbelief at his cockiness and you burst out into giggles.

“Fair enough.” You say between laughs.

The bartender slides two drinks to you and Jungkook, she twists and twirls her hair in her fingers as she asks Jungkook how it tastes. He takes a sip and gives her a thumbs up, you can’t help but snicker.

“Can we also get two tequila shots?” you wave at the bartender. She turns to face you and frowns.

“Sure.” She puts on a fake smile and turns to fill up two shot glasses with tequila. She sets them in front of you a Jungkook and tells you the amount due.

“Tequila shots? Are we trying to fucking die tonight?” Jungkook chuckles from beside you. He grabs two limes and hands you one.

“To us.” You say, lifting your shot in the air.

“To you.” Jungkook whispers as you clank glasses and throw back the shots.

Holy shit, you are fucking wasted. After several tequila shots and a few long islands you and Jungkook are barely holding on. Okay, fine. It’s not that bad. But you guys are really drunk!

His hand hasn’t left your waist for hours, and it feels so fucking nice. It feels perfect. It feels right.

“y/n?” a voice calls out to you. You know this voice, really well in fact.

“Taehyung!” you cheer. You stumble forward and go in for a high five and his drunk ass high fives you back.

“Fancy seeing you again.” You giggle.

Jungkook’s hand grips your waist tighter as he narrows his eyes at Taehyung.

“What do you mean again?” Jungkook asks, his voice low.

“We ran into each other at my friend Yoongi’s” you slur out.

“Hi Jungkookie.” Taehyung awkwardly sways back and forth, his words also slurred. It’s obvious he’s on the same level as drunk as you.

“…Hey.” Jungkook hesitates to respond, he looks between you two. “y/n…is this okay? Talking to him?”

“Hm? Oh? Yeah.” You stare at Jungkook blankly. Why wouldn’t it be, you think.

“Jungkook, maybe we could talk just the two of us?”

You look between the boys and somehow you feel yourself sobering up just a bit.

“Uh. I’ll go to the bathroom.” You say, already walking away.

“You know how sorry I feel.” Taehyung begins, “About everything.”

“What’s everything?” Jungkook mumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry for what I did to y/n. But I am also sorry for holding your secret over you like that to keep mine.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook slurs out, “That was fucked up.”

“I miss you guys…” Taehyung takes a sip of his drink, “Even Jimin barely talks to me.”

“Shouldn’t have messed with our girl.”

“You mean, your girl.” Taehyung drunkenly corrects Jungkook.

“Whatever.”

“Seriously man, when are you just going to grow the fucking balls?” Taehyung raises his voice just a bit, “It’s clear how you both feel—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about man, plus I have a girlfriend now—”

“You guys are official now?” You walk up to the boys, cutting in. You feel like maybe he’s just saying that.

“y/n…yeah, we just made it official.” Jungkook admits, running a hand through his hair, sighing out in frustration.

Oh. You feel your heart begin to crumble. They’re dating for real now?

“Do you have feelings for her?” You blurt out.

Jungkook shifts from one foot to another, he breathes in and out in and out. He bites on his bottom lip, thinking of how to respond.

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“Well, I’m going to head back to my friends…” Taehyung butts in awkwardly. “It was nice seeing you two.” And with that he’s slipping away in the crowd.

“Wanna dance?” you say, trying your best to change the subject. You decide you don’t want to know his answer.

“Sure.” Jungkook smiles at you, he reaches for your hand and you squeeze his tightly. You guide him to the dance floor, the song is a slow one. You two look at one another but there’s nothing awkward about this. He guides your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands circle around your waist, he pulls you in close as you two sway to the music.

“Never go 3 months without me again.” You whisper into his neck.

“W-Why are you bringing that up now?”

“I have to keep my eyes on you, Jungkook. Without my supervision you go off and get yourself a girlfriend.” Your drunken words pierce his heart.

“Is that a problem?” He whispers back. “Yes, a big problem.” You lean back to get a look at his face, he’s already staring down at you, he somehow brings you in even closer.

“Whys that?” He breathes out.

“Want you all for myself.” You admit, drunk words are sober thoughts right?

“You want me baby?” Jungkook leans down until he’s so close, like he cannot control it.

“Yes.” You blink up at him, your lips parted.

The song changes but you two continue to dance like it’s a slow song.

“I bet you $5 that some guy will hit on you in the next couple of minutes.”

You tilt your head and drunkenly giggle, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook reaches in his back pocket and hands you a five dollar bill.

“What’s this f—”

“You’re so fucking beautiful” and then his lips are just a mere inch away from yours before he’s pulling back with a look of horror and guilt plastered on his face.

“I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m with Vanessa now. I’m just drunk. I’m really drunk. You’re really drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing.” He drunkenly rambles.

You feel your heart sink down into your lower belly, you feel it crack and break into a million pieces. That’s right. Vanessa. He’s making it work with that girl.

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

“You’re my best friend y/n.” Jungkook slurs out, “I’m trying so hard not to ruin that.”

You only nod your head.

“Let’s go home.” You say.

~~~~~~

Your bed is comfy as ever, especially this drunk. Jungkook takes his shirt off and slips into the sheets, settling next to you.

“Wanna cuddle?” he offers.

“I don’t know if Vanessa would like that.” You slur.

“Right.” Jungkook lays on his back, his arms folding beneath his head. “Should I sleep in the living room?”

“No. I want you here.” You admit between soft breaths. “I always want you here.” You yawn out.

“Good.” Jungkook reaches out to hold you, “I don’t think Vanessa will mind if I cuddle my best friend for just five minutes.”

“Five minutes only” you tease. You shuffle closer to him, his warmth escaping his body and clinging to yours.

You two fall asleep like this. Morning comes slowly, like the world is giving you a chance to really appreciate one another’s company. Like the world knows that moments like this are so hard to come by. Like the world knows that you two need this.

When you wake up the next day, its half past noon. You’re still in Jungkook’s arms while he is dead asleep. You nuzzle into his chest and thank the world for giving you this moment. This moment to embrace him like he is yours, a moment to kiss his cheek like he is yours, a moment to whisper you love him like he is yours.

But he isn’t. He isn’t yours and that’s the reality. But you thank the world nonetheless. Because you need these moments to stay sane. But how do you two always end up like this? Can you keep blaming the alcohol? He tried to kiss you last night and that’s also the reality.

Jungkook wanted to kiss you. Can he keep saying it’s just because he’s drunk?

But he’s with Vanessa now and you have to respect that. And you will respect that.

You thank the world though, that right now he’s in your arms, breathing your air, and sharing this moment. Just you and him.

Finally, after another half hour Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep.

You stare at him as he wakes up and his sleepy eyes find yours.

“G’morning.” His voice is low and raspy and you want to swoon.

“Hi.”

“We…” he looks between your bodies. “Didn’t do anything, right?”

You feel your chest tighten, “No, Jungkook.” You answer calmly.

“Okay…” Jungkook frowns, “We can’t keep doing this, can we?”

Somehow you know exactly what he’s talking about, you can’t keep building this tension between you two. It goes nowhere.

“No” You admit softly, “We can’t.”

You think about Jimin’s words…could Jungkook…? But you don’t want to jump to happy conclusions, put yourself out there and then be wrong. But he tried to fucking kiss you. The girls were right, is this really all for you? You can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you. “We really can’t.” you say again.

Jungkook smiles, but its soft and sad and makes you want to kiss his pouting lips until he shows you a real smile but you can’t.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Jungkook moves to his back, he stares up at the ceiling.

“I was just really drunk.” He continues, “Drunk me is wild.” He chuckles awkwardly.

“Is that really an excuse anymore?” you feel brave enough to say.

“y/n…”

“Forget it. We’re okay.”

“Are we?” Jungkook moves back to his side, facing you. He gives you a troubled look and you melt. Why are you always melting because of this man?

“Yeah. What’s more important is that your birthday is next week…”

“Oh yeah.”

“Can I be in charge of your party?”

“I don’t want a party, just a couple of friends.”

“Let me host it!”

“Okay, fine.” Jungkook smiles, “I can’t wait.”

“Do I have to invite Vanessa?”

“y/n.” Jungkook groans.

“Kidding!” you sing. Although, you aren’t entirely sure that you’re just kidding.

“It would be nice if you could plan this with Vanessa actually…she mentioned wanting to do something nice for my birthday too.” He sort of whispers out, like he didn’t want you to actually hear.

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what to say. You obviously don’t want co-host a get together with Vanessa but she is his girlfriend after all.

“Fine.”

You and Vanessa? Let’s see how this goes.

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst

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divinefireangel · 3 years

Text

They Just Don't Know You

Soft Yandere! Seo Moon-Jo x F! Reader

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: A 2nd longer fic for our lovely cannibalistic psychopath. I hate that I'm attracted to him. Someone please be my therapist. Or psychiatrist. Honestly doesn't matter. My brain is fucked anyway.

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 16+ and written for female reader, but all can read. (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Except that I've mentioned reader is short, cuz LDW is tall 🥰. There is a brief mention of sex, but no actual smut. Reader kinda highkey hates on her parents and younger sister. Read it to know. Age gap between reader and Moon-Jo. Slight obsessive thoughts. Manipulative words. I tried to put plot twist in the end, probably you won't notice it 💀. Please please tell me if I need to add more warnings. Do not read if you start to feel uncomfortable. I apologize in advance 🥺

❗❗PLEASE READ WARNINGS ❗❗

Pre-Requisite / Summary: Just a fic based on the song They Just Don't Know You by Little Mix. After watching Strangers from hell I related this song to him for some reason. Reader and Moon-Jo are in an established relationship. And reader's loved ones don't approve.

2.3k ish words My longest fic till date 🥳

" You know that he's too old for you. You can settle for younger, much younger guys for your age sweetheart. If you can't find anyone eligible enough, we will find one for you. And you don't even know if he has intentions of marrying you. What if all he wants is just a fling or some time pass relationship. Hmm? What are you going to do then? "

Sipping her tea silently, Y/N sat next to her dad on the porch swing, listening to all the criticisms he had about Moon-Jo. All his words did was boil her blood. But what could she do when they don't walk in her shoes? They don't know how safe and content she feels when he kisses her like she's the only girl for him in the entire universe. And no point in explaining that to her father anyway. She's tried. And failed. Multiple times.

"Are you done with your tea?" She asks her dad, in desperate attempt to try and get away from him and his words because she knows, and even he knows that it's going to end up in a fight if they continue to speak on the same topic.

Humming yes, he hands her his tea cup which she takes to the kitchen so she can help her mom with dinner. Placing them in the sink upon entering the kitchen, Y/N drags her palms down her face in frustration.

" I could hear what he said you know. Your dad. He's not wrong. Seo Moon-Jo seems like he'll break your heart in three. And we're only looking out for you Y/N. You don't have to go through heartbreak when you can very well avoid it." Her mom finished slowly.

" Why. Why is it so difficult for you to accept the fact that I'm actually in a happy relationship for once in my life. So what if he's much older than I am? He's a dentist. A doctor. A very good profession and he's known and well respected in his neighbourhood too. " Y/N said loud enough for her dad also to hear.

Huffing in annoyance she left the kitchen to go upstairs to her room. Or rather the room she shares with her sister. Of course the door is wide open. The younger rascal is always here for the drama.

Ever since Y/N came out to her family about her relationship with Moon-Jo, her sister has become the favourite child, for obvious reasons. And now eavesdropping with the door wide open? That's a new low. But what else can Y/N expect from such a low life who is literally thriving off her own sister's pain and suffering.

When entering the room, Y/N realizes how big a mistake it was to visit her family. And she did not need such snark from a younger, less experienced child.

"Are you that blinded by " Love " that you don't even see how weird his hair is? A man who isn't an idol or actor doesn't need such long hair. He's clearly a fuckboy. Or man whore. Whichever is right. " She said with disgust.

'She's just jealous. She's just a jealous bitch. They all are.' Y/N thinks to herself.

" At least one of us gets laid regularly. And just so you know, it's absolutely heavenly when he makes me cum over and over on his fingers and his dick-" Y/N said as her tone slowly got lower and darker and her emotion angrier.

Screaming and covering her ears, the younger girl ran downstairs to her mother, no doubt to tattle on her older sister. Rolling her eyes, Y/N started packing her things, all of them, in a bag she took down from the top shelf of the wardrobe.

It's really difficult to leave one's family, but it is clearly getting more and more tiresome to love them nowadays. If it's so wrong to date him, why does Y/N herself not see it? She's a logical and smart young lady. Does her family hate that man so much that they don't even want her to be happy? No matter who she's with. And is it so bad to date a man who's older? Richer? And cares more about her than all of her family members combined?

Wiping the fallen tear stains from her cheek, she just thinks to herself ' They just don't know him. They just don't know him like I do. '

Sending a text to her lover, saying that she misses him and that she's coming back home sooner than planned, Y/N carries her bag through the front door, her parents and sister ignoring her as she leaves and walks out that door one final time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once reaching their shared apartment, Y/N collapsed into her lover's arms the moment he opens the door, crying her eyes out. Seeing his lover in turmoil, shedding a tear or two of his own, Moon-Jo carries her to the living room couch to cradle her like a child who needs attention.

" They- They said -"

" Shh my darling. I know. " Moon-Jo said, shushing his girlfriend and giving her a shoulder to cry on. Once she's calmed a little, her sobs turning to sniffs, she lifts her head to meet his gaze.

Seeing her sad, tear stained eyes always upset him. More than anything in the world. Running his long slender fingers across her cheeks and jaw, he removes her hair from her ponytail with his free hand and rests it on her thigh.

" Tell me. Please tell me that you won't break my heart like them. That you won't try to tear my world apart like them. " Y/N looked desperately at him, wanting so badly to know that he's not just using her.

Those words, that slipped out her mouth, shocked Moon-Jo, to say the least. What did he do wrong? What did her family fill her head with?

Tilting his head to a little, he looks into her red eyes, trying to read her mind for a moment, all the while she just looked at him with the same desperate expression.

"Please tell me that you will be there when I need you the most. " Y/N whispered so softly, she herself barely heard it. But the end of the sentence, she started crying all over again.

Taking her head to his neck, he stroked her hair and her sides, trying to calm her down.

" Darling. I promise with my everything, that I will never leave you, I will never ever let you go. That I will do anything, anything necessary to prove my love to you. "

"No, oh dear no. That's not, you don't have- have to do anything at all to make me believe you love me. I'm sorry I asked such a stupid question. " She sobbed out.

Shushing her softly again, he rocks their bodies back and forth, till she's calmed and fallen asleep there, in his arms. Knowing that his arms are her only safe place for her from now on, he takes her delicate figure to the bedroom.

Placing her on her side of the bed, he lays down on his. Staring at her stunning face, he feather touches her face with his fingertips, memorizing every curve, every little detail on her, like a sculptor admiring his work and giving it the finishing touches.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

" So, I did a little digging on your sugar daddy. "

" Why?! And he's not my sugar daddy. " Y/N said in disbelief. No. Not her dear best friend too.

" I know you said not to and I'm sorry. But I am worried about you. He made you leave your family Y/N. " They stated with worry and sympathy.

" No. He didn't make me leave them. I left them by choice. They don't see him like I do. And clearly, they hate that I'm happy with him. " Y/N finished as they sat down at the lunch table.

" Y/N..... "

" What? Even you don't want me to be happy? " She questioned her friend in disbelief. Laughing sarcastically Y/N shook her head.

" I've heard rumours! Okay? He was in the orphanage that had that severe fire explosion. And most of the culprits from that incident are MIA. What if he's one of the people who caused it?! " They said in a whisper, worried that the neighbouring people can hear their conversation.

" Do you really think that? All of that is just a rumour. And he's told me about it. He's told me everything. Unlike my parents who so desperately tried to tie me down to an arranged marriage. "

" He's not good for you. I know you deserve better. Okay he may make happy and all but what if he leaves? What if he just uses you and drops you like you were nothing? We're just trying to make sure you don't get hurt Y/N. Physically and emotionally. " They finished.

" This, all what you said, is cheap talk. But it'll eventually wear down because when we get married and have kids and all that in the future, you're all going to look like fools. And I will proudly say ' I told you so '. "

" If that's the case then I am the happiest person for you. Hopefully I won't have to be the one to say ' I told you so'. "

" Wow. I, just- hah. Wow. Just wow. " She paused.

" You know, I really hoped you would be more supportive or at least tolerant enough to have patience and support me with my decision for my love. " Y/N said loud enough for eavesdroppers to hear audibly.

Of all the people she would have to drop, never even in her nightmares had she fathomed that her best friend would be one.

Getting up from the table, she picks up her bag and leaves without another word, and goes to the only place that has love for her and that accepts her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Reaching home, Y/N notices the place empty. Maybe he's at the clinic?

Shrugging off her bag and jacket she sits on the couch for a moment, before her restlessness takes over and she begins pacing in the living room.

Why are people being like this? Do they hate her so much? They barely know him. Why are they treating and accusing him to be such a criminal! He's not. He takes care of Y/N so much. He loves her so much. He provides for her. He's affectionate with her, more than he's told he thought capable. He's become her ride or die. And she, his.

They don't know him like I do. They will never love me like he does.

They don't know about the love they have. The just see what they want to see. Bloody society dictating whom to love and whom to not. Is it so hard to see the love they have for each other? Can't they just let it be. They don't know the turmoil she's gone through recently; they don't know how well he's taken care of her, kept her happy and same enough to not let her intrusive thoughts get the best of her.

Her thoughts interrupted by the door clicking open. Smiling, Moon-Jo enters with a box, surely containing sweets from her favourite bakery. How can you not love someone so considerate, who does things for you without even having to ask.

Seeing the sad look upon his lover's face, Moon-Jo's smile fades into a frown.

" What's wrong my dear? "

Smiling sadly Y/N just shakes her head, conveying that she doesn't want to talk about it.

Placing the box of sweets on the coffee table, the two hug each other, feeling of comfort taking over them both. She can just stay here, forever, in his arms till the world ends.

" Babe. What's wrong? You can tell me anything. Anything at all. I'll take care of the problem. " Delicately Moon-Jo cradles Y/N's head in his palms, making her face up to him, their height difference evident.

Sighing, she moves to sit on the couch, motioning him to do the same. " It's just people. And what they say. My family was one thing, but my best friend, the person I chose as my family " Pausing Y/N breathers the tears back in, " They were doubtful of you today. How can I live knowing that no one will approve of us? " Y/N questioned looking at him.

" Does their opinion really matter that much? So much so that you are skeptical of my affection to you? " Coldly, he moved back from his seat on the couch.

" No! No. Gosh that is not what I mean. Not at all. I love you and I know that you love me. So much. So much so I would die for you. But there are other people whom I care about. Who's opinions matter to me. And I don't want to let them go. As happy as I am with you, I need them too. They give me joy in a different way, that is important. "

" Do I not make you happy? Are you not content with the love I give you? Is it not enough? " He asks carefully.

" That's not what I meant! You love me more than anyone I've known. "

"Then what's the problem? You don't need those people who don't love you. You have me. You will have me forever and ever. I will never leave you. And you will never leave me either. We'll be with each other till the end of the world darling. "

Nodding with a small smile you looked down at your feet.

Unhappy with your action, Moon-Jo pulls your face up by your chin to look at him with such force, it scared you a little, making your heart skip a beat in fear.

" Do you not love me, babe? " He asked tilting his head to a side, his expression mildly offended.

" I do! I love you. So much. " You finished with a soft tone, cupping his face with your hands.

Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, Moon-Jo leaned down to capture your lips with his. Reacting immediately, you kissed him with as much energy and sincerity you could muster, as you head filled with thoughts of doubt.

Had your parents been right? Had for friend been right? Had they all been right all along and you too blind to see?

No. It can't be. He loves you. He's said that so many times. And you love him.

You love him.

You.

Love.

Him.

...

Do you love him, or have you been illusioned into loving him?

#lee dong wook #lee dong wook imagine #lee dong wook x reader #ldw #strangers from hell #strangers from hell x reader #hell is other people #seo moon jo #seo moon jo x reader #seo moon jo imagine #seo moon jo x f!reader #yandere seo moon jo

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

One Last Time 06 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

‘‘ I swear I am going to have someone beat your ass Park Jimin!’’

‘‘ It’s not my fucking fault! I broke up with her but you lead her to the apartment knowing she’ll follow!’‘

‘‘ Damn it Jimin im going to kick your ass!’‘

Your eyes pop open just in time to see Jungkook on-top of Jimin hitting him repeatedly on the face while Jimin manages to push him off of him and begin his fist fight against him. He straddles Jungkook to the floor and punches are thrown left and right. Now the sudden headache of seeing the two brothers fight has began in your head and you cannot stand hearing the groaning and yelling between them. Bringing your hand up to signal them to stop, you realize they don’t even know you’ve awakened.

Jungkook on the other hand is not having it so he throws Jimin off of him harshly making Jimin groan. The way he grabs Jimin’s collar with venom fast strength finally gives you the courage to yell out to them.

‘‘ Stop! Damn it, you two are like literal fucking teenagers. Act your age!”

The both of them turn their heads toward you slowly. Jungkook drops his fist, which was going to connect with Jimin’s face. You take a good look at them. Freshly bruised from each-other. Great.

‘‘ You think fighting is going to solve this problem huh? Get over here now.” You say, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Jungkook gives Jimin a death glare before rushing to your side and feeling your forehead. You slap his hand away and pull him down by his shirt only for him to recieve a harsh slap to the forehead.

‘‘ Shit!” He stumbles back and rubs his forehead. He shoots you a glare, wanting to yell at you but doesn’t. You motion for Jimin to come to you too. He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

‘‘ I don’t think it’s necessary for you to do that..” He says, as if your death glare towards him isn’t enough to tell him you aren’t joking whatsoever.

He gets the memo when you disregard his comments before hanging his head low and bending down a little to your height. One slap against the forehead and two across the wrists.

‘‘ That’s for you fighting He was only looking out for me. The last two were for having a psychotic girlfriend who almost killed me. Look at my wrist!’‘

You hold them out to see two I.V’s, one for blood transfusion and the other a regular for nutrients on your right wrist. Both of them bandaged up which does need to be changed because of the old blood.

‘‘ I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would be this upset.’‘ Jimin says, hanging his head low. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him out of annoyance.

‘‘ Whatever. I already called my lawyer for your case. Since Isabel tried to attempt murder to you, you will win this case for sure.’‘ He proudly leans against the wall hoping to atleast crack a smile from you.

You don’t smile though. The last thing you need is another scandal. If this were to make the news and blogs right now then it could be a bad thing. You’ve just started your modeling career again and right now would be the worst time to have something like that.

Jimin leans on the wall with his hands in his pockets, still avoiding locking eyes with you which is something he usually does. Something tells you that he’s hiding something. Something that you just can’t put your finger on.

‘‘ The police will come shortly for witness statements and your statement. Then they’ll call for a court date as soon as possible.’‘ Jimin’s voice low, illuminating with a hint of sadness.

Out of curiosity you want to say something more. To ask him whats going on and why he’s acting rather like this. It’s really not like him. He’s hiding something for sure and you just cannot put your finger on it. You just agree and pull out your phone. A missed call from Ryan. You try texting her and she almost always responds immediately. This time she doesn’t. What’s really going on?

You don’t know but Ryan took it upon herself to pay Isabel a visit. Usually visitors aren’t allowed for people in holding but with a little sweet talk of hers she got to get atleast 10 minutes to talk. That’s all she needs. When it comes to you, her bestfriend, she never messes around. Hearing the news from Jungkook yesterday she almost went luncatic. Throwing things at him, calling his brother every disrespectful name in the book. Oh she hates him now for sure.

Jungkook had to stop her from going over to the hospital to beat his ass into a bloody pulp for causing you pain and getting together with that crazy girl just to break up with her. Ryan was heated.

But now she can take this heat and serve some to Isabel right now. She walks with confidence into the room. Nothing and nobody can stop her and if they even try, she’ll chew them up and spit them out. Catching a glimpise of Isabel sitting at the table with her hands cuffed and security next to her, Ryan shoots her a devious glare.

‘‘ What brings you here? I expected my boyfr-’‘

A harsh slam from her hands hit the table as she bends a little to her seated level, ‘‘ He’ not your fucking boyfriend. You were lucky I wasn’t there to beat your fucking ass.”

The guard tenses up at the sounds and sudden movements. Ryan notices, and decides to take her seat to calm down before she’s the one sitting behind the jail bars too.

‘‘ Ryan.. I thought we were friends?’‘ She frowns, pouting her lips while fake wiping tears away.

Ryan scoffs,shaking her head ever so slowly with a devilish grin on her face. “ We aren’t. Don’t let me catch you un-attended without your manager or body guard.. Isabel.’’

Isabel laughs one of her evil laughs, throwing her head back then coming back up, “ Oh how cute. Is this a threat from little ol’ you? Me and Jimin were doing just fine before your bestfriend had decided to enter his life again. I’m not the only bad guy here. She should know boundaries for taken men. Ex’s aren’t supposed to be firendly and lovey dovey. Spending nights and going everywhere with each other. Especially when one’s a famous idol with another idol girlfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“ Maybe you should take that up with your hoe of a boyfriend. He’s the one who can’t leave her alone.” She yells, inches away from Isabel’s face. The two stare at each other long and hard. Isabel is no match for Ryan though.

The guard clears his throat to break the two’s glares. The tension is thick in the air.

“ If you ever touch yn again, I’ll make sure you’re the one in the hospital this time around.”

‘‘ You’ll all see. I’ll win this court case. Trust me… there’s things you do not know.”

Ryan rolls her eyes, strutting her way out the room with the sound of her heels clicking right behind her. Consider the message recieved.

It’s been one week after the situation. In which in between those days you were dismissed from the hospital and have been in at Jimin’s house ever since. You didn’t want to be here. You want to be at home with your cat, Clara. Jungkook’s been going over to feed and play with her. Jimin kept pleading for you not to return home just yet because it could be a danger to you. It makes sense. You never know what Isabel has up her sleeve.

So you’ve been sitting here doing the same old thing everyday. Eat, watch movies and netflix tv shows, sleep, and repeat.

Jimin would come in and out of his home studio to check in on you. He still has to work on producing and singing his songs. He’d bring the food and your medicine he prepared per usual, kiss your forehead, and go right back out to producing his highly anticipated album.

It all seems fake to you. Something is off. Something is not being told to you. You can feel it in your gut but can’t put a finger on it.

‘‘ This is so cliche.’‘ You murmur to yourself, switching the flat-screen T.V off.

And as if on cue Jimin comes inside your- well his room with a glass of water and prescribed pain killers for you. The slight smile on his face makes you want to smile but you don’t.

‘‘ Smile for ocne yn. Do you not like staying here?’‘ He says, sitting next to you on the side of the bed and places the glass in your hands.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, taking the two pills out of his palm. “ No.. but be honest with me Jimin okay?”

His face turns a quick shade of pink then pale as if you had said the wrong choice of words at the wrong time. As if he had seen a ghost at this very moment. That’s not a good sign at all.

‘‘ Are you.. hiding something from me?’‘

The atmosphere is thick and silence fills the room. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t either. Your eyes meet his and for once they don’t pull away first.

Jimin doesn’t know how to break it to you though. It’s now or never.

‘‘ She will never leave me.”

You bite your lip hard, “ What do you mean?”

“ That she said that she’d do everything to ruin our relationship if we continue to persue one. She’d spready rumors about you to Dispatch. Make a scene whenver you’re near me. Anything she can do, she will do it.”

You don’t know how to take this all in. You knew Isabel was possesive but not this possesive. The thought of her doing things on purpose for you to make everyone hate you makes you want to cry. To just bawl your eyes out right here right now. You can’t.. you won’t do it.

You won’t give in because thats what she wants. To make you cry. To ruin your reputation and work. Jimin came back into your life and of course you don’t know what to do or how to deal with it. But this is what you wanted right? You’ve been longing for you and him to get a second chance. It’s you. You’re the one who’s been putting things off and not letting things go with the flow. Maybe he came back to you because he realized how wrong he was for cheating on you. For leaving you behind. For not seeing things for truly how it is.

You knew Isabel was bad luck from the beginning. Now is the time to try and take back what was originally yours. That will hurt her more than ever.

“ She needs to have a reality check. Not everything revolves around her.”

‘‘ I agree. Putting her behind bars might give her a reality check. It should serve her right for harming people.” Jimin sighs.

The silence is thick. You both don’t know what to say and it’s sure as hell awkward more than ever right now. Until that silence breaks.

‘‘ I feel like you aren’t being your true self to me. If we are getting things out now.”

His sudden comment makes you lift your head up from playing with the comforter. “ What do you mean?’’

‘‘ You.. don’t want to take actions on what you feel, say, or want to do with or about me. It’s killing me inside.”

He’s right. You do try to push your feelings aside no matter what the cause is. It’s just you trying to not set yourself up for hearbreak again. You do want him. You do want everything to do with him. Considering the things that happened in the past, it’s no doubt theres a fence guarding your heart from intruders.

You exhale out heavily, “ Im just.. scared.’’

‘‘ Of? “

‘‘ Being hurt again.”

Dead silence again. This time he’s the one trying to come up with words to redirect your view of him. Yes, he broke your heart in the worst way possible. He wants you to see he’s changed.

Jimin bites his lip, voice shaky when he begins talking again. ‘‘ How can I show you that i’m not the same anymore. Im not I promise you. I want you to see I have changed. I know it’s my fault. I destroyed you but let me fix it.”

It’s all come down to this. You’ve wanted this and now is the chance to get it. Now is the chance to have what was once yours. But the feeling of doubt had taken its course on you at the worst time.

‘‘ Jimin.. how do I know that for sure?’‘ You say, unintentionally fluttering your eyes at him. To you it’s to prevent from letting tears fall.

Jimin see’s it as that specific thing you used to do when you wanted him. When you craved him and would drop hints. To be completely honest, you do crave him. You do want him. Make-up sex was something you two used to do often. It was your toxic way of saying im sorry.

Somehow you want to put that toxic thing into action right now. As fucked up as it is, that’s how you two know you’re sorry towards each other. Actions speak louder than words.

He closes his eyes for a quick second before clenching his jaw to contain himself. Your weak spot.

‘‘ Stop doing that. Unless you want to start something you don’t want to finish.”

You smile just a little, hoping he’d get the memo. “ What if I do want to start and finish it..”

As if a car alarm went off, Jimin’s eyes pop back open with a suprised look. That’s the last thing he’d thought he’d be hearing from you. “ Are you sure about that? I mean we don’t have t-”

You lean in closer to where you guys are inches apart, his lips softly rubbing against yours. “ I’m all for it.”

Within seconds, Jimin’s shirt is removed off of you only revealing your blue panties which have became a little soaked with your wetness. He takes in the scent of you before his mouth connects with your thighs, slightly sucking to leave bruises on you.

‘‘ Jimin.. don’t tease me.” You sigh, laying fully down to spread your legs even more. He hums against your skin making you catch chills up and down your spine.

‘‘ That’s my specialty baby. You know that.” He trails a kiss with each word all the way down to your core where he dips a finger inside. You tense up attempting to close your legs. He doesn’t allow it, spreading them open harshly again.

‘’ Jimin-’‘ You barely utter before he begins to move his fingers in and out of you slowly. You let out a whine to try and make him go faster but it doesn’t work.

He comes up to your mouth and plants a wet, sloppy kiss. “ No whining. You’re gonna get what you want. Just relax baby.”

Is all he tells you before he goes back down to your core to tend to your desires.

The first lick between your legs is ever so gentle. Too gentle for you right now considering that you want release badly and Jimin knew exactly that. He opens his mouth and swirls his tongue up and down your slit. A groan leaves his mouth once he gets a taste of you which sends a vibration to your sensitive bud.

Each time his tongue laps against you your body jerked and shook but that only makes his tongue go faster. Sending you into a moaning and groaning mess as you tug on his hair.

“Mmh you even taste the same like always.” He moans with a smirk.

“Jimin please-” you cry out, locking your fingers into his hair when a finger is inserted into your dripping wet hole.

‘‘ No whining babygirl.’‘ His voice gentle as ever when he removes the finger inside of you making you pout a little. But that pout soon turned into your eyes becoming wide when he starts to take off his shirt, then grey sweatpants, then his underwear where his thick cock springs up.

Your eyes can’t leave his body. God it’s been a while. He looks pretty damn good. You wan’t to take all of his length in your mouth right now. To hear him praise you about how good your mouth feels against him. God you want it right now.

He gives it a few strokes before walking over to you. Just before hovering over you, he gives you a passionate kiss while lifting up your legs and positioning them to his liking. Missionary.

The tip of him pokes at the entrance of you, teasing in and out. Soon enough he enters you slowly making both of you moan together.

You still wrap and fit around his member smug as ever, and he could not believe it. The feeling of familiarity of being inside you sends him into a moaning mess with each stroke. You can’t contain your moans and screams. He feels way too good.

Jimin begins to deep-stroke you by pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You scream his name out in pleasure as your nails scratch up his toned back. Wet sounds fill the room with him picking up his pace. You take a glimpse of him only to admire his figure right now. Forehead forming sweat beads while he groans and moans biting his plump pink lips.

Your breathing becomes faster when that familiar feeling soon starts to take over. You turn your head to the side and let out a string of moans. Jimin isn’t having that though. His hand grabs your face gently and makes you make eye contact with him. Your legs start shaking as your head tilts back moans getting more faster. You finally let out one last one in sync with him, his hot sperm shoots inside of you.

Jimin pulls out, breathing heavily and collapses ontop of you. You let out a small grunt with the sudden extra body upon you, then giggle at him when he lays his head lays against your chest. This is what you wanted. He’s true. He’s sorry.

‘’ I love you.”

That word surprises you. You weren’t prepared for it. Somehow though, you enjoy the fact that he’s said it to you. Love. Jimin’s love. Your love.

‘’ I love you much more Jimin.’’

291 notes · View notes

tharros-auris-black-asimi · 2 years

Text

Breathin

Pairing: Prince Bucky Barnes x Princess Reader

Summary: As the wife of the Crown Prince of Russia, James Romanov, your life is certainly very interesting. You love everything at the palace. However, your new husband is a real piece of work.

Warnings: This story takes place in an advanced kingdom society. So, royalty is still a thing. Think Wakanda, but for the rest of the world. Some mild asshole!Bucky. This story also has a physically disabled Reader, so some mild ableism and misogyny will be thrown around in this fic. Wayyy too much smut. Oral, fem, and male receiving, (with the male receiving in a library, so semi-public blowjobs, I guess?), rough sex with some anal fingering, as well as the lovemaking towards the end having the use of restraints and a gag, although not for kinky purposes.

If there are any warnings I missed, please let me know!

Additional Notes: This one-shot was originally going to be a part of my Royalty!Bucky fic in a series I'm doing over at my AO3, but when I started mapping out Bucky's story, I found that there wouldn't be a place for it, because it wasn't all that important. So instead, you can view this as a deleted scene, or just a little detour. I do have my Royalty!Steve fic on my AO3, although I am hesitant in putting it on here as well, as I don't know what the reaction will be. If you'd like for me to also put my Royalty!Steve fic on here as well, let me know in the comments, reblogs, or slide into my DMs! Any and all feedback is encouraged.

As always, if you'd like to read Breathin on my AO3, you can read it here.

Word Count: 7,924

“Are you ready for today, my Queen?”

“I’m not a Queen yet, Monica.”

All Monica Rambeau did was give you a snicker. It seemed your personal maid liked teasing the idea of you being queen one day. You were married to the Crown Prince of Russia, James Romanov, after all. It had only been a month since the wedding, and you were still overwhelmed with the Crown Prince just as you had been when the two of you had first met at the gathering a few months ago.

“I know,” the African-American woman replied, “I just love the idea. You’d make a great queen.”

Yes, you thought sardonically to yourself, because I can’t do anything else.

You couldn’t fight. Command armies. None of that sort. You couldn’t run too much.

Because of your physical disability, you couldn’t do many physical activities. A limit, one could say.

Walks were okay. Hikes, you needed to pace yourself. A break here and there. Any long-form physical activity, your parents often limited.

You missed your parents so much.

And alright, Magda wasn’t your real mother. But you considered her your real mother. She raised you, after all. After your birth mother died and your father had remarried, Magda had been your mother ever since. She was a mother in every sense of the word. No ifs, ands, or buts. None. Nada.

Your parents had shown you love and allowed you your own space growing up. You loved Wanda and Pietro. Hell, you had even learned ASL when Pietro had gotten into that accident that made him lose most of his hearing. You missed your family. Ever since the wedding was over, they didn’t stay long. They had duties to do, people to see, a country to look over. They promised that they would keep in contact, though. A call once a week. Possibly once a month.

It wasn’t like you hated living in Russia. It was a walkable country. You liked walking around the castle grounds in the morning. The birds would chirp, and you would be able to get some fresh air before heading back inside and doing your daily duties.

So it wasn’t all terrible. You liked everyone in the castle. Rebecca and Natalia were very nice. They reminded you of Wanda. Fun, easy-going, very sassy. The three of you hung out as much as the three of you could, every day. Rebecca had her own lessons going on with her governess, Carol Danvers. And Natalia had her own things to do as Crown Princess. The second-in-line for the throne. In case there were something to happen to you or your now-husband, Natalia would take over as Queen. Not that you were a self-doubter of her skills. She could rule much better than you ever could. You were not all that confident in your skills.

Not really.

“What’s on the agenda today?” You asked Monica as she helped you dress. Grabbing the hairbrush that was on your vanity, Monica began to brush your hair as she answered you. “His Highness is going to meet with General Hammer this morning. And the locals would love to meet you, Your Highness. Perhaps a trip into the city?”

You couldn’t help the smile that was creeping on your lips.

“I heard the library is very nice. Is there any time for us to squeeze in a reading? Maybe with the children?”

The corners of Monica’s lips curled up into a smile. Finished with brushing your hair, she put the brush down after getting rid of the excess hair, throwing it in the trash can.

“I’ll see what I can do, Your Highness.”

With Bucky, a bit later…

He was getting agitated.

Irritated.

Angry.

Pissed off.

Annoyed.

All those words and more could dictate his current feelings.

Because as he sat down with General Justin Hammer, the Crown Prince of Russia was beginning to narrow his eyes.

Dressed in the usual black and red colors of the Ancient and Noble House of Romanov, completed with the smaller, but still regal crown that proclaimed him as Crown Prince, Bucky spoke.

“General Hammer… I believe we can reach a civil agreement with New Zealand. The queen and I are very civil with each other. I believe a discussion will do our current situation just fine. As for Great Britain, they have always been our allies. I know Queen Margaret Carter personally. I will talk to her as well.”

General Justin Hammer of America was resisting the urge to scowl.

Or maybe throw a fit.

Why was this metal-armed man, wearing the royal garb of the King Father and Queen Mother ordering him around? Telling him what to do?

Oh right.

Because the unfortunate young prince who had lost his left arm from a war a couple of years ago, James Romanov, was the Crown Prince. And the superior in this country. James Romanov was the Prince. And therefore, held a higher position than him. Why the King Father and Queen Mother allowed this cyborg into society baffled him. James was like a fuse, just wanting to be blown. A ticking bomb. Justin hadn’t seen the ends of James’s temper. He didn’t know what the Crown Prince could do. Would do.

James Romanov had a way with people. When he spoke, people listened. When he walked into a room, everyone knew who to look to. He commanded rooms without even having to raise his voice. Hell, when he spoke, he didn’t need to raise his voice. He was the General of the Army of Russia. People respected him. Did some worship the ground he walked on? Sometimes. It made him uncomfortable sometimes. Uneasy.

Back when he had been growing up, his father had handed him a sword and a spear and told him, “We serve our people, yes? These are our people. They depend on us. They will depend on you when your mother and I will no longer cease to be here. You have a responsibility, James. One day, you will sit where I will sit. One day, you will have children. Soon, your children will sit where you will sit. You will be a king. You will serve your country.”

And he did. He had been sent to the military academy with all the other young boys of Russia and served his country. Now he was the General. Not just the Crown Prince of Russia. He served his country. He was loyal to his country. He had even sacrificed his own left arm for his country.

Bucky couldn’t help but see his wedding ring on his finger. Just out of his eye. It glimmered. Shone. Reminded him that he was no longer a free spirit. A man who could whore around. He was tied down now. He was now your husband. You were his wife.

Everything was different now.

So different.

But it wasn’t like the marriage was all that bad. Sure, you had a mouth on you. You were a mouthy creature. Why his own mother had decided to bless upon him a mouthy, sexy creature like you, Bucky would never understand.

Women worked in mysterious ways.

A knock on the door made both of the men pause.

“Come in.”

The door opened, revealing Monica on the other side. She curtsied to her Crown Prince in respect.

“Her Highness told me to tell you that she plans to go into town today. Sam and I will be accompanying her.”

“Is her bodyguard going to go as well?’

Right.

Clint.

Clint Barton had been hired by your parents before the Maximoff family had come to Russia. You liked Clint. He had been in your family’s service for a while. He was deaf, like Pietro. He wore hearing aids in his ears after the accident that cost him eighty percent of his hearing. And, he also used sign language to communicate. Luckily for the family, you all knew sign language. So it was a no-brainer.

“Yes, Your Highness. Clint will be accompanying us on the trip.”

At least Bucky didn’t have to worry about it on that end. At least, Sam and Clint were going to be there with you while you went into town.

“How long will you be going outside?”

To that, Monica might’ve faltered a bit. Just the slightest bit.

“I… she didn’t say how long, Your Highness. Perhaps a few hours of fresh air?” was what Monica managed to reply.

“Alright. Anything else?”

“No, your Highness.”

“Dismissed.”

Monica curtsied one more time before leaving the room, the door closing quietly behind her.

His wife.

You.

His little, mouthy wife seemed to be arguing with him at every turn. Every time he snapped at you, you snapped right back at him. Always having something to clap back with.

Like last night.

“Are you just going to keep staring at me?”

From where Bucky was, he looked at you. You were looking at him.

And then you began to slowly scowl.

You weren’t going to admit it, but you were horny.

You needed him.

Badly.

You didn’t know what had caused these newfound feelings to bubble up inside of you.

It was like your damn wedding night all over again.

Stupid.

It was stupid, what these feelings were.

You didn’t like him.

You swore you didn’t.

You knew he didn’t like you. Bucky had made that clear. He hadn’t wanted this marriage at all. Neither had you. The two of you were strangers. Not at all like Steve and Mrs. Rogers. The two of you hadn’t met at a freaking wedding and hit it off immediately because the two of you were friendly towards each other.

No.

Instead, the two of you had met because your mother wanted you to get married. To secure alliances. To do your duty. No matter how much you hated it. You were the eldest daughter. Marrying you, securing an alliance with Russia and Transia was what had needed to be done. Now, with the rings on your fingers, it had been done.

“I know you need something. Tell me what you need.”

And when he spoke in that voice, that deep, rich voice had resonated within you, made your body burn, made your body hum with need, you hated it. Hated what he could do to you with such sweet, short, and simple words. For a moment, you had that passing thought that crept into your mind that your husband might actually care for you. That he actually liked you and didn’t just pretend to, or just put up with you because you two were married. In every sense of the word.

“I don’t need anything.”

Bucky put his book down. From where he was, sitting at the little table near the window where you frequented in the late afternoon, he got up. As he walked closer to where you were in bed, he could see through the transparent fabric of your nightgown. The little inches of smooth skin showing themselves to him as you scooted back. The swell of your breasts. The way every step he took towards you made your nipples harden, making themselves known under the flimsy material.

You couldn’t help yourself.

Your vagina was throbbing. You swallowed as your back hit the bedpost with a soft thunk. Your breath hitched when Bucky crawled on top of you, resting in between your legs. Looking up at you with his eyes that had turned dark. Goosebumps erupted on your body when he started to lift the material, folding it over and above your legs, stopping at your hips. Bunching it in the middle as his flesh hand pulled at your undergarments. Tugging at it roughly until the two of you heard a loud rip.

Shredded remains of what was your lacy undergarment were tossed to the floor as Bucky shoved your legs open, eyes full of fury as his gaze lowered, wandered down in between your legs, his gloved metal hand shoving your body down onto the bed.

Wet.

You were so wet.

Arousal was dripping down your thighs. You were panting below him, eyes burning with anticipation. Your legs spread even wider when Bucky dipped his head down, taking your clit into his mouth. His gloved metal hand continued to keep your body down, pinned to the bed as his flesh hand kept your legs spread apart.

Your entire body shuddered when he licked the inside of your thigh. Your thighs trembled as the metal hand gripped, tugged, twisted a hard nipple through the fabric of your nightgown.

“O-Oh… Ja… James…” you moaned out loud, your hands finding his chestnut locks, gripping, tangling themselves in his hair. Pulling. Tugging. Bucky hummed against your clit, the sensation making an electric current run through your body. His tongue licked up the length of your pussy, smearing your arousal around, tasting you. His cheeks and chin covered in you, his scruff brushing over your slippery pussy lips, adding even more friction against you as your hips began to move, grinding on his face roughly.

Your toes curled when you came. Crying out when you did, your body went taut. His metal hand gripped your breast tighter, making you whimper when you finally came back down, gathered your wits. But Bucky continued to take your clit into his mouth, kitten licking on your clit, moaning against your cunt. Taking and sucking your slippery wet lips. He smirked against your thighs again when he heard you coming with a sob, your second orgasm piggybacking off of your first one.

You were gasping when Bucky finally lifted his head, mouth, chin, and cheeks drenched in your arousal.

Seeing the bulge in his pants made you pause. It made you falter as your hands slowly reached out. However, a gloved hand stopped you. His metal hand gripped your wrists, a warning look in his eyes.

“No.”

It was simple. Cut-throat. Straight to the point. A feeling rushed through you. Cut the mood, just like that. Suddenly you felt empty again.

And just like that, the reality of your relationship came crashing back down.

Why had you allowed yourself to be so gullible? Why did you let him do that?

“Do you feel better?”

His voice was rough when he spoke to you. Slowly, you found yourself nodding.

“I… y-yes. I feel better. Thank you.” He gave you a curt nod before sliding off of you and getting up from the bed. The only piece of evidence that showed what just happened was the ripped-up lacy undergarment that was still on the floor. Realizing this, you pulled your nightgown back down and scampered out of bed, picking up the useless undergarment and throwing it away. When you managed to look at your husband, he was fastening his furs over him.

“Are you going out?” Your question came out a little skittish.

Your husband gave you a nod.

“Okay. You’re… you’re going to come back, right?” Bucky gave you a slightly astonished look. You wet your lips. “I-I mean,” you stammered, “we’re married. Married people share a bed, don’t they? I mean… St- King Rogers and his wife share a bed. Shouldn’t we?”

It was perfectly reasonable. Married couples shared beds all the time. People in relationships shared a bed sometimes too. Sharing a bed when you were attached in that sense was perfectly normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Bucky found himself nodding.

“Yes. Alright. That’s fine.” And then the door opened and closed. When Bucky eventually came back, he came back to your room. Just like how you asked. Did he wonder, maybe you’d like to stay with him in his room? The Crown Prince’s room was much bigger. Lots more space. But this, this would be fine. It would make do. You were sleeping on your back, softly snoring. The blankets had been kicked down. Your nightgown had ridden up again, showing some skin. His pants tightened. He swallowed when he crawled into your bed after he took off his furs, his shirt, and his pants.

Bucky slipped off his glove, putting it on the little nightstand on his side of the bed. Carefully, slowly, gently, he wrapped an arm around you. The metal one. You groaned in your sleep, shifting around. Bucky swallowed again nervously, blue eyes watching as you rolled over on your side, facing him. Your face in his bare chest. Snuggling up against him, a blissful look on your face.

You didn’t like him. You didn’t.

The two of you hadn’t had time to discuss it yesterday night. The two of you had been too busy. With you being busy with your individual schedules.

Besides, the two of you were just starting. You could talk about it later.

Yes. That was it. Later. It would wait until later.

“… Are you thinking of having children?”

Bucky looked over at General Hammer. A perplexed look on his face. The idea was laughable. Absurd.

Why would he want to bring someone like him into this world?

Bucky had failed his country when he had lost his arm. He wasn’t valuable anymore. Some people looked at him strangely. Other people, when seeing him, would whisper about him. Vasily Karpov remarked that even though he had lost an arm, at least his cock still worked. He could still provide heirs, but no woman would want a man with one flesh arm and a metal one. Who would put themselves through the pain of loving a broken man like him?

They didn’t understand.

Father. Mother. Rebecca. Natalia. Sam.

They just didn’t understand.

They didn’t understand what it felt like, to lose a limb. To have to look at yourself in the mirror before every shower, to see the evidence that had flipped his entire world upside down.

He wasn’t that same man anymore. He wasn’t that same, smooth-talking prince. He was broken like a puzzle, unable to put the pieces together again.

It was hard. It was frustrating. Bucky was so angry these days.

No one understood. No one could understand.

No one.

“My wife and I are still in the honeymoon stages of our marriage. We haven’t really discussed children quite just yet, General.”

Smooth and calculated. Justin Hammer felt like a vein was going to pop from his forehead.

He had been convinced, just for a second.

It was no wonder why Bucky’s subjects adored him. Even though he was harsher now, harder, he was still kind to his subjects. Listened to them. Sympathized with them. It wasn’t uncommon to see him being around children and in town. He served his country and had a soft spot for children. It would’ve made any single woman flock towards him.

But not with his metal arm now.

No.

Not now.

“You know, Your Highness,” Justin began to speak, and Bucky didn’t miss the way he nearly spat out the title, his eyes narrowing slightly, “I heard from my wife that your little wife that she entertains the company of her bodyguard very much. Clint Barton, right?”

Bucky’s jaw was beginning to tighten.

You and Clint were just friends. That was what you had told him. That the two of you were just purely friends, and nothing more. Did you enjoy Clint’s company? Of course. He was a friend. One that you treasured. You liked Clint’s sense of humor. He was more than a bodyguard to you. A well and trusted friend.

“And I doubt she could possibly carry your child,” He said the word “your” like it disgusted him. Bucky was seething. Justin remained unbothered, or maybe he was just stupid, so he continued.

“With the way she walks, limping like that? There’s no way she’d carry it to full term.”

Something inside Bucky snapped.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t patient.

He was.

But he had no tolerance for bullies.

Much like someone he knew. Preferably known as a little punk.

It happened so quickly.

He had gotten up from his chair.

His metal hand had shot out. Vibranium fingers curled around his throat, and the Crown Prince had slammed him right against the drywall. The slam was loud that some people who had been lurking around the hallway had stopped.

Something was wrong.

Heels echoed down the hall as Justin tried hard to get some air in his lungs.

Bucky usually wasn’t violent.

But this… this gremlin talking to him, using such a disgusted tone when speaking about you.. it made his blood boil.

His feet kicked. His hand tried to desperately claw at Bucky’s metal arm.

“Don’t you dare insult my wife like that again. I will not be this merciful next time. If I ever hear you or your wife insulting my wife, I will use violence. Do you understand?”

Nods. Frantic nods. Justin managed to gasp out air. It was around the same time that Carol Danvers, Rebecca’s governess came into the room, the door opening loudly with a clang as she stumbled in. Her eyes were wide.

“Carol,” Bucky greeted her, his tone cold, “can you please escort General Hammer out? I believe our meeting is over.”

Later that day, in the Royal Library…

Word had traveled fast. When you had gotten back to the castle from town, a maid was already running up to you, blabbing in Russian about how the “Crown Prince had lost control and had nearly strangled General Hammer because he had been speaking ill about you.” It had made you rush inside, ignoring Monica’s shouts that you needed to dress in comfier clothing, due to the light snowfall today.

Sadly, your husband had been preoccupied. So, you could not speak to him.

Bucky had found you in the royal library later after he had asked Natalia where you had gone. She had pointed in the direction of the royal library. He had thanked his sister before taking off.

And there you were. When he opened the door, he saw you. Seated at a table with your nose in a book. As per usual, when you had been home in Transia. Even there, it hadn’t changed.

You hadn’t noticed him coming until it was a little too late. Your chair had been pulled back with the help of his metal arm. Then, you had looked up at the intruder.

Your eyes went wide.

So you did the next best thing.

You whacked him on the head with your book.

“Ow!” exclaimed Bucky in surprise. He rubbed at his head.

So you did it again. And again. And again.

“Ow, ow, ow! Will you stop that?!” Bucky yelled. All you did was scowl. Maybe snarl too. So, he wasn’t taken aback when you snapped at him. “Why the hell did you attack Hammer earlier? He’s a General, James! Have you no tact?”

“He’s a foreigner,” was what Bucky snapped back in reply. Your scowl became deeper.

You had not wanted to fight with your husband.

Especially not with what had happened last night.

Nope.

You had not wanted this at all.

“I don’t care if he’s a foreigner! I don’t care if he was Yahweh himself! You’re supposed to treat him with respect James! Or has no one taught you manners before? Have you forgotten your manners?” You were raising your voice now, starting to get pissed off.

“He was insulting you!” Bucky bellowed.

“He was- what?”

A look of pure bewilderment was on your face. Bucky was taking in deep breaths.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

In and out.

Breathe.

“He was insulting you,” Bucky seethed, now having switched to English due to his anger taking over, “he said it was impossible for your carry a child to full term by the way you walk.”

He was not about to bring up Clint. He didn’t want to throw more gasoline on the dumpster fire that was the morning’s incident.

“Oh. You mean my limping?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened.

And then the surprise was shown on his face.

The way you spoke of it so causally, so gently, so out-of-the-blue… like it didn’t bother you… it puzzled him.

How could you be so calm with this? How?

“Of course, I limp sometimes, James. It’s apart of what happened with me and my surgery. My surgery didn’t guarantee I to be walking like Jesus himself on water. Of course, I will slip up sometimes. But it’s alright. It’s okay. I don’t have a problem with it, James. I really don’t.”

Now Bucky was convinced someone had knocked you right on the head. Tooth right on the nail.

You had truly lost it.

“You’re… not offended?” He was shocked. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, James. It does sting, I won’t lie to you. I don’t like it when people talk badly of me. Especially in front of my husband.”

My husband. The way you spoke those words… those two words… it made something stir in him. He walked closer to you, plopping himself down on the desk. Facing you. Looking at you straight in the eyes.

His hands were cupping your face. Gripping your jaw with his gloved metal hand, so you could look up at him. When your hands went down to his pants again, fingertips brushing against the hem of his pants, you asked him gently, “Is this okay?”

Was it okay?

It was more than okay.

It was good.

A nod told you that it was okay to proceed. But you just wanted to make sure.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Bucky had never been more ready, so sure of something ever in his life.

Pop.

Unbuttoning his pants, you pulled the zipper down.

Just like your wedding night, Bucky had gone commando.

Again.

“I’m starting to think you just don’t enjoy wearing boxer briefs,” your retort made him snicker a little.

“No,” he replied, in full agreement with you, “I really don’t.”

Bucky was thick. Long. Uncut. It had been a struggle to fit himself inside of you that first night. And just like that first night, you were going to struggle to put it in your mouth. With his pants being tugged down, to the point where you had actually gotten them off, your hands reached for him. Pushing back his foreskin, revealing his shaft. Twin globes rested on his thighs as you cupped them with one hand, and your other hand brushed over his sac before your thumb brushed over his testicles.

Bucky let out a hiss of pleasure. His hiss turned into a groan when you took him in your mouth. Moaning in appreciation. Because oh boy, did you appreciate it.

Flesh and gloved metal hands sank into your hair, gripping it just like how you did the previous night. Profanities spewed from his lips when your tongue swirled against the blunt head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was already gathering there.

Salty. Not too bad.

A hand reaching up to grip his shaft, you took more and more of him in your mouth. When the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, your gag reflex kicked in. You gagged. How could you not? He was big. You knew your jaw was going to be sore once this was over.

Your mouth moved up and down. Your saliva smearing onto his cock. Some even dribbling down the corners of your mouth as you inhaled his cock. Taking him deeper and deeper each time. All the while your hand pumped his shaft.

Bucky hissed your name. He hissed other things too. Gasps and groans coming from him as he tugged and pulled on your hair, coaxing you to go deeper.

For the first time in his life, Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last.

“… Shit… ‘m gonna cum,” your husband told you. A hum around his cock was your only reply as Bucky came with a shout, shooting his load down your throat.

You nearly choked. And coughed. But you took it in stride. You tried to swallow every last drop, but when you pulled your mouth from his cock, some dribbled down the corners of your mouth, mixed in with your spit.

For a moment, all the two of you could do was look at each other.

You had regained your voice first.

“Do you feel better?”

Did he feel better?

Somewhat.

As Bucky got off of the desk, pulling his pants back on, he thought.

For just a split second, he wanted to be in you again. Wanted to pull you over the desk and take you He’d make you feel so good too. All he wanted to do to you in that moment was shove your dress up, pull your panties down to your ankles, and throw you over the desk and make you scream.

But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Yes. Come, I think Rebecca was asking for you.”

He never got to see the disappointed look on your face.

He was feeling it again.

Throughout dinner, Winifred Barnes Romanov was looking at her son like she was going to cut his head off. You kept quiet, silently snickering at the annoyed look on Bucky’s face.

He just knew his mother was going to give him an earful later.

But right now, he watched you take a glass of wine and put it to your lips.

Alright. He could admit it to himself- he was trying to distract himself.

Keyword being trying.

It was torture. Pure torture. You were determined to torture him, it seemed. Bucky was eyeing the v-neck of your dress, silently admiring the way it was showing off your skin. He could feel his pants tightening. Narrowing his eyes and quietly seething, he was thinking again.

He should’ve asked you. He should’ve asked you if you had wanted sex.

And now look at him. Getting a horrible case of the blue balls because he couldn’t use his brain properly. What kind of man was he? Not a good one. He couldn’t even ask you if you wanted sex.

Maybe Vasily was right. Maybe he didn’t deserve you. Maybe you two should’ve just made an heir for the people. Not for your own sake of happiness, like Steve and his wife.

For once, Bucky wished he could’ve been like Steve. Why couldn’t he be nicer like Steve? Why couldn’t he keep his temper in control like Steve? Why couldn’t he treat you like how Steve treated Mrs. Rogers?

Why couldn’t he be more like Steve?

The thought made him grit his teeth together as he ate. His temper slowly curling around him, building and building. The seed was planted. The only thing he needed more was someone to feed it.

Later, after dinner, Bucky could feel like he could actually take a breather.

Almost.

Because Natalia was sneaking upon him. By the time he realized that it was her footsteps nearly towards him, it was too late. The redhead Princess was looking at her big brother with a narrowed expression in her eyes.

“What?” Bucky bit at her. “If you’re looking to chew me out, Natalia, don’t. Mother’s already done it. I don’t need it from you too.”

“She was asking for you. Your wife. She’s in her room.”

Bucky took off faster than someone shooting him out of a cannon. He shouted his thanks to his younger sister and immediately went to his room.

And there you were. Dressed in another one of your nightgowns, one that Bucky saw that was transparent again. Just like last night. His pants were tightening at the sight. You had left your lamp on your nightstand. Dim light was pouring into the room.

Get your head together. He snapped at himself internally.

Putting your tablet down and rolling over on your side so you could face him from where he was in the doorway, you asked, “Did Natalia find you? Or did you come in here yourself, husband dearest?”

Bucky panted. He closed your bedroom door behind him, locking it. You saw him take off his boots. Walking closer towards your bed, you heard him respond. Unlike earlier, he wasn’t wearing his crown. His shoulder-length chestnut hair was a little messy. Untamed. You could see he still hadn’t shaved his ever-growing scruff.

“Natalia found me.” Your lips pursed.

“Uh-huh.”

You could admit it to yourself.

You were still a little bit angry.

Bucky didn’t need to do that for you. Why did he have to have General Hammer in a chokehold like that? Why did he have to do that? How could he do that? You didn’t need him to protect you, for fuck’s sake!

You were getting angry. Bucky could tell by the irritated look on your face.

“We need to talk.”

Your irritating look turned into a full-on glare.

“No, we don’t.”

Bucky was resisting the urge. Resisting the urge to shout. It was bubbling up in him.

“Yes we do,” Bucky hissed, “You don’t look happy. I know you aren’t happy with me.”

“Of course I’m not happy with you!”

You had flung the blankets over you. Your legs hooking over on your side of the bed, allowing you to get up. You stomped over to him, nearly shoving him. But Bucky just stood there and took it. He knew you were angry. But so was he.

“You held an American General in a chokehold, for goodness sake, James! America is our biggest ally! You know King Steve personally! Do you know what will happen to your reputation now? It’ll be ruined! They won’t trust you!” You shouted at him.

“You don’t think I know that?” Bucky fired back at you, beginning to get angry again. “You don’t think I don’t know what they say about me? What they say about this?” Almost angrily, he yanked off his glove that hid his metal arm, nearly shoving it in your face. “How they call me incompetent? How I won’t be a ruler? How I won’t be able to serve my fucking country and how I’m going to raze it into the ground? Or do you want me to tell you about how Vasily Karpov remarked that at least I can still use my cock and put a fucking child in you? But sure, let’s talk about Hammer and how I put him in a chokehold because he talked horrible about my wife and ‘I need to keep my temper in check!’”

Smack.

Bucky had the decency to look surprised. A look of pure disbelief appeared on his face.

And then his eyes hardened.

He took a step towards you. You took a step back, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

Too far. You had gone too far.

“James, I-”

He didn’t know what had overcome him. His hands reached out to grip your jaw, his lips covering yours in an angry frenzy.

He was kissing you.

And you weren’t complaining.

This was okay.

This was more than okay. You needed this. He needed this too. Your hands had found his chestnut locks, gripping them, grabbing, tugging, pulling him closer to you as his tongue poked at your lips. Your mouth opened, allowing Bucky to explore your mouth. He was pulling you into a deeper kiss, sucking on your tongue like he was in between your thighs again. Familiar wetness was piling, dripping down your thighs.

Your hands were gripping at his shirt, almost clawing at the black and red tunic that your husband was wearing. Bucky’s hands- both metal and flesh, went lower, all the way down, gripping the flesh of your ass in his hands. Almost good enough to leave bruises.

“Say it,” he breathed out into your mouth, looking at you with dark eyes, “Tell me you want it. I’ll do it, doll. I’ll fuck you. Fuck you how you like.”

It was getting too good to ignore. You were finding it hard to deny him. He was your husband, after all. Grudgingly, you could admit it to yourself. You were growing fond of him. Of course, you cared about him. He was your husband. You wore his ring. You two were in this for the long run, whether if the two of you liked it or not.

But love?

No.

Never.

You didn’t love him.

Not like how your parents loved each other. You two didn’t give each other longing looks. You two didn’t say “I love you” to each other in private. Hell, you hadn’t even said those words yet. But they made something churn in you. Like a knife in your back, twisting and turning.

You didn’t love this man.

You didn’t.

“Okay.”

Your nightgown was pulled, yanked over your head, and tossed to the floor. Bucky was hoping his self-control would take. Would stay. Because by the looks of your naked body underneath, his control was going to snap like a wire being cut.

Nothing. You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath your nightgown. Had you always slept this way? Or had it been just recently? Whatever it was, Bucky didn’t think on it any further because he had hoisted you over his shoulder, picking you up effortlessly like it was nothing. Like you were nothing but putty in his hands. You landed on your bed with a shriek.

The sounds of Bucky’s plates on his metal arm moving had garnered your attention. Your arms had reached out for him, for the buttons on his tunic. Walking over to you, leaning over, he obliged.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

His tunic was thrown somewhere in your room. Where you had no clue. And you weren’t really caring right now.

You needed him. You just needed him inside of you. Nothing else. You didn’t want him to coddle you. You didn’t want him to cuddle you. To hold you tight. You had to keep reminding yourself that you weren’t in love with him. Because you weren’t. You swore you were not.

When your hands traveled lower, like in the library, to pop off the button of his pants, he allowed you.

Pop.

And then you were unzipping his pants. Just like in the library.

The library.

Maybe he’d do it next time. Maybe he’d do it. Maybe he’d bend you over and take you from behind like how he wanted to do earlier.

Next time. Next time he’d do it.

But not right now.

His pants were shoved to the floor almost angrily by you. You were looking up at him, your gaze almost scathing.

“Are you going to do it or not?’

He shoved you. Like, shoved you, shoved you. A shrill noise came from you as Bucky opened your nightstand, fumbling around. Trying to search for it. He snapped at you to hold your wrists up when he managed to find the silk scarves that you had started wearing due to the cold weather. Your wrists went up. You watched him almost like a hawk. Feeling the wrists being tied to your bedpost.

You wiggled your wrists.

“Good?” his voice was rough.

“Yeah.”

“Open your mouth.”

Your mouth opened. With another silk scarf he had gotten from your nightstand, he tied it around your mouth from keeping you from making any noise. A metal finger tapped the gag and you made a noise. It was muffled due to the gag. Bucky leaned back, satisfied.

“Stay there.”

It wasn’t like you could move the upper half of your body anyway. You couldn’t. You were trapped from the waist up. And if you kicked at him, he’d hold you down. Worse, he might’ve tied your feet down to the bed too. Then you wouldn’t be able to move your body at all. You’d be all spread out for him. At his mercy. Unable to do anything.

Surprisingly, you weren’t against the idea.

Slipping the blindfold over your eyes, all you saw was darkness. Pitch black.

Bucky heard you say something that was muffled against the gag.

By the time he hooked his knees under your thighs, pushing back the foreskin of his cock, revealing his erection, it was too late. You were still speaking, nay, yelling something at him through the gag, probably something along the lines of, “how dare you to tell me what to do,” or, “you’re such a little asshole.” He was spreading your legs apart roughly. You were about to say something else, maybe a snide comment, but Bucky pushed his cock fully inside of you. Filling you up to the brim. A muffled noise came from your gag.

Bucky was thrusting into you, pulling out of you, only leaving the tip of his cock in you, swirling the head of his cock on your slippery lips, before slamming right back in. Every thrust sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head. His teeth sank into one breast, taking your hardened nipple into your mouth. Both of his hands were holding your thighs in place, all spread out so he could continue fucking into you. Get deeper into you.

This was okay.

This was what he needed, what he wanted back in the library.

He wanted to be in you. To feel you. To be surrounded by you. And only you.

With every thrust, your body bounced. You couldn’t sink your fingers in your hair due to the restraints. Muffled noises of pleasure were coming from your gag. Your saliva was soaking up your gag, making it harder and harder for you to say anything. Bucky bathed your tit until it was wet, and your nipple ached. Then he moved to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. You were swearing and sobbing behind your gag.

You were wet.

So wet.

Wetter than you ever thought possible.

Bucky had come first.

He was just so hard.

So painfully hard. Achingly hard. When he came in you, he swore loudly in Russian. So loud he might’ve alerted one of the Kingsguard or Queensguard that was on duty.

He came in you, coating your achingly wet pussy walls with his seed.

But Bucky didn’t really care.

He needed you again. He needed to cum in you again. Again and again.

His cock was hitting your g-spot so well. So good. So well, so good that you were half convinced that his cock was going to split your pussy in half.

This.

This was what he had needed all day.

This.

Being in you. Feeling you. You could feel every vein, every ridge of his cock in you. It felt so good.

His mind wasn’t clear yet. The fog hadn’t lifted.

Cause okay, he was hard as a rock. His hand, his Vibranium hand slipped into your pussy, all wet and slimy, and rubbed your clit. Coating his metal fingers in your fluids.

You came screaming. Your scream muffled behind your gag. You tried to move your wrists but remembered that they were tied. Tears were springing in your eyes. You still couldn’t see anything.

You wanted to touch him.

You really did.

But you remembered.

Remembered his words to you on your wedding night.

I don’t want you to see my metal arm. I don’t want you to touch it.

Metal fingers wet, slippery with your slickness, his metal hand wandered, went lower, and traveled backward to your backside. A finger slipped through, sinking into the tight ring of muscle. A muffled noise came from you. One of surprise. You couldn’t widen your eyes in surprise. It didn’t feel weird. Just something you weren’t used to.

His breath brushed against the shell of your ear. Making you shiver and squirm.

He snarled.

“I am your husband.”

A harsh thrust. Another muffled shout.

“You are my wife.”

A scream came from you. Your eyes got even more watery behind your blindfold.

“I will defend you any way I like. Do you understand? Tell me you understand.”

You couldn’t say anything. How could you? Your mouth was gagged. Even if you wanted to say something, you would’ve preferred it not being when you were getting railed into like your life depended on it.

A loud smack against your thigh made you cry out behind your gag.

Good enough for him.

When his cock bumped against your cervix, you came.

Your pussy clenched down onto his cock for the last time. Gripping his dick like a vice. Bucky swore when he felt you cumming. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. A frustrated groan leaving his lips.

Still, he continued to pound into you. Wanting to chase his orgasm.

This was okay. He just needed to cum. That was it.

That was all.

It was nothing else.

Nope.

Absolutely nothing.

How he kept going, kept fucking into you, you didn’t know. Until you could feel him slipping his metal finger out of you, you didn’t know when he came. But when his teeth sank into the bare line of your throat, he came. He pulled your pelvis close to him, teeth sinking into your throat. Filling you up. Marking you in the most primal way possible when the movement came from his hips. He slowly lifted himself from your body, slowly pulled himself out of you. The tingly scent of blood in the air. Now having emptied himself inside of you, he gently pulled his cock out of your gushing cunt. A wet noise echoed.

For a moment, the fog in his head cleared. Lifted. He managed to gather his senses. Bucky looked down to see you, all blissed out. Fully satisfied. Something burned, moved inside of him. Made his stomach turn. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. His heart pounded in his chest.

That weird feeling was settling in again.

Bucky had that split-second thought of touching you with his metal hand. To allow you to feel his metal arm.

Immediately, he shook his head at the thought.

What was he thinking? He didn’t like you like that. Of course, you were his wife. But that was it. You were his wife on paper. In the eyes of the public. That was all. He didn’t love you.

As he untied the binds on your wrists and took the gag out of your mouth, you massaged your jaw. For a moment, he thought he might’ve gone just a little hard this time. But then you stretched. After he got up and cleaned everything up, he spoke.

“Did you like it?”

To which you cocked your head in confusion.

“Huh?”

“The sex. Did you like it?”

Oh.

Your mind had been foggy. But now, it was clear. You nodded.

“Yeah. I liked it.”

The mattress sunk a little as Bucky got back into bed. He didn’t hold you. But he was looking at you.

“Good.”

You reached over to turn off the light. Then you slumped back over.

“Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight.”

Bucky was left laying on his back. Looking up at the ceiling. He could hear some footsteps shuffling outside from whoever was on duty tonight.

It happened again.

You had shifted over in your sleep, rolling over on your side, from where you had been sleeping on your back. Your head had nestled in his chest, just like last night.

The strange feeling was back again. All Bucky could do was look at you. His eyes were beginning to shine. He could feel his throat tightening. His eyes started to burn. Water with tears. Almost immediately, his hands came to wipe them away.

He shook his head as he relaxed against you.

He didn’t like you.

He didn’t love you.

He didn’t.

Not really.

Not at all.

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting, @hawsx3

#royalty!bucky barnes x princess!female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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