#the thing you dread the most on your chest is highly noticeable

[justagirlwholikesadam]

S & K : The Queen's Guards

Sandor Clegane x Fem!Reader x Kylo Ren

Summary: After being named heir to the throne, your father brings you two men to be your guards.

Warning: NSFW, cursing, kissing, we are fucking them ladies, throuple because why not!

A/N: TBH this fanfic was never going to see the light of day because i was so nervous how people would react but I haven't seen a Sandor x Kylo fanfic so fuck it. Here ya'll go, enjoy! -L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Word Count: 9.9K

You were grateful that you have been bestowed with two guards to protect you. They were given the order to follow your every move and stay by your side since your father named you heir to the throne. Most were happy that you were heir while others condemned it to be the most horrific thing known. A woman sitting on the throne was a joke for them.

Blessed to have a father like yours, he quieted the people that had doubts and reminded them that his word is law.

At first you dreaded the idea of two unknown men in your company but your father insisted since they were the best. While being introduced to them you will never forget how they stared down at you with their dark eyes. You couldn't help but blush under their gaze. You learned that they were both second born sons and that they didn't have much but they were highly skilled. They were new to the kingdom and looking to offer their service. They had gotten through your father’s difficult test and proven their loyalty to him. They were both granted to protect and serve you.

The first guard was named Sandor Clegane. He was the tallest and the oldest. Your father had mentioned to you about his appearance before arriving. Sandor's right side of his face was burned. You were a bit relieved when you saw him for yourself because your father made it seem like Sandor was a grotesque monster but he wasn't. The unburnt side of Sandor’s face was handsome. He had a thick brow and brown eyes. His hair was long down to his neck, he had parted his hair to the side to mask the burn side of his face. He had facial hair, his beard and mustache were thick and dark.

The second guard was named Kylo Ren. Kylo was tall but fell a few feet shorter than Sandor. Kylo gave you a smile when he first saw you. His plushy lips twisted upward at you. He had long dark locks that went down to his shoulders. His beard and mustache was neatly trimmed then Sandor’s. Beauty marks were splattered on his face and he was leaner than the older guard.

Small talks between your father and you occur as they continue to stare at you.

“I do this for your safety, my dear. One day all of this will be yours and there are people out there that will try to take it away from you.” Your father walked in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“I accept them.” You told him.

Your father stood behind you as Sandor and Kylo kneel in front of you and swore their allegiance, their protection to the heir to the throne. Something melted in your chest at the sight of these men kneeling in front of you. Many had knelt in front of you but these two had sparked something in you.

The first week was the hardest, since they were going to follow you everywhere to get to know your routines. You decided to get to know them more. You found out Kylo was more social than Sandor.

Sandor kept to himself, mostly drinking a cup of wine while Kylo talked about himself. You found out Kylo had a twin brother named Ben. Kylo was the second twin born. You gave your condolences to Kylo when he mentioned that Ben died at war.

Kylo was flirtatious with everyone and he was charming when he wanted. You noticed wandering eyes from the servants looking up and down at him while serving the meals and drinks. Some servants who weren’t afraid of Sandor tried to talk to him but he ignored them or just told them to ‘fuck off.’

It was a month later when you found out more about Sandor's life. Kylo had left to do a task for your father so it was just both of you. You were sitting down on the loveseat in the library while Sandor stood by the entrance. After a few minutes of begging the tall man to sit down with you, he obeyed. Finally able to wear out his cold exterior, Sandor told you about his life and how he got hurt. His older brother had pushed his face against the burning coal of the fire when he was a child. His older brother was still alive and causing havoc far away from here.

Sandor had come to this place for a fresh start in life. Sandor’s body tensed when he felt you grab his hand. He wanted to curse at you for touching him but he couldn't, not when you were looking up at him like that. You looked at him like he was a normal man, you looked at him as you looked at Kylo.

“Thank you for telling me.” You told him as you pulled his hand on to your lap. His breathing came to a halt when you began to play with his fingers. Your thumb glides across his hard knuckles. You couldn’t help but smile when you compare your hands along with his. They were huge, they completely covered yours.

“My father said a good man should have rough hands. It means he’s a hard worker. I know for a fact you are a good and hardworking man.” Sandor was shocked by your compliment. He rarely got compliments back home. This was new for him, he didn’t know how to react. He just kept looking at you as you caressed his hand on your lap.

He finally had the courage to say something when the door of the library opened. He quickly ripped his hand away from your grasp as he stood up from the loveseat. He was about to draw his weapon but stopped when he saw it was Kylo. He ignored your stares as he walked away back to the doors. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten so distracted by you. A simple touch from you and he let his guard down.

Sandor and Kylo took turns when it came guarding you at night. You had told them that it’s outrageous to have someone standing guard at your door during the night but they simply told you that it’s their duty to protect you know matter what time of the day.

It had taken Sandor a week for you to finally convince him to come inside your room and take a seat on a chair so he could rest his legs. He had mentioned to you that he had injured his leg back home. It took a month for Kylo to finally come inside your room during the night and sit on the same chair as Sandor.

Kylo kept quiet while sitting near the fireplace. Kylo had to admit you were the nicest person he’s ever guarded. You always had a pitcher of water and a couple of books in the Latin language for him. He had mentioned to you once that he adores reading in Latin and the very next day you have gotten books for him. One night you couldn’t sleep, you tossed and turned in your bed. It was Kylo’s turn guarding you that night. He had seen that you were unable to sleep and had suggested reading to you in Latin. You knew nothing of the language, but hearing his soft, deep voice relaxed you. After a few minutes of him reading out loud to you, you were fast asleep

What you didn’t know was that as soon as you were asleep. Kylo and Sandor couldn’t help but look at you. They stood by the end of the bed. They envy the sheets and blankets that touched your body. Whenever it was Sandor’s turn he was too frightened to even touch you so he stared. He felt so unworthy to even touch you. He wanted to touch the hand that touched him. You had no problem grabbing onto him whenever he guarded you during the day. You don’t even ask permission to hold his hand or his arm. He felt like he needed permission from the Gods themselves to even touch you.

Kylo looks over at you when he hears soft snoring. He carefully gets up trying not to make a sound as he walks to your bed. He knew it was wrong to touch you while you were sleeping but he couldn’t help it. He enjoys the touch of your hair. It was soft to him, with shaky hands he touches your fingers as well. His lips tremble to kiss them. Kylo admits he’s a sinner, he’s always been one. He was always in the company of women to feel something. To feel whole but it never worked but being in your company was something else. Something pure and something out of love.

As the days became months and the months had become years it was two years since Kylo and Sandor became your guards. They knew their job was going to get harder when your father became ill. He was unfit to be king anymore and because of it, people in the realm started to second guess your father’s decision of choosing you as the heir to the throne.

It had happened so quickly when your father was bedridden when a lord from a house had spoken out.

“Let me remind you of this, Lord Peter of House Mancen.” Sandor watched as you stood up from your seat. He wanted to cut this man's head off for barging in and disrupting the council's meeting.

“Two years ago, the King of this realm had appointed me as the heir of the throne.” Kylo watched as you walked towards the man while you spoke.

“It is my duty, my birthright and my throne. Let this be known and tell anyone who has doubts. I will be queen, I will rule and I will defend my throne from anyone who is stupid enough to try and take it away from me.”

Lord Peter of House Mancen frowned as you walked back to your seat. Sandor and Kylo were quick to move when they saw the man reach for something.

“Stop.” You shouted. Kylo and Sandor froze as well as the Lord.

“This is your last and only warning, Lord Peter of House Mancen. Speak out of turn or betray me, I will end you. I will end your house and I will end your family. I will make your house disappear, I promise you that.”

“Shut the door on your way out.” You said when the Lord didn’t speak. He bowed at you and walked out, shutting the door behind him. The council continued and ended successfully. You didn’t notice how Sandor and Kylo looked proud at you from behind.

The proud look on their faces turned into pity when your father had passed in his sleep two days later. Sandor and Kylo had put their differences aside even though they worked together for two years now, they still had a few issues among themselves. They did it when you became depressed the first few days after your father’s death. Only your ladies-in-waiting entered in and out of your chambers. Sandor and Kylo couldn’t help but feel a bit sad at the fact you didn’t want to see them. They heard your cries and the voices of your ladies-in-waiting consoling you behind your chambers door.

A week after they were allowed to enter your chambers. It was the day of your coronation, they stood in awe as you stood in front of your mirror. You looked over your shoulder at them. You turned to face them and greeted them with a small smile.

“Forgive me, Sandor and Kylo. I haven’t been myself these few days. I was embarrassed of both of you seeing me in such a state.”

Kylo shook his head. “No need to be embarrassed. I..” Kylo stuttered for a moment and quieted down.

“Speak.” You said softly looking at him. Sandor eyed the brunette and knew what he was going to say. They had talked before entering your chambers.

“I know we are your guards but I would like for you to think of us as..” Kylo’s cheek grew red as he couldn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t help himself. You looked so beautiful in front of them.

“Friends.” Sandor spoke, finishing Kylo’s sentence. Sandor felt the same way. “You can think of us as close friends, perhaps. If you like.”

They watched as your smile grew and walked closer to them. Without a word you grabbed one of their hands and gently gave them a squeeze.

“Yes, I would like that very much.” Looking up at them, you give them a smile. Before any of them can respond, you bring Kylo’s hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss on his knuckles. You did the same with Sandor’s hand.

Kylo and Sandor knew nothing more could happen between you and them. You were to be queen and they were just simply guards. No relationship can come from it but your kiss, a simple gesture made their hearts blossom for you. They were utterly in love with you.

The coronation was beautiful. They stood on either side at the bottom steps of the throne as they watched you walk down the aisle. You wore a white and red dress with a long cape trailing behind you. You walked with poise and your head held high as everyone stood by the sidelines. You were nervous, you were frightened that something would happen. You looked ahead at the two pairs of brown eyes and you felt confident. Kylo had told you that they made sure no one had a weapon with them. Sandor had his own men guarding each entrance of the grand hall.

You felt safe as you sat down on your throne and the crown was placed on your head. The people cheered with glee as you were announced the Queen. Kylo and Sandor walked up the steps and bow, taking their place behind you.

The sight of you sitting down with two large, virile men standing on either side of you looked like a painting. Their eyes were dark and narrowed as they stared at the crowd. Their silver armor they wore was polished, the red cape hung from their broad shoulders was a bright red, the color of the Queen’s guards.

A year has passed and many have come to terms that you were queen. Few had their doubts and it made you angry. You were honorable and merciful. You kept Kylo and Sandor as your personal guards. Since you became queen, they were the only people you trusted with your life. They were your only friends and your only true companion.

Kylo remained coquet. You often listen to your ladies-in-waiting gossiping about seeing Kylo with another lady. Part of you didn’t mind it, he was a guard, a friend nothing more but he would compliment you and make you feel like you were the only woman in the world. He made you blush and feel warm inside.

The feeling was the same with Sandor. You feel his gaze when he guards you. Unlike Kylo, Sandor was quieter and kept to himself. He talked only when spoken to. He tended to keep to himself but whenever bothered he had a vile tongue. Just when you thought you were making progress by breaking down Sandor’s wall to finally make him feel comfortable with you it would blow up in your face. A simple touch, he would draw back. If you got close to him, you saw how his lips were pressed together into a frown. Sandor had his good and bad days and Kylo knew that. He would bother Sandor when he noticed the older guard in a mood just for kicks.

They didn't get along, they were like cats and dogs and while Sandor kept to himself Kylo was more open with everyone. Sandor rolls his eyes every time Kylo would flirt whenever they passed by a woman. Somedays he would yell at Kylo to shut the fuck up. Kylo was too cocky and always had a smirk which Sandor hated.

“Are you done looking at her?” Kylo looked over his shoulder as Sandor stood guard by the door. He rolled his eyes at Sandor and went back to the same position as Sandor. His back to the door.

“Just making sure she’s alright.” Sandor scoffs at Kylo’s words.

“Trying to get a peek more like it, you ass.” Kylo clenched his jaw.

“Like you haven't tried it.” Kylo answered back, making Sandor turn to him with a frown.

“Don't try to deny it. I see how you look at her. You probably think about her whenever you're alone.”

“Fuck you.” Sandor snarled at him as he looked away from Kylo. Embarrassment washed over Sandor, he always made sure Kylo never saw him staring at you.

Kylo let out a chuckle. “It’s like you think you might have a chance with her. We are nobody compared to her.”

“Even if we were somebody, I doubt she will pick yo-” Sandor quickly pushed Kylo against the wall with his arm against Kylo’s throat. Kylo let out a gasp as Sandor pushed his arm harder against his neck. Kylo looked up at the man and Sandor gave him a scowl.

“Do you want to end up like your brother?” Sandor hissed, making Kylo glare at him at the mention of his deceased brother.

“Fuck you.” Kylo said with a hoarse voice. His face was about to turn red but Sandor let him go. Kylo coughed as he held his neck with his hands while looking at Sandor walking back to his post.

“If she had to pick it would be me-”

You were about to thank the seamstress as she took notes of your measures when you heard shouting. You quickly walked out of the room and looked down the hall to see your guards fighting each other. Their swords banged each other as they shouted. You looked between them as Kylo yells at him. Sandor was stronger though and got Kylo to fall on his back but Kylo was quicker and blocked Sandor’s steel that was aiming for his head.

“Enough.” You shouted as you walked towards them. They stopped at the sound of your voice. Their eyes widen at the angry sight of you and knelt down on one knee. You watched as both men looked down at the ground waiting for you.

“What happened?” You questioned them. They both were out of breath as they looked up. They didn't know what to say. Both were ashamed that you had to witness them. They were fighting like children over you.

“Such boys.” You said as you shook your head at them. They quickly rose up when you started to walk away from them.

“No.” You shouted when you looked over your shoulder to see them following you. You pointed a finger at them, “I discharged both of you tonight. I don't need boys to guard me. When you're done acting like one, come to my chambers.”

They watched as you turned around and walked away. Kylo let out a sigh and put his sword back to his scabbard, Sandor let out a tsk and looked away.

Kylo didn't want to end badly with Sandor. Kylo wanted to continue guarding you and servicing you. He wasn't going to let Sandor get in the way of that. Kylo wasn't stupid, he knew the older man had a crush on you. He knew it because he himself had one on you as well.

“I’m sorry.” Kylo said. Sandor remained silent as he looked at Kylo. He didn’t trust Kylo, he was waiting for Kylo to attack again since you were gone but he didn’t.

“Let me buy you a pint as an apology.” Sandor let out a sigh and nodded. He followed Kylo as they walked down the hall. He wasn’t going to say no to free ale.

The tavern outside the castle was filled that night. The serving girl quickly got Kylo and Sandor a table and a pitcher of a dark ale when she saw the sigil of royalty on their armor. Sandor sat across from Kylo as they shared a pitcher of ale.

“Sorry about bringing up your brother.” Sandor said after the first cup of ale. Kylo looked up from his own cup. He was surprised that Sandor spoke to him. He thought the night was going to be quiet.

“It’s fine.��� Kylo said. Sandor watched as Kylo looked back down at his cup.

“You miss him?” Kylo nods at Sandor. “He was my best friend. We were twins. The day he died, a piece of me died with him.”

“Do you miss your brother?” Kylo asked. Sandor didn’t answer, he only shook his head no.

“How do you know about him?” Sandor asked as he looked around the tavern.

“I was there that day in the library.” Kylo said shyly, he looked at Sandor who was now glaring at him.

“Motherfuc-.”

“I’m sorry. I was walking in to relieve you when I heard you speaking to her.” Kylo said before Sandor could finish.

“If you tell anyone about this.” Kylo shook his head.

“I won’t but can I just say I do hope your brother dies. I can’t imagine ever hurting my brother like that.” Sandor took a gulp of his drink before answering.

“I hope he dies too.”

“You think he’ll follow you here?” Kylo asked.

“Why you asking so much fucking questions?!” Sandor growled at Kylo. Kylo tossed his hands up showing defeat and sighed.

“Just asking questions. Trying to get to know you better.” Kylo said, making Sandor roll his eyes.

“You talk to fucking much.” Sandor commented.

“Well if we are going to guard the Queen. We might as well try to get along. She was pretty upset when she saw fighting.”

Sandor was about to agree when he saw a young girl walking behind Kylo with a smile. She wore a dress too small that showed her curves and her cleavage was about to spill over the bodice she wore on top of the dress.

“Well, hello there.” The woman said as she placed a hand on Kylo’s shoulder.

“You look pretty lonely here. Want some company?” Sandor looked away as he poured more ale into his cup.

He was shocked when Kylo rejected the woman’s offer and told her he’s busy. Sandor looked at the young woman who had a surprised face, she couldn’t believe that he rejected her.

“She could have made you happy.” Sandor told him as they both looked over at the girl who was making her way towards another table.

“I don’t want her.” Kylo said, grabbing the pitcher from the table.

“The queen then?” Sandor asked.

“Yeah. Just like you, Clegane.” Sandor shook his head about to disagree.

“Fucking hell, I know you do because I heard the maids gossiping about you.” Sandor made a face as Kylo spoke.

“What did they say?”

Kylo grinned. “You haven’t fucked anyone since you started guarding her even before that when you came to the kingdom.”

“That has nothing to do with me wanting her.”

“Sandor! Men fuck. It’s what we do. We kill and we fuck. You want her or you just want cock, do tell me. There’s a stable boy who might be a fit for you.”

“I don’t like cock.” Sandor stated.

“You’re quite popular though. The maids at the castle want to see what you got hiding under that armor .” Sandor shook his head.

“You are popular. Even the Queen looks at you. I catch her plenty of times staring at you, especially when you’re fighting in tournaments. You with that helmet shaped like a wolf.”

“It’s a hound.” Sandor corrected him and continued on. “She watches you as well. When you’re riding or reading that damn book in Latin.”

“Guess she looks at both of us.” Kylo said.

It was about midnight when Kylo and Sandor decided to go back to the castle. Sandor had to admit Kylo was interesting. He wasn’t like anyone he met in King’s Landing. Kylo spoke more about his brother after the fourth pitcher of ale. He told Sandor how his twin brother fell in love with a lady from a house. A girl named Rey and Ben had gone to war for her. Kylo went with Ben since he always follows his brother no matter what. Ben died protecting Kylo during the war. At the end it was for nothing, Rey didn’t mourn for his brother. Not even a single tear was shed for his brother. Kylo told Sandor she got married with some lord the following days. Kylo has been alone since then doing all sorts of jobs to get him by. The ale got to Sandor too, the older man told Kylo about his fights in King’s Landing and how he used to guard a little bitch prince who was the product of incest. He wouldn’t forget the sight of Kylo’s face when he told him that the Queen was fucking her twin brother. They both talked among themselves as they made it to the castle.

“We should apologize.” Kylo said standing outside of your chambers.

“Aye.” Sandor answered before knocking on the door.

They heard you grant permission to enter. Sandor was the first to enter, he felt Kylo walk beside him. Both stood still as they saw you sitting in front of your vanity. You wore your night clothes, a dark red robe over your pink nightgown. You kept staring at yourself at the mirror as you brushed your hair.

“My queen.” Kylo said after clearing his throat. “If this is a bad time, we will come back tomorrow.”

“No.” You said putting the hairbrush down and looking at them through the mirror. You turned around and rose up from your chair.

“You're done being childish?” You asked them.

“Aye, we're sorry, your grace.” Sandor told you as you walked towards them. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why were you fighting?” You asked them as you looked between them.

When they didn’t respond quick enough you spoke again. “Are you both not happy with me?” Their eyes widened at your words. Guilt filled their hearts at the thought of you thinking they weren’t content with you.

“Haven't I been kind? Not generous enough?” You asked knowing damn well that can’t be the reason. They get paid well for guarding you.

“I let you fuck with whoever you want and not say a word.” You told Kylo who’s face paled.

“Do you know the embarrassment I go through when someone tells me that my guard has been seen half naked coming out of the servants quarters?”

You looked at Sandor. “I kept my promise to you about not speaking about your past. I had lied to my father for you before he passed away. The council will have my head if they found out the reason why you left Westeros. My throne would be in jeopardy for keeping a secret like that.”

Sandor dropped his head. You looked at them both with a pained expression. “The servants have heard and seen your little fight. It spread like wildfire through the castle. They think I'm incapable of handling both of you.”

You walked away from them as you shook your head. “They look for ways to find anything wrong with me so they can take my throne.

“Tell me at once. Why were you both fighting?” You shouted. “If you don't then leave and never come back.”

“We want you.” Sandor's mouth dropped at Kylo’s confession. He looked to the right to see Kylo staring at you.

“What?” You questioned looking at both of them.

“He’s right.” Sandor added, perhaps it was the ale running though his system but he knew they had to tell you the truth. It was the only way for them to continue to stay with you.

“You have me already. I don't understand.” Kylo shook his head at you.

“Not that way, your grace. We want you, all of you. We want to be with you.” Kylo told you.

“More than guards.” Sandor said, walking towards you. Sandor has never felt this way before towards a woman. You gave him sympathy, you treated him as a human something he's never experienced before. In some way it frightens him but if you were to reject him then he would leave, if you command it.

“I want you.” Sandor’s words came out in a whisper when he looked at you.

“Both of you do?”

“Yes.” Kylo answered you, he followed Sandor’s steps towards you.

“It was because of me you were fighting, then.” you walked closer to them. You smell the ale on them, they were awestruck when you grabbed their hands with your own. With Kylo, you grabbed his hand with your left hand and you grabbed Sandor with your right hand.

“Both of you smell like you have drunk the entire tavern. How do I know your words are true?” You asked them.

“The ale is helping with our confidence.” Kylo admits giving your hand a squeeze.

You took a deep breath as you looked at them. “Why do you think I have not accepted any proposal?” You asked them.

Sandor and Kylo looked at each other for a second before looking back at you. This was very true, the years they have been with you. You’ve rejected all the many proposals you received.

“I had hoped that one of you would step forward and claim me as theirs but now I have two.” You dropped their hands softly before backing away. Each of them looked disappointed. They can see you were deep in thought. You looked around your chambers then at them.

“If this happens. No fighting between both of you.” Sandor lets out a sigh of relief when you speak.

“This must be between us.” Sandor nodded.

“And I don’t share.” You said looking at Kylo. “Both of you would be mine and mine alone.”

You stared at Kylo wondering if he knew what you meant. You don’t think you have the stomach to see Kylo with another woman but what you are asking of him felt a bit selfish. You’re asking him to just be with you and only you.

A smile appears on Kylo’s handsome face. “I’m yours. Only yours.” He tells you.

Your smile matches his and you held yourself back because at that moment all you wanted to do was kiss him. You look over at Sandor. His face is stone cold, he has no expression on his face. You couldn’t read him.

“Sandor.” You whispered his name, hoping to find the answer you wanted. You wanted him to say yes, you wanted him to hold you and kiss you. You wanted those large hands on you, you wanted those lips and Kylo’s lips over your body.

“I’m yours. Only yours.” He said it with a sultry tone.

Your feet had a mind of their own, you walked towards them. You went to the closest to you, Kylo. His eyes were dripping with desire as you got close to him. Shaky hands make their way to his neck, he leans down to kiss you.

Sandor watches as Kylo cups your face as he kisses you. You pulled away, leaning your forehead against his. “I’m yours.” You whispered against his lips.

You pull away from Kylo and walk toward Sandor. You can’t help but smile at him as you step in front of him. His armor was cool under your touch as you went on your tiptoe to kiss him. Just as Kylo, Sandor leans down to kiss you. He copies Kylo’s move and cups your cheek. He doesn’t want to stop, how can he? He was just kissed by an angel. He feels your hands on his neck now, fingertips touching the ends of his hairs.

“Only yours.” You tell Sandor. You were caught by surprise when Sandor kissed you again. The kiss was soft and so desperate to taste you, you melted under his touch. You feel his hand on your waist, as he pulls away to kiss your neck. You gasped when you felt Kylo behind you kissing your shoulders.

“Before anything happens, the guard down the hall. Discharge him and come back.” You tell them, walking away from them. You dropped the robe as you looked over your shoulder at them while untying your nightgown.

“Hurry. Don't keep me waiting long.” You said before walking to your bed.

Sandor looks over at Kylo who was smirking as he stared at you.

“We lay with her?” Sandor asked as Kylo signaled him to join him to discharge the guard.

“No shit, I mean if you want to watch. That’s fine by me.” Kylo answered him while opening the door.

“I-I never laid with..” Kylo comes to a halt and stares up at him.

“You’re a virgin?!” Kylo’s eyes widened and Sandor rolled his eyes at him.

“Of course, not. I fucked back home. I just never fucked a woman with a man in the same bed.” Sandor wants to punch Kylo in the face when he starts to laugh.

“It’s not bad.” Kylo told him. “I’m not into men.” Sandor said and Kylo raised his brows at him.

“Me too but we both want her and by some miracle she wants us just as much as we want her.” Kylo said as he walked down the hall. Sandor followed him and waited for Kylo to speak with the guard.

“Look, let’s not fuck this up. You stay on one side and I’ll stay on the other side. If you happen to touch my dick then so be it, it’s not going to fall off.” Sandor's cheeks turn pink by Kylo’s word.

“I’m also hoping you won’t kill me if I accidentally touch you.” Kylo said as they watched the guard walk away.

“I just might depending where you touch.” Sandor said and Kylo shrugs shoulders.

“Do it after we do the deed.” Kylo said and they both walked back to you.

Sandor shuts the door behind him after Kylo walks in. Kylo looks over his shoulder at Sandor with a smirk, dark eyes shining with excitement. This is what they wanted, this is what they have been craving for so long and now you are here, ready to be devoured and pleased by them. Sandor unhooks Kylo’s cloak as he turns for the younger guard to do that same with his.

In sync, they took off their armor and weapons quickly and dropped it on the floor as they noticed candle lights appear further in the room. You were waiting for them.

Kylo glances over at Sandor when he is done removing his armor. He notices Sandor breathing heavily almost like he was afraid.

“Clegane.” Kylo whispers. Sandor looks down at him.

“Let’s get our girl.” Sandor nods before walking towards your bed, they notice the nightgown on the floor.

Kylo pulls the curtain showing your bed, you’re sitting in the middle of the bed with your back to the headboard. They noticed you were naked with only the sheets covering your chest. Kylo removes his black tunic shirt and he sees your eyes glue to his chest. Kylo’s chest is toned, his abs are defined and you can see scars on his body from his battles. Sandor does the same and you bite your bottom lip when you see Sandor’s chest. His chest is covered with dark coarse hairs. It went all the way down to his stomach.

Kylo notices how your eyes are drawn towards Sandor and he can’t help but feel a bit jealous of the older man.

“I have never done this before. Never with one man but now I have two. Be patient with me, I beg.” You tell them.

Kylo smiles and walks towards the bed. “You’re in luck, my queen. I happen to be a wonderful teacher.” You smile at Kylo as he sits down on the edge of bed.

“Perhaps my assistant would like to start you off.” Kylo said, looking over at Sandor.

Sandor licks his lips before walking to the bed and sits next to you. His eyes widen when you get close to him, the sheet drops from your chest.

“Fuck.” Sandor whispered as he got close to you.

You look at Kylo who smirks at your shyness. “Go on. Show our queen how a Westerosi kiss their woman.”

Sandor was glad Kylo urged him to make the move. It wasn’t the gods that gave him permission, but it will do. Sandor leans down to kiss your lips as you lean towards him. You moan when you feel his hands on your body. Kylo watched as Sandor held you in his arms as he kissed you. His hands ran up and down your back before settling on your hips. Kylo stands to remove his boots and trousers when Sandor gently pushes you down on the bed and gets between your legs.

You’re moaning as you raise your arms to wrap them around his neck. Kylo watches as Sandor pushes your legs open so he can get between them.

“You’re perfect.” Sandor says as he pulls away and looks down at your body. He cups one of your breasts and leans down to lick your nipple. You squeal when you feel his beard tickle your skin.

“Oh my- oh!” You moan when you feel Sandor suck on your nipples, throwing your head back. Your eyes shoot open when you feel him start to kiss your rib cage, all the way down to your stomach.

To your surprise you see Kylo ahead of you. He’s staring at Sandor and you. You bring a hand to your mouth when you see him jerking himself off. Kylo licked his lips at you when he noticed you’re staring at him pumping himself. You look down when you feel Sandor touch your cunt.

The bed dips down and you feel Kylo over you, his face comes from above. His dark curls frame his face, his eyes glistening with lust.

“He’s going to eat your cunt. He’s getting it ready for us.” Kylo says peeking at Sandor who was looking at him between your legs.

Kylo kisses your lips while Sandor kisses the lips between your legs, Kylo drinks your moans as Sandor slips his tongue into you. Kylo nips your chin as he cups your breast pinching your nipple, looking at you for your reaction.

“Lick them, please.” He obeys without a single thought.

Sandor looks up at you to see Kylo next to you, kissing you while he eats your cunt. He grows hard as he watches Kylo lick your nipples, his pink tongue swirling around the hard nipple.

“Wait-t-t. Please.” You cry out to Sandor who's feasting your cunt.

“You're going to cum, my queen. It’s okay.” Kylo whispered against your forehead before kissing it. He watches you as you arch your back, he continues to play with your nipples. He grins to himself when he hears your moaning as you tremble while coming undone.

Kylo catches his stare and raises a brow. “How does she taste, Clegane?”

“Heavenly.” Sandor said hoarsely as he licked his lips, making Kylo laugh. He looks down at you to move your hair out of your face.

“Did you hear?” He asked you. You nod while blushing. “You feel good?” You nod once more.

“I'll be back soon, I must have a taste for myself.” Kylo said, leaning down to kiss you on the lips. Kylo quickly gets off the bed and kneels next to Sandor.

“Both of you?” You asked as you spread your legs wider. “Is that what you want?” Kylo asked.

Sandor saw how your eyes widened and a blush appeared across your cheeks. You give them a nod.

Kylo winks at Sandor and kisses your inner thigh, Sandor notices your reaction and he copies it, kissing the right side of your inner thigh.

“Fuckk.” Kylo moans when he makes it to your cunt, kisses it softly, kissing your slick cunt, Sandor has done a number on you. He licks up and down your slit a few times as he touches himself. He looks at Sandor who's staring at him.

Sandor tense up when Kylo grabs one of his hands. “Give me your hand.” Sandor leans closer to him as Kylo uses the older guard fingers. He hushes you when you whimper when he softly slips Sandor’s finger into you.

“Yes, move it.” Kylo tells Sandor as he makes room for him to keep fingering you. Kylo licks your clit, kisses it, sucks on it as Sandor pumps his finger into you.

“Shit.” Kylo moans when he has a taste of your cunt. Sandor was right.

Kylo pulls Sandor’s finger and tells him to stick it in your mouth. “Give her a taste of her heavenly cunt.”

You open your mouth wide when Sandor laid next to you. He watched in surprise how you acted. You sucked his fingers, moaning at the taste of your slick on his thick digits.

“Sandor.” You whispered with a mouth filled with his fingers.

He pulls away to kiss you sweetly and gentle. He wants your first time to be good. He bumps his nose with yours and looks at Kylo.

“Look at him.” Sandor whispers in your ear as you whine in pleasure when Kylo puts your legs on his shoulders.

“It’s happening again.” You cry out as you grind yourself on Kylo’s face, his nose is pressing against your clit.

“That’s it.” Sandor tells you. “Cum all over his face.”

Sandor saw you looking between him and Kylo, when you reached your hand for Sandor’s face. He pressed his lips against yours as you came.

Sandor kissed your cheek, pressing chaste kisses on your face as you breathed heavily. You had thrown your head back trying to catch your breath. Sandor watches your body tremble, he just thinks to himself what a beautiful body you have. All these years you have been hiding this body under your gowns, your skin is glowing, covered in saliva and love bites that are already bruising on your body.

Kylo chuckles as he gently pushes your leg off his shoulder, and crawls on top of you. Sandor looks at him as he smiles wide down at you. His face is glistening as he licks his lips.

“Does it always feel good?” You asked as Kylo laid next to you. You look between them.

“Only when we are doing it.” Sandor answers you as he brings his hand up to touch your body. Kylo smirks at him and nods when you turn to look at them.

“He’s absolutely right. Just us. Only us. Sandor and me.” Kylo touches your inner thighs as Sandor touches your hips.

“Aren’t I fortunate, then.” You said after a few seconds. Their hands never left yours, their dark eyes remained on you.

“I would like to return the favor.” They saw you blushing as you glanced between them, glancing between their legs. Kylo looked over at Sandor, the older guard’s face was pink by your words.

Kylo wanted to roll his eyes at him but he remembered. This is Sandor's first time sharing a woman in bed. Kylo can see Sandor was the type to be territorial. Kylo had shared women with men like that. Kylo has decided he will make this enjoyable for them and for you. He wanted Sandor and you to have a good experience, if both of you did. This wasn't going to be a one time thing.

“My queen, what do you know about sucking cock?” Kylo asked.

“I heard of it from the servants.” You admitted shyly making him grin at you as he squeezed your inner thigh gently.

“Do you hear this, Sandor?” Kylo said with wide eyes as he gave a smile at the older guard.

Sandor nods looking down at you, his rough hands still rubbing your body. “Maybe next time.”

Kylo was happy Sandor was taking a stand, he was wondering if Sandor would just follow whatever he said. “I want to make you feel good as well.”

Kylo watched as Sandor gently cupped your face. “You shall. Tonight it’s about you. Alright?”

Kylo nods at him then at you. “We will have more time for that. Let your strong and trustworthy guards learn their way of their queen’s body tonight.” He tells you as his hand roamed down, over your mound. His fingertips found your clit, he hums when he feels you clenching around him when he slips a finger in.

“Such a greedy cunt.” Kylo tells Sandor as he pulls his finger out and grabs a hold of Sandor’s wrist. Kylo wants him to be comfortable around his touch. Sandor tensed when he felt Kylo’s grab a hold of his wrist. Fingers were wet with your slick, he let Kylo take his arm between your legs. He glanced under you and you were staring down at their joint hands. You were joying this just as much as they were.

“So wet.” Kylo mumbled when he bought Sandor’s hand about your clit as he slipped his fingers inside again.

“Help me.” Kylo said to Sandor as he rubbed your clit again. You began to moan when Kylo thrusted his fingers into you as Sandor worked on your clit.

They had you trembling after your third orgasm. They sucked their own fingers after you came. You felt like mush, you didn't hear them talking to one another. Glancing at them, they were close, Kylo spoke to Sandor in his ear. You moved your hands to grab their attention.

“I like you both like this. Not fighting one another.” You told them and they looked at each other.

“No more fighting.” Kylo said as he lay down next to you on his side while Sandor sat, facing ahead.

Kylo kissed you before you could speak. “Are you up for having sex?” Kylo asked you. He kissed your cheek waiting for your response as Sandor remained still.

“I want it. Both of you.” Kylo calls Sandor’s name as he kisses your neck. “Good.”

“Sandor and I decided. Sandor should go first.” Kylo notices how nervous Sandor and you were.

“Sandor can't help himself.” Kylo whispers. “Such a pretty queen with a greedy cunt. Such a greedy cunt wanting to be filled.”

You blushed by Kylo’s words. “Call for him.” Kylo added, looking over at Sandor who still sat.

“Sandor.” You said his name as Kylo kissed your neck. “Please.” Kylo encouraged you to say more.

“Sandor, please fuck me. I want you. I wanted you for years.” Sandor looks over his shoulder at you. He glances at Kylo who kept nodding at him, telling him to go on.

Kylo parts your legs wider and looks up at Sandor. “It’s rude to have your queen waiting, Clegane.”

“Please.” You begged and Sandor was quick to act, removing his trousers along with his boots. The bed dipped under you when Sandor leaned over you. Kylo pushes your leg up to drape it over Sandor’s thick legs. Your eyes remained at Sandor’s cock. His cock intimidated you, it’s thick and veiny. You feel it against you, it's warm and heavy.

“All of that goes in?” You asked looking up at Sandor who kept rubbing your outer thighs. Kylo laughs making you blush as Sandor rubs your abused clit.

“Indeed.” Kylo answers and you notice his hands, he was touching himself. His cock was much longer and a bit thinner than Sandor. You can see his heavy set balls while Sandor’s dark pubic hid his.

“Can I touch it?” Sandor nods at you and brings your hand onto his cock. Your legs tighten around him as you touch it. You barely could wrap around it. Sandor moans and you quickly let go.

“Did I hurt you?” Kylo giggles and you look over at him.

“Not hurting, pleasuring.” Kylo said, moving your hand back to Sandor’s cock.

Kylo mumbled against your ears, telling you to jerk Sandor’s cock faster. You grew happy when Kylo praised you, he kept telling you that you're doing such a good job touching Sandor.

“Fuck.” Sandor was quick to remove your hand and he leaned down to kiss you.

Kylo stares at how Sandor kisses you, the way you let out a small moan when he grabs your face. Kylo touches his cocks, pumping himself when Sandor pulls away with a grunt as he latches on one of your nipples. Kylo hears you giving permission to Sandor to enter you. Kylo grins himself when Sandor looks over at him and sees him touching himself. Kylo winks at him and Sandor looks down at you.

Kylo doesn’t think he has ever been this hard before, the tip of his cock is leaking and balls are heavy when he sees Sandor thrusting into you. Sandor hides against your neck as he pumps into you. The sight of your face and the sounds you were making him. The sounds of Sandor grunting made him blush.

Kylo notices you looking over at him and he can't help but kiss your lips.

“How does she feel?” Sandor moans when he brings his face away from your neck. He doesn't stop thrusting when he looks at Kylo. Sandor grabs the sheets under you, twisting in a tight fist.

“So, good.” You clench around at his words, your hands touch his chest, running your fingers through his chest hair as he rams into you.

“Oh my, your grace.” Kylo says as Sandor pushes your legs towards your chest. Both men are looking at your cunt being spread open by Sandor’s cock.

Kylo can see Sandor’s cock going in and out of you. You’re crying out in pleasure, Kylo is holding your legs open while Sandor’s keeps fucking you.

“It’s happening again.” You whine looking at them. Kylo’s hand slides its way to your clit, Sandor doesn’t stop, he loves it too much. The way your tight cunt wraps around him, so hot and warm. He groans when he feels you clench around him harder when Kylo begins to rub your throbbing clit.

“Cum on his cock. Cum on Sandor’s cock.” Kylo whispers to you making you cry out when he gently slaps your clit.

Sandor curses loudly when he feels you cumming on his dick. He’s about to blow and slides himself off to jerk himself.

“I want it.” You cry out. Kylo watches Sandor moan loudly when he cums. He shoots his load on your belly.

“Fuck.” Sandor said hoarsely. He watches your fingers scoop his cum from your stomach and bring it up to your lips. He saw Kylo whispering to you, this had to be his idea of you tasting his cum.

Sandor thinks Kylo’s some sex fairy for a second but he was glad that you didn’t mind sharing your bed with two men.

“Sandor.” You call his name with a heave. Sandor notices you open your arms for him and he leans down. He flinches when you cup his burnt cheek, your eyes wide with admiration.

“Thank you.” You told him before kissing him on the lips. He welcomes your lips, kissing you as well.

Kylo gulped when he saw you kissing Sandor, his cock is so painfully hard, it’s throbbing and his balls are aching. He spits in his hand before continuing to jerk himself. He notices Sandor pulling away to kiss your neck. Dark eyes look at Kylo, Sandor licks his lips before looking down at you.

“It’s time for him.” Sandor brushes the strands of hairs off your face.

“He’s going to love this cunt just as much as I did.” You smile up at Sandor and look over at Kylo. Sandor rolls off of you and lays down on the other side. He looks up at the ceiling trying to catch his breath.

He hears your giggling when Kylo crawls over to you. The bed dips and Sandor hears Kylo’s praises. Sandor never watched someone having sex before, he never shared any one. Never been in a relationship before, it’s all new for him but he doesn’t want to give it up. He was nervous when Kylo told him to take you first. He was waiting for Kylo to take advantage of his inexperience but he didn’t. Kylo had told him to take you, make love to you and make you feel good.

“You’re so beautiful.” Kylo moans and Sandor hears him thrusting into you. His cheeks blushes when he hears you. The sound of Kylo’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to him.

He looks over and his cock twitches at the lubricious sight in front of him. Kylo caged your head with his arms as he kissed you while thrusting into you. Legs wrapped around his waist. Kylo grunts into you as you drag your nails down his back.

“I’m going to move you.” You nod at him and Sandor bites his lips when Kylo turns you around carefully. Kylo held you for a second as he kissed you, kissing your cheeks and forehead as he pushed you down.

“Just like that.” He moans at the sight of you, down on your hands and knees with your ass in the air.

You look at Sandor and smile at him.

“Is this ok?” You ask them. Kylo says yes and you wait for Sandor’s response.

“Yes, just like that.” Sandor says as he grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles at the same time Kylo slides into you. You hold Sandor’s hand as Kylo begins to thrust.

The bed creaks and you cry out for god.

“There’s no god in here, my queen.” Sandor says, making Kylo laugh.

“Just us.” Kylo adds. Sandor chuckles at him as you begin to push yourself back on his cock making Kylo moan.

“You’re right.” Kylo moans and looks at Sandor.

“So..good. So fucking good.” Kylo grunts as he slams himself all the way to the hilt. His hands hold to your hips, he leans over you making sure you are okay. Sandor slides a bit closer to you, he notices your furrow brows, your eyes clenched shut and your whines grew loudly.

“Cum.” Sandor said as he reaches under, his hand goes over your belly and your mound. He knew you were close especially when you moaned. Sandor touches your clit, he moans deeply when he touches your cunt, so wet with your slick.

“Yes.” Kylo shouts, feeling you clench around him when Sandor rubs you.

Kylo holds himself until he feels you cumming, he won’t stop until you cum on his cock. He feels his heart beating out of his chest, his ears buzzing every time you moan. You sounded better than he imagined.

“Make her cum, Ren.” Sandor encouraged him as he pressed down your clit making you scream.

“Yes. Yes.” Kylo repeats like a mad man as his thrusts become harder hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

Kylo thinks he had died and the gods had blessed him. There was no other pleasure in life now, he told himself when you came on his cock. Sandor pulls away and Kylo cries out when he pulls out of you and finishes himself off. Jerking himself with your slick, he aims on your bare back as you drop down completely on the bed from exhaustion.

Kylo’s stomach tense up and he throws his head back when he spurts cum over your back.

“Fuck.” He’s winded as he lays down next to you on the other side.

Sandor sees you trembling. You open your eyes when you feel Sandor grab a hold of your hand. You give him a small smile before inhaling deeply.

“I didn’t know people could experience this.” You told them softly. You feel Kylo lean over you kissing your shoulder.

“I see why you do it so much.” You turn your face to look at Kylo.

Kylo looks at you seriously as he tries to catch his breath.

“Now, I’m only going to do it with you. I’m yours and only yours.” Kylo repeats the exact same words the three of you said before.

“I’m yours and only yours.” You said it back and it made him smile. He leans close to your face, giving a peck on your lips.

You turn to face Sandor who was staring at both of you. “I’m yours and only yours.”

Sandor looks at you then at Kylo.

Kylo gives him a nod, almost like telling him yes, this can work. It won’t be perfect but it can work between them.

“I’m yours and only yours.” Sandor finally said. Your smile grew and you made him lean over you to kiss him as well.

They helped you clean yourself when they noticed you were drifting off to sleep. They were going to leave to their own room after setting you into bed. They didn’t want to push even more, even though they knew they could still keep going.

“Stay.” You told them as you went to the middle of the bed. Sandor lays on your right while Kylo lays on your left. You slept on Sandor’s chest as Kylo spooned you from behind. Kylo and Sandor slept that night in your bed as well the following night and the night after that.

Years passed and the relationship had flourished well between Sandor, Kylo and you. Some days were good and others were bad, having two hard headed knights who were in love with you, their queen was no easy task and yes, there were consequences when they fought with each other. Like Sandor and Kylo kneeling in front of you naked, their faces inches away from your wet cunt. They have to share and act like good boys for them to be forgiven. Of course, they were good boys, they shared you with your leg over on each of their broad shoulders. They would eat you out until your legs shook and their faces were soak with your slick.

A/n: Can't get this scene out of my mind.

I can imagine one night the three are in bed and it’s the middle of winter. It’s the harshest winter that the kingdom has ever endured. Everyone is cold af and Sandor being the bear he is, is keeping you warm while Kylo is much leaner, he’s freezing his ass off no matter how many fur blankets he has on.

So when Sandor hears you say to Kylo that he should sleep on Sandor’s side to keep warm a mini fight breaks out. Sandor does not want Kylo to touch him in his sleep. You threatened them, that you were going to sleep in front of the fireplace without them and they quickly shut up.

“Fuck, get over here so I can sleep.” Sandor snaps at Kylo.

“Put your arm around him.” Sandor holds his tongue at you and obeys.

“This is nice.” Kylo said, wiggling his eyebrows at you making you giggle as he and you laid your head on Sandor’s chest.

“Stay still.” Sandor said with a huff as Kylo pulled the blankets up. Everyone went to sleep after that, all nice and toasty thanks to Sandor.

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #sandor clegane imagine #game of thrones #the last duel #sandor clegane au #kylo ren au #throuple #rory mccann #adam driver

[animeyanderelover]

Image

You were defiantly staring up at the tattooed man hovering over you, a arrogant smirk on his face that only widened when he noticed your slight glare. How amusing you were. He could hear your heart anxiously beating against your chest, he could smell the fear you were clearly going through. Yet you refused to give him the pleasure of showing him that you were scared.

Sukuna had slipped out in a moment of weakness from your boyfriend’s side. He was always waiting, like a predator for his prey, to take over this body. It was infuriating enough that a mere human boy could keep him on a leash yet everyone had a weakness. All the curse had to do was explore Itadori’s weakness.

But Itadori’s weakness wasn’t his fear of death or his will to help others. No, it was something much more greedy, something so pathetic yet human that Sukuna had scoffed when he had realized the first time. The weakness of this human boy was nothing else than his lover. Itadori’s weakness was you.

So Sukuna had waited for a moment where he could break free and harm you, to break the spirit of Yuji and take over this body. He had told Yuji that he’d kill you if he should ever get free, that he’d devour you and tear you apart whilst you would be screaming for your beloved boyfriend to rescue you. He knew that he had hit a nerve when he had felt the wave of dread washing over the pink-haired boy.

You had been supposed to be the threat Sukuna would use against Yuji, a warning that he would dangle above the human boy. Yet there had been two things Sukuna hadn’t taken into account and those two things were the reason why you were still alive, squirming deliciously under him.

The first reason was your loyalty to your boyfriend, one that transcended even your fear of the unknown and highly dangerous world of curses. Despite knowing about the world he had been thrown into on that one particular night, despite being aware that he was a vessel to one of the most lethal curses known to the world, you had stayed with him. Even with Sukuna occasionally manifesting himself somewhere on Yuji’s body, you hadn’t left your boyfriend. Instead you had acknowledged him and how he had changed and had decided that you’d still love him. This whole sappy show of your love on the other hand had given Yuji strength who had previously feared that you’d be terrified of him. You weren’t looking away from the new part of him but we’re helping him to control Sukuna and on the rare moments where the curse had slipped out, you had told him boldly to fuck off and leave Yuji alone.

How amusing. Did you even know what he could do to you and that running mouth of yours?

The second reason was the biggest shock to the King of Curses though, a reason he hadn’t even fathomed in his entire life. Was it to blame on Itadori’s own stupid attraction to you? He knew that the boy was helplessly obsessed with you, that was the very reason why he had chosen you as a mean’s way to get his revenge for being kept down by the likes of a human.

So why was it that he himself had a fuzzy feeling inside his chest whenever you were close to the boy? Why was he the one getting attached to you too? You were as weak as they could get yet there was something intriguing about the way you fought against your own fear and stayed with your boyfriend, even telling Sukuna himself that he should leave your beloved boyfriend alone. You were bubbly yet feisty, scared of what you didn’t know yet courageous. Somehow you were pathetic yet gorgeous.

You knew that the curse above you was infinitely stronger than you and you knew that he enjoyed the clear difference in strength, clarified by his one hand pinning your wrists down above your head.

“We haven’t made acquaintances personally before but you already know who I am so I won’t waste time introducing myself.” he spoke triumphantly, earning a scoff from you as you tried to wiggle free from him. You seemed to realize though that it was useless as you stopped wasting your energy. “What do you want here, Sukuna?” you hissed in his face without any consideration of who he was and what he could do, thrilling the curse above you. You were either stupid or fearless, possibly both.

He was possessing Yuji’s body, still looked like him, minus the tattoos, yet you were glaring angrily at him. You only saw the curse, didn’t let yourself get confused by the fact that this was the body of your boyfriend as the person controlling it wasn’t your sweet boyfriend.

“You should watch that little mouth of yours, human. Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” Your eyebrow twitched before you turned your head away, showing him the audacity of ignoring him. You really were stupid, weren’t you?

“Don’t ignore me when I’m talking to you. You pay attention to me when I talk to you and you answer when I ask you a question.”

He grabbed your chin harshly and yanked your head back, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your head roughly enough that you were sure that he’d leave bruises. It hurt but you bit the insides of your cheek to prevent yourself from giving the pain away. “Answer me. Do you know who I am?” he repeated slowly again, lifting your head a bit and shaking it back and forth as if you were a toy.

“I know who you are, alright.” you managed to spit out through his actions which caused you a light dizziness. “I know that your name is Sukuna and you’re a notorious and highly dangerous curse. I also know that Yuji is currently your vessel.”

He let go of your head amidst the shacking which caught you by surprise and ended in your head bumping harshly on the ground. You swallowed down the groan of pain and instead stared daggers at him. If looks could kill, you’d have his head split in half by now.

“And despite knowing all of this, you have the guts to talk down to me? Tell me, human, are you just that stupid or have you a secret death wish this Itadori boy doesn’t know of? Because I sense your fear, you’re terrified yet somehow refuse to back down.”

“Because I’m confident.” you spoke without hesitation, earnest eyes meeting his gaze equally.

“Confident in what?”

“In Yuji.”

Sukuna just stared you down and you thought that you saw a spark of disbelief in his eyes. That was before he started laughing. At first it was a chuckle but eventually he let out a hearty laugh as if you had just made a good joke. Your facial expression shifted shortly into one of irritation before you pushed it all down. You wouldn’t let yourself get tempted into anything by him. You knew that Sukuna wanted you to lash out.

“Do you seriously believe in your weak boyfriend? Do you mean to tell me that you aren’t scared because of him?” Sukuna replied in between laughs of disbelief.

You nodded, your gaze not wavering despite the strong presence he was oozing out. Sukuna’s laugh slowly died down as your stare penetrated him with the unwavering determination and sheer confidence inside of it. You weren’t bluffing or clinging onto a hope. You genuinely meant what you had just told him? We’re you really that confident in Yuji to the point where you thought that you didn’t have to be afraid of him?

“What makes you so confident in your boyfriend then?”

“His strength.”

“Strength?” Sukuna repeated after you in a slow and warning tone since he had clearly understood what you had indirectly implied with your statement. There was a daring glimmer in his eyes as if he wants to test whether or not you’d have the guts to say it out loud. And you did indeed.

“I’m confident that Yuji is stronger than you.”

His hand shot around your neck, giving it a good squeeze that cut the oxygen off of your body. He was leaning down until his visage was close to your own face, observing how you tried your best to throw the glare right back at him despite his hand pressing down on your wind pipe. There was a moment of silence where he was just silently staring at you, watching how the hand around your neck tightened.

“Do you seriously believe that your human lover is stronger than me?” he asked in a low tone, scanning your face for any signs of immediate regret and overwhelming fear. But you didn’t allow any of it instead rebelliously staring right back at him. There was a slight smirk tugging on your lips despite the precarious situation you were currently in.

“I don’t believe that. I know it. I know that Yuji is stronger than you. Why are you asking? Did I strike a nerve?”

You shut up to let out a chocked noise when he pressed you into the ground harshly, his hand squeezing your throat until your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your eye socket.

“Would you still keep that confident grin if I would kill you right now?” Sukuna questioned you in a sadistic tone, a unnerving glimmer in his eyes.

Tears were starting to invade your vision as your body fought for the next breath. You didn’t break though. You knew he wouldn’t kill you.

“If you would have wanted to kill me…you would have done it already. You can’t do it though, can you? Because Yuji is stopping you for once and because that isn’t your intention for coming out. You-you merely want to test me.” you managed to choke out with the air you were able to take in. You could feel the blood pounding inside of your head as the lack of oxygen started to affect your body.

The next few seconds were painful for you as Sukuna was eying you silently, observing your little struggle for oxygen. Relief flooded through you when he finally removed his hand though, causing you to nearly choke on the air as you were gasping for it. As soon as you felt him removing his other hand which kept your wrists down, you instantly kicked and pushed against his body to get him away from you. Sukuna removed himself from you freely though, lifting his hands in the air as if mocking submission. The smirk had found it’s way back on his face as he was looking at you, clearly entertained.

“You’re smarter than you look. You caught me. Your boyfriend is indeed holding me back. I don’t think I can stay much longer here.” he laughed with a slightly weakened voice, feeling how Yuji was regaining control. You didn’t stop glaring at him, causing Sukuna to scoff.

“Stop glaring at me like that. I wasn’t really planning to kill you. Just wanted to see who in their right mind would stay with a boy who’s cursed. I must admit, you’re quite amusing.”

You eased up when you noticed his tattoos fading away, signaling that Yuji was returning. You hoped that he wouldn’t end up crying out of guilt as soon as the bruises on your face, wrists and neck would form. It wasn’t his fault.

“Seems like my time is up. Don’t feel relieved though, this isn’t the last you’ll see of me. I’m sure we’ll meet again. Don’t let yourself get killed until then.”

That was the last thing Sukuna managed to say to you before he was pushed back from Yuji.

“Hihihi~ Your little lover really is amusing, Itadori. Now I understand why you’re so obsessed with them. It would be a waste to kill someone as entertaining as that. Make sure to protect them, for me too. No one else can have them.”

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere itadori #yandere itadori yuji #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna

[chaoffee]

He loved you wholly

Character(s): Venti x gn reader Genre: Angst. Warnings: Reader death. Mention of blood, word not used but it's described as "dark liquid". Mention of how reader died, though vaguely. Mentions of grief. The pronouns used for reader is they/them (they were only used once throughout the entire piece.) Word Count: 963 Notes: y'all can thank @xcyphoz0a (sorry the tag ;;) for inspiring me to write this with their own angst, highly recommend checking them out! This also feels like my one Venti fic called "As a god weeps, so does his people" except reader isn't a god this time LOL

•○▬

There was once a time where the Anemo Archon had loved someone. He loved them so deeply and wholly that the whole of Teyvat would be engulfed in a sweet, cool breeze whenever he was with his beloved. Barbatos is no stranger to loss or grief. How he became the God of Freedom is enough to show what he had gone through, what he had lost. The friends he had lost. Grief and loss were nothing new to him.

Yet nothing could prepare him for the loss of a lover. You were young and filled with so much life. He knew you were only human and that one day you would have to part ways. He had mentally prepared himself for seeing you old and grey, for loving you until you were old and grey, but you didn’t make it to that milestone in life. You were taken before you could even notice any grey hairs starting to shine in your hair. Before any wrinkles started to form on your face due to age.

His most prominent regret was that he wasn’t with you when you died. You had died while finishing a commission for the Adventurer’s Guild. He had gone the entire day, doing his own thing, whether that was singing for the people, re-telling some stories for the kids, avoiding the cats that seemed to flock to him as if he was some type of magnet. He had smiled and laughed that day, unaware and carefree of what had happened to you.

It was only when night had fallen that he started to worry. But he shrugged it off, it was still early into the evening, your tired but smiling face would appear soon, he was sure of it. After all, the commission could’ve been further away than usual, he had reasoned with himself. But when the clock struck midnight and you had yet to show yourself to him that day, as you would every other day, that was when the worry and fear started sinking into his mind and heart.

The bard named Venti, ran towards the Adventurer’s Guild, towards Kathryne, his heart thumping loudly in his chest almost as loud as the sound of his shoes on the cobble streets of Mondstadt. When he had arrived at the booth where Kathryne stood, he was panting, dread filling his mind as he hastily asked her where you were, whether you had come back to collect your rewards, whether she had seen you after giving you your commission throughout the day.

“No, I have not seen them after giving them their commission for the day.” Kathryne had said, voice somehow lacking some human depth to it.

His heart had dropped to his stomach at those words. Terror dug into his stomach and heart, choking him from the inside. He demanded to know where you had been sent to. As soon as the words left Kathryne’s mouth did he vanish in a glow of forceful wind. Kathryne simply staring at the empty space where he had been seconds before. Some white feathers drifted through the air slowly, lazily towards the ground where he had stood.

He appeared in the same glow of forceful wind at the location given to him. The location he hoped you were at, unharmed and safe. But that hope quickly vanished once he saw you, lying on the ground not too far from where he stood. It took him merely a few running steps to get to you. He ignored the pain that shot up his legs as he fell onto his knees next to you. It took his eyes merely seconds to see the moonlit dark liquid that had started soaking into the soil and grass beneath your body. Only seconds to comprehend the arrows sticking out your body.

Tears dripped down his face as he held your pale face in his hands. He could feel the cold of your body seep into him through his hands. That night he could only weep by your side, his sobs echoing around him through harsh inhales and choked sounds. That night the winds were quiet across Teyvat as if stilling to grieve with him.

Nothing could have prepared him for the grief that comes with losing a lover. Centuries later and the only thing he had left of his beloved was the memories they had left with him and the songs he had sung of your and his story. He would leave cecilias by your grave whenever he thought of you. Whenever he could bare looking at the tombstone without feeling his heart ache painfully in his chest or feel his throat close, seizing the air out of his lungs.

You would sometimes visit his dreams, your smiling face bright as you gaze at him with such heartwarming affection. But his dreams of you all ended the same, with you flickering away until nothing but black lingers as the sounds of birds stir him from his sleep. A soft breeze bringing him back to the physical world, to the feeling of the drying tear stains on his face, to the feeling of his heart cracking in his chest. On those days, an empty feeling hollowed his heart leaving him feeling empty as memories of you replayed in his mind.

No matter the amount of time that would pass, his grief would follow him much like how his love for you follows him. With time the grief gets easier to deal with, but never will it truly leave. His grief is his reminder that you were there, and he had loved you wholly and unconditionally. He could only hope that after so long that your spirit had moved on peacefully. Perhaps one day he’ll see you again, wherever that will be.

#chaoffee fics #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #venti x reader #venti the bard #venti x you #genshin impact venti

[brynnwrites]

girls night - spencer reid

summary: spencer gives sick reader a girls night in since she can’t go to BAU girls night

warnings: mildly suggestive content at the end

Strep throat.

AKA, your worst enemy at the moment.

Of course you would come down with one of the most annoying viruses the week of girl's night. And not just any girl's night. The first girl's night since your best friend, Emily, returned to the team.

They reassured you that there would be plenty more girl's nights in the future, and even offered to reschedule at one point. You refused, and made them promise to do a round of shots for you while you were stuck in bed.

The only thing keeping you from being totally miserable was your loving boyfriend, Spencer. That golden retriever of a man tended to your every need and whim, fetching you bowls of hot soup, tea, ice cream, and anything else he could think of to soothe your aching throat. He made sure you took your prescribed medications on time, writing down the time you too them in a little chart he made in his nearly illegible handwriting.

He made sure you were comfortable at all times, practically suffocating you in the amount of fluffy blankets and pillows he brought. He would then panic and remove half of them, saying that you didn't need to overheat your body, even with chills from a fever.

He gave you all the cuddles you could handle and watched countless reruns of your favorite show with you, and you appreciated every second of it.

Yet you still suffered from a teeny tiny case of the dreaded FOMO.

He noticed your pouty expression as he held you between his legs, back against his chest, head leaned back on his shoulder, "I'm sorry, honey, I know you're missing your friends."

You feigned denial, shaking your head, "I'm perfectly happy here with you."

He rolled his eyes, "I know you are, but you're still allowed to be sad that you're missing your plans, you know? And you're sick, so you have two excuses to be sad."

"Spencer Walter Reid," you croaked with a playful smirk, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you want me to be sad."

He frowned genuinely, "I do not. I just want to make sure that you know that you don't have to feel obligated to be content right now. Even if part of you is. You can feel more than one emotion at once."

You sighed, tucking your head into the smooth curve of his neck, the top of your head snugly fitted against his jaw, "Okay, maybe I am a little sad. If it was any other girl's night it might not matter as much, but it's Em's first one back with us. I hate that I'm missing that."

"I know," he nodded, turning his head to kiss your hairline, "What do you guys do at girl's night anyways?"

You looked up at him innocently, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

He laughed, flashing his dorky grin that you adored, "I love you, you know that?"

"No," you pretended to be shocked, placing a hand over your heart, "it's not like you tell me every single minute of every day."

He just smiled and rubbed your shoulder, "So you really can't tell me?"

You thought for a moment, "We really don't do that much. We go out for drinks to get a little happy buzz going and then head over to Em's or Garcia's and watch some chick flicks. Sometimes we go full on high school and do each other's nails, put on face masks, and braid each other's hair."

"That's an odd combination of events," he noted aloud, his 'thinking wrinkles' appearing on his forehead.

You giggled, "It's not everyone's cup of tea and it's highly stereotypical, but we enjoy it."

He nodded with his thinking face still on. You could almost see the gears turning, "Stay here, I'll be right back."

Your head was too cloudy to connect the dots until he emerged from the bathroom with your bucket full of nail polish and two packages of face masks.

"Aw, Spence, you don't have to do any of this-"

"Ah ah ah, I want to. If you can't go to girl's night, I'm going to bring girl's night to you," he said, his face beaming.

How could you say no to that?

He asked you what movie you wanted to watch and you picked out your favorite romance film. He then settled in the bed next to you, moving all the blankets and laying a towel down so the nail polish didn't get on the bed sheets. Then he lined up all the colors in rainbow order.

"What color would you like, honey?" He asked.

You smiled, running your fingers over the bottles before setting on a deep navy color, "This one."

"Good choice," he nodded sagely.

Ask you watched the movie, he took your hand gingerly in his. His shaky fingers moved to swipe the paint over your nails with utmost focus, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth cutely.

"You do a better job than I do," you said softly, "I'll have to have you paint them more often."

"Anytime, my love," he said with the warmest smile you could imagine.

Once two even coats of color plus a clear coat were applied, he held your hands in his to make sure you didn't mess them up as they dried. That drew a giggle out of you, which then turned into a coughing fit.

He looked into your eyes sadly, "Are you sure you feel up to this?"

"Of course," you nodded, voice coarse and gravelly, "I feel better already."

He nodded, though not thoroughly convinced, "When we're done, you'll get some good rest, yeah?"

"I promise," you grinned, offering him your pinky as a promise, careful not to touch the paint.

Once it was thoroughly dry, you came up with an idea.

"Spence?" You asked, your voice sugar sweet, "Can I paint your nails?"

He looked at you with wide eyes, "My nails?"

"Yes, that's what I said," you chuckled.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged, "Why not?"

"Yes!" You cheered, peeking up as much as possible in your sickly state.

He picked the same color you had so 'you could be matching.' You held his hands in yours, carefully painting the nail on each of his long fingers. His nails were stubbier than yours and not as well groomed, but that was to be expected of a guy.

You already adored his hands, but when his nails were painted, you nearly went feral.

"Oh my gosh, Spence," you stared at his hands in awe, "we are going to have to paint your nails more often. It looks so good on you."

His cheeks turned pink and he looked down at them bashfully, "You really think so?"

You groaned approvingly, "Mhmm."

He saw the effect it had on you and gazed at you with a playful gleam in his eyes, "How long do they take to dry?"

You noticed the look he was giving you and smirked. You took one of his hands in yours, testing his thumb to feel the paint, "They're already dry."

He smiled, leaning in to mouth at your jaw lightly before speaking lowly, "Then why don't we put them to good use and make you feel a little better about missing girl's night, yeah?"

He didn't have to make that suggestion twice.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #fluff imagines #imagines #x reader imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader

[missamyrisa2]

How about this: you meet up to tickle a handsome man, but instead He says he wants to switch roles. He ties you down spread eagle and eyes your tummy, hips and thighs. How does that cute (or steamy) session go?

Mmmmmh~ I kind of love this soooo much~<3

I love to give tickles, it really is my love language. Buttttt~ I will always be a ticklee at heart so my soul just dances and skips and falls apart into sparkly giggles at the thought of someone turning the tables like that ~

"Nnnnnnh okayyyyy okay okay okay okay okayyy see but, I'm kind of possibly maybe ticklish and I can't help but notice you have the tickler eyes yeahhhh you know there's the tickler smile? No? Okay the tickler smile is when you can see the tickly intenttttttt and it's really similar to what people get mmmhhh when they see something really cute or they're enjoOoOoying someone's bashfulness likeeee girls really get that smile when they're playing with a guy's beautiful hair hair hair hairrrrr or if someone is playing with a kitten Sooo the tickly intent can also show up in the eyes which is what I see now and yeeeeeee that's okayyy okayyy myyy hippppsss I'm a hippie you're in my hip dips that's a thing hip diiiips~!!" I stammer through explanations as if they could ward off the giggles and gasps as my tickler bears down on my highly sensitive midsection.

The extremities on my body are in full protest, arms yanking uselessly on the bonds ~ my biceps are almost a joke of a prospect, flexing and twitching while doing absolutely nothing to help the ticklish situation. My legs are quivering threads, entirely pointless as my hips are being made to buck through slow concentric circles of his thumbs. Those little bones have made their way out of the top of my shorts, just inviting so much attention. I blurt out nonsensical explanations of what I'm currently feeling~ "and the twiiiistttt that's a twist seeee my hips are doing it we're dancing soooo you can stop tickling there's no tickling in the vanilla chocolate strawberry twiiiistt!!" My words turn from babbling to near soundless squeaks when those skilled fingers migrate inward, capturing my belly from either flank ~ always that line from the hips to tummy does me in ~ my navel is a twitching protestor, both begging for attention and jumping in outrage at the tickly inquisition forming all around my tum ~ I shake my head, hair a complete mess now, the stray threads tickling my own neck and upper chest which I certainly call out and beg him to move them aside. He does not, and the tickles travel around my navel like a scurrying relentless set of tickle bots whose only purpose is to keep me in this fluffy silly prison for eternity~

And then it gets oooh so much worse ~ those wicked fingers start tracing my beltline, working down the happy trail to my waist back and forth. The most dreaded maneuver starts and I find words through my squeaking gasps ~ "Nnnnhh don't dooo it nooo hookiesssss that's not a hooky zone you can't glide thereeee I'm gonna mmmhh I'll tease you to bitss for thissss you don't even know I'm a world famous teeeheheeaserrrr nnhhh not thteree!!!" I beg and plead and slip a snickermoan as his finger indeed performs the waist hook, slipping right under the line of my shorts and glides back and forth from hip to hip. The sensation of having my bottoms invaded is bad enough, and the tightness of the fabric keeps his finger snug to my skin~ not to mention his proximity to the most dreaded of sensations and my most silly awful kink~ the tickly teasy intent rises in both his eyes and smile~ the touch, and then the comments. His other hand is gently touching the flower shaped buckle on my belt, his mouth is commenting about it. It's all fuzz in my ears now, the tickles at my waist the knowing words, that damned curious touch ~ I hear myself giggling, gasping, saying a string of words that makes no earthly sense. He continues, talking about the cuteness of the accessory, that it really looks adorable on me and loves that I wore such an outfit for him. I can't take the supposedly innocuous commentary, and he knows it. I'm throwing my head back, a blushy pile now. Rocking my hips, bucking and twisting. But the touches and the comments and the tickles never cease~

Not until I'm completely fuzzy and writhing in my bonds, barely responding to the touches and words ~ at least until, I feel my thighs quivering. "Nnnhh...sthhhppp not thereeee sooo not theree~" I whimper, and quickly stop my pleading, arching in a huge giggly moan when he takes a single finger to tap on the buckle ~ admonishment, tease, and warning all in one motion. I take my thigh tickles in good nature, trying to keep my legs open and still. He smirks and those fingers wiggle up and down exploring freely my trembling muscles. I'm a gasping mess, giggling and groaning and stifling my begs taking all that taunting sensation. The fingers gliding on that skin sends my toes curling, my body was already wanting and now this puts me over the top. And he finally acknowledges my princess part ~ that swollen mound in my shorts aching and begging for attention all through this session. With a click, my favorite ~ the magic wand ~ kicks to life and he wastes no time bringing it right to my death spot through the thick material of the shorts and dainty fabric of my panties. The dual layer of trembling sensation has me gigglemoaning desperately in an instant ~ which is why he only lets the wand graze and lightly kiss my royal area.

"Commmmeeee onnnnn let me gigglecummmm I've sooo earned iitttt right? all those dances with youuuu I think I promised you teases right? That's like a hhuuuundred dollar valueee to someoneeee maybee? I dunno I do it for free maybe I should charge heyyyy like let's setup premium packages you and I we'll go into businessssss just nnnnh let meee giggledrop firewooorksss!!"

My words sail into the distance past his unwavering teasing form. The wand bounces and jumps from spot to spot keeping me guessing with varying speeds in the vibrations. His fingers continue to torment my thighs, occasionally breaking to tease a hip or my navel or readjust my belt with a taunt which never fails to make me gasp out madly. And the buzzing never quits, never allows me up over the edge ~ only to visit, to briefly glimpse what it might be like to tumble into that golden kingdom of freely flowing giggledrops ~ and then it pulls back, leaving my shorts all strained and throbbing, how silly ~ while I'm tickled all through the edge with those masterful wiggly fingers~

And supposedly we're going all night~ maybe that's what he said, or I said. It's all fuzzies from here~

[buckyhoney-library]

worst behavior, b.b

A/N: Surprise, i released it earlier than expected! I just- i hope you enjoy, bc this is probably the filthiest thing i've written- i also changed the plot a little bit!

Request: hiiii could i request a one-shot where professor!bucky sees you eyeing his metal arm bc he pushed his sleeves up one hot day and proceeds to keep you after class to do smth abt it? you can make it as kinky as you like, maybe some degrading and breeding if you’re comfortable w that! ugh i’m a whore for professor!bucky

reblogs & likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged

Warnings: 18+, professor!bucky, dom!bucky, age gap (f early 20's), degrading kink, public masturbation, oral (m&f), fingering, spanking, light choking, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, sorry for any missed typos!

Word Count: 4.6k, you already know i get carried away with bucky

You shuffle through the hallways of the historic building. The walls are decorated with paintings and engravings. Students walking in various directions making the hallway crowded and hard to get through. Every now and then, students would stop to talk to friends or professors. This halts the moving traffic, causing jams and irritated groans from other students. The satisfaction sets in when you glance down at the time and notice it’s nine fifty-seven. In three minutes, you’ll be officially late to class.

The other classes you take bore you- making it hard to stay focused. They are the generic first-year classes that everybody dreads. You always end up doodling or drifting in and out of sleep throughout the period- but this class? This is the only class that excites you.

World History with Professor Barnes.

You wake up extra early in the morning to get ready for his class. You put a little more effort into your appearance than the other classes. The thought of the professors and students seeing you in sweats and hoodie didn’t bother you. Professor Barnes’s class on the other hand- you made sure you looked put together. His lecture has you wanting to wear the shortest sundresses with little to nothing underneath them.

Being late to Professor Barnes’s class is frowned upon and requires immediate attention when it becomes excessive. The immediate attention was an after-hours meeting with Professor Barnes to discuss what could possibly be more important than his lecture.

The first time you showed up late, happened to be the first day of class. When you rushed into the lecture hall, your heart nearly stopped by the man in front of you. Brunette hair’s swept back, piercing blue eyes, and a button-up that looked a size too small- showing off his bulging biceps. The fitted navy-blue button-up was rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone. His biceps on full display through the material- showing off the vibranium. You swallowed hard as he began to scold you in front of the entire hall.

“I do not tolerate tardiness. Enough tardies require a private meeting after hours.” His light blue eyes never broke contact with yours, darkening with lust the longer he looks at you- taking you all in.

It was almost as if he was telling you to be late. There is a faint heartbeat between your legs, you cross them in fear he could hear the throbbing from where he stands. You began to daydream about the warm metal wrapped around your throat, while his other fingers were buried inside you. Or the prints that would be left against the flesh of your ass. You nod slowly with the most innocent eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Barnes. I had gotten lost. It will never happen again.” You say innocently, playing up the role- even going as far as pouting your lips.

Bucky’s cock twitched at the sight of your puffed-out lips. Begging to be made an example out of you in front of the class. You smile back at him, patiently waiting to be excused to your seat.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Ms?”

“Y/L/N.” You purr.

“You may find a seat Ms. Y/L/N.”

He looks are you properly, eyeing you up and down. His eyes fixated on your hips, swaying side to side as you walk up the steps, your skirt flapping up behind you- teasing him. Bucky knew you were going to be trouble this semester- and trouble is exactly what you had been for the last month.

You did everything in your power to get him to keep you after class. Bucky is getting more and more fed up with you- acting so innocent. He knew damn well that you want nothing more than to have your pretty little mouth stuffed with his cock- gagging and gasping for breath.

He hates that you are pretending like you had no idea the amount of frustration you are causing him. The amount of self-control Bucky exhibits is astounding. Especially on the days, you come in wearing close to nothing- claiming it was ‘just too hot outside’ or when you sit in the front row with a lollipop in your mouth, exaggerating the moans as you suck the red hard candy.

-

You straighten out the wrinkles out of the floral baby blue sundress, before turning the knob on the door.

“Ms. Y/L/N. You’re late- again.” Professor Barnes states sternly, not bothering to look at you.

Bucky caught a glimpse out of the side of his eye- you were wearing his favorite dress and knew he couldn’t look at you in the eye without taking you right there.

This is Bucky’s favorite dress. He loves the way it holds your breasts higher and how it hangs over the curve of your ass so nicely.

How much prettier would the dress look across his lap.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you when you walk and the dress flows with every step- sometimes a little too much. This grants him a sneak peek of your favorite lacey white panties- or sometimes the lack thereof. He stiffens at the sight of the fabric covering your pretty little cunt, taunting him.

For the past month, all Bucky could think about is that cunt. How tight you’d be around him- hearing you whimper and whine when he finally enters you, stretching you out to fit perfectly. He wonders if you could take him all at once or if he needs to warm you up with his fingers- but the thing he thought about the most: how sweet you must taste. The question alone could get him off.

How desperately he wants a taste of you.

“Mr. Barnes I am sorry-“ You begin to play into your act before he cut you off,

“Find your seat.” He still not bothering to look at you.

Disappointment floods your face from the lack of attention. In an effort for payback, you sit in the first row already pouting. He began the lecture by discussing the homework he had assigned the night before. You reach into your bag, pulling out the folder.

Expecting you to be in your usual spot in the back of the lecture hall, Bucky clenches his jaw at the sight of you sitting with your legs crossed shut in the front row, with your elbows on the small desk and hands cupping your face in boredom. His cock began to stir. Your breasts press together against the thin fabric- that is working extra hard to keep your breasts from being on display for everyone.

You see the frustration written on his face the moment he finally looks at you. You smirk at the successful payback.

The class goes on, but the material bores you. You begin to stare at Professor Barnes. You could hear the small adjustments from the vibranium as he moves about the lecture hall. Your breath hitches when he rolls his sleeves up. His biceps bulging against the fabric, a faint throbbing begins between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek holding back a whimper. You squirm in your seat, uncrossing your legs to press them together to relieve some pressure.

The sinful thought begins to overtake your mind, only making the throbbing worse by the added arousal pooling against the lace. Checking each side of you, you look to see if there are any other students close enough to you that were about to witness this risky act. There are students staggered behind you, but only a couple dare to sit in the first rows. They are intently listening to their professor- who has his attention on the chalkboard.

You swallow a lump, attempting to steady your breathing. You slip your hand below the desk, resting it on your upper thigh. With one more quick scan of the room, you slip your hand underneath your dress.

You inhale sharply at the contact with your aching cunt. The slow circles you draw over your lacey panties release a wave of pleasure. Your lips part and your eyes flutter. The idea of someone catching you- the idea of him catching you? Made the arousal seep through the material getting on your fingers. You close your eyes dreaming about how Bucky’s fingers would dip between your folds, collecting the arousal and forcing you to taste yourself. You could imagine the pornographic scene play out in your mind, the heavy panting and degrading remarks- your fingers slip inside the thin fragile material. The satisfaction of making direct contact with the bundle of nerves makes it almost impossible to bit back any moans. Instead, you let out silent breaths.

Your imagination continues with his fingers going back between the folds, teasing the entrance- making you whine. Bucky’s other hand groping your breasts harshly. The focus is solely on the clit that throws you hurtling toward your orgasm. You brace yourself for the pleasurable release.

Bucky turns around to flip the page of the textbook when he sees it- sees your legs parted with your middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. He holds his breath, not believing the whore in front of him. Your pants becoming faster and heavier. The pleasure begins to boil over, sending you over the edge. You remove your fingers covering your mouth to muffle the whimpers.

When you come down enough to open your eyes, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach. Red flushing your cheeks and your chest tightens- you have been caught. His jaw hung open in disbelief at what he just witnessed. This is the final straw, touching yourself in class? Cumming in class- in front of him. There is no hiding the growing bulge in his pants.

Bucky slams shut the textbook, The other students sit in confusion at the sudden outburst from their Professor.

“Make sure you read the rest of the chapter. Class dismissed.” He almost growls.

Bucky takes cover at his desk, covering any evidence of an erection. He pulls a random stack of papers to distract himself from the bulge in his pants.

You hurry to pack away your things- you know that you are in a world of trouble and wish to leave the room as fast as possible.

You pull the bag over your shoulder and head straight for the door, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Ms. Y/L/N. Stay.” His voice booming in the near-empty room.

You freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You turn around to face the furious man seated behind the desk. The one man that now held all the power to expel you. You feel small and weak the closer you get to his desk. He waits till the last student leaves the room.

“Yes, Professor Barnes?” Anxiety begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

“We need to discuss your behavior. Follow me.” The demand making you shiver.

Your legs wobble as you follow him to the room just off the lecture hall. It is his office. It is bigger than you have imagined it. The smell of oak and cigars filling your lungs the moment you enter. His dark mahogany desk is the focal point of the room. The walls are decorated with artwork he had collected over the years. The dark brown curtains are pulled shut. The only light source being the two standing lamps on reside on each side of his bookshelf. Knick-knacks covering the surfaces of the shelves and desk.

“Sit.” His voice is stern laced with lust.

The restricting fabric of the briefs and pants makes the bulge painful. You sit in the chair in front of his desk with your ankles crossed and hands in your lap.

“First, you’re late to my class.” He is stalks around you- like your prey. His arms crossed tightly against his chest.

“Then, you wear this provocative dress.” Bucky’s fingers glide up your arm, grazing over the thin strap on your shoulder. His touch burning your skin.

“Then, you proceed to touch yourself in the middle of my lecture- cumming all over yourself like a disgusting little whore.” His words starting up the throbbing.

Bucky leans against the edge of the desk and your eyes are fixated on your lap- not daring to make eye contact.

“I have every right to expel you,” You inhale preparing yourself.

“-but I’m not going to.” Your eyes shoot up meeting his.

They’re filled to the brim with lust and desire. You gain a boost of confidence soars through you with the knowledge that you aren’t getting expelled.

He tilts your chin up to him, getting a better look at you. Using your chin to turn your face to each side- examining the mouth that will soon be full of him.

Bucky runs his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling at it- parting your lips. You push your head forward, taking his thumb in your mouth- closing your lips around him. You hum, innocently locking eyes with him.

You had no idea what you just started.

A devilish grin tugs on the corners of his mouth at the sight of you taking his thumb. You hallow your cheeks, sucking gently.

“What a good little slut.” He purrs. Bucky removes his thumb and stands.

“But, you’re not getting off that easily. Come.”

You stand to your feet moving to stand in front of him. The throbbing increases between your thighs and the arousal seeping through your panties. Bucky looks down at you touching your shoulder and neck. He finally rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the flesh gently. You swallow, tensing and untensing your jaw. Bucky sense your nerves,

“It’s okay, princess- you’ll only be a little sore.” Your heart skips a beat.

Your panties are now drenched in your wetness and you swear he could hear the throbbing. You dreamt for this day. He pulls your lips to his. Finally meeting yours. It is slow and passionate; you didn’t know if you could touch him- but he has his hands holding the sides of your face.

“On your knees.” His voice is low and dark.

You drop to your knees. You’re now eye to eye with his bulge. The hardened cock makes your mouth water. You lick your lips, looking at him before you reach for his belt. He nods granting you permission. The belt is undone along with the button of his dress pants. Your slow movements have Bucky in a trance. His eyes don’t leave you.

You tug the pants down, his length still trapped behind the black briefs. You feel his length and hear a low groan escapes his mouth. You place small pecks on top of the clothed member. You are salivating with every kiss, growing more eager. The underwear is pulled down, freeing the aggravated cock. It’s red and looks like it is going to burst within seconds. The girth and length surprises you and you begin to wonder if you can even fit him inside you- let alone your mouth. Nerves build within you and hesitantly look up at Professor Bucky.

“I don’t know if it will fit,” Your voice is quiet, he chuckles and lifts your chin once more.

“Make it fit.” His voice is just above a whisper, but dark and stern.

At that moment you realize that this wasn’t going to be a quick punishment. He is going to make you wish you never wore short dresses, late to his class, or cum in front of him. Bucky licks his lips in awe of how beautiful you looked kneeling in front of him. All the fantasies are about to come true.

You take his length in your small hands; you use both hands to warm him up- slowly building him up. The strokes begin slow and sloppy. Your thumb going over his tip. It’s angry and swollen, it’s begging to be drained. You rub small circles around it- mimicking your movements from earlier. Bucky’s breathing becomes slow pants. The pleasure building with each stroke.

You mentally prepare yourself, collecting all the saliva you could to the front of your mouth. You flicker your eyes up, the grin that grows on his face as you close your lips around his tip encourages you. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping the strands at the root.

“Yes, take my cock in your mouth you filthy slut.” You hum around him.

He begins to slowly push your head closer to his pelvis, forcing you to take more of him. You were only halfway down his shaft when you gripped his thighs for support. Your ankles are crossed behind you and you are leaning back sitting on your feet.

Bucky didn’t care about staying silent. His low grunts and heavy pants left his lips as he grips your hair. The pure bliss he is experiencing is unlike anyone he’s had before. Based on your performance, he knew that you have had experience before. The thought of other men in your mouth drove him insane. His grip on your hair guides your mouth up and down his cock. He became more aggressive with his grip, quickening his pace.

“I just know you’ve been dreaming about my cock filling your mouth, hm? You’re such a stupid slut- wanting to suck your professor’s cock,” He moans.

You’re gagging on his length, trying your hardest to keep from pulling off of him. You hallow your cheeks adding extra pleasure and using one hand to pump the length while he guides your head. The longer you’re taking him in your mouth the less air you’re getting, the veins in your neck become prominent. You dig your nails into his thigh. Bucky hisses at the feeling of your nails sinking into his skin.

“That’s right, princess. You feel so good around my cock,” He purrs watching the tears forming from in the corners of your eyes.

You can’t take anymore without feeling like you were going to choke. Bucky feels the resistance of you attempting to pull off of him. He pushes your head fully down his length, causing a pornographic moan to leave his lips. Bucky yanks the roots of your hair, ripping you off his length. You gasp for air and cough at the sudden ability to breathe. Saliva coats your lips and his thighs.

“You better finish what you started.” Bucky hisses,

You nod wiping your mouth. This time around, he has precum oozing from his tip. You gather it with your thumb and coat the rest of his length, using it as lubrication. You take him once more, this time using both hands and your mouth. The combo is enough to send Bucky into orbit, but when you start sucking his tip and swirling your tongue around it- he knew it would be a matter of seconds before he would release his load.

“You taste so good, Professor.” You hum against his tip, your movements become faster- not bothering with a slow build.

Bucky grips the edge of the desk, you hear the vibranium cracking through the wood. The sound only eggs you on. The sounds of your slurping and moans, cause Bucky to twitch inside your mouth- signaling he is gonna cum at any moment.

Within seconds your mouth is filled with strings of cum. Bucky’s hips buck as your mouth continues to suck him off. The taste of him has become addicting, you want every last drop of him. You pull off of him, wiping up the spilled cum on your chin. Sucking it off of your finger.

“Shit, princess. You did so well finishing every drop.” He pulls you up from your knees.

“-but that doesn’t mean you’re done. You still need to be punished for your behavior in class. Do you understand?” You nod.

Bucky walks behind his desk. You follow, nervous about what your punishment will be.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N. Bend over.” You do as you say.

Your breast smush against the dark wood, your eyes fixated on the photographs of him with family and friends. You smirk to yourself and look back at him. Bucky’s fingers trail up the backs of your thighs. He lifts the pretty blue sundress, finally seeing that perfect ass up close. Bucky’s cock throbs again when he sees that the underwear you’re wearing the cheeky white lace. So innocent, he thought. Bucky runs his palm over the meaty flesh, gripping and jiggling it. He moans at its effortless movement.

“Fuck!” You yelp, his palm makes contact with your ass cheek.

“I told you, princess. You need to be punished. Count them.” Another rough smack.

“Two.” The tears returning to your eyes, but the pleasure overpowers the pain.

You arch your back, wiggling your ass higher in the air, this time, he is able to get a sneak peek of the covered cunt that lived in his mind.

“Three,” This time, your eyes roll back and you’re seeing stars.

Bucky takes notice of just how soaked you are. He pulls the lace with his metal fingers, tearing through them in an effortless tug. The strings of arousal follow the fabric as it is thrown to the ground.

“Oh? You like getting punished? You soaked through your panties. You really are a fucking whore.” He runs his middle finger down your center, your body twitches once he reaches your swollen and needy clit. Bucky kneels, coming face to face with the glistening beauty. His dream is coming to a reality, he is finally going to taste you.

His tongue dips between your folds, causing you to gasp at the unexpected pleasure. Your ass is still in the air and his hands are gripping your inner thigh, pulling them apart, allowing more access to your sopping cunt.

“Just like I imagined it, so fucking sweet.” He is breathless, the taste of you becomes his new favorite flavor.

Bucky’s tongue licks up the access arousal and his thumb rubs small circles around your clit, making you whine against his desk. His mouth begins to place open mouth kisses against you, his tongue dipping inside you. You need something to grip and release the pent-up pleasure but result to releasing through you moans and whines. It is music to Bucky’s ears.

He pulls away from your dripping cunt, kicking your legs open, spreading them- giving him the best access he could get. His mouth returns to you. But this time giving full attention to your clit.

“I’m too big for your hole, princes. I have to stretch you out.” You whine, as his middle and ring finger slide inside you.

You’re a whimpering mess on his desk as his mouth and fingers switched places. His fingers stretching you out and his mouth on your clit. Bucky moans into you at the feeling of your pussy pulsating against his fingers. You are in pure bliss as he pumps his fingers, occasionally curling- hitting the spongey flesh of your g-spot. He swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it and releasing it with a pop. You feel yourself hurdling towards your orgasm. The pulsating becomes quicker, and the moans are now endless streams. Bucky knew you’re close to cumming around his fingers, but you had already came today. He removes his fingers and mouth in one swoop, leaving you breathless and irritated.

“You already came today; only well-behaved whores get to cum.”

You stare back at him in anger. Your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting like you just ran a marathon. He takes amusement at the sight of you looking like a mess.

“Professor, please! I’ve been a good girl!” You whine, wiggling your ass backwards.

“I’ll think about it. It depends on how well you take this cock, princess.” You nod your head, bracing yourself.

Bucky pumps himself a few times before he slides his tip against your cunt. You dreamed of the moment you would feel him inside you. Him sliding into you and filling you up. The need and desire overtaking you and bucking your hips into his cock.

“I said to be good.” A more aggressive smack lands on your ass, this time he used the vibranium. You yelp in pain, knowing there is going to be a handprint on your ass. Branding you.

You gasp at the sudden fullness.

“I was going to be gentle, since you are not used to a cock as big as me, but since you want to be an inpatient slut- now I’m not going too.” Bucky rams his cock into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

He grunts at the sound of your whines and whimpers. He grips your hips using it to increase his speed. The purple and red marks form, where his fingers dig into you. Bucky groans at how tight you feel around him. The resistance from your walls getting him closer and closer.

Bucky continues at his pace while, but this time gripping the back of your neck. He tugs you back, lifting you. Your hands palm down on the desk, using it as stability. One of his hands pins your hands behind your back. Bucky pulls you back, flushing your bodies together. His fingers wrap around your neck. Your head falls back against his shoulder moaning at the sensation of his fingers around your throat. Bucky’s rhythm doesn’t slow down now that you’re standing. Your legs are still wide allowing him to go deep and hard.

“You’re such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” You couldn’t even think.

You have entered another world. Your hands are still pinned behind you and your eyes are rolling back from the feeling of his other. All you could do is moan and sink into his cock.

“Fucking yourself in front of the class and cumming all over yourself- you fucking loved the idea of getting caught huh? I bet you would love someone to walk through that door and catch me fucking your sweet cunt.”

His words only push you further into nirvana. Your legs begin to feel weak, and the responsibility of standing is becoming too much. Bucky notices the sudden inability to stand.

“You gonna cum, princess?” You are barely able to function. You moan in response and he thrusts quicken- if that is even possible.

“Cum, princess. Cum around my cock,”

You see stars as a wave of pleasure washes overtakes you and you feel pure ecstasy. Your cunt contracts around his cock, sending Bucky over the edge. His cock pulsating and shoot loads of cum inside you, filling you once more.

“Fuck!” He moans one last time.

He collapses on top of you. Your hands catching your bodies as you lay pressed against his desk once again. Bucky pulls himself out of you, leaking with cum. You whimper at the sudden loss of fullness.

Your legs felt weak and standing on your own seemed like an impossible task. You are trying to catch your breath. The high cooling off and you regain the ability to talk.

You push yourself up, feeling the cum run onto your inner thigh. Bucky grabs a handful of tissues, wiping away the cum. He helps you sit down on his chair. Your breathing finally slows and the adrenaline wears off. You begin to feel the aftermath of every mark and muscle. You groan as you try to move from the seat.

Bucky walks over to you handing you a bottle of water and switches places with you, so you are now on his lap.

“I told you would be a little sore,” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your temple.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #professor!bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine

[rocorambles]

Patient 1: Addiction

Pairing: Toji x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Predator and Prey themes, Cum play, Knife play, Non-Con, Degradation

Link to: Prologue

Patient Name: Fushiguro Toji

Diagnosis: Adrenaline Addiction

Your brow furrows as you stare down at your first patient’s files. An addiction isn’t uncommon, but to adrenaline? You suppose it’s possible to become addicted to just about anything. Yet there are a million questions buzzing on the tip of your tongue as you turn to Uraume who just shrugs and says you’re better off hearing it straight from Toji’s own mouth.

Everything about this psychiatric facility is strange and you curiously stare at the elevator buttons as both of you descend, noting how each button has a name of a patient next to it with the final button having no label.

“Each patient has their own floor. They’ve been here for so long that we thought it would be more humane to give them ample room to live in instead of the standard patient rooms you typically see in other facilities. After all, we’re not here to treat them like caged animals, right?”

The humanitarian in you can’t defy that logic, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s safe for them to not be bound during your session, only to cringe at your own thoughts. They’re just ill patients, humans just like you, not prisoners. With that newfound determination you stride out of the elevator only to freeze when you hear the outer elevator cage slam close on your heels.

You turn, hoping to see Uraume right behind you, but your heart sinks when you see them safely on the other side of the metal fence, an eerie grin on their face as the actual elevator doors slide shut, leaving you with some parting words.

“I’ll see you when you’re done seeing all your patients today.”

Not even seconds pass before you’re scrambling to look for a button or anything to help pry open the elevator doors, fear overwhelming you as Uraume’s ominous farewell haunts you. But there’s no escape and you turn around to take in your surroundings, trembling and on the verge of tears.

Expansive is an understatement and you nervously walk around the dimly lit area, quickly losing track of all the rooms, corridors, and dead ends you bypass and amble through despite doing your best to keep track of everything. It almost feels like it’s meant to be a maze or obstacle course of sorts…

“Well, well, well. Look at the new little mouse I’ve found.”

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest only to still in shock when you see a familiar face grinning at you, immediately connecting it to the manilla folder tightly clenched in your hands.

“Fushiguro Toji?”

“And you must be the new shrink. Follow me, doc. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. They always do.”

You don’t want to think about what’s happened to your predecessors, this “they” Toji’s referring to. You don’t want to follow this stranger. You don’t want to be trapped in this unknown environment with a highly dangerous patient and no means of escape. But what choice do you have? And with limbs weighted with despair, you trail after the dark haired man.

You’re surprised when Toji leads you into a room not far off from the police interrogation rooms you’ve seen in movies. A single table with a chair on either side are the only furniture in the room and you quietly take a seat across from where Toji has casually slumped himself down. But you note how his large stature easily overwhelms the small space, making the substantial table between you seem meaningless.

There’s silence as you fidget and fumble with Toji’s file, trying to find any professionalism and composure you have left as said patient continues leering at you, an amused smirk ever present on his face. It feels silly to treat this like any other examination, but it seems like the only thing you can do, what Toji himself is expecting of you.

“What is...what is adrenaline addiction, in your own words?”

You wonder if this is what opening Pandora’s box felt like, the question barely out of your mouth before regret instantly seizes you as Toji’s grin only grows wider and sharper, a crazed look in his eyes when he replies.

“It means I like being excited a little too much, doc.”

“And what excites you?”

You don’t want to know his response, but it’s the only way forward and dread fills you as he responds.

“Oh, lots of things. The burn of my throat and rush to my head after taking a shot. Gambling and the uncertainty of whether you’ll win or lose. The look of despair on my victim’s face when I shove a knife through their beating heart. The way it feels so fucking perfect to shove my dick in any tight hole it’ll fit in. But you know what makes me the most excited, doc?”

It’s theatrical how he tapers off, green eyes piercing you as he silently orders you to acknowledge him. And all you can do is shake your head side to side, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you play right into his hands.

“What makes me the most excited is the thrill of hunting pretty prey like you.”

Instincts have you jumping out of your chair and bolting from the room. You don’t dare turn to see if Toji is chasing you down, his amused cackle at your expense trailing behind you. You’re blindly running, no sense of direction as you randomly turn left and right, your only prerogative to keep moving, hopefully farther and farther from your patient. Every corridor, every passage, every room looks the same and you struggle to breathe as quietly as you can despite the way your lungs ache.

You strain to listen, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the drumming of your racing heart and you don’t hear the figure casually ambling towards you until you’re being roughly shoved face first into the wall you’re leaning on, a toned figure pressed against your back, caging you in.

“Now, now. You’re making this way too easy. Tired already?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one you can’t bring yourself to answer anyway, not with the way your teeth chatter and your body trembles in fear as Toji loudly inhales your scent while he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, tongue lazily licking a strike of your salty sweat.

You sob as he harshly bites down, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave you aching and hold you still as his hands wander underneath your clothes, groping and kneading your breasts and ass. You’re too scared to move, fearing the consequences of resisting, praying that maybe this is it, that you’ll be let off when he gets his fill of feeling you up. But you can’t help the way you yelp and instinctively struggle against his hold when he tires of your frozen state and decides to ruthlessly twist your nipples and shove a thick finger into your tight hole.

“There we go. Glad to know you’re still alive and kicking. I don’t enjoy fucking dead and broken toys like that pink haired bastard does.”

Pink haired bastard? Your mind briefly flashes to a hazy picture you’re sure you had seen in one of the patient files. What was his name-

You shriek as Toji shoves another finger alongside the digit already in you, sobbing as you feel him stretching your walls, relentlessly pounding his fingers in and out of you, his fingers painfully pulling at your nipples. All you hear is his grunts in your ears and you clench your eyes in disgust when you feel a long hard object grinding against you, knowing full well what it is without even looking.

He’s going to rape and kill you. This is how it all ends. And you wait for it, the searing pain of that massive shaft impaling you. But it never comes and before you know it you’re moaning as he twists and flexes until he finds that soft spongy spot inside of you, insistently rubbing and stroking it with curled fingers as he continues dry humping you from behind.

You’re so lost in the sensations that you don’t notice how your body is betraying you as it unconsciously grinds back against Toji’s hand, your ass shaking and pressing even harder against Toji’s cock. It’s funny how easily you’ve lost any common sense, but you’re not here to be a vapid bimbo toy. He’ll save that side of you for one his fellow inhabitants who’ll appreciate it more and he abruptly pulls his now soaked digits out of you, snorting at how you whine from the loss.

You look so confused, so stupid as he rapidly finishes himself off, hooking down your bottoms low enough for him to shoot his sticky seed all over the inner fabric of your panties. And he grins when you practically moan as he pulls your undergarments back into place, cruelly tugging a tad too hard and wedging his cum and the stained lace deep between your abused folds.

You’re panting, looking like a wreck as you try to ground yourself from the dizzying confusion of being pulled right from the brink of an orgasm, the emptiness of your edging making your head foggy. But then something sharp is being pressed against your vulnerable neck and it’s enough to have fear jolt you back to your senses.

“Don’t be such a boring slut. Time to run and hide again. It’s playtime, bitch. Or maybe you need me to cut you up a bit. Pain’s always a good motivator.”

He’s barely finished speaking before you’re shoving him and his knife away from you and he whistles in appreciation as he watches you race away again, taking his time to tuck himself back in his pants. You’ll need as much of a head start anyway to even try and remotely make some sense of this labyrinth he knows every corner of. Not that any advantage will actually help you much. Toji’s never had a prey he couldn’t catch.

How many times has he found you and released you after defiling you just a bit more every time? Neither of you can keep track and only when Toji has shoved his cock in all three of your holes, filling every orifice with his cum and fuckig you until you can barely walk does your session end. It’s almost comical how he has to quite literally drag you back to the elevator you had come from and he cruelly laughs at the white sticky trail you’re leaving behind you with your loose holes unable to keep in the copious fluids.

You barely register what’s happening, too exhausted, too fucked out of your mind to even be bothered by the rough friction of the ground against your body, only mildly stunned by the fact that the elevator you had frantically tried to re-enter is now innocently open. And it’s with muted despair that you realize what fate has in store for you as Toji presses the button of the next lower level.

Gojo Satoru

The neatly labeled name is all you register before the elevator doors slide open and you’re shoved out of it, blearily making out the sight of Toji tauntingly waving at you from inside the metal enclosure.

“See you at tomorrow’s session, doc.”

Your world goes dark as the elevator doors shut.

#toji x reader #yandere toji #yandere jujutsu kaisen #toji smut #tw: yandere #tw: noncon

[thrillridesz]

heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs​ + @ickjun​

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ fic playlist: get you to the moon - KinaBeats ft. Snøw | Amnesia - 5SOS | You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift | Confetti Falling - Big Time Rush | Go Season - Devin Bronson (highly recommended for the racing scene) | Love Story - Taylor Swift 

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

#kpopscape #kpopcatalog #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct x reader #nct 127 jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct fics #nct oneshots #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #nct fluff #nct angst #nct jaehyun imagines #nct jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun oneshots #jaehyun fics #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 oneshots

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Silver Exposure pt. 1

Libbys and Beetles

Written:  03 Oct 2019

Pairing: Black Female Reader x dark!Bucky Barnes

Summary:  This story is alternative universe. I set it in a time where there are still a few more Avengers post Snap.

The Silver State, you had finally arrived. Southern Nevada, dusty, with scattered shrubs and Joshua trees swept past the charter bus window. You zoned out on the fuchsia flooding rocky towers of a canyon turning the rust-colored sand stones a bright orange. The evening sunlight over the landscape would have been beautiful if you had wanted to be there. In this moment you both regretted the service call and missed your small box apartment. As the recycled sticky bus air settled in your nose and on your skin you shifted in the worn thin seat.

You kept your eyes pointed out on the dry land. Mildly relaxed in your surroundings you knew it was a temporary feeling. The further you traveled from home the more aware you became that the country was reaching a point of no return. But you were from Texas, the big country county municipality specifically, where people mostly still flourished despite influences from the Liberties. You hadn’t experienced much of the effects of the fighting there. It was highly suspected to be the seat of power for the Liberties, though you never saw evidence to support the claim.

You held from the largest amassed independent settlement. Clean water, amply supplies of energy and people, lots of them, most had arrived in the last year seeking refuge. It was a paradise compared to other parts of the country. But for the last few days of getting off and then getting back on this bus had given you perspective. Something you seriously assumed each side lacked.

You noticed that most things that passed the bus window was covered in thick black soot and filth. Unkempt, and uncared for. There were hollowed-out homes too, their skeletons poking out of the skyline of ghostly towns, ashen totems of a time that had little regard for life.  

But as the bus traveled nearer to the Bosch Settlement, dread grew and began to whip around in your chest. Far louder than the rumble of the bus helicopters cruised above and the distance buzzed drones that stroked your anxiety further.

You thought the joint armistice of the U.S. and their Liberty enemies would have been cleaner. And yet assorted shanties sprung up along the outside of the settlement. The smell inside the cabin of the bus sank into a musty odor, rank, it had you holding your nose. You looked back to the other passengers, even to the man sitting to your left. Though he did not move, instead, his warm eyes regarded you indifferently.

“Cost of war and all that shit.” He shrugged and then leaned his head back shutting his eyes. “Someone had to pay for it.” mumbled the man.

Your eyes fell to the back of the chair in front of you. Someone was paying, because now each side was losing. After the epic failure of the Avengers the country ground to an agonizing stop. Half of all life on the continent disappeared. Then when people realized it was not just the U.S. but the world and the Universe, people gave up, while others began to fight back. The country was ripe for a fight it could not handle or could truly stop.

Of course, you weren’t one of those who fought.

You had lost everything in the Blip. Your friends, your family. You were alone. There was little fight left in you to argue with the technicalities of what revenge looked like.

But other people, far more motivated, figured out the power in brutal retribution. It didn’t take a year, after the Blip the protests against government misdeeds started. Then, strategic minds took advantage of the distraction. The Liberties, libbys, named by the media, struck first. They burned empty government buildings. It did not affect you, at least, not at first.

The government reacted, banned all protests, declared martial law enacted by the remains of the US military. They swarmed in their signature gear of black shiny armor that gave them the nickname, beetles.

It only stirred the pot more by angering the Liberties. So they bombed the industrial resources; farms, ammunition supplies, water storage facilities and then factories and some of those did have people in them. That move hit you hard, it took from your community. So much for the equality and freedom they wanted. The mass attacks halted what little supplies your town could gather. And overnight any opportunity to move beyond the Blip had vanished.

Civil war erupted. Whether deliberate or not that’s what happened. And it occurred faster than anybody could have imagined. Even for the supers. It was rare to even see them out anymore. And within another year the country was shapeless with no direction and little trust from either side.

But here you were, almost five years since the Blip, you were an old hand at managing this level of anxiety you lived at now. The twist in your gut wasn’t anything compared to the first few weeks without a stable supply of water. Or seeing the most at risk starve. You lived. Though now you were much less apt to meet new people, it wasn’t shyness, it was just smart to not make friends. It was easier that way.

Both sides ruined infrastructure. Their little skirmishes, the tit for tat retaliation took their toll. Roads, hospitals, factories, and services were in desperate repair. It was already on the decline anyway without the people to work. But each side decided a short truce was in order. And at a designated area, it was in their best interest to gather the country’s greatest resource, people.

Last week the council members of the county gathered as requested, albeit ordered to do so by the Libby leaders, to choose. You didn’t want to go. Even if your existence was listless you didn’t want to lose your life over stubbornness, so you obeyed. You had skills. Before the Blip, your café was successful. Well, as great as a small town hole in the wall could be. So your records indicated as food service. That made you of use and to be of service to the cause.

You were told to bring two weeks’ worth of clothing and that toiletries would be supplied to you. But you didn’t leave it to chance so you packed light. The fear that shit could turn bad kept you still inside your head and ready for anything. Easy enough. Just like the supposed olive branch of a settlement you were being hauled off too.

They wanted clean potential workers so you tucked your best in there too. At the last rest area, you changed. And currently, the skirt you wore, rode up uncomfortably over your thighs. The exposed warm umber skin pebbled from the cold circulated air. The heels on your feet made your toes numb but you wore them regardless. Besides, you were too scared to find what your feet would find on the floor of the bus if you took them off.

Your eyes shifted back into the bus. Shades of navy and gray suits for the men, various blouses for women caught your eye again. But the man to your direct left wore a thin over-sized black jacket, gray lose pants like fatigue material and bright cobalt blue hiking boots. He was strange, a stand out within the cabin. The man appeared clean, unbothered by his surroundings. His dark tawny brown skin, glowed, not dulled by time or war it only seems to become more accentuated by the gold sharp edges of the necklace around his clavicle. Were those teeth? No, claws.

Smoothly he stroked back a few brown short, thin dreads from his forehead. He sighed, an exasperated puff of air from being watched and you quickly turned your eyes from him when he too began to look toward you.

You forced your wandering eyes back out the window. You sat like that for an hour. It was darker now, night had fallen so you concentrated on the bumpy asphalt, the trash in the ditches, and in the distance, the lights. The Bosch Settlement grew brighter. Maybe it was anticipation that bubbled in your stomach, more than likely it was the hot salami sandwich and warm water you had for lunch. Once again, avoiding the man near, your eyes darted to the other passengers. As a wave of movement carried over the crowded bus in nervous motions, they too were eager a few of them even started to gather their belongings.  

Without fail, another checkpoint sat a few yards away. The two lane highway lay heavily guarded by US military trucks for those leaving, and Libby militia terrain vehicles for those entering. There was an automatic jump in your blood pressure. You looked back out the window as the bus pulled up at the makeshift wooden and concrete stall. Libby volunteers dressed in the signature brown combat gear began to crowd around the bus.  

The bus jolted to a stop. Your head jerked with the motion as your eyes darted through the window into the dark. From the cloak of black in the desert German Sheppard’s ran before their handlers, sniffing and rooting out illegal contraband. You didn’t have anything on you. But you held your breath anyway.

The dry patch in the back of your throat moved to the roof of your mouth. Two Libby militia men boarded the bus, dressed in black with shades of muted wood and pebble. The first man in the desert fatigues pushed his way down the aisle snatching papers out of people’s hands then tossing it back at them. His automatic rifle hung down the middle of his chest occasionally clinking on the metal armrest of the passenger seats.

You tried to lean back, appear dutiful. But your eyes rushed from his gun to the people he interacted with.

Four seats away, the militia hooked his thumb at the taller bulkier companion.

“Take this one.” He shouted and moved on.

The other man quickly approached the area, he pulled across the elderly woman sitting on the other side of his target. A woman, brown-headed with tears in her eyes pleaded with the militia but he yanked her into the aisle then pushed her toward the exit.  

His voice carried to you softly, under his breath. “Relax. Don’t seize up and they won’t react.” said the man next to you.

You tongued at the dryness in your mouth. Still, you looked passed the coming figure, lost in the moment. Suddenly you realized that you were staring at a man a few seats up in the aisle.

Blue eyes, darkened but light and despite the approaching Libby, still he continued to watch you just the same.

“Papers!” said the man gruffly. “Where are they, we don’t have all fucking day.” He continued.

Breaking eye contact you hurriedly unfold the paper at the same time handing it to him. He snatched it out of your hands, his eyes read from left to right. The blond hair man looked at you then back at the paper. You were quickly unraveling at the length of time he was taking. Careful not to seem too anxious you tugged at your jacket righting yourself.

Finally, he tossed it back at you. It slipped through your fingers, hit your lap and slid into the floor. Grumbles began to start with the man directly behind you.  

“I won’t! You stupid sons of bitches.”  Cursed the older man his voice weathered and aged continued to argue. “’think you own everybody! I’m going to the Settlement for work!” He tried to speak again after that, but the sound of a hammer heating a raw roast stopped him.

“I’m..a citizen..” he moaned weakly.

You didn’t dare turn around. Your eyes flew to the window, the shadowy reflection caught your attention. The elderly man stood out the most. He was hunched over the back of his seat with the Libby cracking a smile. Boldly, a streak of blood, red glistening, dotted and smeared on the glass of the bus window.

The second militia came back on the bus, grabbed up the older man who could barely stand and dragged him off as well. The last twenty minutes of checks went much smoother. The Libby’s stepped off, the bus pulled away and you finally felt a bit of the panic subside.

When the bus finally pulled out of the checkpoint you hoped that this was the scariest this journey could possibly get. But the pang of fear in your chest had now spread as a numbing pain settling in your back. Nothing felt right and you were stuck right in the middle of it.

You weren’t aware when the bus pulled into the mall. You only just recognized the empty parking spaces as the bus stopped moving. The building, now devoid of any noticeable markers was simply bricks, untrimmed trees, and bushes. The dull piss-yellow light flooded out of the large floor-length windows, and the double glass doors where only the bottom level was illuminated.

“Remember that your passes to the motel down the street are at the kiosk!” shouted the driver, and then opened the door.

You sat there. The man next to you immediately pushed his way through the line. Your eyes followed him until you noticed the curious staring eyes of the man from across the aisle. He was watching the other passengers. Beneath the bill of his green and dirty white cap, his eyes studied one after the other. What you could see of his hair poked down the back of his head, brushing over a shorn cut. He was just as different, like the man who was near you during the trip. A gray jean jacket, probably it had black at one time but it was ratty on the corners. Maybe it was his favorite you thought.  He appeared healthy too, well-fed and bulky in his shoulders but slim in the waist. The color of his skin, paler than yours but tanned compared to others. He was handsome, disarmingly so and his attractiveness made him stand out all the more.

He turned his head in your direction. Quickly, you averted your eyes down to your bag feeling the energy of being caught you hitched it around your shoulders crossing the sling over your chest. Some of the people thinned out enough for you to step out. Ignoring the man to your left you kept moving, though you noticed it was completely free to walk out before you. He hung back, he waited until you approached then stepped behind you.

The feeling was back in your gut again, the gnawing fear, but you were sure it had not disappeared in the first place. Simply laid in wait. And it increased by ten when you felt him hovering at your back.

“They’re here too?” yelled a man from behind you. “Fuck! Can’t they just leave us be!” his voice boomed again.

You glanced out of the windows, Libby militia patrolled just beyond the mall doors. So you moved swiftly, grazing the tops of a few chairs as you passed and made room for your bag as you walked.

“Those fucking animals!” a shout erupted from far behind you once more. And so you kept moving, your foot nearly to the first descending step. “GET me off here!” the line suddenly jumped forward, pushing you down the stairs you missed the second.

Your bag, your body flung forward and you would have fallen right off the bus missing the stairs completely. Instead, you dangled, and then your feet grazed the last step until you were fully back on the platform.

The arm around your waist was hard, stiffer than flesh and much stronger it snaked away from you. Steadily, you jumped from the stairs and off the bus.

Turning to thank him, you whipped around but he was already heading inside. His long strides carried him passed the militia and into the mall.

#dark!Bucky Barnes #black!reader

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song v (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, fluff, smut; a shit ton of kissing, oral (f), seokjin likes eye contact, slight overstimulation, he also seems to have a slight potty mouth when turned on, romantic sex, protected sex, shower scene, oral (m), this chapter is basically just sex, enjoy! (yes, the dilf dick is b i g) lingerie described found here for the visuals ~  words; 9,572

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. You were like a little kid at the lead up to Christmas. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited for something. Actually, on second thoughts, you couldn’t think of a time you were this excited for anything, period. And all over the prospect of sleeping with Seokjin, and definitely not in the innocent way… He had in no way explicitly stated that you’d be having sex this week, but the insinuation was heavy in the air. Everything leading up to this moment was suggesting come Saturday night you would not be sat in front of Seokjin’s 75” television watching boxsets… 

On the morning of you decided to pack a few things in a small case. You definitely planned on returning home in the day if needed or bored while Seokjin was at work, but the essentials were required: underwear, pyjamas, a few outfits, toiletries and skincare, your iPad, miscellaneous chargers. Soojung on the other hand was acting like you were never coming back… 

“I’m going to miss you.” She whined, having been hovering around you as you packed. “Leaving me alone with smelly Tae.” 

In a bid not to be alone in the evenings she’d invited her smelly boyfriend over for the week, but although she sounded irked it was all just an act. God knows what they’d get up to while you were gone, you dreaded to think. On second thoughts, maybe it would be best to stay at Seokjin’s place all week… You had no clue what you’d walk in on in your own home.  

“I won’t be gone the whole week. Besides, we can meet up for lunch and stuff.” You often visited her at the department store, perusing the food court until it was time for her lunch break. You weren’t secluded from the whole world while away. What did she think was happening? 

She helped you fold your clothes in momentary silence, deep in thought it seemed. “What if you love it there and want to stay permanently Dilf mansion?” 

You scoffed immediately, taking the small pile of t-shirts from her to pack away. “Soo, way to jump the gun.” You’d been dating barely six weeks, hadn’t even had sex yet, moving in together was number 1 on the highly unlikely list. Although, sliding in a couple of pairs of flats into the top pocket of your case and zipping it up, you hummed in consideration. “Dilf mansion does have a ring to it though…” 

Soojung’s attention was on another pile of clothing now – one you would be wearing this evening to leave for Seokjin’s house. Her fingertips brushed along the delicate baby blue lace of your lingerie, sitting on top of the pile and she looked up at you and grinned wickedly. “You’re going to knock his socks off with this.” 

You and her had spent yesterday browsing the mall with a very important task. To decide on the most perfect lingerie set. Knowing Seokjin for a while know, you’d noticed he had an inclination for the colour blue, so your chosen piece had to be a winner – practically see-through, littered in beautiful lace flowers. You were well and truly prepared for tonight, you were a woman on a mission. 

“His Dilf socks,” you corrected your best friend, both of you instantly exploding into a fit of giggles. 

Arin had left with her grandparents this morning, and as much as Seokjin was eager to get this weekend started and see you immediately, he actually had a few things he needed to take care of at work. It wasn’t until around 5pm that you got into your car to make the short journey, Soo waving you off proudly like you were about to attend your graduation. You were honestly quite calm given the circumstances, although one look at Seokjin as he stepped out the front door to take your case and all inner composure was lost. You were one big ball of excitement, most of it flurrying around in the pit of your stomach. Yet you kept cool on the outside, grinning at the handsome man in front of you despite your lingerie burning marks into your skin. 

And handsome he was today, (as if he wasn’t every day), his dark hair parted in the centre of his forehead naturally, his eyes crinkling as he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You tasted a hint of mango on his mouth, an obvious sheen to his plump lips, and you presumed he’d applied some chapstick before you’d arrived – the chapstick you’d bought him not too long ago after he’d complained of cracked lips to you on the phone one night. 

“Hey,” he greeted softly, his arms around your waist, body pressed snuggly into yours. 

“Hey yourself,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, gazing into one another’s eyes before you lightly teased him. “Are we going to stay out here all night?” 

Chuckling heartily, he reached behind you, lifting your case with ease. “Let’s go put this in my room.” 

You’d never once stepped foot onto the upper level of his house before, so you were very observant on your way to his bedroom, eyes catching art pieces (you noticed numerous of Arin’s) and photos along the walls, light fixtures, as well as the odd plant here and there. You had to walk two flights of stairs to get to your destination, one average in length, the other shorter, veering off to the left of the corridor to reach a landing leading into his bedroom. You remembered what he’d said about changing and designing his bedroom himself, so you were very curious as to what it looked like inside. Yet still, the sight of it stunned you to brief silence. 

His was the largest bedroom in the house, the master bedroom if you were being fancy, but in your opinion it was more like a mini home in itself. All it needed was a kitchen and you would be good to go. It smelt just like him – of his cologne and the recognisable vanilla scent his house seemed to waft of every time you visited. The walls were warm grey, décor similar with dashes of cream and gold. The bed matched the whole vibe of the room – insanely large, and you could already tell it was going to be the comfiest thing you’d ever slept on. Directly opposite, but a long way away, were a sofa and love seat sat around a TV hooked to the wall above a stunning fireplace. There were two sets of double windows, from the ceiling to the wooden floor, dark grey drapes open – not that it mattered. Seokjin’s house was out-of-the-way, no chance of being seen. All you were met with as you looked down, was a small patch of garden you hadn’t seen before, plain and simple, but very beautiful. Tranquil. 

To the left of the room a door opened into another, perhaps a quarter of the size – his closet, and you followed him inside, still pretty much lost for words. He said there was no point putting your belongings away tonight, you could do it tomorrow, but he’d saved a drawer for you and there was an empty section of hanging space you could use too. There was also a dressing table you could put to good use, because he sure didn’t, and then he whisked you away into the bathroom, which was probably the most beautiful room in the house. Everything was warm marble in colour. A separate bath and shower (both gigantic) and double sinks. 

“I got you a robe,” Seokjin pointed out, and you followed his gaze to behind the door, two fluffy white robes hooked to the wall. 

Oh, boy. You could get used to this. 

.

.

Seokjin ordered takeout for dinner – from an Indian restaurant Namjoon kept raving about apparently. With the amount he ordered you could have sworn he was feeding a whole party, not just the two of you. You were stuffed in no time, curling up on the sofa with a glass of red wine as Seokjin loaded the dishwasher. He still hadn’t cooked an actual meal for you, and when he joined you, of course you reminded him. This week he was preparing dinner for you one night, and that was final. You needed to see what Chef Kim had in him – even if he insisted his skills were long forgotten.  

You cuddled as you watched a movie, which more often than not meant you’d start to become sleepy – just ask Soojung – but tonight was different. You were wide awake and practically thrumming with excitement. You were begging for the movie credits an hour before they were due, and when they finally popped up your heart started to beat harder in anticipation. It was nearing 11pm. Your lingerie was still burning welts into your skin… 

Seokjin kissed the top of your head, your back pressed into his chest where you’d been snuggled into him, legs across the sofa, for the duration of the night. One of his arms was crossed around your front, the other free to drink his wine as he propped his feet up on the glass topped coffee table. You could really get used to this. 

“What did you think?” He hummed, reaching forward to place his glass on a coaster. You grabbed his hand, not wanting him to leave you and he chuckled, quickly resuming position to now loop both arms around your shoulders, pressing you further into the warmth of his body. 

“I enjoyed,” you replied with a small shrug. In all honesty it would’ve been a great movie if you hadn’t been so distracted. 

You felt him lower his head, breath hot against your ear as he spoke. “I’m glad you didn’t fall asleep on me.” You giggled as he started to kiss the column of your neck, his barely there presses of his lips tickling you. Yet still you pushed into his hold, letting your head fall back. He took the opportunity to suck your earlobe between his lips, eliciting a sweet sigh from you. “I really can’t wait to spend this entire week with you.”  He whispered. 

You tried to keep your voice as uninvolved as possible – which was a lot harder when he now had your earlobe between his teeth. “Eh. I’m so-so over it.” 

“Y/N!” He scolded playfully, groaning a laugh as he lifted his head away. “Stop. Now’s not the time for joking around.” 

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, latching onto his hands. 

“Face me,” he murmured almost suddenly. “Let me kiss you properly.” 

His kisses were gentle and loving, his hands cupping your face as you leaned into him, hands placed across his hard chest. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt tucked into some black pants, he’d looked irresistible all night. He pulled away slowly, lips upturned almost drunkenly. “What’s that grin for?” 

Seokjin’s gaze flicked from your lips to your eyes repeatedly as he replied, thumbs massaging circles into your cheeks. “I’m just very happy. Is that allowed?” 

Giggling, you pressed your mouth to his, wrapping your palms around his neck to pull him in closer. He hummed loudly – indulgently, and let you lick into his mouth, his own hands slipping down to your neck and down your torso, gripping your middle. Your chest was flush to his and you welcomed the heat of his body. You were happy too. It had been a long time since you’d last felt this content, and tonight you’d realised just how lovely it was to be able to lounge with Seokjin and be in his company so casually, so naturally like this. You would become spoiled this week, but you couldn’t feel too worried right now. 

Breaking away again, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but your mouth was a greedy thing, finding its way down his neck and across his throat as he leaned his head against the back of the sofa, his breathing shallow as he let you wonder. His fingers brushed up and down your back distractedly, until he seemed to remember what he wanted to tell you. “Hey,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat when you pinched your teeth into his Adam’s apple softly. “Hey, stop for a moment. There was something I wanted to say before…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the very obvious direction of his sentence, and as much as you wanted to nosedive straight into that pool, you pulled back to look into his eyes, waiting patiently. 

He straightened his back and you eased off him a little, finding his fond smile contagious. “I’ve enjoyed these past few weeks so much.” He began, sincerity in his tone . “I know I’m not old old by any means but dating you has made me feel like I’m young again. I mean, grinding in the middle of a bar is something I didn’t even do back in my college days.” 

“I fail to believe that,” you laughed. 

“Really,” he insisted, looking amused. “I was a nerd. A handsome one, but a nerd nonetheless.” Before you could roll your eyes he was continuing. “What I’m trying to say is that, I really like you, Y/N.” His fingers played with the ends of your hair lovingly.  “You know that already. Shit, I’m crazy about you. Just hearing your voice makes my day better. No matter how short a time we spend together, even if it’s just on the phone to say goodnight, I feel happy – I feel relaxed.” He paused to take a breath before moving to cup your face with one hand. “No matter how stressed I am you make it better by just existing.” 

“…Seokjin,” you murmured, a little lost for words at his declaration. 

He chuckled warmly, tops of his cheeks tinged somewhat rosy. “Too cheesy?”

You shook your head adamantly, reaching for his face as well. “Not at all. I’m crazy about you too.” His face lit up instantly and you couldn’t help but kiss him. “I’m so happy we met,” you confessed against his mouth. “I don’t want this summer to be over.” 

“It’s not over yet,” he laughed. “We still have time to make it even better.” You wanted that more than anything. Finding it difficult to keep away from your lips, he practically had to tear himself away. He was out of breath. “I know saying this out loud is silly given everything, but… Let’s make this official.” 

Your heart started somersaulting. You felt like you were in high school again, over the moon because Kim Rowoon had asked you to prom. Only this was better than that – much, much better. Linking your arms around Seokjin’s neck you tilted your head to the side, a grin unable to keep off your face. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Kim?” 

��What do you say?” He sounded hopeful and soft. 

You hummed out loud, thinking hard. “Can I get back to you? 3 to five business days seems about right.” You immediately squealed as you finished your sentence, Seokjin’s hands finding their way around your butt to tug you forward. You gripped onto his shoulders with the surprise. 

“Too bad because I’ve already been calling you my girlfriend at the office.” 

You didn’t have a chance to reply, the hard press of his lips against yours knocking you senseless. You found yourself in his lap not long after, fingers dragging through his hair as you clung to him, mouths moving in gradual urgency until you began to feel out of breath. Your tongues seemed to grow more daring, intent, as your soft moans mingled with his quiet groans. You hadn’t quite found yourself in this position before, usually moulded to the soft leather but this time you had Seokjin pinned tight, a heat that was quickly becoming unbearable burning between your bodies, and his hands running up and down your back didn’t help. 

Each brush of his fingertips had your skin prickling with warmth, dizzying your mind, and when you felt him brush against the curve of your left breast you leaned forward into his touch, desperate for more. Seokjin grunted, encouraged by your action as he cupped the soft flesh, his thumb grazing your nipple which hardened from the touch. Your kiss turned a lot more frenzied after that, Seokjin roaming your body with confidence, his unoccupied hand cupping your butt to rock you against his crotch. 

He was hard. You’d felt it stiffening ever since you’d climbed into his lap, but now he was solid, flesh pressing (probably painfully) against his pants, and feeling emboldened you lifted your hips, hovering over him for your hand to slot in between your bodies, cupping his erection firmly. He stiffened under your grasp, his breath hitching and you took that moment to drag your tongue along his, teasing him as you slowly started to stroke him above his slacks. He felt thick and rigid between your fingers, pulsing erratically against your hold, and he broke away from your mouth, head falling back as a loud, drawn-out groan slipped from his throat. You gazed at him – eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted as he breathed shallowly – and took a mental picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. He looked gorgeous, basking in pleasure and you wanted to pleasure him more. It was an urge so strong you practically dived on him, mouth slamming into his. He soon gained his bearings, kissing you just as wildly as his hands groped your body. 

“Do you – mm, do you want – mm – to take this upstairs?” He asked against your lips, fingers currently digging into the soft flesh of your ass. The veins in his neck were visible, his desperation for you obvious, and you pulled away from the kiss to nod rapidly. If he didn’t get you upstairs soon you’d surely explode. 

You let out a little squeak as you suddenly found yourself in the air, safely held up by Seokjin. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he began to make the brisk walk to the hallway and towards the staircase. “Oh, my god,” you muttered, laughing as you realised he was about to carry you bridal style all the way up the stairs. 

“What?” He laughed back, his eyes twinkling warmly. Your heart melted at the sight and you leaned in to kiss him, uncaring that you both may fall backwards and break your necks. 

“I may have forgotten about the amount of stairs in this goddamn house,” he panted lightly once you’d made it past the first set. 

“Put me down then,” you giggled. 

“Never,” he sang out, pecking you on the mouth sweetly. 

Once in his bedroom, he placed you down, closing the door behind you before caging you against it, kissing you like he hadn’t seen you for months. You keened into his touch, whole body hot and ready for him, but in the end you couldn’t keep up with his mouth. He’d never kissed you like this, he was a man possessed, you physically felt weak at the knees and you clung to him, moaning softly when his mouth fell to your neck. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he confessed against the wet skin, fresh waves of arousal washing through your body. His voice was an octave lower, gruff and nothing like you’d heard before. “I can’t contain myself knowing we’re going to be alone for a whole week.” 

“What do you plan on doing to me?” You laughed weakly, but to be honest, the time for wisecracks were gone. You were hanging on by a thread, this close to begging him to tear your clothes off. 

Cupping your neck he pulled away to look you in the face. His pupils were blown out, more black than the warm brown you were used to. The tops of his cheeks were tinged red, his own arousal very evident, and when he replied he sounded as sincere as ever. “Anything you want me to.” 

Okay, if he carried on like this, he’d mess up your plan good and proper. He was rude. Very rude. And hot, and sexy, and yours. God, you really wanted him. Your body was screaming for him. You pressed a kiss to his mouth, and then another, and another, determined not to get yourself glued there no matter how much he tried to drag his tongue along the seam of your lips. “L-let me freshen up,” you managed to get out, voice shaky as you (with great difficultly) held him away at arm’s length.  

At your words, he slowly made sense of them, his eyes refocussing before he gave you a short nod and politely stepped back. “Ok.” 

Before you could be tempted by that mouth of his once more, you made a dash for his bathroom, closing the door behind you. Immediately you began to rush out of your clothes, not even bothering to fold them properly because you were in such a hurry. You’d had this planned all night, wanting him to be rendered speechless, and staring at your lingerie cladded self in the giant mirror he had hooked to the wall, you reminded yourself to take a breather. You were going to walk out there calmly, the epitome of composed as you sought out his reaction. With one last look at your reflection, you walked towards the door and opened it. 

Seokjin was sat on the edge of the bed, legs sinfully spread (but oh so casually, which just made it hotter), but he wasn’t looking your way, his eyes darting around the room a little as if he was desperately trying to find some patience. Knowing he was riled and aroused made your head even more dizzy, and stopping by the doorframe, you called out to him. 

He looked your way instantly, eyes bulging even quicker. Actually they practically popped out on storks as he took in the sight of you in the baby blue underwear. He seemed paralysed. 

“Hey,” you smiled, all of a sudden feeling a little shy as you waited for him to say something. 

It took another moment, but then he was swallowing hard, wetting his mouth as his lips parted. “Oh, shit.” 

You smiled victoriously, those simple two words satisfying you fully. 

He outstretched his hand, voice thick and raspy as he beckoned you forward. “Come here.”

You obeyed, closing the distance between you quickly and Seokjin wasted no time clasping his hands around your hips as you stood in front of him, between his legs. If felt so good to finally have his hands on your bare skin. His touch was warm, soothing, but most of all, electrifying. Goosebumps spread as he dragged his fingers up and down your sides, his eyes drowning at the sight of you. 

“Do you like it? It’s not too much?” You asked, looking down at him. You glowed under his gaze. 

He lifted his head up, arching an eyebrow. “Do I like it? Is that supposed to be a genuine question?” He sounded just as baffled as he looked and it made you giggle. His fingers started to play with the thin waistband of your panties before delicately outlining the lace flower petals on your ass. The sensation made you shiver, and a small smile grew on his face as he watched you. “You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, beginning to place small, gentle kisses on your abdomen and your skin rippled, butterflies appearing. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured, hot puffs of air hitting you, heating you up even more. 

You curled your hand in his hair, needing something to latch on to as you watched him mouth even more kisses along your flesh. The point of his tongue dipped into your navel scandalously, and as you gasped he looked up with his eyes and smirked, tongue now swirling invisible patterns along your stomach. The sight sent you a little gooey, legs feeling weak again as your heart thrummed inside your chest. 

“However… I was looking forward to undressing you…” He teased.

You teased right back. “You still have the lingerie.” 

He couldn’t handle that, growling quietly against your stomach, his hands rounding your ass to mould the flesh in his palms firmly. He’d soon tear the panties if he kept that up. Obviously the idea of stripping you naked sent him feral – something you’d remember well for this week. You yelped when you felt him sink his teeth into your hip bone, pulling him closer to your body by his hair, desperate for more. It was when you looked behind him, did you notice the pillar candles aflame on the two nightstands that sat either side of his bed. They weren’t burning before you’d entered the bathroom. You were sure of it. 

“Seokjin, did you light candles?” You asked without realising, changing the atmosphere slightly, but you didn’t mind too much, not when the image of Seokjin rushing to burn candles for the ~ambience~ was too damn adorable. 

He lifted from your skin, looking up at you. “Um, yeah.” He sounded a little awkward before he chuckled softly. “I thought against the slow R&B music.” 

“Good choice,” you laughed, fingers rubbing small circles into the nape of his neck. That would’ve been hilarious. 

“I’m totally out of my depth here…” He admitted, nudging you backwards a little to stand in front of you. He kept his hands on your waist, ducking down to be eye level with you. “I haven’t done this in a while.” 

“Snap,” you grinned, rubbing your nose against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close. You kissed him deeply, feeling happy and relaxed. There wasn’t a nerve in sight and despite his honest words you knew he was at ease too.  

Your hands slipped over his shoulders and down his toned chest, stopping just before the waistband of his pants to tug at his t-shirt, untucking him. “You have to get naked too.” You whined, detaching your mouths. “I’m feeling sorely underdressed.” 

He let out an airy chuckle, immediately reaching for the neck of his shirt to tug it over his head. Your hands greedily started to explore his torso, running your fingers along his faintly lined abs before trailing up his hard chest. He shivered as you brushed against his nipples, a tiny laugh slipping from his throat. 

“What?” You laughed. 

“’Tickles.” He mumbled, leaning in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, loving the feeling of his bare chest against yours, but soon enough you got impatient again, hands reaching for the button of his pants. You popped it open and proceeded to unzip him, at least giving his poor erection some reprieve. It had been pressed up against your lower stomach for quite some time, still rigid but as patient as ever. 

He took over, stepping back to push them past his hips, his lips still attached to yours. “Mm–Bed.” He hummed, taking you by the hips to switch places. You pulled away and sat down, watching him kick his pants off his feet and your eyes zoned in on the curve of his erection, hidden by his Armani underwear – black with a red waistband. His thighs were perfectly toned, his skim glowing in the soft lighting. He looked good enough to eat and your heart skipped a couple of beats as he walked forward. 

You laid back against the mattress, instantly groaning at how soft it was. You practically sunk inside. “Oh, damn this is comfy.” Rolling onto your side as Seokjin climbed on the bed, you hid your smirk. “I could just go to sleep…” 

“I don’t think so,” he told you, hovering over you. His hand smacked you ass causing you to squeal, and you flipped onto your back as he took the moment to cage you under his large body. 

This time his mouth completely bypassed your lips to kiss your chest, pressing into the indents of your collarbones before slipping to the tops of your breasts. He kissed the fabric, wetting it as his tongue traced the delicate flower petals and you gripped onto his shoulders with a moan as he encased one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, soaking the lace a darker shade of blue. “You drive me crazy,” he quietly panted, his hands reaching behind your back, arched into the pleasure he was giving you. “May I?” He asked, fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You nodded hastily, moaning louder when he lifted his head to kiss your lips. His motions were firm, tight pleasure filled grunts leaving him as he freed you of your lingerie. 

Immediately he pulled away, dark eyes soaking in your bare chest like it was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. Your back arched further when his warm palms cupped your breasts, spreading a heat down your spine that settled between your legs. “You’re beautiful,” he awed, looking into your eyes, causing a sweet moan to fall from your lips. 

He moulded the soft flesh gently, before brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. That had you moaning again, pleasure you hadn’t felt in a long time rocketing up your body. It felt amazing to be touched by him, and you were greedy for more. He was on the same page, his lips replacing his thumbs, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud that had you sighing out his name, your fingers threaded in his hair. He hummed against you, squeezing your breasts and pressing his body into yours – once – his erection pressing into your thighs, before he pulled away, kissing down your sternum before licking into your navel, his hands rubbing up and down the outside of your thighs. 

His lips avoided your clothed heat, which was frustrating to say the least. You were so eager by now, unsure if you could take much more kissing before you exploded, but Seokjin was a man determined – determined on kissing every inch of your body it seemed. He made it down one thigh before moving onto the next and as he got towards your knee you couldn’t help but giggle – it was beginning to tickle, but he didn’t stop, lips pressing down your calf.  

“Seokjinn,” you whined. 

He chuckled as he made his way back up the other leg, bending you at the knee before gently getting you to spread out for him. “What?” He murmured. Although you were distracted now, realising how aroused you had become, your underwear clinging to you desperately. He was kissing the inside of your thigh now, fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and he was so close to where you wanted him you were trembling. He nosed his way to the apex of your thigh, groaning as he smelt you and then he was hastily tugging the lace down your legs, the last of your covering. Now you were totally naked in front of him, and he looked like he wanted to eat you up. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, voice gruff. He sounded so sexy. His eyes were glued to your centre yet he didn’t touch. When you didn’t reply, they flickered to your face. “Y/N. Hm?” 

You mind was a blur, you couldn’t think what to say, mainly because you wanted him to do anything and everything to you. You startled when he nosed the inside of your thigh, his hands sliding down your hips to grip the flesh underneath. “Taste you? Is that what you want?” He whispered, sending your insides somersaulting. He looked up as you nodded, and grinned. “You have to say it out loud, honey.” 

The bastard. He was teasing you. Trying to get under your skin. Your forced yourself to speak. “Taste me.” He hummed in response, pressing his mouth to your hip bone. You raised your tone, more determined. “Seokjin. Taste me.” 

He dived in. Placing gentle kisses up your slit, his lips ever so slightly brushing your clitoris. You moaned quietly, letting your eyes close as you laid back against the softest pillows you had ever felt. Your fists clutched the sheets, hips raising up when you felt the first wash of his tongue. Your breath caught, warmth turning you gooey. “Taste so good,” he mumbled into you – so quietly you wondered if you’d imagined it. 

You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, quietly moaning intermittently before you felt the urge to take a peek. Opening your eyes and looking down your body, you saw Seokjin watching you, his eyes hungry. You quickly looked away, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth as a groan left you, your legs falling wider apart. The scene had been erotic but in all honesty you were feeling a little shy. It had been a long time since you’d had sex, so the idea of someone watching you so intimately made you feel funny. 

Seokjin was there to reassure you though. “Don’t look away, Y/N,” he murmured, pulling back to get your attention. “I want to see your face.” You looked again, watching him kneel low as he ran a hand up your thigh. His lips shone with your arousal. He looked beautiful. 

You moaned lowly when you felt him rub a finger at your entrance, and he watched you intently as he pushed inside, feeling you squeeze around the intrusion. He slowly began to curve the digit, pressing against your inner walls. Committed to pleasuring you, he watched your every reaction and this time you didn’t look away. 

“Does it feel good?” He asked, in awe as you writhed around on the bed, chasing the feeling. 

You moaned as you replied yes, only to jerk upwards when his thumb began to rub tiny circles against your clit. “Seokjin!” 

He liked that. Hearing you cry his name. He wanted to hear it more, dropping low to replace his thumb with his lips. He sucked the sensitive bud of nerves between them, flicking the tip of his tongue against it rapidly, earning him another cry, and he moaned gruffly against you, the vibrations shooting up your body. His free hand moved to your lower stomach, palm hot against your skin as he applied gentle pressure, holding you down. 

Oh god, you were a mass of pleasure, mind addled, unable to think straight. Not when he was making you feel so good. He slipped a second finger inside of you, his eyes flicking up to yours and you made it your life’s mission not to look away, chest heaving up and down as you squeezed around his digits. Your orgasm was building, pressure below getting harder to control – harder to ignore. Seokjin guessed it, breaking eye contact to bury his face further into your heat. The image was almost crude, so were the noises, but the most beautiful kind of crude. A crude that had you desperate for more. You jerked into him, rolling into each snap of his wrist, the pads of his fingers grazing your g-spot. 

“Want to make you cum,” he rasped, before sucking your clit back into his mouth and sucking determinedly. You groaned, head flinging back into the pillow, eyes clenched closed, a hand coming out to grip the roots of your hair as you rolled your hips into his face, giving into the pleasure well and truly. This orgasm was going to blow your brains out – and it did. 

In the end you had you to clamp your legs around Seokjin’s head in a bid to get him to stop, pleasure still rolling through your body as you panted like crazy. He eased from your clit, tongue dragging down your folds instead, meeting his fingers that were almost locked inside of your pulsing walls. With a grunt, he removed himself, kissing your mound one last time before he stopped. With his hands on your thighs as he kneeled between them, he watched you adoringly. 

“Oh, my god,” you panted weakly. Unsure what else you could say to describe what you’d just experienced. Why had he not been doing that from the get-go? From as soon as he’d reversed into your car?! 

That was all he needed anyway, your simple vocalisation, because no sooner had the words exited your mouth, he dived on you, kissing your mouth, your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead – whatever he could reach. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness. You could taste yourself on him. It was glorious. His hands roamed your body like it was all new to him. As if he hadn’t been it for the last forty minutes or so. “Fuck. I can’t stop touching you.”

Your stomach flipped around, the sound of him cursing sending you dizzy. You licked into his mouth, kissing him messily, your hands raking up and down his back, before they settled on his ass. You gave the meat a squeeze and he grunted, pushing his crotch into yours. He was painfully hard – and desperate. (You hadn’t missed the way he’d been rutting into the mattress while going down on you…)

“Seokjin,” you breathed, moving your head to the side to get your words out. His tongue carried on going, swirling across your cheek. You liked getting messy with him. You tugged at his underwear. “Get naked. Need you.” 

“You don’t need a minute?” He asked, tongue now in your ear. He gyrated his hips into yours, grunting as he did so. 

You shook your head. “Like hell I do.” 

He laughed at that – breathlessly, but it was something. He moved, rushing out of the last bit of clothing he had on, and your eyes drunk up the sight. The missing piece. His dick was long and thick – smooth and warm once you got your hands on him. Hovering over you, you ran your fist up and down him steadily, just enjoying getting to touch him. He dropped to your side, pecking your lips before he pulled back.  “I need to be inside you.” 

You continued to touch him, running your fingers along the rigid flesh as he stretched behind him to pull a box from the nightstand drawer. 

It caught your attention right away. You raised both eyebrows as you let go of his length. “A hundred condoms?” 

He chuckled, sounding a little sheepish. “Too enthusiastic?”

“Do you want to kill me?” Death by (Dilf) dick wasn’t how you’d expected to go, if you were being honest. 

“Not particularly,” he shrugged, pulling one of the packet. (Discarding the box to the floor.) He turned back to you with an impish grin. “That’s why I bought the bumper pack of condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest, but he grabbed your hand and kissed you, distracting you successfully. “No, if I’m being truthful,” he continued, letting you steal another kiss. “They were better value for money. I’m partial to a bargain.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed. 

“You should’ve seen me purchasing them, I have never been more embarrassed in my life.” 

“Seokjin, you’re a near 40 year old man,” you judged openly, however on second thoughts – “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed buying a 100 condoms too.” 

Seokjin shuddered, looking mortified. “Just the thought of the cashier knowing I was going to get lucky…” 

You arched an eyebrow. “Get lucky?”

He looked comically caught out, eyes wide for a second before he shook his head. “Less talking now…” And then he was kissing you again…

Between rushed mouths and eager hands, he managed to tear the condom packet, pulling out the latex to slip it over his erection. Kneeling over you, you could see perfectly when he attempted to roll it the wrong way up.  “Oh, shit. Ignore that,” he muttered, fixing it immediately. 

You stifled a laugh. “Ignored.” 

He gave himself a tug, making sure everything was secure and your mouth practically watered. “Just warning you now, this may be a three pumps and Bam! kinda thing,” he informed you as he laid over you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I am so turned on.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I don’t mind. Just want you.” 

“I want you more.” He rubbed his nose against yours. 

Hitting his ass, you shot him a look. “It’s not a competition.” 

“Isn’t it?” He asked, pretending to be confused. 

“Quit stalling,” you whined. “Let’s have sex.” 

“Let’s,” he agreed with a warm smile. You turned gooey instantly. 

Pressing his knees to the mattress, he hovered over you, wrapping his hand around his dick to direct it between your legs. He rubbed the length up and down your slit, flesh heavy and hot, coating himself in your arousal. The sensation was good for you, but for him it seemed to blow his mind, eyes practically rolling back into his skull as he grunted. He stopped at your entrance, looking up at you as he slowly pushed the head inside. 

You shifted under him, trying to stay patient. You wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of him, but realistically you needed to take things slow. You held onto his shoulders, silently telling him to continue. He let out a strained groan as he slipped in deeper, your walls snug and hot around him, begging him for more. Inch by glorious inch, you kept on taking him, until you were filled up just right. 

“Shit,” you uttered, looking up at the ceiling as you adjusted to the sensation. 

“Was that a curse?” He asked, voice tight but greatly amused as he nosed your throat. 

“Hardly.” Your voice was barely there, desperate for him to move. 

“I’d still class it as swearing.” He was holding his breath, yet still felt the need to be a smarty-pants. You moved your hips practically a centimetre and he grunted. He didn’t want you to win though. “I want more. Maybe not tonight, but I will turn your mouth filthy by the end of the week…”

A moan tore from your throat uncontrollably, and you couldn’t look at his face because you knew you’d be met with a gloating smirk. You steeled yourself, nose in the air. “Game on.” 

Seokjin laughed obnoxiously, but couldn’t wait any longer, slowly dragging out of you and then pushing back in. His breath hitched – so did yours, and he carried on, propping himself up with one hand as he gained a steady rhythm. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, watching your face. 

“You too.” You clung to him, feeling your face heat up and ended up dropping your gaze. 

“Honey, don’t be shy,” he whined, reaching to cup your face, in the process pressing more of his body weight into you. You clutched him tighter, wanting him as close as ever. “I like watching you. Knowing I’m making you feel good.” His mouth on yours now, you sunk into the kiss, moaning softly as his thrusts got quicker. You met each one, rolling into him. 

It wasn’t long before he was on your throat, kissing and nipping the skin, his hands exploring the rest of your body. Your ran your fingers through his hair, sighing sweety when his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, slipping the hard flesh into his mouth to suck. 

Face pressed against your chest, his movements became a little erratic, breathing heavy until he was panting. You moaned along, loving how he was making you feel. “You are honestly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He awed, voice raspy. 

You let out a weak chuckle, running your fingers through the ends of his hair. “Of course you would say that with a face full of my boobs.” 

He laughed too, kissing his way back up your chest, his hands pressing into the pillow as he leaned in for your mouth. You stared at one another for a little while, your moans mingling together, and it was the most intimate moment you’d ever shared with anyone. 

“Good?” He asked. You were unsure if he was asking how you were or if you were enjoying yourself, but regardless, the answer was the same. 

“Really good,” you smiled, running your hand down his chest. 

His thrust were getting messier, less controlled, less strategic, so it was no surprise when he had a confession to tell you, kissing you once again. “I’m-I’m… close.” 

He’d exceeded the predicted three pumps at least… “Hey, you can go a little harder,” you whispered against his mouth. 

He grunted, slacking at your words but quickly got a hold of himself. Each snap of his hips got firmer and harsher, fucking – because there was no other way to describe it – you into the expensive bed. Your cries of pleasure came out stunted and unsteady, his own grunts louder now, gruffer as he chased his end. 

“Seokjin –!” Your hands fell to his ass, holding him tight as he pounded into you. “Don’t stop,” you encouraged, which seemed to tip him over the edge – quickly. 

“Fuck. Coming…”” His face fell into the crook of your neck, panting as he tried to keep moving, and then he froze, his body hot, partly sweaty, a long drawn-out groan sounding against your ear as he came. 

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him to you because in all honesty, you didn’t want to let him go. You could feel his heart beating against your chest rapidly, even after he’d partially caught his breath, and you knew yours was beating just as fast. You kissed his shoulder when he kissed yours, and slowly he lifted his head, turning to give you a drunken smile. He sighed contently. “That honestly beats any orgasm I’ve ever given myself lately.” 

“I should hope so!” You burst out laughing, not quite expecting those to be his first words and he immediately joined you before hugging you tight. 

.

.

You awoke naturally, light from outside peeking through the loosely closed drapes. Seokjin had his arm around you, his body curved into yours, and you could tell by his breathing he was still very much sound asleep. Proving your point, he grunted softly, rolling onto his back, his grip on you loosening. Carefully, you turned around to face him, taking in the sight of his sleeping form. His lips seemed to be pouted, eyebrows furrowed slightly – of course he had an adorable sleeping face. Of fricking course. 

The bed sheets were pushed down, draped across his pelvis, one hip sticking out, while his broad chest and toned stomach laid bare. You found yourself smiling, insanely happy, wondering if you’d been a saint in a past lifetime – you had to have been. How else had you hit the jackpot? A kind-hearted, beautiful man with a banging body? You’d struck big. 

Wanting to leave him sleep longer, you got up quietly, needing to pee, not worrying that you were butt naked, and as you left the bathroom, you moved to the closet (room) to fish for your phone in your purse. You’d left it there all evening yesterday, not wanting to be interrupted, and low and behold you had a bunch of notifications waiting for you on the screen. You got back into bed, getting comfy before you scrolled through them. Most were unimportant, news updates and social media notifications. You had a text from your mom reminding you to call your grandmother soon, one reminder regarding your phone bill going out tomorrow and then, from half an hour ago, a text message from your best friend. Why the hell was she up so early on a Sunday?! 

Soojung (8:32am) Spill the details girl! How was Mr. Dilf 🥵👨🏻🍆💦 

You snorted, pretty loudly, couldn’t help it, and when you realised you shoved a hand over your mouth, hoping you hadn’t woken your boyfriend (yes, it felt so good to finally use that word) up. You glanced over, but his eyes were still shut, a peaceful look on his face, so with a relieved inner sigh, you went back to your phone, wondering how you should reply. You had quite a lot to say, messaging her “the details” wouldn’t work. Maybe you could give her a summary? Until tomorrow when you could call her while Seokjin was at work. Maybe you could meet her for lunch. And who knew, you’d probably have more to tell her come then –

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

You jumped when you heard Seokjin’s voice, his arm wrapping around you once more as he snuggled closer, encasing you in his body warmth. 

“Seokjin,” you greeted, instantly shoving your phone onto the nightstand, face down. “Good morning.” 

“Mmm.” He rubbed his face into the crook of your neck, burrowing his arm under the covers to touch your skin, hand cupping your waist. He was still sleepy, voice groggy. You settled into his hold, closing your eyes. With a kiss to the top of your shoulder, he spoke again.  “What were you snorting at?”

Your eyes immediately flew open. He’d heard that? “Nothing,” you tried to reply casually. 

He laughed, the throaty sound shooting up your body, leaving warmth in its wake. “Come on, something made you laugh.” He lifted his head, looking at you pointedly, plump lips pressed together, mouth curving up slightly. “You have to share, it’ll be rude not to.” 

It took you a second to give in. “Fine.” It was probably time to let him know anyway. Soojung might try to kill you, but she couldn’t get you if you were gated in at Seokjin’s home…  You reached for your phone and flashed the screen on, holding it out to him. “Soojung’s an idiot,” you sighed. 

He delicately held the back of your hand, steadying the device so he could read the messages. A second later he was deeply amused, lips quirking before he let out a little laugh. “Has that been my nickname the entire time?” 

“Maybe…” Amongst other things… They could wait till later though. 

He hummed, trying to keep his expression casual, but you could tell by his eyes how amused (and smug) he was. “The emojis add a nice touch.” 

You rolled your eyes, about to tell him to shut up, but immediately his lips were pressed against yours. He kissed you sweetly – which was all just an act. When he pulled away, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, tone arrogant. “So… how was Mr. Dilf?”

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed. This couldn’t be happening. He was just as bad as Soo and Taehyung. 

Laughing loudly, he kissed you again, caging you under him smoothly. Your hands reached for his biceps, feeling them flex underneath you. “Was it good enough for a round two? Don’t expect me to keep my hands off you,” he told you, his fingers tickling your stomach as his face fell to your neck, kissing and biting the skin. 

You began to laugh, squirming under him, but no matter how much you tried to free yourself it was impossible. “Stop,” you whined. “Seokjin, you’re tickling me!” He eased off with the tickling but his mouth only seemed to ramp up, his tongue licking up your throat. “You’re so sexy,” he groaned, meeting your gaze, and instantly laughed. “I love embarrassing you.” 

You grumbled, realising you’d started to blush. “I’m not embarrassed,” you insisted. “I’m turned on.” Two could play at that game. Seokjin’s eyes widened comically, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

“Yeah?” He murmured, getting a hold of himself, mouth ghosting over yours. You nodded, dragging your hands down his back to settle on his ass. You could feel his dick rousing between your thighs. It was so easy to get him. He was like putty in your hands. 

“You’re okay though, mm?” He asked, tone softening as he stared into your eyes. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you informed him, but his tenderness didn’t go ignored. God, you were really lucky. “I feel so happy,” you grinned, moving to clasp your arms around his neck. He grinned too, teeth on show, and then you couldn’t hold off any longer, kissing him eagerly.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, after you’d just licked a strip up his jaw line. His hands clung to hips. “I want you in so many ways.” 

You gave him a dangerous smirk. “We have all week, I’m sure you’ll be successful.” 

Groaning, he seemed beside himself, skin hot and sweaty, his hair dishevelled, falling into his eyes, cheeks patched red. Finally, he settled on a decision. “Would you like to shower with me?”

“Okay,” you replied instantly, your excitement already tenfold, and suddenly you were in his arms, rising off the bed to be carried (naked) bridle style to the bathroom. “Seokjin!” You squealed, clinging onto him tightly, but all he did was laugh. You could get used to this. 

His walk-in shower was grand, practically a separate wet room – two glass doors leading inside and a marbled tiled bench to the left with two panelled windows behind it. There were two showerheads – one large one attached to the ceiling and the other jutting out from the wall. Seokjin chose the centre one, knocking it on and enclosing you both in hot water. Warmth radiated from beneath your feet too – heated flooring, of course. 

You spent the next ten minutes wrapped together kissing, hands exploring one another’s soapy bodies. It wasn’t long before there was a very obvious erection bobbing against your stomach. “Someone says hello again,” Seokjin hummed against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before he broke away and chuckled. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been the cause of many an awkward boner.” 

You laughed, hooking one arm around his neck. “I noticed.” Your other hand wrapped around his dick, the wetness of his skin making it easy to glide your fist along the veiny shaft. You gazed up at him, admiring the way he’d pushed his wet hair above his forehead. He looked incredibly handsome – so handsome, you were finding it hard to control yourself. “Was this one of your ways?” You murmured. 

“Maybe,” he said with a smile, huffing out a little when your thumb grazed the sensitive slit across the head of his member. 

“I have a better idea…” You whispered, pushing a little at his chest. “Sit.” 

He obeyed, sitting on the bench while watching you wordlessly (but curiously), his eyes flashing when you moved to kneel in front of him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dick twitching in anticipation. You took him in your fist again, feeling oddly confident as you flicked out your tongue. It had been a long time since you’d sucked dick but you were more than ready. 

You washed your tongue across the head, hearing him grunt above you, and encouraged, you took him in your mouth, sucking firmly around the tip. His hands instantly reached for your head, fingers carding through your hair. He groaned lowly, thighs tense, but when you started to jerk your fist along his shaft, he relaxed into the pleasure, murmuring your name. 

“Okay, this idea seems better than mine,” he admitted, voice tight. 

You hummed in agreement, vibrations travelling up his length which made him groan, fingers in your hair tightening. Taking him deeper, you washed and swirled your tongue as best you could around the thick flesh. Seokjin’s length was impressive, but you had all week to grow accustomed to it, for now, you had your hand, continuing to stimulate him with both that and your mouth. The water from the shower hit your back and calves, the heat beneath you making sure you didn’t grow cold. 

“Should we go back to the bedroom?” Seokjin asked, sounding concerned, despite how good you were making him feel. A hand ran down your back soothingly. “Your knees will start aching.” 

Pulling off him, a string of saliva that attached you breaking apart, you shook your head and ran your palm all the way up his length, twisting against the tip. He bucked into your hold. “It’ll be worth it.” 

Seokjin let out a low growl, eyes dark. “Don’t say things like that.” 

You smirked, spreading your saliva up and down him slowly before speeding up, concentrating on the head. Seokjin’s mouth was open, his breathing shallow, chest littered with red blotches, making it painfully obvious how aroused he was. You wanted to run your hands all over the muscular torso, mouth too – but that could wait. First of all, you wanted to make him cum. 

“You have a pretty big dick. Has anyone ever told you that?” You purred, eyes flicking down to his crotch. 

Seokjin grinned confidently, the hand in his hair reaching to cup your cheek. “You seemed to handle it very well last night.” 

Oh. Heat exploded through your body, settling between your legs, and you took him back in your mouth, a hiss leaving his throat. He tapped your chin, gaining your attention. “Y/N, look at me,” he commanded softly. 

And you did. You watched every bit of pleasure that flitted across his face as you continued to suck his dick, never breaking eye contact, even when he did; eyelids closed, face scrunched up as he came down your throat a few minutes later…

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

[lune-hime]

Hi! Are you still writing? If not then disregard this, but I was wondering if you could write the first meeting between Logan and reader that was mentioned in Blast from the Past? I think there was something about a skateboard and a torrential downpour if I’m not mistaken haha. Thanks so much! And I love your fics btw :)

Hi! I am also a big fan of your writing too! :) Thank you so much for being incredibly patient with me on this request. I apologize for how long this has taken me to get out, preparing for graduate school has left me with much less time to write than I anticipated. I’m sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy the first meeting of dear reader and Mr. Kitty Claws <3 

↞↠↞↠↞↠

Zzzt.

Do tell me, please, why you presently found yourself alone at sunset (which-by the way-you couldn’t even see through the thick, gravely, storm clouds) on a remote hiking trail, optimistically ignoring the forecast for torrential rain, with only a windbreaker, backpack, and your longboard tucked under your arm?

Zzzt.  

I mean, really, this is how young women like you got chloroformed, dragged through the bramble, and stabbed on the stale and musty floorboards of a serial killer’s cabin.

Zzzt.  

And you can’t even fucking skate on a mountain trail.

Zzzt Zzzt.

Did I mention no cell service either? Oh, and how about that creepy dead, freshly killed deer a few minutes back on the side of the trail?

Zzzzzt-zap.

This time your sharp reflexes and highly precisioned energy electrocuted two mosquitos out of this dimension before they could land on your collarbone.

I get it though, mosquitoes and the sky teetering on the edge of cracking open aside, this was what you needed right now. This is where you needed to be right now, even if this was the world’s most questionable hiking trip.

Canada was indeed everything you needed and more. Sure, you had to constantly use dingy porta-potties and lactic acid inducing manual labor while you were working in the field. But it was rewarding and interesting and most of all it gave you a break from..well...you.

It seemed a bizarre decision by your family to pack up and leave for another country, even if it was only one border away. From their perspective it was hard to comprehend why a woman in her mid twenties in the summer of her first year of graduate school at NYU would want to galivant around in the remote corners of British Columbia. She should be networking with scientists and politicians she’s met during her internships, attending lavish banquets for anthropological research, and of course extending her plus-one invites to her loving, supporting, family.

You audibly scoffed at their idealistic fantasy.

Charles and your friends at the mansion couldn’t have been more encouraging. When the professor had told you about the opportunity to work at archeological dig sites of ancient excavated First Nations villages in the farthest Canadian wilderness from New England yachts and neon kissed skyscrapers, you couldn’t say yes fast enough.

You mentally chanted to yourself that this was a much needed reset as the clouds hungrily followed the crunching of your boots against deceased maple leaves. The looming canopy of conifers seemed to gain density as your steps dodged the slugs that emerged from the dirt to worship the incoming blessings of rain. You let the creaking of the wind against the broad trunks of the pines and the grayed blanket of air wash the stress from the work week away and lull you into a false sense of calm.

The first droplets of rain tapped against the ferns in a gentle percussion as you weaved over precariously growing roots. You used your free hand to fling your hood up and zipped your jacked as far up as it could go in preparation for more precipitation. Through the thin fabric your ears picked up a rustling in the brush that was definitely too grounded to be the wind.

Playful, hoarse grunts erupted from the ferns as two grizzly cubs rolled out of the bushes and onto the path in front of you. Your eyes threatened to pop out of your head as you watched them tumble through the pine needles and bite at each other’s ears.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Curses looped across your mind as your breath began to quicken in the eerie silence that now overtook the forest. Azure energy crackled along the spaces between your fingers as they twitched in fear.

Shit , you were a city girl. And they never offered classes on how to defend yourself from threatening wildlife at university or the mansion. Are grizzlies the kind you need to play dead with? Or climb a tree? Fuck you couldn’t even climb the stairs half the time without getting winded. One thing you did know, however, was if the babies were here than their mother-

It happened so quickly that your mind struggled to keep pace with your fingers. An unmistakable breathy growl manifested to your right as the mother in question charged you. Your flight instinct was first to kick in as you scrambled backwards down the trail. You only got a few feet until the slick bark of the tree roots caused you to slip and tumble to the ground. Your board flew out of your grip as your butt hit a particularly plump root. You winced at the pain but didn’t have much time to nurse your fall when the lumbering beast was almost on top of you.

You choked out a cry as you sloppily turned over and began struggling to get to your knees. You felt yourself being lifted by your backpack as the bear’s teeth ripped through the canvas of your bag and threw you off the path. You flailed on your descent, landing on your stomach as hot tears began streaking down your terrified face. You felt yourself being shaken by the straps as she roughly tugged you from side to side. With a vigorous scream you flipped to your side, adrenaline contorting your fingers to expel electric energy. A boisterous crack sent shockwaves through the canopy. Angrily your assailant bellowed at the discomfort of your energy webbing itself through her face. She snorted but lurched forward once more, her jaws a ghost on your neck. Her hot breath barely dusted your cheeks before energy shot outwards from your hands that shielded your face from becoming dinner. A pained yelp followed by another crack met your ears as you placed your buzzing palms down. The bear and her babies were hightailing it off in your opposite direction. Instant guilt washed over you as you noticed the bald spots woven through her copper fur where your energy had badly burned her.

As you began trying to calm your spinning mind you glanced up, squinting through the droplets, to see that the crack you had heard was your energy raking through the treetops and searing them straight off. The gateway you had made for the rain now left you damp and wallowing in your painfully heaving chest, sore ass, and shame for hurting another creature.

Logan let out a sigh as the muscles of his shoulder blades stretched with the roll of his arms. His axe was weighty in his hand as he leaned down to pick up another piece of birch trunk and placed it on his chopping block. Arms up and axe over his head, he prepped himself for his swing and brought the axe down with a thunderous clap.

His brows furrowed at the commotion. Indeed, the wood was now evenly split, but the chopping block was still in one piece. He momentarily contemplated the limits of his strength when crows flew from their pined perches.

“That’s definitely not normal.” He muttered to himself. He focused all of his senses in the direction of the commotion when his ears picked up a scream. Instantly he ran to his pick up truck, forgetting he still clutched the axe in his hand. Once he was in the driver’s seat he chucked it into the back as he slammed his foot on the gas, wheels kicking up dust as he sped down the dirt road.

Logan drove until the first trailhead emerged from the thicket. He felt his claws nipping at the skin of his knuckles as he slammed the door and jogged across the soggy dirt. The screaming had ceased, but Logan could smell the musky stench of a bear nearby. Sure enough as he went deeper and deeper into the forest he saw sets of fresh tracks squelched into the mud. Retracing the animals’ steps he let out a breath of relief at the woman who was beginning to sit upright.

Halfway through dragging yourself upward you heard heavy footfalls on the path. Your head whipped towards the sound in dread, not mentally prepared for another attack. Your wide eyes met with those of a man; his sorrel tresses were dislodged from flying through the crisp breeze, his flannel was casually only buttoned mid chest, and lord his hands.

Your mouth fell agape at the metal daggers that resided between his knuckles. Their metallic sheen was amplified by the raindrops that cascaded down them. At first, you felt tinges of fear that he was the axe murderer that you had always been warned about. But in those eyes you could only read concern.

Logan picked up on your uneasiness and put his hands out in front of him in a non threatening gesture. The energy that still flickered about your body did not go unnoticed by him as he put the pieces of what must have happened together. The stench of bear, the booming, a hole in the trees, a young mutant lying on the ground in the aftermath of defending herself. He willed his claws ever so slowly back into his hands as he watched you become entrapped by his anomaly.

He was like you and you were like him.

“You’re-” You began, still gawking at his mutation. Logan was used to people ogling at him in fear, disdain, and abhorrence and even with you being a mutant he wouldn’t have put it past you to react the same. But your initial alarm had washed off with the steady stream of rain and what was revealed was a mixture of relief, apprehension, and curiosity.

“Mhm.” He simply answered with mutual acknowledgement. He battled with taking a few paces forward to help you up but he didn't want to stress you out any more than needed.  

“What are you doing in my forest?” He asked as he watched you groan and finally sit up.

“What are you, the fairy guardian of this place?” You mumbled, riding out the final waves of your panic. Logan cocked an eyebrow in mild amusement. He waited while you rolled your wrists and checked yourself for any bleeding or sprains. You were satisfied with suffering only a few cuts to your cheek and arms where sticks had kissed just beneath your skin. The dull ache of where your tailbone struck the root took the place of your endorphins.

“Can I help you up?” Logan asked softly as he kept his hands visible and empty. You answered him with an apprehensive stare as you contemplated. You figured if he really wanted to hurt you, especially after realizing your powers, he would have already. When you nodded Logan walked towards you and offered you his hand.

“Are you gonna zap me?” He lightly chuckled before you could connect your palm with his. His comment offered a small smile from you.

“No, unless you try something.” Your quip faded into a grunt of discomfort as his strong arm pulled you to your feet.

“You alright? You don’t look like that bear took any chunks out of you.” He inquired as the warmth of his hand left your grasp.

“How did you know it was a bear?” You asked with a knitted brow.

“I heard you scream and saw bear tracks on my way here.” He responded simply. You hummed and let out a shaky exhale when the coil in your lower back tightened as you attempted to stretch it.

“I’m fine, just shaken up. I’m more worried for the bear…” You trailed off as your guilty conscience overcame your thoughts. Even when you could have become their next family meal, you had reservations about using your mutation to hurt others. Logan huffed in disbelief at your selflessness.

“Seems like you didn’t really have much of a choice. What else could you do; its not like PETA will ever find out.” He shrugged. You kept your guard tilted high but even gilded iron defenses couldn’t keep you from observing his handsomeness. In the newfound proximity you wandered the hazel pathways of his irises in the company of the distinct smell of cigar and pine. He wore the rugged boyishness of a young man in his smooth skin and wolfish smile. It clashed ever so lovely with the maturity that embodied his stance and sturdy build.

To any dismay you could have had, the roses that bloomed on your cheeks did not go unnoticed by him. Alluring curiosity spread across his face. He wouldn’t deny that-despite your disheveled hair, the dirt that coated your jaw, and the aura of a wet puppy-he found you beautiful. Any seductions that ran through his mind aside, he liked to think he was chivalrous enough to push the brakes on a girl who just got mauled by a bear.

“So, wanna explain why you were electrocuting a bear on a remote hiking trail?” He pressed as he shifted his weight to one side, bringing his boot to prop up and rest on a protruding root. You gulped, your pride about getting lost still dangling from a few frayed threads.

“Do you wanna explain why-uh-you’re also here on this remote hiking trail?” You countered and crossed your arms. Your voice quaked with residual nerves that were the opposite of threatening.

Logan stared at you through the rain. The clouds were weeping more intensely now and their tears kissed his dark lashes.

“I have a summer cabin. Gonna answer my question before we both end up taking showers out here?” He replied with a tinge of annoyance as his hair grew slick with the incoming rain.

In the space that filled your gap in speech, a vivacious thunderclap steam rolled through the sky. As if on cue, the rain absolutely poured through the leafy umbrella above you and instantly began soaking the two of you.

“Shit!” Logan exclaimed at the now sticky feeling of his flannel to his chest. You flipped the hood of your raincoat up as quickly as you could, but not before your head was thoroughly waterboarded.

“WHAT NOW?” You shouted over the roaring water. Logan’s brow furrowed under the assault of droplets.

“My car is parked not that far from here.” He yelled with a nod in the direction he came from. You bit your lip nervously at the thought of following a strange man to his vehicle.

“How do I know you’re not some weirdo?” You contended.

“We’re both weirdos, sweetheart.” The term of endearment slid so effortlessly on the remark about your mutations and left your cheeks hot against the cold rain. “You can trust me, or you can get soaked out here. Your choice.”

What other option did you really have? Your mutation couldn’t protect you from freezing nor could you send sparks into a wet log to create a fire. He obviously knew this area well, he made sure you were unhurt, and he was like you. You took solace in all of these notions and reminded yourself that you could use your abilities as a last resort.

“Fine. But metal is a great conductor for electricity just so you know.” You warned and Logan cracked a half smile. He then began jogging up the trail.

“WAIT.” You called and he halted in his tracks. You ran over to the brush and sifted through the ferns to tuck your longboard under your arm. Logan did not have the time to question the absurdity of you bringing that with you on a hike but a look of perplexity was evident on his glistening features. He ran at a much slower pace than he would have had he been alone. He made sure he could hear the squelching of your footfalls as you pushed through the stinging at your tailbone and followed him back to his truck.

He unlocked the rusty vessel swiftly and the two of you plopped onto the pleasantly dry seats. You threw your longboard on the floor of the passenger’s seat and heaved a sigh of relief to be out of those woods. You immediately slipped your soggy shoes and socks off. While you peeled your drenched raincoat from your form, you glanced around the interior of the car.

Not trashy-save an empty beer bottle and an orange Reese's wrapper.

No guns. You figured he didn’t need a gun with claws like those.

A worn, auburn leather jacket hanging off of one of the back seats.

“At least you don’t have an axe.” You chuckled more to yourself than him. Logan comically averted his eyes ever so slowly to the back seat. He sighed when he didn’t see the weapon in question for it must have fallen under the seat.

Logan's car was getting an all natural, no expenses paid power wash as the two of you stared in awe as the rain slid down the windshield in swift rivers. It left zero visibility outwards aside from the running water.

“I...don’t think you can drive through this.” You stated the obvious.

“No shit.” He replied, his voice laced with a velvet rumble off of the metal frames of the vehicle. “We’ll have to wait it out.”

You nodded and couldn’t fight the large shiver that sprung from your lower back all the way up to your ears. Your torso may have been kept dry but your head was soaked and so were your legs. Logan arched his back to reach behind the driver’s seat to grab his jacket from the back.

“Here.” He offered gently, straightening it out and laying it on your lap.

You blinked at his simple act of kindness. Grabbing the smooth leather, you brought your knees to your chest and layered the jacket over your body from your legs to your shoulders. Heat rose to your cheeks as it did the rest of your body as you curled into his jacket.

“Thanks.” You said and gave him a grateful smile. “Aren’t you cold too though? You didn’t have a raincoat on.”

“I’m fine. One of the...perks of my genetics.” He replied in dismissal of your concern.

“Damn, kitty claws and not being able to feel the cold? You lucked out, dude.” You commented with a light hearted tease. Joking made you feel less vulnerable, less stupid for putting yourself in this situation. Logan rolled his eyes at the frilly name for his adamantium blades.

“I know your mutation before I even know your name.” You commented with a small chuckle.

“Logan.” He answered, the velvety gravel of his voice rippling through the rain at the windshield.

“Nice to meet you, Logan. I’m Y/N.” You said and held your hand out expectantly. When you locked gazes, both of you were temporarily enamored in the chromatics of your eyes. He seemed to realize this before you and smoothly took your hand in his without ever wavering his eye contact. He gave your hand a quick shake and withdrew it back into his lap. His palm was so warm against your clammy skin. It made you wonder how the rest of him felt.

“I honestly didn’t expect to meet anyone out here, let alone another mutant.” You exhaled at the lingering impossibility of the situation.

“That's why I’m here, usually it's pretty barren people wise. That brings me back to my question; what are you doing out here?” He pressed. As he waited for an answer, he shifted to relax into the corner between the seat and the window, amber eyes alight in the dimmed shadow of the rain. You fiddled with the worn hem of your makeshift blanket for a few moments, letting the waterfall outside fill the silence.

“Today was supposed to be a relaxing break from work. Evidently it didn’t turn out that way.” You exhaled and leaned your head back on the seat’s headrest. “I saw this park along the way to one of my work sites and thought it looked like a good place to be alone. Now I know to research bear population concentrations before going anywhere.”

Logan understood. That’s the whole reason he lived half of his life as what some would proclaim as a hermit. Partially to save others from getting hurt by him and partially to keep himself from getting burned by the unknown mistakes of his past and the anonymity of his stolen memories. He wasn’t your dad so he wasn’t going to hound you too much about it. But, even if you held the power to break the trees with a thunderclap, he couldn’t help the protective feeling that bubbled up his throat for the sweet woman next to him.

“Do you always charge head on into places you know nothing about? And with a skateboard?” His words betrayed his increasing fondness for your adventurous spirit.

You didn’t come all the way to Canada to be lectured. (Well, besides in your internship.) The question could have been taken as aggressive, judgmental, or prying even. But in his tone was genuine curiosity framed underneath the light scolding.

“I thought it would be fun to learn how to longboard while I’m out here for the summer.” You confessed and sent a testing look this way. He let out a rich chuckle.

“And a hiking trail is the ideal place for that.”

“I thought maybe there would be a bridge or paved path…” You scowled at his sarcasm.

“I get it though, we all need alone time. And there’s not a better place than the forest to do that.” A sigh tailed his sweet comment. You were grateful for it, for despite his banter, he didn’t make you feel like a stupid kid. Not entirely, at least.

“You’re not from around here then?” He continued.

“No, I’m from New York actually. I’m here on a grad school internship.”

“Ah, a city girl. That explains the blind enthusiasm.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a cocky half smile. Your glare only grew in intensity at his teasing.

“Long way from home.” He noted and you hummed in agreement.

“Is your degree in wildlife conservation?” He threw you one final lithe jab.

“Haha.” You said pointedly, but you couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your lips at his handsome amusement. “No, cultural anthropology, actually.” Logan let out an impressed whistle.

“What about you? Are you one of those people who abandoned their life to live off the grid?” You asked tentatively, realizing the conversation had been solely focused on you.

“Not exactly. I’ve got a couple cabins across the country-like summer and winter homes. When I’m out here, I work at the lumber yard. When I’m in Alberta, I work at a bar.” He responded as he wiped the condensation from his side of the window, a hopeless attempt at checking through the wall of rain.

“So you’re both a lumberjack and a bartender? Wow, eclectic.” You praised his line of work.

“More or less.” He left out that the only things he tended to at the bar were bloodied knuckles after embedding them into his opponent's gut during each cage match.

You chatted idly as the rain continued to wash away the hectic afternoon. You talked about your work, about your home. He talked about his cabin, about his travels through BC and Alberta. Between your lips the two of you wove personal stories but excluded intimate details. He was still a stranger, after all. Even if the complexity of his humble nature and mysterious lifestyle made him one of the most compelling strangers you had ever met.

As the storm raged on and time flowed in waves at your windows, you began to doze off. Logan resigned to resting his eyes himself while keeping his ears peeled for a let up in the rain or any disturbances.

Until he heard your little grunt of discomfort.

In your sleep your head had grown heavy and lolled to the side at such an angle that Logan was sure you would wake up with an insane neck cramp. As gingerly as he could, he rolled up your now dry raincoat, gently placed his hand on your cheek, and propped your head onto the makeshift pillow. His eyes softened at the utter peacefulness of your relaxed form; the way your eyelashes embraced your plump cheeks, and in your tranquility the erasure of any semblance of the past few hours.

“What?” You whispered, pretty eyes now meeting his in groggy sweetness. Logan blinked in surprise but didn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt delicate wings against the chambers of his heart.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He warned lightly. Under your honeyed look his nerves felt like they were being bathed in a pleasant hum. He wondered if your energy could feel like this.

“You’re a secret softie.” You declared with a sleepy giggle. Logan pursed his lips at the cute accusation, but didn’t deny it.

“Go back to sleep, bub.” He said lowly. You let the warm tambour of his voice mixed with the crisp pitter patter of the rain send you back to sleep.

When the storm would finally pass, Logan would drive you back into town. You would part ways, then, not knowing the impact you would have on each other’s lives mere months later after the summer rain bled into the crimson fall and arrived on Xavier’s School’s winter doorstep.

#fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #xmen #x men fanfiction #logan #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #reader insert #marvel x reader #Marvel x Y/N

[woniepop]

feel special ༉‧₊˚✧

➜ the three times you didn’t want to be Karl’s best friend any more and the one time you weren’t

Pairing: Karl Jacob’s x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, cursing

Word Count: 2.0k words

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for a mcyt streamer, but unfortunately I will not be writing works for more streamers anytime soon. This is for my lovely friend basil Ly and losingvienna’s follower event, which you should definitely check out of you are in to mcyt streamers!!

I highly recommend checking @basilly and @losingvienna out if you haven’t already!!

Ever since you met Karl, you’ve hated everything about him. He was sweet, he was caring, he was everything you’ve ever wanted in anyone. From the moment he stepped foot in your kindergarten your life had become a living hell. He was great! You on the other hand, had never felt more miserable in your life. It had never occurred to you that being different was a bad thing, but apparently, to your whole kindergarten class of 26 kids, it was terrible. But, somehow, amidst the screaming kids and the poorly colored art projects, Karl only saw you.

Your fellow kindergarten classmates stared at you, perhaps a bit too judgingly, as you sat down in your seat. Feeling super excited to come to school today, your grandma has recently gotten you your very own pink sundress, equipped with a pink satin ribbon to tie a cute little bow in the back. You wanted your classmates to like you, so you had to be the prettiest you could ever be. 

“Why are you wearing a dress to school? Do you think you’re a princess?” one of the children say, rather, shout across the room. And with that, the whole class starts laughing, except you. 

“What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“OOO Y/N HAS A CRUSH!”

“I bet it’s Karl”

“Of course it is. She just wants to daaaaaaate him, doesn’t she?”

With tears welling up in your eyes and boogers dripping down your nose, you quickly stand up just to take the hall pass and run to the nearest bathroom. It was humiliating, feeling like you had tried so hard to make friends just to get laughed at. It felt terrible. 

You were NOT excited for your first day of high school. Why would you be? It was just another year of “light hearted” jokes about you and how you were “so different.” Settling with a seat in the back, you tilt your head down only for the teacher to walk in right after. 

“Good morning, students! Welcome to your first day of Freshman Year! I’m sure you’re all very excited for these next four years, but before that why don’t we all introduce ourselves to each other!” The teacher says, in a high pitch, peppy voice. You had stopped listening to her after that. You already knew what was going to happen, you were going to be paired up with some immature male football player looking for a tall, hot, and blonde cheerleader girlfriend, then he was going to say something stupid like, “Girls like you aren’t really my type.” No shit you weren’t his type. It happened every year. Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you force your head up, preparing yourself for the dreadful introduction. 

“Hi! I believe we’re partners for the All About Me project. May I sit here?” he says, pointing to the chair beside you. He, as in Karl Jacobs. The Karl Jacobs. The man, the myth, the legend, the boy that filled your entire life with “She just wants to date Karl. She’s such an attention whore.” With that, your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you ever this mad about anything in your life. You didn’t want to know anything about him, let alone do a whole project learning about him. 

“Yeah, you can sit there.” You answer through clenched teeth. 

“Thanks! I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to finish this within the period considering there are like 30 questions, so did you want to work on this in the library after school?” he asks.

“Sure.” You say promptly, not even bothering to make eye contact with him. 

“I believe we went to the same elementary school, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you, so I’m glad we got to be partners for this project. I’m excited to get to know you.” He says, a glint of hope in his eyes. You hated it. Was he actually being nice? To you? 

The rest of the period would have been answering all the questions on the list, but instead you guys had been side tracked, going off topic and talking about anything and everything. Putting aside your hatred for the boy, Karl seemed like a genuinely nice person. You had learned he loved gaming, which he was surprised you had a knack for as well. 

“Well, Y/n, I’m sorry we couldn’t get a lot done this period. But, I’ll see you at the library later, and maybe we can even try out that new game you talked about tonight.” He says, standing up out of his chair and leaving the classroom. Maybe today wouldn’t be too bad after all.

ONE “Move!” you say, playfully shoving Karl off of you. It was the summer before your senior year, and you would have never guessed that you, Y/n L/n, would be spending your whole high school career with the boy you loathed most, Karl Jacobs. If there was ever anything you'd ever looked forward to, it was spending every Friday night with Karl Jacobs. That fateful day at the library was the start of the best tradition ever known to man. 

“But we’re watching a movie!” Karl exclaims. 

“So? You don’t need to watch it while squishing me half to death.”

“What do you mean? Have you ever heard of CUDDLING?” 

“Cuddling has never consisted of MURDER.” 

It was always like this. Every Friday night Karl would come to your house, your mom would gush at how handsome he was while she set a plate down of whatever food he wanted, and him telling her that she was the best cook ever. This is what you’ve always wanted, right? You had a best friend, who accepted you as you were, and you him. Despite always having heartwarming and laughter filled moments with your best friend, your heart hurt. A lot. Maybe the moment was just too heartwarming, or maybe this was the universe telling you that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. 

TWO “Hey, Karl!” she says. Ah, yes. Her. Karl’s childhood crush since what? Fourth grade? 

“Oh, um, Hi!” He replies. There it was. That dreadful pain in your chest that only grew bigger as she sat down right next to him, disregarding the fact that you were sitting right there. The way she twirled her long blonde hair, the way she leaned over to show all of her cleavage, the way she wore skirts so short you could almost see her underwear, and the way it made your blood boil and your heart hurt until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wanted to walk away so bad, but as Karl’s best friend you should support him in his romantic interests, even if you didn’t like them. 

“So… I’m sure you’ve heard already. I broke up with my boyfriend.” she says, tracing her finger up and down his arm, making him noticeably very nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” You hear him say. Of course he was always here. He was there for everyone, and he would never try to exclude anyone from his kindness. 

“I broke up with him because of you!”

“W-what”

“I want to be with you, silly!” she says. And with that, you felt your whole world go black and white. Did you hear her correctly? She wanted to be with him?

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t be with you.” 

“WHAT?!? BUT I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND JUST TO BE WITH YOU!”

“Well I’m sorry, but I love someone else. You should’ve consulted me before you threw away your relationship.”

Did you hear HIM correctly? He loves someone? You couldn’t take it anymore and excused yourself. Yet again, you ran to the bathroom feeling the same pain in your chest only 10 times worse. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore. Not like this.

THREE “I can’t believe you’re moving to California, Y/n” Karl says as he pushes his hair back, sighing in disbelief. “You’re really going to leave me?” He continues, tears welling up in his eyes as he turns to look at you with his signature puppy eyes. 

“I have to! It’s always been my dream to go to college there!��� You reply, feeling guilty for leaving behind everything for your dream. 

“But I’ll miss you!” he says, fully knowing facetime exists, and you would always visit him during breaks. 

“I’ll miss you too! But, I need to do this. Can you stay strong? For me?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. You had gone on one of your late night drives again, parking in an empty parking lot as you have deep late night conversations. Today’s topic happened to be college, and while it had been always known you were moving across the country after high school, the day was coming closer and it all felt too real.

 As Karl leans his face into your hand, he lets out a yawn. “I guess it’s time to go back then.” you say.

“No, I don’t want to. I have to spend every second with you until you leave.” he whines. You wanted to as well, but then, there it was. The stinging in the back of your heart. You were tired of it. You hated feeling this way. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore.

THE END The warm summer air blew past you as you and Karl sit atop your roof, staring into the distance in the comfortable silence that was there from the moment Karl got to your house. Neither of you had spoken a word but neither of you cared. You just wanted to be with him. What would’ve made the night perfect was if you weren’t getting on the plane the very next morning, moving across the country. 

Building up as much courage as you could, you said the three words you’ve been wanting to say ever since you had become friends. You were leaving, but before that you wanted more than anything else to let him know this. “I love you.” You say, causing his eyes to go wide. You… loved him? That was impossible. 

“Yeah, I love you too.” He says casually. 

“No. I love you more than in a friendly way.” You reply.

“Really? Why?” He asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because you were my first friend, but it’s definitely because you’re you. I’ve been bullied almost my whole life, and you know that. But, no matter how the world brings me down, and even when hurtful words stab me, I can smile again. Because you’re there.” You say, tears rolling down your face. You pause, before continuing on about how much he means to you. “I mean, my whole life, one moment I feel like I’m nothing at all. Like no one would notice if I were gone. But then you came! And I was so happy. Or maybe it’s cause you make me feel loved. But when I’m with you, I feel so special.” 

And with that, Karl makes no hesitation in cupping your cheeks, silently wiping away your tears. In that moment, he decides that he doesn't want to be your friend anymore either. Leaning in, he whispers, “I love you too.” before he crashes his lips onto yours.

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #karl x reader #karl fluff #karl jacobs fluff #mcyt x reader #best friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #mcyt au #mcytumblr #mcyt fic

[hhjs]

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary  —   Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

 You accept it. 

 For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

 Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all. 

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour.  Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe.  While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him. 

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell. 

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

 Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose.  You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger  stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

 You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night.  See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart. 

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.”  he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

 “I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

 Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've  passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side. 

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous. 

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it. 

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say. 

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

— 

Kiss underneath a mistletoe. 

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right. 

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different.  Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

  Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

 He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

— 

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh.  Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

 Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you?  "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."  

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know.  Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

— 

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of  honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear,   "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

#kwritersworldnet #stayhavennet #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfiction #skz fluff #skz angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #jeongin x reader #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

[sourholland]

A Royal Convenience || Tom Holland

a royal convenience blurb - i highly suggest reading the series before reading this

a/n - this is much longer than my usual arc blurbs, it’s almost three thousand words. it’s very nostalgic, though. it’s almost like a second epilogue!

Many years had passed, the nineteenth century fading into a distant memory. As quickly as your youthful teenage years had dawned on you, they were gone just as fast. It was a bittersweet thing, watching your skin become ridden with age and stress.

Even in the years that had passed so feverishly, you could still recall the smell of fresh air as you stepped off that ship at eighteen years old. The times were changing, the people were changing. It was a progressive era, one you felt sad you wouldn’t be able to see through to the end. At the same time you were content, you had enjoyed a very disorderly youth.

In the time that passed, your children had now had their own children, some of which who had begun to have their own children. It was odd, to watch them as you and Tom once were.

“Granny?” Anne called out, Alexander’s youngest who had been named after your dearest, most loyal friend.

Anne had died shortly after the birth of your fourth child. She caught the fever, already into her older years. It was a difficult loss, terribly difficult. She had very fortunately been able to see your fourth child, Prince Leopold, take his first breath, offering his nickname. From that day on, he was called Leo.

When Alexander had named his only daughter after the woman he only remembered bits and pieces of, you wept. He knew how much you adored her, especially with all of the stories Tom had told him as he got older.

“Where’d you find that old thing?” You asked her humorously, noticing the large, very overcrowded scrapbook she was holding. “I haven’t seen that in ages.”

“I found it stowed away in some of papa’s old things,” she remarked. “I thought you might like to look through it.”

Anne was a curious thing, just sixteen and very keen to know everything and anything. She looked a lot like you as a young girl, with those eyes that Tom had passed to Alexander. Funny enough, she’d even inherited that same lopsided grin that you knew so well. It was the same one you’d been on the other end of for decades.

The scrapbook was quite familiar to you, especially being that it was so shoved full of things from when you had just been married. It was covered in a thick layer of dust, many years of neglect quite prominent in the condition.

“Of course, darling!” You smiled unwaveringly at her. “Set it down, let’s have a look.”

There was an inscription on the inside, reminding you that the book itself had been a wedding gift from Charlotte. It felt so long ago that she was just a dear friend and companion to you. She was your lady in waiting for a brief time, then she went on to marry Harrison and have two daughters.

To document many years to come and their happy memories.

Lottie

The next page caught you by surprise, only the first bit of the book and you were nearly in tears. In a grainy black font, clippings of at least five newspapers were pasted to the dull yellow page. It felt like you were being knocked into the past, hand grazing the paper gently. Smiling softly, you heard Anne chuckle from beside you.

THE PRINCE OF WALES ENGAGED TO BE WED THIS SPRING

“Were you scared?” She asked. “Auntie Maggie told me some.”

“I was absolutely mortified, if I’m being perfectly honest. I took a ship from France, for days I couldn’t keep anything down. Once I reached land, I was just happy to be able to step onto solid ground.”

Recalling the events of that day, you remembered your atrocious hair after the long journey and disheveled clothing. They’d put you in the carriage and sent you off like it was nothing, the next thing you knew, you were standing before the King and Queen of England. How bizarre times were, these days there was something called the automobile. Carriages would be out of fashion soon enough.

“Is it true, then?” Anne questioned bashfully. “I never believed that you and Grandfather could ever have hated each other.”

“Oh, you should have seen us that young and stubborn. He told me he’d never willingly marry him that day, I was furious.”

“What did you say?” She leaned forward as if it was gossip.

“I told him the feeling was mutual, of course!”

She erupted into a fit of girlish giggles, saying something about how she wished she could’ve seen it. You thought back to that moment, wishing you could tell your younger self how you would get through the hard times. How worth it, it would be.

Flipping to the next page, you could have cried with tears of joy. It was not uncommon to find pressed peonies around any space you inhabited, but this was one of the first white peony that Anne had ever threaded into your hair. It was from that first ball you’d attended, a week into your stay at Buckingham Palace.

Looking down at your lap, it was like your aged hands disappeared and you were seeing yourself from that moment. The blue gown you wore sat so nicely, the bitter taste of your situation re-emerging on your lips.

“Is there some significance of this dating?” She pointed to the small ink at the corner of the page: March, 1871

“There is,” you murmured to yourself. “It was a very significant night, when I wore these flowers in my hair. Ask your grandfather and I’m sure he’ll tell you all about how he called me childish and proud.”

Flipping to the next side, you sighed at the very tainted and tear-stained draft of a letter you’d intended to send to your mother. From what you remembered, this copy was very similar, but much less put together compared to what you actually sent. It had worn heavily with age, but some excerpts were clearly legible. Anne began to read aloud.

“‘I am writing to tell you that this wedding cannot go forth, it will be an absolute catastrophe for everyone,’” she read wearily. “‘I do not wish to marry the Prince of Wales, nor do I wish to become the Queen of England. Frankly, I would rather any other man.’”

She was skipping to see what made sense on the parchment, majority of it was unreadable and the authentic letter was long gone. Your mother had succumbed to disease many years ago. Some bit before your father died and Louis became King of France.

“‘Maman, please help me. Please tell me that it is not too late,’” she made out. “‘I cannot go on like this any longer, I will not. I love my liberty far too much to subject myself to such a fate.’”

“I was quite the fan of dramatics back then,” you laughed at the long and drawn out passages you’d written in hopes of a way home.

“Granny, it sounds like you were miserable in England,” Anne sighed, clearly taken aback. “I just don’t understand.”

And hopefully she never would, you thought to yourself.

It had been a lucky draw, yours and Tom’s situation. Love had blossomed from something more like hatred. You’d grown fond of each other, eventually building a life with each other. Many marriages forced at the hands of a monarchy were unalike.

Beside the drafted letter was a single slip of parchment, carved into it was a quote you remember so clearly from A Tale of Two Cities. The words were pushed deep into the paper, ink splattered all over it.

“Think now and then that there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you.”

Anne did not need to know of a certain auburn haired mistress that had inspired this little art project. Nettie Bennett was a name you had not spoken aloud in decades, a name you wished terribly to forget. You did not judge Tom based on Nettie, nor had you ever planned to throw her back in his face by telling Anne.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your granddaughter to keep such a thing close to her chest, but the fact that you had reserved that name for the past only. Anne need not think of her grandfather any less.

This time she moved to see what bit of history was next. It was a very familiar bit of sheet music, a Chopin duet to be specific. This memory was nearly tainted by Nikolai, but you chose to look at the more positive outcomes of that night. A boy and girl at the piano, sworn to despise each other at all odds. Only they couldn’t, not in that moment.

The next few pages were little things here and there, fabric swatches and drawn up plans from when they were crafting your wedding gown. Oh how disappointed everyone was when you’d chosen white. Anne asked a million questions, she spoke so fondly of the wedding that was held long before her birth.

The next was a headline you remember gravely:

SHOTS FIRED AT PRINCE OF WALES AND BRIDE

You definitely did not miss only being referred to as his bride. It was quite a tasking thing, being engaged to the next King of England. Anne had known the story from the carriage ride through Hyde Park, Tom told it every Christmas. He usually left out the part about how you’d teased him with your engagement ring.

“What’s this?” She asked, pointing to the bit of black lace threaded into the paper.

It was from the veil you’d worn that dreadful day at the Tower of London. It was a memory you wished not to rehash, one to never be forgotten, though. It had been the first and last public execution you witnessed.

“A story for another day,” you breathed.

Next was a bit of the corset Tom had ripped apart from that ball a few days later. Even now, the memory turned your face ablaze. Shaking your head, you wished to rid yourself of the burning sensation with a chuckle.

“How about this one?” She touched the corset, looking at you curiously.

“A story for—when you’re older.”

Looking to the next page, you realized it was the first photograph in the book. A black and white moment captured between you and Tom, straight faced and clearly vexed with each other at the time. You had just had a row the day before, it was by the pond on the property if you recalled correctly.

Nicola had dragged you inside to take the photograph, your ring on display very clearly. Your dress was light, Tom was looking rather put off with you. However, this was normal for the time it was taken. Beside it though, you barely remembered this photo. White spots covered the corners, but it was slightly off guard in a way that your face was slightly blurry from moving your head and he was staring at you so intently.

“Look at you,” Anne cooed. “You looked so beautiful, you look a bit like—”

“You,” you responded coyly. “That’s where you get your good looks.”

In a small bunch, you noticed the pins all pasted to the page of the next section in the book. You had retrieved them from the library floor after Tom pulled them from your hair in a fleeting decision. They were old, little pearls at the top of the clip. It had been a long time since you’d seen them.

Anne had pointed out the photograph of you and Tom during your engagement at Windsor Castle. Sam and Harry were beside you, Paddy still very short at your left. It was taken outside, you remembered all of the equipment being put out and the man who crouched underneath the black sheet to capture it.

“Windsor was what made me really fall in love with Tom,” you smiled at the memories. “It turned out being such a nice trip.”

“It must have been so magical,” she replied with a breathy laugh.

“Well, we’d had a bit of a row about a man called Nikolai. Another story for another day.”

As if the world was mocking you, there was another small note that Tom had written up and given to you on a spare bit of parchment. That night, well Tom had made sure Nikolai left the country. It was in his once pristine and very beautiful handwriting that had now gone shaky.

I need to speak with you, meet me in my chambers just following dinner.

— Tom

There was an assortment of small things, photographs of just you, some with Sam and Harry. You found stamped lilies from your wedding bouquet, eyes watering at the sight. Anne picked up the letter you knew all too well, it was Tom’s vows to you from your wedding day.

She read silently, a smile playing on her lips and she went on. It was quite nostalgic, to see that paper after such a long time. Setting the parchment down, she had tears in her eyes.

“That’s so romantic,” she said outwardly.

It was beginning to get late, watching Anne flip through some photographs from the beginning of your marriage. She found pictures from when Alexander had been born, and then when James came along. It was much more difficult to get them to sit still after Margaret was born and they were so hyperactive.

“We opted for paintings majority of the time,” you added. “Oh look, there’s Leo’s christening. He was the first and only with any actual photo from his, all of the rest only had paintings we commissioned.”

She watched the children grow up through old photos, little things pasted to the pages. When Leo was three, you had your fifth and final child. Princess Alice sat idly on your lap in one of the photos, she looked so happy. Her face was a bit blurry from movement, but you could make out her smile. Standing at your right was Alexander, he was nearly fourteen and looked so much like Tom when you first met. Beside him was James, twelve and disdainful looking. You remembered how adamant he was to not be taking this picture.

Margaret was six, her hair at her shoulders with a bright grin playing on her lips. She had a hand on her new sisters dress, looking down at her adoringly. Leo was three, his hair was slicked down and he only wanted to run around and play. His mouth was opening to speak, you could still remember what he was saying. Margaret had stepped on his foot so he was going to shout at her.

“Maggie!” He had yelled, his kid-voice making you laugh.

Finally shutting the book, your promised Anne that you would go through it more later on. She was saddened, wanting to see more, but agreed nonetheless.

“Don’t worry,” you told her. “I’ve got plenty more stories to tell you.”

#a royal convenience #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #elle’s fics #tom holland #prince!tom #tom holland series #tom holland blurb #royal!tom

[secretshinigami]

All Noble Things

Author: @kiranatrix For: @resilicns Pairings/Characters: Near and Gevanni Rating/Warnings: Gen, no warnings Prompt: Near reflecting on his relationship with Wammy’s and L’s reputation Author’s notes: In How to Read, it says that Gevanni’s hobby is building ships in a bottle. So I imagined a scene where Near is observing Gevanni, now in the role of Watari, building a special ship. The time period is flexible but I imagined it after the C-Kira case and before the case with Minoru. This is a loose interpretation of your prompt but I hope you enjoy it!

—

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Gevanni.” Near didn’t look up as he carefully laid out another domino on the floor, perfectly spaced from its neighbor and approximately two centimeters from chaos. Pinched fingers pulled back carefully and twisted around a strand of white hair. “Two things, really.”

Gevanni looked up from his workbench as the long but comfortable silence between them was broken. Since Roger had died and he’d taken on the role of Watari, he was usually the question-asker. Would you like lunch now? Have you heard back about this or that piece of evidence? Did you have another nightmare last night? 

He’d gotten used to it, to Near. To being the bedrock that an island could rest upon. “Two questions?”

No, he was more of a species imported to Near’s world and being gradually altered by the isolation, evolving to fill his niche. But he had no complaints–it was a quiet, stable life and Near paid him well. He didn’t mind the solitude. “You’re exceeding your daily allotment. I’ll have to demand a raise if this keeps up.”

“I believe I gave you a raise just three months ago. If these demands keep up, I’ll have to find another Watari.” Near deadpanned it but his eyes flicked up briefly, and Rester knew he was joking. Another domino clinked against the terrazzo floors, this one with hand-carved scrimshaw detailing a breaching whale.

Gevanni snorted and turned back to the ship in a bottle he was working on. “Good luck finding someone else to source those pajamas with the specific blend of Pima cotton you prefer. I’ve kept that a secret. Iron-clad job security.” He grinned as he carefully reached a long wire into the bottle to pat down blue and white putty mimicking ocean waves. “So, what’s question number one?”

“Can you tie back my hair? It keeps getting in the way.” Near flicked a long strand over his shoulder but it fell again, dangling dangerously close to his creation. “Mind the–”

“Dominos? Yeah, I’m practically a ninja at this point.” Gevanni pushed his loupe glasses to the top of his head before carefully making his way over spiraling lines of set-up dominos to Near at the center. He knelt and pulled a hair-tie from his pocket, holding it between his teeth as he gathered up all the silvery strands. “Holf spill,” he murmured around the band. Near was stone-still as he made a quick and slightly messy ponytail, leaving some loose hair around the face for twirling. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you.” Near very briefly made eye contact as Gevanni went back to his workbench before looking back to his pile of dominos. He sorted through them for another scrimshaw piece. Gevanni had made a special set for him on his last birthday but he always saved them for the end. 

“Mmhm.” Gevanni slid back into his chair and picked up the little ship, a model of a 19th-century whaler. “So what was the second question?” 

“I was curious what you were working on.” Near let a domino tumble across his knuckles, back and forth, back and forth. “You’ve never spent that much time on just one ship before.” He caught the domino with his thumb and placed it next in line. 

“Oh, so you noticed?” Gevanni held up the little whaler on his palm, clearly proud of the highly detailed craftsmanship. All the masts were down and tied with an array of strings that could be pulled up once it was in the bottle to raise them. “I guess this one’s special since it doesn’t really exist. Thought I’d challenge myself. It’s…well, it’s how I imagine the Pequod to look, the whaling ship in–“

“Moby Dick?” Near stared at the miniature vessel, head slightly cocked as he smoothed a loose strand of hair. “The ship Captain Ahab used to chase his white whale.”

Gevanni smiled. “That’s right. It’s one of my favorite books. Have you read it?” 

“Years ago. I remember not liking it very much. The whale killed him in the end.” Near placed the last couple of dominos and let out a long sigh. The moments before flicking the first piece were the ones he both cherished and dreaded. The satisfaction of creation could be drawn out like a  monotone note, but when it was finished, the spectacular destruction was often over too soon. So, he hesitated and stood up instead, padding to Gevanni’s workbench to watch more creation. 

“I bet you’d like the book more these days. Single-minded obsession to defeat a power past human control? Throwing all caution and sense of self-preservation to the wind? The thrill of the chase?” Gevanni arched a brow. “Can’t tell me that doesn’t sound familiar.”

Near frowned slightly and hunched in on himself. “I suppose you mean L. Or do you characterize me as so foolish?”

“You’re L now.” Gevanni disliked that he had to remind Near of that even now, years after the first L had died. “But yes, it reminds me of what Matsuda told us about your predecessor’s obsession with Kira. I never met the first L, but maybe I can understand him, in a way.” He quoted Melville, "All my means are sane, my motive and my object mad.’ You’re L but you’re not him, and I’m glad for it.”

Near wasn’t sure if he was glad for it or not. So many times over the years he’d compared himself to that avatar and wondered if he could measure up. Drily, “I guess that makes me Ishmael." 

"You survived, didn’t you? Lived to tell the tale and learn what he couldn’t." 

Gevanni turned back to the little ship, carefully threading another string through the rear-most mast. He worked quietly for a while, cognizant of Near’s focused attention and feeling sorry for bringing up the Kira case. It wasn’t often that Near took such an interest in his own projects, or perhaps the man was merely thinking about what he’d said. “Sit down, if you want to. I’m about to get to the exciting part.”

Near pulled a chair closer and slinked into it, one leg pulled tight to his chest and the other dangling off the end. “Which is the exciting part? Stuffing it into the bottle?”

“That’s part of it. The thrilling part for me is raising the masts and sails inside the bottle.” Gevanni pointed to the flat masts and the multiple lines of string leading from them. “If anything goes wrong or a string gets tangled…or some bit of glue doesn’t hold, well–”

“You’re screwed.” Near smiled faintly and rested his chin on his knee. “Hours of planning for one moment of glory. Or disaster.” It also sounded familiar, so familiar.

“Exactly.” Gevanni chuckled and looked over at Near, pleased to see that small, rare smile. That in itself was the product of so much patience, of hours spent in understanding and the slow building of confidence and trust. “Once I get the ship in, would you like to raise the sails?”

Near’s eyes widened and he rocked slightly in the chair. That was Gevanni’s moment of glory and he deserved it after so much time and hard work. The inlaid wood, the meticulous paint, the delicately carved and articulated ship’s wheel capped in brass. The hand-sewn sails and gold script that read Pequod on the ship’s side. Each detail was evidence that someone else had built this and he would only be stealing the best part, swooping in for the end of the trick.

“You built it so you should do it.” It didn’t help that he was worried about making a mistake and ruining it at the last moment. How would it even fit? Despite the masts lying flat, it seemed impossible that the ship would make it inside the bottle. “I don’t know how.”

Gevanni sensed Near’s hesitation and uncertainty, recognizing the subtle tics of anxiety. “I can show you. You’re great at stuff like this.” He motioned to the vast lines and towers of dominos filling the room. “Plus, I trust you.” 

When Near didn’t answer, he turned back to the ship, placing a small line of glue at the bottom and oh-so-carefully maneuvering it into the narrow mouth of the glass bottle and onto the ‘waves’ of translucent blue putty. It was a very tight fit and when it stuck down in the right position, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Not bad, huh?” The strings dangled from the bottle’s mouth as he held it up to show Near. “Offer still stands.”

Near wanted to do it, to try. Honestly, he wanted to ask Gevanni to show him how to build one of his own, how to trump the rigid enclosure and build something impossible inside. To raise it up not by magic but by human ingenuity and patience. A creation not to destroy but to keep.

“Alright.” His fingers moved from his hair to tentatively touch the white strings hanging from the bottle’s mouth. “All of them?”

“Just these.” Gevanni pointed out several lines connected to the three masts. “Don’t yank, just pull slowly until you feel resistance and I’ll tape them up.”

“If it works.”

Gevanni laughed quietly. “It’ll work. Stop stalling.”

Near mumbled, “I’m not stalling,” but stalled a moment more before gently tugging the strings. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat when all three masts raised in unison, perfectly aligned and straight. He smiled as Gevanni secured the strings, then slid off the chair to gaze at the bottle from the side. This floating world, this impossible thing that’s bottled the sea. “I can see why you like these so much.” 

“It passes the time.” Gevanni felt warm inside since it was rare that they connected like this, despite all the time spent in each other’s company. He glued the strings to the ship with a long wire and then cut them, leaving no trace of how it had really been made. Setting it on the bench to dry, he said, “Would you like to have it? I have about a dozen. I mean, if you want it.”

“As a warning against white whales?” Near smirked and climbed back into the chair. He fingered the hem of his specially-ordered Pima cotton pajamas, the exact blend he preferred. “Or for the memory of Ahab?”

“Neither? Or…maybe both.” Gevanni knew that so much had changed for Near when Kira died. Monster or not, that moment of destruction had ultimately felt unsatisfying. He knew Near struggled with assuming the name and reputation of L, a legacy that had become so confused in the mind of a world that would never know two L’s had died and a third now had to make peace with that. It was easier to bottle ships than emotions.

Mildly, “Or maybe just because it’s something we built together.” It was odd, but somehow it would mean a lot to him for Near to have it. “How about it?” 

Near found a loose string at the hem of his pants and yanked it, snapping the thread. He got up and crouched beside the winding, spiraling rows of dominos and pressed a slender finger against the first one. That catalyst set off the reaction, the staccato clack clack clack! that echoed in the high-ceilinged room. It was over in seconds and silence crept in again. 

“I’d like that.”

-End-

[The title comes from a quote in Moby Dick: "A noble craft, but somehow a most melancholy. All noble things are touched with that.” It reminded me of  Gevanni’s rather solitary hobby as well as the occupation of solving cases as L.]

#fanfiction #death note #submission #near #gevanni #ratings: general #kiranatrix #resilicns #Near's Bday Finale 2k21

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

Can i request for the agst prompt "i can't do this anymore" for an s/o and dazai. I don't have any preferences but anything you make is absolutely amazing so I don't mind. If your to busy and are not able to do it, its fine just make sure not to over work yourself, take care. <3

Character: Mafia!Dazai x reader

Warnings: really angsty i guess, mentions of suicide (relax he doesn’t die), there may be some spelling errors

Notes: Thanks for the compliments anon! It is highly appreciated. Have a great day/night and keep safe. Okay ngl, towards the ending paragraphs I felt like crying as I wrote this, he deserves so much better, thank you sm for requesting

_______________________________

Tainted Angel

Forbidden it was to find love in the world of bloodshed and nightly terror. In a place full of demons and tainted angels. The demonic prodigy supposed he was a demon and you were the tainted angel.

Even though he wasn’t good at expressing true emotions such as love especially through words, he’d always somehow make it known that he did love you. It was a luxury to be able to cuddle together the night away, both of your jobs were tedious and tiring.

But you managed to sustain a loving relationship with each other anyway. The love you both had for each other was endless as one could say, a demon and his tainted angel dancing in the pits of hell.

However, even if that love was endless, the relationship was not. 

_______________________________

“Odasaku!” yelled a strained voice. It almost sounded as if it was scared. The mafioso dropped to his knees at his dear friend’s side, his lips quivering and eyes glossy. 

‘Become a good person, at least that would make it a little more beautiful.’ is what his friend said, that he should save a few orphans. Was he really meant to lose everything that was dear to him?

He would learn that the answer is yes once his thoughts tread back to you, what was he supposed to do with you in the picture now? Could he really take you along with him? Or was it best if you never saw him again? Was he really able to even love anymore? These questions flew in his mind rapidly, he felt rather empty now.

_______________________________

He came back to your shared home a night after his friend died in his aching arms. You were worried, you knew that it wasn’t uncommon for him to go missing once in a while, but under the circumstances now, you were dreading the worst.

Dazai closed the door behind him and you made your way over to him, first thing wrapping your arms around him and running your fingers through his hair. He stood there for a few seconds not doing anything, but soon wrapping his arms around you, he couldn’t help the tears that threatened to escape, he felt like an overflowing dam about to crack under the pressure.

He’d soon told you that you both couldn’t stay here any longer and had to flee. You didn’t question him, trusting him fully and you both packed things that were essential and took one last look at your shared place and left, fleeing into the night’s embrace.

_______________________________

You both found a decent place to rent off a while. He has to stay underground for at least two years. It was necessary, he had already looked for a job, a place named the Armed Detective Agency, he’d work there in two years time.

But something about him changed, you had noticed. He was more distant, didn’t return much affection as he used to nor did he even care most days to get out of bed, others he’d just leave for almost a whole day to be by himself and come ‘home’ late at night.

It worried you, but you understood that his best friend just died and he was going through a tough time. Everyone needs to heal at their own pace, but you weren’t even sure if he was ever going to heal.

He looked more empty day by day you noted, you didn’t seem to know what to do.

_______________________________

After months, he realized he couldn’t make you bare with him like this anymore. He didn’t want to be a burden to you anymore, he was basically a walking corpse at this point.

"I...I can't do this anymore" he said with an almost dead voice, it sounded as if he was extremely tired. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and you were next to him. “What do you...what do you mean Dazai?” it was your turn now, to sound scared, what did he mean by that?

“...I can’t keep burdening you like this, it’d be best if I die or if this relationship doesn’t last anymore.” he said turning his head away from you. Your eyes were glossy and you were at a loss for words, it broke your heart to hear him say that, to hear him say that it’d be best if he no longer existed.

Your hands gripped the edge of the bed, “D-Dazai, don’t say that, I’m...sure that...there’s something we could do, something that will make you feel better...” “I said I can’t do this anymore!” he blurted out, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, he felt overwhelmed, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Tears fell from your eyes, streaming like a little river down your cheeks, eyes widened. He looked down at the floor and tears fell to the ground. “I don’t wanna live anymore, I can’t!” he painfully said shaking his head.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces, why was life so unfair? What did he ever do to deserve such suffering? Why did he have to wish for death since such a young age? Listening to your broken heart, you grabbed him and held his head on your chest, resting your chin atop his head.

“It’ll be okay.” you whispered unsure of what else to say. He didn’t say anything in response, he only nuzzled into your chest more as his tears drenched his face. You played with hair, running your fingers through it, trying to calm down the stormy waters, he was in so much pain.

You kissed his head and rubbed his back, all he needed was someone to comfort him, to hold him, to love him. He was just a child who was left alone to cry in the darkness for too long, perhaps you were the only one left who could shine a ray of light as a rope for him to use to climb out of his abyss of darkness and doubt. He wasn’t a demon, he was just a tainted angel.

#requests #anon #dazai x reader #mafia!dazai x reader #dazai x reader angst #bungo stray dogs #bsd angst #scenario #oneshot #i enjoyed writing this