#this chapter is A LOT so let me know what you think!

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 1)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 2700+

A/N Note: OK! Here we go! I'm excited to share this mini-series and what's to come in it. It's a lot more in-depth than I thought it would be, but I love it. I hope you do as well :) Anyway! As always, please let me know what you think, and all comments are welcome!

_____________

“And you chose those two to go on a task together?” Steve exasperated, running a hand over his face as he looked over the video footage in front of them.

“Everyone else was on a mission,” Tony exclaimed. 

“That and it doesn’t matter what their petty vendettas against each other are. They’re professionals at the end of the day that better get their God damn acts together before I personally make them regret it,” Fury countered. 

“Undercover newlyweds seems like a risky assignment for them,” Nat added. “Steve and I have done it before. We can-”

“No, you can not,” Fury cut them off and clicked a button on his desk that swapped the video footage of druglords to a file slowly scrolling. “You both have an assignment I’m sending you in the next hour in correlation to this case. So without your work, theirs is pointless. Got it?”

Nat and Steve shared a quick look before the blonde gave him a curt nod for him to continue. 

Fury went on to explain how an insider of the criminal group had confirmed shipments, including hostages working as drug mules and other illegal substances that hadn’t been tested yet across US borders. A whole operation in itself, but Bucky and Y/N’s job would give them information the current insiders they had on the job weren’t able to attain. 

Y/N and Bucky’s undercover assignment was to act as newlyweds, infiltrate the front runners of the group, and try to become a proven alliance in hopes of joining the group in their ‘business’.

“So we’re on standby with information until they have leads to help our end?” Steve concluded. 

“Yes. And vice versa. You’re running tactical, and they’re running intelligence, although a mix in between,” Fury nodded, handing them a paper copy of the mission.

“And it can’t go the other way?” Nat asked. 

“Your faces have become much too well known in the last few years for it to be passable,” Tony added, arms crossed and reclined in the rolling office chair he couldn’t see to keep stationary. “Bucky doesn’t care for the public eye and has changed appearances since his run from the government, and no one can forget America’s sweetheart over here,” he motioned to Steve.  

“I’ve changed identities enough to get by,” Nat shrugged, watching the brunette carefully. 

“Yes, but Y/N’s face hasn’t graced the nationwide flatscreens nearly as much as yours,” he smiled spryly and fluttered his eyelashes. “Plus, it’s already been decided, so we’re moving on from the argument.”

“How long of an operation are we talking about here if the two have to create a relationship with the front runners of this?” Steve asked.

“Depends on how well the couple can sell it,” Fury crossed his arms. “Speaking of the couple.”

“Shove me again, and you’ll lose another limb that you’ll miss far more than that arm,” Y/N growled as she pushed past the massive body blocking her way into the meeting room. 

“There’s a thing called manners, and it’s free to use them,” Bucky grunted as she shoved him with surprising strength that made him slightly teeter. 

 The group outside of the new additions gave each other a hopeless look. 

“I give it two days,” Steve sighed, resting his head on his fist and watching them as they struggled to find the last open chair. Y/N came on top of the scrabble and shoved him again for extra measures. 

“Jackass,” Bucky mumbled as he leaned against the wall behind her, kicking her chair in extra annoyance. 

“Bitchass,” Y/N retorted, throwing a middle finger behind her. 

“I think you give them too much credit,” Nat let out a dry chuckle before turning to Fury. “Please, break the news to the two idiots so I can have a highlight of this night.” 

“What news?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows to Fury. She was one of the few people who didn’t show fear towards the walking intimidation of a man. 

“Your next mission,” Tony answered in a long breath. “Where you and Barnes will be known as Mr. and Mrs. Hunt.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky gawked and stood straighter in his spot.

“What’s the date today?” Y/N asked at the same time. 

Bucky came around from her back and gave her a worried yet disgusted look. “I’m sorry. For what reason are you worried about the date?”

She never took her eyes off Fury. “I’m just trying to clarify if it’s April 1st or not because this is a poorly done April Fools joke,” she held an equally intimidating stare at the master in front of her. 

“It’s June. You’re off by a few months,” he replied, unphased and unbreaking. 

“Then I’d like some clarification on who needs a fucking lobotomy, considering that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve heard today. And I’ve been around this dumbass for the last 12 hours already,” she jabbed a finger back at Bucky, whose nostrils were flaring. 

“Real classy, Princess,” he said lowly. 

“Thanks, I like to keep it that way, Cyborg,” she replied without turning to him. “But seriously, is it you, Fury, that needs a Psych eval because there is no way in hell you thought this idea would actually work out in your favor.”

The room was silent as the two most intense people in the room had a stare-down. Eventually, Fury spoke up with a smirk on his lips. 

“You better figure the fuck out how to make it work in my favor because any other way isn’t really an option for you, Sergeant Y/L/N.” 

Before Y/N could fire another remark that would likely have put anyone else six feet in the ground, Bucky cut her off. “What’s the mission?”

Y/N finally gave Bucky her attention with a stern face freckled with annoyance. “Teacher’s pet.” Bucky made a face at her before she turned around. 

Fury went on to explain the mission on both their end and Nat and Steve’s. From the sounds of it, it was going to take months of convincing some dicks in the drug trafficking business (covering as presidents of the homeowner association club) that they wanted in on their scheme in order to get the information no one else seems to be able to steal.

“How many sundresses do you own, Y/N? Because I don’t think your rock band, ripped jeans, and Doc Martens are going to convince anyone you’re the baked-you-a-fresh-pie-as-a-hello-to-the-neighborhood-kind of wife,” he added, emphasizing the label he had already created for her undercover character.

“How are they going to take to a half-robotic husband?” she shoved his vibranium hand off the back of her chair.  

“I have technology for that,” Tony jumped in. 

“And I have your credit card for a new wardrobe, so I guess that solves both those problems,” she flashed a fake smile at Tony before crossing her arms snuggly across her chest. 

“You’re gonna have to leave that attitude at home, too,” Bucky got down to whisper in her ear, and he moved fast enough before she could sucker punch him in the face.

“Why not just arrest these two? Why go through the whole process of undercover work if we know they’re running the operation?” Y/N questioned, pivoting side to side in her chair as she thought aloud.

“Because there isn’t solid evidence, thanks to their associates being connected enough to cover shit up,” Fury answered. “And we believe there are multiple parties of their stature in the game. Meaning, we arrest them, the others scatter, and we risk losing a lot of information and take 20 steps back from where we’re at.” 

“Hmm,” she nodded as she stared off into a void space in the room, calculating her approach to this. 

“You’re actually considering this?” Nat asked. “I expected more of a fight.”

“I’m telling myself that it’s the drugs and possible human trafficking I’m doing this for, and tormenting Bucky along the way will be a bonus instead of a nuisance,” she replied with a weak smile like she was still convincing herself that.

“Smart,” Nat shrugged and gave an agreeable face.

“Your flights are leaving in four and a half hours, so I suggest packing your bag of necessities before we ship you off,” Tony sat up from his chair, stretching. “Any other things you need will be provided at the house already set up for you two to play the part of newlyweds. And get used to that word because it's about to become extremely annoying hearing it on repeat. Barnes comes with me to get that looking more human-like,” he pointed at his arm before walking out. 

Bucky scanned over the file in hand and let out a sigh. “We couldn’t get stationed beach somewhere in Hawaii?” 

“You’ll find the mountains rather eye-catching this time of the year,” Fury typed a few things on his desk and clasps his hands behind his back. “And that you don’t have a choice either way. Dismissed.” 

___________________

Y/N’s POV

The amount of junk they had pawned off to us as “newlywed cargo” seemed excessive. Brand new appliances were still in boxes unopened, letters on them saying who had gifted them to us as our “wedding gift” littered the kitchen and entryway. 

I was currently in the guest room unpacking a box of linens and bedding in the spare closet. My mind was a hundred miles away from my physical body, but somehow, I had managed to organize the closet in a surprisingly efficient manner while on autopilot. 

“Honey,” Bucky’s voice came from the hallway, and I took advantage of the times I wasn’t being watched to roll my eyes at the pet name. Before I could respond with a snarky comment, he followed up with, “The next-door neighbors are here to introduce themselves. Wanna come say hi?” 

Showtime. 

“Be right out!” I shouted back, standing from my spot, crouched to the ground, and brushing off one of the many new sundresses now taking up space in my closet.

For clarity, it’s not that I was against them; it just wasn’t my usual taste. Though the freeness of no pants was starting to rub off on me…

Coming around the corner of the hallway to our homey new abode, I plastered an award-winning smile on my face and scanned the two individuals in front of Bucky. I gave Bucky a silent look that read, “Hey sweetheart,” to outsiders and, “The assholes in question?” to a trained eye. 

“Doll,” Bucky started, nodding his head once at my true question and matching my step to wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me close for extra show. “This is Reginold and Bethanne Bauer. They’re our neighbors right across the street from us,” he introduced, adding a squeeze to my hip that I countered with a pinch to his side that he chuckled off. 

The physical touch was for show, but I knew he used it as a way to irritate me further, too. Lucky for me, it’s a two-player game. 

“Please, call me Reggie,” the middle-aged man offered his hand.

The man looked like he played the role of a typical white male living in a cookie-cutter home, but his build showed he wasn’t on the unfit side of things. From the files, he was 42 years old, and he obviously had kept his health a priority because he could have been in his mid 30s, from what I gathered. 

“You must be Charlotte,” Bethanne said, jumping in when her husband didn’t release my hand in a timely manner. “My my, you’re far more beautiful up close,” she said with a sweet smile, though any woman could recognize the hint of judgment in them. 

Bethanne Bauer was a 5’6”, 38-year-old lady with darker blonde hair and a figure that showed she likely was a pilates guru who didn’t take many days off. Her Lululemon leggings and slicked-back bun confirmed this assessment. 

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” I replied with a nose crinkle and a firm squeeze of my hand before drawing it back to rest on Bucky’s chest. “We appreciate you coming by and introducing yourself,” I smiled up to Bucky, who was already looking down at me (what a showman). I leaned my head in the nook of his shoulder as I turned back to them. “We were so nervous about starting over in a new state and weren’t sure what the community would be like. But everyone’s been so kind here in Montana, and you guys are just proving that point.” 

“Oh, this neighborhood is like a family,” Reggie replied, keeping his eyes on me. I'd feel uneasy if I didn’t know how to disarm a man in five hundred ways, but I knew more than 500 ways to get a man like the one in front of me to grovel. “So much so, you may be under careful watch for a while,” he winked, and I forced a laugh out, Bucky pulling me closer to his side at the harmless threat. “I’m just joking with ya,” he waved off with a boisterous laugh of his own, and Bethanne rolled her eyes. 

“He thinks he’s a comedian,” she playfully patted his shoulder. “But really, if you guys need anything at all, we are just a shout away. Or, our welcome to the neighborhood gift basket has our phone numbers in it, too, if you prefer to call.” 

Off to the side, I noticed a cellophane wicker basket with baked goods, a wine bottle, and some gift cards in it. Bucky must have accepted it before I got in here.

“You all are too kind,” I gushed, putting a hand on my chest in appreciation. “See honey,” I swatted Bucky’s chest, getting a tiny grunt from him. “I told you we would find a home here. I have a good feeling about this community,” I winked back at them with a wide grin. 

I could see the studying eyes on the woman and decided to act oblivious to her assessing. 

“Can I ask y’all a quick question?” I asked, a twinge of a southern accent I hadn’t pulled in ages coming out casually. “Where is the best grocery store around here? I’ve heard mixed things about the two stores y’all have, and you guys seem to have great taste, so,” I motioned to the gift basket. 

Bethanne listed a few of the stores they go to, ones I had researched on our flight here to get a better grounding of our new home. Of course, they were the more high-end stops. Eventually, the Bauers excused themselves for a neighborhood meeting they had planned, and Bucky and I were left alone. As soon as the door shut, I moved to the kitchen to grab a notepad. 

“Have we unpacked the pens, Beau?” I asked loudly, using Bucky’s fake name, which he seemed to know why right off the bat.

“Second drawer by the fridge,” he motioned, opening the basket and going through it, our charades still continuing. 

“I had a few things we need to grab from the store and thanks to our helpful neighbors, we know the best spot now,” I mindlessly talked as I wrote on the note; Check for bugs.

A welcome basket was fine and dandy, but considering who it was from and how quick they were to be at our doorstep—not even two hours into the moving vans' pull-up—I knew the drill, and so did Bucky as he listed out aloud what was in the gift. 

“Wow, they got us Doordash gift cards,” he smiled, placing them on the marble counter. “Wanna eat in tonight? Maybe a local spot?” 

“Sounds good to me,” I hummed, coming around the island corner and placing the notebook beside it. “Oh, did you find their number? We can ask if they have any suggestions.”

Placing the pen on top of the notepad for Bucky to respond, I moved to look in the basket myself and grabbed the note they had attached to it. 

“Eat in, drink some wine, and,” he circled the word ‘bugs,’ confirming the suspicion before leaning on the counter and looking at me with communicative eyes that didn’t match his words. “Watch a movie if I can get the TV set up by then.”

“Sounds like a date,” I smiled, but the annoyance that we had to be playing our characters until we could dispose of the bug was playing in my eyes.

Marvel Tags:

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My Lovelies forever:

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[seeingivy]

3:45 am

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: I can't find the request, but someone asked for a sukuna version of the 3:45 am chapter of roommate eren! here it is <3

“why do you have such a shit face?” 

you look up from your computer to find sukuna lingering by the door – fidgeting with the buttons of his collar and the end of his tie – as he spares you an irritated glance. it’s one that you return right back, before hunching back over the table and focusing back in on the lab report you were writing. 

“i’m talking to you.” 

sukuna shuffles over to your side, before crouching down till your faces are side by side, the breaths coming out of his nose tickling the bare skin on your shoulder. 

“i have such a shit face because i looked at you.” you mumble. 

sukuna sucks in a breath, almost like he’s trying hard to conceal his laughter, before he leans closer, leaning his chin on your collarbone. the proximity makes it hard to ignore the sweet smell of his shampoo, which only gets worse when it’s accompanied by the sharp scent of his cologne. 

“is that any way…to repay my kindness?” sukuna questions. 

you roll your eyes, lightly jolting your shoulder up to get him to stop leaning on you. and he takes the hint just as much, as he draws up the chair at your side and pulls closer to see the molecules that you’re constructing on your computer. 

“you know, when you said you were going to do this favor for me, i wasn’t exactly expecting that you were going to hold it over my head this way.” 

ryomen sukuna was just an acquaintance – who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time – and then he wasn’t. 

it’s because he has a moral compass. or because really, he feels guilty for not telling you earlier – especially when he’s seen other friends of his in the same position as you. so when he found you down on your luck – getting cheated on by your boyfriend, who you lived with, by your best friend of all people – he offered you the extra room that he had in his apartment. 

i’m lots of things, but i’m not a sadist. that’s what he said when you snuck out in the middle of the night, all of your things packed into a box that you subsequently emptied out into the free room that he offered. he had hell to pay from your ex-boyfriend the next day, the two of them jostling it out on the basketball court, before they both got reprimanded by the coach and decided to keep their distance 

sukuna isn’t a bad roommate. he isn’t exactly a good roommate per say either. because the sweet kindness that he offered you wore off around the second day and you realized that really – he was one of the most irritating people that’s every walked the surface of this earth. 

he brought over girls – tons of them. and when you asked him to keep it down, just so you could get some assignments done or study for an exam, he’d make it a point to bring multiple girls over – just to see the irritated expression on your face. 

he’d make up for it of course. because what he lacked in face-forward politeness, he made up for with his quiet gestures. like making you breakfast the morning of said exam – set with a matcha latte that he learned how to make special for you, because you don’t like the taste of coffee. or whenever he found you crying, he’d always let you rant it out – but not without giving you a few insults about how you had no standards here and there. 

“i think it’s dumb as fuck that you aren’t going tonight.” sukuna says. 

you slam the enter key on your computer. 

“your opinion has been noted.” you respond. 

“then come.” he grates. 

athletes at the university get to attend a formal at the end of each semester. it’s a nice dinner, accompanied with a horrible DJ, and a weird mix of sentimental speeches.

really, it was actually your idea of fun. only because it always felt nice to go to events like this. it was one of the few excuses you had to use the pretty dresses that you had in your closet, actually blow out your hair to make it look nice, and use the pretty glitters that your sister had given you for your birthday last year. 

and even more than that, it always felt nice to be shown off. because you’d meet tons of people who had heard all about you – the coach, the athletic trainers – who’d all give you sweet comments about how you were far too good for your boyfriend, who would then make some silly comment about how he never knew how he got you to talk to him in the first place. 

sukuna offered to accompany you. and also promised that he’d sneak some kind of contraband in so that the two of you could actually have fun – but it was something you denied. you denied most of the offers that he made that were similar to this, even though he was quite persistent, only because you knew that it wasn’t the right time. 

for better lack of words, you felt like a kicked dog. and you needed time to recover – before you could see your old best friends, or your ex-boyfriend, or really anyone outside the three circle rotation of people that you were able to tolerate. 

“i won’t have fun. and i don’t want to be a downer on the one night that’s supposed to be for you.” you respond. 

“well, you’re always a downer. so it won’t exactly make a difference.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks. that really makes me feel better, sukuna.” 

“i live to serve.” he responds, before bracing his hands against the table and pushing off. 

he spares you one last glance before stopping at the mirror near door, toussling with his hair and the piercings hanging from his ears. it’s a passing thought that you immediately banish – that panging in your chest at the thought of sukuna enjoying the night with a lanky girl on his arm. 

“you know, if you stare for any longer, you’re going to fall in.” you respond. 

“hilarious.” he deadpans. 

“who are you going with? i’ll have to make a phone call and let her know that she’s just going to have to find her own ride.” 

“no one.” 

you feign shock, pressing one of your hands to your chest – and really, trying to hide the secret delight that you’re reveling in. 

“wow. did hell freeze over?” 

“just didn’t feel like it. this type of shit is always kind of boring.” sukuna responds. 

you shrug. 

“i don’t know. i always thought it was kind of fun.” 

sukuna turns around, sparing you one last glance. 

“you know, i do recall that you would stand in the corner and talk to the moms all night. that sounds like my personal nightmare.” 

you smile. 

“well, that’s just because the moms don’t really like you. i however get along with them quite well.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“i’m sure that’s true. i’ll see you, okay? don’t sleep too late.” 

you give him a sly look. 

“worried about me?” 

“no, you just look ugly with eye bags.” 

--

you do not take sukuna’s advice. instead, you finish up your lab report and open a bottle of pink wine – to accompany you in your endeavors to watch ten things i hate about you. 

and it goes considerably well – until you hear a slamming pounding on your door at 3:45 am. you reach for the closest jacket, one of sukuna’s hoodies, before pulling it over your shorts and peeking out of the peephole. 

you swing the door open. 

“right. hi.” 

you pause. 

“megumi, right?” 

“yeah. just bringing sukuna back. he’s plastered.” 

you look down to where he’s gesturing to find sukuna slumped against the wall, offering you a half hearted smile from his bloodied nose. 

“right. well, thanks for bringing him back. what happened to his face?” 

“same as last time.” 

you roll your eyes, as megumi drags sukuna up by the arms. he stumbles in the air, leaning his weight against you, as you shoot megumi one last smile before slamming the door shut. 

the sweet smell of his shampoo and cologne is gone all together – now replaced with the mix of metallic blood, sweat, and the faintest smell of beer. 

“sit down, sukuna. i’m going to clean you up.” you mumble, trying to stabilize him in the air to stand by himself. 

“y/n?” he asks, before stumbling in the air. 

you reach forward, trying to brace his fall as he looks down at you – suddenly somewhat awake as his face breaks out into a small smile. he reaches forward, bringing one of his bloodied knuckles to cup the side of your face. 

“y/n.” he whispers. 

you swallow the block in your throat in your stomach. 

“don’t try to sweet talk me. i’m mad at you.” you respond, dragging him towards the center before leaning him against the kitchen counter. 

you reach down to the bottom of the sink, setting a glass of water aside and pulling out the little box of first aid that you had put together once you got here and put it at his side. you open up the neatly organized compartments, pulling out the gauze and the alcohol wipes, before turning back to him. 

“don’t be mad, princess.” he mumbles. 

you feel your cheeks burn. 

“don’t call me that.” 

“isn’t that what you are? my little brat?” 

you scoff. 

“are you trying to insult me?” you ask, reaching for his left hand first and swiping the area clean. 

“you have no…no idea what i think about you.” 

you reach for the wrappings, tucking them in against the callousness of his hands, as he looks down, locking his fingers in with yours. and then he leans forward, snaking one of his hands around your neck. 

you quickly shuffle yourself out of his embrace, before lightly pushing him back. he seems to take the cue, before you lean forward again, slightly hesitant this time, as you wipe the area around his nose. 

“why’d you fight with him this time?” 

sukuna scrunches his face up – irritated at the mention of the past few hours. 

“nothing he didn’t fucking deserve.” 

“right. last time, he missed a three pointer and you socked him in the face. so let me guess, he was two hours late today and you just got carried away?” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“he was running his mouth.” 

your curiosity has piqued. 

“about?” 

“you.” sukuna slurs. 

you smile. 

“so glad to see you had sound judgment tonight, sukuna.” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

sukuna leans forward, his lips a little too dangerously close as he rests his hands at the sides of your waist. 

“he brought that stupid bitch with him.” 

“sukuna.” you warn. 

“he brought. that stupid bitch with him. and he had the nerve to stand there and talk shit about you.” sukuna responds. 

you reach for the glass and place it in his hands, offering him a smile. 

“just drink the water to sober up a little bit. it’s late.” 

sukuna gives you a glare, as you let go of the glass, only for him to spill the entirety of it on you with his shaky hands. he barely registers that he did it – and you suppose that it’s really your fault for trusting him to hold the glass on his own – as you swing your arm around his torso and lead him towards his room. 

he flops onto the bed as you rummage through his drawers, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt for him as you turn back around. 

“sukuna. get up and change and you can sleep all you want.” you coax. 

he responds with an unintelligible noise – further muffled by the fact that he’s face down on the bed – as you reach for one of his arms and pull. he somewhat works with you, sitting up as he wobbles, and reaches for the tie around his neck and tosses it aside. 

his first struggle comes with the buttons. because he can’t seem to coordinate his fingers well enough to push the buttons through the holes – and obviously, with the short temper he has, gives up in all but three seconds. 

“help.” 

you roll your eyes as he stands up, leaning against you as you reach forward, and slowly unbutton down the length of the shirt. 

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” sukuna whispers. 

you ignore the comment as you pull the shirt down the length of his arms – exposing the tattoos that you’ve always wondered about, that peek out of the sleeves of his shirt or neck. you hand him the shirt, which he tosses aside. 

“too hot.” 

“okay, well. just put the pants on and then i’ll leave. i’ll turn around.” you respond. 

you turn around, twisting the rings on your fingers as you wait for him to finish, only to me met what could possibly be your worst nightmare. 

“y/n. wait, fuck. you have to help.” he whines. 

you turn around to look at him, only to find that he’s still wearing his pants. 

“what?” 

“the button. i can’t…” 

you feel your throat dry. 

“sukuna. i can’t…take your pants off for you. just try harder.” 

“just fucking help me.” 

you shake off the nervousness, as you bend down on your knees, trying to squint through the dark light to find the button. except before you can fully do it, sukuna reaches for your biceps and somewhat harshly pulls you up. 

“wh-” 

you look up to find him swallowing hard, before he talks. 

“it’s like you’re trying to make this difficult for me. don’t get on your fucking knees to do it.” sukuna responds. 

“how else am i supposed to see it?” 

sukuna doesn’t respond, as you shake your head and feel down the length of his pants, before you find the button. and surely enough, it’s hard to push but you get it after a second try, and turn around as sukuna switches the pants he’s wearing. 

and you almost make your sweet escape before he tangles his fingers around your wrist and pulls back. his fingers are fast on your waist as he turns you around, somewhat toppling your balance so you’re leaning against his chest – and stuck in his embrace. 

“stay.” he whispers.  

“you are so fucking drunk, sukuna.” 

“stay, please. i don’t want to sleep without you.” 

you shake your head. 

“my hoodie is wet. i have to change.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“are you wearing anything underneath? you know i wouldn’t mind either way.” sukuna whispers. 

“a tank top, but really. i have to go back to –” 

sukuna’s fingers are fast – since he apparently has enough coordination to help you with this – as he pulls it over your head, before setting his hands back around your waist. the way he’s looking down at you, eyes wide, makes you shiver as he leans forward, and presses his fingers against your collarbone. 

“you have a tattoo.” sukuna whispers. 

you laugh. 

“so do you.” 

and it makes your skin shiver, when sukuna snakes his hands underneath your shirt, leaning forward to press his lips against the inked skin on your shoulder, unable to contain your surprise. the tufts of his hair tickle your neck as you lean back, placing your hands on the sides of his face. 

“you’re drunk.” 

sukuna pauses. 

“is that the only reason you’re saying no?” 

you shake your head. 

“go to bed. you don’t even know what you’re fuckking saying right now.” 

“just stay with me.” 

sukuna releases his grasp, instead reaching for both of your hands and squeezing at your fingers. 

“please. don’t leave me alone.” 

“okay, okay. let’s just go sleep. we’ll talk in the morning.” 

--

you wake up to the most haunting sight known to man – sukuna hovering over you. 

“jesus fuck.” 

sukuna laughs as you press your palms into the sockets of your eyes, pushing as hard as can as you very quickly remember the events of last night – of the shivering feeling of sukuna’s lips on your neck and the horribly embarrassing moan you let out when he did. 

“oh god.” 

you open your eyes to find sukuna still hovering – an almost too excited grin painted on his face – his silver necklace hanging in the air.

“give me permission this time.” sukuna states. 

you widen your eyes. 

“i beg your pardon?” 

sukuna snakes one of his fingers under your waist, using the other to trace the outline of your tattoo again, as he leans closer to you, the distance dangerously close considering the events of last night. 

“give me permission.” sukuna asks. 

“you…” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“if it wasn’t clear, i think about you very often. irritatingly enough, i’m actually very fond of you. so much so, that i turned down that fucking barista from the coffee shop last night and went to that fucking party by myself..” 

“marie?” 

“is that her name?” sukuna asks. 

you bite down on your cheek. 

“i also gave someone a beating for you and got suspended from playing for two weeks, so just give me fucking permission now.” 

“you got what?” 

sukuna leans down, resting his chin against your bicep, as he eyes you again, before pressing a kiss to the skin. 

“give me permission.” 

“you’ve already kissed me twice.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“cmon. i need to hear it.” 

you shake your head, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your heart is pounding in your chest as you look down at him, brown eyes peering into yours 

“um. okay? ….yes. or yeah, whatever, i –” 

all you hear is an excited chuckle before his lips are against yours, hands almost rough around your neck as he pulls you up, till your straddling him in his lap, hands secured around his neck. and you can tell that he’s enjoying himself far too much – from the way he smiles into the kiss, before pressing three, four, and five kisses to your cheek. 

you fight the urge to smile at him fully as you lean forward, cupping his face in your hands and eyeing the cut across the bridge of his nose. 

“have i repaid your kindness yet?” you murmur. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning in. 

“no, i think i need a little bit more.”

--

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#seeingivywrites! #sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #roommate sukuna #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna fluff #roommate ryomen sukuna #ryomen #ryomen x you #ryomen x reader #ryomen x y/n #ryomen fluff #roommate ryomen #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x y/n #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen fluff #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

[nayziiz]

Stay | LN4

Summary: A new romantic prospect puts things into perspective in the best and worst ways possible.

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Cara)

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

CHAPTER 6

The music was louder than Cara expected when they entered the club. Maya immediately dragged Lando over to the bar to get drinks, and Max and Pietra went on a mission to find the private booth Maya had apparently arranged. Cara hung back for a minute and surveyed the scene. It wasn't her go-to place regardless of the country she found herself in. She sighed, defeated, knowing she would be spending most of her night being miserable.

Trying to make the best of it, Cara wandered over to the bar, deciding to get herself a drink. She squeezed through the crowd and managed to catch the bartender's attention, ordering a simple gin and tonic. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but notice Lando and Maya at the other end of the bar, Maya clinging onto Lando's arm as they laughed together.

Cara felt a pang of something she couldn't quite place—jealousy, maybe? She quickly dismissed the thought, reminding herself that she and Lando were just friends. Still, it was hard to ignore the growing discomfort she felt every time she saw them together.

“Here's your drink,” the bartender said, breaking her train of thought. She thanked him and took a sip, letting the cool liquid calm her nerves. She turned away from the bar and tried to spot Max and Pietra, hoping to find some solace in their company.

After a few minutes of searching, she finally saw Max waving her over from a corner booth. She weaved through the throng of people, grateful to finally sit down and escape the chaos for a bit. When she reached the booth, Pietra scooted over to make room for her.

“Never really been your scene, huh?” Max observed, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Not at all. But hey, at least I've got you guys to keep me company,” Cara shook her head, managing a small smile.

“Don't worry, we'll make sure you have a good time,” Pietra assured her with a pat on the shoulder.

“See, she looks so out of place,” Maya whined when she looked back at Cara. Lando followed her eyes and found Cara slowly moving towards Max and Pietra.

“Cut her some slack, she's trying,” Lando countered, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Why do you defend her so much?” Maya asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“Because she's one of my best friends, Maya.” Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words.

“It just feels like she's always around, and I don't get why you prioritise her so much.” Maya pouted, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. Lando took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Cara is important to me, just like Max, just like Pietra. We've been through a lot together. It's not about prioritising; it's about recognizing the people who genuinely care about you. You should give her a chance, get to know her better.” Lando continued. Maya rolled her eyes as she shifted closer to Lando, linking her arm through his.

“Baby, she's not like us, she doesn't fit in,”  Maya retorted, her tone dismissive.

“Like us? What does that even mean?” Lando asked, baffled by Maya's comment. “Alright, if you want to see me defensive, keep saying stuff like that.”

“Calm down, Lan. I'm just sharing my opinion,” Maya shrugged, trying to downplay the situation.

“No, you're being mean towards her, and that's not cool, Maya. She's only been nice to you,” Lando continued, his voice firm.

“Whatever, Lan. I just think you should focus more on us.” Maya rolled her eyes at him once more. Lando shook his head, feeling a growing frustration.

“It's not a competition, Maya. If you can't accept my friends, then this won't work.” Lando informed her. Maya stared at him, a mixture of anger and hurt in her eyes. “Give her a chance. You might actually like her if you got to know her.”

Maya didn't respond, instead turning her attention back to the bar. Lando sighed, knowing that this was far from over, but determined to stand by his friend.

Cara spotted Lando and Maya in an intense conversation from their reserved booth where she sat with Pietra and Max, who were also chatting away. She nudged Pietra, drawing her attention to the scene unfolding at the bar. Pietra turned to look at what Cara was indicating.

"Trouble in paradise?" Pietra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who knows?" Cara sighed again, feeling a pang of discomfort at the sight.

Max, picking up on the shift in conversation, turned his attention to the bar as well. "Looks like things are getting heated over there."

Cara nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, it does."

Pietra leaned in closer to Cara. "You okay?"

Cara forced a small smile. "Yeah, just...it's been a weird night."

Max gave her a sympathetic look. "Weird how?"

Cara hesitated, glancing at Lando and Maya again. "Just...Maya's been making things a bit uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in the way."

Pietra put a reassuring hand on Cara's arm. "You know you're not in the way, right? You're part of this group, and we all want you here."

Throughout the night as the drinks flowed, Cara loosened up and even ended up on the dancefloor. She danced with some girls for a while, and then the men started approaching her. Lando ground his teeth, his jaw locked, as he watched her dance against a new man every few minutes, a goofy smile plastered on her face as she did so.

He could feel the frustration bubbling inside him, his protective instincts flaring up with each passing moment. He knew Cara was just trying to have a good time and shake off the evening's earlier discomfort, but it didn't stop the surge of jealousy and concern he felt seeing her surrounded by strangers.

Maya noticed Lando's attention was securely on Cara and nothing else the second she went on the dancefloor, so in a huff, she left the club without saying goodbye to Lando. She felt a sting of betrayal and disappointment as she pushed through the throng of people, heading for the exit. Her dramatic departure went unnoticed by Lando, who was too engrossed in his moment with Cara to see anything else.

Lando was able to contain himself until he saw another new man approach Cara. The man slid in behind her, grabbing her hips as they swayed, and pressed himself right against her. She didn't move away from him, not even when his hands travelled around to her waist and later to her butt and thighs. Lando's blood was boiling as he stood and watched.

Max, noticing Lando's agitation, nudged him. "You okay, mate?"

Lando forced a tight smile. "Yeah, just... keeping an eye on things."

Max followed his gaze to where Cara was dancing, understanding dawning on his face. "She's just having fun, man. Let her enjoy herself."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just hard to watch."

Pietra, joining the conversation, leaned in. "Maybe you should go dance with her?"

Lando hesitated. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Pietra gave him an encouraging smile. "It might be exactly what she needs. Besides, it's clear you're not happy just standing here."

He walked through the crowd to where she was. The man dancing with her had disappeared, and Lando took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist from behind to see what her reaction would be. Instead of pushing his hands away, she rested her hands on his and intertwined her fingers with his. She pressed her body against his and swayed to the beat of the music. She rested the back of her head against his chest and turned her head slightly so she could just, ever so slightly, brush the tip of her icy nose against the skin of his neck.

“You know it's me, right?” Lando asked, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of amusement.

“Uh-huh,” she hummed, warm from both the alcohol and by Lando’s sudden presence behind her.

“I thought I'd join you,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light. “Looks like you're having fun.”

"I am. But I wouldn't mind a familiar face to dance with,” she admitted, a slight flush to her cheeks. 

“Well, here I am.” He grinned, relieved.

Lando and Cara continued to dance, their laughter and movements synchronised. The energy between them was palpable, drawing a few curious glances from onlookers but mostly just blending into the vibrant, carefree atmosphere of the dancefloor. Max and Pietra, seated in the booth, observed the scene with satisfaction.

“Looks like they’re finally letting their feelings take control,” Max commented, leaning back with a contented smile. Pietra nodded.

“It's about time. They both needed this.” Pietra agreed, hinting at all of the months and trips they spent watching Lando and Cara dance around each other and their feelings.

After their night at the club, the unexpected intimacy they shared on the dance floor lingering in their minds, Cara and Lando found themselves back at the apartment. The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of awkwardness and anticipation, as both of them tried to process the shift in their relationship. They had reversed roles for the evening: Lando took the couch, and Cara took his bed.

Cara lay in Lando's bed, surrounded by the scent of him that clung to the sheets and pillows. She turned over and buried her face into his pillow, breathing in deeply. His scent was comforting, but without him being close, it felt suffocating and incomplete. The bed felt enormous and empty without his presence. It was cold. Too cold. She pulled the blankets tighter around herself, trying to find some semblance of warmth, but it was no use. The events of the night replayed in her mind, especially the moment on the dance floor when she had felt so safe and connected in his arms.

In the living room, Lando tossed and turned on the couch. The cushions felt foreign and uncomfortable, a far cry from the familiarity of his bed. The eerie loneliness of the room gnawed at him, amplified by the silence of the early morning hours. He stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts consumed by the feel of touch and the way she had fit so perfectly in his arms. He couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that filled the room without her presence nearby.

Both of them were restless, struggling to find comfort in their new sleeping arrangements. The distance between them felt greater than the physical space that separated the couch from the bedroom. They were both acutely aware of each other's absence, and it weighed heavily on their hearts.

His bedroom door creaked open, and Cara stood leaning against the doorframe, watching Lando toss from one side of the couch to the other. The sight of him struggling to find comfort tugged at her heart. She could see the unease etched on his face, and it mirrored her own feelings of restlessness.

“Not comfortable?” she whispered as she approached him, halting his movements.

“Something like that,” he admitted, sitting back with a sigh. He looked despondent, the weight of the night’s events clearly still on his mind. Cara took a seat beside him, their shoulders brushing. “Why are you still up?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she confessed, pulling her sweatshirt’s sleeves over her hands. The fabric provided a small comfort against the cold, but it did nothing to quell the chill she felt inside.

Lando sat there, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate for freedom. His mind raced, a flurry of doubts and uncertainties clouding his judgement. Was this the right moment? Would she think he was being too forward? A myriad of questions bombarded his thoughts, threatening to drown out the faint whisper of courage that urged him forward.

Yet, amidst the chaos of his mind, there was a flicker of something different—an ember of spontaneity and daring that dared to defy his apprehensions. It was that tiny spark that propelled him forward, urging him to take a leap of faith into the unknown. For a brief moment, he hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, only to falter at the brink of uncertainty.

But then, with a surge of determination, he silenced his doubts and let his words spill forth into the space between them.

"Fancy a cuddle?" he suggested, the words hanging in the air like a delicate promise waiting to be fulfilled.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still, the world holding its breath as they stood on the precipice of possibility. Would she laugh it off, dismissing his offer with a gentle smile? Or would she embrace the spontaneity of the moment, taking his hand and diving headfirst into the unknown?

As the blush bloomed across her cheeks, Lando felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of vulnerability. He watched her, his heart pounding in his chest, wondering what her response would be. For a moment, she seemed to retreat within herself, her gaze flickering away from his as if grappling with an inner turmoil.

Then, just as he began to fear that his suggestion had been too bold, she surprised him. With a deep breath, she rose from her seat, her hand extended towards him in a silent invitation. It was a gesture filled with a quiet determination, a silent affirmation of trust and curiosity.

Lando felt a rush of relief flood through him as he accepted her hand, letting her lead him back to his room. The air between them crackled with anticipation, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the space around them.

Once inside, he closed the door behind them, the sound echoing softly in the silence. He watched as she made herself comfortable under the covers, her movements graceful yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes—a silent agreement to embrace the intimacy of the moment, to explore the connection that pulsed between them.

As Lando slipped out of his shirt, the fabric falling away to reveal the contours of his frame, it felt like shedding a layer of inhibition, a symbolic gesture of vulnerability and intimacy. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to, a small act of comfort and familiarity in the quiet moments before sleep claimed him.

With a silent grace, he joined her beneath the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning them in a world of their own making. And as he settled beside her, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him—a feeling of belonging that transcended words or explanations.

She welcomed him into her embrace with a natural ease, her body fitting against his like two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their perfect match. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath against his neck, a soothing rhythm that lulled him into a state of contentment.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close, relishing the sensation of her skin against his own. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes—an unspoken promise of protection and comfort, a silent declaration of love and devotion.

With her hand resting on her exposed stomach, he felt a surge of tenderness well up within him.

“Tell me something nobody else knows about you,” Lando quipped in an attempt to distract himself from the feeling of her body against his.

“I am absolutely terrible at skiing,” she whispered with a small chuckle.

“Is that why you didn’t come to Finland with us?” he realised.

“Partly, yeah,” she chuckled. “I did have to work, too.”

“I can teach you, you know, how to ski,” he offered.

“You’d be teaching a wall how to walk, not going to happen,” she countered.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a great teacher. Just look at how great you are now at karting,” Lando teased with a knowingly smile.

“Alright, fair enough,” she conceded, chuckling slightly at his cockiness.

The excitement of their banter dissipated into the tranquil embrace of the night as she nestled her head into the curve of his neck once more. Her breath, warm yet tinged with a hint of chill, ghosted across his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

Lando's fingers traced gentle patterns over her arm, the warmth of her touch a soothing balm against the tumultuous currents of his thoughts. He tried to coax himself into a state of sleep, to let the gentle rhythm of their breaths lull him into oblivion. But amidst the quiet darkness, the desire that simmered beneath the surface refused to be ignored.

With each passing moment, the urge to lean in and capture her lips in a tender kiss grew stronger, a silent plea that echoed in the depths of his soul. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window.

Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a wordless conversation that spoke volumes of unspoken desires and hidden truths. In that fleeting moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them suspended in the timeless embrace of the night.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confessed, his voice so soft it was barely a whisper.

“Okay,” she mimicked his tone and volume, her breath warm against his skin.

With a tender reverence, Lando cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin. He leaned in, closing the small distance between them, and gently pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and delicate, a gentle caress that spoke of all the unspoken words and feelings they had shared.

For the first time in a very long time, Lando felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach—the good kind that signalled something special, something real. It wasn’t a hungry or desperate kiss, but one filled with sweetness and tenderness, a reflection of how he felt about her.

When he finally pulled away, he watched her eyes remain closed, her face serene as she absorbed every moment of the lingering sensation. A smile curved her lips, and in that moment, Lando knew that this simple kiss had sealed something profound between them.

They spent the rest of the night wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy, gazing at each other with a mixture of wonder and contentment. The world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft glow of the moonlight and the quiet whispers of their shared breaths.

With tender curiosity, they traced invisible shapes into each other’s skin, their fingertips leaving trails of warmth and affection. Each touch was a silent declaration, a wordless conversation that spoke of their growing closeness and the trust they had built.

Her fingers played gently with his hair, twirling soft strands between her fingertips, while he marvelled at the delicate way she moved. In return, his hand found its way to her hair, smoothing it back from her face with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.

As the night wore on, their words grew softer, their touches slower, each moment drawing them deeper into the embrace of sleep. The rhythm of their breaths synchronised, creating a soothing lullaby that carried them towards slumber.

Finally, with their bodies entwined and hearts beating in unison, they drifted off to sleep, each wrapped in the comfort of the other’s presence. And as they slipped into dreams, the night held them close, a silent witness to the beginning of something beautiful and enduring.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #formula one #mclaren racing #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 x reader #ln4 x reader #lando x you #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 05 - Bonding]

Focus on Pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung

Warnings: a romantic picnic date in the forest, Tae is a nervous mess, he is actually a mess in general, so many insecurities and anxieties and signs of PTSD, please seriously someone hold this man, despite these warnings this chapter is so romantic and healing, Kook is the sweetest and most patient person ever, he is so fucking important to Tae's healing journey, they're really bonding <3, they're so cute :(, there is a moment where "smut" could be implied but i can't say more without spoiling the plot, there is no smut though, ah yes there is also talks about being queer and how amazing it is to be queer, i love being queer no joke <3, and i love them :(

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel like these warnings are a mess bahahah i didn't wanna spoiler too much, this chapter is definitely the "angstiest" though which says a lot about this story because it's still so fluffy and sweet despite the "angst"

Yoongi’s softened eyes meet yours as you open them to a new morning. His face lights up, an adoring smile washes over his features. He must have been gazing at you for a while because his cheeks are slightly flushed.

You retort the smile instantly with your pulse speeding up. His eyes are dark brown again, his hair a deep black, and yet, the memory of how they glowed purple last night is still so fresh to you. He looked so incredibly beautiful.

You reach out and caress his cheek, making him flutter his lashes in contentment. 

“Good morning, my beloved”, you speak softly.

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

He nods his head and scoots closer to kiss your forehead.

“I love you”, he whispers, making your heart race.

“I love you too.” 

“My love”, he sighs, giving you a gentle hug.

You snuggle into him, giggling quietly.

“Last night was so nice”, you say.

“It was incredible”, he agrees.

“I can’t stop repeating the way you looked.”

“Me neither, my love. Your magic is so beautiful.”

“Yours is just as beautiful.” 

He gives you a gentle squeeze, “my beloved love.”

You giggle, “Yoongi, oh god. You’re so cute.”

You crane your neck, kissing his lips. He smiles into the kiss, purring in happiness as his hand caresses your cheek. 

You break the kiss once you need to breathe, putting some distance between each other so you could gaze.

“I like you so, so much, Boongie.”

“I like you too, my princess.” 

You smile. He retorts it, holding your hand.

“Do you feel normal?” he asks.

“Yeah, just really happy and a little hungry. Why?” 

“Just so. I still can’t believe you let me cum inside.” 

“Yeah”, you agree with a giddy scrunch of your nose, “I don’t regret it.” 

“Me neither”, he squeezes your hand, “if something happens and you change your mind, I will support you. I just want you to know.”

You know what he insinuates, feeling so incredibly safe with him. 

“Thank you so much”, you kiss his hand, “I love you.”

“I love you too”, he answers you and rubs his tummy, “I’m hungry too.”

“You are? Oh poor Boongie”, you go to rub his tummy even if he giggles as a defence mechanism, “should we get brekky?” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Taehyung and Jungkook are up earlier than you because the guestroom is already empty when you pass it. Yoongi thinks that they are downstairs and so you continue your way to the kitchen.

Taehyung is sitting cross-legged on the floor, freeing cherries from their pits together with your grandfather. Next to them, your grandmother is kneading dough for a pie. Jungkook isn’t present in the room, but the door to the garden is open. They have the radio on, playing songs from a long passed time. 

“Good morning.” 

Their heads turn in sync with your greeting. Their voices overlap as they all greet you and Yoongi. You hug your grandmother and your hug your grandfather, then you kiss Taehyung on his lips and caress his soft cheek. He leans into the touch with sparkly puppy eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask no one in particular.

“I did”, Taehyung answers, “and you?” 

“We did.”

“We didn’t get to see you at all yesterday.” 

“I know, right? Yoongi and I practiced magic for almost the entire day and when we came back for dinner, you guys were still out, painting? Paps said that you were.”

One Day Prior

“Well then, I don’t wanna keep you from it. See you later, guys. I love you”, you say and send them flying kisses. You are below their window, carrying a picnic basket and a bright smile.

Taehyung and Jungkook catch the kisses you sent them, giggling just as you do.

“We love you too”, they say in unison, waving you goodbye as you continue your journey to the forest.

“She’s glowing today”, Taehyung says as he watches you skip along the path.

“I thought the same”, Jungkook says.

“Do you think that she will find Yoongi?” 

“I bet she will. But even if she won’t, she’ll have a good time. She’ll probably just look at plants and cry over small animals.” 

Taehyung laughs fondly. Jungkook does the same. 

“That is something she would do.” 

“Yeah right?” 

You disappear out of their sight as the forest swallows you. The two men shift their eyes back to the view of the forest before them. Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook and hugs his waist tighter.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy, by the way”, Jungkook speaks softly as his fingers play with Taehyung’s mindlessly. He has his left hand rested on the window sill and Jungkook took the chance.

“Because I am with you.”

“You’re a softie.” 

“I am. For you”, Taehyung kisses Jungkook’s neck gently, “my weakness.” 

Jungkook smiles fondly, “softie.”

Taehyung purrs, rubbing his cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder. He slips his hands from their intertwined fingers and runs them along his arms instead. Once he reaches his elbows, he changes his touch to his stomach instead, tracing the lines of his muscles with his fingertips. Goosebumps cover Jungkook’s skin instantly, soft purrs rumble in his chest. 

“Do you want to spend time with me today?” Taehyung asks in a whisper.

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Do you want to paint in the forest? Perhaps have a picnic as well?”

“A picnic? It sounds romantic.” 

“It is supposed to be romantic. We haven’t truly gone on a date ever since all of this calmed down.” 

“Right”, Jungkook agrees, “mhm, a picnic in the forest sounds nice.” 

“Really? Do you truly want to spend time with me?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“O-on a date?”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and presses a kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I am so happy to hear that”, he whispers and breaks away from Jungkook, “I am calling dips on the bathroom.” 

Jungkook chuckles, “alright, do your thing.” 

Taehyung keeps the bedroom door open, singing to himself on his way to the bathroom. 

Jungkook tidies the room a little. He makes the bed, puts away yesterday’s clothing and cleans the clutter on the bedside tables. He takes the empty glasses of water and makes his way downstairs with a melody on his lips. The shower runs and Taehyung sings happily. 

The downstairs is empty, but Jungkook doesn’t worry. He knows where you and Yoongi are and your grandparents are definitely in the garden. Jungkook thinks that it is so lovely that you got your passion for gardening from them. 

Jungkook turns on the radio and begins making the picnic. He eats a slice of raspberry pie for strength and sips from his cup of coffee every now and then. Food tastes so good when it actually nourishes the body. Jungkook really loves it. 

Taehyung comes downstairs when Jungkook has already finished two dishes. 

“You tidied the bedroom.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung. He is wearing beige dress pants and a white linen shirt with strings in the front to close the collar. He has his sleeves down and golden rings on his fingers. His dark hair is styled. 

“I did”, Jungkook confirms.

“Are you making breakfast?” Taehyung asks and comes behind him to hug his waist. 

“No. I’m preparing the picnic. I had raspberry pie for breakfast. I saved you a slice as well.”

“I see, thank you”, Taehyung says, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Jungkook’s neck.

“Tae, behave”, Jungkook warns and wiggles out of the hug gently. 

“I am. I just wanted to smell you”, Taehyung defends himself.

Jungkook scoffs in amusement, placing the cooking towel aside.

“I’m washing up now. Take out the bread once the timer’s done and check on the potatoes. Don’t touch anything you have no idea how to cook.” 

“You are mean”, Taehyung calls after him. 

Jungkook chuckles. The door closes moments later.

Taehyung looks around the kitchen. Jungkook prepared sandwiches with various fillings, as well as rice rolls with vegetables from the garden. He also has potatoes for a salad boiling happily and seems to bake small baguettes in the oven. 

Taehyung straightens up after looking into the oven, scratching his head in thinking. He has no idea what he could contribute to the picnic. He can’t cook and the one thing he can make - sandwiches – Jungkook already made. 

Perhaps. Taehyung’s eyes light up. Perhaps he could try his luck with pancakes again. He must be better at them these days. He just must. 

With this glorious plan in mind, Taehyung begins his contribution to the picnic.

Jungkook hurries downstairs.

“What’s burning?” he asks worriedly.

Taehyung has his sleeves rolled up by now and his hair dishevelled just a little.

“Don’t look.”

“Tae, what did you do?”

“Don’t come here.”

Jungkook reaches his side, looking at the stack of burned pancakes. He looks at them with big eyes.

“How can you burn them so bad?” he gasps.

“I swear I did everything right. I worked so diligently on getting them golden”, Taehyung says and pouts, “I’m sorry. I know you told me not to do anything, but I still did.” 

Jungkook laughs, patting his butt gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t apologise. At least you tried. And look, you made five nice ones. That’s an improvement.”

Taehyung’s eyes light up, “that’s right. I did manage to make five nice ones.” 

“Good job, Tae”, Jungkook praises and pats his butt, “also, you took out the bread and potatoes at the right time.”

“I even cut them. Can you see?” 

“I can. Good job. They’re cut very nicely.”

Taehyung scrunches his nose.

“Thank you so much.”

“Now can you get me the salt and pepper? We need to marinate this salad. It’s gonna be so good.” 

“Yes, of course. I can get you spices”, Taehyung says and begins working with sparkly eyes. 

Jungkook studies him. He looks so happy and content now that he can be helpful. Jungkook smiles. He likes seeing Taehyung like this. 

“Should I put them in already?” 

“Yes, go careful. We don’t want it to be too salty.”

Taehyung goes careful, sticking out his tongue in concentration. He sprinkles salt over the potatoes, looking at Jungkook once his fingers are empty.

“Was that good?”

“That was perfect.”

Taehyung’s eyes sparkle. 

“Go ahead and put the pepper in it as well, I’m getting the stuff for the sauce.”

Taehyung sings to the radio as he works. Jungkook listens to him with warmth in his chest. He is always the one others take care of, others baby and coddle and try to help. And while Jungkook likes being coddled, he also sometimes really needs to feel as if he could guide someone, as if he is the one being needed. He really likes what he has going on with Taehyung right now. 

He returns with his hands full, looking into the salad.

“And?” Taehyung asks with expectant eyes.

“Looks good. You’ve done so well”, Jungkook praises.

“Thank you, wow”, Taehyung rests his head against Jungkook’s arm.

“Do you want to do something else?”

“Yes. I want to.”

“Why don’t you make a pretty charcuterie box? I’m sure someone like you can make pretty boxes.”

“Yes, oh I love charcuterie boards. Why a box?”

“So we can take it with us.”

“I see. I understand. I am going to make it very prettily. Just you wait, I will work very hard on it.”

“I’m sure you will.”

The two men share lovely silence like this. Jungkook finishes the potato salad and makes little wraps with a savoury filling, while Taehyung works hard on perfecting the charcuterie box. Jungkook also cuts up some fruits and puts grandma’s pie into a container, while Taehyung still works on his box. And as Jungkook fills the picnic basket with the food, cutlery and plates, Taehyung still works on his box. 

Jungkook allows him this time, eventhough he feels stressed about it. He is someone who likes to move fast, work quickly and finish a lot in little time. He would have finished this box ages ago, but he knows not to comment on it. Taehyung needs it. Jungkook knows way better than one might assume, how important such small moments of quiet are to a traumatised mind. 

So he lets Taehyung work and busies himself with cleaning instead. Taehyung doesn’t notice until Jungkook wipes the counter a little to his right. He lifts his head, looking around the room with big eyes.

“Am I taking too long?”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

“I am sorry, I am almost finished. I, I am trying to get all the details right.”

“It’s okay, take your time. We still have all day”, Jungkook assures him with a chaste kiss to his jawline, “I’m gonna pop into the garden real quick and ask grandma if they have painting supplies. Take your time, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, lowering it shyly afterwards.

“Take your time, okay? You’re doing well.”

Taehyung has finished his charcuterie box, as well as finished packing the basket when Jungkook comes back inside with your grandmother. They are talking about painting as she shows him what they could take for their picnic. Once all supplies are packed, they leave the cottage to finally go on their forest adventure. Jungkook carries everything because he finished putting on his shoes sooner than Taehyung. The latter jogs so he could open the garden door. 

“Thank you”, Jungkook says and enters the forest path. 

Taehyung closes the door, then does another light jog to catch up with Jungkook.

“Should I help you?” he offers, trying to reach for the heavy picnic basket.

“It’s okay, I can manage”, Jungkook says as he carries it with ease. It doesn’t feel heavy to him at all.

“At least let me carry the blanket.”

“It’s fine, seriously.” 

“I feel so useless now.”

Jungkook ogles him and gives up with a sigh.

“Actually, maybe you could carry the blanket. It’s kinda heavy.”

“Of course”, Taehyung says and takes it happily. He throws it over his shoulder, giving Jungkook a shy grin. One Jungkook retorts. 

Their adventure takes them past the lake you and Yoongi are spending time together at. The sound of someone cutting wood fills the air. 

“So this is where she went”, Taehyung says. 

“I guess so, yeah”, Jungkook agrees.

The two men slow down and linger in hiding. Yoongi is cutting wood while you are on the blanket reading a book. You and he seem peaceful and truly lost in your own little world.

“Should we join them?” 

“No, let’s give them their privacy.” 

“Very well. Then I want to walk along this path”, Taehyung says and takes Jungkook’s hand to lead him away. 

Jungkook looks at their intertwined hands, then at Taehyung’s face. The latter seemed content and as if the sudden skinship felt normal to him. 

“The sunlight looks especially beautiful on this path, wouldn’t you agree?” Taehyung asks, looking at Jungkook. He flusters and pulls his hand away, “forgive me.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong”, Jungkook assures him in a soft voice. 

Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly and reaches for Jungkook’s hand again. Carefully. Just a brush of his fingers to test the waters. Pull away. Cheeks flush. Jungkook reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Taehyung, making the decision for him. 

Taehyung meets his eyes and giggles. 

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out and smiles fondly. He never imagined Taehyung to be so timid, but he likes that he is. Normally, Jungkook is always the one who everyone wants to baby and call shy. So it is a very nice and welcome change to feel as if he could be the one babying someone. 

He pulls Taehyung just a little closer, “you said the sunlight looks especially nice here?”

“Yes, I did. At least I think it does”, Taehyung says and flusters again, “ah please forgive me”, he gets out, breaking away to hide his face in his hands and giggles. 

“What’s the matter?” Jungkook asks in a chuckle, nudging his arm playfully, “why are you so shy?”

“You make me shy”, Taehyung says and glances at Jungkook, “stop it, please.”

“Why? I’m not even doing anything”, Jungkook complains in laughter, stumbling slightly when Taehyung pushes at his arm softly. 

“Yes, you do. You look at me.”

“Oh? I’m sorry then, it won’t happen again”, Jungkook teases and turns his head away. 

Taehyung rounds him, but Jungkook turns his head away again. 

“No”, Taehyung laughs and rounds Jungkook again only for the latter to turn his head away. 

Taehyung whines and grasps for Jungkook, “don’t do that”, he is laughing. 

Jungkook laughs as well, feeling happy when he can tease Taehyung one more time by turning his head away as the latter tries to get his eye contact. 

“I didn’t mean it”, Taehyung says and cups Jungkook’s face. They fight each other gently. Jungkook could easily win in this realm, but he lets Taehyung win instead, laughing heartily at his adorable attempts to steal a glance. 

Taehyung pulls him closer and rubs his nose against Jungkook’s. Jungkook keeps his eyes closed on purpose.

“Look at me, please”, Taehyung begs in a whisper as his fingers grasp Jungkook’s face almost desperately.

Jungkook opens his eyes. 

Taehyung melts in giddiness instantly, scrunching his nose. He flutters his lashes prettily, letting out a shy giggle.

Jungkook chuckles softly and steals a kiss. 

“You’re adorable right now”, he says, sliding his hand together with Taehyung’s and tugging softly, “come on, the basket’s getting heavy.”

Taehyung follows him with wobbly knees, hugging his arm. He rests his head against Jungkook’s shoulder, twisting the fabric of his shirt mindlessly. He hasn’t felt this way about a man in decades. He feels so entirely silly for it because in the grand scheme of endless time, he has only been with Jungkook for a very short time. Four months ever since Namjoon was defeated to be exact. The two men didn’t have enough time yet to truly get to know each other. Taehyung shouldn’t feel so strongly for him already, but he cannot help himself. Courting Jungkook makes Taehyung feel like a giddy, young queer again. He hasn’t felt this way in forever.

He keeps these thoughts to himself however because he fears to be too much. That is why he shied away from holding his hand or why he didn’t dare to call it a date. Yes, Jungkook is very openly and proudly bisexual, but Taehyung doesn’t want to be the reason why Jungkook could question it in a negative way. Taehyung truly feels that he could make him question it. Oh, he feels so insecure lately. As if he was a desperate, pitiful beggar asking for something he wasn’t worthy of. 

Taehyung lifts his head from Jungkook’s shoulder, deepening the hand holding. He gulps. They begin again. The painful thoughts. They have been haunting him for months. They keep him up at night and steal his desire to be creative. The once beautiful sunlight is invisible to him right now. Jungkook’s hand in his’ feels like an act of pity. Taehyung wants to gulp, but can’t because his throat is beginning to constrict. 

“Look. What do you think of this spot?” Jungkook asks and slows down on a small clearing. A patch of grass is stretching its green arms to the sunlight. Small forest flowers break up the lush green in specks of white and yellow. The spot is romantic and intimate. Jungkook knows that Taehyung will like it, so he gets worried when the latter doesn’t answer him.

He looks at him. Taehyung is staring into nothingness with glassy eyes. He is at the same time breathing heavily and not breathing at all.

“Tae?” Jungkook tries, giving his hand a gentle shake.

Taehyung doesn’t react, so Jungkook tries again.

“Taehyung?” he says a little louder.

When Taehyung doesn’t react again, he places himself in front of him and cups his cheeks.

“Taehyung, hey.”

Taehyung flinches, blinking his eyes a few times before they finally focus on Jungkook.

“I lost you for a moment. Are you okay?” 

Taehyung grows embarrassed instantly, “please forgive me”, he whispers, trying to lower his head, but Jungkook doesn’t let him.

“Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong”, he assures him and brushes his thumb over his cheeks, “what’s the matter? Where did you go when I lost you?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“You can’t say yet?”

He nods his head.

“Is it too painful?” 

He hesitates, but nods his head in the end.

“I understand. Well, I’m glad that you’re back again and if you want to, you can talk to me.” 

Taehyung nods his head and leans into Jungkook’s touch. He closes his eyes and sighs in relief.

“Now. What do you think of this spot? I think it’s very romantic”, Jungkook asks in order to take his mind off of whatever haunted him before. 

Taehyung peels his eyes open and looks around for a bit. His face gains a happy glow as more and more seconds pass and soon, he carries an honest smile on his lips. 

“I love this spot. It is so romantic”, he says.

“Yeah, right? Let’s set up our picnic here. Come on, teamwork. we’ll put down the blanket together.”

“Yes, alright”, Taehyung says with newly found joy in his voice. 

The two men work perfectly together to prepare the picnic. They lay out the blanket, put down a few pillows and spread out the containers of food. Jungkook hands them to him and Taehyung opens the lids. It is truly perfect teamwork and only a few moments later, the picnic is set up. 

Jungkook and Taehyung are facing each other because it naturally happened this way. Obviously, both men have their shoes off. Jungkook leans back on his hands and stretches out his legs.

“Ah”, he sighs contently, “that’s life. Picnics in nature are the best.” 

He closes his eyes and tilts his face up into the sun. The light feels warm on his skin, filling him with a sense of freedom. He missed the sunlight so much. In the real world, he can’t stay in it for too long because his sensitive eyes would begin aching way too much. Jungkook really treasures the sunny moments here.

Taehyung watches him with a racing heart. Every single inch of his face is perfect. His jawline, his chin, his lips, his nose and forehead. The way his eyes look closed and how his cheeks are so soft. Because he is human in this world, Jungkook’s skin finally looks alive again. It is golden in the sunlight. Taehyung doesn’t exaggerate. He truly thinks that his skin looks as if made out of pure gold. 

Taehyung reaches for his paper and gouache paints and begins sketching what he sees. Taehyung imagines everything in shapes of different colours when he paints. Humans, animals, nature and architecture are basically all just made up of different shapes in different colours to him, which he will replicate in his art until it shows what he sees. Taehyung thinks that Jungkook’s shapes are the most beautiful shapes he has seen in a man’s face in a long time. 

Jungkook moves out of the position when he doesn’t hear Taehyung after a few moments. Worry is prominent in his eyes, he must have thought Taehyung was lost in painful thoughts again.

“What are you doing?” he asks him, studying him.

Taehyung lifts his head and widens his eyes.

“Please don’t move. I am not done yet.”

“Are you drawing me?”

“Yes, please move back to how you were before.”

Jungkook chuckles and does as he is told.

“Like this?”

“No, not like this. Tilt it further.”

Jungkook fixes his head.

“Like this?” 

“No, wait”, Taehyung says and gets on his knees so he could reach for Jungkook’s head. He fixes his position in his stead, oblivious to Jungkook’s eyes on him until he goes to fix the strands of hair on his forehead. Jungkook is smiling at him, letting his pretty eyes run over his face. There is fond playfulness sparkling in them.

Taehyung flusters, pulling his fingers away. 

“Forgive me. I didn’t ask for permission to touch”, he whispers, feeling mesmerised by Jungkook’s eyes.

Jungkook stays quiet, which makes Taehyung nervous.

“I am sorry”, he says, “really.”

Jungkook reaches up and brushes the back of his hand over Taehyung’s chin.

“You’re so handsome”, he whispers.

“What?” Taehyung breathes, feeling lightheaded.

“You’re so handsome”, Jungkook says and smiles, tracing his thumb over Taehyung’s lips.

They part. His eyes lower. His cheeks flush.

“Oh god”, Taehyung presses out and falls back with his face hidden in his hands, “please stop it.”

“Why? You’re normally not that shy.”

“Because you aren’t like this normally.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying. I’m just as I always am.” 

“No you are not, you are looking at me.”

“Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook laughs and closes the distance between them to overwhelm Taehyung. He pushes him to his back, grabbing his wrists to pin them above his head. 

“Ah”, Taehyung moans softly, having to gasp for air afterwards. 

Jungkook is pinning him down, staring so deeply into his eyes, Taehyung feels dizzy. 

“Mhm? Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook whispers in a slight rasp. 

“I, I”, Taehyung stutters, but can’t think of anything to say.

Jungkook chuckles and places a kiss on Taehyung’s jawline. The latter arches his back and sighs, parting his legs for something which never comes. 

“You’re so cute, Tae”, Jungkook whispers and breaks away to return to the pose.

Taehyung needs a few moments to function again. He lies still on the blanket, staring at the sky with a racing heart. The spot Jungkook kissed is tingling uncontrollably, his stomach is spilling over with butterflies. He is done for, isn’t he? 

In the past, Taehyung was the one to fluster Jungkook, to steal his breath and make him malfunction with just a touch. Not anymore, not when true feelings are involved. Nothing but a look is already enough to mess up his thoughts, a touch truly renders him useless. Taehyung is so done for.

“Are you going to paint me?” Jungkook asks. 

“Forgive me, I”, Taehyung sits up and tries to fix his hair. His fingers shake a little as he reaches for his brush, “ye-yes I am. Please uhm, please hold still.”

Jungkook chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he says and closes his eyes.

They spent quiet like this, but it is never truly silent. The song of birds, the humming of insects and the rushing of the wind keeps them company. Taehyung’s brush makes a faint sound as he guides it over the paper. It doesn’t take him long to finish his sketch. He has been painting for more than eight hundred years after all.

“You are allowed to move again.”

“Yeah? Did I turn out well?” Jungkook asks and tries to look.

“No peeking”, Taehyung says and moves the paper away, “I want to finish it first.”

“Alright, if you say so”, Jungkook chuckles and sits back. He shifts his eyes to the picnic, “you don’t mind if I start eating, do you?”

“No, go ahead.” 

“Mhhm nice. Oh all of that looks so yummy. Mhm what should I take first? Uh gimbap”, Jungkook mumbles to himself as he fills his plate with a variety of foods.

Once his plate is finished, he prepares one for Taehyung as well. He places it next to him, laughing when he moves the paper away panickedly.

“I wasn’t tryna peek, just made you food.”

“Oh. Thank you”, Taehyung says with a blush. 

“Enjoy”, Jungkook says and pecks his pink cheek, before sitting back to begin eating. 

He does so with his eyes scanning over the scenic view. The sunlight breaks through the leaf canopy perfectly so that the sun rays are visible. There are small bugs and butterflies fluttering in the lights. 

“I think I wanna paint the forest”, Jungkook says and busies himself by setting up his painting station. He makes breaks for snacking every now and then.

“The forest is a wonderful motive”, Taehyung murmurs with his mouth stuffed with food. He truly enjoys the taste. Jungkook is a very talented cook.

“Yeah, I agree. Have you been painting for long?” 

“Yes, all my life. Even when I was still human, I painted in my spare time.”

“Damn, then you’ve been painting for forever.”

“I truly enjoy it. Painting, or art in general, brings me great peace of mind. I find myself truly zone out whenever I create art.”

“I get that. My brain sorta shuts off too when I paint.”

“So you paint as well?”

“I do, yeah. Just not as passionately as you.”

“I see. Did you paint as a human as well?” 

“No, not really. I was more of a drawing kinda guy back then. I always loved the sketches I did, but hated colouring them. I honestly still do. I prefer to draw than to paint.” 

“I see. I really love drawing as well, but I prefer painting.”

“It suits you.”

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asks, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Just that painting suits you”, he smiles, “it’s a compliment.”

“Oh”, he flusters, looking away, “thank you.”

Jungkook feels warm fondness in his chest for Taehyung. He is genuinely so cute when he flusters.

“Okay, idea. What are your top five art forms?” he asks because he wants to keep talking to him.

“My top five art forms?” 

“Yes, painting, sculpting, stuff like that. What are your top five? They don’t have to be in order, just what do you love the most?” 

“No one ever asked me that before.”

“I thought it could be fun. Normal date questions can be so boring.”

Taehyung flusters. A date. He is truly on a date. He almost forgets about his answer because of how giddy he feels.

“Well then, uhm”, he begins, “I would say that painting is my most favourite, I enjoy pottery a great deal and the entire process of painting the pieces. I would also consider embroidery to be one of my favourites.”

“Embroidery?”

“Yes, I like it.”

“That’s so cool. I never tried embroidery before, but I think it’s such an impressive art skill.”

Taehyung studies Jungkook’s features. Jungkook doesn’t hate him, does he? He is actually interested in him. Taehyung doesn’t need to feel like a pitiful beggar because there is nothing he needs to beg for with Jungkook. He gives him attention and interest willingly. Taehyung cannot put his feelings into words yet, but what Jungkook is doing right now feels healing to Taehyung. 

“It is so much fun. I really love it”, Taehyung says and takes a deep breath. The air filling his lungs feels so good all of a sudden. 

“You have to show me how to do it one day. I would love to learn.”

“Yes. Yes, I can teach you”, Taehyung says, bouncing on the spot excitedly. 

Jungkook grins, “awesome. I’ll take you up on your offer then. Now back to the question, give me two more.”

Jungkook is so interested in him. Holy fuck, Taehyung feels like finally diving up for air after an endless battle under water. He talks with his heart racing addictingly in his chest.

“I would also say that I enjoy writing poetry a great deal and my fifth thing would be” he thinks for a moment, “does music count?”

“Of course it does.”

“Then I would say that I truly enjoy music. Making it or writing it. I love it.”

“These are good answers. They fit you all so well.”

Taehyung blushes. They fit him. His favourite art fits him. 

“Thank you”, he whispers with a racing pulse. This is what being human is about. Racing heartbeats because of love.

“Now ask me a question. Let’s make a game out of it. We take turns asking questions.”

“Oh, I love this idea. I shall think of a question.”

“Don’t be shy. Every question is allowed. Even dirty ones.”

Taehyung blushes, “don’t say that.”

Jungkook laughs.

Taehyung takes in the sound and puts it into his memory drawer of favourite things. He studies Jungkook for a moment. He wants to get the first question right. Jungkook’s first question was so perfect that Taehyung doesn’t want to disappoint. Jungkook bites off from his sandwich. Food! Taehyung has the first question!

“Have you been cooking for long?” 

“Yes, I liked to occasionally cook as a human, then had to give it up for a while because of my curse, but when I moved in with Seokjin and Hoseok joined us, I picked it up again.”

“That is so wonderful. I never learned how to cook.”

“I can teach you.”

“Oh? Oh no”, Taehyung shakes his head and laughs, “it’s rotten work.”

“Not to me.” 

Taehyung stops laughing. He meets Jungkook’s eyes. The latter smiles sweetly.

“Not to me it’s not. I can teach you”, he says. 

Something inside Taehyung snaps. Or shifts into its rightful place. Whatever the case, Taehyung cannot take the feelings in his chest and so he acts. 

He closes the distance between him and Jungkook, grasping his face to pull him into a kiss. A kiss so passionate he feels tears well up in his eyes.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out in surprise, closing his eyes after a few moments of baffled blinking. 

He laughs into the kiss, combing his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. The kiss is so passionate. So desperate. Filled with such urgent pleas. Jungkook soon feels his composure falter. He was never kissed like this before. He was kissed with passion, with desire, with desperation, with warm love and adoration, but he was never kissed with such suffocating urgency before. He was never kissed as if it was the only remedy to an ache unknown, as if his lips carried the only spark of life a dying flame clings to.

When Taehyung breaks the kiss, Jungkook feels just a little out of it. Not in a sexual way, but in a deeply emotional way. His lips still taste his kiss, his scalp still feels the paths his fingers took. 

“Can I be yours?” Taehyung whispers shakily, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s.

“Tae…”

“Please. I, I know I am rushing it. I know that I am too much and that I am not easiest to like, but-”

Jungkook places his finger against Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung exhales shakily.

“Tae, why are you asking this? You’re already mine.”

“I am?” 

Jungkook nods his head, breaking away from him just so he can cup his cheek. Taehyung gazes up at him, holding his breath. The adoration in Jungkook’s eyes is honest and goes so very deep.

“You’ve been mine for months. Do you think that I see this as a casual fling?”

“I don’t know”, Taehyung whispers.

“Well, I don’t. I don’t do flings, I do it seriously or I don’t do it at all. You’ve been mine for months now.” 

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and overwhelmed by his feelings, he falls around Jungkook’s neck in a tight hug.

Jungkook chuckles fondly, hugging him back.

“I was so worried.”

“I could tell. Don’t be anymore, I want this to be serious just as much as you do.”

Taehyung lets out a relieved laugh and buries his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He sobs softly afterwards, grabbing a bundle of his hair to hold it for support. He needs it. He would be lost without it.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” Jungkook asks worriedly.

“I haven’t felt like this for a man in decades. I feel so young again. So, so…so…I feel so alive.” 

“You’re so sweet, Tae. I feel really happy as well.” 

Taehyung sits back on his feet, taking Jungkook’s hands. His glassy eyes never leave his’, racing between them in adoring obsession.

“I love being queer when I can feel this way.”

“You do?”

Taehyung nods his head, “I witnessed many phases of humanity and how it handled us. Most weren’t good. But the way you make me feel makes me so happy to be who I am.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. Oh yes, I am so happy. I am queer”, he spills tears, smiling, “I am queer and I am free and I, I”, he falters, furrowing his brows as his lower lip trembles.

“Go on”, Jungkook encourages him in a whisper, thumb caressing his knuckles slowly.

“I am in love with you. I am so deeply in love with you that I could fill galaxies with it. This isn’t desire. I could go without sleeping with you if that is what you asked. I could miss out on sex. I could. I, I truly could be-because what makes me happiest is being with you.”

Taehyung fights for air before he continues.

“You have no idea what this means. I live for sex, I enjoy it, I desire it, I need it. But if we never made love again, I wouldn’t miss it because I could still be with you. I love you so much that I finally know what it is to love.” 

Silence. Taehyung is panting for air. Jungkook studies his face.

“God Tae”, he says “you really held back on a lot, didn’t you?”

Taehyung shies away. His chest tightens. He was too much. Came off as overbearing and as if he wanted to bury Jungkook in love. 

“I’m sorry”, he chokes out.

“No, god I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a negative way. I’m happy that you are letting it out. I wanna be someone you can share your feelings with safely”, Jungkook says and tilts his head up so their eyes reconnect, “okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, feeling the warmth return to his chest. 

“I’m happy to be queer as well, Tae. I grew up in a very conservative, queerphobic time, so to be surrounded by people like us and to have the opportunity to love freely, makes me so happy to be queer.” 

Taehyung agrees with a nod of his head. 

“And I love spending time with you as well. You are cute and gentle and you have a good heart. I know you’re older than me, but I want to protect you and take care of you. It makes my heart race and I know it’s because I’m falling in love with you, I can feel that I am.” 

“You do? You really do?” 

“I do”, Jungkook smiles, “I don’t lie about love. If I say something, I mean it.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and hugs him, “I’m so happy.”

The two men hug for quite a while. They settle back in their places after the hug, but sit a lot closer together. Their knees are touching at all times, sometimes Taehyung or Jungkook reaches over to caress the other’s leg. Taehyung can’t stop sneaking glances at Jungkook and neither can the latter. It feels good to know that the other felt the same.

“Were you in a queer relationship before our poly family?” Taehyung asks and picks his paint brush back up. He can barely paint. He is so giddy that his hand is shaking in a positive way.

“No”, Jungkook shakes his head, “the only relationship I had before our poly family was with my human sweetheart. Otherwise, I wasn’t in any kind of relationship before our poly family. I tried not to kill people by staying away from them.” 

“I see. I am sorry. Life must be so lonely as a Ripper or Glutton.” 

“It really fucking is”, Jungkook says and despite his words, smiles at Taehyung, “but I’m not lonely anymore. I have our family. My past was sad, but my present isn’t anymore.” 

Taehyung smiles, “that is so good to hear. You deserve it.” 

“Thanks. Yeah”, Jungkook says and looks at his painting. He looks just a little shy. Shy, but also content. 

Taehyung studies his face for a little while, enjoying the way his heart races in his chest. He reaches out and caresses his leg. 

“So you didn’t even try anything with Hoseok or Seokjin?” he asks.

Jungkook lowers his paint brush, looking at the trees as he thinks. 

“Not really? Not actual sex at least. I was too out of control, I would have just ended up ripping their heads off.”

“I see. How terrible.”

Jungkook agrees with a nod of his head.

“We did cuddle a lot, but that��s not queer, that’s just being really good friends.”

“Of course. Good friends can cuddle just as well as partners can.”

“Exactly”, Jungkook smiles fondly, “I love them both so much. They saved me. I think I would have killed myself eventually if I had never met them.” 

Taehyung furrows his brows. Jungkook meets his worried eyes. He touches the side of his neck awkwardly.

“I know, heavy stuff. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise. Please don’t ever apologise for that”, Taehyung insists, shaking his head, “I understand. You had no support system, killed against your will and had to cope with it alone. Of course your situation drove you to consider suicide. I am so happy that you held out for as long as you did, so you could meet them. This world would have been a sad one without you in it. You are such a strong person, you truly are.”

Jungkook lowers his eyes, touching his chest.

“Well fuck, nobody ever called me a strong person for this. It took so much strength to keep going, so uhm, yeah. Thanks. Seriously, thanks.”

Taehyung holds Jungkook’s hand gently.

“I was truthful”, he whispers.

“I know”, Jungkook whispers as well, lifting his eyes.

Taehyung gazes at him, giving him a shy smile the moment their eyes meet. Jungkook leans in to place a soft kiss on Taehyung’s lips. The latter receives it with a fluttering heart. Jungkook pulls back afterwards, giving him a grin. He picks his paintbrush back up and continues painting. 

Taehyung looks at him for just a second longer before continuing his painting as well. 

“So who was your first ever queer experience?”

“Yoongi.”

“Indeed?” 

“Yeah. God, it’s so embarrassing to think about because I was so out of control back then”, Jungkook says as he has to laugh.

“Really? Tell me about it”, Taehyung snickers as well.

“God, it’s so embarrassing. We didn’t even try a lot. He just touched my cock and I already spiralled. I called him a fucker and tried to rip his jugular out.”

“Oh heavens.”

“Yeah, he had to use force to pin me down and then used his compulsion to calm me down. I kept snapping at him and growling like a fucking idiot. I was such a mess back then”, Jungkook says and laughs.

Taehyung joins him, staring at his lips the entire time.

“That does indeed sound like a very wild time.”

“It was. It really was. God”, Jungkook snorts in amusement, “I felt so bad afterwards and kept crying and beating myself up about it, but Yoongi stayed calm and comforted me. That’s why I can laugh about it these days. It could have become another bad memory, but I look back at it fondly.”

“Of course. It shows how far you have come.”

Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes in surprise. He understands.

“Exactly. Yeah, that’s right”, he breathes.

Taehyung smiles shyly, lowering his eyes at his painting. He feels giddy when Jungkook looks at him. He really does.

Jungkook studies his face for a few more moments. He starts to understand what Taehyung means. He hasn’t really felt this way about another man ever and it is a very good feeling. He feels really young and giddy this way. 

“Did you always know that you weren’t hetero?” Taehyung asks.

“Mhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so”, Jungkook says, looking at the trees as he thinks, “I honestly felt really happy in my heterosexuality when I was human and I also didn’t really consider other men as attractive. Of course I could see that some were handsome, but I wasn’t attracted to them.” 

“I see. So you discovered yourself when you were already turned.”

“I did, yeah. And you? You told me once that you first thought that you were just gay.”

“I told you that?”

“Yeah, in the car. After we hate fucked.”

Taehyung laughs, Jungkook does as well.

“You remember this all this time?” 

“Of course I do.”

“Oh”, Taehyung says and lowers his eyes. 

Jungkook watches him with growing worry in his chest. He keeps making himself small with each confirmation that Jungkook feels the same. As if he didn’t want to believe that he was worthy of affection. 

“Is it my turn to ask you a question?” Jungkook asks him.

Taehyung nods his head, still staring at his hands.

“What troubles you lately?” 

Taehyung looks up in shock.

“This is your question?” 

Jungkook nods his head. 

Taehyung looks away. He stays silent for a long time, losing himself deep in his thoughts. What isn’t troubling him? How does he put something into words which he doesn’t understand either? He can’t find an answer in the end.

“Can you please ask something else?” 

“That’s okay, I can do that”, Jungkook assures him, “how many queer relationships were you in before our poly family?” 

Taehyung relaxes again.

“Serious or casual?” 

“Both.”

“Oh heavens, casual way too many to count. I am quite frankly, such a whore.”

Jungkook laughs, Taehyung does as well.

“As for serious, I would say that I had four serious relationships before our poly family.”

“Four you say? Are they still alive?”

“No, they were all human. I loved them all very much. Their loss ached very deeply.”

“I can imagine. I’m so sorry, Tae.”

“I have healed from it”, he assures him and leans in to kiss him.

Jungkook lets it happen with a fluttering heart. He gazes when the kiss breaks.

“What was that for?” he whispers 

“Because I feel so happy to be with you”, Taehyung whispers.

“I see. Then I gotta steal one too, don’t I?” he says and takes Taehyung’s cheeks to use them as leverage to push him onto the blanket. Taehyung falls with a laugh. 

They shove and push the picnic and paintings aside, losing themselves in the kiss seconds later. They will be lost in it for a long time. They will use this time in the sweetest, most healing way possible with tangled limbs and dancing lips, mixing in innocent touches and sighs of each other’s names. 

And they will make each other feel good. It will feel so incredibly good to them that their hearts will beat in sync through it all. And it will be innocent. It will be the sweet, innocent exchange of touches between two people who are so freely themselves when they are together.

The sun is in the midst of setting already when Taehyung feels the need to share what had burdened him for months. A blanket cocoons them in, keeping their bodies warm in the sinking temperatures. They are on their backs, watching the sky change colours. Jungkook’s body is touching Taehyung’s, sharing warmth this way. Jungkook has his arm stretched to the side, Taehyung is resting his head on it.

“Can you keep secrets?” Taehyung whispers.

“I tend to forget a lot of what other people tell me, so I can definitely keep a secret because I’ll forget it again.”

Taehyung laughs loudly, craning his neck to look at Jungkook.

“I mean it”, Jungkook snickers. 

“I know, I just thought that it was funny.”

“Yeah, I know”, Jungkook grins, “now what’s up? What secret do you wanna tell me?” 

Taehyung rolls his head back into a more comfortable position. Despite his muscles, Jungkook’s arm is very comfortable to rest on.

“I think it is more of an empty talk about my feelings than an actual secret.”

“That’s okay too. I can listen.” 

“I sometimes dream of being controlled. Of being told what to do, how to act, where to sit or stand or lie, what to wear. I dream of it. Dream of having every single aspect of my life dictated.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung with slightly widened eyes, while the latter is too lost in his rant to notice.

“And the thing is? I haven’t figured out whether it is a trauma thing or not. For many, many centuries I didn’t have freedom and lived under constant mind control. I had someone controlling me, but he hurt me as well. A lot.”

“It’s okay”, Jungkook whispers and holds Taehyung’s hand. He heard the tremble in his voice and needed to be there for him. 

Taehyung speaks easier with Jungkook’s support.

“I shouldn’t want to be controlled again, but I still dream of it. I truly do. I want to put myself into the hands of another and let them decide what is best for me. Is this wrong of me?” 

“You asked me too quickly. I need to think about it for a little.”

“No, please. This was just a rhetorical question, please don’t tell me your stance on it.”

“Why not? It could be good.”

“And if it is not? I cannot bear to be ridiculed, I am not stable enough for it.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, the latter can’t bear to meet his eyes.

“Are you currently having a hard time?” Jungkook asks quietly. 

“I think I might”, Taehyung confesses, “it hasn’t been that long since our situation has truly calmed down and I feel very lost these days.”

“You do?” 

Taehyung nods his head, “my life is so different to how it once was. All of our lives are. In the past, Yoongi rarely left his wing, let alone conversed with us, but these days he is spending time with us and talking with us. You, ___, Seokjin, Hoseok and Emma weren’t part of my life either and suddenly you live with us. Peace was never truly lasting for Jimin and me, but now it is our new reality. I am aware that our dynamic changed when we travelled the lands in search for Namjoon, but I feel like we didn’t have time yet to truly bond.”

“We didn’t have time yet to make sense of our situation.”

“Exactly. We didn’t have time yet to truly let it set in. At least this is how I feel. I feel so lost because everything changed so much and now I do not know what to do. How do I live freely? How do I find happiness? How do I…”

Taehyung looks away, touching his chest.

“How do I heal?” he whispers.  

“God Tae”, Jungkook whispers and rolls to his side. He gets on his elbow, closing the distance to Taehyung to place a tender kiss on his temple. He hugs his head gently, massaging his scalp slowly and keeping his lips against his temple. 

“I do not know how to live my life now that I am free and I think that it gives me a hard time. I am restless and nervous and scared to settle. What if I settle and then something ruins it again? What if I make peace with the fact that I am free only to be captured again? What if I allow myself to heal only to be hurt again? What if”, Taehyung gulps, reaching for Jungkook’s chest, “Jungkook, I think I might struggle more than I initially thought. My heart is beating uncomfortably. I don’t like this sensation, my throat is so tight.”

“You’re safe. You’re in the beginning of a panic attack, but you’re safe”, Jungkook comforts him, rubbing his chest in slow circles, “try to follow my breathing. I know it’s difficult, but you’re not gonna die. Promise.” 

Taehyung listens to Jungkook’s comforting words and finds healing in breathing with him. He felt smothered by his thoughts. Small, fragile and incapable of carrying their weight, but breathing helps. His pulse, which once tortured him, becomes bearable again. The rope once tightening around his throat dissolves again. 

“There we go”, Jungkook caresses his cheek, “you did it. I’m so proud of you.”

Taehyung closes his eyes and leans into Jungkook’s palm. 

“How did you know what was happening to me?”

“Experience. I didn’t have the easiest life as a human once I was drafted. I had a lot of panic attacks in the barracks and the trenches and I helped many of my comrades as well.”

“I see.”

“That’s why I’m so sorry that you feel this way. I understand how you feel so well.” 

“You do?”

“Of course. When something changes you as a person as drastically as trauma does, it is difficult to relearn yourself. And it’s only natural to feel restless and lost in calm moments when your life consisted of pain and trauma for so long.”

Jungkook brushes Taehyung’s tears away.

“I know that our traumas aren’t the same, but I also felt like you feel right now when I first had a holiday from the frontlines. Life back home was relatively normal, nobody changed drastically and I should have found peace in resting, but I couldn’t. I had changed. I woke up screaming, crying and throwing up from my nightmares, every loud sound felt like torture to me, my sweetheart’s affection made me uncomfortable and I kept shaking even in calm moments. My family had no idea how to help me and I had no idea how to live a peaceful life anymore because peace felt like mockery to me after everything I went through at the frontlines.” 

“I’m so sorry. Oh Kook, war is terrible. I hate that men never learn. It shouldn’t happen. It never should have. What an awful way to solve disagreements. What an awful, inhuman way.” 

“I agree”, Jungkook says and rests his forehead against Taehyung’s, “but what I want to say by sharing this part of me, is that you’re not alone. Our traumas may have different origins, but I understand how lost you feel in the peace and how anxious this makes you.” 

Taehyung whimpers softly, spilling tears against his will. Jungkook wipes them, keeping close to Taehyung.

“It gets easier, I promise. I never officially returned from the war because I became a Ripper before that, but I still experienced trauma afterwards and when I began to settle with Seokjin, I felt just as lost again because peace wasn’t an option for so long. It gets easier with time, I promise.”

“How long did it take you?”

“A few years.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and sobs softly, “years.”

“It could be different for you. I wasn’t in control back, so obviously I didn’t have absolute peace. But your situation is different and maybe it won’t take you years to be comfortable in the peace. Oh Tae, it’s okay. Let it all out”, Jungkook says and works diligently to wipe every tear Taehyung spills. 

“I don’t know why I am crying.”

“It’s okay. That’s all part of the healing. Let it happen.” 

And so Taehyung cries. He cries in grief for the person he could have been if he had never gone through hell. He cries in relief from being freed of this hell. And he cries in sweet realisation that he wasn’t alone in this, that he had Jungkook offering him comfort. He cries for many reasons and it felt good to do so. 

His thoughts are clearer after the cry, his chest not that heavy. 

Jungkook changed positions by now, resting on his side propped up on his elbow and with his hand drying his tears. 

Taehyung rolls to his side, looking up at him. He stopped crying many breaths ago. Jungkook still cradles his cheek and brushes his thumb under his eyes slowly.

“I feel better”, Taehyung whispers.

“That’s good to hear. You did really well. I know crying sucks, but it’s so healthy for you. Don’t ever hold it back.”

“It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

“That’s understandable. Come to me whenever you feel like crying. I’ll pay you company as you do.”

“What if it happens often?”

“Then I’ll pay you company until often turns into occasionally and sometimes until it finally turns into rarely.” 

“Oh.”

Jungkook brushes his thumb over Taehyung’s temple.

“You’re not a burden, Tae. You aren’t too much or overbearing. You never were and never will be. Not for me and not for our family.”

Taehyung places his shaky hands on Jungkook’s chest. 

“Can you control me?” he gets out.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Please can you control me? I don’t know what to do, but you do. Can you be the one to control me?”

Jungkook’s eyes soften.

“Oh Tae”, he whispers, “no, I won’t. You will always be free with me.”

“Please. I’m begging you. I don’t know what to do.”

“Then I’ll be with you as you walk the unknown path.” 

“Oh.”

“I won’t promise you anything like control, because I don’t ever want to take advantage of you, but one thing you can always count on is me. I’ll carry burdens which are too heavy for you, I’ll show you the way and you can always lean on me, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay”, Jungkook says and kisses Taehyung’s forehead. 

Taehyung exhales shakily, chasing the affection with closed eyes.

“Sweetheart”, Jungkook whispers and kisses his lips gently. He had no ulterior motive behind the kiss, no ill intent. But Taehyung is fragile and confused, lost in a situation he knows not to handle healthily.

Taehyung whimpers into the kiss, he chases it, deepens it with trembling lips. His hands slide to Jungkook’s small waist, his breath is instantly quickened, his heart races unbearably. He kneads Jungkook’s waist, touches it, grasps it. He needs to make sure he stays. He needs to stay please. Taehyung whimpers again, lips shaking against Jungkook’s, and then he slides his hands under his shirt to feel his naked skin. 

Jungkook breaks the kiss with a gentle “hey”, followed by a chuckled, “what are you doing?” 

“I’m yours, please I’m yours so, so claim me.”

“Claim you?” 

Taehyung pushes at Jungkook’s chest to gain space. The younger man lets him, gawking at him in confusion. Taehyung hooks his fingers in his own shirt and pulls it over his head.

“Tae, no wait-” 

He is shirtless, panting heavily but his eyes carried discomfort Taehyung wasn’t even aware that he felt it.

“God Tae, what are you doing?” Jungkook gasps.

“Take me, I-I can serve you well”, Taehyung stutters, presenting himself in an arch of his back. There are tears in his eyes and fragility in his voice. 

Jungkook studies his naked torso for a second, exhaling deeply. He takes Taehyung’s discarded shirt and unbuttons it.

Taehyung puts his hands together and presents them to Jungkook, thinking that he wants to tie him up with the shirt. 

But Jungkook doesn’t. Jungkook cradles his hands and holds them one by one as he slides the sleeves back on. He smoothes out the shirt on his back and closes it again in the front. 

“I don’t understand. Do you not want me?”

“I do, just not like this.”

“Is it because I’m human? I, I can make myself pretty, I-”

“No Tae”, Jungkook cups his cheek, silencing his anxious words, “no Tae” he whispers, “you’re beautiful. So incredibly beautiful.” 

Taehyung lowers his eyes. Jungkook continues with the buttons. 

“But you seem unstable to me.”

Taehyung meets Jungkook’s eyes again.

“Consent is more than just believing someone’s words. It’s about reading the situation and I can tell that you don’t really know what you actually want right now.”

Taehyung sniffles in order not to cry. It has been a long time since someone saw him.

“Let’s drink something for now, okay?” Jungkook suggests, rubbing his upper arms soothingly.

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay. Do you want lemonade?”

“Yes”, he whispers.

“Okay. Me too. I think lemonade is really yummy. You?” Jungkook asks, preparing the fruity drink.

“Me too”, Taehyung whispers, accepting the cup from Jungkook. 

Jungkook clings cups with him, making him giggle and lift his shoulders to his ears in shyness. 

Jungkook smiles at him, draping his arm around his waist.

“I like hearing you giggle, Tae. You’re really cute.”

“I am?”

Jungkook kisses his cheek, “you are.”

Taehyung whimpers and snuggles his face into his neck, squeezing his waist tightly.

“Thank you.”

“It’s the truth. You’re cute.”

“No. Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For stopping it.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, tightening his jaw. How many people ignored the signs and took advantage of Taehyung’s unstable attempts to “serve”? He shouldn’t thank him. Not for something that should be the bare minimum. Jungkook is a very protective person. Once he loves a person (in whatever form that love comes) he will literally burn the world for them. He feels numbing anger right now, wanting to hurt whoever took advantage of Taehyung. But he doesn’t let it show for Taehyung’s sake, speaking softly with the mentally fragile man.

“You’ll always be safe with me, Tae.” 

“I know”, his voice is shaky as he speaks. 

“It’ll never change. You’re safe and I’m gonna keep you safe.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and while it was shaking, it carried the first indicator of stableness in it. Just a little, just enough that Jungkook knows that all Taehyung really needs right now is a shoulder to lean on and someone being gentle with his words.

“I don’t think I enjoy being dominant as much as I thought I did”, Taehyung confesses quietly.

Jungkook tries to glance at him as best as possible.

“Not in a sexual context, but in general. I crave to be taken care of. I ache for it.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You are in a vulnerable mental state. It’s okay to want to be taken care of.”

Taehyung lifts his head, looking up at Jungkook with glassy eyes.

“Will you take care of me? Please? At least this?” he asks – begs – him.

“Of course Tae, I’ll take care of you.” 

“Oh god”, Taehyung chokes out and buries his face in Jungkook’s chest, “this felt so good to hear.”

Jungkook closes his arms around him, massaging his scalp slowly.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yeah, let’s stay like this for a while.”

#taehyung romance #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #jungkook romance #jungkook fluff #jungkook x taehyung #taehyung x jungkook #bts romance #bts fluff #bangtan romance #bangtan fluff #bangtan x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #fanfic: caerula luna

[im-overstimulated-and-im-sad]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag, @heartstringsduet @sznofthesticks @lemonlyman-dotcom 💝

This is from the next chapter of my TK and Sophie fic -

2011 -

“I’m serious, babes”. Gwyn said as she eyed her children. “Everyone at this table has been suspended enough for one school year. I’m not even talking about the whole week; I would love it to get through the day without the school calling that I have to pick someone up”.

“Mom, I get it,” TK said, guilt settling in his gut like a brick. Made out of lead. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’ll be fine”.

“Really?” his mother asked skeptically. “What are you going to do if you see Carson?”

TK shrugged. “His parents told him they don’t want him talking to me. He probably won’t try”.

“He approached your sister,” Gwyn reminded him. “Assume he does”.

TK started peeling off one of his nails. “Tell him I have to focus on school stuff, cause I missed so much”.

“And if his brother says anything to you?” Gwyn pressed.

“Try to be near the stairs if that happens,” Sophie interjected. “Then, one good push and…”

“Sophie, that isn’t funny”. Gwyn sighed. TK disagreed with that, but knew better than to say it.

“Or,” Sophie added, “you text me, I can come crouch behind him, and if he backs up, then he will fall, and maybe hit his stupid head on something”.

“I like that plan”. TK nodded in agreement. “Mom, I don’t want to talk to Duncan either,” he added when he saw his mom’s face. “I just want to get through this last month and get junior year over with. Promise”. His mom looked like she had more to say, but TK’s phone started ringing in his pocket.

“It’s Dad,” he said, opening his phone. “Hi, Dad?”

“Make it quick,” Gwyn said as he got up from the table. “We’ve got to leave soon, TK”.

“I know,” TK called over his shoulder. “What’s up?” he said into his phone. “Are you at work now?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Owen said. “I am, we just got back from a call. And I won’t keep you, but I knew this is your first day back at school and wanted to see how you were doing”.

“I’m fine”. TK said, looking down at his nails. If he kept going, he could probably tear this nail clean off. “I just want it to be June already. I’m ready for junior year to be over with”.

“I think we all are, bud,” his dad said softly. “So TK… are you nervous?”

TK rolled his eyes, but bit back a smile. Secretly, he was glad his dad wouldn’t let this bit die. “Yes”.

“First time?” Owen asked.

“No”. TK chuckled. “I’ve been nervous lots of times”.

No pressure tagging - I tag @anewkindofme @carlos-in-glasses @kiankiwi @honeybee-taskforce

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @literateowl @chicgeekgirl89 @chaotictarlos

@welcometololaland @paperstorm @nancygillianmvp @liminalmemories21

@carlos-tk @reyestrandd @firstprince-history-huh @actualalligator

@bonheur-cafe @terramous @fallout-mars @alrightbuckaroo

@snowviolettwhite @the-flaming-nightmare @lochnesswriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@goodways @vineofroses @theghostofashton @lightningboltreader

@ladytessa74 @herefortarlos @jesuisici33 @freneticfloetry

@mikibwrites @doublel27 @welcomehometk @rmd-writes

@safeaswrites @basilsunrise @celeritas2997 @sugdenlovesdingle

@birdclowns @mooshkat @thebumblecee and anyone else who wants to do it - open tag 🫶

#wip wednesday #911 lone star

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Mine

Chapter 14

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and Thorin disagree over your recent choices, and it seems this argument can only be settled one way...

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, Pin V sex, fingering

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your patience. I know this took a lot longer to post than I thought. The smuttier chapters always take me longer to write because I know those are the ones we all read the most😂 I promise it will be worth the wait and there will be plenty more to follow!♥

Word count: 3913

You shout his name in protest, kicking and struggling in his grasp. But his seething rage seems to have only made him stronger. He doesn’t even flinch when you beat your fists against the broad muscles of his back. And every effort you make to kick him in the face is easily dodged as he carries you up the stairs.

Bertram is following right behind him.

“Put my dancer down this instant!” he demands, struggling to keep up with Thorin’s angry strides.

“This is why I told you not to let him find out!” you shout from over his shoulder.

"You put her up to this?!” a yelp escapes you as Thorin whirls around at the top of the stairs, still dangling you over his shoulder. You can feel the growl reverberating against where your thighs are pinned to his chest.

“It was her idea,” you hear Bertram scoff. “Did you really think accommodating so many of you at once would come cheap? I was prepared to throw you out on your asses until she offered an encore performance to sweeten the deal.”

“Encore?!” Thorin’s grip tightens around your legs and you’re suddenly very grateful that you can’t see his face right now.

“An encore that has yet to be completed thanks to you. So either she goes back out there and puts on one heck of a performance or you and the rest of your companions will need to find accommodations elsewhere tonight.”

“From what I saw, she’s already given you more than enough of a ‘performance’ for one night. You and I can come to another arrangement in the morning but she will not be stepping foot on that stage again as long as I live.”

“That might not be as long as you think if you don’t put me down this instant, Thorin!”

He ignores your protests as he continues down the hallway, kicking open the door and depositing you back on your feet in the middle of the room.

You immediately rip his cloak off of you, balling it up and tossing it back at him. But it just falls to the floor in a pile as he turns his back to you. Opening your pack he starts to pull out various articles of clothing, tossing them over his shoulder to you.

“Get dressed,” he grunts. Shirts, pants, chemises, and skirts sail through the air but you merely bat them all away in defiance. It’s almost like he expected you to refuse when he looks over his shoulder at you. When he runs out of your clothes to toss at you, he simply starts to toss some of his own instead.

“Lack of clothing isn’t the problem here,” you remind him.

“Then what is?” he snaps, kicking discarded piles of clothing out of the way as he stalks closer to you. “Temporary insanity? Lack of attention?”

“Yes, Thorin,” you scoff, taking a step closer to him until the two of you are practically chest to chest. “I was so desperate for your attention that I decided to take my clothes off in front of a crowd of strangers.”

“You’d dance half naked for strangers but Mahal forbid people find out we have any kind of intimate relationship.”

“Are you still upset about that?!” you roll your eyes. “Not everything I do is about you, Thorin. It’s like Bertram said: he wanted to charge us far more gold than even Smaug has right now. We have a history, so I offered to do him a favor in exchange for lodging.”

“A history?” he scoffs.

“Yes, a history,” you snap. “I told you I used to be a tavern dancer to pay my way across middle earth. This tavern happened to be a frequent stop for me. Now quit deflecting!”

“I’m not the one deflecting, lass.”

“Then what do you call it when someone is pretending to be upset about information they already knew, in order to avoid talking about the real reason they’re angry?”

“What, pray tell, is the real reason I’m upset with you?”

You take a step closer to him, tipping your head back until the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I fixed things and it kills you. You can’t stand the fact that I was able to solve a problem for you. Mahal forbid the great Thorin Oakenshield show any signs of weakness, let alone allow a woman to solve a problem for him.”

“Now who’s deflecting?” he smirks and you let out an angry huff, crossing your arms over your scantily clad chest.

Thorin’s gaze dips down to where your breasts are pressed together above the shelf of your arms. He takes in the sight of your provocative attire for the first time in this new setting. Very little is left to the imagination in your current state. You have to resist the urge to shudder at the chill his gaze sends down your spine as he studies every inch of your exposed skin. His jaw clenches and you know he’s remembering just how many people were recently looking at the exact same ensemble.

He brings a hand to your chin, tipping your head back so you have no choice but to look directly at his scowling face. “No one gets to see you like this ever again, understood?” he growls and the corners of your mouth quirk up.

“Let me guess, except for you? That’s quite selfish of you Thorin.”

“I don’t care,” his grip tightens on your jaw, pulling you closer to him until your lips are just a breath away from each other. “You’re mine.” He devours you hungrily, pulling your bodies closer together. Your hands slide up his chest, clawing at the fabric separating the two of you.

“Mine,” he repeats with a low growl, abruptly releasing his grip on your face and taking a step back. Before you can protest, he is tossing you over his shoulder yet again. You let out a gasp as he tightens his grip around your bare thighs.

Trudging through the piles of discarded clothes on the floor, Thorin crosses the room to toss you down on the bed. You go to push yourself up onto your forearms but he is already climbing up your body to tower over you. Your lungs are heavy with the intoxicating scent of him as he pulls your mouth back to his. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him even closer to you, wanting his entire body weight to crash down on you until there isn’t any air left inside of you.

You shudder in delight when he breaks from your lips to kiss a path along your neck to nip at the shell of your ear. “Mine,” he says again, rising above you to fully admire your form trapped beneath him.

“Mine to touch,” his hands brush along your collarbone, traveling farther down your chest to trace the swell of your breasts. He bunches up the strip of fabric covering your top, lifting it to expose you fully. You think he’s just going to untie it, but instead, he tears the thin strip of fabric in two.

“Mine to admire,” he continues, ignoring the way your jaw has dropped at the loss of your only performance attire. Thorin doesn’t seem like he’s planning on letting you go anywhere in an outfit of that kind ever again, so perhaps it was part of his plan all along.

You narrow your eyes up at him in defiance, but he only smirks down at you. Watching the anger leave your eyes the moment his warm hands cup your breasts. Your jaw drops open again, but this time to release a moan as he squeezes and massages the flesh between his fingers.

“Mine to enjoy,” he declares keeping his eyes locked on yours as he lowers his face down to one of your breasts. Continuing to massage the other he gently sucks and bites at your now sensitive buds.

They’ve begun to darken and perk up ever since they were given his attention and he wastes no time worshiping the two mounds of flesh before him.

Wrapping your legs around his midsection you pull him closer to you, arching your back off the bed as you start to grind your core up against the hardness you feel trying to escape from his trousers.

Thorin gently scrapes his teeth against the tender flesh in his mouth and you groan at the sensation. Impatiently, you begin to tug at the edge of his shirt, desperate to have access to just as much of his skin as he does of yours.

Relenting to your unspoken wishes, he sits back upright above you slipping the material overhead. Your fingers connect with the warm skin exposed to you, tracing the muscles and ridges with your fingertips. You start to chart a path farther down his abdomen towards where you’re aching for him. You stop when your fingers brush against the rough material of the bandage you wrapped around his midsection. You were so caught up in your desire you completely forgot that he’s still seriously injured. Your hands go still, hesitantly hovering over the wound.

Maybe this isn’t the time. Despite how badly you want Thorin to fuck you into the mattress right now, you can’t risk doing any further damage. Especially with the rest of the journey still ahead of you. You’re so lost in thought you don’t notice Thorin’s hooked a finger under your jaw until he’s tipping your head up to look at him. “I’m fine,” he assures you but you still scrunch your nose up in thought.

“We should wait until you’re feeling better, as your physician I-”

He lets out a laugh, bringing his face down closer to yours. “You’re not a physician, lass,”

“I didn’t say I was a physician, I said I was your physician. I tended to the wound, I think that makes me responsible for its-”

He cuts you off again, this time with a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “You’re a truly maddening woman,” he whispers into your mouth, “and I won’t feel better until I’ve sufficiently had my way with you.”

“I suppose that could be considered an alternative form of treatment,” you mumble, all concerns disappearing from your mind as he brings your mouth back to his.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, gripping the strands to pull him closer to you until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. The way he smells, the way he tastes, the way the warmth radiating off of his skin makes all the blood rush to your cheeks.

The rough pads of his fingertips trace delicate lines down your stomach, disappearing underneath the remaining piece of clothing covering your aching core. His fingers circle your clit with a touch so featherlight it elicits a needy whine from your lips.

“Please,” you whisper hoarsely against his lips. You’ve both been denied this pleasure so many times today alone. If your poor dripping cunt doesn’t receive some attention soon, you fear you might melt into a puddle beneath him.

Your fingers give a firm yank to his locks again, and with a warning growl, he plunges two fingers deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, pressing your bare breasts against his chest as your mouth opens with a silent scream. Your eyes see nothing but stars and yet you can sense that self righteous smirk on Thorin’s face as he starts pumping his fingers inside you with a steady pace, stroking your inner walls in that one thrilling spot that makes your toes curl as you writhe and whimper beneath him.

“I know you don’t like to listen, darling,” he whispers above you, “but here is one order I know you will follow,” blinking, your eyes start to focus again on Thorin’s face looking down at you with a wicked smile. His eyes are filled with a darkness that makes your core clench around his fingers as he quickens his pace, bringing his thumb to trace circles on your swollen bud.

“Come for me,” he commands. And you do, without a second thought. Yanking a hand free you clamp your palm over your mouth to cover the cry of pleasure that escapes you. He doesn’t let up on his ministrations, even when your other hand tightens at his scalp so fiercely it’s a miracle you haven’t yanked a fist full of hair out yet.

With a heavy sigh, your body finally goes limp beneath him.

Chuckling, Thorin gently removes his hand from your spent cunt, bringing his soaked fingers to his lips hungrily. Your jaw drops at the sight, never breaking eye contact as he cleans every drop of your juices from his skin.

It looks so appetizing when he does it, you can’t help but stick your tongue out, batting your eyelashes up at him in the hopes that he’ll share. With a knowing smile, he is slipping his soaked fingers into your mouth for you to suck on. His eyes go wide in excitement, not only from the seal your lips have created around his fingers but also because your own fingers have slipped into his trousers. You wrap them firmly around his hardened cock, stroking as much of it as you can reach.

With his fingers in your mouth and his cock in your hand you look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes.

“So needy,” he chides with a click of his tongue. “You want more already?” you nod enthusiastically from around his fingers.

He brings his lips to your temple with a gentle kiss. “How could I deny such a beautiful creature?” reluctantly pulling his soaked fingers from your mouth, he reaches for his ever tightening trousers to finally free his member for your use.

Bringing your fingers down to your soaked bottoms, you slip them down your legs as far as you can. Kicking his trousers free, Thorin pulls the soaked fabric the rest of the way down your ankles discarding them somewhere in the mess behind you.

“Spread your legs for me, lass,” he commands, towering over you as he strokes his throbbing member in his hand. Blinking in shock, you open your legs wide for him, less from the command more from the sight of the cock before you.

You were far from a virgin at this point in your life. You’d met many different people throughout your travels and as a result you’ve had multiple lovers over the years. But try as you might to rack your brain you can’t think of a single cock you’ve seen that’s nearly as magnificent as Thorin’s.

It’s long and girthy, just looking at the strong member makes your cunt clench in anticipation.

“Fuck me Thorin,” you look up at him pleading, suddenly desperate to have it inside you, “please.”

“Mahal,” Thorin scoffs, “I don’t recall ever hearing you ask for something so nicely.”

Bringing a hand to your exposed thigh he starts to brush the tip of his cock against your weeping entrance, gathering all the wetness he can as he lets out a chuckle at the desperate whines escaping you in anticipation.

Finally lining himself up with your entrance, he brings his free hand to the mattress beside your face, caging you beneath him. He looks down at your face one final time, searching for any sign that you aren’t as desperate for this as he is.

“Fuck me,” you ask again, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And don’t be gentle.” You whisper into his ear.

That’s all the encouragement he needs, with a grunt he slams into you so quickly it knocks the breath out of your lungs. You nails scrape against his back as they scramble to find purchase while Thorin begins pounding his hips into you at a breakneck speed.

Honoring your request, he is not the least bit gentle with you. Your cries of pleasure are quickly drowned out by the sounds of slapping skin as he relentlessly thrusts into you so hard the bed begins to tremble beneath the two of you.

Let it break. You think to yourself. Nothing could pull either of you out of this cloud of lust that envelopes you. If it shatters beneath you, you’re certain Thorin will just continue pounding into you on top of the rubble.

“So tight,” he growls, “so warm. Feels just like heaven, I knew it would.”

You bite your bottom lip at the thought of Thorin fantasizing about this very moment. You can so clearly see him with his cock in his hand, imagining it was your cunt clenching around him just as it is now.

Untangling your arms from around his neck, Thorin reaches for your wrists, pinning them to the pillow above your head. “Don’t move them,” he commands with a sharp snap of his hips that makes you yelp.

Continuing a steady pace, he reaches for your legs behind him. Pressing one of your knees into your chest, he tosses the other over his shoulder. Gently kissing the exposed flesh of your calf he resumes his pace in this new position.

Throwing your head back you release a guttural moan, clenching your hands into fists above your head. With each thrust, Thorin hits deeper and deeper places inside yourself that seemed to have been previously left unexplored.

Every time the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix it makes you cry out louder in ecstasy. You’re itching to bring your hands back down to cover your mouth and suppress the noises the rest of the tavern will surely have heard by now.

“Keep them there,” Thorin reminds you, watching intently as you struggle to obey him. “I want them to hear.” He growls. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

He removes your leg from his shoulder to press it down against your chest like the other, folding you in half and pinning you into the mattress by the backs of your thighs.

“Say it,” he commands, leaning over you as he somehow increases his speed even more.

You groan beneath him, you know exactly what he wants from you but you can barely string together a coherent thought right now, let alone a sentence.

“Say it,” he says again, bringing a hand to your jaw to force your eyes to look directly into his.

“I’m yours, Thorin” you whimper beneath him and he crashes his lips into yours.

“Louder, lass,” his pace becomes more frantic and you can tell that he’s getting close.

Looking directly into his dazzling blue eyes you cry out: “I’m all yours.”

In just the nick of time, he pulls out of you with a shaky moan, spilling his seed all over your stomach.

The room is filled with the sounds of you both panting breathlessly. The air is heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. Your limbs feel so weak you can do nothing but lay on the bed in a post-orgasmic puddle, your eyelids starting to droop closed. You feel the mattress shift as Thorin rises from between your legs. You peel an eye open just in time to see him cross the room, still completely naked, to grab a wet rag.

He catches you watching him as he turns back to you, a gentle smile on his face as he returns to your side.

You can’t recall the last time you saw him look so… relaxed. His familiar scowl is nowhere to be seen as he gently wipes the cloth across your stomach and between your legs, a look of utter bliss on his face as he watches you watch him with a soft smile.

Once he’s wiped you clean he starts to rummage through the mess of clothing still littering the floor. You can spot dozens of your blouses and chemises from where you lay on the bed, but Thorin still grabs one of his own shirts from the pile.

“Sit up for me, a moment,” he asks gently. You push your aching limbs upright as best you can, Thorin’s hand hovering at your back to help you upright.

He slips his clean shirt over your head, helping to navigate your arms through the sleeves.

“Good girl,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you lay back down.

Once you’re settled back into a horizontal position he grabs for another set of clothing. You watch silently as he pulls on his shirt and pants from earlier. He reaches for his boots next and your brow furrows.

Is he leaving? Now that he’s gotten what he wanted from you and made a mess of the room. Is he just going to walk out that door and find another place to sleep for the night?

Thorin spots your look of confusion as he pulls his other boot on. “Don’t fret lass,” he assures you, “I’ll be right back.”

He gently slips out the door and you listen to the heavy sounds of his footsteps retreating down the hall. Your eyelids are still heavy, and you’re fighting sleep that threatens to overtake you. Only a few minutes pass until you hear him returning.

Shifting in the bed you push yourself up onto your forearms with a yawn as he reenters the room. You can smell the stew before he even opens the door and it instantly makes your mouth water.

“You missed dinner,” he reminds you, passing the warm dish into your waiting hands. “I had a previous engagement,” you reply with a mouth full of broth.

“Don’t remind me,” he growls as he kicks his boots back off, locking the door behind him.

“I’d say it worked out pretty well for the both of us,” you shrug. Thorin doesn’t say anything as he crosses the room to you, pulling the blankets out from underneath your bottom to tuck you into the bed fully.

By the time he’s wrapped you up underneath the covers and climbed in beside you, you’ve already inhaled the entire bowl. He laughs as you set it down on the bedside table with a hiccup. You sink deeper into the covers beside him and he reaches his hand up to your face, wiping a dribble from the corner of your mouth.

“Tomorrow we continue our journey,” he informs you and you nod in understanding. “In that case I certainly hope I’ll be able to walk in the morning.”

He laughs and pulls you into his chest. “I’d carry you,” he murmurs, burying his face in your hair. “I’ll carry you all the way home if I have to.”

You hum in contentment as you let yourself burrow deeper into his chest. Ignoring the stab of guilt in your chest when he says the word ‘home’.

It may have been your home in the past but it can’t be any longer. You wonder if you should tell him that you don’t plan to stay in Erebor long enough to call it home again. But then he begins to trace patterns with his fingertips over your lower back and you feel your eyes start to flutter closed.

Not now, you tell yourself. Not tonight.

Because you’re realizing that there is nowhere else in Middle Earth you’d rather be right now, than wrapped up in Thorin’s warm embrace. And you don’t dare do anything to spoil this perfect moment.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

@quiall321 @genderless-ghosty-boi

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[anzulvr]

୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader I| Chapter: 05 ୨୧

Prev || 05 Un? Fortunate || Next

⎯ "Just because you're a part of the student council doesn't mean you're allowed to get all cozy with Asano."  [Name] was sort of familiar with the student, a member of the fan club dedicated to the chairman's son, Asano Gakushu. 'It's way too early for this.' 

They'd never talked, but that didn't mean she hadn't had this same conversation with other people. It was as if his fan club had a precedent of hating [Name] before admitting members.

"I really don't know what you're talking about, but I can assure you there's nothing going on between-" The girl kept walking, harshly brushing her shoulder on [Name] in the process. She could barely get a word in.

It really wasn't like that. There was no reason for anyone to believe so, sure, she wasn't exactly out in the open about it but she was in a relationship. She isn't the type to mess with other guys behind Karma's back. She guessed it was the result of being the only girl on the council. They overanalyzed her every little step.

"If you want to be in the same class so badly just start failing until they throw you down with me."  Those were Karma's words from a few days ago, and [Name] was starting to consider them.

She couldn't decide if it was worth it or not. She was on top of her academics and as annoying as they were, spending so much time around the council meant the members grew on her.

'I need  something to drink...'

Out where the vending machines were she saw a familiar face, his blue hair tied up in pigtails. It had been so long since [Name] talked to Nagisa. As she was about to say hi, she noticed the green-haired girl who had been with him at the café. Her name was Kayano if she remembered correctly.

She didn't want to be rude and interrupt, that was the excuse she was going with. In full honesty, she was curious as to what Nagisa was doing with a girl, listening in for a bit wouldn't hurt.

"Explosives, guns, knives. I'm starting to doubt it's even possible to kill him." They were hovered over a notebook as if they were trying to solve a thousand-piece puzzle.

Some kind of game? That's what [Name] was wondering.

"but your notes are great, it's cool you're so observant Nagisa... what were we here for again?"

"Karma's strawberry milk."

"Yeah... He's a bit addicted don't you think?"

"Not as bad as your pudding thing... uh, hold on."

With instincts like Nagisas, he picked up on an uncounted-for presence. He shot Kayano a look, instructing her to quiet down with his eyes.

"[Name?]"

"Hey Nagisa! Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but you were busy."

"It's okay, How have you been?" He smiled warmly, internally he was praying you didn't hear anything strange.

"I'm good! I've missed you a lot, we haven't talked in forever!"

"We should hang out one of these days! Oh, I should introduce you, Kayano this is [Name], [Name] Kayano." He gestures between the both girls.

"Nice to meet you." Kayano shakes her hand.

"Why are there two types of strawberry milk here? Kayano, do you remember which one he gets?" asks Nagisa.

"No, just take a guess."

[Name] types on the vending machine's number pad. "He likes both but prefers this one, They taste the same to me though." She shrugs and almost hands the milk box to Nagisa, but she pulls back out of his reach at the last second.

"Can I go with you? I'll drop you off at your class!"

Nagisa smiles "That would be fun but you have your own class to get to."

"It's fine! I usually worried about skipping but only for a little won't hurt."

Nagisa is hesitant when he says "You'll face harsher consequences since you're in council." He didn't want her to feel rejected but if they walked together there was a pretty good chance she'd catch sight of Korosensei.

"The opposite actually, I get away with way more by being in council. It works out! Let's go I wanna see Karma."

Kayano yanks the milk from [Names] grasp. It's very abrupt and leaves an uncomfortable feeling in everyone. [Name] feels embarrassed, she's internally hoping they can't see it on her face. The feel becomes uncomfortable for a second, Kayano looks down not meeting [Names] eyes.

In an attempt to fix things [Name] apologizes, "Sorry, I get the hint, see you Nagisa." She smiles trying not to let things get more uncomfortable for anyone. They probably want to be alone.

"It's not like that! We'd like you to come but we'd get in a lot of trouble if anyone saw you with us, over the weekend we should meet up."

"Alright, we can do that." They wave goodbye to each other.

⊹₊ ⋆ Time skip ୨୧ ⊹₊ ⋆

"If you want to be in the same class so badly just start failing until they throw you down with me." [Name] and Karma were lying on his bedroom's wooden floor, staring up at the ceiling as they talked about whatever topic bubbled up on their minds.

"Hey Karma, do you really think I should drop down to E class?"

He looks at her curiously "What's got you thinking of that?"

"I was thinking of what you said the other day, maybe that is the only way we can be together."

"You don't have to sacrifice your grades for a few more hours with me, clinger."

"I wasn't gonna, it would take too long to get me to fail everything! Remind me why they decided to put you in that class again?"

"I broke a guy's arm." He says with not a second thought.

[Name] sighs "I can't do that..."

"I could do it for you, and you can take allll the credit. I got ways to make 'em play along!" If it were anyone else talking about this with so much excitement [Name] would question their mental state, but it's Karma.

"That's not what I meant... but thanks for having my back!"

Karmas is not sure about this, He knows [Names] fears and she's got lots of them. Spiders, thunder, heights, and much more, He questions if her heart could handle seeing a three-meter-tall octopus who might be the reason the world ends. Ultimately Karma decides to indulge in it, it would be nice having her around, on top of that she'd get along with his friends and definitely like the teachers more.

He thinks back to all the other stuff he pulled, none of which worked out but trying again wouldn't hurt, at least not him.

"You can try pulling pranks but it wasn't that effective for me."

"Help me think of something?"

"I wouldn't let you do it without me."

For now there was nothing to worry about, no one to distract them from one another, just the two of them.

note: sorry for still taking so long on request :,( I’m trying to balance the post of request and On Purpose, Ive also been reallll busy. Does anyone actuallyyyyy read this fic?? the updates are kinda just setting everything up rn, more Karma soon!

#ansatsu kyoushitsu #karma akabane #karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane x reader #akabane karma x reader #assassination classroom #karma akabane headcannons #assclass #kaede kayano #nagisa shiota #karma x you #reader x karma #AkabaneOnPurpose #anzulvr

[kentobb]

PRESAGE | CHAPTER SIX

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Female Reader

Genre: Angst ANGST Angst

Warnings: Foul Language and LOTS OF ANGST.

Author’s note: There’s a lot of Angst in this chapter. Beware.

Ushijima sat at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched forward as he nursed a glass of whiskey. The dim lighting cast shadows over his usually impassive face, revealing lines of worry and a vulnerability that Tendo had never seen before. Tendo, perched on the stool beside him, watched his old friend with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He had always known Ushijima as the unshakable pillar, a man of few words and even fewer outward emotions.

Tonight was different.

"Hey, Ushiwaka," Tendo began, trying to sound casual despite the knot of worry tightening in his chest. "What happened tonight, man? I've never seen you like this."

Ushijima took a long sip of his drink before responding, his voice a low rumble. "I kissed her.”

Tendo blinked in surprise. “Are you guys back together?”

"No, I just…" Ushijima said, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. "It was a lot of things. Lots of emotions. I wasn't there when he was born. I wasn't there for any of it. I wasn’t there for her. And she only keeps pushing me away.”

Tendo let out a slow breath, trying to process the gravity of Ushijima's words. He had always seen his friend as an impenetrable fortress, someone who carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders without so much as a flinch. But here he was, baring his soul in a way that was both heartbreaking and profoundly human.

"Listen, Ushiwaka," Tendo said softly, placing a hand on his friend's arm. “Everything may seem disastrous. But believe me when I say that things will get better.”

Ushijima looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't know if I can do it, Tendo. She hates me, doesn’t want me to met him. What if he doesn't want anything to do with me? He's out there, growing up without knowing who I am. And I... I feel terrible about it. He deserves to know. To know his father."

Tendo squeezed his arm reassuringly. "You can't think like that. The important thing is that you try. He might be angry, confused, maybe even hurt at first. But kids are resilient, and they understand more than we give them credit for. He deserves the chance to know his father, and you deserve the chance to be in his life."

Ushijima nodded slowly, the weight of Tendo's words sinking in. "You're right. I have to try.”

Tendo smiled, a rare moment of seriousness in his usually playful demeanor. "Exactly. And remember, you're not alone in this. I'll help you however I can. You're like a brother to me, Ushiwaka. We'll get through this together."

Ushijima's stoic facade cracked, a small, grateful smile appearing on his lips. "Thank you, Tendo. I... I don't know what I'd do without you."

Tendo chuckled, the tension in the air easing slightly. "Well, you'd probably be a lot less entertained, that's for sure. But seriously, everything's going to be alright. We'll figure this out, one step at a time."

The next day, Ushijima stood outside your apartment, his heart pounding in a way it never had before a volleyball match. He raised his hand to knock, hesitating for a moment, then rapped on the door. Moments later, it swung open, your eyes widened in surprise, jaw nearly dropping. The argument you had the night before was still fresh in your mind, tension lingering in the air between the two of you.

"Ushijima," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," he replied, his tone earnest. "Is this a bad time?"

You glanced behind you, into the apartment, then back at him. "No, it's fine. Asami took Asahi to school. Come in."

He entered the apartment and quickly settled into the living room. Ushijima sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped together, while you sat across from him, expression wary.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and steady. "I'm sorry for the outburst yesterday. I was overwhelmed... I didn't handle it well. But I need—“

You nodded slowly, eyes fixed on him, waiting.

"I want to meet my son," he said, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I need to. Whether or not I deserve it, it’s my right as his father."

A heavy silence fell between the two of you, one that made him shiver. He could feel the weight of your gaze, the conflict in your eyes.

"I'm scared," You finally said, voice soft but firm. "I'm scared of how Asahi will react. I want to protect him. He's... he's everything to me."

"Don't you think I want that too?" Ushijima's voice was raw with emotion, his eyes pleading with yours. "He's my son too. I want to protect him just as much as you do."

You stood firm, arms crossed protectively over your chest. “I understand that, Ushijima, but it’s not that simple…Asahi…Asahi is only five. He doesn’t know you. Bringing you into his life suddenly could confuse and scare him.”

“I can protect him, too,” Ushijima countered, his voice rising. “I’m his father. I have a right to be in his life. You don’t get to decide that on your own.”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “I’m not trying to keep him from you. I’m trying to protect him. He’s been through so much already. I don’t want to disrupt his life.”

Ushijima took a step closer, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Do you think I want to disrupt his life? I want to be there for him, to support him, to love him. But I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his eyes, but your fear for Asahi was stronger. “You don’t understand what it’s been like. I’ve had to make all the decisions on my own. I’ve had to be both mother and father to him. And now you’re here, demanding to be part of his life, but you haven’t been here. You haven’t seen what he’s been through.”

“And whose fault is that?” Ushijima shot back, his voice breaking. “You never told me. You never gave me the chance to be there.”

Your tears spilled over, voice shaking with emotion. “You left me to make your dreams come true, you would have done the same thing with Asahi.”

Ushijima's frustration had reached its breaking point, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “I would have stayed for Asahi, not for you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You stood motionless, eyes widening in shock. Your face crumpled as the weight of his words sank in, the heartbreak clear and devastating. You looked away, unable to meet his eyes, body trembling with the effort to hold yourself together.

The room seemed to shrink around the two of you, the walls closing in as the voices echoed off the surfaces. Your heart pounded in her chest, a mix of anger, fear, and sorrow.

In that moment, Ushijima realized the gravity of what he had said. The anger and frustration that had fueled his words evaporated, leaving only a hollow regret. He wanted to take it back, to tell you he didn’t mean it, Fuck, but the words lodged in his throat, refusing to come out.

Both of you stared at each other, the tension thick in the air. After what felt like an eternity, your voice, was barely a whisper. “If I had told you back then… you would have stayed, but not because you loved me. You would have given up your dreams, and you would have resented me. You would have resented us.”

Your words cut through him, each one a knife to his heart. You wiped your tears with a trembling hand, your eyes still fixed on the floor. “I wanted to protect Asahi, but I also wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to destroy your dreams. And now… now I don’t even know if I did the right thing.”

Ushijima’s throat tightened, his chest constricting with unspoken apologies. He had never felt so helpless, so trapped by his own emotions. The realization that his words had caused you such pain was a weight he didn’t know how to bear.

You took a deep, shaky breath, your voice steadier but still filled with sorrow. “You’re right, Ushijima. You need to meet your son. But it has to be slow. We have to do this carefully, for his sake.”

You finally looked up, but your eyes didn’t meet his. Instead, they focused somewhere over his shoulder, as if you couldn’t bear to see him. That avoidance cut deeper than anything else, a silent confirmation of the hurt he had caused.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work,” you continued, voice devoid of its earlier strength. “But please, understand that this isn’t easy for me. I’m scared for him, and I’m scared for us.”

Ushijima nodded, though you weren’t looking at him to see it. He had gotten what he wanted—he would be able to see his son. But at what cost? The pain in your eyes, the heartbreak he had inflicted, made the victory feel hollow and tainted.

He wanted to say he was sorry, to reach out and comfort you, to take back the words that had caused so much damage. But the apology was stuck, the weight of his own guilt and frustration silencing him.

"I think it would be best if it happened in a place where he feels comfortable.” You began, voice steady but soft. “There’s this ice cream place he loves. It’s his favorite spot."

Ushijima nodded, sensing the importance of the suggestion. "That sounds like a good idea. I want him to feel at ease."

Your eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension between the two of you seemed to ease, or at least he thought. "It's called Sweet Delights. It's just a few blocks from here. We go there every Friday after school. Maybe... maybe you could meet us there this Friday?"

Ushijima smiled, a rare warmth in his usually stoic expression. "I’d like that. Thank you, Y/N.”

You nodded, "I'll talk to Asahi beforehand, let him know that there's someone special he’s going to meet. But I want you to understand... he's still a child. This is going to be a lot for him."

"I understand," Ushijima said gently. "I'll go at his pace. I just want him to know who I am."

"Alright," You said, voice shaky and painful, "Friday, at Sweet Delights. Around 4 PM." The pain in your tone was unmistakable.

"I'll be there," Ushijima promised.

Your face was turned away, but he could see the tension in your posture, the way your shoulders hunched as if trying to protect yourself from further hurt. The silence between was heavy, laden with unspoken words and raw emotions.

He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes never leaving your face. He could see the tears brimming in your eyes, ready to spill over at any moment. The sight of your pain was almost too much to bear. "Hey…” he began, his voice soft, laden with regret and desperation.

But you didn't look at him. You stood still, face turned away, every line of your body taut with tension. Ushijima reached out, his hand trembling, and tried to take yours. The moment his fingers brushed against your skin, you flinched and pulled away, the rejection hitting him like a physical blow.

You turned and walked to the door, movements slow and deliberate. When you reached it, you opened it wide, the gesture as clear as any words could be. You wanted him to leave. Without saying a word, you had dismissed him from your presence, from the fragile moment you had shared.

Ushijima took a deep breath, the air catching in his throat. His chest felt tight, constricted by the weight of everything unsaid. He took one last look at you, hoping for a flicker of something—anything—that would tell him you both weren't completely lost to each other. But you remained still, her eyes refusing to meet his.

With a heavy heart, he turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The finality of that sound echoed in his mind, a poignant reminder of the distance.

Standing in the hallway, Ushijima felt an overwhelming emptiness settle over him. He had come here seeking a connection, hoping to start building a bridge to his son. Instead, he had inadvertently widened the chasm between himself and you.

He took a deep breath, the air feeling cold and thin. The emotions he had kept tightly controlled now swirled chaotically within him—regret, sorrow, anger at himself. He wanted to turn back, to knock on the door and say all the things that were trapped inside him. But the memory of your tear-filled eyes and the way you had pulled away from his touch held him back.

<3 Let me know in the comments your reaction. Comments, notes or reblogs are appreciated 🩷

#haikyuu #hq x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #hq angst #angst #angst angst angst #haikyuu angst #ushijima angst #ushijima x y/n

[bambiinobambii]

𝑀𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒪’𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒶

the character overlook part 2!!

this is going to be shorter but i still want my yap (spoilers it’s not im passionate about this), spoiler heavy for chapter 4-6

i’m not really proof reading any of this so sorry if anything’s wrong please tell me

🪞before i say anything i want to point out a bit of dialogue between sean and molly

m - i dont have much opinion on you

s - ah but you don’t like me, i can see it in your eyes

m- i don’t know what you’re talking about mr macguire

s - but you look down your pretty little stuck up nose at me

m - i guess i didn’t come to america to meet boys who crawled out of the local bog. when i could have paid them to sweep my chimneys at home

s - i knew it. you’re a snotty nosed little west briton

m - i am no such thing

s - ‘course you are, i see it now. you probably have a family with a big farmhouse and titles

💋 i want to bring this up for a few reasons

1. sean is one of the only characters in camp proud of his heritage, molly is quite superficial and she doesn’t talk much about it, kieran doesn’t know much about his heritage and doesn’t know how to pronounce colm even though kieran was with the o’driscolls

2. he calls her a “little west briton” which usually means an irish person who greatly admires England or Britain, thinking them superior to Ireland

3. i said in my last post that i assumed molly became well off from. a family business in agriculture

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋now i don’t have much to say about her outfits here because of the fact that they stay the same so i’ll talk more about her and dutch

💋from shady bell onwards molly really starts to loose it and there’s more and more arguments between the two of them at one point she screams that he ruined her life

💋molly starts getting really paranoid, she sits at one of the docks by herself and karen even tries to comfort her in her own drunken way even when molly approaches her and confronts karen about talking about her (i’m not entirely sure if she actually did) molly smacks karen, karen hits her back harder and molly storms off to behind the house

💋i feel molly starts to realise she is the fool that everyone calls her for falling for dutch, and there’s a held sentiment that dutch probably never loved anyone more than annabelle and molly was more of a distraction with a pretty face

💋walking around shady belle, molly is usually found sulking in the corners of the house on her knees with her head down, i’d also like to put out there that in their room one one side of the bed is disturbed

💋i think kieran’s death was a way to put into perspective how the gang was falling apart molly asking arthur how this is allowed to happen

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋molly is absent at the end of chapter 5 and i’m not entirely sure that people really questioned it at all (i was obviously trying and failing to find my wife)

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋now let’s get into the deep shit of the start of beaver hollow

💋molly is clearly drunk back in her casual outfit with her blue shirt, which i think personally is how she felt more comfortable in

💋she curses out dutch and says that she told milton about the saint denis robbery

💋i think she went through the realisation when she was away of dutch’s complex about himself, calling him “your majesty” or “master” when she makes fun of him

💋dutch talks a lot about loyalty and having faith and him and miss grimshaw carry the sentiment that she broke the rules

💋miss grimshaw shoots molly, and i think, though i love molly, she is my wife, it was the last nail on the coffin that when molly died she sees dutch, the only person she thought liked, even loved her, looking disappointed in her

💋she also didn’t get a proper burial and got burned

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

(only doing positive ones bc that’s what my baby deserves)

💋 karen’s the most aggressive after mollys death as she holds a grudge to miss grimshaw, calling her a filthy murderer and saying that she probably liked doing it, karen had seen (imo) that molly just wanted dutch’s attention and she was blinded by love

💋 i personally hold a grudge too but she seemed remorseful that she did it because she had to

💋 abigail feels guilty but they’re still under the pretence that she ratted on them

💋 charles says he feels bad even though he didn’t know her well

💋 strauss, though i think he probably did not gaf he actually includes molly in him saying the camps falling apart

💋 marybeth just feels guilty about her, saying that she doesn’t believe it, she probably said that in the way of she couldn’t believe that mollys dead but i’d like to think she also didn’t think that molly did it

💋 swanson says she’ll be in his prayers

💋though i’d like to add dutch’s reaction to yknow the supposed lover of him saying that he shoulda cut her off ages ago

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋i feel like people forget that milton tells arthur they couldn’t get anything out of molly , if you know micah is the rat you have to know molly isn’t

💋 off topic but i want to say i also saw someone say mary (linton) was one of the rats, i feel like people forget that mary knew arthur was never going to change for her, her missions never affects the plot, she’s always going to send the infamous letter at the start or beaver hollow, she never changed the ending you can not help her and never talk to her again and there’s still the same ending it’s all micah

@lovearthur since you got tagged in the last one 🫶🏼

#lesbian #bambiitalks #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #wlw blog #molly o'shea #molly oshea #karen jones #abigail roberts #abigail marston #sean macguire #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #micah bell #ill treat u better molly oshea

[withgirl-sq]

Have been binging your Avatar Azula AU, currently about to start the boiling rock chapters. And I have to say how much I love the fic!!! Also, I've been loving the Azutara relationship so much!

Thank you so much! It means a lot that you're enjoying and you took the time to let me know ❤️

I hope you enjoy the Boiling Rock, would love to hear what you think!

#azutara #azulara #kazula #azula #katara #avatar azula au #avatar the last airbender

[kmomof4]

A Scoundrel… Or a Gentleman?

Ohhhhhh, I’m so happy to FINALLY be posting this fic!!! Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton’s story, When He Was Wicked, I wrote the prologue - 8k words - last September, then took a six month break before sitting down and getting the rest of the thing written. I so hope I did the story justice and that you enjoy and let me know what you think!!

And now thanks to whom thanks are due!!! @jrob64 is a LITERAL SAINT for everything she did to make this fic better. She is an outstanding beta and a dear friend, but I seriously tried her patience going back over and back over and back over AGAIN trying to make this just right. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, my friend, for EVERYTHING!!!

To @hollyethecurious for all the historical info that she shared with me and asking the questions that needed to be asked and answered before the fic was ready for posting. Her support was absolutely invaluable. Thank you, babe!!!

To @motherkatereloyshipper for her work on the Prologue artwork shown below. It is soooo beautiful, I could stare at it for hours!!! Thank you so much, darlin!!! Please give her lots of love!!!

The fic is complete with a total of 9chs. I’ll be updating twice a week- Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Summary: Killian Jones has been in love with Emma Nolan since the day he met her - the day before she married his brother Earl Liam Jones. That was six years ago, and Liam has been gone now for four years. Emma and Killian have both arrived in London for the season - her to seek a husband so she can hopefully bear children, him to finally take up his duties as the earl, including finding a wife. Will they succeed in their respective desires?

*spoiler alert- of course they will. It’ll just take them a little while to get there…*

Rating: M (smut in later chs)

Words: almost 8400 words of approx 59,5k

Tags: Regency Romance, Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton’s Story, Smut in Later Chapters

On ao3 if that’s your preference.

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@Jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @bluewildcatfanatic

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Prologue

There is a moment in every man’s life in which his future becomes clear. A turning point of sorts. The moment when he becomes a man, when he leaves the irresponsibility and temerity of youth behind and turns his eyes to the future. A future that he’d never bothered to think about before. Unfortunately, that moment came for Killian Jones when he first laid eyes on Emma Nolan at a supper celebrating the imminent marriage between herself and Killian’s brother, Earl Liam Jones.

After years of chasing anything in a skirt, Killian grimaced at the irony. In all that time, he’d never allowed his heart to become entangled with his many, many romantic exploits. Allowing himself to be chased until he conquered, his reputation as a rake and a scoundrel was well deserved. He’d even stopped attending church, although he assuaged the pricking of his conscience by telling himself the derelict stones of Kilmartin Abbey on the Kilmartin estate up in Scotland… no originality among his ancestors there, who were so proud of the title when it was newly bestowed about 300 years ago, they attached it to everything they possibly could... Anyway, the Abbey couldn’t withstand a direct strike of lightning, which would surely happen if Killian Jones ever showed his face inside. 

Killian Jones

Worst of Sinners

He would have had it printed on calling cards if he didn’t think it would actually kill his mother. The only semblance of honor he’d maintained in his heart over all these years was the fact that the only times he’d slept with married women was if their husbands were tossers, and they’d produced at least two male offspring. Three, if one was sickly. He’d also never seduced a virgin, but even that wasn’t enough to redeem him now. Because this was the one thing that truly blackened his soul beyond all redemption. 

He coveted his brother’s wife. 

And had since that fateful moment two years ago. The day he met Emma Nolan. Now Emma Nolan Jones. Lady Kilmartin. Countess Kilmartin. Wife of his brother, the Earl of Kilmartin.

He could torture himself for days, thinking of every iteration of Emma Nolan Jones, but it would never change the simple fact. He couldn’t have her. She’d never be his.

Now, looking around the room where he, Emma, and Liam were enjoying some after-dinner conversation, he had to rise and cross the room to the decanter, pouring himself a drink to avoid the thoroughly besotted eyes Liam and Emma were making at each other.

“What shall we do for our second anniversary?” Emma asked, sitting down at the pianoforte, her long delicate fingers tickling the keys. Killian swallowed a low groan.

“Anything you want, darling,” Liam answered. He smiled gently at his wife as he opened the evening edition of the Times. She turned her attention to Killian.

“What do you think?”

“About what?” he asked, turning to her, a charming, lopsided smile on his face. No one took him seriously when he smiled like that, which was exactly the point. She pressed her lips into a thin line and Killian relented slightly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening.”

“What should we do for our anniversary?”

If she’d thrust her own hand into his chest and squeezed his heart to dust, it probably would have hurt less. He shrugged indifferently. He was, after all, an expert at hiding what he really felt.

“It’s not my anniversary.”

Emma rolled her eyes, the corner of her lips lifting in amusement. It probably wasn’t a good thing that Killian spent far too much time studying the lips of his brother’s wife.

“I’m aware,” she huffed. “I was asking if you had any ideas for us.”

Killian lifted one brow quizzically. “Why would you ask me, when I have absolutely no experience in the realm of marriage or the anniversary celebration of such?”

The amusement left her face and was replaced with irritation and no small amount of sympathy. Emma rose and moved toward him.

Oh, God, he thought. Please no. There’s nothing worse than when she…

She placed her hand on his arm.

“You won’t always be unmarried, you know,” she said gently.

She shouldn’t be touching him. She couldn’t be touching him. His next words were with the singular purpose of getting her away from him.

“Am I to become your project then?” he bit out. “‘Killian can’t possibly be happy living his life of debauchery and aimlessness, so I must see him married,’” he mocked. “I am not interested in marriage, thank you very much.” 

She removed her hand from his arm and backed up, her brow furrowed, her mouth a small o of hurt. Thank heaven, it bloody worked, he thought, even as the guilt surged.

“We care about you, Killian, and we want to see you happy.”

And there it was. We. Not I. We. They were a unit. Liam and Emma. Lord and Lady Kilmartin. She may not have meant it that way, but that was what he heard. As if he’d ever forget it.

“I care about you, too.” His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper and he shot pleading eyes toward his brother who finally gave up all pretense of reading.

“Emma,” he chastised lightly. “Killian is a grown man. Let him find his happiness when he’s ready. In his own time.”

Emma shot her husband a disgruntled look. Killian had to bite back a bark laugh. He knew Emma almost as well as he knew his brother, and he recognized the root of her irritation was at being thwarted in her attempt to arrange the people in her life to her satisfaction. Liam smirked at him and picked his paper back up as she returned to the pianoforte and sat down, her visage contemplative. It suddenly lit up and Killian’s heart rate increased with it. 

“I should introduce you to…”

“Emma.” It was only a single word, but Liam’s voice held a note of reprimand in it. Leave him alone.

Emma deflated and Killian could have kissed his brother. He may have only thought he was saving Killian from Emma’s nagging, but if he had to suffer the woman he was in love with trying to find him a match - a match he was wholly uninterested in - it might be the final straw of his sanity. Truly. 

“We should all go for a walk,” she said suddenly. Killian looked out the windows where darkness had finally descended over London.

“Isn’t it a little late?” he asked.

“Not with two strong escorts,” she cheeked.

“I’ve an appointment in an hour,” Liam said. He winced and rubbed his temple. “And I’ve got a headache. I think I’ll lay down for a bit before leaving.” He looked at Killian then. “But you should go.”

Absolute proof that Liam hadn’t a clue about his brother’s true feelings for Emma.

“Parliament?” Emma asked. Liam nodded and rose. “Do you want me to wake you when we return?”

“I’ll ask my valet to do it, darling,” he said, dropping a gentle kiss to her lips. Killian averted his eyes. He’d never begrudge his brother and his beloved their happiness, but he certainly wasn’t going to watch them bask in the clear love between them. 

“I’ll just be a moment,” Emma assured him once Liam left, a soft smile on her face, her forest green eyes glowing. Perhaps it should disturb him how certain he was of the color of Emma’s eyes when she wasn’t even in the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He dreamed in shades of green these days. Emma green, the color should be called. He poured himself another drink and slammed it back, trying to steel himself for their impending constitutional. 

He knew he shouldn’t be accompanying her. He knew he shouldn’t ever be alone with her. But when she smiled, he was helpless to resist her. It may leave him wracked with equal parts guilt and desire later, but he couldn’t deny himself any amount of time in her presence. Because that’s all there would ever be. He’d never act upon his desires. Never betray his brother in that way or sully Emma’s reputation. There’d never be a kiss, meaningful glances or touches, whispered words of love and affection, or moans of passion. 

All he’d ever have was her friendship, her smile, and her company. And besotted fool that he was, he’d be happy with it.

She came back down wrapped in a soft yellow cloak and he held his elbow out for her to take. Resigned to his fate, he escorted the love of his life out of the house and to the street below. Lucky him.

~*~*~

As Emma and Killian walked along the street, Emma couldn’t help but think what a dear man her brother-in-law was. Oh, he’d be certain to scoff and list all the reasons his soul was as black as they came (none of which, she was afraid, were exaggerated) if she expressed those sentiments out loud, but she knew him nearly as well as she knew her husband, and Killian Jones possessed a heart of honor and had a capacity to love that was unequaled among the men of her acquaintance. And if she didn’t find him a wife soon, she’d go mad.

“Killian,” she began, turning to look at him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupted. “Didn’t Liam just suggest that you let me find my happiness in my own time?”

Emma’s jaw dropped in shock. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

“You’re a bit of an open book, my dear,” he said, looking at her and booping her on the nose. Emma huffed indignantly as they continued their walk.

It was funny. When she met Liam, she fell head over heels in love more quickly than she ever imagined possible. He understood her in a way that she’d never experienced before. Of course, she loved her family immensely, but as the youngest of six siblings, she often felt lost in the shuffle. Killian was the only sibling Liam had, and removing herself from the hubbub of London and her large family felt like a breath of fresh air. Not to mention the actual fresh air of Scotland, her new home.

But then there was Killian. She hadn’t met him until the day before her nuptials to Liam, since he’d just recently returned home from the Napoleonic Wars on the continent. He was handsome, to be sure, but there was an undeniable connection between them that she felt from the moment she met him. If Liam understood her the way no one ever had before - the opposite side of the same coin - then Killian was like a puzzle piece that fit her perfectly. A puzzle piece she never knew she was missing. He completed her. Besides Liam, Killian was her very best friend and that was why she wanted him to be as happy as she was. And the only way that was going to happen was if she found him a wife who’d make him as happy as Liam made her.

“Finding me a wife is not among your duties, Lady Kilmartin,” Killian spoke again, drawing her from her musings.

She huffed again. “Well, it should be.”

He laughed, which delighted her immensely. She could always make him laugh.

“Very well, then,” she said, dropping the subject for now. “Tell me something wicked. Something that Liam wouldn’t approve of.” Her lips lifted in a conspiratorial smirk that he returned in kind. It was a game they played, that spoke again to how Killain somehow completed her. As much as she loved her husband, hearing about Killian’s exploits was always immensely entertaining. And she knew Liam enjoyed hearing about them, too, even if he gave a token admonishment whenever he was also present. Killian never shared too much, he had too much discretion for that, but he’d share hints and innuendos that never failed to amuse her greatly.

“Alas, I’m afraid I’ve done nothing wicked this week,” he said with a sigh.

“You?” she asked, incredulous. “I find that very difficult to believe.”

“It’s only Tuesday, my dear,” he reminded her.

“I’m aware,” she shot back, “but aside from Sunday, which I’m sure you’d leave sacred…” She shot him a look that belied her words completely, earning her another laugh, “that would leave Monday, and a man can get up to quite a bit of mischief on a Monday.”

“Not this man,” he assured her. “Not this Monday.”

“What did you do then?”

He was quiet for a moment as they continued walking. 

“Nothing, really.” 

There was a tone of melancholy blanketing his words and Emma stopped and turned to him. His blue eyes shone under the street lamps and Emma was shocked at the intensity she found there. A moment later it was gone and the thought occurred to Emma that Killian Jones perhaps wasn’t really the man he wished others to believe him to be. Even her.

She squeezed his arm gently. “We must find you something,” she whispered into the night.

He held her gaze a moment longer then he looked up.

“We must return. Liam will have my head if you catch a chill.”

“Liam will blame me for my foolishness of insisting on a walk after dark, and well you know it. This is just your way of saying you have a woman waiting for you, probably wearing nothing but a sheet.”

He smirked. A devil-may-care grin that made Emma roll her eyes and recall why the female half of the ton fancied themselves in love with him, even without the title.

“Don’t be jealous, my dear,” he said, the teasing clear in his voice, making Emma roll her eyes again.

“As if I ever could be,” she scoffed.

He stopped and faced her, the way his black hair flopped over his brow making her long to brush it back. The intense look was back in his crystal blue eyes and Emma had trouble drawing a deep breath.

“I know.” His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “It’s the only reason I tease you.” He reached up and lightly ran his knuckles down the side of her face. “You’re the only woman I know who would never stray. I can’t tell you how much I admire you for that.”

“I love your brother. I could never betray him.”

“I know that, too.” His hand returned to his side. He was so handsome and so in need of love, Emma felt her heart would break. If only he’d let someone, anyone, into his heart. If anyone would care enough to look beneath the handsome, yet devilish facade, they’d find the man she knew- kindhearted, loyal, and true.

They continued toward Kilmartin House and Emma took a deep breath. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight. I was just feeling so closed in, claustrophobic almost. The fresh air did me quite a bit of good.”

“Then I’m happy to have been of service, milady,” he said as they climbed the steps to the front door of Kilmartin House. The door opened, the butler obviously looking out for them, and Emma undid and handed him her cloak and gloves.

“Will you stay or must you go?” she asked Killian. She could just see Liam’s valet coming down the stairs out of the corner of her eye.

Killian checked his pocket watch. “I’ll wait for Liam, if he hasn’t left yet. I came on foot, so I might as well avail myself of his carriage after he’s done with it.”

Emma nodded and turned to the valet. 

“Has his Lordship left yet?”

“No, my lady. I’ve rapped on his door, but he must be sleeping quite soundly. Do you still want me to wake him?”

Emma sighed. As much as she wished he could sleep longer, she knew how important this meeting was.

“No need,” she assured the man. “I’ll wake him myself. Thank you.” She nodded at him and Killian and hurried up the stairs.

Moments later, Emma’s scream pierced the night.

~*~*~

Killian had no memory of taking the stairs three at a time to rush to Liam’s bedchamber, one of two thresholds in the house he’d never breached. He suddenly found himself there, staring at the bed on the other side of the room, barely conscious of Emma screaming from where she sat on the edge of the bed as she shook the shoulders of his unnaturally pale and still brother.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. Whoever that was lying on the bed, it wasn’t his brother. His brother was gone. He’d seen death in battle, but death wouldn’t dare come for Liam. Liam. Who was so strong. So steady. The pillar of their family. The one they all relied on. The picture of good health. 

He took a laborious step forward.

“Emma.” His voice was hoarse, strangled, and unsurprisingly Emma made no indication that she’d heard him, her screams continuing unabated. When she finally stopped to take a breath, her face turned to him.

She rose, her movements so slow and graceful, her face nearly as pale as Liam’s, Killian could have mistaken her for a ghost. She glided toward him and as she got closer, he could see the splotches of color high on her cheekbones, the sunkenness and redness of her eyes, the tear tracks down her cheeks. She grabbed his hand, her grip so tight her knuckles were white.

“Wake him up, Killian,” she begged, more tears spilling from her eyes. He met her gaze, knowing the same devastation she wore on her visage was reflected back to her on his own. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her in tightly, automatically, like some kind of machine. She grabbed the lapels of the coat he wore and buried her face in his chest, moaning like a wounded animal. “It was just a headache.” Her tears soaked his shirt. “It was just a headache. How could this happen? I don’t understand!” 

He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t offer her any sort of comfort beyond holding her as he was now because he didn’t understand either. Between Eton, Cambridge, and the Royal Navy, he’d been trained for everything the life of a gentleman had to offer. But he’d never been trained for this.

She pulled back suddenly, the cry falling from her lips coming from the depths of her soul. 

“WHYYYYYYYY??!!”

Just as suddenly as she pulled back from him, she collapsed in his arms, bringing them both to the floor. He stared, unseeing, at the far wall, wondering why he wasn’t crying. He was numb and his body felt heavy, like his very soul had been crushed. Killian’s internal cry echoed Emma’s.

Why?

~*~*~

“Could she be with child?” 

Killian sat behind Liam’s desk, and blinked at the question posed to him by Lord Isaac, a short and thin man who rather reminded Killian of a rat. The representative of the Committee for Privileges of the House of Lords had a self-important air about him that grated on Killian’s nerves. Liam hadn’t been gone - he still couldn’t bring himself to say or even think the truth - twenty-four hours and here was this bastard, demanding an audience and droning on about some sacred duty to the crown. He turned his attention back to Lord Isaac, his brow furrowed.

“What did you say?”

“Her ladyship,” he repeated, enunciating each syllable carefully, as if Killian had no idea of whom he spoke. “If she’s carrying, it will make things… difficult.”

“I don’t know,” he said, enunciating his own words just as carefully. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this right now. “I haven’t asked her.”

“You need to.” The man sniffed indignantly. “I’m sure you’re eager to assume control of your new holdings, but before you can do that, we must determine if she’s carrying. Furthermore, if she is, a member of our committee will need to be present at the birth.”

Killian was stunned. There was no other word for it. “I beg your pardon?” He was amazed he was able to get the words out.

“Baby switching,” Lord Isaac said grimly, with all seriousness. “There have been instances…”

“For God’s sake…” Killian interrupted, scrubbing his hand down his face.

“It’s for your own protection as much as anyone’s,” Lord Isaac assured him. “If she were to give birth to a girl, and no one is there to witness it, what’s to stop her from switching the babe with a boy?”

Killian couldn’t bring himself to dignify that with any kind of response.

“You need to find out if she’s carrying,” Lord Isaac insisted. “Arrangements will have to be made.”

“She was widowed yesterday,” Killian bit out. “I will not burden her with such intrusive questions.”

“There is more at stake here than her ladyship’s feelings,” Lord Isaac continued, haughtily. “We cannot properly transfer the earldom while there is doubt as to the succession.”

“The devil take the earldom,” Killian snapped.

Lord Isaac drew back in visible horror. “You forget yourself, my Lord.”

“I am not your lord,” Killian growled. “I’m not anyone’s…” He stopped suddenly, realizing almost too late that he was perilously close to tears. He glared at the man in front of him, trying to stave them off. This little weasel, who didn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t just an Earl who had died, but a man. 

His brother.

He expected that as soon as the abhorrent little rodent left, the door was locked behind him, and Killian was sure no one would observe him, the tears would finally come. 

“Someone has to ask her,” Lord Isaac said.

“It won’t be me,” Killian murmured.

“Then I will.”

Killian could take it no longer and was out of the chair like a shot, grabbing Isaac by the lapels of his jacket, pushing him against the wall before the man could even blink.

“You will not approach Lady Kilmartin,” he growled, menacingly. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the damnable man choked out. Killian realized he was turning an alarming shade of purple, so he stepped back, releasing him.

“Get out.”

“You’ll need to…”

“Get out!” Killian roared.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, when you’re in a more calm frame of mind.” The man left quickly with as much dignity as he could muster and Killian closed the door firmly behind him, turning the lock before he returned to the desk.

He dropped his head into his hands and a single tear finally spilled over and tracked down his face. His chest was tight and his throat felt so narrow, it was a wonder he could breathe at all. A gasping sob escaped him and the dam broke. Killian’s anguish poured from him in a seemingly endless tide, the tears streaming down his face, soaking the loosened cravat he wore and the shirt underneath.

How had it come to this? Yes, as long as Liam and Emma had remained childless, he was second in line to the earldom. But no one seriously expected him to inherit. Liam was barely thirty and the picture of health. 

Word had already reached him that men at the club were calling Killian the luckiest man in Britain. What no one realized was that he’d never wanted this. He’d never wanted the earldom. He wanted his brother. 

And no one seemed to understand that.

Except Emma. Her devastation equaled his own, he knew. 

They’d put her to bed last night, him and her mother, Ruth, who’d arrived quickly after his urgent summons, and she’d slept soundly all night, too worn out from the shock of it all. Killian knew, because he’d spent the night opposite the large bed where Emma slept, in one of the chairs where he imagined Liam and Emma taking their morning coffee before starting their days. He couldn’t bear to leave her or be alone with his own thoughts.

When she woke this morning, he could see the moment she remembered the events of the night before. Her eyes landed on him and he saw a moment of alarm, surprise, confusion, and then finally realization. He stood on shaky legs as her eyes filled with tears. They only lasted a moment, however. He watched as a firm resolve took over her gaze, her movements choppy and stilted as she swiped away the evidence of her anguish.

He grudgingly admired her for that and stood before her helpless to do anything useful. What were they to do? Neither of them was prepared for this. They were young, happy, carefree. They’d never dealt with death before and all the myriad details involved with it.

Who would have guessed the Committee for Privileges would get involved? And demand a front row seat to an event that should be a private moment for Emma. If indeed she was with child. Which he was not going to ask her.

“We must inform Alice,” she said.

“Of course,” he murmured. Why he hadn’t thought of that, he’d never know. Their mother would be equally devastated.

“I’ll write the note.” 

Killian could only nod, wondering what he was supposed to do. The answer became apparent when Lord Isaac arrived. But he couldn’t think about that now, all that he stood to gain since Liam was gone. There was nothing good about Liam being gone. And if anyone dared to offer him congratulations…

His tears spent, Killian lifted his head and stared sightlessly out the window. He hadn’t wanted this. Had he?

He only wanted Emma. But not like this. Not at this cost.

He’d never coveted Liam’s title. The money or power.

He’d only ever coveted Liam’s wife.

And now he stood to gain everything that had been Liam’s. Except his wife. Guilt wrapped itself around his heart and threatened to strangle him. 

He didn’t want this. He’d never wanted this.

“Killian?” Her soft knock and voice drew his attention to the door. The locked door. He rose and moved toward it, making no effort to hide his grief. He unlocked and opened the door and she stood there, as thin but strong as a young birch tree, her face pale, her green eyes round as saucers and beyond exhausted.

“I’ve sent a note to your mother,” she murmured. “Is there anyone else…”

Killian shook his head slowly. He knew he should say something to her, but his mind just refused to give him anything. He was too broken, too grief stricken. Just like the woman in front of him.

He gently took her elbow. “You should sit down. You look exhausted.”

Emma shook her head, even as she allowed him to lead her into the room and toward a chair. 

“I can’t,” she murmured. “I can’t stop. If I do…” She shook her head. “If I don’t stop, I don’t have to think. And if I don’t have to think…” she trailed away and her eyes filled with tears again. It didn’t matter. He understood perfectly.

Then she turned her eyes upon him and her mouth opened like she had something to say. He steeled himself against the despair in her eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

~*~*~

Seemingly overnight, Kilmartin House in London changed. 

First, Alice Jones arrived from Scotland. 

Second, Emma’s own mother, Ruth Nolan was a much more frequent guest than she’d been when Liam was alive. 

Third, Killian was a much less frequent guest than when Liam was alive. 

And Emma wasn’t sure she’d survive that last one.

Of course, it was a comfort to see her mother-in-law. They got along well and Emma loved her. And she’d known the grief of losing her husband. But now she’d lost her son, and in many ways was in as much need of comfort as Emma herself.

And of course her own mother was also a comforting presence, having also been widowed young, but Killian was the one she needed. Killian was the one who knew and loved Liam best, besides herself of course, and Killian was the one who most understood what she was going through.

He still came to visit occasionally, but when he did, he didn’t feel there. Not like he was when Liam was alive. His eyes were distant and he didn’t come anywhere near her, beyond what propriety demanded when greeting her or taking his leave - a formal bow, a slight brush of her knuckles with his lips, murmured words she could barely hear. He wasn’t the same.

And it was killing her.

But, she reminded herself, he was hurting, too. 

She reminded herself of it when she didn’t know what to say to him. She reminded herself of it when he didn’t tease her. She reminded herself of it when they sat together in the parlor and neither had anything to say.

She’d lost her husband. And she’d lost her best friend at the same time.

She was lonely. And so sad. Why had no one told her how sad she’d be? But would she have believed them? Of course not. There was no understanding this kind of grief without experiencing it for herself. 

Killian was the one link to the husband she’d lost - who’d loved him as she did - and she hated him for being here, but not being here. To walk beside her in their mutual grief. So they could be a comfort to each other.

It never occurred to her that in losing Liam, she might lose Killian, too.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Alice’s gentle question drew Emma from her musings. She blinked, momentarily unable to really comprehend the question, much less answer it.

“Uh, fine,” she said after a moment, with a slight shake of her head. The soft smile on the face of her mother-in-law, coupled with the joyful sadness in her eyes, prompted a small smile from herself as well. It brought home the fact that while Alice had lost her first born, the fact that Emma was carrying a piece of him brought a measure of peace to her grieving heart. “No different than I ever have.”

Alice sat down across from her and folded her hands in her lap. “It’s remarkable. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“If it wasn’t for my missing courses, I’d never know anything was different.” And it was true. She’d been around enough pregnant women to know what to expect in the early weeks and months, and the only thing she was experiencing that might be a symptom of early pregnancy was that she was a bit more tired. But, of course, that could be the grieving as well. Her mother had told her she’d been tired for a year after her father passed. Emma experienced none of the expected quirks and illnesses other women had told her about.

She’d be happy to be losing what little breakfast she was actually eating each morning, if only so she could imagine the little one waving, hello, I’m here!

“I wonder if Killian will be visiting today?” Alice mused.

“He hasn’t been here in three days,” Emma murmured, “So I expect he will.” She’d never admit to counting the days between his visits, but she had been, and he was due for his bi-weekly visit.

“He’s grieving Liam,” Alice said softly.

“So am I.” Her voice was a bit sharper than she’d have liked. “So are you.”

“But it’s different for him,” she continued. “He’s a bit in limbo until you deliver. And that’s still six months away.”

“Well, I can’t do anything about that.”

“Of course not,” she replied. “I just hope that he begins thinking about the future soon. If you do deliver a girl, he’ll have to marry and produce an heir.”

Emma scoffed. “Killian will do what has to be done, but he’d never marry while he’s still grieving Liam and it’d be dreadfully unfair to expect him to.”

“Of course,” Alice agreed. “I just so want him to be happy. Even with Liam gone.” She sighed forlornly.

It was odd. Emma wanted Killian to be happy, too, but imagining him married was rather hard to picture. Of course, it hadn’t stopped her from trying to push Killian in that direction. But if she was really honest with herself, he just didn’t seem the type. For years, she’d had Liam and Killian had been their rather constant companion. Could she be happy for him if he found love and happiness and she remained alone? Was her heart big enough?

She was tired and feeling a bit weak as well. She stood, grasping the arm of the chair when a sudden wave of dizziness came over her. 

“I think I’ll lay down for a nap,” she said. “Wake me when Killian comes, if you please.”

“Of course, my dear. That’s a very good idea. You need your rest.” A sudden gasp escaped Alice and Emma saw that she wasn’t looking at her, but at the seat she just rose from. 

There in the middle of the cushion was a small patch of red.

Blood.

~*~*~

Killian stared at the almost full bottle of rum sitting on his desk. His life would have been much more bearable if that amount of alcohol was enough to get him drunk. But unfortunately, Killian was blessed with quite a robust constitution and could hold his liquor with aplomb and grace. 

He glanced outside the window to see it was still some hours from sunset. Also unfortunately, he couldn’t make himself override the good manners and etiquette Alice had instilled in him from the time he was a small boy that refused to let him get bosky before the sun set. 

He tapped his fingers against the desk and wondered what he ought to do with himself. Liam had been gone for nearly two months now, and he hadn’t yet brought himself to move into Kilmartin House, still living in his modest apartments a few blocks away. According to Lord Isaac, whose lectures he was eventually forced to endure, the title would go into abeyance until Emma delivered. And if she gave birth to a girl, then the title and everything with it would be his. But given that that event was still six months away, Killian felt he could get away with not taking up residence in the earl’s house. He told himself he didn’t want to move in only to have to move out again in six months.

But the truth was something else entirely. He wasn’t sure he could survive living under the same roof as Emma. 

She was still living in the house. She was still the Countess of Kilmartin. And would be until she gave birth to a girl and he married. Which he was absolutely not inclined to do.

Because even if he did end up as the earl, Emma wouldn’t be his countess, and that knowledge was enough to make him seriously think about damning etiquette to hell and downing that entire bottle of rum between now and sunset.

He would have thought his grief would have overtaken the longing in his heart for Emma, that he could be near her and not want her so much he could barely breathe. But no. His heart still ached with the pain of loving her. Even being in the same room with her caused his breath to hitch and his heart to race. 

And now, all that longing was intertwined with a suffocating guilt. As if there hadn’t been enough of that when Liam was alive. 

Emma was in pain. Grieving. And he should be there comforting her. Who could better do so? No one had known Liam better than he did. The two people who knew and loved him best should be comforting one another in their loss. But no, instead of comforting her, he was lusting after her. What kind of bastard lusted after his sister-in-law, his pregnant sister-in-law, when his brother wasn’t even cold in his grave?

Him, apparently. 

And so he stayed away. Not completely. He couldn’t get away with that, not with his mother in residence at Kilmartin House. In addition, although the title wasn’t potentially to be his for another six months, everyone was looking to him to manage the affairs of the earl. 

It was the least he could do. For Liam. For Emma.

He may not be able to be her friend at the moment, but he could make sure her finances were in order.

She didn’t understand. And he knew she didn’t. She’d often come to visit him when he was working in the study of Kilmartin House - going over various solicitor’s and land steward’s reports - looking for their previous camaraderie, he knew, but which he was unable to give. Not yet.

“My lord?”

Killian looked up at the door to see his valet, Smee, and a footman wearing the unmistakable green and gold livery of Kilmartin house.

“A message from your mother,” the man said, approaching with an envelope in his outstretched hand. “She said it was urgent.”

His brows rose on his head. Urgent? That was new. His mother had sent him nearly daily missives, or it seemed like it anyway, but they were never more than just prattling on about the doings at Kilmartin House. She was likely just trying to keep herself busy.

Once Smee and the footman left the room, he opened the letter.

Come quickly, it said. Emma has lost the baby.

~*~*~

Killian himself was nearly killed several times, not to mention the numerous pedestrians who were in his way, as he raced on horseback to Kilmartin House.

But now he stood here in the foyer, holding his crying mother, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

A miscarriage they called it. It seemed like such a small word for such a profound happening. And why had they called him? This was the province of women and doctors. Of which, he was neither. What could he possibly do?

But then it hit him. He was the earl.

Slowly but surely over the last two months, Killian had been stepping into Liam’s shoes. And now that process was complete. The final nail in the coffin, so to speak. 

It took nary a thought to murmur comforting nonsense to his mother as he led her to the downstairs parlor, her sobs abating. 

“It’s like losing Liam all over again,” she whispered.

“I know,” he agreed. And he did. While Emma had been pregnant, a small piece of Liam still existed on this earth. And while he wasn’t yet prepared to step fully into Liam’s shoes, by the time she delivered, he would have been, and he would have done everything duty demanded. For Liam, his child, for Emma.

But he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t. Not yet.

That last fragile link to Liam was snapped and he was right back where he was two months ago.

“How is she?” he asked.

“In shock,” she answered quietly. “She’s been crying. She can’t seem to stop. She asked for you.”

Killian’s head snapped toward his mother.

“Me? Why?”

Alice’s face was surprised. “She wanted you.”

“But… I can’t…” he stammered.

“Yes, you can.” His mother looked confused at his refusal. “You have to,” she insisted.

Killian shook his head vehemently, his hands starting to tremble. “I can’t go in there.”

“You can’t abandon her!”

“I’m not! I didn’t!” he cried, the grief breaking free. “Liam abandoned her! Liam abandoned me!” he shouted. His voice shocked him. He sounded like a wounded animal - pained, panicked, confused. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “She was never mine to abandon!”

“Killian George Alaster Jones!” his mother cried, shocked. “How can you say such a thing?”

“Mother,” he all but moaned. “She needs a woman. What can I do?”

“You can be her friend,” she said softly.

“No. I can’t. Not yet.” The anguish on his mother’s face was real and he knew his was the same. In a move of utter and pathetic cowardice, he rose and ran from the room. 

~*~*~

If there truly were nine circles of Hell, then in the month since he’d taken on his duties, Killian surely must have taken up residence in one of the lower levels of Hell on earth. With every new ceremony, each document he signed as Kilmartin, and every “my lord” he was forced to endure, it was as if Liam's spirit was being pushed further and further away.

Everything that had been Liam’s was now his. 

Except Emma.

And Killian was determined to keep it that way. He would not bring that last insult to bear against his brother’s memory. He’d seen her, of course. And offered his best words of comfort. Which were, truthfully, woefully inadequate. And both he and Emma knew it. 

He’d been more relieved that she was physically unharmed than upset over the loss of the child. But he couldn’t very well say that.

Their mothers, for some reason, felt compelled to describe the event in gruesome detail, a chamber maid trotting out the bloodied sheets as proof that Lady Kilmartin had indeed lost the baby. Lord Isaac had nodded in approval when presented with the evidence, but had then added that Lady Kilmartin would still need to be observed closely for the next few months to be sure she was not increasing. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried to circumvent the sacred laws of primogeniture, he’d asserted.

The rage inside Killian at that statement nearly propelled him to pick up Lord Isaac bodily and throw him out the window, but he managed to control himself by the most tenuous of grips.

He still hadn’t moved into Kilmartin House. He knew it was expected, but the circumstances at the house hadn’t changed, and Killian still couldn’t bring himself to live in the same house as the woman he loved.

Who now stood at the threshold of his study. She looked thin and pale, but her green eyes flashed.

“Emma?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

He was shocked. He couldn’t deny it. She’d never been here. Not when Liam was alive. And certainly not after.

“I wanted to see you.” The rest of her statement, her accusation really, went unspoken. You’ve been avoiding me.

Was this improper? He hadn’t a clue. Their relationship now was so different and ambiguous, he couldn’t guess what rules of etiquette applied. He motioned to a seat and she took it, her fingers twisting in her lap. 

She finally looked at him, her gaze intense, grief and anger swirling in their depths.

“I’ve missed you.” Make that an even lower level of hell.

“Emma…” he tried.

“You are… were… my friend,” she said, angrily, swiping at the tear that tracked down her face. “Besides Liam, you were my closest friend!”

Emma, I…” he tried again. He was a fool. And a coward. And he didn’t know what to say to her.

“Where have you been?” 

“I…” He was speechless. Brought down by an angry and grief-stricken face, and a mountain of guilt. Although guilt for exactly what, he couldn’t pinpoint any longer. It came from too many sources to make sense of anymore.

“I needed you.” The plaintive need in her voice nearly undid him. “You knew him best. You loved him the most, besides me. Why didn’t you come and help me?”

Killian looked down at his desk. He couldn’t lie to her. But he couldn’t tell her the truth either.

“I don’t know,” he settled upon instead. She was quiet and Killian couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.

“That’s it then,” she whispered. 

“I guess so,” he replied sadly. The sadness threatened to consume him. In the eyes of the ton, he may have gained much, but in reality, he’d lost everything. And the one person who needed him the most… he couldn’t be what she needed. He couldn’t stand to be near her. Because the grief and the anger and the love and the guilt were a never ending flood, and he was drowning.

The ticking clock on the mantle was the only accompaniment to her swirling thoughts. She looked at Killian and took in his tense shoulders, his rigid bearing, the unbridled grief on his countenance mirroring hers. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he finally said, taking a tentative step toward her. Then another. Then another. Then he was kneeling before her, his hand on her knee. “I’m so, so sorry, Emma.”

“Why did this happen?” she cried. “I don’t understand!” The tears poured from her eyes and Killian gathered her into his arms. “It isn’t fair!” She clutched at his jacket, holding on for dear life as all the grief, all the anger, all the confusion that she thought she’d already released burst forth from her all over again.

“It isn’t fair that it happened to me!” she lamented. “It isn’t fair that this happens to anyone! Oh, what am I to do?”

“I don’t know.” She could just hear him murmuring into her hair and placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. And the comfort she felt from him holding her was almost more than she could bear. For the first time in months, she felt safe and warm. And not alone.

Her tears finally spent, she pulled back from him. 

“Will you come back? To Kilmartin House?” she asked, her voice shaky. “Will you stop ignoring me? I still need you.”

She could see the tears in his own eyes, grief and something else she couldn’t identify, as she waited for him to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t know what to say to you. Didn’t know what I could do, so I stayed away.”

“I know,” she said quietly, looking down at her lap. She still clutched at him, unable to let him go, or the warmth and safety he gave. “I knew that’s why you were staying away, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” He released her and stood, even as her arms reached for him again. “I’ll take up my residence in Kilmartin House.”

He could deny her nothing. And living under the same roof couldn’t possibly be any worse than what he’d already had to endure. And if it was, and it did actually kill him, then so be it.

“Thank you. That will… that will be a great comfort to me. And your mother as well.” She paused for a moment and rose. “You know, you were to be his father, in a way.”

Killian felt the blood drain from his face and his heart stop. 

“What did you say?” The words were soft, weak, he could barely catch his breath to get them out.

“The baby,” she replied, turning toward him. “In the absence of his father, you’d have been the closest thing he had. And even with him gone, having you here will help me let him go. Let them both go.”

But Killian didn’t hear those last words. His heart started beating again at a gallop and the blood rushed in his ears. All he could grasp from her statement was that he would have been a father to the baby, and that knowledge destroyed him. 

The title, the lands, the money, the power, the responsibility were all his now. The only things that weren’t were Liam’s wife and child. And now Emma was telling him that wasn’t true either.

He grabbed Emma by the arms. He was shaking, and she looked frightened but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t let her go.

“No!” he cried. “I can’t! I won’t! I’m not Liam!”

“Of course you’re not,” Emma cried out, thoroughly alarmed at the sudden change that had come over Killian. She’d never seen him like this. His eyes were glazed and unseeing, his grip on her arms painful, but her words to try and reach him, to get him to release her, fell on deaf ears. He looked wild, crazed, like a cornered animal that would either make a last desperate attack to try and save itself, or fall over and wait for the final killing blow.

“You can’t ask this of me,” he breathed, the strength and energy that fueled him, completely disappearing. He still held her tightly, but his eyes were finally seeing her and not some vision playing out in his mind. “I can’t do it.”

“Killian, you’re hurting me,” she whispered. “Please let me go.” He released her suddenly, the recrimination in his eyes and the restored blood flow in her arms bringing tears to her eyes.

“I’d… I’d better go,” she said, pulling away from him. She looked at him for a moment more, trying to make sense out of what just happened. She’d never seen Killian like that before and it frightened her. She wasn’t afraid of him, though. Even after that, she knew with utter surety that he would never harm her and would protect her to his last breath.

“Perhaps… perhaps it would be better if you remained here instead of Kilmartin House.”

“Y- yes,” he stammered, nodding with a jerky motion. “I think that would be best.” 

Not only had she lost Liam, and her child, but it was now clear she’d lost Killian as well. And she didn’t quite know what she would do about that.

~*~*~

Once Emma was gone, Killian sat back down behind his desk and poured himself a tall drink.

He’d made a promise to her and broken it almost in the same breath. He’d spent the last month fulfilling the duties of the earl and then Emma’s words made him realize something.

She truly had no inkling of his feelings for her, and as long as that was the case, as long as she didn’t understand how much he hated himself for every step he took in Liam’s shoes, he couldn’t be near her. 

And that brought him to a decision. Rarely in life had his path been this clear. He slammed back the rum and rose from his desk. When he arrived at his bedchamber, he found his valet carefully folding a cravat.

“Smee,” he asked. “What do you think of India?”

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you thought! Next ch will be up on Saturday!

#a scoundrel… or a gentleman? #krystal writes #inspired by francesca bridgerton’s story #art by motherkatereloyshipper

[taybay14]

Piece by Piece

This is an entirely self-indulgent Bucky-recovery fic that follows Bucky from his time as the Asset in CA:WS (mostly canon compliant until very end) to him recovering himself while in the Tower with lots of Avengers support/love. Chapter 1 is all CA:WS from Bucky’s POV - it’s written in a slightly different style than the rest of the fic to showcase Bucky’s mindset, just as a heads up. Chapter 2 is when the divergence happens.

This is inspired by the delightful artwork by @skullfragments (see chapter 9) - I immediately loved the art piece and knew I wanted to write what was clearly a fun/happy moment between Steve/Bucky (with Alpine in the background, thinking these humans are idiots). I’m apparently a sadist though because I decided to make them earn their happiness first. Angst with a happy ending - my specialty. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it <3 And thank you again to skullfragments, not just for the great art but for reading along the way and letting me bounce ideas off of you! It was such a fun/collaborative experience working with you!

Summary below:

Steve and Bucky are discovered on the bank of the Potomac & brought to Stark Tower. From the beginning, everyone has one thing on their mind: Help Bucky. It’s going to be hard, but they're ready to give it everything they’ve got - and they’re the Avengers, so they’ve got quite a lot.

***

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says, his voice soft. Bucky lays on his side, pressing a cheek to the soft carpeting, wishing he hadn’t ruined all his blankets. He hates feeling cold and it’s a little cold in his room. “You don’t have to talk or come out or anything, but… I’m going to lay here, okay? All night. I’m going to stay right here so you don’t forget that it’s different now. So you don't forget that you’re safe. You’re not alone.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that. Even if he did know, his tongue is doing that heavy-sticky thing again. Instead, he slides his flesh fingers under the crack in the door, barely able to fit the tips, and waits. A moment passes. Then Steve’s fingers are pressing right back.

And maybe Steve is right. Maybe things are different, maybe he is safe, maybe he’s not alone.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll be able to get himself back after all, piece by piece.

#bucky barnes #steve and bucky #steve x bucky #steve rogers #captain america #captain america winter soldier #the winter soldier #the avengers #mcu fanart #mcu bucky barnes #mcu steve rogers #stucky fanfiction #stucky fanart #stucky #stuckybang2024

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

Indisposed (Noah Sebastian fanfic) chapter 2

Autor's note: gfhjkfjhfnfm tysm for all the love i got so fast for the prologue and chapter one, means sm to me <3

18+

chapter two

Noah smirks as he sees me trying my best to look annoyed at him, before starting to follow me towards the exit. 

`Well, I’ll probably be knocked out as soon as I hit my bed. Thank you for his fun night, Noah,´ I say to him when we walk towards our hotel through the chilly night, and mean it. I haven’t felt this loose and myself since a while, even though drinks got involved. I don’t drink or act really crazy, or spontaneous around everyone, but with Noah, that trust has grown enough to show it throughout the half a year of working for him and the band.

He smiles at me while he walks next to me, nodding. `No need to thank me,  I almost feel like I should be the one to thank you, because I can’t remember the last time a girl has been this flirtatious to me while being drunk…´

`Oh please. It’s not my fault that I am a lightweight,´ I say while rolling my eyes, also kinda embarrassed by that fact. While we talk our bodies begin to walk closer towards each other, and I enjoy the heath of his body because of the cold air against the exposed bits of my body because of my not that long, black dress.

Noah lets out a soft chuckle. `Well, it’s also not my fault that you’re so lightweight and fun to flirt with while being tipsy and getting drunk,´ he says, a sassy and flirty grin on his face.

`No, it’s not. I can’t blame you,´ I shrug with a sly smile on my face.

`Maybe I should give it a shot and drink as much as you did tonight and see how you cope with how flirtatious I can get then,´ he also shrugs.

`Even more than you already are? Is that even possible?´ I ask whilst pretending to sound shocked.

`Well, I think we should really find out, shouldn’t we?´ he teasingly asks back, bumping his hips slightly against mine.

I shake my head with a giggle. `Fine. As long as you pay for the drinks coming out of the fridge from my hotel room.´

`Okay, cool, I’ll pay for them,´ he says with a sly smile, moving a bit closer so our limbs are slightly touching. 

When we approach the hotel, I stumble a little before the entrance, giggling when Noah needs to catch me. `Oopsie.´

While getting me to stand up straight again, Noah still has his arms around me, holding me as he speaks to me, laughing. `Careful, sweetheart. You’re really not good when you get drunk,´ he says, jokingly.

`Not true, I am good at a lot of things, just wait,´ I slur, not even fully realizing what I’m saying.

When we talk-and I am still almost falling over my own feet every few seconds-Noah even has to check in and identify us both… Which is slightly embarrassing, even while being drunk to be honest. His security is still around and makes sure we get in safe, and I wave a little too enthusiastically at the two tall men who just sheepishly smile back at me with a small nod. God, I’m gonna regret this tomorrow, so, so much. In the corner of my eyes, I see Noah chuckle now and then, shaking his head slightly. At least one of us finds it funny.

`You wanna bet on that, Hailey?´ he continues our conversation while we walk through the hallways from the hotel, leading us to our doors. 

`Sure. I am positive that I can be at my door faster than you are,´ I say, and I laugh out loud when I kick my heels off, grabbing them afterwards and start running away through the hallway.

`That’s quite a confident statement from a tipsy girl like you,´ I hear Noah say with a little laugh through his voice, hearing that he starts running after me.

I begin to laugh even harder, knowing that I probably wake up a lot of people because of what we’re doing and the giggles escaping from my mouth, but at this moment I honestly don’t really care. I really enjoy having this fun with Noah-I haven’t had this fun with someone for quite some time, being quite busy with my job the last few months.

Sometimes I do miss my friends back home, but whenever I can, I make sure to text and call them, telling them all about the crazy things I go through since I have this job and smiling and laughing along when they tell me about their stories, especially when mentioning people I also know. I really have to go visit them some time soon when the band has a little break in between the tour. 

`You think that you’re gonna be able to outspeed a guy who’s constantly running on tour though?´ he flirtatiously says as he continues trying to catch up with me, his hands now in the pockets of his jeans when I look over my shoulder, him continuing following behind me.

`Oh no, sorry mister speed of light,´ I chuckle jokingly and almost slam my body against my hotel door once we reach it, realizing a little too late that I’m already standing in front of it. I giggle and try to get in by unlocking the door with my keycard, but my mind is starting to kinda spin so it doesn’t really work. 

  `Oh my god,´ I hear Noah say behind me with a giggle. I feel my cheeks turn red.

`Goddamnit,´ I mutter underneath my breath, and when I hear the door finally click to unlock the door after what seems the fifth time trying, I can get inside. 

`Bed!´ is the first thing I yell when I immediately jump on my king sized hotel bed and deeply sigh after. `Bed is so soft.´

I hear Noah laugh out loud. `You seem a little too excited to get on this bed, huh? Is it that comfy? Or are you just too drunk?´

`It’s probably both,´ I shrug, and sit up straight again, looking at him standing at the door opening, his hands still in the pockets of his hands and a big grin on his face, the twinkle in his eyes that appeared since the afterparty never leaving his dark eyes so far. `Thank you for bringing me safely back to my room though,´ I kindly and smile thankfully at him.

He nods at me, returning the smile back at me, but it’s still being playful at the same time. `No problem. As much as I enjoyed teasing you a lot on the way here, I’m also glad that I brought you back safely.´

`I currently hate how tight my dress feels,´ I blur out, tugging at the fabric. He raises an eyebrow at the sudden change of conversation, probably noticing how much I’m having trouble keeping a straight track of thought in my mind right now.

`I should probably change into something better,´ I say after that, biting my lip and looking a bit awkwardly around me. It’s not even an excuse to make him leave and leave me alone or something, I truly hate how this dress starts to suffocate my body. `So…´

`Oh? Change into ‘something better’? What might that be, then?´ he asks teasingly, and I roll my eyes.

`Yes, it’s starting to feel a little uncomfortable,´ I say while scratching my neck. `So that something better will most definitely be pajamas.´

He takes a few steps into the hotel room, casually while doing so. `So you’re gonna change into your pajamas right now?´ he asks, letting out a small laugh as he speaks, still in that teasing and slightly flirtatious tone again. I know damn well what he is doing, and God it’s so tempting to give right away.

`Yes,´ I chuckle, also trying to challenge him.

`Ah, so you want to change into your pajamas and then tell me to get out of here so you can sleep?´

`Oh no, I’m not getting changed until after you leave,´ I smirk at him, making him raise his eyebrows again, not saying a thing as he looks into my eyes. ´So, goodnight Noah, and thank you again for everything.´

He takes a step back and looks away, the sudden pout saying that he is slightly annoyed at my request. Ha, it’s working. `Hm. Okay, fine, I’ll leave.´

´Sleep well Noah. And don’t be late for your make up and dressing tomorrow,´ I wink at him, making him shoot me a teasing glance. 

He raises his eyebrows while he is still moving towards the door, saying: `Okay, fine… I’ll try to. But I'll definitely be thinking about you tonight, y´know.´

My cheeks of course get goddamn colored once again when he says that, and I try to shrug it off. `Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.´ After saying that I suddenly look at my phone that lays next to me on my bed, with a worried frown. `I just hope I won’t do too much dumb stuff with my phone.´

`So, what's with that big worry? Are you worried that you might send dumb text messages to people while you’re still pretty drunk?´ Noah wants to know, stopping with moving away through the still open door when he is already standing in the hallway, so he leans against the doorpost while crossing his arms in sudden curiosity. 

`It happened before,´ I giggled. `I once texted my dad at 3 am that I was still waiting for chocolate ice cream from him. No idea why. Or, I just send my friends the dumbest selfies. And of course, classically sending it to the wrong person sometimes.´

`Oh my god,´ he chuckles while shaking his head, running a hand through his hair before he stands in the same pose as before again. `So, how drunk were you to be sending your dad a text of you expecting chocolate ice cream?´ He slowly starts walking back towards me and the bed, instead of leaving like he was planning to do.

`I was pretty far from this world,´ I responded to his question with a small giggle. It makes him grin again, and he continues to move back close to me. It makes me forget the uncomfortableness of my dress pretty quickly, so I don’t mind him staying for a little longer. 

`So, with you being pretty far from this world at that moment, did you get so drunk that you couldn’t talk properly anymore at some point too?´

`I think so, yeah. I mean, I could still talk, but it all sounded kinda gibberish probably.´

`Damn, so it wasn’t just your little text that all seemed confusing to people, but when you tried to speak too,´ he laughs while shaking his head, now sitting next to me on the bed. 

`Yeah, I also once years ago called my best friend a few times, and when she picked up she asked me why the hell I was calling her in the middle of the night, and if something was wrong. I basically told her to come over to my place because everything indeed was wrong: I got through my last bag of cookies,´ I told him, laughing while telling the story.

`Everything was wrong because you got through your last bag of cookies? That’s hilarious,´ Noah laughed along with me. `I can imagine how confused and annoyed your friend was when she heard that from you from those hours… Or maybe she just laughed it off?´

`She was a little pissed at first, but when I started crying because of my bag being empty, she was the one laughing actually,´ I chuckle.

`You were actually crying over your last bag of cookies? So… So you sat there in tears after you found out? Did you seriously get all upset about that?´ Noah continued laughing, and the story became ten times funnier to us, I guess through the alcohol. 

`Hey, they are the best white chocolate-chip cookies ever made!´ I defend myself. `You would cry as well.´

`Oh my god… Well, now you’re making me curious to try them,´ he says with a giggle. `Are they really that good? So good that you can’t get enough of them?´

`Absolutely,´ I exclaim, nodding while thinking about them. Damn, in combination with me being drunk, it makes me quite hungry actually.

Noah grins again. `So, you are telling me that you’re already hungry just from thinking about them?´ he adds with a teasing tone.

I again nod. `Fuck yeah I am.´ But after saying that, I slap my hand on my mouth, looking at him with big eyes because I just cured… just to burst out laughing after. Truly, I can be so insanely dumb when I’m drunk-I have cursed in front of him and the band before, just not that often though.

He busts out laughing as well, so we just laugh together like two idiots because I just cursed and how embarrassed I looked after. After our laughter finally quiets down, he still looks into my eyes with his flirty energy.

`So, you’re basically telling me that you want something to eat right now?´

`I would almost kill for those cookies right now, it’s insane,´ I groan, letting myself fall on my back on the hotel bed again.

`You would really kill for them?´ Noah says in a teasing tone, now looking me directly in the eye.

`No of course not, it's a figure of speech,´ I mumble, rubbing in my tired eyes. `But man, I would do almost anything for them right now. I also haven’t had them for years, which is insane to begin with. Like, how did I survive so long without them? Am I insane?´ I drunkenly ramble on. God, I can’t stop talking about those damn cookies for some reason. But just thinking about their taste, their crumb… it is very much driving me insane right now.

`Are you now questioning your entire existence just because you haven’t had these cookies for years?´ Noah chuckles. Yeah, I most definitely must sound like some insane person to him now-great.

`Well… Maybe. Noah, you don’t understand-the chocolate inside of the cookies melt on your tongue when you eat them. On your goddamn tongue! Chocolate!  I would drink a whole ass fountain of that particular chocolate.´

`Oh my god, you’re really describing these delicious white chocolate chip cookies so vividly right now… Can you like, also tell me what the smell is like?... Is it an intoxicating aroma like that of the greatest things you have ever smelled? That when you take them out of the oven for example, the whole entire house would smell like vanilla, white chocolate, and the most delicious aromas ever?´

I almost moan when Noah says that, kicking with my feet in frustration. `Stop it, Noah.´

`What, you don’t like it when I also bring up the delicious scent while describing how these amazing cookies of yours taste?  Is it making you go insane now, wanting them even more?´ he says with a grin, obviously teasing me like hell, moving to lay next to me on the bed while still looking at me with that ridiculously attractive flirty smile of his.

`Oh shut up, you’re doing this on purpose,´ I mutter while slightly hitting his arm with my fist.

`Well obviously… why wouldn’t I?´ he asks with a playful grin.

`Also…´ I roll over to Noah, so I can face him. `Why are you still here? Like, you brought me here safely to my room and now that I told you about my secret amazing cookies that I love so much, you could literally buy them yourself and eat them. Do something I can’t.´ I almost pout when I finish my sentence.

`Oh, is this my cue to leave? Is this the hint that you’re giving me?´ Noah asks with a chuckle, looking right back at me with his head turned to mine. `Well, unfortunately for you I don’t listen very well to those hints when someones as drunk as you are right now. So, I’m gonna stay here with you for a little bit more.´

I groan, rolling on my back again. `I am a grown, independent woman, I can take care of myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve been drunk, you know that now.´ I close my eyes. `I think I’m gonna shower anyway. I probably stink and I feel… I don’t know. I just want to feel warm water on my body I guess.´

`Hm… is that you saying that you want me to come with you in the shower?´ Noah says teasingly, in an extra questioning tone added to it.  

I roll my eyes, standing up, making me stumble a little. `Nice try, Sebastian.´

I grab a white hotel towel and walk towards the shower, and say over my shoulder: `Well, thank you for getting me to my room safely, Noah. I  am really going to shower now, so… I don’t know, do whatever you want here in the meantime since I know you’re not gonna leave.´

I shut the bathroom door behind me after saying that, sighing through my nose for a second, really aching for the warm water and feeling a bit nauseous. I turn on the shower and let the water turn warm while getting out of my dress and underwear, before getting under it. I close my eyes in relief for a second when I feel the warm water streaming down my hair and body; I really needed this. I begin washing my hair, splashing my face with water to stay at least a little awake for a bit more, and soap my body after. 

`Jesus Christ, dance a little less intense the next time Hailey, you stink,´ I mutter to myself when I let the water hit my body again when the soap washes off my body. Me and Noah dancing starts playing in my head again, making me feel hot not just because of the water of the shower. His gaze, his lips on my neck, it’s still clear on my mind, almost as if they linger on my sensitive skin again, creating a pang in my stomach full of desire and nerves all at once. It was intense, and such a holy feeling already-it got me wondering what else he could make me feel like.

No. I shouldn’t. At least not right now, alone in the shower, and him in the room next to me. 

I sigh, actually not wanting to get out of the shower just yet. But since I don’t want the hotel to charge me extra money, I decide to get out anyway. I quickly wrap the towel that I grabbed earlier around my body and look at myself in the mirror after. My dark chocolate wavy hair is dripping on the floor, and my green eyes… they look wild because of the alcohol, my cheeks slightly red on my tanned skin from it as well. I shrug for a moment, remembering I usually look like this when I’m drunk, and start putting in some hair products to make my hair look a bit prettier before drying it more off.

I grab my toiletbag after, searching for my toothbrush and toothpaste. When I find it, my eyebrows rise and I turn red when I find my… eh, well, my own personal toy in the bag too-I completely forgot that I bought that with me on tour here. I then giggle for a moment, that’s actually pretty fucking funny that I forgot that. I quickly shake my head and start brushing my teeth, but keep staring at the toy while doing so. What I can also forget sometimes, is when I’m drunk… my body is a little bit more hormonal, let’s say it like that. And when I’m done brushing my teeth, I keep looking at the toy. I shake my head once again-no, I truly cannot do this right now.

I mean… I especially also bought it because it’s a very quiet toy. I bite my lip in thought.

Would Noah notice something?

But I almost jump a few feet in the air when I see Noah himself standing at the door opening, leaning against it with his arms crossed and the biggest fucking grin on his face. My hand is on my chest, letting out a big breath. `Jesus fucking Christ, Noah-please knock the next time!´

He of course grins even more. `Don’t tell that you’re already starting to miss me when we were just in the same room minutes ago…´

`What are you talking ab…´ I abruptly stop talking when my eyes follow his, they are on my exposed toy. 

With a quick and clumsy movement, I shove it back into my toiletbag, my cheeks turning red for what seems the hundredth time this night. `You saw absolutely nothing. Okay?´

He laughs when he sees the embarrassment clear on my face, his hands going through his hair. Of course he decides to tease me a little more after. `Oh yeah? What am I supposed to see exactly?´ he asks me, now looking at me with a teasing sparkle in his eyes. Oh God. We have been going back and forth with teasing and making remarks to each other the past half year, but the way he is acting right now, he is definitely making the next move… something I am curious about why now, but also something I have been longing for for quite some time. 

`Nothing, forget about it,´ I quickly mumble, starting to brush my damp hair kinda nervously. Then I realize I’m still just in my towel wrapped around my body, and I look at Noah through the reflection of the bathroom mirror with a raised brow. `I still need to get dressed, y’know.´

Noah looks at me with a smirk through the damp reflection of the mirror as well, seeing my eyes on him as he remains close to the door. `Do you want me to leave the room again?´

`Obviously,´ I say while rolling my eyes, turning around to face him and leaning against the sink with my arms crossed, trying to act cool about all of this. `Sorry, show is over.´

`Ah, really?´ Noah teasingly pouts. `So soon though?´ He moves so he can stand a little closer behind me, his eyes daring and intense. He is playing a game with me, he wants to see how far I’ll go, isn’t he?

I slightly smirk. Okay, if that’s how it’s gonna go, I better play along with it. I stare at him, again through the reflection of the mirror, with the most casual expression on my face as I can manage as I speak. 

`Noah, look. I think it’s better if we keep our relationship professional. Yes, I am indeed sexually frustrated as hell right now, and you could bend me over this sink and take me right there, right now-´ I turn around to face him, shrugging innocently. `But we can’t, I fear. Gotta keep the money rolling for myself, y’know.´

His brows rise with every word I speak, him looking utterly flabbergasted. Ha, checkmate. It looks like his brain stops even more when I smile at him, not knowing what to think or say. His mouth is slightly parted to say something, and my smile turns even bigger. Somehow, it even looks like he is slightly blushing.

`Sooo… I’m just gonna get dressed, I guess. You do you,´ I casually say… and then let my towel drop to my feet.

#noah sebastian bad omens #noah bad omens #noah sebastian smut #noahsebastian #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #badomenscult #badomens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #tumblr fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #romantic #romance #smut #18+ story #18+ content #18+ only

[scoonsalicious]

Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

In the meantime, please enjoy this fourth and final installment of Unwanted: Unusables, or, chapters from the original story that never made it into the final draft. Today, we're looking at the discarded remnants of Chapter 8: (what would become) Unexpected. As a reminder, Jade went by Jewel in those early days, lol. This version of the chapter never got finished, so it ends abruptly and isn't nearly as long as the last two Unusables.

Enjoy!

The morning of Jade's move-in day, you woke up with a pit in your stomach. It wasn't remotely Bucky related-- he had done an excellent job of calming all those fears over the last week (and it certainly helped that his erection was currently pressed into your backside as he nuzzled at your neck); the girl was just mean and you couldn't shake the feeling she'd be a giant pain in your ass.

"What 'cha thinkin' 'bout, doll?" Bucky asked, his voice still thick and coated with sleep. "Can practically hear your teeth grindin' together."

"Sorry," you murmured, turning around in his arms to face him. "Just mentally gearing myself up for the arrival of our new teammate later this morning." You practically gagged on the word "teammate," and Bucky let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose, he said "I'm hopin' it won't turn out as bad as all that, but if it does, I promise I got your back, 'kay? I'll help you beat the shit outta her, 'cause no one messes with my girl."

"Barnes, that might be the sexiest thing that's ever come out of that mouth of yours," you murmured as you leaned in to kiss him.

"Even sexier than this tongue?" he asked, sticking the appendage in question out for your review. "'Cause I know that gets you making all kinds of pretty noises for me."

"Hmm, might have to remind me again what that tongue can do, then I'll let you know if it's sexier than what you just said," you told him with a sly grin.

"Gladly." His smile was feral as he rolled you both over so he was hovering on top of you. He slowly began peppering your face and neck with kisses, working his way down your body. When he'd finally settled himself between your thighs, he looked up at you, blue eyes like sapphires in the morning light. "Better make yourself comfortable, Baby doll. We're gonna be here for awhile."

*

You were the last two to arrive in the common room for Jewel's welcome party, because of course Tony had to make it party. Bucky's arm was wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you in close to him as you whispered something silly and flirty into his ear, causing you both to laugh before sharing a quick kiss.

"Oh, are finally publicly acknowledging this, then?" Tony asked, giving you a knowing look. "Pepper owes me $100 bucks."

You cocked your head. "Not you, too, Boss," you groaned. "Has everyone been placing bets on us?"

The corner of Tony's mouth cocked up in a smile. "Literally everyone. We have a board in one of the lesser-used conference rooms to keep track of the odds and everyone's wagers," he said, raising his tumbler of whiskey to you in mock salute. "Only one who never bet was Rogers, which was odd, because we all figured he'd have an advantage with inside information."

You felt Bucky's arm tense around you and a quick glance to your left showed you his jaw had tightened at the mention of Steve, as well. "Everything okay, Buck?" you asked him.

He looked at you and smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, 's all good, Pocket." He pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

Before you could press the issue further, however, FRIDAY announced that Steve was on his way down to the common room with Jewel.

"We had Cap show her to her suite," Tony offered, "so she could drop off her stuff before heading back down. And my God, did she have a lot of stuff. You'd think we'd invited her to take up permanent residence, not just a three month probie position."

You raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. You didn't like that she was here, but you were intent on playing nice. It was only three months, after all, and you doubted she'd be able to hide her true colors from the rest of the team for that long. You could get through it, especially with Bucky's support.

The elevator doors opened with a ding and soon enough, Steve was leading Jewel into the common room. You had to admit, she looked stunning, her raven hair flowing in loose curls down to her waist, her tight jeans accentuating a figure you'd been previously sure was unobtainable outside of Jessica Rabbit. For a moment, you wished that people could wear their inner ugliness on the outside. Bucky's arm tightened around your shoulder.

"You got this," he whispered into your ear before pressing his lips to your temple. You leaned into him, the press of your body expressing your gratitude, speaking for you when you couldn't find the words to voice your emotions, when the words weren't enough.

You watched Jewel's eyes span the room, as though she were searching for something. Her eyes lit up when they landed on Bucky-- someone-- and she made a beeline straight toward where the two of you stood.

[jessicanjpa]

Still thinking about which patients Carlisle has lost and can never forget...

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

first

Edward is exasperating Carlisle (as usual) by putting him on a pedestal (as usual). An excerpt from this chapter of 1950, Edward POV. (They're talking about Carlisle's self-control as a newborn.)

"Son, what do you think would have happened if that herd of deer hadn't come when it did? You know I was near the breaking point. What if it had been a human family, instead? With children?"

I winced, unable to imagine it. "You would have fed."

"Yes, I would have. And I don't think I ever would have recovered from that; it would have destroyed me. I can easily see how that desolation would have led to a future similar to the one Alice saw you create."

"But it didn't."

"No, but that was the path I was on. All I'm asking is that you acknowledge that you and I wrestle with the same challenges... the same monster, as you call it. Of course I'm pleased you have found some inspiration because of my own life, but please, Edward, don't put me on a pedestal. I've had centuries to work on my self-control, and it's been just as real a struggle as your own." He paused. I'm going to show you something.

His mind blurred backward through time, past the memory he had recently showed of him struggling briefly with his thirst as he stitched up the girl's arm. Now he was standing in the shadows, trembling with desire as he watched a barber extract a tooth with bloodied hands. Another blur, and he was crouching down in the bushes beside a thatched house that held a woman screaming in labor. Now he was standing frozen in the midst of a crowd, oblivious to the shouts going on around him as he stared, watching two boxers beat each other bloody. Now he was kneeling over the body of a soldier who had just been killed, leaning his face close to the wound and taking deep, painful breaths. I saw that last image repeated dozens of times. I knew I would need to desensitize myself to an extreme degree if I had any hope of practicing medicine. Of course there was no such thing as stored blood back then. I had to go and find it, freshly flowing. I went wherever I thought I might find someone bleeding: saloons, sickrooms, battlefields… I put a lot of people in danger, Edward. I don't know if it was the right thing to do.

"I always thought… why haven't you ever showed me these things before?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't want to give you any ideas."

I nodded sheepishly, watching in fascination as he showed me more of these memories. He really had come close to losing it, several times.

"But the worst time wasn't my doing at all," he said. Now I saw the stone walls of Volterra in his memory.

I grimaced. "Feeding time?"

"No. I was always careful to absent myself during that particular ritual. I was studying in the smaller library one day when I suddenly caught the scent of fresh blood out in the hall. A human man was screaming. I assumed it was just someone having a meal. But the door was thrown open…"

He trailed off, letting the memories speak for themselves. The door opened to reveal Aro standing there, a dripping knife in one hand and a thrashing human in the other. He smiled at Carlisle, tossed the human inside, and shut the door. Carlisle flew backwards away from the man, holding his hand over his nose and mouth.

"The man pleaded for help," Carlisle recalled bitterly. "And I knew enough, from the little training I had already had, to try and save him. But I couldn't touch him. I couldn't even do him the kindness of easing his passing. There was just too much blood, and it was so unexpected, and I was untried… I just couldn't. I was sure that if I moved an inch, toward him or toward the door, my body would betray me. I would feed.

"So I just stood there. I watched him bleed to death on the floor." It was awful. I couldn't even speak one word of comfort to him; I was too afraid to uncover my nose and mouth. He died with his hand stretched out toward me, still hoping I would do something to save him. The accusation in his eyes was terrible.

It took Carlisle a moment to come back to the present. "He was, in a way, my first patient... the first patient I ever lost. And I can never forget his face."

#Carlisle #Tale of Years teasers #Blood #Newborn #Desensitize #The Adoration of Carlisle™ #Edward #Aro #Vampires at work #Twilight fanfiction #Twilight Saga #Carlisle Cullen #Volterra #Official Illustrated Guide

[shorlinesorrows]

just got the time to start the sunshine court and I'm Vibrating out of my skin

#i did not think it was possible for me to like a character this much three chapters into a book #i might actually end up liking Jean better than Neil which is saying a Lot #something about a character whose route to survival had to be giving in and staying small instead of fighting back or running away #something about a character who has been taught to lock up their emotions for years or suffer the consequences #something about a character who is resigned to what happens to them because that's the only way they can survive in their environment #I am desperately hoping that Jean learns how to be ANGRY outwardly without permission. #I need that boy to be able to Rage out loud and do it MESSY #because I'm not convinced he's going to be able to really smile until he does #Also I'm really appreciating both the Renee and Thea content we've desperately needed more of both of them and they showed up so quick #privately hoping both stay present for a while but tbh i'm just excited for where this is headed #Anyways I also just fixated on Jean Moreau then discovered that (SPOILERS) he's 19???? Almost the same age as me??? hate riko hate riko HAT #anyway sorry riko enjoyers i know he's Complicated but I never liked him in the first place #and this book is making me look forward to his death even more than I did when I first read aftg. So. #listen i know he has Issues. I know Ichirou killing him without a second thought is probably the cruelest way that he personally can die #I also want him dead and gone. Those statements can and should coexist imho. #the sunshine court #jean moreau #really looking forward to finding out more about Jeremy too #this is gonna be a wild ride #jeremy knox #all for the game #love how nora's writing and characters can grab me in a chokehold and refuse to let me go thank you nora for the food