#// sharing jokes and stories he hears that interest him are kind of his thing

[monogatcri]

Does Niwa like to tell dad jokes? If so, what's his best dad joke?

In moderation, Niwa loves almost everything joke-wise (don't barrage him with the same thing over and over again -- only his hobbies really warrant this level of appeal), but dad jokes do hold a special place in his heart. Sometimes he'll learn a joke and immediately deem it necessary to inform someone of it ASAP ; usually, the one who is subjected to it happens to be who he's closest to (relationship or radius, doesn't matter). His favorite kinds of jokes are the "expect the unexpected" ones -- no particular one stands out, but examples are as follows:

"Dad, can you put my shoes on?" "No, I don't think they'll fit me."

"Why did Billy get fired from the banana factory? He kept throwing away the bent ones."

"A guy walks into a bar... and he was disqualified from the limbo contest."

"I ordered a chicken and an egg from Amazon. I'll let you know..."

[itaipava]

— forms of non-sexual intimacy with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

kind of intimacy where you guys do things together that lead to inside jokes and private memories; a beautiful feeling of closeness that comes from working in unison. sometimes it's so subtle and unexpected, it's like the two of you lose your way going somewhere the two of you have never been and one is responsible for the driving and the other for the navigation. maybe a bit of a fight here and there, but both  still working together to reach your destination and knowing you’re never really lost as long as the other is around.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

kind of intimacy where actions speak louder than words. making - or at least trying - each other's lives a little easier, a little lighter, a little smoother, a little prettier, and a little more bearable. having breakfast ready so you don't forget it when you're in a hurry. wash and dry dishes together after dinner. leaving little love notes in your things to make you smile. the little things he would do only for those he is really close to.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

his favorite form of intimacy is where the two of you give each other undivided and unique attention when you're together; being as busy as he is and having a lot to think about, there's something so beautiful and comforting about focusing on just one person: you. that means ignoring notifications and anything that bothers him aside when he's with you. leaving certain places earlier to spend more time with you. looking adoringly into each other's eyes at random moments where you can swear there are only the two of you in the world.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

distracted physical touches, usually out of habit. when you are watching tv; he reaches out and strokes your hair, plays with your earlobes, or nudges you gently with his foot. and even when you are in public or with other people, he finds himself playing with your hands, your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm or the back of your hand with his thumb, all while casually conversing with another person.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

bathing together; the form of intimacy in which you fully discover yourself and can appreciate every physical aspect while sharing a genuine and loving atmosphere. him gently washing your body with care and delicacy, as if he had all the time in the world to discover every little universe hidden in your body; he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he washes your hair, which makes you smile because together with the little ripples of hot water they tickle your skin. being totally comfortable in each other's presence is what he's always wanted for the two of you since the beginning, and seeing your love growing every day makes his heart race with happiness in his chest.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the form of intimacy that grows on common interests and activities. for him, there's nothing quite like coming together because of a mutual love for a particular tv show, or during an animated monopoly game or mobile games, or an underrated book. thinking about each other whenever see or hear about it. simple but precious memories resulting from losing sleep because you were too excited at that show or playing together all night.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

the kind of intimacy that only grows and flourishes with time, the true meaning of “making life” together. the kind where the two of you help each other grow in every aspect of life; supporting and rooting for each other's victory but also being there and taking care of each other in defeats. it's when you start to know each other's thoughts, times and patterns as if there is an invisible bond that grows each day between the two of you; like it always connects the two of you even when you're not physically together. it's the form of intimacy where you only know and understand each other on a very deep level.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

a kind of pure, genuine intimacy that encourages each other; listen to each other's dreams, fears, stories and secrets without judgment and show that no matter what, you will be there for each other. always cheering and supporting each other's hobbies, which always makes your heart warm to remember that someone is genuinely rooting for you and that even if you fail, that person will not give up on you.

[its-avalon-08]

can i request max, oscar or logan x reader

he started talking to her because of a bet but he fell in love with her and is scared to come clean..she accidentally finds out and is hurt but he tries to fix things (sorry a little cliche but i do love this trope)

was it worth it? (op81)

✦ pairing - oscar piastri x female!reader

✦ genre - it started off as a bet, a LOT angst, alot of tears

The club was alive with pulsating beats, flashing lights, and a sea of bodies moving in sync with the rhythm. The scent of perfume, cologne, and sweat filled the air, mingling with the sharp tang of alcohol. Oscar Piastri sat at a corner table with a few of his fellow drivers, the remnants of laughter hanging in the air from a joke Pierre Gasly had just told.

Oscar sipped his drink, his eyes scanning the crowd absentmindedly until they landed on a woman dancing with her friends. She moved effortlessly to the music, her laughter ringing out above the din. She was stunning, with a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room. For a moment, their eyes met, and she offered a coy smile before turning back to her friends.

"Who are you staring at, Piastri?" Lando Norris nudged him, following his line of sight. A mischievous grin spread across Lando’s face. "You like what you see?"

Oscar shook his head with a chuckle. "She’s just…really pretty."

"Pretty enough to go talk to?" Charles Leclerc teased, leaning in with a knowing look.

Before Oscar could respond, Pierre chimed in. "I bet you can’t get her number."

The challenge hung in the air, a playful smirk on each driver's face. The conversation quickly escalated into a full-fledged bet, the terms becoming more outrageous with each passing second. Finally, it was settled: whoever could sleep with her first would win.

Oscar felt a pang of discomfort at the idea. It was stupid, juvenile, but the competitive atmosphere among the drivers was hard to resist. With a sigh, he stood up, brushing off his nerves.

"Fine, I’ll go talk to her," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

As he weaved through the crowd, the music seemed to grow louder, the lights brighter. He approached her, heart pounding, rehearsing what he would say. She noticed him as he neared, a curious smile playing on her lips.

"Hi, I’m Oscar," he said, his voice barely audible over the music.

"Y/N," she replied, her smile widening. "Nice to meet you, Oscar."

Her voice was warm and inviting, and any remaining apprehension melted away. They started to chat, and to his surprise, the conversation flowed effortlessly. She was witty, intelligent, and kind—everything he found irresistible.

"What brings you here tonight?" he asked, leaning in to hear her better.

"Just out with some friends," she replied, gesturing to the group she had been dancing with. "What about you?"

"Same," he said, glancing back at his table. "Just needed a break from work."

"Work? What do you do?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"I’m a Formula 1 driver," he said, trying to sound casual.

Her eyes widened in recognition. "Oh, that’s impressive! I’ve heard about you guys, but I’ve never met one in person."

They talked for hours, the bet forgotten as Oscar found himself drawn deeper into her charm. They laughed, shared stories, and even danced a little. The connection was undeniable, and by the end of the night, he felt something real brewing between them.

"Can I get your number?" he asked as the night was winding down.

She smiled, taking his phone and entering her number. "I’d like that."

As they parted ways, Oscar couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and guilt. The bet loomed in the back of his mind, but the night had been too perfect for it to matter. He had genuinely enjoyed her company, and he was determined to see her again.

He returned to the table, greeted by cheers and jeers from his friends. "Well, did you get her number?" Lando asked, a smug grin on his face.

Oscar nodded, holding up his phone. "Yeah, I did."

"Looks like you’re in the lead," Pierre said, clapping him on the back.

Later that night Y/N and Oscar were in his hotel room. His lips latched on her neck as she let out a soft moan. He loved that sound as he sucked on the sweet spot. His hands travelled down and pulled her closer. Her perfume filled the air as dresses came off and shirts were unbuttoned.

(sorry i don't write smut)

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Y/N stirred, her head resting on Oscar’s chest, her hand splayed over his heart. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing, a comforting reminder of the night they had shared.

Oscar lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The previous night had been perfect—more than perfect. He had never felt such a connection with anyone before, and the realization both thrilled and terrified him. The bet, however, loomed in the back of his mind, a dark cloud over an otherwise beautiful morning.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, a sudden intrusion into the peaceful silence. He reached over carefully, trying not to wake Y/N. A notification flashed on the screen: a group message from the drivers congratulating him, along with several payment notifications. They had all transferred their share of the bet money.

His stomach churned with guilt as he read the messages:

landonorrizz: "Looks like you won, mate! Enjoy the spoils!"

pierreakatripod: "Didn’t think you had it in you, Piastri. Well done!"

charlesadoptivefather: "Payment sent. Drinks on you next time!"

Oscar's face paled, the reality of the situation hitting him like a freight train. He had won the bet, but at what cost? His feelings for Y/N were real, but this tainted the purity of their relationship. He knew he had to come clean, but the thought of losing her was unbearable.

As he was lost in his thoughts, Y/N stirred beside him, slowly waking up. She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light, and then she smiled up at him, her expression warm and content.

"Morning," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," he replied, forcing a smile.

She snuggled closer, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "Last night was amazing. I’m so glad we met, Oscar."

His heart ached at her words, knowing he was keeping something from her. "Yeah, it really was."

Just then, she noticed his phone in his hand, the screen still lit up with notifications. "Who’s messaging you so early?"

Oscar’s grip tightened on the phone, panic rising. "Oh, just the guys. You know, racing stuff." Y/N giggles and settled back down on his chest.

fast forward 11 months

Eleven months had passed since that fateful night in the club. Oscar and Y/N’s relationship had blossomed into something beautiful and profound. They had moved in together, creating a cozy home filled with love and laughter. Their days were spent sharing dreams and planning futures, their nights wrapped in each other’s embrace.

One sunny afternoon, they had some friends over for a casual get-together. Lando, Charles, Carlos, Max and Pierre were all lounging in the living room, the air filled with the sounds of friendly banter and laughter. Y/N was in the kitchen, preparing snacks while Oscar chatted with the guys.

"Hey, remember when we thought Oscar wouldn't have the guts to talk to Y/N?" Lando joked, nudging Charles.

Charles laughed. "Yeah, and look at them now. Guess that bet was the best thing that ever happened to him."

Oscar’s heart skipped a beat, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Lando, don’t—" he started, his voice tense.

But it was too late. Y/N stepped into the room just as Lando continued, oblivious to the growing horror on Oscar's face.

"Come on, Y/N knew about the bet, right?" Lando laughed. "You know, the one where we dared Oscar to get her number and then see who could sleep with her first? Classic stuff."

The room fell deathly silent. Y/N stood frozen, the tray of snacks trembling in her hands. Her face paled, her eyes wide with shock and betrayal. The words hung in the air, echoing painfully in the sudden stillness.

"W-What?" Y/N's voice was barely a whisper, her eyes darting to Oscar. "A fucking bet?"

Oscar jumped up, his heart pounding. "Y/N, I can explain—"

But she was already backing away, her eyes filling with tears. "So it was all a lie? Our entire fucking relationship started because of a bet?"

"Y/N, please, it’s not what you think," Oscar pleaded, his voice desperate. "It started that way, but it became real. I fell in love with you. I love you."

"How can I believe anything you say now?" she cried, the tears spilling over. "Was anything real, Oscar? Was any of it real?"

"It was, it is!" Oscar insisted, stepping toward her. "I made a mistake, a stupid mistake, but everything after that night was real. You have to believe me."

She shook her head, the betrayal cutting deep. "How could you do this to me? How could you let me fall in love with you knowing this?"

Oscar’s heart shattered at the sight of her tears. "Y/N, please, I was scared to tell you. I didn’t want to lose you."

"You’ve already lost me," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Was winning the bet worth losing me, Oscar? Because you just lost me."

"Y/N, don’t say that," he begged, reaching out for her. "Please, don’t leave. I can’t lose you."

She pulled away, her sobs shaking her entire body. "I can’t stay here. I can’t be with someone who lied to me from the start."

Oscar watched helplessly as she turned and fled to their bedroom. The door slammed shut behind her, and he stood there, the reality of his actions crashing down on him. The room was silent, the friends who had inadvertently revealed the truth now looking on with a mix of regret and sympathy.

Lando finally broke the silence. "Mate, I thought she knew. I’m so fucking sorry. I had no idea"

Oscar shook his head, the weight of his mistake too heavy to bear. "I can't - I just. Fuck man."

He walked to the bedroom door, his heart aching with every step. He knocked softly. "Y/N, please, let me in. Let’s talk."

There was no answer, only the sound of her muffled sobs. He rested his forehead against the door, tears streaming down his face. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you more than anything. Please, give me a chance to make this right."

Inside the room, Y/N sat on the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. Her world had crumbled in an instant, and the man she loved had been the one to destroy it. She wanted to believe him, to trust that his love was real, but the pain was too raw, the betrayal too deep.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. The once lively atmosphere was now heavy with sorrow and regret. The guys had left quietly, offering subdued apologies and words of support that did little to ease Oscar's heartache. The apartment was eerily silent, except for the faint sound of Y/N's muffled sobs from behind the closed bedroom door.

Oscar sat on the couch, his head in his hands, replaying the events of the day over and over in his mind. Each time he thought about Y/N's face, the look of betrayal in her eyes, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart.

The sound of the bedroom door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Y/N standing there, her face streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen. She was holding a suitcase, her movements frantic as she began to pack her things.

"Y/N, please, don’t do this," Oscar pleaded, rushing to her side. He tried to grab the suitcase from her hands, but she pulled it away, her sobs intensifying.

"I have to, Oscar," she cried, her voice trembling. "I can’t stay here. I can’t be with you."

"Please, just let me explain," he begged, his own tears flowing freely. "I love you, Y/N. I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, but I love you. Please, don’t leave."

She paused, looking at him with eyes full of pain. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to always be second?" she asked, her voice breaking. "My whole life, I’ve always felt like I was never enough. Second best in school, second best to my friends, even in my own family. I thought you were different, Oscar. I thought you saw me for who I really am, and I believed that I was finally someone’s first choice."

"You are my first choice," he said desperately, reaching out to touch her arm.

She pulled away, shaking her head. "No, Oscar. I was just a bet to you. A game. You won the bet, but you’ve lost me. And no one has ever hurt me more than you have."

Her words pierced through him, each one like a dagger to his heart. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I was an idiot, a coward. I should have told you the truth from the beginning. I love you, Y/N. More than anything. Please, don’t go."

"I can’t stay," she sobbed, her hands trembling as she continued to pack. "Every time I look at you, I’ll be reminded of this. Of how I was just a challenge to you. I need to go. I need to find a way to heal from this."

Oscar dropped to his knees, his heart shattering with every passing second. "Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just give me a chance."

She stopped packing, looking down at him with tears streaming down her face. "How can I ever trust you again, Oscar? How can I believe that anything we had was real?"

"It was real," he insisted, his voice raw with emotion. "Every moment we shared, every laugh, every kiss—it was all real to me. I love you more than words can say. Please, don’t leave me."

She closed her eyes, the pain overwhelming. "I need to go," she said softly, her voice barely audible. "I need to find myself again. Without you."

He watched helplessly as she zipped up her suitcase and walked to the door. "Y/N," he called out, his voice breaking. "Please, don’t go."

She paused at the door, looking back at him one last time. "Goodbye, Oscar," she whispered, and then she was gone.

Oscar sat there on the floor, his heart in pieces, the sound of the door closing echoing in his ears. He had lost her, the woman he loved more than anything in the world, because of a stupid, reckless bet. And now, all he could do was hope that one day, she might find it in her heart to forgive him and come back. But for now, he was left with the unbearable weight of his mistakes and the hollow ache of her absence.

a few hours later

Y/N sat in her apartment, the quiet solitude of the space amplifying her heartbreak. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched a hoodie that belonged to Oscar, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a bittersweet memory. Her phone was filled with pictures of the two of them, each snapshot a testament to the love they had shared. She scrolled through them, her heart breaking a little more with every smile, every kiss, every laugh they had captured.

A bouquet of wilted flowers Oscar had given her on their last anniversary sat on the table, and she fingered the petals absentmindedly, recalling the tenderness in his eyes when he had handed them to her. The apartment felt like a museum of their love, every corner holding a memory that now felt tainted by his betrayal.

Meanwhile, Oscar was pacing his own apartment, wracking his brain for a way to make things right. He glanced around, his eyes landing on a Polaroid picture of Y/N that he had taken one sunny afternoon. She was laughing, her hair blowing in the wind, her eyes sparkling with joy. The sight of her in that picture filled him with a renewed determination. He had to show her how much she meant to him, how deeply he loved her.

Grabbing a bouquet of fresh flowers, he rushed out of his apartment and drove to Y/N's place. When he arrived, he stood at her door, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope. He knocked gently at first, then more urgently when there was no answer.

"Y/N, please, let me in," he called out, his voice thick with emotion. "I need to talk to you."

Inside, Y/N heard his voice but couldn’t bring herself to move. She was too hurt, too shattered. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly.

Oscar’s heart sank when there was no response. Desperate, he pulled out his phone and found her favorite song on a jukebox app. He placed it on the ground outside her door and hit play. The familiar melody filled the air, and he began to speak, his voice shaking with sincerity.

Oscar stood outside Y/N’s door, his heart pounding in his chest as he played her favorite song on his phone. The music filled the air, a bittersweet melody that mirrored the emotions swirling inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his trembling hands, and began to speak, his voice filled with raw emotion.

"Y/N, please, just hear me out," he started, his voice breaking. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life. But I need you to know how deeply I love you. From the moment I met you, you changed my world, and every day since then, I’ve fallen more and more in love with you."

He paused, wiping away the tears that streamed down his face. "I love the way you scrunch your nose when you're thinking hard about something. It’s one of the cutest things I've ever seen. I love how your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about. Your enthusiasm is contagious, and it makes me want to be a better person."

Oscar’s voice trembled as he continued, "I love the way you laugh. It's the most beautiful sound in the world, and it can brighten even my darkest days. I love how you always insist on dancing in the kitchen, even when there’s no music. Those moments, just you and me, they’re the ones I cherish the most."

He took a shaky breath, his tears falling freely now. "I love how you always leave little notes for me to find, reminding me to smile or telling me you love me. Those notes mean everything to me. I love how you remember every detail about my day, how you listen to me, and how you make me feel valued and important."

Oscar’s voice cracked with emotion as he continued, "I love the way you care for others, how you’re always looking out for the people you love. You have the biggest heart, Y/N, and I am so incredibly lucky to be loved by you. I love every single thing about you, from your kindness to your strength, from your laughter to your tears."

He wiped his eyes, his voice growing more desperate. "I know I messed up, and I know I hurt you in a way that might never fully heal. But I am begging you, from the bottom of my heart, to give me a chance to make this right. I will spend every day of my life proving to you that you are my first choice, my only choice."

Oscar took a step closer to the door, his voice filled with unwavering sincerity. "Please, Y/N, don’t walk away from what we have. I can’t lose you. I’ll do anything to earn back your trust, to show you that my love for you is real and true. Please, let me prove to you that you mean everything to me."

His voice broke again, a sob escaping his lips. "I love you, Y/N. I love you more than words can express. I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, and I promise you, I will never hurt you like this again. Please, open the door and let me in. Let me be with you, let me show you how much I care."

The silence that followed was agonizing. Oscar stood there, his heart aching, praying that she would give him a chance. Just as he felt his hope begin to waver, the door slowly creaked open.

Y/N stood there, tears streaming down her face, her eyes red and swollen. She looked at him, taking in the flowers, the pain, and love in his eyes. "Oscar," she whispered, her voice trembling. "How can I trust you again?"

He stepped forward, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "I know it’s going to take time," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "And I’m willing to wait as long as it takes. I’ll spend every day showing you that you can trust me again. I love you, Y/N. You are my everything."

She hesitated, then slowly reached out to take the flowers from his hands. The touch of her fingers against his sent a wave of hope through him. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his for any hint of deceit, but all she saw was raw, honest love.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But it’s going to take time, Oscar."

He nodded, tears of relief streaming down his face. "I understand. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just please, let me be with you."

She stepped aside, allowing him to enter, and as he did, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. They stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the pain of the past mingling with the hope for the future.

"I love you, Y/N," he murmured into her hair. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Oscar," she whispered back, her tears soaking into his shirt. "Just don’t ever hurt me like this again."

"I won’t," he promised, his voice firm. "Never again."

As they held each other, the music playing softly in the background, they both knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but they were willing to walk it together, one step at a time.

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook Entry 💜 Bubbles (Part 1)

PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader

SUMMARY: You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: exes, explicit sexual content, in public, oral, slight degradation and rough cause you are both hurt

PARTS: [1] [2]

(You can also read it on AO3)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your group called you to follow as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing in the direction of the dance floor but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises expanding over the several floors: SX.

“Come along.”

You smiled at your best friend and followed her and her friends to a reserved club area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music was making your ribcage hum comfortably and you sat on a couch before she turned to you again.

“I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”

You nodded and watched her go as you took the space around you comfortably. The other girls were chatting, cross-checking who was there tonight and who they knew. You were used to hanging with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. You didn’t know them because you’d been away for a while, but you trusted your dearest friend to keep good company around.

Either way, you were there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplated dancing. Everyone else was already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd and you’d join them soon enough.

The lights were flashing all around to the generous beat making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl your guts burned with furious jealousy.

“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”

“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another one replied and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride that bad.”

“Do you think he has other tattoos?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly deeply cleavaged top.

“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”

Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip and you wondered how she knew that.

“First-hand experience?” You asked with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.

“No,” the other girls turned to hear more and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”

The other girls teased her reply for a moment while you paid them little mind.

“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly. 

“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”

“He can get any girl on her knees.”

“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”

“What if he changes?”

“What if we’re the one?”

They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.

“Guys like him don’t change.”

“Actually,” the girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumour is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”

Your friend neared you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin, “Who’s not dating seriously?”

“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.

“Who would waste that?”

“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”

Your best friend looked at you quizzically and you just twitched the corners of your mouth. You grabbed a shot glass as well while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. In an instant, her eyes shot to yours but you were purposefully avoidant.

“What’s his name anyway?” One of them asked, turning her back so they could toast.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Your eyes immediately fell back on him and you ignored your friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good and steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggy. Who cared who he danced with, you were there to have fun too.

Your best friend called your name with a tinge of worry and all you did was smile, “I’ll go grab another round.”

You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd to reach the bar. You didn’t have to go that far, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved in closer, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and so buff. He had let his hair grow longer and it curled wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you found yourself liking a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands.

You were so hot that you were sweaty and by the time you leaned against the bar, you finally noticed something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid very quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.

He turned away from the girl and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.

It was then and there that you almost took a deep breath and committed to not look his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough, the girls gossiped way too much so you had all the information you could need, and there was really no need for your paths to intersect.

But fate wouldn’t have you choose that road tonight, it would seem. You turned to the side, curious as to where he would be, and you smiled. There were only two people in between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.

You made your way to him and luckily the two people between you had just gotten their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.

“Order for me too, will you?”

He turned to you and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his normally lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched and you noticed another piercing, which along with the new ones on his lip made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.

“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter and you turned quickly before Jungkook could react.

“Can you get me one too, please?”

You were already waving your credit card and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.

It was the moment Jungkook needed to grab his drink and shug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.

“Thirsty are we?” You asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you blinking for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”

You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender retourning with your card and your drink.

“You’re here.”

It wasn’t a question and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.

“I am. How are you?”

His eyes were focused on the drink and he scoffed at your question, reaching to drink the rest of it. That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you where you wished it would remain buried.

“Why are you here?”

Your lips twitched, “New club in Seoul.”

He sneered, “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”

“You know I wasn’t here.”

Your eyes locked and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed ways before. But you were here now.

He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process the fact that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eyes and passed him your drink. He took a second but he grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.

“Dance with me.”

He looked out of the corner of his eye at you and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume, you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand. 

You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew that he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. And it wasn’t as much as for the mystery, or a challenge, or anything of the like. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.

He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before turning to go deeper into the crowd, far away and in the middle so that your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to be wise and think twice. What could you tell her; the moment fate challenged you with the chance of meeting him, you instantly lost.

You never turned back to check if he was following, you just assumed he did. You stopped with the flashing lights, sweating bodies, and thrumming music all around you, and you closed your eyes. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, slick pooling at the thought of it alone.

So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, snaking arms holding your stomach and going up your sternum like they owned you, all you could do was freefall into him, releasing a moan that you knew he could have never heard, but he surely felt.

He hid his nose in your hair, lulling you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hand reached your chest and rested there, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. It was in those moments that the deepest desires came out, hiddenly safely away. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tighter.

“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that a wave of shivers ran down your neck.

“Two days ago.”

His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance and you were greedy.

“Are you alone?”

You sank your nails into his skin, “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react but you knew he would remember your best friend. “Are you?”

You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls were gossiping about. Maybe they were wrong and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so maybe the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.

He didn’t answer but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.

But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his thoughts on someone else.

So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you cooed, brushing his neck with your fingers until you were embracing and grazing his scalp with your nails. You leaned the side of your face on him, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you buried your fingers just like that to keep him close. His delectable scent would invade you then and envelope you tightly in everything Jungkook-related until all there was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—

He breathed near your ear and you lost your breath, sighing instantly after when he said nothing.

“Answer me,” you asked again. This time you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer, “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by the close and delirious moment. 

His hand was pressing up your spine and nape as you spoke until it latched onto your hair but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply. 

You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses grazed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. His hand pulled your head back by your hair and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. And that was enough to shake you and put out in the open everything you wished had stayed hidden: he was angry.

Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth. 

He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. And you smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.

Your bodies were finally separated and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.

And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. In a way, from the anger you created in him and the regret in yourself. From the chance of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming but you had never been the brave kind, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was exactly why you were leaving. 

It was chilly outside but it didn’t matter, you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and the shame and regret. You stepped to the street where you knew that among the cars stopping and passing you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off and took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.

You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you and—

Familiar dark eyes faced you back and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was still firm as he clenched it, angry eyes stiffening his face, but you still let yourself get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, despise you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—

He stepped back and dragged you along and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring if you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking it looked hot as hell on him. 

He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you just behind a hidden corner covered by a parked car. Your back hit the wall and you looked up at him while grabbing the chain strap of your bag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way. 

That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration on you until he was vulnerable and sweet like you always remembered him.

Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him but he slapped them away harshly. You didn’t have time to react about it though because a second later he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall. 

The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.

His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer, you wanted it all, and when he humped his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”

His lips quickly came to yours, if to shut you up or not you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.

Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session. 

You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead, right until he searched for your panties only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you almost instantly. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, piercing his cock fully into you and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.

You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to get him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip into place and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest. 

His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t care. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, had wished on all your lucky stars you would one day get to feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—

He grabbed your hair to pull your face to kiss him and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even focus on breathing. Maybe it aggravated him or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.

Suddenly he yanked the upper part of your dress and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.

He buried his face between your tits, licking and bitting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you and you fucking loved it. Your haze was so up in the clouds you couldn’t be bothered to come down until he did something that shook your heart.

He tightened your legs around his waist, leaned in an angle so he could hold you firmly against the wall, and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he dragged over it and reached deep inside with his cock had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot, you were squirming but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin but weak to the sensations leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.

He felt the way you tensed around his cock and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes closed further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.

You took your hands to his over your chest and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.

Fuck, it’s him. After so long—

You tried reaching for him, but your hand dropped to his shoulder as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with having him tucked deep inside you again.

Until he cursed into your neck and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.

When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were left only with a stronger doubt.

He turned to the side to get rid of the condom and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips twitched — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes. 

He cursed, then ruffled his hair for a moment before looking at you again, “I’ll take you home.”

You pulled your hair neatly back and pursed your lips, “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”

He openly snorted, “You're assuming I want seconds.”

You sighed with a light shrug, “Isn't that what we just did?”

His derision fell through as his features hardened again but you didn't budge. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults and he followed you, there was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.

But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod, “It's okay, I can—”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered for a second if you should — if it made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving 0 fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible. 

So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed exactly that — hugging him while he sped between every single obstacle and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast but remained safe as you could only feel with him.

He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before when you were still together, but there was a certain magic in seeing that even if he changed, some things didn’t.

He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring — and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silences. You took the small win.

“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” You ask in a bit of a shout as he is looking at the road to finally get on it.

He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to just lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. Inhale his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder maybe a bit too much; the helmet was big and he surely felt it. Palm his chest and torso over his jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. Knowing this was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this later and all the little sensations and you’d be happy you did.

You were lulled by his warm body and the drum of the motor raging on, so you paid little attention to where he was going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot side of an apartment complex it was not Youngjoo’s place.

He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped out of the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, the both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet and you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby, then inside one where he pressed the seventh floor, and even when the doors closed with only the two of you there.

Your mind was roaring on about him bringing you to his place and the only reason he would have to do that, and your chest would soon explode. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.

He typed the code to unlock an apartment door and you followed him inside, cheekiness left outside in the night right before you got into the bike and decided to make the most of your time with him. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but even his space didn’t remind you of Jungkook as you expected it to.

You had only taken the step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You stepped out of the way to exchange places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed your movement to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips were searching for yours.

You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were gripping him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him, your body was arching to expose more skin, you were taking what you could and you’d give whatever he wanted.

But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to stop as well. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before. 

Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating and there was nothing you could do about it now.

The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?

The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?

The fourth rilled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”

He refused to look up at you but never moved away.

His breathing was calming down and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”

His eyes finally moved to yours and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling strands of hair under his ear.

He didn’t move, eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay like this.

“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here and I can leave.”

“Why?”

He finally looked up at your eyes as you let your head fall back to the wall in a languid movement.

“This is your place, why leave?”

His jaw tensed and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.

You sighed, “You brought me here so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched and you nodded. “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”

You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before going down to trace his wide shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—

“You can shower first.”

He backed away from you and you couldn’t help your expression sobering up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.

But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

So you nodded and stepped towards the bathroom, but not before turning around midway, “Please don’t leave.”

The look you gave him was enough — pleading whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him. But even if you wanted to press it and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice and you were well aware of it.

You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him and wondering what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped as you toweled yourself that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.

You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing grimace — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings that his very existence created in you, but the tears in your eyes were enough.

You quickly put it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which on you looked like two of you could fit. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.

You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it would be replaced with his strong arms—

The scent of coffee hit your nose quickly once in the living room and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because when you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. On the counter, you saw a fuming mug and the cinnamon smell instantly teared you up. That plus the bottle of soymilk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before laying around, he remembered your favorite latte, and he made it for you.

Your eyes jumped to his back; he was looking outside the kitchen window and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black expresso.

He looked at you and your guts turned; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt on you. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control, everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, having your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say but—

Your chin trembled but before you voiced anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You stepped to the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.

You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before, you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly, and for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew and it made no sense but you were still there and you were willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.

So you took your mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower noise faintly in the background. His place was bigger now and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same grey bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile, he spoke for ages that he wanted to do that if he ever moved out. But as you took in the rest of the place, your smile broke a little.

On the corner, there was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more now. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.

You moved on to peep at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was working on at the moment. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook but you couldn’t find them, and so you pressed your lips. You loved it when sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself you only started believing because of him.

You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet trace to link you back to him — you wondered what happened to—

You turned when you heard the bathroom door opening, you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel you couldn’t see, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering wide shoulders and swollen arms, chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel was hanging on to his hip like you could only envy.

You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you, tense features on a tense body. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it down. You swallowed a lump at the view of him walking towards you, despite his demeanor. “It’s my favorite—”

You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours soon spelled your pleasure at his whim while his fingers pressed marks only he could trace on you.

Your hands moved to those wide shoulders that had your knees wobbly and he pushed them away before forcing your head up to face him better. He wanted your focus on your kiss only and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You tried again, but this time he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails in the soft muscle just like he was taking small bites out of your bottom lip.

Your ass hit something and when he pushed you on it, you just briefly freed one hand to throw whatever was on the dining table behind you off to have some space. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the tee shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could, you always turned into a whimpering wet mess with him.

He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.

He stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry dark eyes eying you from head to toe.

“Fuck, look at you.”

A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t familiar with. But the way he stepped back between your legs while getting on his knees was much more in line with what you knew. Him in a praying position tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of you was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering, the only difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.

His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted everything. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t just with a little bit of torture. No, you knew how that mouth would move on you, how his tongue would lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.

He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted, you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him that you’d keep your mouth shut.

He bit down, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, and you were sure he noticed.

“Since when are you so patient?”

He sounded annoyed and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare rush perfection.”

He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centemeter right— No! Just one or two to the left and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.

You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.

“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”

And he licked you faster, keeping pressure on you with his mouth that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moan, and stole your breath, to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up in your tension and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.

That thought alone pushed you to the edge and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there just like he promised. Just like you wished.

So you started moaning louder, half derailed, “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”

Your voice broke because you suddenly were cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen up your grip on his hair.

“Are you okay?”

He faced you and stayed silent, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dag at your hips. Your worry was clouding you, having your hand brush his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.

You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. That gave you the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and his lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?

You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back at your will until his calves hit the sofa. You tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands were on your hips and started tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for you both.

You kissed his head before getting on your knees in between his legs. He gave you a dark cold stare and with anyone else you might have cowered, but not with him. You waited a moment with your hands over his legs, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.

You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it, before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.

But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was to not make a stupid mistake like not kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained or you lost it.

You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, wet hair dripping down his shoulders, and the first hint of relaxation from him. That’s it, you coed in your mind. Fuck did you miss seeing him falling apart, you craved it and you’d do it.

You kept licking and kissing and as you moved up his shaft it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t come. It didn’t matter if he had given up or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.

You moaned as soon as that taste hit your buds and your thoughts became a blur. You bobbed your head mindlessly, drooling over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your head but remained light as a feather, and finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peaking through, and licking his lip ring while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the door.

You gripped his cock firmer and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now being there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.

But he recoiled away and guided your head away. You had no idea if he pulled your hair, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine with you. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?

You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips and you were even more irked.

“Why?”

He opened his eyes and the stiffness was back to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, he wasn’t rejecting you, pulling you away, or anything like that. It was time he made a decision.

“Why push me away?” You insisted, letting your nail graze his sweet cheek gently. He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered.

“I was about to cum.”

“So?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect cock between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to that anger behind those beautiful dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was maybe a source of conflict, it sure could have been for you as well if you didn’t still…

Well.

Your expression softened as you leaned to close your lips near the skin of his forehead, “Take it out on me.”

He didn’t move or respond and you just dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.

“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”

His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully longer hair, still wet under your touch, and sighed when he pressed your back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.

Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention there only.

So you hissed and sighed with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard boner. Your spit was drying, but not yet, so you jerked him off gently through your pitchy moans.

You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.

So you leaned down by his ear. “Come on,” you whispered in a low tone. “Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep. Fuck it all out on me.”

You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You’d prefer he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.

But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said, he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.

You gasped mutely and hugged him strongly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—

He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper and your tits bounce around, then moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it. 

He neared you while rolling a condom and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip and you laid back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire bursting through you.

“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”

You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you felt full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine and he chuckled.

“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you a second ago, but I’ll remind you.”

He snapped his hips into yours and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he was treating you roughly, you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.

“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more even though you knew how much more could come. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding. For your comfort. It had to be, right?

You were tucked in his grip, so when he went harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.

“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?” 

“Wasn’t that what you did before?”

You barely got it out but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”

His voice was tense, you wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.

“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”

His hand struck your ass so hard you whimpered a cry. In a second, he was rubbing that area and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars and you couldn’t get enough.

“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.” 

You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.

“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your asscheeks. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”

You grinned, “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”

He smacked the other asscheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.

“But you searched.”

He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you. Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”

He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as if in pain. But you were too rilled up to stop.

“Looking for what? Any tight cunt?” He was getting sloppy and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm and you could swear he growled. But who cared, he was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”

He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting in ways only he could cause until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.

“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your opened mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”

He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside, earning a sigh from you and a plea.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.

His hips restarted their rocking and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good it felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.

“Fuck— You’re so deep—”

“You like it?”

His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing but to please you. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.

“Yes— Yes—”

You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”

“I’m here.”

You gripped his hands and anxiety crossed your features for a moment, “Please.”

He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”

You opened your teary eyes to look at him and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore, he was really with you, like he once was. 

You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much to be contained. You moved with him, lulled by that movement you longed for for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his own pleasure.

You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want to. You opened your mouth to tell him and nothing came out, but he got it.

“Come with me.”

He grunted his words before kissing you and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. He groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.

You didn’t think about what would happen after that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment you believed it could be true — he stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting away, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.

Until he pulled away and your heart cracked.

You couldn’t open your eyes immediately, you weren’t ready to face it again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.

Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed but your mind latched onto nothing, you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.

He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before pushing you gently with an arm around your waist. You sighed and leaned back into him. He was holding you to his chest as he covered you both with a sheet and you could swear that was all a dream. All of it.

[Next part>]

[sunsh1n3s]

— make it up. ( don hume x reader )

a.n. nurse reader is inspired by bedside manner by snappleapple on ao3. i’m studying to be a nurse and the idea was cute when i read it, so credits to them for sparking my interest :)

contains. fem!reader, swearing, sick fic, also very long i apologize i couldn’t stop writing ideas

“boys, this is your nurse, y/n. she will be here during majority of the practices if you have any pain or anything concerning to your performances. please go to her, she’s kind, she doesn’t bite.” coach ulbrickson spoke, gesturing to y/n who walked forward.

the guys couldn’t help but check her out, the action didn’t go unnoticed. y/n cleared her throat and stood next to bobby. “like you listen to your coaches and bobby, you will listen to me. anything i instruct will be beneficial for your performances and health. trust me with what i have to order, i’ve been doing this for two years now. i’ve been here longer than you guys have on the team and im in medical school, i know i have an idea with what you deal with.” she spoke.

stern, pretty, and kind. it took the guys’ attention, and like every year; they would try and flirt with her.

throughout the ongoing practices and races, y/n was seen beside the coaches. she spoke with them on training and things to heal the team, or work their muscles. she had her own small room alongside the coaches, and the boys always hobbled their way to her. along with the cries of sore arms and sprained muscles, calluses, and headaches; flirting that never touched y/n’s heart followed.

bobby stood in y/n’s office, watching as she wrapped his hand. “has anyone given up on trying to woo you yet?” he asked. the two were bonded due to the years bobby had been there, and her main focus on the varsity boys. “nobody has given up yet- but one hasn’t even dared to try.” y/n informed. bobby and y/n shared a look, “don. he hardly talks, let alone to girls.” bobby teased while y/n snickered.

“they keep asking me if we’re together.” bobby rolled his eyes, making her laugh again. “jealousy over their own cox. i’ve heard that story before.” she joked. letting him go, bobby stopped at the doorway. “i think donny is pretty head over heels though-” “oh get out.”

shaking her head and cleaning up, y/n looked back out the window and saw don walking into the locker room. bobby’s words came to mind, but she couldn’t. it was her team, her patients, she wouldn’t.

for the next months, don didn’t hear the end of it when bobby caught his stroke staring at the nurse. eventually the boys stopped because they noticed their quiet guy head over heels. it was new, and boys will be boys, so they never let don’s crush on her down.

so when it was time to get her for the train to berlin, don was the one to get her.

placing her two suitcases on her bed, y/n packed for the quick and eventful trip; clothes, uniform, accessories, and whatever she needed for schoolwork. her medical boss had packed a bag of necessities, knowing once they signed her as the nurse for the team, she’d be set with whatever else she needed.

y/n wore her uniform to match the guys’ professionalism. though she preferred her comfortable clothes, she wanted to look nice.

a knock at her door stopped her from her packing, “come in.” she spoke softly, turning to the door once it opened. she didn’t expect to see a guy, let alone don hume. it took y/n by surprise that don hume was upstairs, surpassing a strict dormitory director and several girls; just to get to y/n’s room.

“hello don.” she greeted with a soft smile, folding up the last of her clothes and placing them in the suitcase. “hi.” he said, slightly awkward. he stood with his hands behind his back, not knowing where to stand or sit. y/n looked at him again, “go ahead and get comfortable. who’d you fight to get in here?” she questioned. she closed her suitcase and started getting to the other, adjusting the books and case for her writing utensils.

“i didn’t have to fight thankfully. ms stevens is stubborn though. uh- we wanted to share with you- uh a hat. the guys and i- since you’re our nurse.” don said, moving his hands forward to show the hat that matched their uniform. y/n looked at it and smiled at him, “oh that’s so sweet. thank you.” she thanked. he nodded and handed it to her.

“what’s medical school like?” don asked, sitting awkwardly at her vanity chair. y/n smiled, “it’s interesting. i enjoy it. i think because i’ve always wanted to help people. but with now my grades excelling and everything, i get to help you guys. i’ve had to learn a new course to treat you guys. i’m practically a physical therapist alongside being a nurse.” she spoke.

she walked over to her heels and put them on, walking in front of don. “how do i look, mr. hume?” she asked. she turned to grab and put on the hat before posing for him. don was breathless and she smiled softly at him. “beautiful.” he spoke. she beamed, “thank you.” she said, shocked at how much the compliment touched her heart.

there was another knock at the door, both straightened and y/n finished packing. coach ulbrickson walked in, looking at don with slight question but brushing it off. “y/n, you ready?” he asked, checking his watch and looking at her softly. y/n nodded, closing her other suitcase and grabbing her medical bag.

“hume.” coach motioned, don realized and quickly yet gently grabbed her suitcases. she smiled at him and they followed coach out of the girls dormitory.

little cheers from the guys came down the hallway once they noticed don with the suitcases, causing him to go red and for y/n to shake her head.

boarding the train was a hassle, y/n and don rushed in. reporters yelling questions about the two at them, and girls giving glares at y/n. “god i’m just a nurse!” she yelled out the door. y/n turned on the balls of her feet and walked down to a train seat. she placed her bag in one bench and don placed the rest beside it.

y/n turned to him, “thank you don, i owe you.” she said. he shook his head, “nah you don’t-” “i insist. i’ll make it up to you somehow.” she spoke. he couldn’t argue so he nodded and bid his goodbyes. y/n relaxed in her quiet evening as they traveled while he returned to the guys; getting teased for being a gentleman.

he returned later to see her asleep, she was bunched to keep warm. don frowned and retrieved a blanket for her, his blanket. she dealt with eighteen boys daily, and soon nine in a new country. she deserved rest and comfort.

that night, he slept cold while she slept comfortable and warm. he could care less.

berlin, something new for the team. the ten students and coaches followed directions and ignored reporters. questions were shot at the coaches and y/n.

they all were led to their rooms, y/n was farther from them as she was placed closer to the hospital wing. the guys watched as she left with a few nurses and settled into the atmosphere, speaking butchered german and following a doctor.

they all settled and don became exhausted.

the next morning, he felt terrible. he was too tired to go to the introduction. “i’ll get y/n.” tom spoke, letting ulbrickson and george make sure he was alright. the boys parted ways as her heels clicked through the hallway and into the room, wearing navy dress pants and a blouse to match them- she had planned to walk out with team, but her plans now changed.

y/n had her bag and stethoscope and everyone watched as she gently checked his forehead. “no fever. i’ll watch him, you guys go and be with the team.” she spoke. george insisted on staying back, “go george, support your boys.” she spoke softly. he left and y/n turned to don, “hey donny, what’s going on?” she asked.

“just tired.” he spoke, closing his eyes as she touched his face and neck. “anything sore?” she asked. he hummed, “muscles, but not like practice soreness. heavy soreness.” he spoke. y/n nodded, she helped him change and laid him down in bed.

y/n packed her things and was ready to leave. “can you stay?” don asked, she looked at him. his hand reached out for hers, “yeah i can, i’m sure the boys will be back soon.” she said. y/n placed a chair next to his bed and his hand was still stretched out as he dozed off, she held it gently and looked out the window.

the coaches returned and y/n walked out to the hallway to talk with them. “he has a low grade fever. one he can work through if he continues to rest tonight, he said he has muscle soreness but it’s heavy. the fever is hitting his body hard because he works it enough. it’s eating at his existing exhaustion, so i’m just keeping an eye on him. is there any demand for him for the rest of the night?” she informed, leaning against the wall.

the coaches looked at one another, “not until tomorrow. is he contagious?” ulbrickson asked. she shook her head, “he’s not coughing nor sneezing. the boys should be fine, we just keep monitoring him in case he gets worse. i gave him medicine to kill the fever, so he’s okay right now.” she explained.

the next day, don had to compete with the boys to make it to the final race. y/n watched with the coaches, they stood on the boarding dock and she watched as ulbrickson spoke to them. she walked down once he was done, “are you guys feeling okay?” she asked, the eight nodded. her eyes went to the ninth, who sat tired. she walked over, “you got this don. just push through and before you know it you’ll be able to rest. how are you now?” she asked.

he shrugged, “decent.” he answered and she nodded. she shared a concerned look with bobby, bobby gave her a reassuring nod and she got up and returned to tom’s side.

they all prepared to watch the boys race; as hoped they won.

y/n checked on don before leaving to go to the hospital wing. he was decent, but looked tired. his assurances to y/n didn’t fool her. so she beat everyone to it to report his illness.

sure enough, as she spoke to a doctor, the coaches rushed in. they brought don in where he was checked up on by doctors, they prescribed him medicine and couldn’t put a diagnosis to what he was sick with; but gave y/n what she needed. the coaches left with the doctor to move the rest of the boys.

a doctor returned to the room with ulbrickson, “he can stay with me. i’ll watch him and if he’s contagious i can try to get it out of him and send myself home to prevent risking anyone else’s health.” she spoke, resting a hand on don’s shoulder. she knew what she was doing, and the doctor trusted her, so they agreed.

the boys didn’t have any urge to tease don amongst one another, but they knew it’d be something they brought up in the future.

with a bed across from her, y/n helped don into bed while she unpacked his things alongside hers. “thank you.” he spoke, quiet. “no need to thank me, it’s my job.” she said softly, walking to him. “you didn’t have to do this though.” he continued. she smiled softly, “i know.” she answered.

overnight, don got worse. he threw up after practices, y/n found him sat next to the toilet in the middle of the night. she watched as he became pale and thin, and he watched her worries grow.

the night before the big race, he sat on the bathroom floor while she wet a cloth. “y/n you’re gonna get yourself sick.” he spoke, she kneeled down and wiped his forehead with the cold cloth then rested it on the back of his neck. his eyes closed and she retrieved medicine.

“i can leave early if you’re better and i’m sick.” she stated. he looked up at her, the way the light hit her made her look angelic. “we’re lucky to have you.” he spoke, he wanted to say im lucky to have you, but his nerves stopped him. he was afraid she’d stop and leave him there to suffer, only because he admitted he was just as infatuated with her as the rest of the guys were.

she crouched in front of him with medicine and water, “and i’m lucky to have you guys. especially you.” she said, watching him take the prescription. his hands shook in pure nerves as he handed the cups back. “why me?” he asked. “you’re kinder than them, yeah they’re nice and one is my good friend. but you make me feel normal, not some big deal because i’m a nurse to eighteen guys.” she explained.

y/n sat beside him, and he looked at her. “plus you’re cute, and talented.” she added, watching him go red with a bashful smile. “you’re brains and beauty, how lucky am i to have you as my nurse.” he spoke. she blushed now, letting out a soft laugh. don smiled once she did, and he felt better just by that.

“if only you weren’t potentially contagious and throwing up, i’d give you a big kiss.” she admitted. don fought his nerves, “you can make it up to me later.” he said. y/n blushed and bit back a smile, she couldn’t respond and felt like they swapped places. all she could do was intertwine her hand with his. “you have a big day tomorrow, let’s try and rest.” she gently said.

she helped him to bed and rested a cold cloth on his forehead. y/n slept lightly that night while he slept through the night calmly, she was just happy to see him not wake up until morning.

the olympics came and y/n stood with don at the dock. he looked down at her with some nerves, she smiled at him lightly. “push through. i believe in you. america does too.” she added. she kissed his cheek and let him join the guys, he smiled and they all jokingly nudged him.

“thanks for getting our don happy and moving.” bobby thanked her, smiling and winking. y/n waved him off and smiled, “good luck bobby. yell at him if needed.” she said.

the coaches watched with y/n, the race was remarkable. y/n watched bobby spark don back up, and they pushed towards first place. it was a questionable ending.

y/n paced on the dock, waiting for the answer. ulbrickson watched ahead as the man walked to the microphone; everyone went silent as he held up the photo. “america.” he declared. cheers roared through the stadium and the boys cheered. y/n smiled and joined ulbrickson and tom, who watched proudly.

they all watched the boys pass the wreath, which they brought back to her and picked flowers for her as thanks for everything. thanks for taking care of their boy. hugs were shared and don stayed back. “how are you feeling?” she asked him. “like i could spend the rest of my life with you.” he said, boldly. the statement took her aback and she smiled, “i won’t ask you yet, but let me take you out first.” he added.

the boys cheered, knowing he was going to ask her to be with him somehow. y/n blushed, “i’m yours.” she responded. they shared a smile and returned to the team. the boys teased don all their way back to the rooms.

don sat in his bed, exhausted. y/n walked up to him and checked his forehead. “olympic winner.” she smiled, which he returned. “i won when i got to share a room with the brains and beauty we call the team nurse.” he admitted, nicknaming her the brains and beauty.

y/n beamed and couldn’t stop herself, she kissed him softly and he tensed. yet he relaxed at her touch and pulled her close, taking in the moment. she pulled away and he was blushing, smiling, and scared. “i’ll be fine, i had to make it up to you.” she assured.

— j’s note. this was super long, but i’m sure you guys don’t mind. i hope you enjoyed, and i hope to write another sometime soon! i’m busy with school and some mental stuff, but once i get ideas i’ll write you guys more.

[terry-perry]

Just Business?

Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader

Part 2 to this imagine

Technically Part 3 if you wish to include these headcanons

Requested by @lokis-imaginary-friend: If you’re not averse to it I had a thought while reading this….what if y/n overheard this conversation and feels as though she’s being treated as a transaction. Idk I could just see some angst coming from this for y/n followed by whatever fluff you come up with.

Additional tags: @martinys-world

Fluff will come in a later chapter (hopefully). Enjoy!

You walked home with a spring in your step. You were happy to find the perfect set of pajamas for your boyfriend. Alastor didn't require much sleep, based on the nights you spent together and he'd spend most of them watching you, lurking among the swamp in his room, or tending to the hotel. Regardless, you knew he wanted to look his best even at more casual hours like bedtime. It was great then that you found the red silk pajamas that were perfect for him, especially since you found a matching robe that reminded you of his regular attire.

It'd been about six months since you'd been together and things were going well. Now that things were public too, you enjoyed your time more freely. The fact you two were going out interested many people, with gossip of it being all over the news. Thankfully, the paparazzi weren't stupid enough to film your dates. They must've heard the screams of that one photographer who was bold enough to sneak a photo of you on a picnic date by the Lake of Fire. Alastor was sure to broadcast his torment over a rendition of La Vie En Rose as a reminder not to intrude on your alone time.

You knew the kind of man/demon Alastor was before you became a couple. You heard the stories as well as his broadcasts. You were there during the sudden disappearances of various overlords and how it coincided with said broadcasts. No sane sinner would want to risk getting involved with someone like him. Due to how more curious than afraid of him you were and how touched and important you felt whenever Alastor threatened others who disrespected you, you had an inkling that your sanity wasn't all there. That was okay with you; you were already in Hell.

Your mother approved of him as did your sisters, which resulted in another reason you grew to love him. He enjoyed spending time with your family, too, judging from how he'd come to dinner, joke with Clara and Odette, and share light pleasantries with Carmilla. You could see they were really warming up to him and vice versa.

You might not have tamed the beast, but it certainly amazed you how much of him you got to have for yourself. It was almost too good to be true.

You were finally home after spending some time at the mall. You don't know why your mother needed you out of the house but you didn't question it. She was sometimes wary of those who did business with the family and would rather let herself handle things. If she was still talking with them, you'd do your best to sneak into your room.

Upon entering the manor, however, you heard your mother say some things that made your ears perk up:

"You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"

Her daughter? Who exactly was she talking about, and to whom? Her voice was coming from the library it seemed. You did your best to creep over and stood outside to hear more. What came next was certainly a shock:

"Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come from a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"

You felt sick to your stomach just then. What was that; did you hear that correctly? He made it sound like you were just a pet to him - a mere plaything with a purpose.

A humiliating desire to cry swept through you, along with a small hope that your mother would put him in his place. She wouldn't take someone using her daughter lightly.

"If I were you, I'd do the same, I suppose,"

Now that's what brought out the tears.

What the hell was going on?

"You'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her."

Breathing became difficult as this unexpected betrayal weighed on your broken heart. Was this all just a plan between Alastor and your mother? Was this all a big matchmaking con that would lead to good benefits for them?

"You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction."

You never thought your mother would have the gall to sacrifice your happiness for business purposes. She was always the type to lay her life on the line for you and your sisters. She did just that during the last Extermination Day when facing a team of Exorcists. To hear that the woman you grew up admiring treated you like a piece of property was too much to handle.

Let's not forget about Alastor! You actually believed he cared about you. Were all those times you went out on lunch and dinner dates, spent time with each other's loved ones, and shared intimate dances just part of a ruse to get you to fall for him? The fact you were nothing but entertainment with benefits saddened and embarrassed you because what everyone said about him was right.

You were right; this was all just too good to be true.

You now were fueled with anger and decided to use it to confront the two traitors.

"A transaction?"

Upon hearing your voice, Carmilla and Alastor turned towards the doorway where you stood defiantly with the Carmine glare on your face. Your normally well-composed mother expressed more worry than you ever saw her with. Meanwhile, Alastor kept his large grin as usual, but you could tell he was shocked due to how big his eyes were, and it almost looked too painful for him to smile.

"Y/N-"

"Is that all I am to the two of you?" You asked, blinking back tears. "A business deal - just a prize to be won? Is that why you needed me out of the house Mom? To discuss my dowry?"

Carmilla's astonishment kept her from speaking. She wanted to explain that this was simply a way to assure you a good future if you continued things with Alastor and that no harm would come to you, but she was at a loss for words seeing how betrayed you looked.

"And you Alastor!" You rounded on him next. The man you loved for half a year but now don't even know what to make of him. He's practically a stranger now. "I knew you weren't a saint, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to only date me for my family. I can't believe you'd use me like that!"

"Y/N," he began, getting out of his seat to go towards you with more emotion than you ever saw him, even with his smile remaining. "Sweetheart, you misunderstand -"

"You saw me as nothing but a prize," you uttered quietly, backing away from him with your head down. "You already have connections to the throne, so it's best to protect it with your connection to the biggest collection of weapons in Hell, right?"

His silence spoke to you more than any clever words he could conjure up for you. His silence spoke the truth.

You didn't stay much longer, especially since neither could bother to give you a proper response. You ran out of the house, ignoring their pleas to stay. You needed to get away and reflect on everything.

Alone.

[holylulusworld]

Dishonored

Title: Dishonored

Summary: You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace.

Pairing: Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader; Lord Barnes x Princess!Reader (no polyamory)

Warnings: heavy angst (I’m not joking), lies, manipulation, hurting people for revenge, implied loss of innocence, unwanted/unplanned pregnancy, Steve being the worst, sadness, hopelessness, desperation, suicidal tendency/suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, fluff, we stan Bucky in this story

Rating: Mature

Words: 2,7 k 

Square filled for @anyfandomfluffbingo: Square 9: “I never loved you.”

Square filled for Lulu’s Winter Bingo 2022: Square 4: Winter

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: C3: Free space – Royal AU

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C2: Sharing body heat

Please heed the warnings for this story. It contains triggering content such as attempted suicide.

You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace. 

How do you move on when your honor and grace get ripped away by the man who promised you love and devotion?

He lured you in – sweet-talked you into giving him the one thing you cherished the most. Your honor and innocence. Reserved for your future husband, and the man loving you unconditionally.

Lies. All lies.

It was a moment of weakness making you stumble and fall. Into his bed. Into his arms.

He took you apart, gentle, and slow. A miracle to you when you think about the aftermath.

A few months earlier, your father’s castle

“I can't believe Prince Steven came to woo me,” you mumbled to yourself. The prince arrived earlier this morning and you hoped your dreams would come true. You always felt a deep connection to the prince, and now, he’s here to talk to your father.

“Princess!” Your chambermaid scolded. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold! Your father called for you. He wants you to meet Prince Steven. He will stay at the castle for a few weeks until he travels to his uncle’s castle.”

Your face fell. He came here to sit out the approaching snowstorm, nothing else.

How could you have been foolish enough to believe he came to ask for your hand?

“I’m…coming,” you tried to not cry. All your hopes and dreams ended up on the ground - shattered and torn. “We cannot let our guest wait.”

“Father,” you stepped confidently toward your father to peck his cheek. He was always soft on you, and let you break a few rules. Especially when it came to etiquette. You’re his little thunderstorm, a wild child with a bright mind and softness that’s hard to find among royals. “I heard we have a guest.”

“He’ll be here in a minute,” the king softly said. He ran his hand over your hair and patted your head. “I need you on your best behavior. I angered the prince, and we don’t want him to tell his father the king about it.”

You wrinkled your forehead. “What? I don’t understand,” you whispered so no one could hear. Your father is one of the kindest people you know. How could he possibly anger the prince?

“Your Highness,” Steven walked inside the throne room, accompanied by his best friend, and confident Lord Barnes. The brunette watched you with interest while the prince’s eyes drifted toward your brother and his fiancé, Lady Margaret Carter. “I see the princess will join us for supper.”

“Your Highness,” you turned your attention toward the prince. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. It’s been too long.” 

Steven eagerly took your offered hand to press a chaste kiss to the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for having me.”

“Lord Barnes,” you smiled at the brunette. Last time you saw him he was reading a book in the garden, chuckling at something he read. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay. The library is always open for you.”

“Princess,” Lord Barnes smiled wildly. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh…my…you are too kind, Lord Barnes,” you replied gracefully and batted your eyelashes. “It’s always a pleasure having you around.”

Supper was more than pleasant. Lord Barnes kept the conversation flowing while the prince watched you the whole time. He complimented you and raised his glass on your beauty and grace.

You were surprised. His eyes seemed to be glued to your brother and his fiancé. Out of a sudden Prince Steven turned his attention toward you. He even stopped his friend from talking to you.

Your cheeks heated up, and you felt warm when he placed his hand next to yours, subtly brushing your pinkie with his finger.

It was the first time he was so close, and you allowed yourself to bask in his attention for as long as it lasted. 

The next days felt like a dream come true. Steven asked you to spend time with him and go for a walk in the gardens. For propriety's sake, a chaperon accompanied you and Steven. But you didn’t care at all.

The moments spent with the prince were the best of your life. He made you smile, and laugh and your heart flutter.

All that mattered to you was his smile, his soft blue eyes, and the way he looked at you. It was the same way your father looked at your father and your brother at his chosen bride.

“I wish these days will never end,” you dared to hope Steven would say the same.

He took you by surprise when he replied. “Even if they end,” he looked you deep in the eyes, leaning a little closer to whisper, “I’ll always come back to you."

The prince was about to press a soft kiss on your forehead when your chaperone stepped in.

“Your Highness, please do not forget you are wooing for a princess, not a wench. Remember your manners,” she tutted. “We should head back inside. It’s getting colder, and I can smell the snow.”

Marjorie, your chaperone was right. Winter came faster than expected, accompanied by a snowstorm that wouldn’t let up.

The whole country was suffering from the cold weather and the snow masses.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The snowstorm and unforgiving winter kept Steven and Lord Barnes from leaving your castle.

You didn’t mind. Most of the time you spend with Steven, chatting about his kingdom, childhood, and love.

Yes. Love.

You held hands, and when your chaperone wasn’t looking, he even stole kisses. Steven promised you that love is the most precious thing to protect in this world.

He played you well, you give him that.

Your heart couldn’t take being apart from Steven for a single moment. So, you gave him everything you had to offer, and what he was craving. 

On one of these cold winter nights, you let him sneak into your bedroom, and take you to bed. He kissed you, and when he settled between your thighs you believed he would make you his wife and love you forever.

When it was over, he smirked, and his eyes grew cold. Your heart dropped as he hastily redressed. “Steven, what are you doing?”

“My plan went well, didn’t it?” He looked at you, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You grabbed the blanket to cover your body. The one he ruined with his touch. 

“I don’t understand, Steven. My love. What has gotten into you? You said you love me.” You cried as he looked at you, wrinkling his nose at your disheveled state. 

“I never loved you,” he coldly replied. “Your father forced the woman I love to marry your brother,” he sneered and curled his lips. “I stole his beloved daughter’s innocence. What will he do if he finds out you are carrying my bastard under your heart?”

“Steven, I don’t…” Your voice trembled. “Why? I…”

“I came here to ask your father to stop this insanity and let me marry Margaret. I love her dearly. He refused and wanted to send me away.”

You remember now. Your father told you that he upset Steven.

“But…she came here, begging my father to help her. She wanted to marry my brother. Margaret wasn’t my father’s first choice. Some princesses and ladies were more beautiful and with a better reputation. He agreed because she was in love with my brother and threatened to kill herself if he didn’t allow her to marry my brother.”

“What?” He looked a little shell-shocked at your words but shook his head. “Lies!” Steven yelled, making you flinch. “Shut your mouth, wench. Never talk about Margaret like that again.” 

He left without looking back and slammed the door shut. Leaving you devasted, heartbroken, and ruined.

After that night, he never looked at you. He declared that he was going to stay at the guest wing until it was time to leave.

One month later, …

Hopelessness is the only thing left in your life. You can feel a new life growing in your womb. Every passing day brings you closer to doomsday. 

Soon you won’t be able to hide the secret. Soon everyone will know you got dishonored.

Foolish girl letting a man take what should have never been his.

You run your hand over your belly, choking out another sob. If you want to save what’s left of your honor, you must take matters into your own hands.

Shakily you glance at the balcony parapet again. If you do it now, you can save your honor, and your father’s. 

Stepping toward the parapet you release a shuddery breath.

What if it’s not high enough? What if you survive? What if they ask questions?

“No,” you step away from the parapet. This is the wrong way to go. You must let it look like an accident. Or maybe, if you can find someone selling you a potion, you can end your life painlessly and fast.

The river looked inviting to you. You looked at the floating water, fascinated by its power and grace.

Once upon a time, you were gracefully too. 

That was until your grace and innocence got ripped away from you like it meant nothing to him. “If I step into the river, it will be over soon. Maybe they will believe it was an accident. I slipped and fell into the river.”

Slowly, you stepped toward the water, closing your eyes for a moment. This was the only way to save your honor. The water would wash away the sin you committed and take your secret with it.

You took another step, and another until you felt the cold water kiss your feet. “Cold.” You whispered but walked farther into the water, feeling it tug at your gown. “It will be over soon, my little stardust.” You rubbed your belly. “I’m so sorry.”

The water surrounded you, almost reaching your waistline as you heard someone call for you. “Princess! NO!”

It was Lord Barnes. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw you in the river. He knew something was wrong with the way his friend acted out of a sudden.

“Nooo!” You heard the water splashing and then, two strong arms wrapped around you like anchors holding you in this world. “What are you doing, princess.”

“I cannot…he dishonored me,” you choked out a heartbreaking sob. “I cannot remain. No man will want me. Not after he took my innocence and…the baby…it will be a bastard.”

Lord Barnes stiffened when the words floated out of your mouth like the water in the river. He couldn’t believe his friend and confidant would do such a thing to you for revenge.

“My love. No,” he dragged you out of the water, and wrapped you in his arms, letting you cry in his chest until there were no tears left in you. Lord Barnes said. “Stay with me, my love. I’ll keep you warm. We need to keep each other warm.”

“But I—” You lifted your head to look at him with tear-clouded eyes. “You should’ve let me die. Father will…”

“He won’t know. Not about what happened with Steven, nor what you did today. What a coincidence I came by when you slipped and fell into the river,” he whispered and kissed your temple. “I came back to ask for your hand, and to wed you in spring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his words. “I’m…ruined. You don’t want me, or my bastard child.”

“I will love it like my own, my love,” he kissed your cheek. “You are not ruined, princess. Only a little broken. But we can fix this. I got my heart broken once too. We will heal together.”

“My lord, the babe…it’s not yours…I can’t…you can’t.”

“It’s cold, let’s head back to the castle and get you warm. I’ll call for a healer…”

“Not a word about her condition except for the cold,” Lord Barnes warned the healer. “If you say a word about the other thing,” he patted his sword, “you won’t be able to spend all the gold you’ll get.”

“Not a word,” the healer nodded and walked back inside your room.

“Marry my daughter?” Your father eyed Lord Barnes warily. He came back a few days after Prince Steven and he left the castle. Alone, and with a grim expression. “But…what about the prince?”

“He’s a foolish man, my king,” Lord Barnes growled. “He lost his heart one too many times to a pretty face. I cherish your daughter, her grace, and her kindness. If you allow me to woo her, I’ll be forever grateful. I’m not a prince but love her dearly.”

“She admires you too,” the king replied. “She talked about you, and that you love to read as much as she does. If my daughter agrees, I’ll agree on your bond.”

Lord Barnes didn’t wait until spring to wed you. He insisted on marrying you within another month. 

You watched him with sad eyes as he desperately tried to fix his friend’s mistake.

“Lord Barnes, you can still find a better bride,” you took his hand to press a soft kiss on his knuckles. “I’m thankful that you tried to save my honor, but I cannot make you miserable for the rest of your life.”

“My love,” he whispered. “I fell for you the first time we met. If only I knew about Steven’s plans, I wouldn’t have stepped back and let him woo for you.”

“It’s not your fault, only mine,” you sniffled, and wiped your eyes. “I wasn’t raised to become a wench. I decided to let him do this to me…”

“Y/N, you’re not a w-.” He shook his head. “Never use that word again,” he angrily said. “He was the one stealing the light from you. You’re still an innocent angel.”

“I know that I’m not,” you hid your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to let the mask you wear so well slip. “You’ll get damaged goods, my Lord.”

“Call me James, or Bucky, my love,” he gently rubbed your back. “I promise, you are far from damaged goods for me. You are going to be my wife and I’ll love you. And the babe will get all my love too. They are going to mine.”

“What a beautiful pair, don’t you think?” Your mother asked. “She looks happy, my love.”

Your father smiled wildly as he watched you and your groom share the first dance. You smiled and laughed as Bucky twirled you around.

“I was worried about our daughter for a while. Prince Steven’s departure left her heartbroken,” the king held out his hand for his wife. “Let us join them and celebrate their union.”

The queen smiled and took your father’s offered hand. She didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

A mother always knows when her child is in need. 

She will never break her promise to herself and tell her husband that she saw you at the river when Lord Barnes saved you, or that she heard what you confessed.

“He is a good man, my love,” the queen whispered. “Our beloved daughter couldn't find a better man.”

While everyone celebrated your wedding and danced, Steven stood in a corner, watching you and his best friend happy together.

He squared his jaw and balled his hands into fists. His heart dropped watching Margaret and your brother join you on the dance floor. 

Everything he did was in vain…

Tags in reblog.

[kcwriter-blog]

Just recently I asked myself an important question. Why do I, a person not usually into angst, continue to romance Solas. It’s not like it’s going to end differently. My Lavellan will always get her heart broken. 

The simple answer? It’s worth it. There is a gentleness in how they treat each other that you don’t find in many real-life relationships much less in a video game. It’s soft, quiet, and tender. It’s what love looks like after years with someone you truly care about.

How can that be? Solas isn’t being honest with her. To Solas’ credit, he realizes that. He takes her to Crestwood to tell her the truth. When he realizes he can’t, he breaks it off. Which in and of itself is an act of love.

What he is honest about is his love for Lavellan. He never denies his feelings. A case in point is the aftermath of the first kiss. It would be so easy for Solas to say that he just got caught up in the moment. He doesn’t. He may say that it’s been a long time and that he thinks a relationship isn’t a good idea, but he never denies that he has feelings for her. Even when he breaks it off, he refuses to lie and say she was a casual dalliance or that he doesn’t love her. 

For her part, Lavellan never pushes Solas. When he asks for time to think, she grants it. “Take all the time you need.” She understands him. He has trust issues. Getting into a relationship with her would be a big step for him. She may not know what made him that way, but she cares enough to let him decide if a relationship is something he truly wants.  She is willing to wait.

This demonstrates a respect for each other and for their budding relationship. They are honest about their feelings. They are willing to take it slow. They talk about it like adults. They go into it knowing there will be risks.

An underrated aspect of the relationship is the conversations where Solas shares his recollections of things he saw in the Fade. Solas isn’t just randomly pulling stories out of his hat. He is telling Lavellan about the things he saw that meant the most to him. He is opening up to her, trusting that she won’t laugh at him or dismiss him. For her part, she actively listens. It’s a quiet kind of loving and, for me, one of the most intimate things you can do in a relationship.

The balcony scene is another place where this plays out. Solas wants to be with Lavellan. He has come up to the balcony to tell her that. He still has reservations. He wants her but he doesn’t want to hurt her. 

Lavellan knows he must be the one to make the choice. Instead of kissing him, she puts her hands behind her back. If he wants this, he will have to kiss her. He balks. She asks him not to go. Many people interpret this as begging. That’s not it. She is telling him, quietly, that if he leaves, she won’t wait any longer. “It would be kinder in the long run but losing you would…” He can’t. He loves her. He decides to take the risk. 

There is also a strong spiritual component to their relationship. Solas isn’t attracted by her physical beauty. He is all about the spirit. To him she is wonderful. Someone wise. Someone who thinks before she acts. He calls her beautiful in Crestwood, but I think he is talking about her soul, not what she looks like. 

There are many other small moments that give us clues as to what their relationship looks like post balcony scene. Solas attempts to comfort her at the Winter Palace by dancing or taking her in his arms. She reassures him that he can trust her. They hold hands in Crestwood. He calls her “my heart” and it’s clear she is precious to him. His voice when he speaks with her in Crestwood is intimate. It’s a vocal tenor we don’t hear anywhere else. He remonstrates with Sera when she jokes about his relationship with Lavellan. 

I find it interesting that even if Lavellan is angry, when Solas finds the broken orb she isn’t fist pumping because he didn’t get what he wanted. She treats him with kindness. 

He goes out of his way to tell her what they had was real – or that she was right to be angry. No matter what happened they acknowledge each other’s feelings. 

Everything paints a picture of an intensely private, intimate, loving relationship. That’s what I love about it and it’s why I keep coming back for more. 

[oolongteaboba]

# ◞ ˚ ─ RED LACE (OR LACK THEREOF)

info. rocket raccoon/f!reader smut. est. 3.2k words.

you and rocket share the same bunk, so you've been wearing nothing but a shirt to get his attention. and who knows? he might like you back.

a/n. hi hello first actual post on here! quick comment for the fingering part, just pretend rocket stole peter's nail clippers LMAO, i forgot to clarify that while writing whoops. also, you can alternatively read the fic here on ao3.

In the past year you’ve spent with the guardians and living on the Milano, you began to appreciate each of them unconditionally; you were family, and they were yours.  Peter, a Terran like you, was a great conversationist, and you bonded over things you missed from Earth.  Gamora’s intimidating sometimes, but she acts like the sister you never had and has your best interests in mind.  You haven’t known Mantis for long, but she’s kind and gentle; plus, she’s starting to warm up to you.  Drax is some fun company, although most of your jokes fly over his head.  Groot clings onto you like a puppy, and the sprout insists on sitting between you and Rocket during dinnertime.  And well, Rocket is… Rocket.

Aboard the Milano, you shared a small bunk with Rocket and Groot.  Tonight, Groot was in Gamora’s bunk since she had Groot-bedtime-story-duty tonight, so you and Rocket had the already cramped bunk to yourselves.  Sharing a room with the two of them wasn’t entirely terrible, but you do have to deal with Rocket’s tech stuff being scattered all over the floor.

His bed wasn’t too far from yours, with the space between you only about two feet.  He’s working on a new set of blasters; you’re laying in bed on your back with your right leg over the left.  After being engrossed with his equipment for who knows how long, Rocket looks up from his machinery to glance at you.

“Christ, does it hurt to put on some pants for once?”  Rocket interjects, and you turn your head toward him.

“We share a room together.  You’ve seen me change before, and that never fazed you.  Besides, Groot isn’t even here.  It’s just us.”  He only replies with a huff and an eye roll.  “Besides, why do you care so much?”

Rocket scoffs, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows.  “I’m not the one walking around in a loose shirt and fuckin’ red lacy underwear.”

You avert your eyes from his as your cheeks grow hot, and you pull the hem of your shirt down mid-thigh to preserve your already damaged dignity.

“It’s all that was clean,” you mutter below your breath, just loud enough for him to hear, although from the look on his face, he doesn’t believe you.  “Plus, it’s hot in here, Rocket.  The air conditioning isn’t working correctly, we’re in space, and you haven’t fixed it yet,” you reply, uncrossing your legs.  He inhales sharply, returning to his blaster.

“I told you already, I don’t have the right parts yet,” he snaps at you.  “Go fix it yourself if you’re gonna be a bitch about it.”

“So the oh-so-great Rocket Raccoon can build bombs from scrap material but can’t fix the AC unit?”

“I ain’t a raccoon,” he snarls, and it takes every fiber in your body to resist the urge not to continue teasing him.  “And I told you this shit already: we don’t have the needed parts.”

“Y’know, maybe I’ll start walking around with pants on if the air conditioning is fixed.”

Rocket exhales and lets out a small pfft that almost sounds like a quiet laugh.  “You’re bein’ whinier than Quill right now, know that?”

“You’re so sweet to me, Rocket.  Have I mentioned you’re the kindest person on this ship?” You smile, albeit sarcastically, and the corners of his mouth instinctively curl up in response.  You catch his brief smile for a fleeting moment and make eye contact, but he promptly looks away in embarrassment.

(You might tease him about it later, though.  He’s smiling because of you.)

“Go to sleep, doll.”  Rocket absentmindedly shoves the machinery onto his makeshift nightstand with a slight grin still etched on his features.  His disposition has improved in the past year; he smiles a lot more, though he tries to hide it, and the guardians have noticed.  Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

“What about you?  Aren’t you going to sleep?”  His eyes look into yours, albeit briefly, and they’re warm, brown, and pretty, and you internally berate yourself for not noticing them sooner.

“Nah.  You Terrans need more sleep than I do.  And you look terrible, by the way.”  You fail at attempting to stifle a giggle at his sudden change in demeanor, which Rocket barely notices.  

“Aw, thank you, Rocket.  Love you too.”  Your eyelids flutter, and you pull a blanket over your body.  “You might not be Terran, but you should sleep too, y’know.  You’re always reprimanding Groot for staying up late, you hypocrite.”

Rocket’s features soften; he shoots you a toothy grin, although there’s a thought nagging at you, telling you there’s more than just sarcasm in his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah.  G’night, doll.”

You shoot Rocket a smile that’s brighter than the damn sun before shutting your eyes.  Unfortunately, you’re asleep before you can say ‘good night’ back.

-

Three nights later, tonight is Drax’s turn for Groot-bedtime-story-duty.

The temperature in the Milano isn’t as nearly inhabitable as last time, all because of you and Quill’s endless pleas for the AC to be fixed.  Thankfully, Peter hates absurdly hot weather just as much as you do.  Either that or hatred of heat is a Terran thing.  Somehow, the broken air conditioning didn’t affect the other non-Terran guardians on the ship as much.

Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together plays faintly in the background; you’re lounging on your bunk, back against the mattress, as you read one of Quill’s childhood comic books when the door opens, and Rocket enters your shared bunk.

As soon as he walks in, Rocket scoffs and rolls his eyes.  “For the love of god, I fixed the AC as you asked.  Put some goddamn pants on.”

“Hello to you too, Rocket,” you give him a smile before continuing reading, too focused on Quill’s comic book to notice Rocket’s blatant gawking at your exposed legs.  Your leg props up on the other, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.  “And I said maybe I’ll wear pants.”

He jumps in bed, setting Quill’s helmet at the foot of his bunk.  After a job that included killing Abilisks, Peter reluctantly handed it over to Rocket for some significantly postponed repairs and upgrades.

“You’re lucky, know that?  You’re the only person on this ship besides Groot whose shit I tolerate.”

“I love you too, Rocket.  Although, I’m pretty sure you’d shoot Quill if he started walking around the Milano with no pants on,” you answer, eyes still glued to the comic book.

“The only difference is that Quill isn’t the one walking around in his underwear.”

“Rocket, I honestly can’t see why it’s a big deal.  It’s been days since you won’t shut up about it,” you reply, setting Quill’s comic on top of your nightstand.

Rocket looks at you before sighing defeatedly, with some feeling that you can’t put your finger on captured in his eye.  You swallow your spit, and Rocket returns to his bold, unapologetic self.

“Fine.  Fuckin’ hell, we get it, it’s your bunk, and you can do whatever the hell you want-”

He pauses.  Rocket’s eyes trail down from your face to your body, taking in every inch of your revealed skin.

However, it’s too late for you to realize what exactly Rocket’s ogling at.

“Are you… not wearing anything under that shirt?”

You blink, promptly closing your legs (undoubtedly knowing it won’t do or change anything).  The already small space between your bunk and Rocket’s seems even smaller.  Your heartbeat picks up in your chest; Rocket is still rendered speechless.  You’ll never hear the end of it, you swear.  His gaze meets yours, but you don’t answer.  What feels like an eternity passes before Rocket speaks up, breaking the silence.

“You dirty fuckin’ girl,” he swears, his tone both degrading and impressed.  Rocket steps down from his bunk and closer to yours, his eyes drinking you in.  From the look on his face, he looks as if he’s about to devour you whole.

“Rocket.”

Hesitantly, Rocket steps back, giving you space.  “Shit, sweetheart.  I’m sorry.  Tell me to leave, and I will.”  He’s reluctant, although the tent in his pants slowly grows, and he isn’t hiding it well.  “We can forget about this.”

“Wait,” you immediately protest before rationale can stop you, grabbing his wrist before he can pull away and leave.  “You can stay.”

From the look on his face, it doesn’t take him much convincing.  He knows what you’re thinking of (and knows what you want).  Rocket tenses; a few moments pass before he speaks up, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I touch you?”

You groan in response, both desperately and unashamedly.  Both your voice and body are tempting, practically inviting Rocket in.  He’s thought of you like this: both in daydreams and dreams, but he never would’ve imagined the moment (or you) to be more perfect.  “Please, Rocket.  I need you so damn badly.”

(Rocket’s definitely gonna bring this up later.  However, anything but him is entirely off your mind.)

He gladly complies, and his hands go underneath your shirt to meet your chest before massaging your breasts.  The sensation of his paws is foreign but welcome, one hand playing with your nipple as his tongue swirls around the other, gently nipping at your flesh.  He continues sucking, maintaining eye contact while your face burns from the intimacy.

The sound of Rocket’s mouth leaving your tits makes an explicit and wet pop sound, and drool pools in the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck, doll, I’ve been thinkin’ of doing this forever.  Couldn’t stop thinking about you since I got a look at that pair of that red, lacy underwear of yours and could barely keep my fuckin’ hands off.”

Rocket continues his ministrations on your chest, with one hand traveling down to your thigh, close to your puffy clit.  You elicit a formerly suppressed moan from your lips, much to Rocket’s inflated ego.  His pace is slow and teasing as if he’s waiting for you to break and beg for him to quicken his pace.

“Shit, you’re so pretty like this, all for me,” Rocket whispers in an intonation you can barely hear, almost impressed by how receptive and eager you are for his touch.  The ache between your thighs gradually amplifies from his praises, and you weaken at his attention.  Your breath quickens as his fingers trail up your thigh and languidly circles around your needy clit.  All words are stripped from your tongue, leaving you unable to speak.  Rocket’s fur almost tickles your skin as he marks love bites on you, hard enough to bruise.

“Fuh- fuck, Rocket, you feel so damn good,” you pant, air seemingly wrung out of your lungs.  “I need-”

You’re cut off by Rocket giving your cunt a firm spank, drawing out an embarrassingly vocal moan.  “Need what, dollface?”  He grins with a look of pride planted on his face as he gives your breasts and cunt much-needed attention, albeit slowly.

“I need you inside me,” you mewl, your cheeks feeling hot from the humiliation.  You know Rocket knows what you want; he’s eager to give it but wants to hear you beg for it first.

Somehow, his grin grows even more.  His slow circling on your clit stops, and you audibly groan, wordlessly begging for him to continue.  “I’ve barely touched ya, and you already want my cock inside?”

“Fuck you, Rocket,” you huff, heat building inside your lower abdomen and goosebumps growing on your skin.  “Please, I need you.”

He slips a paw inside your dripping cunt, and it takes a few seconds to get used to the new feeling.  “Gotta be patient, sweetheart.  You’re so pretty when you’re like that, know that?”

You nod, relishing the feeling of his fingers finding your G-spot, then slowly curling upwards.  Though his hands lack girth, he makes up for it with agility.

“Was this 'no panties' stunt all for me, dollface?”

“Yes. All for you, Rocket,” you answer absentmindedly, too focused on how good his fingers feel inside you.  Rocket’s fingers develop a languid rhythm, scissoring and stretching your walls to fit his cock.  You bite your lip to keep back a whimper but fail.  With every movement from Rocket, you feel yourself melting into the blankets and mattress, reduced to putty in Rocket’s hands.

“Keep going,” you mutter, surprised at your current capability to form words.  Rocket’s fingers gently press against your G-spot, eliciting a moan.  “G-go faster, Rocket.”

Instead of speeding up as you hoped, he completely stops, leaving you to writhe underneath him.  You tense up, missing the blissful sensation of his paws working inside you.  “What happened to you saying ‘please,’ huh?  You can do better than that, dollface.”

You tighten around his fingers, and you can practically feel the grin on his face as he waits for your pleas.  “God, fuck, Rocket, you know damn well what you’re doing to me,” you groan, heavy breaths interrupting almost every word.

“Try again, sweetheart,” he retorts, savoring the desperation all over your face.  Eager to feel more of him, you steadily move your hips, fucking yourself onto his fingers in response to his refusal.  “Beg me for it, and I’ll fuck you, just like you wanted.”

“Please, Rocket?  I need you to fuck me, please; I want your cock inside me so goddamn badly- please just fuck me already-”

Rocket, convinced by your pleas, complies and interrupts you by undoing his clothing and unzipping his pants while you whimper at the sudden removal of his now-soaked fingers.

He lines his hips up with yours, the look on his face ravenous; he finally pushes into you slowly.  You’re left to grip tightly on his shoulders, watching as his cock disappears into you.  He’s smaller than an average male human but relatively girthy, and you feel his tip brush against your G-spot.  You whimper from his entrance, feeling full as he completely bottoms you out, massaging your inner walls.

Rocket’s breath hitches as he slowly starts to work you open, his hands spreading your thighs apart for better access.  He groans, setting a languid pace as he ruts into your warm and inviting cunt.  You raise your hips a little higher in response, aching to feel more of him.  His current tempo is sloppier than before, now being guided by his pleasure instead of yours alone.  The wet sound of Rocket’s hips rolling into yours is pornographic and explicit; you can hear him fucking in and out of your cunt.  You’re sure that your wetness has gotten all over Rocket’s fur by now, but at the moment, he doesn’t mind.

One of his hands leaves your thigh to offer attention to your swollen clit, gently circling around it, while the other hand grips you harshly.  Rocket becomes noticeably more vocal as his pace quickens, albeit opting for low grunts and moans.  The pleasure builds up in your lower stomach, and your lower lip trembles as you grip the bunk’s bedsheets.

“Shit, Rocket, you feel so good,” you mewl, stumbling over your words while he erratically thrusts into you.  Rocket’s greedy for every moan that leaves your lips, hoping to wring every one of them out your mouth.  He grunts, pace unfaltering as your walls flutter around his cock, tightening around him like you don’t want him to let go.

“You’re doin’ so well for me, sweetheart,” Rocket huffs, his almost soft voice contradicting his frenzied rhythm.  You whimper and whine with each thrust, enjoying how Rocket fills you up with his cock, and how the curve hits your G-spot.  “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me.”

Tension builds in your stomach, and your toes curl from the sheer pleasure.  Despite Rocket’s unrelenting tempo, the feel of his hands and the look on his face is strangely soft and tender.  His fingers circle around your clit more quickly, and you feel heat spread under your skin.

“Rocket, I’m getting close,” you murmur, the burning coil within your abdomen intensifying with each second he pumps inside you.  With a moan, you let out a shaky breath as he rocks his hips into yours, feeling dangerously close to your climax.  From watching him loudly groan and how he haphazardly ruts into you, he’s also close to orgasm.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so beautiful like this,” Rocket praises, inhaling sharply as his cock twitches inside you.  “C’mon, sweetheart.  Cum on my cock.”

Without a second thought, you nod, succumbing to pleasure as Rocket pounds himself into you, his hand rubbing at your clit.  Tiny beads of sweat pool on your forehead as you begin to finish, and Rocket rolls a thumb over your nipple, almost encouraging you to cum.  Your walls spasm around his cock, begging him to do the same.  The feeling of him inside you, combined with the constant attention your clit receives, is overstimulating, and you’re barely able to hold back from coming.

“Inside me, Rocket,” you beg, trembling from sensitivity and euphoria.  “Please, cum inside me.”

Rocket only grins, a smug look forming on his face.  The white coil only amplifies, reducing you to a wordless, desperate mess underneath him until it finally snaps, and you come undone on his cock.  Eyes rolling back from the increased pleasure, you see stars in your blurred vision; you spasm around him, and with a few last strokes, Rocket cums inside you, emptying himself inside you.  His pace slows as you convulse around him, attempting to milk every drop of his cum, and your heartbeat slows from its high.

His last strokes are sloppy and frantic; Rocket huffs as he finally drains every bit of himself inside you.  Your muscles tense from aftershocks, and you hear Rocket silently swear.  With an embarrassingly wet squelch sound, Rocket pulls out his cock, leaving some of his cum to drip from your cunt, and onto your thighs.  Trying to regain your strength, you momentarily remain silent, basking in the afterglow, and he does the same.

Your breathing is labored, still coming down from your high.  “Sorry I got your fur wet,” you beam, your knees still weak from copulation, and Rocket lets out a low laugh.  You shift your body over to the far side of the bunk, offering Rocket space to sit next to you.  Without a word, he complies, his back laid against your front, and he sighs in contentment.

“I’ll shower in the mornin,’ doll,” he replies, fixing his messy hair, attempting to freshen up.  Rocket’s head rests on your neck; hesitantly, you put your arm around him, but he doesn’t mind it, although it takes him a second to adjust to the newfound affection.  You contentedly sigh, languidly running your fingers through his soft fur, and Rocket practically melts at the touch of your fingers.

“Y'know, I really like you, Rocket,” you quietly whisper, although just loud enough for him to hear.  Rocket doesn’t respond for a few seconds, leaving you in empty silence and a tiny bit of nervousness. 'Love' is a strong word; the word 'like' is weaker. However, right now, both don't fit right coming out of your mouth. It's too late to retract saying 'I really like you,' but before you can conjure a second thought, Rocket gathers his voice.

“Yeah.  I like you a whole lot too." Your face softens, and you wrap your arms around him, surprisingly being met with no protest from Rocket.  You softly kiss his forehead and doze off into slumber, Rocket huddled in your arms. Tomorrow morning, you’re certain Star-Lord would barge into your bunk to wake you up for the next contract, but for now, you’re happy to lay in bed and worry about it later.

[anacdoce]

I Wish

Chapter 1 - Under the moonlight

Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader, implied sorcerer)

Rating: T

Word count: 2k

Warnings: some angst; hurt; after the events of the game

Summary: Astarion fills his heart with guilt, thinking he is unworthy of your love and is trying to push you away from him.

a/n: This is my first fanfic writing and I'm a bit nervous about it. So please let me hear your thoughts about it.

This chapter functions like a prologue for the rest of the story, because initially it was supposed to be a one shot thing. But then my brain couldn't stop there and I have already some more material written after this.

At last let me make some mentions here: first of all let me thank to @bloodlessdarling who kindly let me use her beautiful photo of Astarion, which inspired me to write all of this chapter. Second, I want to thank to @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate for her kind words, encouraging me to share my writing. And to finish let me thank my husband, who patiently has been dealing with my Astarion obsession for the past few months and for his reading and helping with this fic (english is not my native language and I was never confortable on writing in it).

Read on ao3

Next chapter

Astarion sat by the fire, reading, a routine he had maintained for the last few months of your life together. But something is off. You can tell.

For a few days he has been avoiding you. He doesn't seem interested in talking or sharing moments of intimacy with you. Sometimes you catch him glaring at you, but as soon as you exchange eyes with him he just pretends that he is doing something very important that has nothing to do with you. And you started to get worried.

This isn't the first time, though. 

Since you have dealt with the absolute and got free from the tadpoles, you have been on a hunt for a cure for him, to make him able to walk in the sun again.

Gale is helping, researching every tome that he can put his hands on, and you have followed every lead, no matter how small it was. You know that you would do anything for that man. But until now you haven't discovered nothing, and sometimes Astarion gave in to the frustration. And you understood that. You understood when he was not in the mood for joking or talking. You understood when he looked at you with sad eyes and a fragile smile, saying "Don't worry Sweetheart, I will be alright. This will pass..." But in the middle of everything, you were, always, his safe place. Astarion always looked for your lap to recover and regain strength to restart. Never before did he avoid you. So, you are worried.

As you wander through your thoughts you catch him staring at you, with a sad guilty face, and just like the last few times you caught him doing that he just looks away from you.

Enough. 

You want to know what is happening, what is he thinking, why is he acting like this. You can't stand feeling apart from him any longer. Unless... unless that is his wish, to be parted from you.

"Astarion?"

"Yes?" he responded, not lifting his eyes from the book.

"What's wrong, Love?"

He shifts in his chair, uncomfortable. You can feel his tension across the room. His breathing is heavy. "Wrong? Why would you say that?" His voice is low, cold, controlled. 

"Are you avoiding me? You don't talk to me, don't look at me. You haven't touched me for days by now." You tremble. Your heart paces. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He closes his book. You see him shutting his eyes, his hand gripping his book tightly. His stern face, half illuminated by the fire, and you feel, in that moment, he is preparing to shatter your heart in a million pieces. "Yes. There is something, I should have told you sooner. I think..." A pause. He finally looks at you. His ruby eyes piercing yours strongly. "I think this is not working."

Silence.

You feel numb.

All of your world is collapsing. Your head is spinning. If you were not sitting down you would have fallen. "Why are you saying that? I don't understand." You manage to say.

"You will thank me in the future."

Furious, you lift from the chair "Thank you? Why are you doing this to me? Why are you hurting me like this? I love you so much..."  And I thought you loved me too. 

He lifts his head meeting your broken gaze. “I… Just… Don’t argue, please.” You sense a little tremor in his voice. He clears his throat and continues his sentence. “Accept my decision and that there is nothing you can do about it. You don’t believe in it now, but you will be grateful for this.”

As you hear this words dragging from his mouth, you feel your legs starting to betray you. You lose your strength and fall on your knees, already sobbing. In that moment Astarion, instinctively, gets up from the chair and stretches out his arms, as if to catch you while you fall. But he stops himself half way, leading his hands to the head, grabbing his hair instead, seemingly desperate to maintain control. You can feel him struggling with himself. What is he struggling with? What is he doing? 

That’s when you see, just briefly, the pain in his eyes, that pain you are so familiar with.

"Astarion, do you love me?" Your lips trembling.

"That doesn't matter." He replies, breaking eyes with you, staring at the floor.

"Astarion, look at me." He takes a moment, like he is gaining courage to do it, and when he finally meets your gaze again you can see how destroyed he is. "Do you love me?"

"I…”

“Please, don’t lie to me.”

“I do, deeply... more than anything." He finally answers.

You feel your heart racing, pain in your chest. All you want to do is to embrace him. Feel him in your arms. He loves you still. That's all you need to know. "Why are you pushing me away?"

"You deserve someone better. Someone that can give you a real life." 

"Please don't say that. You are everything to me, I would do anything for you!"

"I know! That is the reason! That is the problem!” He shouts in anguish. “That is why I'm doing this. I don't want you to pass the rest of your life pursuing something that doesn’t exist! Carrying a burden that is not yours to bear!”

“What are you talking about? What burden? I’m so happy with you, our life together is perfect! I couldn’t ask for more.”

“Is it? Perfect? How can you say that? I am a bloody vampire and we live in the darkness, hoping that one day I may find my cure! I lost count of the trips we took to look for some vague clues, founded in ancient tomes or whispered by dubious people, just to find nothing!”

“Yet.” You interrupt.

“Yes. Yet! But I fear that day may never come… and I can’t stand to look at your disappointed face every time we reach another dead end. It breaks my heart… it’s unbearable.” He sighs deeply. “I see the hope fading in your eyes every time, the hope of living in the light again, seeing the sun! All because of me. ” 

“Oh my sweetheart, is that really what you think?” His suffering was real. Here he is, again, thinking of him undeserving of your love, of your caring. If only you could give him your heart for him to guard it, for him to understand that none of that matters.

“I don’t think, I know. Who would want to live in the darkness forever? I wouldn’t! But I have to. You don’t. This is my burden! I don’t have an option. But you have. I can’t drag you to this life any longer. You deserve better.” 

He was an empty soul after this. This must have been consuming him for days, keeping his mind full of doubts, making him feel selfish and unfair. 

But he couldn’t be more wrong…

You get up from the ground and walk to him, resting your hand on his face, making him close his eyes at your touch. Your warm hand, in his cold skin.

You wait until he is ready to look at you again. You give him a soft smile, full of tenderness and understanding.

“I’m so sorry, my love, if I made you feel that way, but I think you misunderstood my feelings deeply. I know that you are a master of perception, but I think you failed that check, though. Miserably.” you giggled.

“Oh stop it… I’m serious.” Astarion said, rolling his eyes. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Now, seriously, If I ever seemed disappointed it was not for me. It was for you, because I know how deeply you want to see the sun again, to live in the daylight! I just want you to be happy! Fulfilled! And if I am the one who can help you achieve that, I will gladly do anything, for the rest of my life, to give you that gift… as long as you want to pursue this, I want it too.” You pause. Looking for his hands, you hold them, caressing them softly with your fingers, feeling his hands holding yours firmly. “And I don’t want better. I don’t need better. There is no better! I want you! I want you, Astarion.” You kiss his hands, gently, taking your time. “As for the rest… I don’t care if we live our lives in the darkness of the night. I like it that way to be honest. As long as I can be by your side it doesn’t matter, really.”

“You are too kind my dear…” 

“It’s not kindness, it’s the truth. Let me show you something. Come!” Still holding one of his hands you lead him outside, to the open field in front of your cottage, illuminated by the full moon light. As you reach outside you present him the sky, lifting your arms to it.

Astarion frowned his eyebrows looking at you suspiciously. “So, you wanted to show me the moon, my darling?”

“Yes. The stars, and the moon, yes.” 

“Just perfect, Love… thematic, if nothing else.” He grumps in a bad mood. You want to laugh, but you control yourself. He looks so adorable when he gets mad at you.

“I’m going to tell you something that I never told you before. Do you know that I love how your hair glows with the moonlight?” As you say this you intertwine your fingers in his soft hair, brushing his silver curls. “And your skin? You don’t seem to realize how beautiful you are under the night lights, you are like a star yourself.” You gently stroke his long, pointy ear with your fingers, admiring him in all his fragility and beauty. “So please don’t tell me this is a burden. I choose you. And if not seeing the sun again is the price to be paid, be it. I will live with you in the dark of the night, forever, because I don’t need any other light than yours… you are my light, Astarion.”

His forehead meets yours, and his eyes are wet with small tears. His hands on your small back, closing your body to his. You feel him breathing deeply, absorbing you. There is no safer place than in his arms. You have everything you need, right there. “You silly girl. Why didn’t you say none of that before?”

“Oh… I don’t know, I never thought you would like to hear it, really, knowing that you want to see the sun so badly again. I only wish you could see yourself like I see you, how perfect you are with your imperfections.”

“But you see, I’m starting to get there. To know myself through your eyes. Some days are harder than others, with all of the memories of my past pursuing me… Sometimes it is difficult for me to leave all of my bitterness and resentment behind. But some days, some days I know I am much more than that. And you helped me achieve that. I am forever grateful to you. For everything that you have given me, and still do.” He lifts your chin to reach your lips with his, giving you a softness and tender kiss. “I am sorry… forgive me.” He whispered, still touching your lips.

You cup his face with your hands, feeling nothing more than love for this man. You never loved anyone like you love him. And you never will.

“There is nothing to forgive. Just promise me that you will talk to me if you are ever haunted by those kinds of thoughts again.”

“I will do my best, my dear.” He embraces you again placing his face in the crook of your neck, as you rest yours in his chest. “I never wanted to lose you, you know? Just the thought of it makes me sick… Thank you for always being by my side. I love you so much!”

“And I love you too, more than anything!” You feel his embrace tightens around you.

“Will you stay with me? Will you be mine even if that means never seeing the sun again?”

“I will. And I am yours until the day that my heart stops beating.”

[heartsformars]

Hi! Can you please do the ramshackle trio, which are Skipp, Vinnie & Stone with a fem s/o who comes from the rich. Unlike the rich people, she doesn't seem the poor as inferior but human beings. She EXTREMELY SHY & doesn't know how to talk to people but she is kind & gentls as you get to know her. Plus she possesses an angelic beauty & a good singer. Sorry if this request is long.

Her outfit is this:

Heaven is missing an angel… ramshackle trio x fem! shy! Reader

A/N: Hi, I don't know if you wanted them separately or together but I wrote them separately because it is more comfortable for me to write them this way, but if you want me to write them again there is no problem

TW: stealing and gambling mentioned, bad jokes, vinnie being vinnie… again

───────────── ✿

SKIPP

-You share his musical taste and he loves that! -He'll probably play songs for you while you sing, although if you're a little embarrassed he won't force you to. - you and him would definitely be that kind of duo where one talks more than the other. On any given date skipp would probably be telling his fifth story of the day or telling you about the things he likes while you just listen while sipping tea or coffee (or whatever drink you like). -He doesn't care if you're shy, he'll always be sure to give you a push to encourage you to talk to more people. -Even if it doesn't always work out and ends up being a disaster he will always be there to cheer you up at the end of the day. -he LOVES your fashion style. -probably mentioned it to you several times but you never knew how to respond in a coherent way. -until one day you gave him an outfit that matched yours -and he LOVES it -you probably always see him in those clothes when you go on dates and he'll make sure they don't get torn or damaged too much. -will always be sure to keep the things you give him in good condition. -although vinnie has accidentally pawned a few of them -from that time on all the gifts you give him will be kept with a "Do not touch" note.

───────────── ✿

STONE

-probably won't think much of your shyness at first. -however, later on he may have doubts about it, he will not ask tho -he won't admit it but your voice relaxes him too much. After a crappy day he probably ends up falling asleep when you're asking him how his day was. -He denies affection too much, so when you give him things as gifts he'll act like he's not interested or even kind of annoyed that you spent money on him. (but you can see him smiling as he turns away.) -he's definitely a softie out of that whole "I'm not interested in other people" shell, so don't feel bad when he acts aloof, he just doesn't know how to express how much he appreciates you. -he never really cared about the way you dressed, it was nice and fancy like all the other rich people in ramshackle. -although if you give him a suit that matches yours he won't mind at all. -he probably won't wear it often, but he'll always keep it in a place where it won't get dirty or broken by rats. -he has flaws, of course, but you still love your sadboi no matter what.

───────────── ✿

VINNIE

"Ermm excuse me, she asked for no pickles" ahh relationship 💀💀💀 -But no kidding, I feel like vinnie wouldn't pick up much that you're shy, you're just more reserved. -so don't be surprised when you find her shouting out things that you consider embarrassing but (according to her) are normal. -although obviously if you tell her someday she'll try to stop doing it, although it still gets away from her sometimes -Another person who LOVES your voice, whether it's a date or they're just hanging out, will encourage you to sing something just to hear you. -probably always admitting to liking your voice while you're dying of embarrassment. -Vinnie doesn't take hints very well. -I mean, outside of the basic secret steal signals if you tell her something like "the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?" she'll probably be like "yeah uh-huh." -although she'll start to pick up on them eventually, don't worry, she learns fast. -just like stone I feel like at first he didn't pay much attention to the way you were dressed, but she thought it was cute -I feel she wouldn't like wearing dresses so much, it's not comfortable to steal with those things on. -but if you give her one, she will try to wear it on occasions to look more decent, especially on dates. -although she would keep it in a special place with the other things you gave her as a present. -at first skipp and stone were hesitant to see her wearing so many expensive things -suspecting if she'd gotten lucky ripping off gamblers or if she'd stolen something REALLY expensive -although eventually they will realize it’s just her fancy gf giving her gifts

-and they’re fine with it until it’s practically vinnie drowning them out by mentioning you even before they go to sleep

-“oh and y/n is very cute and-“ AND you have stone covering himself (what is supposed to be) a pillow and skipp just telling her very politely that he wants to sleep

-but at the end of the day she’s happy with you, no matter what

—bye this actually took me so long is embarrassing but I didn’t have much time to write so SORRY!! But I have more free time so ig I’m just gonna finish some hcs & oneshots that I just left there lol

[yxlnst]

Art of attraction

idol!minghao x reader!y/n

🎀 Summary 🎀 : You and Minghao explore an art museum for your first date. As you enjoy the art and talk, your connection grows. By the end, you both realize it's the beginning of something special.

🧸 Word count 🧸 : 1,050

Fluff

🧸 - - - - - - - - - - - - 🎀 - - - - - - - - - - - - 🧸

You were standing outside the city's renowned art museum, nervously tapping your foot. It wasn't just any date—it was with Minghao, the guy who'd caught your eye for months. He was charming, intelligent, and had a unique sense of style that set him apart from everyone else. When he suggested visiting the museum, you were excited, but now that you were actually here, the nerves had set in.

"Hey!" Minghao's voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see him walking toward you, a bright smile on his face. He wore a casual blazer over a simple shirt, looking effortlessly cool. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was crazy."

"No problem," you replied, trying to sound casual. "I just got here myself."

Minghao led the way into the museum, and you followed, trying to keep your excitement in check. The museum was filled with people, but it was surprisingly quiet. The echoing halls and marble floors gave the place an air of sophistication, and the soft lighting added to the ambiance.

"So, where should we start?" you asked, looking around at the different exhibits.

"Let's check out the contemporary art section," Minghao suggested. "I heard they have a new installation that's pretty cool."

As you walked through the museum, you couldn't help but notice how comfortable Minghao seemed. He pointed out different pieces of art, sharing his thoughts and asking for your opinion. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself getting lost in the exhibits.

"This one is interesting," Minghao said, stopping in front of a large abstract painting. It was a swirl of colors and shapes, almost hypnotic in its complexity. "What do you think it means?"

You tilted your head, studying the painting. "It looks like chaos at first, but if you look closely, there's a pattern. Like life sometimes it feels chaotic, but there's order if you know where to look."

Minghao smiled. "I like that interpretation," he said. "It's a bit like us, isn't it? We might seem different, but there's a connection."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You'd always admired Minghao's way of seeing the world, and now that you were getting to know him better, you realized how much you had in common.

As you moved through the museum, you found yourself enjoying the conversation and the art. Minghao had a way of making even the most abstract pieces feel accessible, and he was genuinely interested in hearing your thoughts. It wasn't just a date—it was an experience, one that you didn't want to end.

After exploring the contemporary art section, you headed to the museum's café for a break. Minghao ordered a couple of drinks, and you found a quiet corner to sit and talk.

"Thanks for coming with me today," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I wasn't sure if you'd be interested in a museum date, but I'm glad you came."

"I'm having a great time," you replied, smiling at him. "It's nice to do something different for a change."

Minghao leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, I've always liked art because it's a way to express yourself without words. It's like, you can show people how you feel through colors and shapes, and everyone sees it differently."

"That's what makes it special," you agreed. "Everyone brings their own perspective."

As you talked, you realized how easy it was to be with Minghao. He was thoughtful, kind, and had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room. You shared stories, laughed at each other's jokes, and discovered new things about each other.

After finishing your drinks, Minghao suggested visiting the museum's sculpture garden. It was a beautiful space, filled with statues and lush greenery. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the garden, and you could hear the distant sound of birds chirping.

"Wow, this place is amazing," you said, admiring the sculptures. Each one seemed to tell a story, frozen in time.

Minghao walked beside you, his hands in his pockets. "It's one of my favorite places in the city," he said. "It's so peaceful, and the art is incredible."

As you wandered through the garden, you found a secluded bench and sat down. The atmosphere was serene, and the fading light gave everything a golden hue. Minghao sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

"I'm glad we did this," you said, feeling a sense of contentment. "It's been a while since I've had this much fun."

"Me too," Minghao replied, turning to look at you. "I was nervous, honestly. I wasn't sure if you'd enjoy it."

You laughed softly. "I was nervous too. But it's been great."

Minghao's eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world faded away. The sound of the city, the distant voices—it all disappeared. There was just the two of you, sitting on a bench in a sculpture garden, enjoying the moment.

"Can I ask you something?" Minghao said, his voice gentle.

"Of course," you replied, curious.

"Would you like to go out again sometime? Maybe for dinner or something?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest. "I'd like that," you said. "I'd like that a lot."

Minghao's smile widened, and he nodded. "Great. It's a date, then."

As you sat together, watching the sun set over the garden, you knew this was just the beginning. It was the start of something special, something that had been building for a while. And as the stars began to appear in the sky, you felt a sense of excitement for what was to come.

[fryday]

RE: Phil being quiet and Dan making the innuendos and winks, I actually think the opposite.

Phil said in his coming out video that he had been out and comfortable with himself for years and would have preferred to do a short video just talking from inside an actual closet lol

My interpretation is that he would have been ready and comfortable to be out as a couple this whole time but since Dan wasn't (isn't?), he deferred to Dan's comfort level. He let's Dan make the jokes because he gets to set the boundary.

I think the comment about doors was like, an agreed upon message. Almost like a press release statement lol I think they talked about it and decided that was the messaging. Especially since they referred to it in the mukbang 2 video.

Anyway that's just my interpretation. Hope that makes sense. I love scrolling through your theories! I'm the same age as Dan and I've been a phan since 2010 so it's nice to see the phantom come back more mature and kind that it was before.

(x) sorry for taking so long to respond to this! i think that is a really good interpretation of it, yes! one which i hadn't thought about at all

a counter-proposal re: how phil would've been happy with them being out as a couple long before, would be that phil is generally quite a private person and the stuff he shares with us on amazingphil, when he's acting purely on his own instinct and isn't interacting with/playing off of dan, is anecdotal but not necessarily revealing about himself as a person or his life. and i feel like he's quite professional in that way, that he shares what's pertinent to him doing his job well ie comedic stories, but doesn't go beyond that.

we also know that for the longest time he didn't actually feel the need to talk about his sexuality online at all because, as you said, he had already been out to some people in his life for a while by then and (a) thought that he was happy the way things were and (b) didn't really think it was a big thing that needed to be addressed on his public platform. but we know from COTY that part of why he was making it was so it could help people who might need it, and we know from his opinions in hindsight that actually coming out online DID make a difference in how free he felt after all. but perhaps, his relationship with dan was not something that could HELP people in any obvious way, and at that point it might have seemed irrelevant to him anyway from a freedom of expression standpoint because dan was hardly online/was hardly going to be online with him anyway. so he might not have felt the need even then to be transparent about them as a couple.

tl;dr - to me, phil comes across as a generally private person even if we're not talking about his relationship with dan, so he MIGHT not have found it relevant for them to be out as a couple before anyway.

but that's all speculation to do with the past! as things are now, if they actually have agreed to hard launch and are leading up to it, i totally see your POV and am inclined to agree with it! it seems to fit with what we know of them as people and as a pair, that phil would allow dan to set and push the limit as he's comfortable with it, because phil is the one who would be more chill/indifferent about it/what they share about it either way.

that was all just me thinking out loud though!! i don't have the answers, obviously, and i haven't kept up with dnp as closely in recent years as a lot of others around here have, so i'm def open to hearing other opinions :)

(also thank you! i love talking to people about their theories too. it's always v insightful and interesting! and i agree that the golden era of dnp and the phandom is now; overall i feel like there's a lot more to learn and gain from the experience of being here now vs before!)

[child-of-the-nights]

Could u please do some domestic Aro Volturi headcanons?🥰 thx

Absolutely! ^^

A/N: The mate is human in this one but let me know if you'd like a vampire mate version.

TW: None

Domestic Aro Volturi Headcanons

~Reader is gender neutral~

Since vampires don't require food, cooking isn't something Aro does. Now, I do believe that The Volturi has some human staff outside the secretaries. In fact, I think that there are some cooks in the palazzo and they serve food for the secretaries (kind of in a 'free lunch' way).

But if Aro's mate insisted on wanting to cook, who was he to deny it? If he had the time, he would even linger around to see what they are making. Aro has seen thousands of minds and has useful information tucked away in his own. That includes some tips and tricks on cooking.

I fully believe he would help them out with something if they asked him to. He would ask for a favor in return of course, but that's a story for another day.

His mate struck gold with this ancient vampire when it comes to domestic stuff. Why? Because Aro is curious about MANY things.

So when it comes to his mate doing something to keep themselves busy while Aro is working, he would be delighted to hear them ramble about it. Crocheting? Oh yes, he had seen some people do that. Redecorating their room? Aro would love to help them with ideas if they cannot decide on something. Whatever it is, he is ready to share his opinion.

Whenever he is free, he likes to take his mate to his private library. Now, I'm not saying Aro is a hoarder, but he kind of is. As a result, his mate should expect to find a wide variety of books on various domestic themes. After all, who wouldn't want to learn about the ancient art of tea-making?

He also loves fashion and had tried out most trends. What I'm saying is that Aro would love to share his clothes with his mate if given the chance. Heck, he would even dress them up himself if they let him.

What Aro would most appreciate is if his mate could provide him with new information. He just wants to know everything, regardless of what it is about. I mean, with his mind reading ability, it's not that difficult for him to find it out, but he just loves hearing them say it.

When it comes to sleeping, he usually stays by their side until they are asleep. If he doesn't have too much work, that is. If he has time, he would read to them or cuddle with them. He finds dreams to be incredibly fascinating and would enjoy watching them like "movies".

Aro would never expect his mate to clean their room because they have staff for that as well, but if they insisted, he would gladly let them. His eyesight is far superior to that of a human, so they can expect some snarky remarks about how they missed a spot. But it's only a joke. Aro actually enjoys listening to his partner singing their favorite song while tidying the room up. He would never make them feel bad about themselves.

Gardening, on the other hand, is bittersweet for Aro. His sister used to garden a lot, and it reminds him of those times. Nevertheless, he offers advice to his partner when they ask for it. While they are working, Aro might even share some interesting tales about his sister. He gently reminds them to respect his sister's work, or more precisely, what's left of it. For everyone's sake.

Overall, I think he's a great mate to have when it comes to domestic things.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

share ur kazutora hcs pls

Alright here they are!

Has a tiger keyring on his keys which was a birthday present from Baji

Whenever chifutu talks about how badly he wants a girlfriend Kazutora teases him mercilessly about it (despite secretly wanting the same thing).

Despite wanting a love interest it also scares him a bit since he's worried it'll turn out like his parents and he'll be like his dad.

Is a big fan of picnics, loves sitting outside in the sunshine with his friends, sharing a meal and joking around.

Love love loves weddings! He just gets so excited about them, seeing his friends, having a party and just the all around good vibes (but oh boy is his nervous at his own wedding).

Likes his hair being played with but is too nervous to ask anyone to do it (luckily baji noticed this a while ago and occasionally when they're just hanging out and lying around Baji will play with it)

Similarly he's unsure about playing with other peoples hair, he wants to try but is nervous he'll be too rough.

Got a little jealous when he first met Peh and realised he was wearing matching clothes with Pah (that's his thing!) but quickly gets over it when all three of them start to match together.

Is incredibly proud of his bike, start a conversation with him about it and he'll happily talk and tell stories about it for hours.

Give him any kind of compliment and he'll be smiling for days.

Despises any kind of violence against women, it actually reminds him of the situation with his mother. So because of this he always steps in to beat the guys up stop the situation. (In the good timeline this actually causes problems between him and Senju since he frequently steps into her fights). 

Secretly talks to the animals at the pet shop, telling them about his day.

Actually really likes flowers esp how they smell, sometimes he buys bouquets just for himself.

Has frequent nightmares both about his childhood and the mistakes he's made.

Adding on to that he gets really nervous about actually sleeping next to his partner for the first time because he doesn't want them to know about the nightmares.

Actually really enjoys watching Mitsuya sew, will sit and watch for hours.

While in valhalla tries to get hanma to dress like him the same way he used to do with pah.

Tenses up whenever he accidentally breaks something

Actually looked up to hanma a lot, considered him a friend as well as someone he wanted to impress (poor guy was likely lonely after juvie and suddenly this friendly acting guy comes along promising to help him with everything and giving him attention that he would've missed from his old friends).

Finds fire very pretty, likes candles

Actually pretty well behaved in school and is known to be a good student by teachers (or at least was)

Is a big fan of casual touch whether its putting an arm around his friends or holding his partners hand he just loves to touch.

Cried of laughter the first time he saw Baji's school disguise in the good timeline.

Loves sharing blankets with his partner, owns a bunch of blankets just for this reason so expect to be bundled up with him on the sofa a bunch.

Exchanged letters with Draken the second time he was locked up.

Actually admires the Haitani brother's. He first heard of them after hearing they were partly the reason the 9th gen Black dragons disbanded, making Kazutora instantly thankful for these brother's despite never meeting them.

Although Baji has the reputation of being the groups impulsive one, Kazutora actually picks more fights (this one might actually be canon)

Because he was so nervous about his first kiss he accidentally missed his partners lips altogether and kissed the side of their mouth instead (this actually becomes a cute place that he kisses on purpose for a bunch of kisses after)

Bonds with Hakkai because of similar family issues.

Used to get nervous around animals, both because of lack of experience and because he was worried they would hate him

If he thinks he's alone in the apartment then he'll sing in the shower (Chifuyu has pretended to go out many times before just to listen)

Sometimes touches his earring when nervous 

His birthday went from being a day he didn't like much to his favourite day of the year (having friends really helps with this)

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hi big sis, u asked for my other bfs sooooo, how do u think sunshine!reader and grumpy!bucky met? like how did them (complete opposites) start dating?

hi lil pickle!! okay this is all a big rambling mess and its probably far from cohesive, but couldn’t stop myself 😭😭

BUCKY AND READER MEETING.

im gonna saaay something cute and kinda romcom-like bc he deserves it

maybe he's at the shop and he's trying to find something?? maybe sam gave him a list of things to grab last minute for dinner (maybe a bbq with sam's family and family?) 

so he's just standing there like a cute little lemon, list in hand as he looks at the food on the shelves. maybe you're a few feet beside him looking for the same thing? and maybe the shop is out of stock of the food item, but neither one of you know

he has no idea you're there, so he mutters the item name to himself

but you hear, so you repeat it in a questiony type of way, and you say how you're looking for it too and have been looking everywhere. you have a short causal conversation about the item and he says how he needs it for a friend's bbq. and then part ways until you meet each other on another aisle

maybe you smile at him and he's kinda confused bc he's like "what do you want?" "have I got something on my face?" kinda thing

then you go past each other again and then you both go about getting what you needed to get. and then hidden somewhere you find the item (only one) you both needed. so guess what? you try to track him down but then you see him about to leave the checkout. so you stash your basket somewhere so you can buy the item quicker, and then kinda chase after him

he's reaching his car/ bike and you're like "wait, wait," trying to stop him. and then you hand him the item and you're saying "I found one, it was hidden" something like that yada yada

and he's questioning what you meant by one. then you say how you found one, and got it for him and that you want him to have it (maybe you think he needs it more)

and bc you were so selfless and gave him the thing you needed AND paid for it AND chased after him to give it, he says how he can't take it. you say how it's no problem and make a joke that it's your good deed for the day. he makes a joke and says the same by trying to give it back to you

and it's all just cute and sweet, and you're so kind etc etc that he's kinda confused by it all

there's a silent moment but it's comfortable, and you're kinda lingering hoping he'd ask you for your number. but he takes a while, and your basket is inside, so you back away and say how it was nice to meet him and that you hope he has a good day or something about the bbq

and a few seconds after your back is to him (you're walking away) he's like "wait" bc he finally bucked up the courage

and then you spin around. and he asks if you want to come too. and is a little awkward, saying how you don't have to or sorry for asking you (bc you're a stranger) 

you say how you'd love to, he's kinda proud bc he asked you out and he's still got it

and then you have this really cute story to share when you meet his friends. and it's all so sweet bc it seems like you've always known each other and sam def picks up on something between you. bucky's really interested in you, bc you're his sunshine cheery counterpart

and you both really want to see each other again

DYING OKAY NOW IM DONE