#Live Laugh Love (and I am vibrating at the speed of light about him)

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt 5

Am I crazy? Seriously, am I the kind of person who stalks their ex-boyfriend on Twitter, spots a mutual friend in the background of a drunk selfie, then calls that friend to get the address so I can show up and kill my ex?

I press the elevator button, heading up to the penthouse. As the elevator speeds past the lower floors, my heart pounds in my chest. Mumbles leave my mouth as I hold back my nausea, feeling like I’m going to barf in this plant. What luxury apartment complex has a plant in the elevator?

Why didn’t I come up with a plan sooner? The adrenaline that fueled my initial anger is already beginning to dwindle. I let out a soft sigh, closing my eyes for a moment to concentrate. I can’t let him do this to me anymore. I'm exhausted by the mind games, the constant psychological warfare.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal a lavish hallway. I take a deep breath, feeling a flutter of nerves. I haven't been to Todoroki’s apartment before, which makes this whole situation even more nerve-racking. The empty hallway is intimidating, each step I take echoing softly. Despite the knots in my stomach, I know I can't turn back now. This is my only chance to reclaim my sense of self, to finally break free from the cycle of manipulation and pain.

I open the front door and slip off my outside shoes, replacing them with an appropriate indoor pair from my bag. The living room is full with a combination of heroes and groupies, their faces illuminated by the shifting colors of several strobe lights. The air is thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of spilled beer.

The music vibrates the floor below me, suddenly feeling bad for his downstairs neighbors. A steady beat reverberates through my chest as I watch the crowd for a moment, trying to spot a familiar face. Bodies grind in sync on the dance floor, a group is gathered near the kitchen, their conversations unheard thanks to the music. On the far side of the room, an old classmate is standing next to the makeshift bar, mixing drinks with practiced ease.

“Can you make me a drink Sero?” my voice surprises him clearly as he jumps and knocks a few plastic cups over, causing them to spill out over the floor. The much taller man turns around with a drunken smile spreading across his face, liquor lingers on his breath as he picks me up and spins me around in a circle.

“I didn’t know they let you outside anymore” Sero laughed as he placed me back down onto the floor. His tape quickly extending out towards several bottles, helping him create some drink concoction. An aquamarine beverage is extended out to me as I hear a high pitched squeal in my ear.

Mina latched onto me before I can process what’s happening. Her combined “oh my gods” and complaints about my outfit are tossed in between each other like an overstuffed compliment sandwich.

“I’m excited to see you too Mimi.” I offer her a small hug back as I question Sero.

“What is this?”

“Plus Ultra Punch.”

“Of course it is.” my eyes roll as I down my drink. Mina squeezing my shoulders excitedly while Sero quickly made another.

“Be careful, these are strong.” He warns before turning around to help another nonpaying client.

I sip my drink, the alcohol burning a fiery path down my throat. The potent mix of liquor and fruitiness lingers on my tongue. As I savor the sensation, I glance over at Mina, who’s excitedly tapping away on her phone, her face illuminated by the screen's glow.

"Do you know where Bakugou is?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looks up, concern flashing in her eyes. "Do you think that’s a good idea?" she counters, her hand gripping my jacket. Her gaze darts nervously around the room, scanning the crowd.

"Who is he with?" My voice wavers slightly, a defeated breath escaping my lungs. I brace myself for the answer. Mina sighs, rolling her eyes at my stupidity before pointing towards the balcony.

"She's just some groupie. They just met tonight. I—" Her voice fades into music as I weave my way through the dance floor. Liquid courage propels me forward until I reach the balcony door, my hand poised to turn the knob.

Before I can open it, a strong hand catches mine. I turn to see Kirishima, his expression serious as he gently but firmly pulls me closer to his chest. His eyes, usually so warm, are full of concern.

"You don't want to do this," he says, his voice low and pleading.

"Do what, Eijiro?" I snap, frustration bubbling to the surface.

"You don't want to see him tonight," he insists, his grip tightening slightly.

"What are you talking about? You're the one who begged me to see him in the first place. So, surprise." I wave my hands in a mock cheer, but his expression remains stern. Confusion must be written all over my face.

"He's drunk.” Kirishima explains, his voice edged with frustration.

Correction: he's being a horndog.

"I already know that," I respond, trying to keep my cool.

"No. He's first-semester drunk.”

Correction: He’s being a horndog.

Correction: He's being a mean lil fucker.

The weight of his words sinks in, a sharp reminder of a side of Bakugou I've rarely seen. Usually, alcohol makes him overly affectionate, but when he's in a bad place, everyone allows him to act like an absolute jerk.

"Don't make me beg, Eijiro. I need to do this. I can't go home now," I plead, my voice cracking with desperation. My eyes lock onto his.

Eijiro hesitates, scanning the room again before reluctantly releasing me. "Do you want me to go with you?" he offers, his voice softening with concern.

"Katsuki would never hurt me. My feelings? All the time. But I'm not in any danger with him." my pitch matches his as I offer a small smile.

I step back, turning towards the door. Kirishima's eyes follow me as I open it and step onto the balcony. The humid night air wraps around me, heavy and thick.

I can hear her giggle again, a sound that slices through me like a knife. I step over to the right-hand side, drawn by the flirtatious sounds. As I move closer, the scene comes into focus: the two of them sitting by the pool, her legs draped over his as she leans back, laughing.

The sight of them together feels like a betrayal, a sharp twist of the knife already lodged in my heart. Each giggle, each touch, is a reminder of how easily he disregards my feelings, of how little I seem to matter to him. The pain is overwhelming, a tidal wave of hurt and anger.

"Katsuki Bakugou!" I bark, my voice slicing through the air. His head snaps in my direction, eyes wide and frantic like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, he stiffens, standing unsteadily by the pool's edge as if he’s wondering if his drunken mind is playing tricks on him.

In his panic to stand, he accidentally shoves the poor woman beside him into the pool. Her screams are piercing for a brief moment before being abruptly silenced as she plunges underwater. Katsuki pays her no mind, his focus solely on me as he stomps over with a fury that radiates off him in waves. Her distressed whines are lost in the chaos of the moment, falling on deaf ears as he seizes my arm with a grip that is both desperate and furious.

His eyes, a mix of shock and confusion, rake over me as if he's searching for some sign of authenticity, as if I’m someone else using a transformation quirk. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, his fingers digging into my skin as if I’m going to disappear again.

"Katsuki, let go," I manage to whisper, my voice trembling. His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability behind his anger.

The night air feels thicker, almost suffocating, as we stand there, locked in a silent struggle. The woman's splashes and gasps barely register in our shared turmoil. Katsuki's grip tightens, his eyes searching mine for answers that I'm not sure I can give. The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, a look that leaves me feeling exposed and raw.

Before I can say anything, his lips crash onto mine, rough and urgent, his hands gliding over my exposed skin as slides his palms to both sides of my face. The intensity of his kiss takes my breath away, and I instinctively reach for his wrists, trying to pull away.

“Bakugou, I—” He cuts me off again, his lips capturing mine more forcefully. His tongue flicks across my lower lip, demanding entry. I deny his request, trying to pull away once more.

“You’re such a brat. Do you know that?” His voice is low, a dangerous rumble.

“Do you know how absolutely insane you make me? You have completely ruined me, woman.” His hands run down my spine and reach for the small of my back, pulling our bodies impossibly close. His soft lips leave a trail of peppery kisses all over my neck and face, each one sending shivers down my spine.

“I mean, fuck.” He pulls away, his eyes dark and intense. “I can’t think straight. When I’m on a mission, I’m wondering if you’re watching me on TV. When I’m on patrol, I stick to routes with the fastest response time to your office.” His hands drop from my face, the initial shock wearing off, allowing his real emotions to surface. His voice rises with every word, each syllable dripping with raw emotion. His hands pull away from my body.

“You left me. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You left me some shitty note on the bed and thought I wouldn’t notice your disappearance? Well, I did!”

My hands reach out to him, but he pushes them away, almost scoffing at the gesture. He steps back, creating a wider gap between us.

“I’m the one who left? You’re the one that’s been cheating on me! You don’t get to make me feel sorry for your dumb ass and then fuck someone else, dickhead!” My voice trembles with a mixture of hurt and anger.

His eyes widen, nostrils flaring as he stretches his arms wide, his voice booming for anyone to hear.

“Are you serious?” he paces back and forth, his agitation clear. “I would never disrespect you like that. I can’t even believe you would think that.”

I scoff, crossing my arms defensively. “Coming home late, pulling away from me, not showing up for our planned date nights and dinners, having to stay at the office until ungodly hours, or maybe worst of all, going MIA for days at a time and leaving me to worry you’re dead.”

The words hang between us, heavy and accusatory, each one a dagger in the already bleeding wounds of our relationship.

Bakugou pulls out his phone, his fingers angrily slamming onto the touchscreen with each tap. He brings it up to his ear, his voice a low, furious whisper as he speaks to someone on the other end. The conversation is brief and tense, ending abruptly as he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

Without a moment's hesitation, he stomps up to me, his eyes blazing with determination. He reaches for my hand, yanking me toward him with a force that takes my breath away. His grip is firm as he moves backward toward the door, dragging me along despite my attempts to plant my feet and resist.

"Katsuki, stop!" I plead, my voice wavering, but he pays no attention to my words. His expression is set in stone, his jaw clenched tightly.

Ignoring my protests, he leans down. With surprising ease, lifts me off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder. The world tilts as I find myself staring at the ground, my hands pounding against his back in a futile attempt to make him release me.

“Put me down, Katsuki!” I shout, my voice echoing through the night air. But the drunken man before me is beyond reason, his focus solely on getting us out of there.

As we move through the party, the atmosphere shifts. Conversations falter and heads turn to watch the spectacle unfolding before them. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, a mix of confusion and curiosity. People part instinctively, creating a pathway as Bakugou strides purposefully toward the exit, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"What the hell, Bakugou?" someone calls out, but he doesn't respond. His steps remain steady, his hand resting on the top of my ass. I catch glimpses of familiar faces, their expressions a blend of shock and concern, but no one dares to intervene.

The pulsating music and flashing lights of the party become a distant background noise as we finally make it outside. Bakugou's pace quickens as he heads toward the parking lot, and there, waiting under a streetlamp, is Izuku's car.

Bakugou finally sets me down, his grip momentarily loosening as he fumbles for his phone again. I take a deep breath, my heart still racing from the chaotic journey through the party. The car's headlights flicker to life, illuminating the scene as Izuku steps out, his face a mask of concern and confusion.

"What's going on?" Izuku asks, his eyes darting between the two of us.

Before I can answer, Bakugou cuts in, his voice still laced with anger and urgency. "Just get us out of here, Deku. Now."

[lilozzzyo3569]

Jack Mercer x Female Reader

You had just heard the weather report that there was a bad storm coming in tonight and you immediately packed your bag and ran over to the Mercer house. You made it just in time, only getting few drops of rain before barging into the house. "HEY! The door was unlocked again, you guys really gotta do something about that" you said dropping your bag on the couch and walking past Bobby who simply rolled his eyes. "Well nobody expects someone to just barge into their house uninvited" you give him the finger making laugh as you search the fridge for the left overs you had cooked the other night. "Bobby I am always invited, I practically live here, I cook, I clean, I-" you are then suddenly startled by Jack popping behind you saying "oh you do a lot more than that gorgeous." You giggle as Jack wraps you in his arms and starts to snuggle into your neck as he starts to rub his large hands up and down your sides. Bobby makes an over exaggerated gagging sound before complaining "see this is exactly why I'm getting the fuck outta here," he then turns on a heal and starts to walk toward the door. You wiggle out of Jacks handsy grasp to shout "Wait Bobby, there's supposed to be a really bad storm tonight maybe you should stay in" you were genuinely worried not wanting him to get stuck. He then smiled reluctantly "relax, I am just going to handle some business I will be back before the morning, don't wait up.... and don't be nasty in the kitchen" he says before slamming the door on his way out, leaving you and Jack giggling in the kitchen.

After eating the left overs you had made the other night, you and Jack go upstairs to his room. You shower, light a bunch of candles, and change into one of his old band t-shirts before crawling into bed with him. The storm is raging and you're certain the power will go out at any moment but you simply couldn't care less. Jack has you sprawled over him as he rubs your back and hums to you. "Are you going to sleep in your jeans Mercer?" you joke as you look up at him making him chuckle. "No, obviously but I have a very beautiful lady currently holding me hostage and not letting me move." You roll your eyes and gently smack his chest. "Hey I'm not complaining, I would however prefer you like this" he says before flipping your positions so he is now hovering above you and looking down with a devilish smirk, "see? now this is much better" you giggle before rolling your eyes and pulling him down to kiss him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he wraps his arms around your waist deepening the kiss and fighting you for dominance. He starts trailing kisses from your lips to your neck leaving little love bites in his wake. He moves his hands from your waist to your hips, rearranging you to lift your leg over his hip to grind himself down against you. He groans deep in your ear making you arch your back at not only the sound but the vibration speeding south and making your head swim. Your eyes are already rolling to the back of your skull and he has barely even done anything yet. But the feeling of his large hands hungrily exploring your body, his deep voice rasping in your ear, his soft lips kissing and nipping at your neck, all if it combined had you feeling so overwhelmed you didn't even realize how loud you had started moaning. He chuckles deeply in your ear "Oh baby, if you making noises like that, it's going to be a very long night for both of us"

Okay so this was just a quick one shot because I am also madly in love with Jack Mercer and I need more content of him. Also this was supposed to be about cuddling with him buuuuut one thing led to another and here we are. Oh well hahahaha!

[germvity]

leon kennedy x reader // drunk puppy

chris drags leon through to your apartment after a night of drinking, and being the mess he is, leon wants your attention.

reader gender: female

genre: fluff with smut

tags: heavy drinking, reader helping leon get sober, clingy behaviour, chris is done with leons shit 😭

warnings: drinking/alcohol, the nickname puppy used for leon, smut, leon being horni and going to horni jail, swearing, thigh riding (giving), femdom, leon giving me hard switch energy 😭✋, calling someone mommy/mommy kink

---

three loud bangs interrupt your alone time and you jump, almost dropping your phone on the hardwood floor. "y/n!" a loud, familiar voice calls, and it sounds pissed. you swing the door open to see chris holding leon by the scruff of his jacket, and your boyfriend's cheeks are flushed red as he beams at you. "take him. i'm done with his constant whining about wanting to see you." chris deadpans, shoving your pretty blonde boy into your arms. "y/n..!" leon slurs, nuzzling up into your neck. "oh, chris!" you call before he walks off. "what?" the man stops suddenly and looks at you over his shoulder. "thanks for taking care of him." you smile at your friend, and he sighs grumpily. "sure, just get him sober and take care of him." chris replies, a soft smile on his face.

the apartment door closes behind you as you guide leon to the couch, but the blonde isn't making it easy. "y/n, i missed you sooooo much." he mumbles into your skin, arms tight around your waist as he takes in your scent. "you've only been gone for a few hours, lovely." you remind him, and he pouts at you as you push him on the couch. "don't call me thaaat!" leon cries, and you roll your eyes. "oh? what do you want me to call you then?" you fold your arms as you watch his curious face. it's as if you could see his brain ticking as he thinks. "the other one." he finally replies, big blue eyes looking back up at you. "baby?" you try, and he sticks his bottom lip out at you. "noooo.. the other other one!" your boyfriend whines, his drunken state slumping back on the couch. "how about... darling?"

"no... the nice one." leon huffs, his boot scraping at the hardwood like an upset child being made to sit in timeout. you hum in thought, sauntering to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. "where are you going?" he calls after you, about to get up until you respond. "getting you a drink to sober you up, puppy." you call back. "that's it!" your boyfriend yells and you almost drop the glass. "baby, what's-?" you get cut off by your boyfriend's voice. "that's the one! you said it!" he beams up at you. "puppy?" you test, and leon nods happily. "you like being called puppy?" you tease, pressing the glass into his hands. "yeah." the blonde sips the drink and cringes at the bland taste. "ahh.." he whimpers quietly, holding the glass away like a fussy child. "you need to keep drinking it to feel better, puppy." you say softly, sitting beside him on the couch. leon lets out a big huff, but drinks the water anyway. you smile when he finishes it, placing the empty glass on the floor and kicking his boots off.

"hmmm, y/n?" leon mumbles, and you hum as you look over at him. "can we cuddle, pleeeease??" he draws out, giving you his best puppy eyes. "c'mere then." you smile, offering him your arm so he could lay on your chest. leon clambers over you and flops down on top of you, gripping your shirt with his fingers. "mmmm.. thank you." he whispers, and you wrap your arms tightly around him. "no problem, puppy." you smile, kissing his head softly. "fuck... i love it when you call me that." leon admits again, voice barely above a whisper as he nuzzles into your chest. you comb your fingers through his soft hair, scratching at his scalp affectionately as you chuckle softly. "yeah? you like being my puppy?" you smile at his reaction, the way he seizes up and shudders at your words. "yeah." leon replies, hiding his blush in your chest. "speak up, puppy." you tease, moving your hand from his scalp to his face so he could look at you. "hnn." his eyes flicker away but the light tap of your finger on his cheek brings him back to you. "c'mon, tell me what you like." you continue. "i... like when you call me that." leon's cheeks are so red you can't help but giggle. "call you what? i call you many things." your thumb rubs his bottom lip gently. "i.. i like being your... i.." he stammers, eyes looking anywhere but you. "haha. alright, puppy. relax, i'm only teasing." you smile, giving him a gentle kiss.

"fuck, y/n you don't know what that does to me..." leon whimpers, hazy, drunk eyes fluttering closed. "my puppy.." you smile, gently rubbing his cheek as his eyebrows furrow. "stop..." the blonde's voice cracks slightly and you grin. "what's wrong, puppy?" you whisper to him. "y/n..." his breath is shuddery as he tightens his grip on your shirt. "puuuppyyy." you drawl out, your other hand cups his other cheek as you now hold his face with both hands. leon whimpers, hips catching on your thigh as he lets out a soft sigh. "damn, i knew this would get a rise out of you but wow. you really do like this, don't you? puppy?" you tease, and his blue eyes find yours. "fuck..." he whimpers, moving to nuzzle into your neck. "aww, puppy. you getting all worked up?" you continue, running your hand down his spine affectionately. "y/n..." he whispers, giving your thigh another hump, yet this time more shyly. "go on, puppy. you can do it." you straighten your leg for him, letting him find a steady pace against your leg. leon lets out a soft moan that vibrates against your neck, and you give his jaw a soft kiss to encourage him to keep going.

leon gasps against your neck, whimpering into your skin as his clothed dick grinds against your thigh. "aww, puppy. is that good?" you kiss his pulse softly, and leon's breath audibly hitches in his throat. "oh, my pretty puppy looks so puppy like this." you whisper into his ear, enjoying how he reacted. "c-can i please cum??" leon moans, pulling on your shirt so he could nuzzle closer. "so soon?" you tease, pretending to think. "please mommy, i've been good." he begs, hips speeding up a little. "fine, but only because you've asked so politely." you laugh, giving his ear a soft kiss as he keens with a mantra of thank you's. "come on, puppy, cum on mommy's leg." you grin, loving leon's moans and whimpers as his hips stutter then stop with a loud whine.

gently rubbing his back, you spoil leon with praise, and he absorbed all your words happily. "c'mon puppy, let's get you clean and get you to bed." you smile, sitting up with the blonde in your lap. "but-" he tries to start, but you cut him off with a playful "ah ah ah." which affectively hushes him. "come on, shower time." you smile, helping your boyfriend stand. before he went into police training you could of carried his scrawny ass to the shower, but now he's been working out and eating more healthy you couldn't scoop him up as easily which this leon, the needy sub kind, hated.

leon pouts, trying to get you to hold him but your much weaker arms couldn't manage. "puppy, c'mon. use your legs for mommy." you roll your eyes as he huffs stubbornly, nuzzling into your neck. "don't wanna." he pouts into your skin. "leon." you warn, and he whines softly at the tone. "i don't wanna..!" he cries and you roll your eyes. "fine, but if i drop you it's your own fault." you give in, knowing he's too stubborn to do anything in this still drunk and needy mindset.

your boyfriend gives a drunken giggle, wrapping his arms around your neck as you pull his legs around your waist. "you're not my little baby anymore, you're actually quite heavy." you remind him, but leon ignores you, happily kissing your neck up as you slowly carry him to the bathroom. "fuck puppy, c'mon let go." you wheeze as you manage to haul his ass onto the counter. leon pouts as he lets go of your neck, watching you leave to get some towels and clean clothes before turning the shower on for him. "c'mon, leon. this should sober you up." you smile, gesturing for him to come to you.

leon jumps off the counter and stumbles into you arms. "hi." your boyfriend giggles, kissing you softly. "do i have to undress you too?" you ask, joking, but he nods. "damn it.. you're lucky i love you, puppy." you sigh, tugging his jacket off and grabbing the hem of his shirt as he raises his arms for you to strip him off his shirt. "thank youuu..~" leon purrs, giving you a soft kiss as you help him out his pants and cum stained boxers. you go to leave to give your lover privacy, but he snatches your wrist with his damn puppy eyes. "stay? i don't wanna be alone." leon's bottom lip sticks out at you and you sigh. "fine, i'll stay with you but i'm not getting in." you reply, stepping back into the bathroom.

you sit on the counter as you wait for leon to sober up. eventually, leon sighs, turns the shower off and gets out. you toss him the towel you got for him and he mumbles a small thank you. "you feel better?" you ask as he dries himself off. "yeah. thanks for putting up with me." leon avoids your eyes, cheeks flushing red and this time not from alcohol. you laugh at his embarrassed look, getting down from the counter to give him a soft kiss. "i love you." you smile, helping him pull his shirt on. "i love you too." leon smiles, kissing you again. you give him one last kiss before heading through to the bedroom to get ready for bed.

settling was easy, and you wait for your boyfriend to get into bed with you. eventually, his side of the bed dips and he cuddles up to you. "i love you." leon mumbles into your ear, kissing behind your ear affectionately. "i love you too, puppy." you grin, rolling over to coddle him and flutter soft kisses onto his face. "stop..." leon blushes, going to turn away from you. "what? i thought you liked being called puppy." you continue to tease, kissing him lovingly. leon sighs, "i'm not gonna live this down, am i?" your boyfriend mumbles as he leans his forehead against yours. "nope. i love you." you giggle as the two of you settle. "i love you more."

[milkiane]

matters the most

pairings: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: profanities, mentions of alcoholic beverages, sexual comments

word count: 1996

request: give me rafe angst with prompt "god, i can't even look at you"

a/n: all the love to @s1ater as always, and thank you to @iwritesiriusly for being the best <3

love is such a concept that most people would often dream of, wanting the full experience of having butterflies in your stomach, fireworks erupting with every kiss, the messy and complicated rollercoaster ride. everything about love just sounds so beautiful.

love brings two people, from strangers, or enemies, or life-long friends, together and creates sheer happiness and adoration for each other, but love is never always about all that cliché domesticity. sometimes it’s all about the thrill and the danger that it brings along.

it was funny, really. how rafe, who wasn’t afraid to express his hatred for pogues, fell for one. love did work in mysterious ways, they said.

neither of you knew how you lasted for 8 months without getting caught, but both of you knew that the fun wouldn’t last for long before something would come in between.

he didn’t know that his dad and rose would be home earlier than they said. he thought he’d have the house to himself, that’s why he invited you to come. amidst a steamy make-out sesh did they walk in, followed by an argument between the two men. you awkwardly stood behind rafe, lips swollen and cheeks red as rose glared at you.

it didn’t end well, but when does it ever? forbidden love had its perks, but it also had its downfalls. ward demanded to break off whatever liaison his son had with you, whilst still raving about his disdain for the likes of you and how rafe turned out to be just like his disappointment of a sister. rafe decided that he’s had enough and stormed off with you.

that’s why rafe was in the cut at the dead of the night, standing in front of the chateau.

he shook his head, bringing out his phone to give you a call as he brought the large blanket closer to his chest.

incoming call: rafey <3

groaning, you reached out your hand and blindly patted around your bed for your ringing phone. the brightness of your phone glaring at you to the degree, making you hiss.

“rafe? it’s 2 in the morning, why the-” you grumbled, eyes fluttering close as sleep started to glaze over.

“come outside, babe. i’m on your front porch,” he said, taking in the sight of it before silently muttering, “if you could even call it a porch.”

“shut up, rafe,” you groaned, ending the call as you threw your blankets to the side and leaving your warm sanctuary to see your boyfriend. quietly making your way past john b’s room and jj, who was sleeping on the couch.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his torso as he placed a kiss on your temple.

“wanted to come see you, we don’t know to what extent my dad’ll go to make us break up, so let’s make the most of our time,” he shrugged, reaching out for your hand, he intertwined your fingers together and dragged you towards an open space.

rafe unfolded the blanket and spread it out, laying down on it as he opened his arms to invite you in.

snuggling into his embrace, you smiled softly, “you know, i’m usually the one who sneaks out to see you,”

he chuckled, his chest vibrating as he did, “yeah, but we gotta have some change now, i guess,”

you sighed, nuzzling deeper into his arms, “imagine if the clash between the kooks and pogues never existed, if the odds were in our favor, we would have lived happily,”

“we’ll get married,” rafe started, then tilted his head to look down at you, “a beach wedding, d’you want a beach wedding?”

“yeah,” you grinned, playing with the rings on his fingers, “then we’ll have two kids and a dog, and a house in between figure 8 and the cut,”

silence surrounded the both of you, sad smiles on your faces as you looked up at the twinkling stars. the chirping of cicadas and the rustling of the trees serving as a piece of calming music.

after a while, rafe began to speak up again, “are you… are you sure that this is worth all the secrecy, y/n?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, removing yourself from his hold to you look at him, “what?”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “i just- we knew it would end one way or another, right?”

you paused, trying to let his words sink in before asking him, “what’re you trying to say, rafe?”

by now, he was already sitting up, “i’m just saying that we just got lucky that we lasted for nearly a year. i mean, it’s far-fetched, you’re a pogue, and i’m a kook. it would have been easier if you were like me,”

you scoffed pathetically, “oh, so it’s my fault now that i was born a pogue? well, i’m sorry that i couldn’t control how life works, that i have to work my ass off 24/7 to keep myself surviving,”

“you know that’s not what i meant, baby, it’s just that-“ rafe groaned, he didn’t know what else to say because that’s exactly what he meant.

“then what is it, rafe? you don’t know how hard it is to work multiple jobs just to keep yourself afloat, it’s unfair how we didn’t choose to live like this, yet you kooks torment us for trying to have food to serve on our tables,” you fumed, “so i’m sorry that we don’t have golden spoons sticking out of our mouths or that our daddies don’t give us whatever the hell we want,”

“i can’t believe you doubted us for even a second,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes to keep your tears from falling, “do you think this was all easy for me, rafe? because no, it wasn’t, but i still loved you with all that i am, with all that i have, because i knew that we’ll get through this.”

“y/n-”

“god, i can’t even look at you right now,” you stood up, grabbing your phone as you made your way back to the chateau, tears gathering in your eyes.

“y/n, wait, c’mon-”

rafe grabbed your arm, but you immediately removed it from his grasp as you whipped around, “you know, i may not have a lot to offer, but i knew that i made you happy and i loved you an awful lot, so i’m sorry if that wasn’t enough.”

you let the tears fall this time, looking at him one more time before going in and slamming the door shut, making jj jump up in surprise, “y/n?”

rafe stood there for a moment, trying to shake away the broken look on your face from his mind. he sauntered after you, knocking aggressively at the front door, “y/n, c’mon, i’m sorry, baby.”

john b rushed out of his room, jumbled and confused as he held the bat up, “wha-?”

you shoved him away and hurried back to your room. the two boys exchanged looks before opening the door. to say that they were shocked to see a disheveled rafe cameron on their doorstep was an understatement, “what the fuck are you doing in here, cameron?”

he ignored them and tried to push past them, “get outta the way, pogues,”

but they weren’t having it, they pushed him back with a glare. he scoffed, looking back once more before slowly backing off, grabbing the blanket before speeding away on his motorbike.

you wouldn’t choose to be here if you had a choice, but alas, if it means working at the midsummers and earning a decent salary with free champagne to drown your sorrows in, then you might just have to.

so, clad in a waitress’s apparel, too tight for your liking, and a tray of glasses of champagne in hand, you maneuvered your way towards the old uppity haughty kooks.

at a respectable distance, rafe was looking at you with a sad look on his face, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and tell you how sorry he is and how he loves you so much.

it was when topper’s voice snapped him out of his trance, “have you seen l/n’s ass in that uniform? i would’ve done her right then and there if she wasn’t a pogue,”

the sounds of his friends’ laughters fumed him, but instead of saying anything, he shot up out of his seat and approached you.

you momentarily glanced at him and swallowed, “champagne?”

he grabbed the glass that you shoved at his chest, fingers grazing over another, “y/n, please, i just want to talk,”

“i’m not here for you, cameron,” you caught a glimpse of his friends slowly approaching the both of you, sniggering from behind him, “i’m here to earn some money, so if you’ll excuse me,”

but before you could even make your way around them, topper and kelce harshly knocked on your shoulders, the tray of glasses breaking into pieces as it fell.

“watch it, pogue,”

gasps were heard across the room, as you staggered back from the force. you heard pope and jj run towards you, john b and kiara excusing themselves from the guests to follow.

you let out a shaky breath, crouching down to pick up the pieces as ward slowly walked over to scold you.

as they continued to laugh, they risked a glance to see a livid rafe glaring at them instead of laughing along with them, and with that, their laughter died down, a look of confusion replacing their amusement.

rafe looked around, catching the eye of his father who stopped in his tracks, a glint in his eye as if he was daring him to go help you, to ruin their family’s reputation.

without a single doubt, he took the broken shards from your hold and raised you up by your arms, earning another round of gasps from the crowd.

he looked at you, silently asking for permission. when a small smile tugged your lips, he leaned in slowly, closing in the proximity of your lips. your arms wrapped around his neck as his own wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

as you heard his father’s footsteps, rafe pulled away and grabbed your arm, sprinting into a run.

“rafe!”

the both of you burst into laughter as you dashed through the crowd, hands still intertwined as you looked for a quiet spot.

you stopped at their backyard, fairy lights hung from tree to tree, and the music from the platform softly echoing. trying to catch a breath, you let your head fall on his chest. rafe’s hand ran through your hair, “i’m sorry, y/n,”

“rafe-”

“no, no. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean what i said, okay? i love you too much,” he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks, “i’ll gladly give up the life i have right now if it means spending it with you. none of this luxury would compare to you, no amount of money would make me happy as you do.”

you pulled him into another kiss, running a hand through his hair. it was slow, sensual, something different from the type of intimacy you often did, as though if you rushed things, you’d open your eyes to see that everything was just a dream. rafe brought you closer than possible, a hand resting the other on the small of your back and on your hip, rubbing slow circles on the exposed skin.

pulling away slowly, you whispered a hoarse, “i love you, rafe cameron,”

he smiled softly, swaying slowly to the distant music. an aura of love and sovereignty enveloping the both of you in a bubble of your own. none of you cared about the rivalry anymore, or his father, or what other people would say. let them talk.

it wouldn’t bother you, because you had each other, and that’s what matters the most.

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[unwrittenlibrary]

be still my foolish heart (don’t ruin this on me)

Summary: bucky barnes doesn’t have very many people left in his life who care, but he has you... or; five times you and bucky show your love & the one time you finally say it. (bucky x fem!reader)

Words: 4.3K

Warnings: fluff & pining. no major spoilers of tfatws. 

Notes: hi! i was going to try and maintain separate accounts to keep my writing organized, but i am lazy and can’t switch back and forth all the time. so! here’s to me now being a multific blog! i hope this does not upset my current followers (and maybe brings some new ones in) this was originally posted my ao3 . happy reading! 

I.

You’re the only person who calls him James. It fluctuates between Buck and James, but either way, you’re the only person allowed to call him either.

He thinks his name just sounds so pretty coming from your mouth. He doesn’t want to hear anything else. Doesn’t really want you to call him Bucky because then it won’t sound right when anybody else does.

So you’re the only person that calls him James. The only person he lets call him James.

“James.” You say softly as he falls onto your couch. He’s got a black eye and a busted lip and he knows there’s nothing he can say to quell your worry. So he settles with a smile that causes a wince that makes you let out a breathless laugh. “I told you to be more careful.”

You sit on your coffee table across from him and lean forward with the washcloth in your hand. His eyes fall to his lap and he nods. “You should see the other guy.”

You shake your head tensely as you gently wipe at the dried blood carefully to avoid the bruise still forming. “James. I’m serious. You’re not invincible.” He raises an eyebrow and you sigh. “You may be a super soldier, but you can still get hurt. I hate seeing you hurt.”

You lean back and drop the cloth onto the table next to you. “I know, doll.” You shake your head at the nickname and he smiles. You had told him you thought it was corny, but as long as you called him James, he would call you doll.

And he knew you secretly liked the nickname.

The same way you knew he secretly liked to hear his name when you said it.

“I have some vaseline in the bathroom. We can put it on your lip and then you need to get some sleep.” You pull him by his hand down your hall.

He glances out the window of your bedroom before you pull him into the bathroom. “I don’t need to sleep, the sun is still out.” He says quietly as you search through your cabinet.

You look up sharply. “You need sleep. I’ll be right here, okay?” You stand up straight and lift some vaseline with a q-tip. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Your eyes focus in as you gently apply the vaseline to Bucky’s lip.

He has to force himself not to smile. The cut will be gone by tomorrow and this will have been all for naught as it won’t affect how it heals. He appreciates the comfort it gives him. He relishes in the warmth that came with your care and love for your friends.

You step away with a proud smile. “I think I’m supposed to do the protecting, doll.” He says quietly. He desperately wants to reach his hands out and settle them on your waist.

Feel the warmth through your worn out sweatshirt and pull you close. But he doesn’t, afraid of something but unsure of what exactly, so he smiles graciously.

“We protect each other, James. In different ways.” You say just as quietly.

It’s all Bucky needs to get a couple comfortable hours of sleep in your room.

II.

He calls you every night. Or at least he tries to when he’s not in DC. Sometimes they’re so busy he doesn’t get the chance.

Tonight was one of those nights. He stares desperately down at his phone, urging the time to change so it was earlier in the night. He couldn’t call now. Not in the middle of the night when he knew you were asleep.

“You gonna go to bed?” Sam asks quietly from his spot in the living room. He’s been sitting silently with Bucky since they returned to the hotel, but Bucky could tell he was exhausted.

Bucky nods. “I’ll sleep out here.” He says quietly and unwilling to claim a bed. He couldn’t sleep in one for a full night, he could barely nap in yours when you forced him to rest.

Sam frowns and they both know he understands Bucky’s fear of the too big and too soft bed sitting empty in the other room. But the man nods before disappearing into his room and shutting the door behind him.

Bucky rests his head against the back of the couch and begins to take deep breaths. His phone vibrates in his hand and his eyes widen when he sees your name flash across the screen.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Doll? What’s got you up so late?”

You laugh quietly. “Just knew you needed me.” You say after a moment of silence. “We’ve got that telepathy. I know things.”

Bucky laughs softly. “Yeah? You just knew?” He finds himself believing your words, even though he knows the more likely scenario is that you couldn’t sleep either.

You sigh into the phone and Bucky shuts his eyes again. “Sam texted me, but I was already awake. I switched shifts with the night nurse today, so I’ll be awake all night.”

“You know you don’t have to call when you’re at work.” Bucky says quietly. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

You laugh. “I have a few minutes to myself while the other nurse mans the station. Most of the kids are asleep, so I can spare some time for you. Especially when you need me.”

Bucky nods for a second before realizing you wouldn’t be able to see it. “Thank you.”

“What’s wrong, James?” You ask in a whisper. He listens for a moment as you take a sip of something, probably your water, before deciding to answer.

“This is longer than I thought I’d be gone…” He trails off. Him and Sam were originally only supposed to be in New York for a few days, a week tops, but this mission had dragged on and it had already been almost two weeks. “I…” He trails off.

He missed home. Something he’d never thought he’d think of DC as. Brooklyn had been his home and he was only a bridge away. Brooklyn had been his home. Steve. Wakanda for a short period of time.

But Steve was gone. And he was no longer recovering under the Wakandans graceful care. Brooklyn was a distant memory and DC… Well DC had you. And at some point you had become home for him.

“I know.” You say quietly, like you understand his silence. You do, he supposes. You understand almost every part of him. You understand that he missed you and home , but that he still struggles to admit his feelings. “I miss you too, James.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, but he doesn’t really have a chance to. He hears a siren in the background then you rush out, “Shit. I have to go!” Then all that’s there is a dial tone. Bucky smiles though. You’re off to be a different kind of hero.

He sits in silence and lets your words wash over him. It was new having all these people who cared about him. Decades all alone and treated as a weapon made learning to let people in again a new kind of difficult.

But it didn’t feel as hard with you there to help, he thinks

III.

He has to force himself to keep his eyes open. His nightmares had been particularly awful this week, and now he was sitting beside your heavily asleep body.

He was stuck staring at the repeating trailer on the netflix screen. Logically, he knows he could close his eyes and rest his head against yours on his shoulder.

But he was terrified a nightmare would take over and he would wake you up with a jolt, or worse hurt you if it was particularly awful.  

So, he forces himself to stay awake and watches the movie trailer again. He thinks you would like the movie.

“Buck.” You mutter tiredly. His eyes snap to you and he finds your eyes open and staring up at him. “Aren’t you tired?”

He shakes his head gently, careful to not move you. You narrow your eyes and slowly sit up. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You can stay here tonight.”

Bucky hesitates as you stand. He watches as you stretch your entire body and has to force his eyes to his lap when your shirt rides up and your stomach shows.

He had never spent the night at your place. He had spent all day. Even napped at your place often when he came over in the afternoon and you forced him to rest.

He always left before you went to sleep though. So he could suffer through his dreams on his own. So he didn’t drag you down.

You look down at him with soft eyes. “Grab some water. I’ll be in my room, okay?”

“I can go home. I don’t want to intrude.” He answers. Bucky looks out your window and sees just how dark and dead the streets outside were. It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about walking home.

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish. “It’s late and you’re tired, I don’t want you getting hurt. Stay here.” The words are quiet but hold a fierceness that Bucky knows not to argue against.

He nods. “I’m gonna grab some water then.” The nerves coiling around his stomach is almost worth it when your face lights up and you nod excitedly.

The two of you split up in the hall. You moving towards your bedroom and him into the kitchen. After pouring a glass of water, he stands still for a moment and just studies the room.

Your counter is crowded. Different appliances pushed against the wall, ready to be pulled out and plugged in whenever you wanted. A utensil holder stuffed to the brim with spoons and spatulas that seemed to keep appearing. Mail piling up on the counter. A scrub top draped over the back of one of your barstools.

Your kitchen was crowded, but lived in and so very you that Bucky loved it. He loved you, he thinks almost hesitantly.

He pushes the thought to the back of his mind when you call his name out. He knew he cared about you deeply and he loved you as a friend but this feeling in his chest and the speed of his heartbeat makes him think maybe he’s started to feel more. Or maybe he always has.

He doesn’t want to ruin this though. So he pushes the thought away and makes his way towards your room. “I can sleep on the…” His words die on his tongue when he sees the small set up of blankets and pillows beside your bed.

You’re watching him nervously as you try to gauge his reaction. Bucky is stuck standing in stunned silence as he looks it over.

You’ve pulled out a thin duvet and placed it on the ground with extra pillows and blankets for him to lay on. “I remember Sam mentioning soldiers have a tough time sleeping through the night in a bed. Obviously you can sleep in the bed if you want but I just figured that…” You trail off and gesture towards the makeshift bed with a small flourish.

“This is…” He trails off. The warmth in his chest grows with each passing second and his heart races. “Thank you. This is perfect.”

A smile spreads across your face. “Good. Good. I was… I’m glad. And I’m right here if you need me. To protect you.” You say with a teasing glance as you crawl into the bed.

You lay on the side closest to where you’ve set up the floor for him. He laughs softly before moving towards his own space.

He’s still nervous to sleep in the same room. Still feels a little self conscious as he lays his head on the pillow and pulls the light blanket over him. But you don’t seem to really mind his presence as you make yourself comfortable above him.

He takes a deep breath. He definitely loved you.

And things like this gave him hope that you did, or maybe could, love him too.

Later that night he jolts awake with heavy breaths and you look down at him with worried eyes. He shakes his head when you open your mouth not wanting to talk about the dream.

It’s the same thing every time. People that he hurt who didn’t deserve it. The pain of his memories being erased. And he doesn’t want to weigh you down with his trauma anymore than he already has.

You watch him for a moment before nodding silently. Bucky thinks that’s the end of it but he’s shocked when your hand falls off the side of the bed palm open.

He glances up at you and you smile gently but say nothing. He reaches his right hand up and interlocks his fingers with yours.

It’s a little awkward and his arm tenses after a few minutes but it’s far too comforting for him to want to let go. Your hand tightens in his and Bucky finds it easier to fall asleep his hand intertwined with yours.

IV.

Bucky felt awkward in the hospital. He felt too hard and intimidating to be standing in the center of the pediatric ward waiting for you in your teddy bear scrub top and white bottoms.

“Excuse me?” He glances down when he feels a tug on his hand. There’s a young boy standing in front of him with wide eyes. “You’re friends with Captain America?”

Bucky hesitates for a moment before answering. “Yes.” He settles on saying as gently as he can.

He glances around in search of you. He had texted you when he arrived at the hospital and you had responded with a thumbs up, but he was assuming you had gotten busy in the time in between.

The boy squeals excitedly. “Is he here too? Can I meet him?”

Bucky shakes his head softly and kneels to be at eye level with the boy. “He’s home with his family.” When his eyes begin to water and his lip pouts, Bucky begins to panic. “But! I’m sure he’d love to visit soon! I can bring him! What’s your name?”

“Riley!” He looks up at the sound of your voice. A large smile spreads across your face at the sight of Bucky kneeling before the kid.  You say something to the nurse beside you before rushing down the hall towards them.

“Riley.” You place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing out of bed? You’re supposed to be in bed.” You look down with imploring eyes and the young boy looks away with an embarrassed smile.

“But! It’s Bucky! He’s Captain America’s sidekick.” Bucky’s mouth falls open in shock at the boy's statement.

“Sidekick?” Bucky asks in an offended tone. “Well-“ He cuts himself off when you look at him with exasperated eyes.

“And he said he would bring Captain America in! To meet me!” The boy's excitement obviously leaves him ignorant of Bucky's offense at being called a sidekick.

“And I’m sure he will. But right now you should be in bed.” You say sternly. The boy nods dejectedly and allows you to lead him back into his room.

When you come back out a large smile spreads across your face at the sight of Bucky standing and wiping his hand against his pants.

He can’t help but reciprocate the same large smile. He drops the bag in his hand on the counter beside him and opens his arms as you slam into him with your arms around his waist.

“Thank you so much! I thought my night was ruined!” You pull away but don’t let go as you smile up at him. “We can eat in the cafeteria.”

You grab the bag before he gets the chance to. You turn to the nurse that was sitting and going through charts next to you and with a big grin say, “Page me if you need me, I’ll be in the cafeteria!”

The woman nods with a soft laugh before looking down at the computer. You take Bucky’s hand in yours and begin to pull him towards the elevator.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I know hospitals aren’t your thing.” You say quietly as the two of you step in. You lean away and press the two button.

Bucky thinks for a moment that you’re going to let go of his hand now that you’re not leading him anywhere but you don’t. Bucky smiles at the thought of this becoming a normal occurrence.

Your hand just felt right in his.

“Anything for you, doll.” He says quietly. He glances at you quickly before looking back at the descending numbers. “You’re my best girl.”

You nudge him with your shoulder as you laugh quietly. “That sounds like a line right out of the forties.”

Heat rises to Bucky’s cheeks but he laughs along. “You can take the man out of the forties but you can't take the forties out of the man.”

The two of you look at each other before you both burst out laughing. When the elevator stops on your designated floor you pull him out with you.

“As long as I get to be on the end of all that forties charm, I don’t mind a bit.” You lean into his side and smile brightly.

Bucky looks away as his cheeks turn an even brighter red. You giggle quietly when he looks back down at you. “Yeah. It’s always you at the end of it.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment before you pull him into a crowded cafeteria. “Let’s eat before I’m paged back to my floor.”

V.

Bucky had grown more comfortable around you the longer you knew each other, but he still struggled to be fully comfortable with his arm.

It was a different arm, Steve had said once what felt like forever ago. He had rationalized with Bucky. His other arm had been attached to him and forced on him as a weapon. This arm had been made for him with peace in mind. It was untarnished. Mostly.

But a different arm didn’t change much for him. He had still caused so much pain with it. Was it really that different at all? His arm had always and will always be looked at as a weapon.

So he still wore long sleeves and a glove most of the time. Rarely let you see his biggest shame. You usually didn’t push. Sat on his right side. Held his right hand. You rarely said anything about it, it was almost like it didn't exist.

But, curiosity won out sometimes.

“Why won’t you let me see your arm?” You ask quietly one night. He’s sitting on one of your bar stools as you mix a pasta sauce in front of him.

It had been silent most of the night. You insisted on cooking your famous (at least that’s what you called it) pasta dish after not seeing him for a few days as a welcome home.  

Bucky looks up at you with shocked eyes. You had never mentioned wanting to see his arm. He had assumed you didn’t want to.

“I… I don’t know.” He says quietly. He taps his fingers, his flesh fingers, against the counter top nervously. You watch him with hopeful eyes waiting for a real answer to the question. “I guess it’s easy to pretend it’s not there when someone’s never really seen it.”

“Hm.” You mumble in response. You step away from the stovetop and move towards him. “Why would you want to pretend it doesn’t exist? It’s a part of you.”

Bucky looks down at the gloved hand in his lap. “Doll… It’s not… It’s an ugly part of me. Dark and violent. And when I’m with you I get to pretend I’m not that.”

You come to stand in front of him. “There are no ugly parts of you. There’s you. There’s dark and there’s hurt and traumatized parts, but no part of you is ugly. Because on the other end of those there’s bright and happy and healing. Growth. James Buchanan Barnes, I can’t emphasize how beautiful I think you are.”

You raise your hand to rest it against his cheek and force him to look up at you. He shuts his eyes and leans into it. “And I’d really like to see your arm. To know that part of you too, but I won’t make you show me. I want you to show me on your own time.”

Bucky lets himself relish in the softness of your hand against his cheek before leaning away. “Okay…” He takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

He begins to shrug out of his jacket when your hand comes to rest on his right shoulder. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I need you to know that.” You say quietly.

Bucky gives you a small smile. “I know… Doll, you’re the person I trust most in the world. I want you to know me. All of me.”

You smile down at him and take a step back to give him space. Bucky shrugs the jacket off quickly before he can second guess himself. The glove comes off next and Bucky feels strangely naked as your eyes trace over him.

“Buck…” You trail off. Your hand comes up before pausing. You look up at him with questioning eyes and he nods. Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and you raise his sleeve up a tiny bit to look at the scars that litter his shoulder.

Bucky rarely looked at the scars there. Decades of the arm built by HYDRA had destroyed so much of his skin it had taken forever for Shuri to properly fix and build his new arm.

Your hand moves from his shoulder to the metal arm and your fingers trace over the plates and move through the lines of gold. You move your hand in silence. Slowly taking in the creation.

“This is beautiful.” You finally say quietly as your hand meets his. You interlock his metal fingers in yours and he pulls you closer. You look down at him with a sincere smile. “How could you ever think this is anything but beautiful?” You ask quietly.

Your other hand comes to rest on his cheek again. Bucky looks up at you and sees a flurry of emotions flicker in your eyes.

Part of him wants to pull you down and kiss you senseless. Show you how much he appreciates your never ending warmth.

But he can’t bring himself to ruin the moment. Finds that he doesn’t really want to. He enjoys being here intertwined with you.

And I.

He doesn’t hide his arm from you anymore. Finds himself shedding his jacket and gloves the second he’s inside your apartment.

You don’t really say anything, but he’s noticed the smile on your face whenever you notice him in his short sleeve shirt. He thinks one day he’ll be ready to go out without gloves on. He’ll wear short sleeves out in the summer instead of covering up with the jacket.

But now with you, it feels like progress enough.

You sit on his left most of the time now, like tonight, and hold his metal hand in yours like it’s flesh. It had taken some getting used to. He had flinched away the first time you’d done it, but now it felt almost like habit.

You didn’t seem to think leaning against his metal arm was uncomfortable at all. Never showed signs of discomfort when your head rested against his shoulder.

“I love you.” You say quietly. So quietly Bucky almost doesn’t hear it. He freezes for a moment before swallowing and nodding. He assumes you mean the words as a friend, he had heard you say them to Sam and your other friends from work.

“Me too.” He says just as quietly. He’s sure if he says the actual words you’ll see just how much he means them. How terribly in love with you he is.

But that doesn’t seem good enough because you sit up and place a gentle hand on his cheek that forces him to look you in the eyes.

“James, I love you.” You say the words with so much passion that Bucky knows without hesitation that you mean you’re in love with him. That you loved him as more than a friend.

Tears gather in his eyes as he nods. “I love you too, doll.” He laughs wetly as a smile spreads across your face. “God. I love you so fucking much it’s scary.”

You laugh too. “Good. I was so fucking scared. Buck, you’re my best friend. I… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Bucky’s hand moves from his lap to your cheek before landing behind your neck. He pulls you in and when he kisses you and you kiss back he thinks he finally understands how much you love him.

Moments flash in his mind as you crawl onto his lap so you’re straddling him. Your constant patience with him. The gentle way you say his first name. The bright smiles and great excitement.

The ability to see the beauty in him.

You pull away with a deep breath and begin peppering kisses across his face. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You say quietly.

Bucky shuts his eyes as he relishes in your affection. “I love you too.” He murmurs. You had become his home.

Somebody who could mend the crack caused by Steve’s departure. Different aspects of his life, yes, but you had helped him heal nonetheless.

He loved you.

And you loved him. You always had. It had just taken Bucky some time to understand how you showed it.

[f1nalboys]

Backstage - Bday fic for Danny

HAPPY (very late im sorry) BDAY TO @knifewh0re !! I really hope you like this and i hope your birthday went well AND i hope today is even better!!! 

Poly!Ghostface x Danny

WORD COUNT: 1978

WARNINGS: they/them pronouns afab reader (which is danny), oral (amab and afab recieving), vaginal fingering, implication of more sex, semi-public sex, closet sex, time crunch, the boys aren’t mean in this one besides like two off-hand comments from billy

Billy and Stu stood backstage before the show searching for you. Stu was bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically vibrating with excitement. “Stu, man, relax. You’re getting on my nerves.” Stu pouts and opens his mouth to say something but stops himself. He elbows Billy in the side harshly, pointing down the crowded hallway. Billy cranes his neck and breaks out into a grin.

It was you. You were surrounded by your band, decked out in your stage outfit and laughing and god you looked beautiful. Billy didn’t wait for Stu and took off down the hallway, his heart beating. You went to college with them, actually had a class with Billy, but you didn’t know them. They knew you, obviously.

Your band was getting popular in the punk scene and Stu had seen you play live a few months ago and immediately fell in love with your voice. He forced Billy to listen and, even though punk wasn’t his most loved genre, he had to admit that you were fucking amazing. And now they were here. Stu had bought backstage passes for the show and told Billy that they had to talk to you.

“Danny!” You turn around at the sound of your name with your eyebrows furrowed. Stu had caught up to Billy and had a big smile on his face, waving you over. Even though you didn’t know the two of them you went over, their smiles and the blush creeping up the neck of the brown haired boy made you curious.

“Uhm, hey. You two know me?”

“Yeah! We actually go to school with you, Billy here’s in your Intro to Film History class with you,” Stu says, nudging Billy towards you with his elbow. Billy forces a smile, his heart beating fast when you smile back. “And we happen to be huge fans of yours.”

You grin, turning around and waving off your band member, asking them to give you a few minutes. “Sorry about that. We have like half an hour before the show starts. So, you go to school with me? How come I’ve never seen you two around before? Think I would’ve noticed two cute guys.”

Stu lets out a high pitched nervous laugh, punching Billy on the shoulder hard. He was fucking star struck at this point. “Cute? You think we’re cute?” He says with a grin that only grows when you nod. They were cute! Stu was wearing a button up shirt and a denim jacket - which Billy had bought him specially for this - and Billy wore a tight black t-shirt and ripped jeans. 

“I’m Billy, that’s Stu. And you’re Danny, right?” 

“Sure am. So, any reason you two came out here to see us play?” Billy’s eyebrow raises. He could have sworn you were flirting with them. Stu seems to think the same thing because he makes a small choked noise which makes you laugh, hard. 

Stu shrugs, deciding now is the perfect time to start acting more suave. “We wanted to wish you luck before the show. With words or actions, whichever you’d prefer.” If Billy weren’t hoping you’d say yes he would have turned around and punched Stu as hard as he possibly could for being so god damn forward. 

“I mean, I could definitely go for some physical encouragement. You two think you could make it quick?”

“Wait, really?” Stu was actually pretty shocked you were agreeing. He was happy, like, REALLY happy, but he was still shocked. You nod and Billy takes a hold of your hand and drags you down the hallway. He wanted to find somewhere that the three of you wouldn’t be interrupted.

You stop him halfway down the hallway and pull him into a dark room, flipping the light on when Stu comes in behind you both. It was a supply closet, a fairly large one, and Stu locks the door behind him as Billy pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Wait, wait, no,” You say, pushing away from him. He gives you a confused look, worried he had gone too fast too soon. “Can’t kiss; can’t fuck my stage makeup up.” He snorts, deciding to kiss your neck instead. Stu’s behind you, the two men trapping you in between their bodies.

Stu replaces Billy’s lips on your neck, nipping at your pulse and grinning against your skin when you moan. Billy is on his knees, working on getting your pants off. His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he yanks your jeans down and you hiss, goosebumps raising down your legs.

Your head rolls back against Stu’s shoulder as his hands slip up your shirt and past your bra, his fingers finding your nipples with ease. Billy groans as his finger dips past your underwear, gliding down your folds. “Fuck, Stu, man, they’re soaked.”

“Are they now? You into us or something, baby?” He coos into your ear, pinching at your nipple hard and you whimper loudly. Stu laughs, his breath hot against your skin, as Billy’s fingers begin to rub circles on your clit. You’re bucking into his fingers and you let out a particularly loud moan when he moves his hand off of you.

Your eyes pop open and Billy is right in your face, shoving his fingers, wet with your arousal, in your mouth. Stu grabs the bottom of your shirt and yanks it up, slipping it off of your body with ease. “Think you could use your mouth for something else?” Stu asks with a wicked grin. Rolling your eyes, you don’t take long to debate, sinking down onto your knees.

“Can’t do it for long, boys. Got twenty minutes before I need to be out there, so you better get to it.” Stu’s pants and underwear are long gone now and he’s fisting his cock right in front of you with an eager look in his eyes. You smile, replacing his hand with your own, and licking a long stripe up the underside of his dick.

His head rolls back and he lets out a low moan as your tongue swirls over his tip. “Fuuuck, Danny…” He goes to put his hand on the back of your head, wanting to force you to take him to the hilt, but he stops himself by grabbing ahold of Billy’s shoulder. “Their mouth, man. Shit, could make me cum already.”

Billy’s hand was on his own cock and he was focused on your face. You never took Stu in your mouth fully, never moving past wrapping your lips around the tip of him, and somehow he could tell it was the best blowjob Stu’s probably ever gotten. Save for him, of course. “Wanna feel that mouth of yours,” He says and you pop off of Stu, a glob of spit connecting you to him. “Can we fuck you?”

You hesitate before your hand wraps around his cock, pumping him slowly. “God, I wish. Like, you have no fucking idea how badly I want you two, but we have less than 15 minutes and if we do it I want it to last longer than that. How bout I help you two out and you help me?” Without waiting for an answer you repeat what you had just done to Stu.

“Holy shit,” He groans. He can’t take his eyes off of you or your hands or your lips. Everything about you was intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, hollowing your lips when you take him into your mouth. “Christ, Danny, your mouth feels so fucking good. Such a good whore for us.”

You moan around him and he gasps, barely stopping himself from slamming his hips further down your throat. Stu was jerking off next to him, eyes trained on you, and he threw his head back, calling your name. “Danny, fuck, gonna cum. Where, shit! Where can I?”

Pulling off of Billy you flash the two of them a wide smile and respond simply. “On each other.”

“Huh?” Stu’s eyebrows furrowed together slightly, his hand pausing in it’s movements. You lick your lips and they watch with wide eyes as your hand reaches down and slips past your underwear. Your eyes flutter closed, soft moans leaving your lips. Music to their ears.

“I, mmh. I said cum on each other, god, and then you can taste me.” That’s all the encouragement they needed. They turned towards each other but kept their eyes on you, the sounds of your pleasure mixing with their own. Billy was chasing his high, the thought of being able to delve into your cunt sending shockwaves through his body. 

Stu is the first one to cum, both your name and Billy’s falling from his lips as he thrusts into his hand. His cum coats Billy’s thighs and hands, adding to the slick of his own cock. Billy cums soon after and Stu takes a second to get on his knees and takes his dick into his mouth, taking him to the base. What can he say, he loved Billy’s dick.

“Fuck, that was hot,” You whimper, your eyes moving in time with the bob of Stu’s head. “Hurry up and eat me out, you got ten minutes. If you do good, maybe I’ll consider making this a regular thing.” Billy’s on his knees in a second, throwing your hand off of yourself and pushing you back onto your ass. You yelp as the concrete digs into your skin but the pain is quickly washed away, taken over by the pleasure of his tongue dipping through your folds.

He’s moaning at the taste of you, his hands grabbing your thighs and spreading you wider, opening you up for him. His tongue focuses on your clit, switching between circling it to flicking it with the tip of his tongue, sucking on it every few seconds. Your hand tangles in his hair and you’re grinding down on his face when Stu’s fingers enter you.

He starts up a fast pace with two fingers, filling you so suddenly all you can do is cry out his name and roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Fuck! Please, shit, you both feel so good. Please, I’m close, please let me, please make me,” Your pleas’ urge them onwards, Stu’s fingers and Billy’s tongue speeding up. 

You cum hard, harder than you have in the past from just oral, and your body is convulsing with pleasure as they continue. They don’t stop until you practically collapse against the floor and even then Stu takes his chance to lick up your cunt, tasting you. “Mmm, you taste fucking delicious, babe.”

“You alright, Danny? We didn’t kill you, did we?” Billy asks and even with your eyes closed you know he’s smiling. You nod, take a deep breath, and stand up, your knees weak. Stu wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your neck while Billy helps you pull your pants back up, buttoning them up before kissing you on the lips. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

Stu opens the door and peeks out, looking both ways before ushering the two of you outside. Billy runs a hand down your cheek, down your neck, and he tsks at the dark marks that were forming. “Stu! Asshole, you left hickies like a 15 year old.”

“They look hot with them!” He replies, giving you another sloppy kiss on the neck, and you laugh. You shove him off of you, brushing your clothes off and looking at them with a grin. 

“So… you guys staying after the show? I’d love to show you the green room.”

Billy grins, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue, eyes dragging down your body. “For you? Hell yeah, we are. Can’t wait to see how hot you look with that makeup of yours running.”

[disasterofastory]

Newlyweds Part 3 (Uhtred x Reader)

Newlyweds Part 3 Uhtred x Reader Warning: smut

Y/N and Uhtred’s marriage will be fine.

The Great Hall is empty and silent. The air is cold without the fireplace warmth. Candles burn here and there to give you some light in the darkness. Your steps are slow and steady like the first time when you looked around in the building. There are cups on the table and abandoned pelts on the floor.

You never saw this place so deserted since you are here. Somebody is always here. Servants clean after a long day or, warriors sit down for a cup of ale before they go home to their families. Even when you wake up in the mornings, someone is already in the Hall. At first, you found it irritating, but slowly you got used to it. Finan's loud laugh wakes you up from your dreams, and you can’t sit down to drink your tea because you always have things to do.

And now the loneliness makes you sad.

You speed up your steps to reach the closed door of the bathing room. You push it open and see Uhtred lying in the wooden bathtub with closed eyes. His arms flex on the edge as he sits up, hearing your movements. He is clean from dirt and blood, unlike you. He reaches out one of his hands without a word, and you grab it for a few seconds. The skin of his palm is hardened from the sword and hard work. You draw his palm line with your thumb before you let it go and start to undress. The fabric is stick to your skin because of the blood and sweat.

The herbs-filled, steamy air settles down on your lungs as you step into the bathtub with the help of Uhtred. You sit down before him, your back against his chest, and his arms hug you for a little while. His lips peck your neck and shoulder as he frees your hair from the messy braid. He grabs a small bowl to fill it with water and pour it on your head. Your wet locks stick to your skin, and soon the herbs and flowers fill your nostrils, suppressing the steely scent of the blood.

You were full of thoughts the whole day, but now you think nothing. Feel nothing. The emptiness of your head is comforting, and you sigh when Uhtred starts to massage your scalp.

“Are you okay?” Uhtred whispers after a while. He was worried about you the whole day. When he heard about the trap, his heart stopped beating for long seconds. He thought about you and your vulnerability. You were there not so far but far enough from him. His men tried to calm him down but the whole way, he imagined your dead body so many times, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. You looked like a little shield-maiden. Clumsy and afraid but shield-maiden nonetheless. Your soft skin was bloody, and your eyes almost burned from adrenaline and anger.

“Yes,” you answer quietly. “I just want to be close to you,” you confess.

You never thought your marriage would be like this. The man, the Dane, the monster, you feared so much now means comfort and safeness as his arms hug you again from behind.

“I’m here,” he says, kissing your head.

You sit there with him till the water gets lukewarm.

“Come, you will get sick,” he says, stepping out from behind you. He wraps a towel around his waist and helps you out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel too. He caresses your shoulder for a moment, looking down into your eyes.

“I’m proud of you,” he says. “You saved a lot of lives today.”

“I was terrified,” you confess, looking down on your toes because of shame.

“And that’s why I’m proud of you,” he replies, grabbing your chin to lift it up until your eyes meet. “You could have hide, and I wouldn’t blame you, but you stayed and fought.”

You place your hands on his bare chest to support yourself as you stand on your toes. You feel his breath on your lips before he leans closer and kisses you fully. His lips are warm and soft. He moves slowly in sync with yours. His arm hugs your waist, pulling you closer to himself.

“Come,” you say to him, breaking the kiss. You wrap your fingers around his wrist to pull him into your bedroom.

“I take care of the fireplace, you go and lay down,” he says, and you do as you told.

You hear his shuffling behind you as you drop the towel onto the floor and climb on the bed. The pelts feel ticklish on your skin as you make yourself comfortable. Your hair is still wet, and small droplets run down on your bareback.

The fire illuminates his tall form. His muscles are more outlined, and you can’t believe you ever thought of him as a monster. He is handsome, and he didn’t show you anything else but kindness and patience since you are married. Of course, he is cheeky and loves teasing you, but you can live with it. You always imagined your marriage as lukewarm bathwater with an old man, who you don’t love, but now your whole body burns and hurts from desire.

He smirks at your lying form on the bed as he turns around. He let loose the towel around his waist till it falls at his feet. He is already hard, and you have to force yourself to pressure the blush on your cheeks.

You saw his naked body before, but you weren’t brave enough to look at him really. His thighs are muscled, and you make yourself blush when your gaze goes up to his V line, and your first thought is that you want to lick him there.

“What are you thinking?” He asks you slyly, walking to the end of the bed. His length bobs with his steps, and you can’t force yourself to look away.

You know this look. Uhtred is teasing you, he waits for you to be the prude Christian woman he thinks you are. You stare into his eyes with newfound bravery as you climb closer to him. As you kneel on the bed before him, his cock is at the perfect height for you.

“I thinking about me,” you start. His eyes become hooded as you touch his V line. “Licking you here.”

His hardness jumps at your soft touch, and it’s your turn to smirk at his reaction.

“You can if you want,” he says hoarsely.

“Tell me if I do something wrong,” you tell him more seriously, and he smiles at you gently with a nod.

Your fingers wrap around his manhood carefully. He is hard and warm under your palm, and you lean closer to him to trace his V line. His skin shines after your tongue. His muscles tense at you curious caresses and a low moan burst out of his throat when you move your hand on his length.

“Harder,” he says, and you look up at him under your lashes. “Like this,” he nods when you grab him more firmly, moving your hand up and down on him. He closes his eyes from the pleasure, and you take the opportunity to look at him better. He is long and hard, and you can’t help yourself but to lean down and lick a vein on his cock. He moans your name in answer, and you take it as a good sign. You play with him like this for a while. You lick him here and there before you take the next step, and you open your mouth for him. He moans again, you feel his fingers on your hair, but he doesn’t force you to do anything. He is patient even if he wants nothing else but devours you this instant.

“Lay down,” he says, nodding to the bed.

Your jaw hurts, but you are satisfied, and you got goosebumps from the waiting. Uhtred climbs above you, his body lays on top of yours as he finds your lips with his. His kiss is wilder than before, and you mewl into his mouth. Your stomach is in burning knots, you have to press your thighs closer to get the friction you want most. You feel the slickness between your legs, and you moan at the feeling of his finger on your mound.

“Open your legs,” he orders you, and you spread your legs to give him access.

Your body arches under his fingers. He plays with your folds and finds every pleasurable spot to make you moan and chant his name. His mouth nibbles on your neck, and he bites into the soft skin as he pushes his finger inside you.

“Uhtred,” you pant, grabbing his shoulders.

Your mind is cloudy and heated from impatience. With his every move, his cock touches your thighs, reminding you, what you want the most.

“I’m ready,” you tell him, caressing his bearded chin to pull him closer to you for a kiss.

“I will be slow,” he promises, pecking your nose as he positions himself.

Your walls aching from his push, but otherwise, you don’t feel pain. You feel full and hot, and you need more. You need him to move.

“It’s okay,” you stutter out, placing your heels on the bed to give you support. You fidget under him for more friction until Uhtred starts to move in and out of you slowly and steadily.

“It’s still okay?” He asks you after a while, looking down on you.

“You can be faster,” you nod. You push yourself up a little to nibble on a bruise on his pale skin.

His movements become more rapid, and you fall back to the bed. You caress his sides and his chest, kissing his neck as he moans from the warmth around his cock.

The burning feeling in your lower body becomes too much to bear, and you let out a small scream from the new feeling. Your muscles tense, turning into a soft tingle as you calm down. Your hands still on the man's shoulder, and he still moves in and out of you. You become sensitive after your orgasm, and his every move feels like a bolt of small, pleasurable lightning in your body.

He cages your body as he stays still inside you, reaching his high. His chest vibrates against yours, moaning your name. You feel his cum leaking out of you as he calms down and lays down next to you after a few minutes while you caressed his back.

His body shines with sweat like yours, and you move closer till you can lay your head on his chest. He hugs you, playing with your fingers on his stomach. Your breath and heartbeat are still rapid. You can hear the blood pumping in your veins.

“Am I still a monster?” He asks you cheekily after a while, and you smile, pecking his skin.

“Yes,” you nod. “But you are mine,” you continue, looking up at your husband's chuckling face as you place your leg between his to get closer to him.

“Seeing you today bloodily with a sword, I’m not sure I am the monster here,” he teases you.

At the beginning of your marriage, you thought Uhtred is a savage monster, but now you feel nothing but proudness thinking of yourself as a savage monster who is ready to do anything to protect her loved ones.

“I’m fine with it,” you shrug, and he laughs again, kissing your hair.

Yeah, your marriage will be just fine.

[thefanficmonster]

Unconditionally. Completely. Infinitely.

Corpse Husband x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Five months in and Y/N is not having such a nice time with the tenant that’s living inside her. She loves the company and wouldn’t exchange it for the whole world, but all the disadvantages are getting more annoying with each passing day. No worries, she’s not tackling it alone. Her amazing boyfriend, soon to be fiancé has her back.

Requested by Anon. Thank you so much for you request! As I mentioned in the reply, this is my first time writing a pregnancy fic so if I got anything incorrectly I sincerely apologize. I did some research but I can’t be sure I got everything right. If there’s something you’re not happy with, feel free to let me know. I’d be more than happy to fix the fic to your liking. Hope you enjoy ❤❤❤

“How are you doing, babe?“ This is his third time checking up on me in the last forty minutes and it’s downright hilarious. Since I can’t drink, for obvious reasons, I shoot my group chat a quick text to take a shot every time Corpse drops by to make sure I haven’t chewed off my own arm in frustration.

I’ve been chilling with a bun in the oven for about five and a half months now and it feels like I’m climbing a mountain that never stops getting steeper. I’ve progressively gotten more passive aggressive and cranky as though I myself am a baby. I think I’d be more aggressive and less passive if I could stand on my two legs without the room spinning right round. If I do manage to stand up, my feet won’t let me remain in that position for too long. I’ve heard foot massages help but to me that sounds like hell - I don’t like massages and especially not foot massages. I’d appreciate it if no hands came in contact with them, thank you.

“Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me, I’m not that helpless.“ I give him a reassuring thumbs up. “Go do something fun, babe. Heck, do it twice - one time on my behalf. I don’t want you stuck with me like this.“

I’ve been trying my hardest to be my regular cheery self around Corpse. He’s been nothing but sweet, supportive and loving since day one and he doesn’t deserve to see me during my low points where my frustration is through the roof. Sure, this was kind of an oopsie for the both of us, but I’ll never forget how happy he was when I told him.

“So, you say it’s mine, huh?“ He jokes like this every now and then, never failing to get a giggle out of me.

“I don’t leave the house, silly! Of course it’s yours.“ Is my usual response. And it’s true. I really don’t leave the house. I didn’t leave it before and I can’t leave it even if I wanted to now. The pregnancy is hitting me hard and I spend almost all my days in bed.

It’s not a pleasing sight and I try to spare Corpse as much as I can. I try not to ask for too much from him, or from anyone really. I know I can do most of the things, if not everything, on my own, so why bother my loved ones to have to deal with my messy self.

“I’m not stuck, Y/N. I want to be here.“ He sits down next to me, “Plus, playing video games without you isn’t fun.“

I automatically cuddle up to him when he gets settled on the bed, resting my head on his chest, “Aw I miss play with you. But right now all of my little bit of energy is concentrated on not falling over whenever I stand up.” I start absentmindedly tracing abstract patterns on his chest, “Who knew that in order to develop a human you lose the ability to function as human yourself? I feel like a whale washed up on land. Big, tired and sad.”

He snorts, restraining his laughter just in case it might piss me off. He’s such a sweetheart, but he should know it would take a lot for him to piss me off. Even in this state. “How can I help? I’d do anything, you just tell me what. Maybe a mass-...” I lift my head to give him the well known finish-that-sentence-I-dare-you glare. “Maybe not...”

Suddenly, I feel pressure on both my temples. It’s not yet pain, but I know it will get there soon. I cringe as I force myself to remove my hand from Corpse’s chest, reaching towards the nightstand where there’s always Advil and at least two small bottles of water. I swallow one pill and chase it with a long gulp of water, making a mental note to take another if the pain doesn’t go away in 30-40 minutes.

“You know how you can help me?“ I say, carefully adjusting my position so the both of us are comfortable, “Distract me. Talk to me. Tell me how you see the future with this misfit that’s already giving me headaches.“

He chuckles, the noise vibrating throughout his chest. I can hear the speed on his heartbeat change - it has quickened. I can only write that off as excitement when he speaks: “I don’t think the headaches will go away. I have a frightening feeling they’re just gonna get worse. A lot more sleeplessness, but a lot less vomiting. A lot more standing up and walking around. A lot more smiles and laughter. More of our friends at out house. Who am I kidding? Rae alone will invade the entire house just to spend time with the baby. You and I be damned.”

I find myself visualizing every detail he describes, all the pictures so vivid and so realistic. A smile spreads on my face as I let myself get transported into Corpse’s version of the future. To be honest, his version is almost the exact same as mine, “If she’s so occupied with the baby, maybe we’ll be able to dip out for a date night every now and then. We may be parents, but we’re not even in our mid-twenties yet.” I sigh, closing my eyes for a second, “I now regret not leaving the house more often while I could, you know?”

“Oddly enough, I do too. I feel like I haven’t taken you on enough proper dates. We didn’t seen enough of the world while we had zero responsibilities, it almost feels like it’s too late now.“

I frown, sitting up to be at eye level with him. I gently rest my hand on his cheek, making sure he doesn’t try to avoid eye contact. “Listen here: Fuck the date nights and fuck the responsibilities. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a single room if you’re there with me.” I think for a second. Deciding not to make the conversation too serious, I add, “That is if we have food and water. Wouldn’t want you to turn into a cannibal on me.”

He smiles, “I’d never and you know it.” I’m aware his response refers to both halves of my statement, putting my mind at ease.

Having sent my message across and having it well received, I sink back down in my previous position. His hand travels to my hair, his fingers combing through it carefully and sweetly, giving me that feeling of being in a bubble of love and safety. His touch has the ability to calm me down, comfort me, encourage me. He is my guiding light through the fog that represents the confusion from all the pain and exhaustion I’ve been suffering through recently. I know those bad sensations will pass, but the power he has over me is forever.

Him and I are forever. Well, Him and I and a new addition in the next four months.

“I love you so much, Y/N.“ He whispers, cutting through the comfortable silence.

“I love you too, Corpse.“ I whisper back.

“I hope our baby is like you. I hope it’ll be smart like you. Talk like you, act like you, look like you.“ He trails of, his voice wavering.

“I hope it’ll sound like you.“ I say mischievously, hiding my smirk in the fabric of his shirt

He laughs, “Sure, unless it’s a girl.”

“Are you kidding me?“ I giggle, “Especially if it’s a girl.“

His laughter rings in my ears, reminding me there’s always gonna be something to hold onto when you’re in pain. Be it his laughter, his touch, the look in his eyes. I’ll always have him there to relieve my pain. To take my mind off all my troubles. To love me.

And for me to love him right back.

Unconditionally. Completely. Infinitely.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis

[tracybirds]

I was very determined to finish something today :D Yo all knw I’m back in lockdown which like... bro every time I try to write a thing that seems to happen so I’m snowed under again......................... Anyway, decided to finish up the exhausted Virg fic I began on Friday the 13th of August and how has it nearly been a month of lockdown already?? anyway I’m reposting the first bit with this, but wanted to say thank you to everyone who left comments on that snippet and encouraged me!! And big thanks to @gumnut-logic who read the first, slightly sleep-deprived first version of this before it underwent edits

It’s 11:30pm, my brain is no longer functioning, anyways, enjoy <3

 --------------

Virgil drags his leaden feet across the floor, still pink from the hot water, barely acknowledging Scott and Alan, chatting lightly together as he walks past them.

He’s not ready to sleep, but he’s not much good for anything else either.

He’s tired from the ground up. The exhaustion is only in his feet, his calves, his thighs, but it reaches up into his mind all the same. His shoulders ache, but it’s from good work and kind deeds, a balm for any residual overthinking.

He did good today, he knows it, can feel it in every torn muscle fibre.

He’ll just rest for a moment or two. Debrief can wait. John’s probably already written up most of the report.

He collapses onto the nearest sofa, but it’s more muscle memory than aim that lands him safely amongst the cushions.

“Cannonball!” crows a voice from somewhere above him, followed by a sharp yell of “Gordon, no!” and a crash that reverberated through his skull.

Then it hits him, and he launches himself sideways.

Gordon dives onto the sofa, arms and smile wide, as though he hadn’t just come off the same seven-hour mission plus bonus two-hour administrative argument with the nearest hospital who had just had their landscaping done.

And now, incidentally, redone.

Virgil glares from the floor.

“How’s it going, V?” Gordon says, still grinning.

“Ow.”

“Did you fall off the couch? You’ve gotta be careful about these things, you know.”

Short, sharp, monosyllabic words might be enough to fend off some lower forms of life, but Gordon is rather like moss, clinging to hard rock. Virgil opts to ignore him instead as he picks himself up with a groan.

A strong, sure hand grasps his arm and he accepts the extra leverage gladly, hauling his stiff muscles upright and stretching them carefully. He can see the chair Scott had leapt from halfway across the room. Alan isn’t even pretending he’s not laughing, the jerk.

Gordon is nestling, smirking as he burrows down into his cushions.

“Let it go,” he mutters, his hand now resting on Scott’s shoulder. He can’t handle a shouting match now, jackhammering into his brain after a day filled with enough pain.

Scott settles for pulling the cushions from under Gordon’s head and he falls back onto the hard frame with a squawk.

Alan’s laughter erupts again and Virgil doesn’t bother to smother his own smile.

Gordon sits up and his eyes are shining.

“Fine, fine, I deserved that,” he says, grinning up at Scott. “Now, get lost and put the large lump to bed, I checked the stats. There’s fifteen miles registered on his pedometer and he basically hauled three tons today.”

“Not all at once, Gordon, stop exaggerating.”

Gordon shrugs.

“I know the medical studies as well as you do. Sure, they might not think rescue work counts as overtraining, but science doesn’t lie.”

“But, people do,” Virgil says, scowling at him. Each word ripped more energy from his depleted stores. “And I was resting, thanks.”

Gordon lifts a finger, waggling it with a half-smile.

“A couch isn’t a substitute for a bed,” he says, dropping his voice to mimic Virgil’s own. “How many times did you say that to me?”

“When you had a broken back!”

“Right, that’s enough.” Scott steps forward between the bickering brothers. “Decompression time for you both.”

Virgil blinks, realising that he was stooping to an argument with Gordon. Gordon, who always fought dirty, twisting intent and laughing in a way he never could manage. He must be tired.

“Virgil, can you get up to your rooms alone?”

“Yeah,” he says, holding himself upright against the sudden wave of exhaustion. It was as though in remembering he was meant to be tired, his body had decided to lean into that realisation.

“And Gordon…” Scott pauses, eyeing Gordon who was still fairly vibrating with energy even after nine hours in the field. “Go watch a fish or something. Just stay away from each other.”

Virgil is already halfway out the door and his ears have been stoppered by weariness, the external world becoming fuzzy. He doesn’t hear Gordon’s quick reply.

He doesn’t hear Alan’s sharp cry either, doesn’t even register the way the world is tilting sideways.

He merely crumples on the floor in the hallway.

***

Virgil wakes slowly, awareness seeping into his bones and spreading outwards. His neck is propped up at an awkward angle; he’s resting on the pillows that he rearranges around him every night and they are much too high.

He moans a little as he shuffles, his neck creaking as it falls back in alignment with his spine.

The gulls call from outside his window, a high and keening cry. He can hear the light whistles of forest bird. The low murmur of voices unable to pierce the early fog of morning.

He doesn’t remember making it to his bed, but nor does he intend to rise from it.

 He wants to cling to slumber, doesn’t want to make conversation or move. But he’s already lost the game of sleep and settles for burrowing further into the light cotton comforter that had seen him through every summer of his life.

A rough hand on his shoulder greets him instead and he groans a warning as it flips him onto his back.

“Come on, Virgil, we know you’re awake.”

The voice floats down from above him. He grumbles deeply, unintelligibly, and turns his back on the inhumanity of it all.

A sharp poke pierces his clouded thoughts and Virgil growled as he opened one bleary eye.

“What?”

“Gentlemen, he lives,” crows Gordon, arms wide and ready to receive undying adoration for his proclamation.

“It’s been fourteen hours,” Scott says, grimly. “Time for a check-up.”

Virgil wonders at that. Fourteen hours of sleep, while rare in their home, was hardly reason for medical concern. He suspects though, that Scott already knows this, and doesn’t resist for fear that he’ll be forced to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed.

“The air’s stale in here,” he says instead. “I don’t sleep with my windows shut.”

“Arm,” orders Scott, and Virgil lifts it automatically, puzzling over his last memories which certainly don’t involve him shutting his windows. Or entering his room for that matter.

“I fell asleep?” he asks, suddenly.

“Right in the hall,” Gordon says, his eyes dancing with half checked laughter. “You went down like a ton of bricks.”

“It wasn’t funny.” Scott’s manner is terse, his shoulders tight and the deep crease between his eyes growing as he turns to glare at Gordon. “He could have seriously hurt himself.”

“He didn’t though.” He whips around to face Virgil. “And you’re welcome, by the way. I convinced Scott to let us put you here instead of the infirmary. Even woke John up to back me. I risked the wrath of John for you, he said you were physically fine otherwise you’d be waking in that cold infirmary and Scott would have a back spasm from sleeping in those terrible chairs. All for nothing too because you’re fine.”

Virgil stares at him.

He wants to argue with Gordon, the necessity of rules made for their safety niggling at the back of his brain. He wants to roll his eyes, tell him that the infirmary beds aren’t that painful, that the fluorescent lights that blink and buzz might be made for suturing and not sleeping but that they held their own kind of relief, of comfort.

He wants to thank him, for giving him this moment where he could wake slowly to the sounds of birdsong and crashing waves, unheard in the depths of the island. For that moment where he could lay still as the sun streamed in with warmth and good cheer.

He has a thesis of carefully memorised protocols warring with pure sensation of soft coziness and the luxury of a brother who loves him.

He isn’t sure which instinct is winning when he opens his mouth.

“You made me sleep on two pillows.”

The room blurs as the soft mound beneath his head is ripped away at lightning speed. Virgil hardly has time to hear the whirl of rushing air before the pillow connects with his head with a dull thud.

Gordon jabs at his arm.

“No appreciation, I tell you.”

“Gordon! Out!”

Virgil throws the offending pillow after him, chuckling at the sharp laughter that pierced the slammed door.

Scott isn’t smiling.

He pulls the sphygmomanometer tight around Virgil’s arm.

Virgil winces slightly, but says nothing. Not yet.

Scott’s movements are precise and ordered, with nothing to suggest he isn’t conducting a normal check-up at all.

But Virgil knows his brother.

“Hey,” he says softly, watching Scott stare at the dial. “I really am okay.”

Scott’s not listening to the blood pounding through his arteries, not even in pretence. Still, he ignores Virgil and pulls up a new medical report so he can stare intently at that in place of his brother’s gentle eyes.

“Scott,” says Virgil, leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Scott shoves it away, his eyes snapping to Virgil’s.

“Why didn’t you call for backup?”

“You were off duty.”

“I don’t mean me,” Scott growls. “I mean, I do, I would’ve been there in a heartbeat if you’d asked. But you didn’t, did you? Not even Alan. Not even John.”

“John was helping,” says Virgil, sharply. “Just because he wasn’t on the ground, doesn’t mean he wasn’t working that same stretch of time. Why do you think Gordon had to wake him?”

“Stop side-stepping my point,” snaps Scott. “We’re a team, Virgil, you can’t work yourself to the point of exhaustion like that.”

“What choice did I have?”

“I should’ve been there, I could’ve-” began Scott, but Virgil merely raised his own voice.

“You couldn’t, Scott. What you’re angry about, I could turn right around and parrot back, you know. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

He fell back against the headboard, wishing he hadn’t woken up. Or at least that he wasn’t having this argument, not here and now.

And he recognises those eyes, the burning frustration at one’s own limitations and the rising fear for a brother mixed with torn compassion and understanding.

He’s mirrored Scott all his life, and it’s startling to see his own familiar expression on Scott’s face.

“Please, Virgil.”

He doesn’t say anything. He can’t make that kind of promise to Scott any more than Scott could to him. Not without breaking it.

Scott smiles sadly as he stands, accepting the silence.

He knows.

“Don’t even think about moving from this room for the next twenty-four hours. Just... get some rest, will you, Virg?”

He thinks he will.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 146

Whew, on a roll with queuing these up!  Kind of proud of myself.

Speaking of proud... So many familiar names in the notes this week!  Y’all are giving me a huge smile during a super busy week/month. Work has been bananas, weekends have been insane, and knowing that all of you are reading and enjoying the story gives me the encouragement I need to keep writing and to make the effort to keep the quality as consistent as possible.

All of you literally encourage me to take care of myself :)  Thank you so much. 

And, always, thank you to @baelpenrose, @charlylimph-blog, and @the-raven-fae, for everything you do, from beta-reading, to giving me stuff to read, to just keeping me reasonably sane. 

I huffed as I put down the box of blankets in our new quarters. With our expected drop from hyperspace getting closer, we had finally been assigned quarters closer to the Archives.  Xiomara and Tyche had both told me I was being ‘too nice’ by having Maverick put in the transfer request rather than doing it myself, but I still didn’t think it was fair to use my unwilling position on the Council as leverage to get bumped to the front of the line. After all, we had a few months to go, and with everything else going on, it wasn’t like I was in a hurry.

“Conor, be careful!” Maverick scolded as a box of dishes landed on the regrettably-smaller counter. “You’ll break them!”

“Mav, I love you to pieces,” Conor grunted and stretched his back. “But I want to point out again that we can just recycle broken ones and request new ones.” Completely contradictory to his own words, he wrapped the other man in a crushing hug and whispered something in his ear.

When Maverick gave him a skeptical look, Conor opened the box and pulled out a chipped plate. “The ones on the bottom are the ones with no chips, cracks, or stains. Promise.”

Hang on. “You let Conor pack the dishes, but you only let me pack the blankets?!”  I was honestly hurt.

Maverick kicked the floor gently, his way of showing embarrassment. “I was worried I would break them, and you know how attached I am to the chipped plates, and I knew he wouldn’t get rid of them….”

“Baby,” I whispered. “Babe. It’s okay. I like the chipped ones, too. I would never get rid of those…” I held out a hand to see if he was receptive to a hug. When he tugged my hand, I squished his waist the best I could.

“You’re so particular with the clothes, though…”

“Because I despise pills against my skin.” I shuddered at the thought. “They feel… dirty.”

I could feel him shudder in agreement. “They do, don’t they?”

Conor gave us both a squish and shook his head, chin rubbing against us both. “Just leave my shirts alone, yeah?”

Maverick’s agreement with my philosophy nearly vibrated my soul. He never notices when we replace the pit-stained ones, it’s all okay. We both casually replaced the never-ceasing rotation of Conor’s white shirts when they were dirty past the point of laundering, but made a point to leave the permanently grungy coveralls until they either gained enough sentience to run away or fell apart in despair.

“Your shirts and Brenda, promise,” I tried to swear as solemnly as possible. ‘Brenda’ was the tilandsia xerographica that he had gifted me that first Insert Winter Holiday. She was currently twelve inches, and was the third love of Conor’s life.

He nodded before releasing us. “Mav, the silverware is still by the door so you can make sure everything is in the right place. Sophia, I’ll put up the clothes if you’ll sort where you want the blankets.” Without another word, he palmed the thermostat control and adjusted it to the agreed-upon settings we had maintained for years in our shared quarters. “Head’s up, once I get the clothes sorted, I gotta go help Sam and Derek move.”

My neck cramped from the speed I whipped around to look at him. “Derek and Sam are moving?”

Maverick nodded, his chin against my scalp. “They mutually requested relocation to stay in similar proximity to our quarters… specifically to Mac.”

I rolled my eyes. “It is absolutely to be close to Mac. Not my blanket, not soup on tap, not Conor’s plants - “

“They’re your plants, love.”

“Tell the plants that,” I joked. “You keep them alive.”

He muttered something that sounded distinctly like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ as he gently set a box under Brenda’s stand and started unpacking spritz bottles, fertilizers, and the world’s tiniest pruning shears.

I can honestly say I did not laugh.  With the exception of the shears, all six spray bottles, the soaking tub, and the three different fertilizers had actually lived with me longer than he had. “The point is that I’m sure they aren’t just moving to be closer to Mac… he roams the entire Ark, so it’s a pretty lame excuse.”

Maverick and Conor both shrugged before the former spoke. “Sam likes how you cook his produce. And it’s a long walk from our previous quarters.”

“I am not going to apologize that his strawberries go better in ketchup, or that his tomatoes make amazing ice cream,” I waved off. “I know it’s a side effect of using the known composition of Von’s soil and light, but… the strawberries are orange. Like a bell pepper.”

“But the tomato soup from his tomatoes is amazing,” Conor granted. “None of us even like tomato soup.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “The one recipe you like, Sophie, proves my point, it’s not an argument. It’s the only recipe you don’t….” He gestured vaguely. “You know.”

“Zhuzh,” I provided. “I don’t zhuzh it.”

Somewhat out of nowhere, Maverick sat down in the new but familiar armchair and asked, “Is it expected to have a housewarming when you live in the same… building… ship… thingie… but moved quarters?”

“I - “ Gaping, I turned to them both. “I’m not sure. I mean… we celebrated when you two moved into my quarters, but that was more a… wedding-slash-engagement thing. Have we been invited to any for just moving?”

Conor shrugged. “All the moves were done in the first few years to settle down. Nothing like this.”

I tapped my chin before pulling up my datapad. “I’m seeing that a total of fifty people - fifty, really? - have been relocated, just to be closer to the Archives.” I took a couple of deep breaths. “I know it’s the furthest Protection Zone from the rest of the ship, but there are only fifteen people sheltering there, not counting Tyche and Alistair.”

Maverick gaped at me before waving both hands widely. “You moved, so a total of five people relocated down here, which we were just discussing, and you don’t understand how fifteen people turned into fifty?” He scowled. “Sophie, I know you can do math.”

I glared at him. “Given the nature of relationships on the Ark, I thought it would be higher, smartass.” I leaned over to kiss his chin. “But that also makes me think… block party? Take the pressure off of us?”

Conor looked thoughtfully at both of us. “I think we should put up curtains, or - you know, soft barriers, something visible but easy to navigate - for the apartments where folks can duck and cover from being wound up too much?”

He had a good point. “Just to be clear,” I ventured, “you just mean the apartments that people already know they can duck into?”

Conor’s enthusiastic nod dropped mine and Mav’s shoulders by a solid two inches. “Yeah, color code them or put proximity alerts on them, something. I don’t think anyone overstimmed wants to wander into a room full of strangers, right? Derek would know he can walk in here, straight to our bed, pile up under the blankets, and he’s fine, but… what if he walks into another person’s bedroom? Fuck all, I’ll kill someone.”

He had a point. I hated that he had a point, but he was right.

“We’re purple, right?”

Conor and Maverick collectively rolled their eyes hard enough to make my head cramp. “Duh,” was the only response Maverick gave, while Conor just shook his head.

It was only a week later that they had the door to our old quarters repainted and retextured,  and had the doors to our new quarters painted screaming purple with green and black stripes.  Just to be clear, apparently.

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[ginanosakka]

Passed Down Trauma

Masterlist

The War Has Begun | Next

“Why are you attempting to assassinate Eito L/N?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re lying, L/N. We found the notes in your home, we found the gun hidden in your car, and all of Japan has seen the video of you slandering your own father. Why did you do it?” Officer Yuikmara slammed his hands on the table in attempts to strike fear in you.

Without faltering, you said with a smile, “I can’t tell you what I didn’t do. . . but I can tell you that you have twenty four hours to let me go before it all gets fully released, Mr. Yuikmara.”

Katsuki and Kirishima stood in the living room of Katsuki’s apartment on what felt like pounds of questions and anxiety. Everything was going smoothly in the operation to protect Y/N and Ryu — now one was missing and the other was in police custody. The tension in the room was thick and despite Eijirou’s tendency to lighten situations, he made no move to ease his friend’s mind. In fact, deep down he wanted Katsuki to suffer for reasons that he knew were selfish and out of line. The unspoken feelings he had for a woman that he shouldn’t want were not hidden, and could not stay silent forever. Especially when that woman’s life was in danger and he couldn’t help but blame Bakugou.

“I’m going to burn that bastard’s house down, and Icy-Hot can put out the damn flames when I’m done.” Katsuki fumed as he paced the floor to try and calm down to think clearly. It was taking everything in him to follow the law and try to take Eito down the legal way, but with every minute he spent working on the case, he realized just how inbedded that man was in hero companies and the police force.

“That won’t get Y/N home, and you know it. What we need to do is wait for her to post bail and find Ryu, she’s probably worried about him.” Eijirou said, trying to find a way to solve all of this and think of what would help Ryu and Y/N.

Katsuki glared at Eiji, “you think you know everything? Y/N wasn’t even phased when we found out he was missing, you idiot!” Katsuki seethed at him.

“I know that Y/N loves her kid more than anything else, so maybe you were too busy being emotional to understand what she was feeling!” Kirishima bit back, not wavering under Katsuki’s harsh gaze.

“You’re just some sad, lovesick moron,” Katsuki taunted. “Why don’t you just admit the reason you don’t believe that she knows where Ryu is, is because you don’t want to believe that she’s hiding things? You think she trusts you so much that she’d tell you more than me? I can guarantee you that, like always, you’ll never be better than me.” Katsuki finished, both of them standing face to face with clenched fists and locked jaws.

The silence was loud like roaring beasts threatening the other to make the first move; two men who fell for the one they couldn’t fully get their arms around. Their friendship was equally as important to both of them, but how could one swallow their feelings for Y/N, simply for the sake of the other? Neither of them thought the other was worthy enough for such a beautiful tragedy you had written in your very bones. There was no personality, no smile, no heart that could compare to you. Even if they fought, the loser wouldn’t dare accept defeat.

A ringing phone broke through the silence, Katsuki’s pocket suddenly vibrating and taking his attention as he pulled it out. An unknown number was displayed across the screen, and in normal circumstances, he would have immediately sent it to voicemail with no hesitation or concern for who was on the other line. Today was anything but a normal circumstance.

“Hello,” he answered in a clipped tone.

“Mr. Bakugou, it’s Nanami. . I have important information I need to discuss with you.”

Rotting in a holding cell wasn’t how you wanted to spend your weekend, but it was better than being dead — you weren’t sure you wouldn’t be dead soon anyway, so you’re savoring just being in jail. You couldn’t even post bail, so you had to sit on the brick like bed and wait for everything to go through. Everything you built was currently being destroyed while you sat here calmly, waiting for the fire that is your father to be put out so you can remove the remains of his hold on your life and be free. . .

. . .Free to do what?

“L/N, you have a visitor, let’s go.” An officer interrupted your peace and opened the door of your cell, and you followed him without a word.

When you entered the small, dimly lit room, a woman sat there with such a crestfallen expression that you could barely recognize her. Her skin that was always flawless with minimal makeup was bare and her color suggested sickness. The gorgeous and bouncy hair that she did her best to maintain everyday was dull and clearly untouched. She looked like a mess, even in her bright flower patterned spring dress.

“Mom?” You said quietly, feeling a twinge of fear towards her when she was in such an unhinged state.

She looked up at you open hearing that word spill from your lips, and her expression brightened ever so slightly. It settled the fear and allowed you to fully fall into worry as you slipped into the chair in front of her — for the first time in years you offered her your hand for comfort. When her cold hand touched yours, you squeezed tightly in hopes of bringing her some warmth even in the cold room.

“I always knew you were secretly a momma’s girl,” were the first words out of her mouth along with an airy laugh. The joke was strange when it came from her, but for her sake you cracked a small smile. “I have a lot to tell you, Y/N.” She said in the softest tone you’d ever heard, grabbing every bit of your attention.

“You don’t have much time, so just say what you have to say.” You urged her, unsure of when you’d be able to speak to her again once she left this room. She had fallen off the Earth after that phone call, and you didn’t want her to leave you with questions.

Your mother began with a deep breath, “I’ve been married to your father for twenty five years. I did it for the money, never once thinking or caring about what he did and how he acted. . . until you were gone. I realized that he was. . different from other people. One day he was kind and compassionate, the next he was ruthless and cold, like a ticking time bomb that kept going off and shortening the time until it’s next reaction. It was easy to ignore at first, I just left him alone as I always did and made sure our interactions were kept completely secret. . Then he saw you on the news with that Bakugou boy-“

“You have five minuets left,” a man called on a speaker into the roo and you gestured for her to get to the point.

“What I’m trying to say is that there’s something wrong with him, Y/N. If you take him down by just destroying all his business and credibility I’m scared he’ll do something drastic that will hurt a lot of people.” Your mother said shakily, and the fear in her face was chilling you to the core, along with the fact that if you looked back you could tell that she was right.

‘What do I know about my grandparents on his side? I’ve never seen a baby picture from him, or even any picture of when he was young! What happened to him that drove him to become the controlling business man that would step on anyone in his way?’ You thought at a rapid speed, finding too many similarities between your reaction to trauma with how he always had acted. If not then more extreme.

“What am I supposed to do?” You whispered, your eyes falling to the cold metal table between you two.

“You have to talk to him,”’ your mother said. “I know you have a way of getting out of here, and when you do, go straight to him and tell no one. . You are his biggest failure in his eyes, and I know you’re the only one who can get through to him.” She squeezed your hand this time, assuring you that what she was saying was true.

“And what about you?” You asked. “Whether I destroy his business or get him the help he needs, you’re still going to lose everything.”

She smiled, “no. I just got everything I needed.”

A/N: We’re getting somewhere :P

Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki

[bxebxee]

What I have to say: This is really not what I typically write, but please allow me my self-indulgence. Also, I am rusty and unpracticed, but this made me happy to write. 

What this is: Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 

What this wants to be: Romance

What this warrants: Rated R for Rotten Relationships (and other things) 

You hold your sister’s new baby reverently. The baby is so small, and you’re scared that your bad morals would somehow seep into the skin through contact diffusion. 

“I feel like I’m already the irresponsible aunt,” you whisper, shooting your sister a terrified look. The baby isn’t even sleeping, but what if your bellowing voice would upset him. “Are you sure-” 

“Yes,” she says firmly, “You’ll be a good godparent. There’s literally nothing to do except spoil your nephew every now and again.” She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Unless we die. Then I guess you’d have to be more of a parental figure...” 

You and your brother-in-law interject at the same time in a cacophony of protest. 

“Okay, we are not dying,” he sighs as your octave increases by a half-step, “Please do not say that as I hold your offspring in my arms. I can’t feel them by the way. Seokjin, can you take him? I don’t want to drop him.” 

Seokjin takes the baby, and you feel bereft of warmth. It’s a weird feeling to note that considering your firm No Babies Policy. You miss the baby already. This is witchcraft. 

“It’s just a fucking hypothetical, relax,” your sister laughs, her eyes softening considerably as she sees Seokjin coo over his son. 

“If our baby’s first word is ‘fuck’ I am not taking responsibility,” Seokjin says mildly, eyes never leaving his baby. You don’t really blame him. 

“And you’re not blaming me either. I’ve been good,” you say. 

“Oh please, everyone curses younger these days anyway. I’d rather my son know than not know, you know?”  

“You’re pushing it,” Seokjin warns. 

“You’re such a dad,” she scoffs. 

“And you like it,” he counters. 

“Yeah,” she admits. “Yeah, I do.” 

You check your phone for the time, and it’s thirty minutes before the official start of the baby gathering. Time for you to leave. 

“Hey, it was good to see you guys. And the baby,” you tell them, hugging both lightly so as not to disturb the tenderness of the moment. Bear hugs were for a different day. “I have to head out, but I’ll come visit a lot, okay? I’ll even babysit. For free.” 

“Not staying for lunch?” your sister asks, looking very sad and disappointed, but you steel your heart. The two of you have inherited your mother’s knack of guilt-inducing looks, and you’re not about to fall for it. 

“Not today, no.” 

Seokjin nods, bidding you to take care. He knows why you want to leave before the crowd gets too heavy. 

Unfortunately for you, cosmic luck was not on your side because as soon as the front door shuts behind you, the elevator dings and Yoongi steps out, clad head to toe in celebrity black and holding five Burberry shopping bags. There’s no one around, so you don’t particularly feel the need to stand on the niceties of greetings and choose instead to brush past him in favor of the elevator. 

“And hello to you too.” he remarks sarcastically. 

“Go to hell,” you reply, wishing that you didn’t have to be in a close fucking hallway because you could smell his cologne. 

“Oh come on-” 

You press on the close door button rapidly, and the doors shut out Yoongi with a soft, muted click. 

Twelve hours later, you get a text from an unknown number. Coward is all it said. You stare at your phone screen in bed, seeing typing bubbles start and stop and start and stop. Mister Unknown Number finally settles on silence because nothing follows after the one-word epithet. 

It feels like a dare. 

--

Yoongi finally puts his phone down. You were too smart and too self-respecting to try this all over again with him, and he wants to kick himself for ever thinking that goading you would work when you were clearly over him-

His phone vibrates intensely and consistently. You’re calling him. 

“Hello,” Yoongi says, picking up the phone after just a single ring. Desperate, to be sure, but he wasn’t positive you’d wait for five rings anyway. 

“You changed your number again,” you say without preamble. 

“I’ve actually had this number for two years now,” Yoongi says. “Been getting hacked less and less. Guess you never saved the number.” 

“Why would I?” you ask, petulance peppering every syllable of your words. 

“Why didn’t you stay for the luncheon?” he asks instead of answering your question. 

“And sit in a room with you for a couple of hours pretending everything’s normal? No thanks,” you scoff. “And luncheon? Really?”

“You missed out on the shrimp toast.” 

“I think I’ll live.” 

“So why’d you call?” 

You could take the easy way out. Save your pride and your face, and pretend that you still don’t carry a torch for Yoongi. You could lie and say you just wanted to call and make sure it really was him. But you were always a glutton for pain, and he was all too happy to oblige to your needs. 

“You wanna come over?” you offer, not feeling an ounce of trepidation that he’d reject you. Yoongi always came when you asked. 

“Where do you live?” 

“It’s the same place as last time.” It’s a test. Let’s see if he even remembers my address-

“Be there in thirty.” 

--

He’s late by a few minutes, but Yoongi explains through interrupted kisses and hasty undressing that there was traffic, and he showered- 

“You could have showered here, you know,” you mutter, pawing at his dick and biting down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Yoongi always like a little pain.

“I’ll shower here after.” (After he fucked you at least twice, minimum. After he got to see you naked and temporarily his. After he was somewhat satisfied but much too sweaty for sleep.) 

And then it’s No Talking Time for a short while because he has your face occupied with inhaling scant oxygen against the mattress while his own head was buried between your asscheeks and legs, lapping and sucking at you like he had something to prove. Could this count as some form of asphyxiation? Probably. You don’t expect his mouth to make you feel close to losing control. The act had always unnerved you, but you found yourself uncaring of past discomforts and losing yourself into the feeling of soft, insistent lips. 

Yoongi eats you out with soft grunts, hands holding your thighs apart and firm. Don’t move, his hands say. His tongue up your cunt isn’t any sort of giving on Yoongi’s part; this was all selfish. He wants you to cum and feel starstruck and ruined, wants you to get it through your head that your flesh craved his flesh in the same animalistic way he needed you. 

You turn your head around just enough to be able to get out, “You can sto-” 

But he silences you with a warning slap on the ass. You are not to be deterred. 

“Stop with the tongue,” you order. 

“You’re insane,” he hisses, pulling away and shamelessly licking his lips. “You can’t ever just let me-” 

“Put it in now,” you demand. 

Yoongi lets out a terse sigh. “I should just leave right now,” he grumbles, getting up on his knees to rub his dick against you and nudges the head on your opening. “I shouldn’t be here.” He presses inside at “here” and wrenches a moan from your lips. 

“Then leave,” you sigh, pressing your ass back against him, relishing in the feeling of being filled again by Yoongi. “Just go home and jerk off instead. That’s what you’re good at, right? Leaving me?” 

“You’re a bitch for bringing that up during sex,” Yoongi says, fucking into you steadily and slowly, resisting the urge to pound into you like his baser instincts demanded. He was going to enjoy you for as long as he wanted. He knew you wanted it rough and bordering on violent, but he wasn’t going to add more ammo to your already large arsenal of Reasons To Hate Min Yoongi. 

Yoongi leans over completely, letting his torso lay flush against your back, unbothered by your sweat as it mixed with his own. You were going to feel every last inch of him inside and out. He pumps in and out slowly, sucking on your neck and breathing into your hair with audible moans of enjoyment. 

“I’m not leaving,” he groans, reaching over to rub your lower stomach gently, as if comforting you. The intimacy of this wasn’t lost on you, but you can’t find the words to tell him off. You missed his heat and the familiar weight. You are only human, after all. 

Yoongi threads his fingers through your unkempt hair, stroking gently before balling his fists into a pronounced grip. He turns your head to the side and kisses you, your neck straining from the awkward, uncomfortable position. But it reminds you of the beginning - of the before times when things were easier in the shadows of his success and unavailability. 

It’s impossible not to feel things when he fucks you this way, and kisses you, and moans soft nothings into your ear like you’re the only woman he’s ever done this with. You are atrocious at protecting your heart, and even after two years of icing him out, Yoongi barges into you like it’s nothing. 

“Don’t stop,” you moan, heart thumping against your chest. You really, really can’t stand to want him so much. 

“I won’t,” Yoongi reassures, kissing the corner of your eye. He doesn’t speed up, and instead chooses to test the limits of your patience with languorous but firm strokes. “Not until you tell me to.” 

There was nothing that compared to this - not heated fucks with attractive strangers, or money, or getting crossfaded by the Han River. When Yoongi did this to you, you almost felt like he loved you. 

--

Yoongi sleeps silently besides you in the sunlight, completely worn out after an emotionally exhausting round of sex that made him cry when he came inside you. He’s usually sensitive to the light, but he’s out cold and completely drained. You hadn’t expected that part - the crying. You thought it was just sweat until you heard rattling breaths and a hiccup. 

You watch him breathe silently from your place in his arms, unwilling to leave the small cocoon of warmth. You’re the opposite of him, and right now, you’re wired. You’ll probably end up crashing sometime later in the day, but for right now, you’re content to just watch him sleep in your bed, on your pillows, smelling like your body wash. 

You’re too old to be scared, and yet this moment fills you with dread; that once the spell of sex and yearning was broken, everything would tilt back to its regular axis, and you’d be all alone again. If you were younger, you might have up and left already. Leave him before he leaves you. And it’s not like you haven’t done that before. Your entire relationship with Yoongi is always filled with one person leaving behind the other one because nothing about the two of you ever lined up properly. 

But this time, you’re too tired to run away. So you close your eyes and pretend to sleep until it finally comes to claim you. 

[miyaniacs]

Mafia AU - Bokuto x fem!reader

A/n: uhmmm sorry for not updating ... i haven’t been motivated to continue this and then i did and forgot that i had this update lol... so here you are. The beginning of the downfall is here. Sooo Tbh it will Kinda depend on your responds to this chapter if it will take months for me to continue it - or days 🙇🏼‍��️

Chapter 12 - A decision is made

Index ; masterlist ; Chapter 11 - The encounter

Warnings: uhhh... violence? Mentions of guns

Bokutos POV

Monday 12 am

I want to punish him. I want to hurt him the way he hurt her, by messing up her life.

He looks at Ushijima with hate filled eyes, his whole aura shifts when he sees his arrogant smirk.

Why is he so sure of himself?

Does he really think that he, Bokuto, wouldn’t beat the shit out of him, right here in his office?

“Oh and Bokuto - hope you have fun with that hoe.” Ushijima smirks and now Bokuto fully breaks.

“Call her a hoe one more time.” Bokuto hisses. Furious wasn’t enough to describe what he was feeling right now. He was boiling with pure hate, his fist was ready to collide with this arrogant face of the male in front of him. He was ready to sent him straight into the hospital, hell he was even ready to kill him right here.

The one thing that was holding him back was the fact that such a quick death would be way too ‘nice’. He needs to suffer, he wants to break him, makes him feel all the pain in the world. Slowly peeling the skin off his body, until he begs him to finally kill him.

“And what are you doing then? Huh? I’m just telling the truth. She would have went to bed with you straight away the first time you saw her, just to get close to you and get informations.”  Ushijimas face is now almost touching his, sparks flying, both ready to beat each other up. “That’s only because you’d force her to do so.”

He laughs again. What is so funny, was it all a joke to Ushijima? A joke that he ruined your life, forcing you to throw yourself at random man, just to get information out of them? And for what? A small amount of money, comparing to what Ushijima probably owns? Oh he has to deal with the consequences at some point, he has to ... feel the consequences.

He can already see him hanging on a wall, blood dripping off the several cuts on bis body, his arrogance long gone as he looks up at him with eyes, showing that Bokuto did it, that he broke him.

Suddenly he feels someone tugging on his arm and he spins around, taking a few seconds to understand that he is still im the office. The fire in his eyes burning up again as he sees the fearful look on your face. He wants to comfort you and ask what happened, but then the shook took over him. You’re afraid of him.

He takes a few steps back, giving you some room to breath.

He couldn’t talk to you, the knot in his throat hindering him from telling you how sorry he is. Bokuto is lost in his thoughts the whole way back to the car and during the drive.

He is filled with guilt.

He hates himself for showing you this side of him.

All he ever wanted was to be a save space for you, to make you feel home and at peace.

He never wanted you to feel fear when being with him.

He has to do something and he knows exactly what.

“Go inside, I have to discuss something with the boss.” He says without looking at you his eyes still fixed on the street.

“Kou… let me explain… please.”

His heart breaks, you really feel the need to explain? To apologize? When he is the one that hurt you?

“Later.” He says way to cold for his own liking, but he couldn’t start crying now, even though he feels like it. He swallows the emotions that start to well up inside of him “I promise we talk later.” Placing his hands on your face he softens. You’re so beautiful.

He frowns when he sees small tears rolling down your cheeks.

No, why are you crying? He slightly starts panicking inside but tries to not show it. “Don’t cry my love.”

“I’m sorry.”  Here you go, apologizing for nothing, at last he doesn’t see a reason why your should apologize to him.

“No, don’t apologise. Non of this is your fault. I should have known better. You already told me how you’ve met Ushijima. It was my fault.”

Regret fills him up again.

Why was he so stupid?

He walked right into Ushijimas trap.

And now you were afraid of him.

He wasn’t good for you.

He wasn’t the right one for you.

The life he lives wasn’t one for you.

He had to get you out of this whole mess, you deserve so much better than this.

Even if that means, for him to leave your life completely.

He leans in for one last kiss.

“No. Don’t say anything. I promise you, you will never see me like this again. I can’t bear knowing that you’re afraid of me, even if it’s only a tiny little bit of you fearing me.” He mumbles before kissing you again. “Now please, get inside. And I hope to find you in one of my sweatshirts when I get back home.”

He hated lying to you.

But he had to.

“Okay, I can’t promise not to take your Vetements one tough.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Whatever I own is yours.”

My heart, my home, my car, my everything, he’ll make sure that you are save when he wasn’t with you anymore.

His cheerful smile dropped the second you were out of sight, he speeds through the city, not caring about the red lights or the other cars.

Monday 3 pm

“Sorry the Boss isn’t here right now.” One for the guards says.

Bokuto rolls his eyes and walks around in the empty office.

“What are you-“ the guard begins, “ I write him a note.” Bokuto huffs and scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Make sure to keep Y/n save.”

He storms out of the building.

The Adlers really think they could simply tick him and the others? By putting Y/n in his life to spy on them? Are they really that desperate to involve such an innocent and pure soul as you into all of this?

The hate he felt for them just increased the more time he got to spent with you. Your pure soul lightens up his day, he smiles whenever he looks at you, his heart warms whenever he sees your smile, when he hears your laugh it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard. All those days he got to spent with you for now, have been the best days of his life.

And how can such a beautiful person like you, work in such a dark world.

This isn’t a world that’s meant for you.

Sure he knows that you’re strong... but he isn’t stupid.

He can see that all of this is just a mask, you got used to this life, but it is not the life you wanted to be involved in. All your sarcasm, the cold look in your eyes, the raised eyebrow with that light smirk playing on you lips, whenever someone is saying something that could definitely get them into jail.

It is all an act.

And he knows that you know that he can see right through it.

Those nights he spent awake next to you, making sure to reassuring you that everything is alright and that he is right next to you, trying to keep all those nightmares away from you. He sees how you turn in your sleep, how your face frowns, he hears all those small no’s. And it breaks his heart whenever he feels your hands grabbing his shirt, clinging on him, burring your face in his chest while you whimper something only you can understand, your whole body shaking out of fear of whatever hunts you in your dreams.

Sure, you play tough, but he knows that deep inside your heart you want to leave all of this behind.

Enough was enough and he certainly had enough.

He takes his phone and type three small words before getting out of his car.

Opening up the trunk he pulled off the flooring revealing countless of guns and knifes.

It was a true old fashioned kamikaze mission, but he didn’t care.

Putting two of the small guns in the back of his pants, he grabs the loaded submachine gun in one hand, takes a deep breath and opens the door.

I’ll get you out of all of this, you’ll be able to live a normal life again, with or without me.

And he pulls the trigger, shooting the first guard.

Your POV

You stand in front of the big window, looking down at the passing people and cars, always looking out for one specific black one, but you couldn’t spot it. The longer you wait, the more restless you get, Bokuto was away for way too long now, he would have told you if it would take longer right?

So why haven’t he come back home now.

Your phone vibrates, before you could check it, you hear the door burst open.

“BOKUTO?!” You can hear Atsumu call out.

“Atsumu?” You walk over to him.

“Where is he?” The person next to him, Sakura asks.

“I was about to ask you the same thing, he dropped me off and told me he has something to do... but that was hours ago...” you mumble the next part, “ You... you don’t know where he is?”

“Does it look like we do?! The Boss is sending all of us out to find him!” Atsumu growls.

“Tell us everything that happened today.” Sakusa demands and you begin talking, describing the whole situation that happened with Ushijima and how Bokuto behaved slightly strange the way back to his.

The three of you stare at each other after you’ve finished and your attentions shifts to the TV.

“BREAKING NEWS - Countless of shots have been heard from the Casino, related to the infamous Adlers, we’re live - Cassie, what do you know?

‘ We all know nothing, civilians could all leave, all of them are talking about only one men, entering the building. The police is still clueless, but a few minutes ago, the shooting stopped and -“

“FUCK!” Atsumu screams and he and Sakusa run out of the door, “YOU STAY HERE!” He shouts before pulling out his phone already calling someone.

No. No. No no no. This can’t be real.

Your mind is racing while you collect your things and rush out of the apartment.

If there is one small chance that Bokuto is still alive, you have to take it, you had to save him at all costs. Even if it means breaking his heart and revealing everything... you just have to everything you can.

Looking down at your phone, you remember the message you got.

From: Bokuto

Please remember that I will always love you.

@tendouthighs ,  @lilacshouko​@softhourswithseb​ ​@theperksofcoffee ​@cuddlesslut @shhhlikeme​​, @kynyta​​ @yammmers​  @asahi-is-jesus-periodt​​ @hxnni-bxnni​​ @theduvetpirate​​ @chromaticstudio​​@gywjd0131​​​ @haikyuusimp91​​​ @kara-grayson04 @saucysamu​​ @brokeyiam​ ​

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Say yes. (George Weasley x reader)

Description: George Weasley had asked you to marry him exactly 465 times since he and you started dating in your fifth year. He’d said it half-jokingly at first, then because you kept turning him down with a smirk as you insisted “someday, but not yet.” and then it had evolved to be a way of saying “I love you” and you’d established that it wasn’t the real one yet as long as you were in school, and that when he finally decided to ask you for real, you’d know: Champagne, fireworks and other romantic gestures were promised but when George loses his ear he decides to spend that final proposal a little differently than initially planned. 

requested: nope 

warnings: descriptions of blood, injuries, a little angst but mostly fluff. 

word count: 3.7K 

taglist: @schlongbottom​ @cardboardbenmazzello​ @unseensilver​ @mochamiilk​ 

(gif isn’t mine) 

“Marry me?” 

“Oh, Merlin,” you facepalm, “It’s too early for this, George,” 

“Come on!” he persists, 

“You always ask me and the answer’s always going to be the same!” you’ve taken on an irritated tone but you’re grinning at him from across the breakfast table, 

“But I don’t know that! What if you change your mind?” he asks and takes a bite of toast, 

“Yeah ‘cause I’m likely to decide to get married in the middle of my sixth year, am I?” you steal the other piece of toast from his plate and bite into it. He lets you, 

“Maybe? It could be kind of romantic: eloping and doing it in secret?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you earning a playful eye roll from you, 

“No way. Your mother would murder you if she found out you’d eloped at sixteen, and I’m pretty sure my mum would be standing in line to get to me next,” you chuckle.

George Weasley had developed a habit of asking you to marry him since you first started dating. He’d first asked you when you were fifteen in Hogsmeade. You, in turn, had choked on your butterbeer and spluttered a panicked: 

“WHAT?!” 

George had laughed and answered: “You heard me,” and you hadn’t had the faintest idea if your relatively new boyfriend was being serious at all. He’d later admitted that no, he didn’t really think marrying you at the tender age of fifteen was a good idea but in his defence:

“I can still ask you now, and then wait to actually marry you!” 

Which was true, but you sort of took the whole marriage thing seriously and so you’d developed a term for The Real One as an understanding that all his questions were not serious proposals and moreso a replacement for “I love you” or another set of endearing words, and that he’d let you know if he did ask The Real One. As the years pass by you’d become used to proposals being randomly thrown at you from the redhead you adored so much. In fact, you’d kept a tally and noted the most noteworthy ones in a small notebook: 

#26 George asked me to marry him on a trip to the beach with my family and immediately got hit by a giant wave, suffice to say, I agreed to do it on the condition that he didn’t drown himself in an attempt to impress me.

#168 George learned yesterday that asking me to marry him while I’m hungover with my head in a toilet results in whatever I can grab nearest to me being tossed at him, possibly accompanied by a certain finger being presented to him. 

#340 George successfully asked me to marry him during a quidditch match and because of his dashing looks and undeniable charm, not to mention his impressive sportsmanship and talent in the sheets, I said yes!

#341 George needs to learn that if he steals my notebook and forges me saying yes then I’ll never marry the git. ---> Oi, you promised not to say no :( - G Get over it, liar >:/ - Y/n

Now, at age 20, George had asked you a whopping 416 times to marry him, and you had yet to accept nor decline any of those proposals: you couldn’t say yes, because it wasn’t T.R.O (as you’d named it) and you couldn’t get yourself to say no because truth be told: you did want to marry him. A lot. But you figured it was better to wait, you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so you’d let yourself be amused by your boyfriend’s antics for years, though now as you grew older, there was an air of anticipation behind each time he asked, not to mention that he’d stopped asking you as frequently. He liked throwing you off by asking you unexpectedly, 

“You know, if you’re gonna ask me, for real that is,” You ask one night while your head is resting on his chest. You’re in his bed above the shop, the light from the moon illuminating your shapes, 

“Yeah?” his chest vibrates when he speaks and you can’t stop the small, content smile that forms on your lips, 

“Just so you know, I want a ring-” he cuts you off with a soft laugh, 

“- and champagne! lots of it! no ring pops or asking me while we’re in the ocean; I want it to feel real,” 

“Got it,” he chuckles, your head bobbing with his chest as it rises and falls, “anything else I can do for you, madam?”

“...Fireworks would be appreciated too, please.” 

“Noted,” there’s a moment of domestic, blissful silence, “Y/n?” 

“mhm?” 

“I love you,” 

“I love you too.” 

You don’t discuss the proposal anymore for the time being. Things at the order pick up its pace as Harry’s seventeenth birthday approaches and suddenly, 

“What’s going on?” You’re standing in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face as the two identical young men hurriedly come into the apartment and disappear into their respective bedrooms where you follow George to see him change out of his work suit and into a different, purple one at a fast pace, 

“Something’s come up with the order, we have to leave tonight,” Fred’s voice explains from his room, you give George a questioning look, he doesn’t meet your eyes,

“I’m also in the order, why wasn’t I told about this?” you ask, as George passes by you into the living room, his eyes fixated on his buttons on his sleeves. In your chest, your heartbeat anxiously speeds up while you wish George would just slow down for once and explain what is going on, though you know that slowing down isn’t exactly the twins’ expertise, 

“You know Moody; always so secretive. He probably figured that telling everyone in the order the details would lead to the info leaking or something, don’t worry about it, love,” George flashes a quick reassuring smile at you but you’re already worried about it. In fact, you feel nothing but anxious about this whole situation. 

“But what am I supposed to do? just sit here and wait while you go on some secret mission I know nothing about?” you ask while the twins find coats and begin putting them on. Finally, George faces you and quickly approaches you but you’re not calmed by this. A small flicker of anger ignites inside you as you realise that your boyfriend clearly doesn’t take this as seriously as you do, and then again why would he? he knows what’s happening you think to yourself. George gently cups your face in his hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead, 

“It’s all going to be fine, I promise,” he says, caressing your cheeks, “tell you what: apparate to the burrow and I’ll meet you there, we’re supposed to go there anyway, alright?”

No, it’s not alright, what part of this is alright?!

“Yeah, alright then,” you say in defeat. 

“That’s my girl!” George says and presses his lips to your forehead once more before walking over to his brother, 

“Ready, Fred?” He says and Fred nods at him, 

“Ready, George,” Fred replies with a grin, 

“I’ll see you at the burrow, ok?” George turns to you and when you don’t reply with more than a solemn look, he adds, “Don’t worry.” 

And then he’s gone. And you stand in the empty apartment, trying to process everything that just happened in the past ten minutes. Then you apparate to the burrow, landing outside the building. Molly must’ve seen you because the door opens before you’ve even reached the house and you’re more than happy to see her. You let yourself be swept into her embrace as she greets you with the same motherly fashion as she always did, 

“I hope it’s not a problem. George sent me here,” you say as you tread inside, Molly closes the door behind you, 

“Not at all, dear, I expected he would,” she says with a smile, “I was just about to make some tea, it always calms me on nights like these,” she says, already heading toward the kitchen, 

“What do you mean?” You ask, your nerves beginning to gnaw at your insides again, 

“Haven’t the boys told you anything?” Molly asks from the stove, you stand in the doorframe and shake your head, “something about the order and Moody but besides that, not much else,” you say, 

“Just typical,” Molly tuts, “Oh well, I suppose there’s no reason not to tell you now,” she say and begins explaining the plan of moving Harry to the burrow, of disguising members of the order to look like Harry, the risks of the plan she doesn’t leave out and you don’t feel any better knowing that there’s a real danger of the plan going wrong. 

Time passes. Ginny joins you in waiting, you small talk for a little but soon find yourselves too anxious to say anything other than worrying out loud if the order will arrive soon. 

After an hour and a half, you’re pacing the living room, unable to sit still. According to Molly, they were supposed to have started showing up some forty minutes ago but when you look out over the dark landscape surrounding the burrow there’s nothing but softly swaying grass and a vast cloudy sky. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom though you don’t do anything other than stare at yourself in the mirror and try to calm yourself down. But you can’t stop thinking about the worst-case scenarios: George coming home hurt, or worse, not coming home at all. You splash water in your face in an attempt to drown out the voice of George telling you not to worry in your head. The words have been echoing in your head since you arrived at the burrow, and each time you find yourself trying to cling to the sound of his voice, remember exactly how it sounded, how his fingers felt on your face as he caressed it, the feeling on his lips on your forehead right before he left, you try to feel the warmth they’d left just in case- 

“I think I see someone!” Ginny says and by the sound of the door being flung open you exit the bathroom and follow her and Molly out into the night where one giant figure and one smaller one appear from the tall grass, who you immediately recognise as Harry and Hagrid, both of whom are soaked and clearly shaken up, 

“Where are the others?” Harry asks while Hagrid explains to Molly how they hadn’t stood a chance, the death eaters had been awaiting them, 

“You’re the first ones back,” Ginny says with a grim expression, she doesn’t get any further though, as the unmistakable pop of apparition brings your attention further down the field, 

“Quick!” you hear Lupin yell and when you see the bleeding person he’s carrying you speed up to meet them, Harry beats you to it though, which is good, because when the polyjuice potion wears off and George’s features become clearer you feel as if all the air has been punched out of you, your knees buckling under you for a moment in shock, before you hurriedly follow them inside the house, where Lupin and Harry lay George on the couch. You and Molly sit down beside him and while Lupin grabs Harry and questions him you don’t tear your eyes away from George. You can’t. 

“Hi there, darling,” he croaks, his eyes half-open. You place your hand on his chest and wince when you find it’s sticky with blood, 

“Hey there,” you say, your voice unsteady. You try not to look at the blood that’s trailing from his ear but against George’s pale skin, it’s difficult not to. You bunch up his shirt in your hand as you try to steady yourself. You feel sick, and it doesn’t take long for tears to find your eyes. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, “it’s okay, Y/n,” his hand finds your cheek, as the first tear of many trickles down your face and you struggle to keep composed. You clench your jaw trying not to sob but you still let out a small broken one escape through your lips as you breathe out, as you place your hand on his, squeezing it tightly, you’re afraid. Afraid of him letting go. His eyes close and another sob burst through you. You only look up when you feel a hand on your back, and you find Fred’s concerned face, his hand moves to your shoulder, he gives it a quick squeeze, 

“How’re you feeling, Georgie?” he asks, George swallows and for a moment you hold your breath, thinking he’s unconscious, but then his eyes open, just a little, 

“Saint-like,” he says, to your surprise, a small smirk tugs at his mouth, you and Fred share a look, 

“Come again?” Fred asks, looking pale with worry, the smile on George’s lips broadens, 

“Saint-like,” he says, “I’m holey, Fred, I’m holey. Get it?” Georges’s hand leaves yours to gesture to his ear, 

Fred’s cheeks gain a little colour as he shakes his head, 

“Of all ear-related humour, you go for ‘I’m holey’? that’s pathetic,” Fred says, his smile mirroring his twin. 

After a few moments Molly disappears to find some things to help mend George’s ear, and the order agrees to give him some privacy by moving into the kitchen, leaving you alone with the twins, Fred gets comfortable next to the couch, and you stay put, stroking George’s hair with a still-shaky hand. 

“Don’t worry,” George says, 

“You do realise that saying that over and over isn’t going to work, right?” You answer, brushing tufts of ginger hair away from his forehead, 

“worth a try,” he replies, closing his eyes again a pained expression forming on his face and you know that he’ll most likely pull through but you can’t seem to let go of the ‘what if?’ resting in the back of your mind. Molly reappears with a bag of various remedies and ingredients, she picks out a sample of bottles, and then goes to find a cloth and some water, 

“I would use magic,” She says, “but I think this is easier to control,” she wrings the cloth and both you and Fred eye it nervously, 

“You gonna be ok?” You ask George when he opens his eyes at the sound of the water from the cloth dripping into the bowl beneath it. He swallows hard, 

“Yeah, I think so,” he says, “It’s a bit of water, how bad could it be?” you try giving him an encouraging smile but you know that beneath it all you’re both aware that this isn’t going to be pleasant, 

Molly gingerly touches the cloth to George’s ear and he winces, letting out a sharp hiss and his hold on your hand tightens, reminding you that your boyfriend, the former beater, is a lot stronger than you but you don’t ask him to let go, or say anything at all, your lips form a thin line as you watch him grimace and whimper with every stroke of the cloth against the cut. Molly apologies profusely and promises that she’s doing it as fast as she can, her eyes lined with tears as well. Fred grows pale when Molly wrings the cloth again, turning the water a bright vermillion and excuses himself, 

the cut looks better after it’s rinsed and Molly gently applies some of the remedies she’s picked out, before asking your help in holding George, who’s close to unconscious again, while she bandages him, 

“It’s not much,” she says in a shaky voice, “but it’ll do till tomorrow,” 

“Do you think it’ll heal?” you ask, your voice is grainy and you now realise how dry your mouth is. Molly runs a hand over her son’s forehead, 

“you can never know with dark magic, if it was cursed off we can’t know if there’ll be side effects,” she says, “we’ll just have to wait,” she sighs, watching George with glossy eyes. Then she picks up the water and turns to go, 

“I’ll go clean up,” she says with a sniffle, leaving you alone in the living room with George. He looks a lot less frightening without the blood covering his neck and face, and with the bandage covering the ear, he looks almost normal, though he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. You overhear Fred talk to Molly, who orders him to go upstairs and rest, you reckon he’s not doing well either, after a lot of arguing from Fred he complies. Molly comes in with a tearstained face and some blankets. Together you rearrange pillows and blankets, so you can lay next to George on the floor, 

“We’ll have to leave the clothes on until tomorrow, as much as I’d like to change them,” Molly says, eyeing the bloody stains on the jacket and t-shirt he’s wearing, “oh well,” she says, “I think it’s best if we all get some sleep. You’ll be alright here, dear?” she asks, 

“Yes, I think so,” you say, not sure you’ll be getting much sleep. You try to get comfortable next to George, holding his hand and laying down, staring at the ceiling. You quickly accept that sleep isn’t coming to you, and you sit up again, resting your head on your arm so that you’re almost laying next to George. It’s easier to relax when you can see him. See his chest rise and fall slowly. Hear his breathing. Feel it. Warm and soft, reminding you that he’s still here. Your eyes grow heavy and you’re nearly asleep when, 

“Y/n?” your eyes open at the sound of his voice, you blink at him. His eyes are staring intently at you in the dim light, 

“What?” you ask, 

“Can I ask you something?”

you sit up, 

“It’s just,” he begins, taking breaks in between his words, you wonder if anything Molly has given him has made him loopy, “I’ve been thinking about everything, and since I suppose I can say I’ve had a near death experience, it wouldn’t be right if it didn’t put some things into perspective,” he says, smiling at your puzzled expression, 

“where are you going with-” 

“will you marry me?” 

“...what?” you stare at him,

“I had a whole thing planned but I think I’d rather do it now so I’ll never have to almost lose the opportunity to ask you for real again,” he says, 

“George,” you say, awestruck “are you sure?” 

“More sure than I’ve ever been,” he says in an almost unrecognisably serious tone, his eyes locked into yours, 

You take a shaky breath, “ask me again.” 

The same cheeky grin he’d always wear when he’d ask you appears on his face and you could cry because for the first time that night he looks like himself again, 

“Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” he asks, taking both your hands in his, you don’t move to stop the warm tears that spill down your face, tasting them as you smile, nodding at him, 

“yes, George Weasley, of course I’ll marry you,” you say, diving in to kiss him gently, his hand finds your face, his thumb wiping your tears away, 

“Please don’t cry over me, Y/n,” he says, your faces still close, earning a half-sob half-chortle from you, 

“I’m your bloody fiance now, I’ll cry however much I want over you,” you say, kissing him again. 

“How many times did I ask?” he asks, 

“I think that was the 417th time,” you reply, he pouts, 

“Damn, my goal was a thousand,” he says with a smirk, “wait,” his eyes widen, “what am I supposed to ask you now?” he says. You allow yourself to laugh,

“you don’t have to ask me anything, thank you very much,” 

“...Want to renew our vows?” he tries, 

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind: I’m divorcing you,” you say, laying down beside him, 

“hey! we’re not married yet,” he says, 

“Then I’m divorcing you prematurely,” you say, “now get some sleep!” 

*** 

Bill and Fleur’s wedding was wonderfully different from the way the rest of your lives were going. The war was pressing on with more and more shops in Diagon Alley closed down for an indefinite amount of time. Everywhere you went, people seemed anxious, awaiting something unknown, a sort of resolution to all the dread. In the middle of it all, a wedding had seemed misplaced but standing in the tent behind the burrow, seeing people actually laugh, dance and enjoy themselves, you felt more at ease than you had in months. 

“Hey,” George appears next to you, handing you a glass of champagne, 

“Hi,” you say, looking at Luna dancing with her father for a moment, you turn to George, “how’s the ear?” you ask, George didn’t talk about it much, insisting it was fine which didn’t stop you and Molly from fussing over him still, 

“It’s okay,” He says, “If I’m honest, I hardly notice it anymore. Now I just want the bandages off,” he chuckles. You stand together, watching the crowd for a moment, 

“Can I show you something?” he asks after sipping his drink, 

“Right now?” your eyebrow lifts, 

“Right now. Come on,” he nods towards the exit of the tent, extending his hand for you to take, 

*

“What are we doing in your room?” you ask, a little winded the alcohol and from climbing the stairs, 

“Sit down,” he gestures to his bed and heads to his dresser, rummaging through the third drawer down, “Where is it, I could’ve sworn- Oh! here it is!” he picks up a small object. He turns to you with a grin, “Now, I know that The Real One didn’t exactly go as planned, but I did have a whole thing planned, so,” he walks over to you and kneels down, opening the small object to reveal a stunning engagement ring, “I figured I owe you this,” he says, 

“you got me a ring?” you say a little breathlessly, feeling ridicoulus when tears rim your eyes for what feels like the millionth time since George lost his ear, 

“bought it with my first salary from the shop,” he replies with a sheepish smirk, “do you like it?” 

“I love it, George,” you say, “really, it’s beautiful,” 

“Want me to put it on you?” 

“Duh!” you laugh,

George slips the ring onto your finger with ease and presses a kiss to your hand, then places soft kisses up your arm to your shoulder, your neck and finally your lips, his tongue swiping across your lips, deepening the kiss for a moment before you both break away with breathless laughter. He rests his forehead on yours, taking your hands in his, looking at the light shifting in the jewels in the ring, 

“About bloody time we made it official, too,” he says with a sense of content finality, his hand cups your cheek, kissing you again, this time hungrier and you let him lower you onto his bed to celebrate your final engagement properly. 

[sithmyass]

Virgin - Obi Wan Kenobi

Requested- Yes, in a way? By the beautiful @sarcastic-bubble ❤️

Warnings: Smut (18+), this is basically pwp.. Some cloak kink.. dom obi..

—

“Y/N, this is absolutely childish.” Obi wan says, avoiding the question completely. “You picked truth, you’ve gotta be honest with me!” You tease, loving how uncomfortable Obi looks. “C’mon! It’s for science!” He cocks his brow at your words. “Science, huh? Do you mind telling me which experiment you’re doing that requires me to tell you whether or not i’m a virgin?” You burst out laughing at his words, clutching your chest. “It’s called the ‘i’m curious’ experiment.” You manage through your unstoppable chuckles.

“No, I am not.” He answers, and your face lights up in shock. “Master Kenobi!” You tease, “I find that quite hard to believe.” He crosses his arms defensively over his chest. “And why’s that?” Your face immediately turns red from the lack of air. “No offense, General.. but you’re exactly that! A General and a Jedi! There’s a strict code for you to follow, and excuse me for being so blunt, but you’re just so...” You ramble, all while giving Obi Wan the motivation to prove you wrong. He moves closer to you, placing his hand gently on your thigh.

“So what, Princess?” He asks, just above a whisper, making all your confidence fly out the window. “Uh..y-you.. you’re..” You stutter, hyper aware of the circles he was now tracing into the flesh of your thigh. “Mhm?” He hums, letting his fingers trail higher up your leg. “Vanilla.” You manage, swallowing hard as he lets his fingers ghost over your hips. “That’s the impression i’ve made on you?” He says slyly, letting out a deep chuckle. “I’m gonna have to fix that, yeah?”

He moves away, back into his seat across from you, leaving you longing for his touch. “Truth or Dare, Princess?” He asks nonchalantly, keeping intense eye contact. “Uh.. truth?” You reply, more like a question. “Alright.. tell me what’s on your mind right now.” You cough slightly, your mind still reeling from his touch. “Nothing but the truth, Princess.” He teases, leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs. You let out a deep breath, knowing exactly what you were about to get yourself into if you spoke what was truly on your mind.

“You.” You say just above a whisper. “Elaborate for me, Princess.” “Your touch, how it sent shivers down my spine..” You begin confidently, watching as his lips press into a smirk. “A-and how your words went straight to my core..” You confess, looking down at your hands. He chuckles darkly, moving to kneel before you. “What kind of man would I be if I were to leave you in such a position?” He asks gently, but the words were more sinister than his voice allowed. “Stand up for me, and go sit on your bed.” He commands, helping you up from your spot in the living area of your quarters.

He ushers you towards your bed, having you sit gently on the edge. He stands before you, his hands on his hips. “What do you want, Princess?” He asks, looking down at you. When he gets no answer, he grabs your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me.” He whispers against your ear, biting the lobe gently. “I-I want you.” He moves so that his face is right in front of yours, a sweet, toothy smile gracing his face. “All you had to do was ask, Darling.” He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear before pulling your lips to his, devouring and dominating your lips.

He leans you back against the bed gently, his hand at the small of your back to lead you. You break this kiss quick, looking into his eyes for a moment. “Are you sure you-“ He cuts you off with a more passionate kiss, before standing up off the bed. “I’m sure.” He reinforces, before letting his cloak fall to the ground, leaving him in just his robes. You swear you could have came right then and there at the sight, but instead you just let a small moan escape you. “You like the cloak?” He teases, before moving to hover over you. “I’ll remember that.” He smirks, before enveloping your lips in another passionate kiss.

He fumbles around with your robes blindly, refusing to break your kiss. Eventually he gets frustrated, and breaks it anyways to look in your eyes. “Do you trust me, Princess?” He asks, to which you nod quickly. “Hold incredibly still, Darling.” He takes his saber from his side, using it to carefully slice through your robes. If you weren’t wet before, you sure as Maker were now. As he hooks his saber back at his side, he uses his strong grip to tear the rest of the fabric from your body, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

He moves to pull his top off, leaving him shirtless for your viewing pleasure. He leans forward gently, pressing soft kisses to your neck, before nibbling softly on the sensitive skin of your collar. “Obi..” You whine, before he rips your bra from your chest. He sucks a few bruises into the supple flesh of your breasts, before kissing his way down your body. He wastes no time removing your panties from your body, and lets out a low snicker. “You’re so wet, Princess..” He comments, running his fingers through your slit, gathering some of your juices. He sucks his fingers into his mouth, making you shudder.

“Sweetest thing I’ve tasted..” He looks at your core as if it’s his last meal, and doesn’t hesitate to lean down and devour you. The feeling of his tongue circling your clit and his beard rubbing against your skin sent you straight to heaven. “Fuck..” You moan, arching you back up off the mattress. You tangle your fingers in his sandy hair, tugging him impossibly closer to your core. He chuckle against you, sending vibrations through your whole body. You begin to wonder how he got so good at this, before he slips his tongue into your entrance. You grind yourself against his face, moaning his name wildly.

As you begin to near the edge, your legs begin to shake uncontrollably. Suddenly, you were unable to move them, so you looked down at Obi wan, and he was already looking up at you. He licks a long strip up your slit before biting his lip. “It’s the force, Princess, relax.” He says calmingly before slipping two fingers immediately into your greedy hole. He gets immense pleasure from watching your face contort with his actions. He sucks harshly on your clit as he moves his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, making you babble incoherently above him.

Soon enough you were seeing white, as he tongue fucked you through your orgasm gently. He notices how visibly sensitive you get to his touch once he’s licked you clean, and he smirks up at you. “I’m not finished with you, Princess.” He teases before slipping his fingers back inside, earning a mewl from your lips. He thrusts his fingers quickly, once in a while sucking on your sensitive nub, wanting to get one more orgasm out of you before he even considered fucking you. “C’mon darling, you’re almost there..” He praises sweetly, a complete contrast to the rough pace he’s set with his fingers. “So close..” He muses, feeling you tighten around his fingers again before releasing on them.

He collects your slick on his fingers again, before shoving them into his mouth, not letting a drop go to waste. He licks and sucks a trail from your core back up to your lips, biting on your bottom lip teasingly. You moan at the taste of yourself, pulling his face closer to you by his cheeks. He pulls away from you again, much to your dismay. He stands at the end of the bed, pulling off his pants and undergarments before leaning down to pick the cloak up. You cock your eyebrow at him in confusion.

“You liked the cloak.” He shrugs before crawling back over your body, moving his face dangerously close to yours. “I believe this whole situation started because you said I was ‘Vanilla,’ correct?” He asks, running his knuckles down your jawbone. You smirk at him and nod. “I’m sticking to it.” He tsks at you before murmuring against your skin. “Hm?” You ask, watching him move off of you again. “Hands and knees, Princess.” He orders, watching your face turn a deep red before complying with his command.

He gets on his knees behind you, before running his hand from the top of your spine, down to the curve of your ass before landing a harsh smack against your skin. You bite your lip and let out a high pitched moan, which pleases Obi wan. “So responsive..” He muses, before lining himself up with your core and pushing in gently. You hiss at the stretch, he was surely the largest man you’ve ever been with. “Ready, Princess?” He asks sweetly, beginning to thrust in and out slowly once you nod.

He wraps one hand around your hip, giving himself leverage as he begins to quicken his pace. “You look ravishing like this, Princess.” He compliments, giving you the confidence to push back, meeting his thrusts half way. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with Obi wans quick breaths and your moans. He leans forward to trail kisses up your spine, allowing you to fuck yourself on his cock at your own pace. He straightens out, taking the liberty to watch your hips slap back against his.

After a moment he grabs your hips again, and quickens his pace. “Fuck.. Obi!” You nearly scream, allowing your face to fall against the mattress. Still sensitive from the two previous orgasms, you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten for the third time tonight. “Obi.. I..” You moan, and he acknowledges you by speeding up more, his tip brushing against that glorious spot inside you. “Cum on my cock, Princess.” He whispers, coaxing you through your release. He pulls out once you finish, flipping you onto your back.

He comes to straddle your chest, tapping the tip of his cock against your lips. You open your mouth happily, allowing him to slide his way down your throat. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head as you take him, allowing your soft hands to wrap around what your mouth couldn’t fit. He pulls your hair back into a makeshift pony as you bob your head, his hips stuttering with each passing moment. “Princess.. I..” He moans, allowing himself to release his seed into your mouth. You swallow it all, licking your lips as to let none go to waste. He collapses down on the bed next to you, pulling your head to lay against his chest.

“How was that, Y/N?” He asks, still breathing heavily as he looks down at you, running his fingers through your hair. “It was okay, for a virgin.” You tease, looking up at him slyly. “Princess, we literally just finished having sex. There’s no way i’m a virgin after that.” He chuckles, placing a soft kiss against your forehead.

[escapewithbts]

Wedding Date - Seokjin

--------------------------

"I still can't believe I agreed to do this," your best friend Kim Seokjin said from the bedroom next to you.

You chuckled as you carefully applied your second layer of mascara in the bathroom mirror.

"Mmmm have I told you how much I loooove you, Seokjinnie?" you cooed, popping your head out from the doorway to flash him a big smile.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes but smiled.

 "I'm going to need to hear it way more, you know! You owe me big time!"

He turned his body toward you as he pulled his navy blue suit jacket on over top his crisp white button down shirt.

 "So how do I look?" he asked, putting his long fingers out in a heart shape accompanied by a sexy stare.

 "Classic Worldwide Handsome," you replied.

He gave you a wink.

 "Yah! That is what they call me!"

You laughed and looked back in the mirror.

 "Seriously though, Jin, you look really, really good."

You were glad you had turned back to the mirror so he couldn't see your cheeks turn red. The sight of him in a perfectly fitting suit with his dark hair pushed back from his eyes and forehead which showed his beautifully structured face made your heart flutter.

 "Thanks, y/n. I've gotta look good if I'm going to be your pretend boyfriend, you know?"

You shuffled nervously, wondering if this was a good idea after all.

He poked his head around the doorway to look at you.

 "How much longer until you're ready?"

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

 "Umm probably about 10 more minutes. Just have to finish my make up and put my dress on."

Jin nodded.

 "Okay. I'll be in the living room when you're ready."

You sighed and made your way to your closet after you were finished with your make up. You stared at the dresses before you and wondered if it was too late to back out.

 One of your friends from high school was getting married, and after hearing that almost all your other friends from back then were bringing plus ones, the stress of not having one got to you. So you reluctantly asked your best friend Jin, figuring he would say no, or that he had a full schedule that day. He was in one of the world's most popular boy bands after all. But, to your surprise, he was free this day and he said yes with almost no hesitation. It made you smile, how kind he was. He was a great friend.

In fact, it was small gestures like this that made you finally realize your true feelings for him. He was a wonderful person, and the two of you always had a great time laughing with each other. You would never tell him how you truly felt about him though, as you were afraid it would ruin your friendship. Plus, you were pretty sure he didn't feel the same way considering how many girls he has to choose from. Why would he choose you? It hurt your heart, but it was worth it to keep him in your life.

Eventually you chose a long, pink and floral dress made of chiffon, with fluttering short sleeves. Perfect for the Spring time. It had bits of blue in it, too, so it matched Jin's outfit well. You slipped on some nude sandals with heels and grabbed a clutch purse from the top shelf.

  You took one last look at yourself in the full length mirror and actually smiled. Your hair fell nicely around your shoulders and your make up was done but still showed your natural face nicely. You felt confident and ready.

 "Ok, sorry, I'm ready," you said, walking into the living room to find Jin sitting on the couch looking at his phone.

He stood up and put his phone in the pocket of his pants. When he finally looked at you his jaw dropped.

 "Whoa..." he mumbled.

It made you intensely blush and your heart speed up.

He shook himself out of his trance and got a big grin on his face. Suddenly he started humming the chorus to his band BTS' song "Like" and snapping his fingers while stepping towards you.

 "Ohhhh pretty woman... don't wanna be fool, wanna be cool, wanna be loved, 너와의, same looove... Baby I want it"

You pushed him away by his chest, trying to play off how embarrassed and flustered you were. He laughed at himself while you rolled your eyes.

 "Oh my god, let's just go, Jinnie."

*

You arrived at the venue just as the ceremony was starting, so you didn't have time to greet anyone. It was outside in a park next to the Han River. It was a beautiful late afternoon in mid-Spring, the sun was shining, flowers had finally made their appearance after the long winter, and the trees were covered in lush green leaves again.

The ceremony was simple, sweet and short. Once it was over everyone headed to the patio overlooking the river where the reception was going to take place. A large tent was set up for some shade, tables and chairs, a buffet line and a dance floor. Everything was covered in white flowers and elegant decorations.

 "I guess we should find out where we're sitting," you said to Jin, and he nodded in response.

He took your hand in his, which completely caught you off guard. You looked down at your interlaced fingers in shock.

 "We have to at least hold hands, (y/n), if we're meant to be convincing," Jin stated matter-of-factly.

You gulped and nodded in agreement, getting flustered from the feeling of his strong hand holding yours tightly.

The two of you walked to the table under the tent where the place card settings were, informing the guests of which table they were assigned to. While searching for your name, you heard a shriek behind you.

 "(y/n)!? Oh my god, is that you??"

You turned around to see one of your old friends, (y/f/n), coming towards you with outstretched arms.

You smiled politely and returned the hug.

 "Hi, (y/f/n), it's good to see you."

She smiled and turned towards Jin.

 "And who is this handsome man standing next to you?"

Jin stuck his hand out to shake hers.

 "I'm Kim Seokjin, (y/n)'s boyfriend." He wrapped his long arm around the back of your waist as he said that, pulling you closer to him.

 "Boyfriend? Wow, (y/n), you certainly reached out of your league, huh?" She laughed to herself.

You winced at the comment but brushed it off. Jin, however, couldn't let it go so easily.

 "She reached out of her league? No, no, I think it's quite the opposite. Look at her! She's gorgeous! And kind, and smart and funny. You're definitely wrong there."

Anyone who didn't know Jin would think the tone in his response was light-hearted, but being his best friend you could sense the annoyance and anger that was really there.

 "Did you come with anyone?" You asked, changing the subject quickly.

Her face lit up.

 "Yes! I got married last year. My husband, Park Ji-ho, is over there," she pointed to a man standing at the edge of the tent, "He's wonderful, let me get him."

She called his name and waved him over to introduce him to you.

  "Ji-ho, this is (y/n) and Seokjin. I knew her in high school."

He bowed at the two of you and shook you hands. When he looked at Jin he paused.

  "You look... familiar," he said quizzically.

You and Jin exchanged looks. You shuffled nervously.

Ji-ho's face lit up.

  "Wait, I've seen you on the walls in my little sister's room! And on the tv! Aren't you an idol? You're in a group, right?" he suddenly recalled.

Jin gave him a small smile and nodded his head.

 "Yes, 방탄소년단, or BTS."

(y/f/n) gasped.

 "That's right! I knew I recognized you, too! You're a member of BTS!" she exclaimed with wide eyes, "Wow, (y/n) really did reach out of her league."

She turned to her husband and chuckled.

Jin's grip on your hand got tighter in anger, turning his knuckles white.

 "Well, it was nice to meet you both. We're going to our table now." He said shortly, urgently pulling you away with him.

Once you were out of hearing distance from the couple Jin asked you,

 "(y/n) you were actually friends with that girl? She's awful. Who says things like that?"

You shrugged and sighed.

  "We weren't that good of friends, just in the same group. She always has had that... interesting sense of humor."

He scoffed.

 "Interesting? I'd say it's more mean than anything."

You gave him an I-told-you-so look.

  "You see now why I so desperately wanted you to come with me, Jinnie-ah? Imagine the things she would have said if I had shown up alone."

He rolled his eyes.

Just then his phone let out a loud vibration from his pocket. He glanced down at it and rejected the call.

 "So you wanna get some food? I'm starving," he asked, shoving it back in his pocket.

You chuckled.

 "Of course you are. Let's go."

The two of you ate from the buffet, chatted with the bride and groom at your table for a little bit and listened to the live band perform songs. By then the sun had set and the whole venue was lit by the soft yellow glow of string lights stretching across the tent ceiling and out to the patio.

 "So when are we going to dance, (y/n)?" Jin asked after a while with a huge grin on his face. He took the last sip of his beer.

 You raised you eyebrows and shook your head.

 "Oh no no no, I am not getting on that dance floor with you Kim Seokjin."

Jin stood up and started walking backwards towards the floor.

  "Come oonnnnn (y/n)-ah," he pleaded in his endearing whiny voice, "If you don't come with me, I'll go alone and dance like this."

He started flailing his long arms up in the air and shaking his whole body back and forth.

  "Wooooo! Weeee! Woooooooo!" he exclaimed with his motions, causing some people from a nearby table to stare and giggle.

 "Ok, ok, I'm coming, I'm coming," you laughed and rolled your eyes, "Just please don't do that."

He smiled widely at you and took you by the hand out to the dance floor.

It was an upbeat song, and the two of you swayed back and forth in front of each other to the beat. Jin also added in some classic moves, like the sprinkler and the robot. He looked ridiculous and it made you laugh. He seemed so confident and happy, which made you forget to feel embarrassed.

  "Isn't dancing part of your job description??" you yelled to him jokingly over the music.

He continued to wave his arms in the air.

  "Doesn't mean I do it well!" he responded, grabbing your hand and twirling you under it.

You threw your head back and laughed. You were finding yourself having a surprisingly good time, despite originally being nervous to come.

The song ended and then a slow one began to play.

  "Grab onto the person who makes your heart flutter, this one is for the two of you," the lead singer of the band announced.

You and Jin looked at each other shyly. He hesitated, but gave you an adorable small smile. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you looked at the ground awkwardly. Jin didn't notice, he just stepped toward you and put one hand on your waist and the other in yours.

  You moved back and forth together, staring into his dark brown eyes and handsome face. It made you sad almost, how strong your feelings truly were and the fact that you knew he would never be yours. But you quickly pushed those thoughts out of your mind and told yourself to focus on the present.

 "I really do appreciate you coming with me today, Jinnie." you said softly, "You're a really great friend."

He blinked slowly at you in adoration.

  "Of course, you know I'd do anything for you, (y/n)-ah."

Suddenly his phone started vibrating again. He let go of your hand to remove it from his pocket and again hit the reject button. Then he scrolled through a few things.

  "Is everything okay?" you asked curiously.

Jin looked up from the phone at you.

 "Yes, I'm sorry, I'm going to turn it off."

You shook your head in protest.

  "No, don't do that. What if the members need you?" you paused, "Wait, is that who's calling you?"

Jin looked down and scratched the back of his head.

  "Jin, you can answer the phone it if it's important, it's okay." you reassured him.

He shook his head.

  "It's not... really that important, it's fine."

He doesn't look at you, which means you can tell he's lying.

You grabbed his arm gently.

  "Jin..."

He finally looks at you and squeezes his eyes shut in shame.

  "Aiishhh, we were supposed to go over some choreography changes and they want to Facetime me so I can see."

  "Seokjin!" You exclaimed.

Couples around you glared at your sudden loudness.

You dragged Jin off the dance floor and sat him back at the table.

  "You told me you didn't have any work to do today!"

He buried his face in his hands.

  "I know, I know, but skipping one practice will be okay... I think."

You shook your head in disbelief.

  "Oh my gosh, I wouldn't have asked you or let you come if I had known! Why Jin-ah, why did you come with me when you had work?"

You studied his embarrassed red face. He looked nervous.

 "I-I don't know... I guess I just wanted to be there for you."

Your stomach twisted at those words, but you ignored it.

Instead you sighed and looked down at your hands.

  "Well they clearly need you there. So let's get you to them."

You stood up. Jin did too but he grabbed your wrist.

  "We don't have to go, I'm having fun. Let me just call them back really quick. It will be fast, I promise."

  "You sure? I don't want you getting in trouble or the other members getting upset with you..." you worried.

Jin smiled reassuringly.

 "I'm sure. I'll be right back."

And with that he pulled out his phone and walked out of the tent towards the illuminated patio.

You sighed again and slumped back in your chair, twirling the stem of your wine glass between your fingers. You couldn't believe Jin would skip a dance practice to be your date to a stupid wedding. You felt horrible for asking. Why would he do that anyway? The other 6 members were his everything. His job was his everything. His love for entertaining was his everything. As far as you knew, all these things meant so much more to him than being your date to a wedding you didn't even really want to come to.

  "Excuse me, young lady," an old woman with glasses and white hair had come up to your table, interrupting your thoughts, "I just wanted to say what a beautiful couple the two of you make."

She gestured towards where Jin had retreated to make his call.

You felt your face get hot and you chuckled lightly.

  "Oh... well thank you."

She continued,

  "You can tell how in love with you he is just by the way he looks at you."

Your heart thumped in your chest and you put your hands up in protest.

 "Oh, no, no, I don't quite think he feels-"

She interrupted you.

  "Honey, I've been married 54 years... I know a thing or two about being in love. You looked very happy out there, and so did he, especially when he made you laugh. Keep him close, dear, he's a special one. And he obviously adores you."

Before you could protest again, she smiled and gave you a wink before walking away.

She could tell by the way he looked at you? You chuckled to yourself. Clearly she needed a new glasses prescription. You shook her comments off and exited the tent to find Jin before she could come back and fill your head with more wishful thoughts.

You found him alone leaning over the railing, looking out across the river, the city lights of Seoul visible in the distance. You walked up to him and crossed your arms on the railing next to him.

  "Hey." you said, noticing he was no longer on the phone.

He turned from the river view and looked at you. The string lights gave his pale face a warm tanned glow. He looked almost angelic.

  "Hey."

You stared back at the river and fiddled with your hands.

  "How were the members?"

He shrugged.

  "They're good. They just wanted to make sure I was okay with the changes. I told them I am and promised I'd be there with them tomorrow."

  "And they weren't upset with your absence?" you questioned.

He shook his head.

  "Not at all, they understand."

You smiled.

   "Well that's good. They're really great people. You're lucky."

Jin hummed in agreement.

There was a pause when you suddenly realized how chilly it had gotten. Outside the tent and adjacent to the river felt a good 10 degrees colder. You shivered and rubbed your arms.

  "You're cold? Here."

Jin removed his suit jacket and placed it gently around your shoulders. It was warm and smelled like him; an instant comfort.

  "Wow, classic move giving me your jacket," you teased, nudging your shoulder against his, "you're such a gentleman."

He shrugged and chuckled, showing his perfect teeth and adorable eye wrinkles.

  "I try my best."

You looped your arm in his tightly and rested your head on his upper arm.

  "Mmm you're a great pretend boyfriend, Jinnie."

You sighed in content and looked out over the water again, the moon reflecting on it's surface, a cool spring breeze blowing across your face.

  "What if... we didn't pretend?" he suddenly whispered softly.

You felt your heart stop. Had you misheard him?

You took your arm out from his and turned to face him. He was studying your face intensely. His was serious, a rare sight.

 "What?" you managed to squeak out.

He shifted his body so it faced yours. There was hope and determination in his eyes. But also fear. You could feel your heart beat in your ears.

  "I-I," he shut his eyes in hesitation, "I have feelings for you, (y/n). I have for a long time now. I didn't know how to tell you, or if you even felt the same way. You're always referring to me as your friend so I was afraid to tell you... and I didn't, I don't want to ruin our friendship. You are so important to me and I guess somehow I was hoping coming with you here tonight would make you see that, and give me an opportunity to tell you. So... here I am. That's part of the reason the members were so understanding... they knew I was finally going to tell you today," he chuckled sheepishly and looked at the ground, "I understand if you don't feel the same way, really, I don't want to lose you as a friend, but.... I thought you should know."

You felt like you were dreaming. Your eyes teared up at his words and you were thankful he couldn't see you in the soft light. Your heart felt like it was going to burst.

His face looked at yours in concern.

"Jinnie..." You could barely speak.

So instead you stood on your tip-toes and gently pressed your lips on top of his large, pillow-y ones. He kissed you back passionately, wrapping his long arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He was so warm, and smelled so comforting and familiar. You felt like you were in heaven.

When you broke away you both had the biggest grins on your face. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, humming in content.

  "Seokjin-ah," you whispered, burying your face in his chest, "I'm so glad you told me."

He kissed the top of your head and rested his chin on top, holding you against him tightly.

  "And I am so glad I skipped work today."

You both chuckled and kissed once more.

*

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