#but I don’t want to struggle to survive anymore

[kingproblem]

hi if you like rap y’all should go support my brother so he can take care of his neurodivergent mess of a sister 😇

[rosicheeks]

Been thinking about you hon, missed seeing you around. Glad to have you pop up in my feed again ❤️

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 3 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: a power outage, Jungkook being a menace as per always, getting stood up for Valentine's Day, falling on a patch of ice, alcohol, curses, peach, OC gets a little jealous, explicit content: teasing?, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, sex toy (vibrator), male and female masturbation, praising, cum play (don't be stupid), fingering

☆word count: 13.2k

☆a/n: this is like one of my fav chapters in this whole series, and also the one inspired by jungkook's iconic live with the candle and the white dress shirt and oof :') hope you enjoy it!! Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Thursday, February 14th 

Sometimes, the universe aligns to create such a shitty day that you think your life is a joke. A cruel joke, and you’re just the sitcom character that people use to make themselves feel better.

Today has been one of those days. You woke up late, somehow not hearing your alarm, and got to your midterm so late you didn’t have time to finish. At least you were confident in the answers that you did write down, so you think there’s a chance you’ll still pass. 

Then, you forgot your student ID, and the lady at the cafeteria refused to let you eat even though she’s seen you almost every day of the semester so far. Nabi offered you some of her salad, but you felt bad and barely ate.

Then the rain started – freezing rain at that – and you had to run to the other building for your genetics class, ending with your hair half frozen and the knowledge that you’re going to get sick by tomorrow.

Genetics class in and of itself is fine. Your stomach gurgling all through the class isn’t, and you’ve noticed people looking at you where you’re sitting, every time your stomach thinks it’s a whale and it needs to sing to its fellow mates.

During break, someone offers you a protein bar, and you take it with cheeks burning, thanking them profusely. Though you hate the taste of protein bars, and you struggle to finish it without puking on the desk. You power through, and then the class resumes, and you try to focus. It’s hard, and when you receive a text from Hoseok, you stop pretending that you’re listening.

[2:47 pm] Hobi: have u seen the weather outside? [2:47 pm] You: yeah it’s trash. I think I’m still half frozen [2:49 pm] Hobi: don’t have power at my place anymore [2:50 pm] Hobi: and it looks dangerous to drive

You know exactly what’s coming. It shouldn’t even come as a surprise – you don’t know why you agreed to meet up on Valentine’s Day. Yet, you’ve been looking forward to it all day, perhaps because it’s been so shit even hanging out with Hoseok on this day of celebration of love seemed better.

[2:50 pm] Hobi: any chance I can get a raincheck?

You want to bash your head on the desk, and of course, the professor chooses this exact moment to call you out for being on your phone. You flush a deep red, mumbling an apology as you put your phone face down on the desk. Everyone’s looking at you, and from where you’re sitting at the back of the class you can see that half the people aren’t even taking notes. You think they’re full of shit for glaring at you, but you can’t help the way you turn crimson, and Nabi stifles a laugh next to you.

“Shut up,” you whisper through gritted teeth, elbowing her in the ribs. 

She shrugs innocently, and then her eyes slide back to the professor as he resumes the class. Not wanting to risk it, you focus too, and it seems the shame is what you need to finally concentrate because you find yourself typing away on the computer, describing the pictures in the PowerPoint slides so you can understand them later.

The lights go out five minutes before the end of the class. The projector shuts down in time, a clear indication that the college has run out of power too – something that rarely ever happens unless it’s the end of the world outside.

There’s a series of gasps, and the professor looks so jaded at the front of the class that you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s made of the actual precious stone. He looks towards the door, where you can see that the light has also gone out in the hallway.

Without even a glance at the class, he slams his laptop shut, heaving out a sigh.

“Class dismissed for today, we don’t have enough time left to wait for the power to come back on.” 

It doesn’t even take half a second before everyone is starting to put their stuff away, the class suddenly overcome with a cacophony of sounds, and Nabi turns to you.

“Who were you texting during class?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Shut up.” You put your laptop in your bag, chugging the rest of your water bottle before you stuff it next to the laptop. “Hobi cancelled on me.”

Of course the whole friend group now knows about you two. You have Hoseok to blame for that, and his incredibly good idea to have sex at a party last week, where Yoongi walked in on the two of you. You’ve never seen Yoongi look more uncomfortable before in your life and, to your surprise, he’s been teased about the situation a lot more than you or Hoseok. It’s still a relief because you were afraid the friend group would go to shit if people knew, but now it seems it’s only solidified it even more.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “Why?”

You motion to the dead neon lights over your heads. “The weather. He doesn’t have power anymore.”

“Shit.” You finish packing your stuff and you’re walking out of the class when she continues, “That’s wild though, didn’t think the freezing rain would hit that bad.”

A girl in front of you turns as if summoned. “They’re saying it’s going to be the worst storm of the century.” She points her phone towards you and Nabi, screen first. “Look, tons of trees have already fallen.”

Your eyes widen, because indeed she’s showing a picture from a group chat, of a tree having fallen on someone’s poor car. You wince in time with Nabi.

“RIP to whoever’s car that is,” you answer.

The girl nods, a wistful expression taking over her features. “That would be my boyfriend’s.”

You don’t talk more after that, and she jogs to join her friends closer to the stairs. You take that as an opportunity to finally reply to Hoseok, grabbing your phone out of the pocket of your coat.

[3:59 pm] You: power even went out in college so yeah, np!

Hoseok is quicker to reply than you’ve expected, saying that he’d like to meet up some time this weekend if you can. You don’t promise him anything, though you don’t really have plans as of right now.

You’ve just got a feeling that, if the storm is going to be the storm of the century, you won’t be hanging out for at least a few days. And the moment you step outside, you realize that it might even take more than a few days.

Trees have fallen everywhere. The sidewalk is entirely iced, and just by the time you’ve made it to the bus stop in front of the building, you’ve seen a car accident, both cars unable to stop at a stop sign. You figure taking the bus would be dangerous right now, and you settle on aiming for the pedestrian trail that leads to a park near your apartment, while Nabi parts to head towards the dorm, where apparently the power is still on. She tells you to let her know if you have power at home, and then you turn to head towards home, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

At least it’s not raining heavily as you walk. It’s the only positive thing in your day, and you hold onto your phone, sending a text to Taehyung to inform him of the situation.

You’re two minutes from home when you slip on a slab of ice, and you fall in a puddle of mud that stains your pale pants. You don’t even know how there can be mud when everything else is frozen, but of course, you had to fall in it. You assess yourself for a second, making sure nothing hurts too bad and then you mutter, “Of fucking course.”

You don’t even feel like getting up. If it wasn’t for the fact that the mud in which you’re sitting is freezing, you think you’d sit there until you died. You feel drained, and the weight of the day finally hits you head-on, bringing tears to your eyes.

Or maybe it’s just the embarrassment of walking home with your favourite pair of pants ruined. You don’t even know anymore; too much has happened in just a few hours for your brain to accept to be working anymore. You angrily blink the tears away, knowing you’ll break down the second you step inside your own home.

You can only hope that Jungkook is not going to be there. You hold onto that hope as you get to the building, and when you see the lights are out, the tears win against you. You carefully walk up the stairs – even they are covered in a thick sheet of ice – and surprisingly, you make it to the top unscathed.

You try to unlock the door with shaky fingers, struggling to find the hole through the blurriness of your tears, and you almost consider breaking the door down when it suddenly swings open in front of you.

“Peach?”

You’re aware that you’ve got fat tears rolling down your cheeks. You’re aware that you probably look a mess – you are a mess – but all you can do is stare at Jungkook.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern as he steps aside to let you in.

You put your bag down, shrugging as he shuts the door behind him carefully, eyeing you as if you’re a specimen of a rare animal that’s going to run if he startles it. You refuse to meet his gaze, refuse to speak lest you embarrass yourself with crying even more. All you do is angrily wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Hey,” he says, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

You motion around. “What’s wrong?” You scoff, and out of spite, you force down the wave of tears that is threatening to meet the ones you’ve just dried on your cheeks. “Everything is fucking wrong.”

You glance at Jungkook, and he’s just watching, eyes widened. He seems startled by your outburst, and you think you see him gulp.

“Do you…” he trails off, glancing at the door. You only then realize that he’s clad in his winter coat, and he was probably on his way out when you arrived. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head no, hating yourself for the way your bottom lip trembles. 

His hand is still on your shoulder, and it slowly slides to your arm. “Did you hurt yourself?” he asks.

He’s only then realized that you’re half-covered in mud.

“I fell on a patch of ice,” you answer.

He makes you turn, assessing the damage. “If you soak your pants in water, I can get the stain out.”

“There’s no power.”

He turns you back around, offering you a small smile as he cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. “Astute.”

You want to punch him so bad, but what you do is laugh, which makes you think you’ve gone crazy.

“Water still runs, though,” he points out. “I’ll take care of it when the power comes back on. Doesn’t even need to be warm. You can save what’s left of the hot water for a shower if you want?”

He says it like a question, and you shrug your shoulders. A new tear rolls on your cheek, and to your surprise, Jungkook dries it with his thumb. He then points to your shoes.

“Take these off. You’re going to take a shower before the neighbours steal the water.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, as he’s just staring at you as if what you were going to say was going to be the stupidest shit he’s ever heard. As much as you want to hate him right now, the way his hand feels on your arm is making the anxiety lessen, until you realize that it’s going to be okay.

You can head to Ria and Nabi’s dorm right after a quick shower.

“M’kay,” you finally accept. “But you can go, you don’t have to stay.”

He shrugs, and when he lets go of your arm, you almost want to grab his hand and put it back there. “I was just going to charge my phone in my car. It can wait.”

You hold his gaze, feeling swallowed by his big doe eyes. It finishes drying the tears on your waterline, and you take a deep steadying breath. “M’kay,” you repeat.

At that he smirks, nodding his head once. He kicks off his shoes as you carefully take yours off, and then he makes grabby hands at you.

“What?” you ask.

“Your coat,” he answers. “I’ll put it in the closet for you.”

You slightly frown. “Why?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice?” When you remain silent, he chuckles. “You think I’m just going to let my best friend’s sister cry when she gets home?”

The words hurt, even though they’re just a statement of what you are to him. “You’re so random.”

He looks somehow offended. “Just give me your coat, peach.” He’s stern, and you have half a thought to mimic him, but you resist. When you hand him the coat, he offers you a grin. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Once again you surprise yourself by laughing, and the grin on his lips softens in a way that makes you warm inside.

“You’re annoying,” you whine.

He shrugs as he opens the closet. “Just go take a quick shower. Make sure to soak the pants too.”

“Yes, mom.”

He chokes on a snort. “Oof, no, don’t call me mom.”

You stifle a laugh, but a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. He faces you again, and you startle as he pinches your cheek. You push him off, as all he does is offer you a wide grin that makes dimples appear on his cheeks.

You’ve never really seen those dimples before, not while he’s smiling. You have to force yourself to look away, and as entrancing as they are, you manage to have your gaze drop to a random spot on the floor. “Alright then, I’ll grab my stuff. You can charge your phone while I’m in the shower.”

“All good, I’m at 65%,” he says. “I just checked online, and the power outage will likely last through the night so… figured I didn’t have anything better to do.”

You purse your lips. “Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence before he motions to the bathroom. “Aren’t you going?”

Your cheeks burn, and you nod once before heading towards your room as he snorts behind you, evidently laughing at you. You ignore him, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and bringing them to the bathroom. Jungkook’s moved to the couch, and to your surprise you see him with a book in hand.

“You read?”

The question is out before you realize, and Jungkook’s head snaps in your direction.

“It’s for a class.”

You nod once. “Right.” You then scrape your throat, glance at the bathroom and then settle your eyes on him again. “I’ll be right back.”

He smiles at you, and it’s the last thing you see before you walk into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind you. Luckily enough, it’s still light enough outside for you to be able to shower without being in the dark, and as Jungkook advertised, there’s still hot water.

You take the fastest shower of your life, not wanting to risk running out of hot water, and then you put your dirty pants in the sink, soaking them in cold water. You put your clean clothes on – nothing impressive, just a pair of black sweatpants with a white t-shirt. You take one look at yourself in the mirror – you look like you’ve gone through hell, but at least you’re refreshed. 

With a steadying breath, you walk out of the bathroom, and your eyes immediately find Jungkook where he’s still sitting on the couch, looking like he hasn’t moved an inch. He glances at you before resuming his attention on his book. You feel awkward, yet you still walk in his direction because, frankly, what else is there for you to do when there’s no power?

“What’s the book about?” you enquire.

He raises it for you to see as you sit next to him. He moves too fast, and all you can see is something about trickle-down economy before the book is back in his lap.

“Looks boring.”

He laughs. “It is. Plus, trickle-down economics is bullshit.”

You nod wisely, even though your knowledge in the economy and business field is little to zero. All you know is that trickle-down economics is what rich people use to defend their actions, which immediately makes it so you don’t trust it one bit.

Eat the rich and all that.

“Right,” you let out.

Jungkook throws you a glance. “Feeling better?”

You don’t know how to answer. Because, yes, you feel somehow better now that you are clean and warmed from the shower, but you’re still very aware that the power is out, you’ve likely failed a midterm, and your date was cancelled.

“Sort of,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Today was just a shitshow.” 

He says nothing, but his big eyes on you entice you to open up to him, making you feel more at ease than you’ve ever been around him.

Maybe because you just need someone to vent to after all.

“Like… I woke up late this morning,” you tell him. “Arrived so late to my midterm that I couldn’t finish. Then realized that I forgot my wallet here and couldn’t eat lunch. Got stood up for a date tonight, and now no power here? This day has been the worst.”

You sit back on the couch after you’ve finished your tirade, and Jungkook just looks at you curiously. You don’t register you’ve called hanging out with Hoseok a date until Jungkook says, “You had a Valentine’s Day date?”

You shut your eyes, pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale loudly. “Sort of. Not really a date.”

“How can it not really be a date?”

You entirely miss the teasing in his voice, mostly because you’re appalled at yourself for the slipping. “It’s just… my friend with benefits, so not a date.”

“Damn, peach,” he says, and he bursts out laughing. You crack an eye open, your heart feeling like it’s been stabbed as Jungkook grins at you. “Didn’t think you were one to have a friend with benefits.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and his gaze slides away from you as his brows furrow slightly. “You’re Tae’s sister, and the way he talks about you I just… I don’t know.”

Annoyance creeps into you as you cock an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t listen to what Taehyung says about me. He still thinks I’m twelve.”

Jungkook snorts, and to your surprise, it makes you smile, right as he glances at you. 

“Are you not?”

“Yah!” You punch him in the shoulder, and he laughs as he massages the spot. “I’ll have you know I’m an adult.”

His features turn somber, and he plays with his piercing for a time before he answers. “I’m starting to realize it, trust me.”

In the somberness of his eyes, a spark ignites, and you feel as if electricity is running on every inch of your body. You wish it would run into the building instead, bringing the power back on but unfortunately, you’re the only victim, and all you can do is hold his gaze.

The moment stretches until you grow uncomfortable, and your eyes slide to the Switch under the TV, as if it’ll find solace there.

“Anyway,” you say, scraping your throat. “Apparently there’s still power at the dorms so I think I’ll head over there.”

“You’ll abandon me?” he says, faking offence. “Right when I offered to take care of your pants? The nerves on you.”

You roll your eyes as the awkwardness fades to be replaced by the annoyance Jungkook usually brings out of you. “You’re a big boy, you don’t need me.”

“You sure you want to walk all the way there though? What if you fall again?”

You push him as he smiles wickedly, satisfied that he’s annoyed you. “I hate you.”

“You know what you hate even more than me?”

Your brow creases in confusion. “What?”

He shrugs his shoulders, a smirk growing on his lips. “You’ll have to stay for me to answer.”

You sigh deeply, folding your arms on your chest. You gauge him, watch as his smirk only widens while you ponder staying here. And you don’t even know why you’re considering it in the first place. There’s just something about being able to talk to Jungkook like this, about being comfortable next to him that makes you want to stay.

“Name a single reason why I should stay,” you finally say.

His smirk turns victorious. “I’ll cook something for you.”

“The power is out,” you feel the need to remind him. 

He throws you a no-bullshit look. “Really, peach, you need to find a bit of creativity in your life.”

“What?”

“The stove doesn’t run on electricity, it runs on gas.”

You look up at the ceiling. “How was I supposed to know that, I barely ever cook.”

“I cook!” he bursts, waving the book around. You didn’t realize he was still holding it, and you laugh as the pages flutter around.  “And you usually steal my food, so just let me make something for you tonight.”

You purse your lips, meeting his gaze as he looks at you, faking annoyance. “What do you want to cook?”

“I have chicken that I need to cook tonight if I don’t want it to go bad,” he says. “I can make noodles with it.”

It takes you all but two seconds before you realize that there’s no way you’re going to leave when Jungkook is suggesting to cook for you. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” You nod, and Jungkook beams. “You won’t regret it.”

You laugh, slightly shaking your head as he puts the book away and gets up. He offers you his hand, the one with the tattoos on the back of it, and you furrow your brows. “What?”

“Go get changed,” he says, hand still extended between you. “I’ll give you a Valentine’s Day date, but you’re going to have to play the part too.”

Something stops in your chest – your heart, most likely – and you’re hit with the thought that this is a bad idea. That whatever Jungkook means by that is going to be the mistake of the century, yet you still find yourself accepting his extended hand.

He pulls you to your feet, and he doesn’t let go of your hand for a moment, big doe eyes widening slightly as he looks at you.

“You…” you trail off, scraping your throat as you look away from his eyes.

It’s all you can do not to get lost in his gaze. 

“I?” he presses, voice low.

“You should dress up too,” you mumble, cheeks burning. “So I’m not alone.”

He lets go of your hand, and your fingers twitch as it falls to your side. When his index finds your chin, you think your blood stops in your veins. He makes you tilt your head back, enough so that you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“I will.” His voice is grave, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart to your lips once as they part. “I’m going to make this worth it. You deserve it after such a shit day, don’t you?”

You gulp. “Yeah?”

He pats your cheek. “Yeah, you do.”

And then he’s walking away. You’re left standing there, heart racing in your chest, feeling so warm you think you’re about to catch fire. You watch him disappear into his room, and it’s only when he’s out of sight that you manage to move, making your way to your own room.

You shut the door behind you, resting against it as you take deep breaths to calm down. You’re not sure if it’s doing you any good, because this is Jungkook. Jungkook, with his tattoo sleeve and piercings, your older brother’s best friend. Your roommate, the man that’s been playing with you for weeks, for months, like you’re just some playdough. You think he’s doing it on purpose. He has to – he’s trying to make your life miserable because you’re Taehyung’s sister. You don’t see what else it could be. Because why the fuck would Jungkook act like this with you?

You’re not stupid enough to believe it isn’t your fault. Because you were there the night of The Incident, and you reckon things have changed with Jungkook since that night. 

You take a deep, steadying breath before pushing up from the door. No matter what it is that is making Jungkook act like this, you’re still curious to see what he’s preparing for you. Spending time with him like this, with no power and nothing else to do than talk…

Maybe it’s going to help you understand what’s happening in that thick skull of his. So you search for something to wear, something warm since the heating is also down. You settle on brown dress pants that you know make your ass look amazing, and you pair them with a pale beige wool turtleneck. You tuck the shirt in your pants, putting a belt on to make sure it stays in place, and then you take a good look at yourself in your standing mirror. Satisfied with your outfit, you make to move out of your room, but you stop with your hand halfway to the knob.

You can hear Jungkook humming in his room, a soft melody that’s making you think he’s taking a long time in there. Is he actually dressing up? It makes something terribly warm and soft settle in your chest, and you turn back around, grab your makeup pouch and head to your desk.

If this is a date, or whatever it is that Jungkook considers dates to be, you want to look good for it. So you put a little bit of makeup on, trusting your instinct to make it look great even though the light of your small mirror doesn’t turn on since there’s still no power. You hear Jungkook get out of his room before you’re done, and you hope he doesn’t decide to come here.

You doubt he would, but you somehow feel awkward as you’re getting ready. Because he’s your older brother’s best friend, because he’s a college fuckboy, because he’s been making you feel too many things lately – most of them you repress as if your life depends on it. And you think, your life does depend on it. Because nothing can happen between you and Jungkook; you wouldn’t do that to Taehyung. And mostly, you wouldn’t do that to Jungkook, because you know Taehyung would hate him if something did happen.

You sigh. It comes out shakily, a clear indication that you’re growing anxious, and you almost want to laugh at yourself. You want to tell yourself to get a grip, to just play along for things are bound to go back to normality when the power comes back. 

You only stop feeling anxious when Taehyung texts you, your phone lighting up where you’ve put it down on your desk.

[5:02 pm] bröther👽: jk texted me the same thing! Glad u won’t be alone tonight [5:02 pm] You: he’s gonna cook dinner [5:03 pm] bröther👽: lmao, jk doesn’t cook for girls, feel lucky

With that you realize that, indeed, you should feel lucky. Because Jungkook can be a friend, if not anything else. It’s reassuring, and you finish getting ready feeling lighter than you’ve felt all day, as if the hell that today was is all forgotten. 

You spray some perfume on the inside of your wrists, dabbing it on your neck before you finally declare yourself ready to head out of your room. You hope Jungkook won’t make fun of you – he’d be the kind of guy to make fun of you for this, you just know it – and you make your way to the kitchen, where you can hear him busying himself.

He’s brought his portable speaker out of his room. The one that also has a projector in it, and it shines northern lights on the walls and on the ceiling of the kitchen, giving it a cozy atmosphere. No music is playing as of right now, yet Jungkook is still humming, voice low yet melodious.

You rarely hear him sing, but anytime you do, you feel like your ears are blessed by an angel.

He reappears from where he was hidden in the fridge, and his mouth falls open as he catches sight of you. 

He’s wearing a white dress shirt. You think it’s made of linen – it doesn’t look particularly fancy. Yet the way he’s rolled it on his forearms is weirdly attractive, even though he’s only wearing grey sweatpants with it. It’s a look, a look you think only he can pull off. He’s taken the time to style his hair back, and he’s put on earrings you’ve only seen him wear a couple of times during parties.

He eyes you up and down, his doe eyes crinkling in appreciation. “You look good, peach.”

The compliment makes you blush, and you offer him a small smile. He echoes it right away, and he holds up a bottle of rosé that you bought two months ago and forgot all about since then.

“Wine?” you let out as you stop in front of him. You feel awkward because, obviously, it’s wine, but you still hold his gaze as he nods.

“It’s yours but…” He shrugs, glancing at the label. “I figured it’d work well with the chicken.”

You nod once. “Sure, we can drink it.”

It makes him happy. You can see it in the way he beams, and then he puts it down on the counter with the rest of the ingredients. When he moves, you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you feel your cheeks burn again. You glance outside – the rain has stopped, but grey clouds are still looming in the sky as the world slowly darkens. You wonder if they’ll go away some time tonight – without the light pollution, you reckon you’d be able to stargaze.

You end up helping Jungkook with the cooking, chopping some vegetables as he takes care of the meat. You’re not particularly hungry, so you take your time, talking about everything and nothing. Jungkook is good at this, you realize. He’s good at changing your mind, at making sure it doesn’t wander back to your midterm and to the rest of your shitty day. He makes you laugh, cracking stupid jokes whenever you do something, smirking at you when you roll your eyes.

Being with him like this also makes you understand why he’s Taehyung’s friend. He feels more natural this way, less fuckboy-ish, and it’s a side of him you’ve never really seen before.

You sit at the kitchen table, sharing a glass of the rosé wine while the food simmers on the stove. Jungkook’s put on an indie music playlist before you started cooking – something you teased him about. Who knew Jeon Jungkook likes indie music?

“How was Tae before college?” Jungkook asks all of a sudden when there’s a lull in the conversation. “He barely talks about high school.”

You know the exact reason why, and her name is Youna. Taehyung’s ex, his high school sweetheart. The one that moved to the other side of the country without ever once looking back.

“He was an idiot,” you answer, and Jungkook laughs. “No, seriously. He dated the same girl all through high school. Was convinced he was going to marry her.”

“That sounds on brand with Tae,” Jungkook says, nodding his head wisely. “He said that about every girl he’s dated in college, but most of them don’t last more than a few weeks.”

You wince. “Remember Hailey from last semester?”

She lasted about three weeks, but she spent most of those at the apartment. It was the only three weeks where Jungkook and you had talked more than just small talk – or his usual teasing. Mostly because you kept complaining about her, and Jungkook kept saying you were cute when you were mad.

Come to think of it, it still was teasing.

“Fuck, her voice,” Jungkook lets out, shaking his head. “I’m sure she was faking having such a high voice. I don’t know how Taehyung could deal with that.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and Jungkook smiles as he watches you. “I swear to God, I was about to kick Tae out of the apartment,” you say. “I’m glad she didn’t last.”

“Agreed.”

There’s another silence as the song switches on Jungkook’s speaker. You take a sip of wine, appreciating the taste, and Jungkook gets up to check the food on the stove. He comes back a moment later, sitting back next to you.

You think he’s closer. He feels closer, and the smell of his cologne fills your nose again. 

“You put on some cologne,” you state, and it startles you somehow. You weren’t expecting to say that and, clearly, Jungkook wasn’t expecting it either.

“Yeah.” He looks down at himself as if the cologne is visible on him. “Do you like it?”

You gulp. “Yeah, you smell good.”

He smirks, nodding his head. “You too, peach. I love the vanilla scent.”

You don’t know what to do with the compliment. You mutter a thank you before taking a large sip of wine, and Jungkook chuckles before following your lead.

“Do you think Tae and that girl in France will last?” you ask. “He still hasn’t told me who she is.”

Indeed, he’s remained evasive whenever you’ve asked. You stalked the people that are with him on the semester abroad, and you think two of the girls could be your brother’s type, but it’s hard to tell.

“Oh,” Jungkook lets out. He grabs his phone, resting his forearms on the table as he opens it. He goes on Instagram, and as it loads, he glances at you. “He’s told me. Let me show you.”

“What!” you exclaim. “How come he told you and not me?”

Jungkook chuckles. “No idea. But here.”

He shows you the girl’s profile, and you take his phone as you scroll through the pictures. To your surprise, she’s not one of the two girls you stalked. She looks shy, barely showing her face in her pictures, most of them being of nature anyway. Come to think of it, you do get a romantic vibe from her feed, and you reckon that would work well with Taehyung. 

You’re about to give Jungkook his phone back when it vibrates in your hand, a notification appearing at the top. 

[6:05 pm] Shelly 💦🍒: are u gonna be here soon?

It’s not your fault that you read it, and your gaze widens as you look up from the device. Jungkook hasn’t noticed, and he smiles at you, seemingly expectant.

“So?” he asks.

“You had a date tonight?”

His mouth falls open. He looks guilty, eyes widening and taking a sheepish expression. He remains silent, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he thinks of what to answer.

You don’t know how to feel. You feel bad for the girl – Shelly – who’s clearly waiting for Jungkook somewhere. You feel bad that he chose to stay with you because you were upset, but mostly you feel strange that he’s doing all of this for you when there’s someone waiting for him. 

The emojis next to her name are enough of an explanation of what she is to Jungkook. Still, you feel increasingly uncomfortable, even more so as he says nothing.

“What the fuck, JK?”

“She’s no one,” he says when you get up. “Trust me, I’ve only hung out with her a couple of times.”

You laugh, and it’s somehow void of joy. “Why would I care?”

He looks at the glasses of wine, and then at the food on the stove. “I don’t know… because we’re…” He motions between you, and then at said glasses of wine and food. “I just forgot to tell her I wasn’t going to come over.”

It’s enough of a reminder that Jungkook, for all his current kindness, is a renowned college fuckboy. It reminds you of all the times you’ve heard him fuck – was Shelly one of the girls? You feel disgusted, and you walk out of the kitchen, not wanting to look at Jungkook right now.

“Peach,” he says as he follows you out in the darkness of the living room.

The living room is also strangely cold, and you shiver as you turn towards him. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But why are you even reacting like this?”

You scoff. “I don’t know, Jungkook, you tell me.”

You can’t see his expression. But when he takes a step closer to you, you feel the heat of his body radiating in the space between you.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, and you hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” you say, and you scoff again. “I’m weirded out.”

“Because I was going to fuck someone tonight?” It’s his turn to scoff when you remain silent. “Weren’t you going to fuck that dude? Hoseok?”

You don’t know how he remembers Hoseok’s name, but he’s got a point. You wet your lips, tongue poking your cheek next. “Right.”

“Come on, peach, just come back in the kitchen,” he says. He grabs your hand, and your breath gets caught in your throat as he escorts you back to the chair where you were sitting. You begrudgingly follow, and when you’re seated he towers over you.

You tilt your head back. “What?”

He flicks your nose, and you dodge a second too late. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “I wasn’t jealous I was just weirded out.”

He smiles at you wickedly. “Of course, peach. Of course.”

He sounds so cocky you want to hate him, but all you can do is glare at the table. He pushes your wine glass towards you as he sits back next to you and you wordlessly take it to chug it.

“Now that that’s done,” he says once you’ve put it back on the table, “what do you think of Tae’s girl?”

You had all but forgotten why you were holding Jungkook’s phone in the first place. You recall her Instagram to the forefront of your mind, pursing your lips. 

“She looks chill,” you answer.

Jungkook pouts. “Just that?”

You shrug. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Well,” Jungkook starts. “For one I can’t believe she’s Tae’s type. She looks nothing like the girls he dated here. Like just think about Hailey?”

You just nod, because in truth you fully agree with him. 

“Her Instagram is a vibe though,” Jungkook continues. “Tae is big on vibes so… maybe it works?”

You nod once more, tilting your head to the side as you really think about it. Because frankly you’d like for Taehyung to find someone that lasts. As much as you know he’s been having fun in college, you know his happiness usually lies in a healthy relationship like the one he had with his ex. 

“Hopefully it does,” you finally say. “Tae deserves it.”

Jungkook looks at you, somber expression on his features as he plays with his piercing. It makes your heart cease in your chest, and you busy yourself with refilling the wine glasses as he remains silent.

“He does,” Jungkook eventually replies. “He actually really does.”

He sounds so serious you throw him a questioning glance. “Yeah?”

He blinks once, as if stepping out of a daze before flashing his infuriating smirk at you again. “Definitely.”

There’s an awkward silence, and you watch as he takes a sip of wine before getting up to check on the food. He deems it ready, and makes two bowls, one for you and one for him. He sets yours in front of you, a proud smile on his lips.

“Smells good,” you compliment him as he sits.

He winks at you. “Wait till you taste.”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, and you take a tentative bite, holding his gaze as he expectantly waits.

“Shit,” you let out, and you fan your mouth with your hand. “Why is it so spicy?”

“Don’t tell me you’re like your brother and can’t stand spicy food,” he complains as you take a long sip of wine.

You put your wine glass back down, wincing as it clinks against the bowl. It fortunately doesn’t break, and you push it away from the dish as you chuckle. “What’s wrong with not liking spicy food?”

He pouts. “You guys are so weak.”

You fake-glare at him. “This shit is so spicy it would wake the dead.”

He snorts, stifling his laugh until you meet his gaze and you burst out laughing at the same time. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him guffaw like this. His laugh is contagious, pretty, and you’re convinced it can have healing effects.

You’re convinced it has healing effects. Indeed, in that instant, you finally really forget about the day, the heaviness it left behind dwindling into nothingness. It’s replaced with happiness, and chatter with Jungkook becomes easier, more natural. 

You realize he smiles a lot. You make him laugh a lot too, and whenever he does you feel your heart flutter in your chest. You don’t like the feeling, know it’s a mistake, but with the wine, all you can do is try to make him laugh some more, and smile whenever he does.

You’re on your first beer after finishing the wine – and the overly spicy food, which Jungkook congratulated you profusely for finishing. You’ve talked about every subject that’s come to your mind so far, none feeling taboo with Jungkook. He eventually tells you about Shelly – she is indeed one of the girls you’ve heard him sleep with – and you laugh as he admits he’s really happy he didn’t have to see her tonight.

You can’t help but snort. “Jeon Jungkook, saying no to sex? I’ve heard everything.”

“Bruh.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Is your opinion of me so low you think sex is the most important thing to me?”

His eyes are gleaming with mischief in the light of his speaker, which will apparently run out of battery soon. You both don’t care, and you’ve lit a candle in case it does die. Its sweet fragrance has been chasing the smell of the food away, and it’s been giving the kitchen a homey vibe, even as it’s growing chilly.

“Is it not?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you. “Not at all.”

You throw him a no-bullshit look that makes him frown cutely. 

“How long can you go without having sex?” you ask him, holding in a laugh.

He narrows his doe eyes at you. “At least a few weeks.”

“A few weeks? That’s nothing!”

“Yah,” he bursts, and he laughs as you snort. “Peach, just because I have casual sex doesn’t mean I can’t stop if I want to.”

“Then stop,” you challenge him.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Give me one reason why I should.”

“To prove a point?”

His eyes narrow further, but if you’ve understood one thing about Jeon Jungkook, it’s that he doesn’t step down from a challenge. No, as competitive as he is, you’re pretty sure he’ll do it.

“Peach,” he purrs, and it has something warm form in the pit of your stomach. “Is it really about me proving a point, or is it about you being jealous?”

You choke on the sip of beer you were taking, which only makes him laugh. You think it’s a little condescending, but you know he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. You still punch him in the shoulder for it, unable to resist.

“Why would I be jealous?” you ask. “Hobi fucks me good.”

Jungkook shuts his eyes and his nose scrunches. He shakes his head once before looking at you again. “I didn’t want to know that.”

You smile as if you’ve never done anything wrong in your whole life. “Your loss.”

He laughs at that, gaze dropping to the table. Silence grows between you, but it’s comfortable, not like what silence with Hoseok feels like. With Hoseok you feel the need to speak whenever there’s a lull in the conversation but, right now, you’re content with just sitting back in your chair, sipping on your beer.

To your surprise, Jungkook starts singing over the song, gaze lost in his own glass of beer. His voice settles deep inside of you, resonating in your soul, and you just look at him, awe clouding your mind.

You’re not sure he’s realized he’s singing. Because when he meets your gaze, he lets out a small laugh. “Why are you looking at me like this?”

“You have a beautiful voice,” you whisper.

It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but you’re pretty sure his cheeks have turned pink. “Nah.”

“No, I’m serious,” you insist. “I often hear you hum and… you sing really well.”

His nose scrunches up again. “Stop it.”

“Just take the compliment,” you say, laughing as he plays with his piercing.

You reckon it might be the first time in your life you’ve ever seen Jeon Jungkook shy. Because he clearly is, and he looks away from you, running his hand through his hair. It undoes the hairstyle, and a strand falls on his forehead.

You’ve never felt such a visceral need to brush your hand through someone’s hair before. You manage to resist, busying yourself with holding your beer instead.

“M’kay,” he lets out. “Thanks, peach.”

His voice is soft. Softer than the fur of a puppy, and it makes the warm thing in you grow. You gulp, wetting your lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance at your mouth, and he looks conflicted for half a second before he smirks again.

“We should have hung out like this before,” he declares.

“Yeah?” is all you can answer.

You feel yourself leaning in. You haven’t even realized how close you’re sitting to him until you’re leaning in. He does too. He leans forward, tilting his head to the side slightly. He looks surprised, even more so when one of your hands finds the back of his neck, pulling him closer until you’ve erased the distance between you.

You both didn’t close your eyes. And you both look startled from your lips touching, so much so that you let go of him, straightening away from him. He, on the other hand, hasn’t moved, and his gaze goes fully serious before he grabs your arm gently, pulling you closer to him again.

This time, when your mouths meet, you shut your eyes, sighing softly as he kisses you. His piercings press into your lower lip, and as his mouth moves against you, you feel the warm thing inside of you grow so big it bursts. It bursts the same way fireworks do – in an explosion of colours that leaves you waiting for more.

He doesn’t disappoint. He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss. His hand on your arm moves up until it rests on your shoulder before he decides better and moves it to the side of your neck. His thumb swipes at your jaw, gently, and it’s his turn to sigh in the kiss.

When his tongue darts out of his mouth, you meet it with your own. For a reason unknown, you expect it to make you both grow horny, but the kiss remains soft, slow like you have all of eternity stretched out in front of you.

Even though it’s languid, even though it’s soft, you grow dizzy, head spinning as you taste the beer in Jungkook’s mouth. As his hand moves to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You rest one hand on his chest, right above his heart, and you feel the organ racing under your fingers. It makes you grab a handful of fabric as if that will anchor you in the present.

As if that will make you forget that you’re kissing your brother’s best friend. 

It does, though you reckon it might be the way Jungkook shifts in his chair, moving so that you can straddle him. And he pulls you in, softly, tugging on your arm until you let go of the shirt and drape it over his shoulder. You sit on him, legs on each side of him, your toes barely even touching the floor. Still, your mouths move in unison, his lips petal soft against yours. 

Your other arm circles his neck too, until you’re holding him against you. His large hands land on your waist, gently, and his thumbs stroke you, barely even grazing you over the thick fabric of your wool turtleneck.

You don’t know how long you kiss. It just seems like you both don’t want to stop, like you both know the moment you stop will be a wake-up call, one you’d rather avoid while you get stuck in this bubble of eternity with him. The fireworks keep on shining bright, warm summer sun blooming in your heart as if this, this was always meant to be.

Oxygen is futile when you’re kissing Jeon Jungkook. Not needed, as if he breathes air into your lungs. You think he does, and you sigh once more as your hands get lost in the hair on the back of his head.

The next swipe of his tongue is sharper, carries more intent, and you both startle, finally parting from each other. Though you remain a hairsbreadth away, longing for his lips the moment your mouths aren’t connected anymore.

Immobile, you breathe in shakily, and you hear him do it too. He’s still stroking you, gently, and he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in. You rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in the clean laundry smell of his shirt, along with the scent of his cologne as you turn your face towards his neck.

The moment stretches some more, as you listen to the music. His grip around you loosens as you press a soft kiss on the mole you’ve discovered on his neck. He pushes you back, gently, until your back is against the table. Your gazes meet then, and you wonder if his eyes always shine like this. Do they always hold the light of the universe in them, or did you set fire to his gaze?

He gulps and his mouth falls open. His pupils fill with something you can’t quite put your finger on, yet it has clouds taking over the summer sun in your heart until the beating organ goes cold.

“Now you’ve had a fake Valentine’s Day kiss,” he murmurs, and the fireworks burst into a void that tastes like ash as you interpret his gaze.

He’s regretting this. It takes over all of his features, turning his big doe eyes into hearths of remorse. It finishes dousing the sun in your heart until the star goes to sleep, and all that’s left is the echoes of what once was.

“Fake?” is all you manage to let out.

He shuts his eyes, eyelids fluttering close softly. He looks like an angel repenting as he rests his forehead against yours, forcing your own eyes shut from the proximity.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he reminds you, reality sinking into his words. 

You nod against him before pulling away. You try to get up, but his hands on your waist hold you in place.

“Let me go,” you whisper. 

He does so, albeit reluctantly, arms falling to his sides in a defeated manner. You try to not let yourself think about it too much, try to forget what just happened as you stand up, moving away from him.

Without his body heat you shiver, and you hate yourself for the next words you say.

“We should share a room tonight. It’s going to be cold.”

His eyes shoot open as he turns his head towards you, surprise replacing the reality. As if he thought he ruined everything, and you think maybe he did. Maybe he did ruin everything, but you don’t even want to be thinking about it right now. You just want to go to sleep, to let the night pass.

Maybe the insanity will go with it.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.”

Jungkook slowly gets up, facing you. You gulp as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, hand going to your chin again. He leans in, forcing you to tilt your head back until his lips find yours again.

It lasts a fraction of a second, yet it leaves you scrambling for breath as he takes a step back. He nods as you meet his gaze, an eyebrow cocked in question.

“We can sleep in your room,” he says. “It’s smaller, it’s going to be easier to keep it warm.”

Right as he finishes his sentence the battery of his speaker dies, and silence surrounds you as the northern lights go to sleep. The light flickers in time with the flame of the candle, and you glance at it.

“Sounds good,” you agree, and you wet your lips as you look at him again. His big doe eyes still shine even with just the candlelight, and you wish the world was different. Wish that he wasn’t Tae’s friend, that you could just grab him and have him kiss you stupid again. But he’s right. You shouldn’t be doing this.

Sharing a bed is only practical. Only because it’s cold, and you have to survive the night. A voice at the very back of your mind tells you that you could head over to the dorms, but you don’t want to.

You want to remain here, in this instant outside of the linear timeline of your life.

“Maybe you should get your bed covers?” you suggest. “So we don’t get cold.”

He smiles, so far from his usual smirk and grin that you feel a pang in your chest. “Yeah. Yes, that’s a good idea.”

All of five minutes later, he meets you in your room. You’ve changed into your previous outfit, and he’s swiped his dress shirt for an oversized white Nike t-shirt. He’s holding his bed cover to his chest, just a white bundle that he offers you as if he’s trying to make peace with you. You motion to your bed, and he nods before walking over to it.

You shut the door behind him, turning to look at him as he debates for a few seconds where to sleep in your bed. He starts by putting his bed cover over yours and then chooses to sit at the foot of the bed, on the side that’s against the wall.

He then turns to meet your gaze, his profile cast in the flickering light of the candle from the kitchen and the few others you’ve lit while waiting for him.

“I think this is the first time I’ve been in this room since Jimin moved out,” he tells you, and his lips stretch into that same soft smile.

You glance around, pursing your lips. “Hope it doesn’t disappoint.”

“It doesn’t,” he reassures you as he imitates your action, observing your room. “It feels like you.”

Not knowing what’s that supposed to mean, you cock an eyebrow. “Does it?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t explain further, and you shrug it off as you move closer to your bed to sit on the edge. The moment you’re in his vicinity your heart picks up in your chest. It’s hard to believe that Jeon Jungkook is in your bed right now, and you have to remind yourself that it’s purely because it currently is freezing in your apartment. 

“Should we…” you trail off, motioning at the bed.

He chuckles, a sweet sound that forces you to gaze at him, eyes widening as your heartbeat picks up even more. “You want me in your bed so bad, do you?”

You short-circuit, flushing fully red as you struggle to find something witty to reply with. Falling short on words, you end up shrugging your shoulders as you move under the covers, hoping he won’t tease you further. 

You highly doubt you’d survive him teasing you more.

To your relief, Jungkook ends up chuckling again, but he remains silent as he slides in next to you, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. You lie on your back, while he turns to face you, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your profile.

It makes you turn to look at him, and he offers you the same kind smile.

“Shouldn’t we blow the candles out?” he asks, and his gaze darts to where you’ve left the candles on your desk and night table. “Just to make sure we don’t burn the building down.”

“You want to go to sleep right away?”

You hate yourself for saying that. Indeed, a smirk grows on his lips and he jumps on the occasion to say, “You want to do something else?”

Something grows hot inside of you, and it’s not that same summer sun he ignited in you earlier. You wet your lips, burning from the inside out as you remind him, “We shouldn’t.”

He chuckles again. “Didn’t you say he doesn’t need to know?”

You meet his gaze, find the mischief behind his big doe eyes and roll yours. “You’re annoying.”

Right on cue you shiver. It takes you by surprise, because you feel your insides burning, yet the temperature in your room is low, winning against the warmth.

“Are you cold?” he asks, no traces of mischief left in his eyes. Only concern can be found in his pupils, and you want to hate him for it.

“A little,” you admit. “The covers are just cold.”

They actually are, as your bodies have yet to warm them. To your surprise, Jungkook sidles closer to you. 

“I can hold you, if you want. I’m always too hot.”

You burn a thousand shades of red as you wet your lips. “You don’t have to.”

“Come on, peach, I won’t let you freeze while I’m right here.”

Yet he doesn’t do anything, waits until you’ve nodded your head to slide even closer, and he loosely wraps his arm around your waist. His warm breath fans the side of your face, and you do your best to ignore it.

“Better?” he asks, voice low as he whispers in your ear.

You shut your eyes as electricity courses through your whole body. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Your brain zeroes in on the weight of his arm on you, and when his fingers start tracing random figures on your waist, you let out a small yelp.

“That tickles,” you tell him.

He does it again, and you try to push him away. Only, Jungkook is far stronger than you, and all you manage to do is end up with your back against him as he holds you firmly to him.

“Stop,” you beg, a little breathlessly.

“It’s warming you up, is it not?”

You roll your eyes, though you reckon it is. You don’t feel nearly as cold anymore, and you can feel the heat growing in you again. As an attempt to get away from him, you shuffle, and it earns you a breathless chuckle from him.

Just to make sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing, you move your hips again. Something twitches in his sweatpants and your mouth falls open.

“You’re…”

“Consequences of the position,” he’s quick to say. “Don’t worry about it.”

You don’t know how you possibly can not worry about it. It’s all your brain can focus on as you shift again, and this time he hisses.

“Maybe you should not do that.” His voice is low, husky, and it sends shivers all over your body. 

You bite your lips. “Why?”

He pulls you back in, flush against his chest. His lips ghost on the side of your neck, and you think you’ve been struck with lightning. “Because we can’t do anything about it.”

“Right.”

He rests his head on the pillow behind you again, sighing deeply. His hand holds you against him, forcing you to feel every inch of his hard body pressing into you.

Of his hard dick too, where it pushes into your ass.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” you say, eyes fluttering shut.

He nods. “We should.”

“I need to blow out the candles.”

His arm loosens around you before he fully lets you go. You prop yourself on an elbow, leaning towards the night table. You blow out the candle you’ve left there, and before you can move you feel Jungkook’s palm resting on your hip.

“Shit, peach,” he whispers.

You look behind yourself. Your position is explicit, as if you’re angling yourself to fuck yourself on him better. It makes you move your hips, and you see the moment something snaps inside of him.

“Why don’t you lie down next to me before we blow the rest of the candles out?”

There’s something stern, authoritative in his voice, and you immediately obey him. 

“On your back,” he adds.

You exhale shakily as you turn, not daring to disobey. His hand lands flat on your stomach, and he starts drawing circles around your navel. You inhale sharply as he nudges your cheek with his nose.

“You look stressed.”

“What are you doing?”

You hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Helping you fall asleep?”

“Jungkook…”

“Peach.”

You fall silent as he keeps tracing circles. He sighs next to you, almost longingly and he rests his forehead against your temple. His lips are so close you think you feel their softness on your cheek.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispers. His fingers still on you, under your navel. Some inch or so over the band of your sweatpants and he pushes your shirt up before resuming his actions directly on your skin.

“We really shouldn’t…” you trail off.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” he asks.

It’s rhetorical – he knows just as well as you that you won’t. “No.”

“It could help you sleep.”

You don’t want to know what the ‘it’ refers to. “Yeah?”

He wets his lips, or maybe he plays with his piercing. But from the proximity, you feel his tongue and you think you’re going to die right then and there.

“Doesn’t it help you sleep when you touch yourself?”

You’re soaking your panties. You’re burning up, caught on fire by every strike of lightning that Jungkook’s words ignite in you.

“Does it help you?” you counter-back, remembering when you heard him watching porn two weeks ago.

“It does. Always sleep soundly after.”

You slowly nod, gulping as his lips close on your jaw, and he sucks gently. 

He’s danger in human form. And he knows what he’s doing, he knows how to weave words to cause your undoing. You think he’s already started weeks ago, the night of the Incident. 

Taehyung is miles away from your thoughts when you say, “You want to touch me?”

He smirks against you, licks at the spot he just sucked on. “Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?”

He moves his hand away from your stomach, and you moan softly when he parts your thighs open, resting his palm on the one closest to him as he presses it against his hard dick.

“Shit, Jungkook.”

“I know.”

You hate him. You hate him so much you slide your hand between your legs, pressing a circle on your clit.

“Good girl.”

You moan again, yet you stop your ministrations on yourself. “I want to watch you touch yourself too.”

He grunts, grinds his dick in the side of your thigh once more. “You want to see me come?”

“Want you to finger me with your cum.”

You’ve gone insane. You think there’s an asylum out there for you, yet Jungkook only chuckles manly against your jaw. “Peach, I won’t touch you tonight.” You whine, and he sucks on your jaw again. “You can do it yourself.”

He’s mad. So are you, and you untie the knot of your sweatpants so you can slide your hand in. You moan softly as you find your clit, and you dip two fingers inside of yourself before moving back to the bundle of nerves.

“Jerk yourself off,” you tell him. You try to sound commanding, dominant, but your voice is whiny. It earns you a smirk from him as he turns on his back. He takes off his pants and underwear, clearly not as shy as you. You can’t see his dick when you look down as he’s still under the covers, and you gulp as you imagine it.

Feeling bold, you push the covers off, needing to see him. And the sight doesn’t disappoint. His dick is large. Not excessively long, but the girth makes you understand why he’s got girls screaming whenever he fucks them. His tip is glistening with precum, and he runs his thumb on the slit before spreading the precum on his shaft. Large veins run along the length, from base to top, and you’re struck thinking he’s got the prettiest cock you’ve seen in your life.

“Like what you see?” he teases as he strokes his dick once, slowly but with a firm grip.

“Do you want to see me too?”

You really are bold. Far bolder than you’ve ever been with anyone before. Maybe because all of tonight Jungkook has put you at ease, and you think there’s nothing embarrassing about finally living out your fantasy. Especially not when he’s so pliable to it, willing to follow you into the land of insanity.

Scratch that – he’s the one leading to madness.

“It’s only fair if I see you too, no?” he teases with a smirk on his lips as he looks at you with his dark, intense gaze.

“Yeah.”

It’s all you say before you shimmy out of your pants. You don’t miss the way his eyes go to your hip, where you have a large dragon tattoo. He curses under his breath. “Didn’t know you were tatted.”

“Got it last semester,” you answer with a shaky voice.

He smirks up at you. “Hot.”

You gulp, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Shier than him, you keep the panties on. To your surprise, he sits up, runs his hand on the inside of your thigh before he lies down on the other side so he has a view of between your legs. His feet are next to your head, and you angle yourself away from them so that they aren’t in your face anymore.

“Touch yourself, peach.”

You nod, and you draw circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear. It’s a plain black thong, yet you feel immensely sexy when Jungkook’s doe eyes narrow dangerously as he watches you touching yourself, stroking his dick lazily.

You watch how he touches himself, heart beating out of your chest. You’re on fire, a wildfire raging through you, and you moan softly as you press harder into you.

“Why don’t you touch yourself under your panties, mmh?” he asks, gaze sliding up to meet yours before he goes back between your legs. “Won’t it feel better?”

You can’t resist him. You push your panties to the side, holding them with one hand as you go back to your clit. Your thighs instinctively want to close together, but he holds them open.

“Put your fingers in.”

You do. You push two digits in, arching them as you rub at the sweet spot inside of you. He watches, licking his lips as he increases the pace on his dick. You moan right as he grunts, the sound making shivers course up and down your spine.

“Why don’t you use your vibrator instead?”

You entirely stop moving, digits deep inside of you. “Huh?”

“I’ve heard you use a vibrator,” he explains. “I want to see you bury it in your tight little pussy.”

Your walls clench around your fingers at his crude words, and it doesn’t take any more for you to roll towards your night table so you can grab said vibrator. When you’re settled back in your previous position, you click it on, and the soft buzzing fills your room.

“Wait,” Jungkook says, stopping you before you’ve pushed your panties aside again. “Take this off.”

He pinches the fabric on your hip, over the tattoo, and all you can do is nod once before you do. He licks his lips, looking at you appreciatively through half-lidded eyes. He looks between your legs, where you just know he can see your juices glistening. Before he says anything else, you put the vibrator on your clit, legs twitching as harsh pleasure courses through you.

To your surprise, he moans, a low sound that has your pussy clench hard. Of course he sees, and he’s quick to say, “Put it in, peach.”

You obey, and you let out a breathy sound as you immediately rub your clit with your other hand. The next few minutes are a world of bliss, of pleasure and of Jungkook’s praises and grunts, entwined with your moans. You think your room is burning hot, or maybe it’s just his eyes on you. His balls are tight as he jerks off harder, faster, eyes never once moving away from the spot between your legs, where your vibrator makes squelching sounds as you push it in and out of you.

“You’re doing so well,” Jungkook tells you after you’ve moaned loudly. 

You’re nearing your high, but for some reason, you haven’t been able to hit it yet. His words bring you closer, yet it remains just barely out of touch.

“So fucking well,” he adds, breathlessly, and you notice he’s gripping his dick harder, moving so fast you barely can see his hand, except when it slows on his head with a flick of his wrist. He moans, grunts loudly. “You’re so hot, I’m going to come.”

“Fuck,” you curse as you watch him push his shirt up, and you catch sight of his defined muscles. They contract as he jerks himself off, and you think you’re drooling.

Maybe because you’re so close to hitting an orgasm that you can’t do anything other than drool.

He glances at your face once. You meet his gaze, blood boiling as you see his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes loudly. His eyelids flutter close as his eyebrows bunch up over his eyes even more, and then he moans out something that sounds like your name.

Not ‘peach’. Your full name. It makes your eyes water as you observe him, as you watch how he looks in pain. And then he curses, and your eyes fall to his dick to see white spurts of cum coming out, covering the tattoos on the back of his hand as he keeps moving, never once faltering.

Your walls clench tightly around your vibrator. You think you’re about to come, but the orgasm doesn’t want to hit, evading you frustratingly. Your motions grow inconsistent, the push and the pull of the vibrator clearly not enough for you.

As Jungkook comes down from his high, he surveys you once more, features blissed out from coming. He watches you struggle as his hand stops at the base of his dick.

“Look at the mess I made because of you,” he says, and you moan. He tilts his head to the side, pulls at his piercing, and then stops you. Puts his hand over yours between your legs as the vibrator rests deep inside of you. “Do you need help?”

You feel some of his cum as it spills from his hand to yours. You keep rubbing on your clit, meeting his gaze as he awaits your answer. “Yes.”

He smirks, and you let him grab your vibrator. He pulls it out of you, watches your juice on it with a hungry look on his features before he hands it to you again. “Put this on your clit.”

You obey, and you sigh in pleasure as he covers two of his fingers with his cum, even picking some up where it fell on his abdomen, decorating his defined abs. You know exactly what he’s going to do before he does, and it makes you curse.

He meets your gaze. “Are you on the pill?”

“IUD.”

He smirks. “Good girl.”

And then he pushes his cum-covered fingers inside of you, arching them to expertly play with your g-spot. You cry out, throwing your head back in pleasure. He fucks you with his digits for a while, and you press your vibrator hard on your clit, as if it’s going to make you come faster.

All it does is make you close your thighs on his wrist. He pulls his fingers out, forces you to spread your legs wide open again, and then circles your entrance with one finger.

“It’s so hot, to watch my cum dripping out of you.”

His digits are in again before you can reply, and he fucks you so well, you crash right into your orgasm, walls spasming around his fingers. You moan, loudly so, and tears prick at your eyes as the waves of your orgasm drown everything in you, making you shake with pleasure.

You ride the high for a long time. Longer than you’ve ever had before, and Jungkook whispers filthy praises to you all through it, until you cringe with oversensitivity and turn off the vibrator. You put it down next to you, and Jungkook pushes in and out twice more before he pulls his fingers out of you.

You remain silent for a while, both of you regaining your breath. Once you stop feeling like you’re seconds away from passing out, you prop yourself on your elbows, watching him. He’s still looking between your legs, and you instinctively close them.

His eyes shoot to your face, and he smirks. “You have no idea how hot you are with my cum dripping out of you, peach.”

You bite your lip, so hard you think you taste blood. “Shit.”

“I know.”

“What did we do?”

He shrugs, sucking on his piercing. “We made sure we’ll sleep well, that’s all.”

You sigh, nodding once before you lie back down on the bed. “Shit,” you repeat.

This time he laughs. It’s a soft sound, something that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. For some reason, it reminds you of the kiss in the kitchen, and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Even more so as he says, “Let me go get something to clean you up with.”

He pulls his boxers up and then gets up. You miss the way he winces as his feet hit the cold floor, and he’s back with a washcloth before you’ve had time to realize he was gone.

“I’m sorry, there was no hot water left.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He chuckles as he sits next to you. “Do you want to do it or…?”

You nod, and you grab the washcloth out of his hands before cleaning yourself up. It really is cold, and you wince, one eye shutting as you make sure you’re clean before handing it back to him.

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asks, a teasing tone in his voice.

“I don’t know?” 

He laughs, still grabbing it before throwing it in your hamper. “Did you want to pee before going to bed?”

You nod again. “I should.”

“Are you okay to get there?”

You roll your eyes, finally finding some of your usual defiance. “You didn’t fuck me, Jungkook, I can still use my legs.”

“Right,” he lets out before chuckling. “I’ll wait for you here then.”

The trip to the bathroom is the worst you’ve ever experienced, with how cold it is in the rest of the apartment. You’re pleased that your room is warm when you come back, and your heart squeezes in your chest as you see Jungkook lying on his side, looking at you as you enter and shut the door behind you.

He smiles warmly at you. “Better?”

“Why is it so cold?” you complain, which makes him laugh that cute, giggly laugh of his. You immediately look away from him, not wanting him to see the blush on your cheeks.

You blow the rest of the candles out, and in the dark, you make your way to your bed. You slide under the covers, sighing at how warm they are now.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Jungkook says as you settle next to him.

You gulp. “What?”

“You said you were going to go to the dorms,” he reminds you, even though that was an eternity ago. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Oh,” you let out. You’re happy it’s dark because your cheeks burn so much you imagine you’ve turned purple. “I’m glad I stayed too.”

He sighs, and you feel the mattress move as he shifts. “Do you want to cuddle?” he asks. “For warmth.”

You snort, and even though you’re in the dark, you nod. 

“Sure.”

A few seconds later, you’re the small spoon again, and he holds you close to him. He sighs once more, and it ends with a yawn that has you laugh softly.

“Tired?” you tease him.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, nuzzling his face in your hair. “I’m going to sleep like a rock.”

So are you. Even if you shouldn’t, even if you and Jungkook probably committed a big mistake tonight, you still know you’re going to sleep soundly.

Especially as his breathing evens out behind you, interrupted by soft snores here and there. It forms a melody that lulls you to the land of dreams, to a land where you can forget that he’s Taehyung’s best friend, and where you can imagine that he’s yours after all. It’s idyllic, unreal, yet your sleeping form clings to it like it’s a lifeline in a storm.

You just know that reality is bound to hit again soon.

Prev | Drabble 1 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Oooooof yep. They really did that hehehe. What did you guys think? Did you like it? Let me know!!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.5k / 20 / post-apocalypse au, part 1

...

You're injured but moving as fast as you can with your bow slung over your back. Soap is close behind you, giving chase, shouting your name as he does. Doesn't he learn? Doesn't he know you'll pull your bow on him again if he corners you?

He must know, but he's too stubborn to give up the chase. You don’t understand it.

He pushes on, just as graceful and twice as effective as you. You slip through the thick trees and their branches trailing whips of brambles. He shoves past them. You’re injured. He’s not. He's gaining, boots heavy in the soil.

"Watch yourself--!"

Your boot lands on leaf litter that falls out from under you--a pit trap. You’re moving barely fast enough for your momentum to save you from falling in. Your waist hits the edge of the pit. You brace yourself by your elbows, fingers digging into the dirt. The soft underside of your arms drag against something sharp underneath.

Soap grabs you by your coat and pulls you up out of the trap and to your feet before you can scramble out yourself. You're neither surprised nor mollified by his careful handling of you.

"Let me go!"

"Na. You're hurt. Stay still."

"Soap, I swear to God--"

"Shut up. I'm taking a look."

He holds your arm firmly with one large hand and, with the other, pulls your sleeve away from the bleeding gash. You grab his wrist with a pained curse. Whatever caught your arms—the rough wood and metal at the trap's edge—tore you bloody. Soap glares at the gash and then at you. He's close.

You could reach for your bow or for the dagger on your hip. But you know for a fact he's armed. With guns. A sniper rifle on his back and two sidearms at his belt. He knows how to use them, too. If you fight, he wins. But you know better than to back down quickly. The world is crueler than it used to be ever since things went to shit. People who show weakness don’t survive.

"Why are you following me?" you growl, your grip on his wrist tightening.

His grip on you loosens in turn when you speak. "You know why. I'm lookin' out for ya."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Aye, but you still needed it."

"You're not a soldier anymore, Soap," you retort, trying to pull your wrist away. "It's every person for themselves. Stop following me."

"That's no way to live. The world may be a shithole, but there are still folk around who'll lend you a hand even though they don't need to. Soldier or no'."

You can't get out of his grip when he's determined to keep you there, and he is. As much as you'd like to give him a matching wound for being so goddamn stubborn, the rational part of your brain--the part that makes sure you survive--knows better than to expend energy struggling when it's not strictly necessary.

"Nobody lends a hand unless they want something in return," you mutter, glaring down at your wound as he bandages it. "Even if they're pretending otherwise."

He knows you speak from experience. You're a woman, and that means you're nothing but a resource to the worst of whoever’s left. He can't blame you for being guarded. Then again, you wouldn't be making such heated statements to his face if you really thought he intended to hurt you. You're just... defensive. Hiding under all that anger. That's what he tells himself. So he ignores your grumbled protests.

"That's how you'd look at it," he finally replies as he finishes dressing the wound. "Seein' as you've not met the right people. But some of us don't expect anything back."

"You don't expect it because you think you're better than asking. But you still want it."

"Might be so." His voice is soft, gravelly, but you can hear the steel in it. "But am not asking, now am I? So stop your fussin'. You're safe. Nae need to worry." He releases your bandaged arm.

"You run your hand along the wrapping, checking it. "Fine. But I'm... I'm not coming back with you."

"Can't promise you'll be safe out there. Where do ye plan to go?"

"I don't know. Wouldn't tell you if I did."

"Aye." He rubs his jaw, examining you with flint in his blue eyes. Pressing you for an answer would be pointless. Not that you seem to be lying—but you're not telling the whole truth. The short history you share with him is just enough that he can tell. But he also knows trying to change your mind would be pointless. If you won't listen, he'd have better luck bashing his head against one of these huge, mutated oaks.

"Am nae stoppin' ya. But these woods are full of treacherous paths. If ye run into trouble—when ye run into trouble--my boys and I, we know these woods well enough to dust you off and send you in the right direction. Cannae promise to find you before somethin’ else does, though."

You're fairly sure he's not lying. His boys, as he calls them—his old squad, you think—they've made their home in these woods. It's perilous living—bears, wolves, muties, and terrain just as hazardous as the wildlife. And still those men are the most dangerous things in here.

The offer is tempting. You consider it for longer than you should, looking down at your bandaged arm again. But then you step back, shaking your head slowly. "No, thanks. I have to get going."

It tears him up inside. You're making the wrong choice. If he lets you walk away, he's letting you walk to your death.

He looks at you for a moment. You can tell he's got something more to say. But he changes his mind, stepping back as well. He pulls something from his belt and holds it out. A handgun, scuffed and black, grip held toward you. You stare at it for a second before looking back up at him. He's serious?

"I'm not gonna take that--"

"You're damn well gonna take it." His voice is low and insistent. "You think I don't know you'll run into trouble out here? Don't be a fool. I have spare. Take it."

Your one rule is don't owe anybody anything. How the fuck are you about to owe this man twice?

Fine. Whatever. It's not like you have to use it. Could just barter it. Not like you’re going to see him again. You take the gun, biting back a retort.

He nods his approval. The steely look in his eyes softens, though he still looks dismayed. "Mind where you point that. And when you pull it. Biters'll hear it for a mile and come running. Survivors, too. The curious ones." He glances at your bandaged arm one more time. Then he adjusts the bag over his shoulder and turns his back, walking away from you. Back to camp. "Am expectin' you to keep yourself alive with that," he growls. "Or else it's a lot of good time and material I wasted on ya."

"I didn't ask you to waste your breath," you retort, practically snarling at his retreating back in your irritation. You watch him go until he's disappeared into the trees. You need to make sure he doesn't plan on doubling back and following you.

Then you set off on your own. You take a winding path to throw off any trackers. Never can be too cautious. The gun in your pocket is heavy against your thigh, and you try not to think of it as a comforting security.

You came here to get Roach back, and you don’t care how long you have to wander this Godforsaken forest. You’re not leaving without him.

…

Soap feels your eyes on him until you disappear.

He wants to divorce himself from this, but he’s on edge. People who strike out on their own here come to a nasty end. But he’s not going to take away your agency by deciding what's best for you. You were right about him not being a soldier, after all. He doesn’t have the authority to herd you back to his squad’s campsite. Your life is in your own hands.

He just hopes you live to do better than he believes you will.

That night, he sleeps restlessly. Which is why, when he hears a cluster of gunshots in the distance, he wakes up instantly. It's you. In trouble.

The night watch—Gaz tonight—is already there, tossing Soap's gun to him. "You were right," Gaz says.

"Course I was," Soap says with a lopsided grin. "Owe me a ten-piece in the next poker game, aye?"

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[klausysworld]

Hiii I was wondering if you could write a klaus oneshot where the reader is enemies with klaus but klaus finds out she has cancer and is all alone and begins to fall in love with her or something like that.

I totally understand if you don’t want to do or you’re uncomfortable with it.

I’ve Got You

(This is on a very sensitive subject, please don’t read if it will upset you too much and know that if you are suffering or know someone who is, nobody is alone)

Cancer was something that had torn up Y/n’s life. It caused her to push people away all of the time. She didn’t want to be too close to anyone, not when the doctors couldn’t tell her how long she had left.

For a while they thought that the cancer had gone but she didn’t want to risk anything only for it to come back.

So she continued to be closed off, even from her own family.

Being Elena and Jeremy’s sister was hard enough, let alone growing up having cancer. Having two parents who were involved in medical care was both a dream and a nightmare. They made her live according to their timetable and their rules as to what would ‘help’. She knew, even as a child, that her family struggled much like any family would struggle to afford treatment and research and she hated herself for costing them so much.

She was kept separate from her siblings, built little to no bond with them. When her parents died, there was nobody to care for her or at least give her hope. She couldn’t afford hospital bills on her own, she had to seek out other family, like Uncle John and he did help however when he lost his life, she lost the chance of hers.

The people at the hospital knew Y/n well, they wanted to help best they could. She was supplied with medication in the form of pills to at least somewhat control the cancer and they had hope that she would be able to take part in a chemotherapy treatment program that would take place within the next year. That was as much hope as she could have to go on.

And she tried to hold onto that, she would imagine the day that they told her she would be able to live her life full without so much risk.

But at the same time, she didn’t really believe it would happen for her. Not anymore.

Sometimes she wished that a vampire would just kill her, out her out of her misery. Other times she wanted to survive everything her dreadful life threw at her and live a long healthy life to its fullest.

It was why she was so up and down with how she behaved. It was why the way she was around certain people changed so drastically, like Klaus.

Sometimes she wanted to see how many buttons she could push, she wanted to make him kill her so at least it wasn’t cancer that took her out. Other times, she just wish he’d disappear and leave both her and her family alone.

She would wonder if, had no vampires ever turned up to Mystic falls, if she would have been able to connect with her siblings some more, if Jenna would have given her some hope.

Those thoughts made her mad, but also sad. That’s when she would get snappy. Sometimes she didn’t mean to annoy him but she couldn’t help herself.

But unfortunately it made people dislike her which in some cases was a good thing because it meant people wouldn’t miss her if she did die but it also meant that she was even more alone.

Y/n was too young to deal with something so big, it was no surprise she didn’t know how to manage it. The problem was that nobody else knew how to either and so she was forced to try do it herself.

The medication she had been on since young caused an imbalance of hormones and had stunted her growth in areas. It made her hair thin and caused her to become feeble and delicate to an extent. Of course she tried her hardest to build up her strength but she wasn’t stupid, she knew it was much easier for her to become out of breath, to become exhausted or hurt. It was because of this that people like Damon would dismiss her and why she would be cast aside without any explanation. Not that she needed a reason, she already knew.

In some ways, she liked that Klaus didn’t know that she had cancer. He would be boisterous around her, tease and taunt her like he would anyone else. Because to him, she was like everyone else. She wasn’t a delicate little thing that needed to be avoided and fixed.

Sometimes he could go a little far, once he had her by the throat, cutting off her airways as he threatened her. He didn’t know that after he left she was spluttering blood all over the floor as she coughed and wheezed for air. She struggled for it anyway, she didn’t like someone taking it from her. But she never said anything to him, of course she was a little more cautious but she enjoyed pissing him off when she could.

When she was little, kids were cruel. If she wanted to play, they would give her funny looks and say they didn’t want to play with her. They acted like she was contagious, or an alien. She hated it.

So even if Klaus’s attention was ill intended, at least it was directed at her.

————————————————————————

Klaus originally saw her as another inconvenience. He met her when he was in Alarics body, when he went over to the Gilbert’s house to harass Jenna and frightened the others. Turns out their sister Y/n also hadn’t been clued in on who he really was. She had wondered down the stairs still in her pyjamas, smiling subtly at him and going to the cupboard to grab some biscuits. Once she had sat down and began munching, Stefan was storming in and telling her and Jenna to run. At that point Y/n just looked tired and begrudgingly got dragged out the house by a hysterical Jenna.

The next time was at a hospital after he had taken Elena from senior prank night. She was sat in the waiting room, lead across the seats as though she had been there hours. He came and sat beside her, spoke to her and told her to tell Damon to never threaten him again. She agreed without compulsion and kept her trap shut about anything else.

The following few times he saw her, she was less tired and more firey. That’s when he began to take a strange liking to her. She always had something to snap back at him no matter how dark the last thing he said was.

Somehow she seemed to know exactly how to make him tick. Knew how to tease him enough to make him want her to shut up but not enough to physically make her. Though occasionally she went too far and he would break.

Sometimes he felt a weird sensation of guilt swirling inside him, he never knew what to do about that. He didn’t enjoy that.

When she became tired, she was moody and would say things to purposely make him angry. And klaus’s anger management had never been great. He didn’t always mean to react to quick and harshly but he couldn’t help it. Especially when he didn’t understand why she was so angry sometimes.

He knew that she was very much seen as irrelevant when it came to her siblings and the Salvatore’s etc. He couldn’t understand why exactly, she was not less useful than Elena was as far as he could see. Still he didn’t ask or dig on it, it didn’t matter to him if she was apart of the little gang or not. She seemed to hang around him anyway.

He took an amount of joy in their playful banter and teasing nature when around each other. He also liked to push at her buttons the same way she did his. But he wasn’t as good at knowing how far he could go, often she would end up storming off and he’d be left feeling guilty and there’d frustrate which lead to annoyance and anger.

————————————————————————

Klaus hadn’t once guessed that the reason for her mood swings or her pushed to the side nature was due to cancer.

He hadn’t been expecting to see her name on labels of samples of blood.

He was in the hospital for blood obviously, even though he drank mostly straight from the vein, with all his hybrids and his busy schedule sometimes blood bag was easier.

He happened to come across the samples and spotted a familiar name. His curiosity peeked. Of course he originally guessed that it was just normal things like she had given blood or that she had low iron. But something within him told him to look further.

So he began to compel people to get him her files and information. But turns out he didn’t need to, as soon as he said her name the receptionist was yapping on.

“Oh the poor girl, in and out of here since she was just a toddler” she began, sighing and clicking for Y/n’s name on the computer.

“Really?” He questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Uhuh, next appointment is…oh! Tomorrow” she smiled and Klaus nodded pretending to know

“Right for..”

“Collection and a check up” she smiled and turned around to find something, a bag. She placed the paper back infront of him with contained the prescription pills that would control the cancer to some level. He smiled back at her though it didn’t reach his eyes and picked up the packet, reading what they were and what they did.

His heart dropped a little and he hesitantly handed them back to the receptionist. “Thank you, I’d take them to her but if she has a check up tomorrow anyway then I expect it’s easier if she get them herself” he muttered, his voice quiet as he felt a strange sadness forming somewhere inside him.

“Of course” the woman answered “Will you be with her tomorrow?” She asks with the tilt of her head.

“I might be” he replied, unsure and she nodded slightly back

“I’m sure she’d like it if you did, nobodies been with her for a scan for over a year now” she sighed and his heart ached.

He left shortly after and tried to find her. Eventually he found her, much to his surprise, at his house. She was sat on his sofa with a glass of wine and one of his hybrids, chatting about whatever. Without caring he made his way over and grabbed her by the arm.

“Klaus!” She yelped as he began to pull her away from the hybrid.

“He just wants to drain you love, come on upstairs” he murmured, pushing her up the stairs and grabbing the bottle of wine from the table.

“Well he might just be nice” she muttered

“Perhaps but I don’t like the odds” he replied as he pulled her into his room

“Right, because you care if he kills me” she grumbled and his stomach turned uncomfortably. No longer did the joking of her death amuse him like it once did.

When she noticed his silence and the look he had in his eyes, she knew that he knew. It was stupid look of pity that everyone had and that slightly uncomfortable stance because they don’t know how to act around her anymore.

She sighed and glanced to the floor and then him. “Can you not?” She whispered and he frowned confused

“Not what-“

“Oh don’t do that. I know you know. Its fine. I’ve had it forever you don’t have to be weird” she mumbled as she sat on his bed, laying back and staring up at the ceiling tiredly.

“I don’t know what-“

“Cancer Klaus. It’s not a scary word, it’s not Voldemort” she grumbled

“What-?” He questioned confused

“Doesn’t matter it’s not the point” she whispered and he frowned

“You never said anything about it” he muttered as he sat beside her.

“It’s not really the best conversation topic. Plus we’re not that close” she mumbled

“Well…you’re in my bed so I’ve done something right” he joked lightly and she smiled

“I guess so” she whispered.

Klaus laid down beside Y/n quietly. It was a little odd to be so close to her without either of them having ill intentions. He did feel bad though that he made her uncomfortable but he couldn’t help but act a little off. His mind had been replaying every time he had hurt her, he wondered how much it had endangered her life.

It confused him as to why he had this care for her. He couldn’t have cared less about week ago if she had been killed but knowing that she actually, most likely, would die much sooner than expected made him feel something. To know that she was living in pain and fear of when it would catch up to her.

Klaus was a man who liked control, he couldn’t imagine having something like cancer hanging over his life everyday acting as a threat ever time she breathed.

“So you-“

“I don’t wanna talk about it” she mumbled, cutting him off. He fell into silence and sighed softly.

Y/n stared at the ceiling, wishing it would fall on her in this moment. She hated that he knew. Of course she didn’t exactly hide it from him but she also didn’t want him to know. Not because it was something she was embarrassed of, or because she feared he would used it against her. Simply because it meant there was one more person who would look at her like she was incapable and weak. She didn’t want to be stared at like an animal at a zoo by anyone else.

She’d rather he be cruel to her and tell her how pathetic she was just for being a human. She’d rather he scare her and hurt her like he did everyone else in town than look at her like he was now.

She felt her eyes drain of the life that they usually held when around Klaus. With a lump forming in her throat and a heavy weight of disappointment on top of her, she pushed herself up and got off his bed.

“I’m gonna go home” she muttered, ignoring the way he sat up and looked after her with worry.

“Love-“ he called, standing up to follow her as she made her way down his stairs.

“I don’t want to talk, I want to go home” she huffed.

“Sweetheart-“

“Shut up Klaus” she snapped “stop calling me cute little names and looking at me like I’m a three-legged puppy! You don’t like me, I’m annoying and useless to you” she sighed, her voice becoming desperate and she hated how pathetic she sounded.

“You’re dying” he whispered

“Everyone’s dying” she mumbled “I’m just doing it faster” before leaving his house, closing the door behind her.

Klaus left her alone for a little while, and she avoided him also.

He did however go back to the hospital after she had her most recent scan. He compelled the surgeon to show he what was happening, where it was and what that meant. He wanted to know why she wasn’t getting more help, they told him there was very little chance of her surviving even with chemotherapy. Klaus argued they should still try and they informed him of the treatment trial coming up in two months time. Demands were made, he would pay for everything and they would tell her that she qualified to have it free. He didn’t really care what lie they told her just so long as she accepted it.

And she did, Klaus received a phone call telling him so.

Klaus still had no explanation for his sudden change of heart, why he wanted her to get better so badly. He didn’t know why, he just did.

He felt a little sad that she wouldn’t hang around him anymore. Not many people willingly spoke to him, even if it was just some teasing and playful banter. He missed it.

When she had her first dosage of chemo, he found himself in her hospital room. It upset him that nobody had come with her or shown any care at all.

Klaus quietly wondered through the hospital, it was halfway into the night and quiet as he searched for her room. His expression softened when he saw her curled up in a bed, the machine beside her beeping quietly. A singular rose was placed beside her bed as he pulled a chair over to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek softly. It was an odd gesture coming from the hybrid but he tried not to dwell on it as he sat beside her for a while.

Klaus came back during the night as her treatment continued, he would leave her a rose and often a note. He would never know how much it meant to her.

One night he ran his fingers through her hair, only for a handful of strands to come out with his hand. His eyes had enlarged as he quickly put it in the bin and gently lifted to her head to find a clump of hair on her pillow. He didn’t want her to find it in the morning and be upset and so removed it himself.

He didn’t mean to wake her up. She knew it was him without a doubt when she felt her face against someone’s chest. She could hear his soft muttering and the sound of his hand behind her head. It took her a minute to figure out what he was doing and when the realisation hit her she just stared at his chest exhausted. Y/n could remember when all her hair fell out the first time, when she was little and the other kids would poke fun while the parents would tell her how brave she was while staring at her with that helpless, pitiful face. She didn’t want to see it on Klaus’s face as well so she pretended to stay asleep.

After a moment he laid her back down and pulled the blanket back up. “There we go” he murmured softly as he smoothed it over “it’s all going to be just fine” he whispered, stroking her arm gently. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady until he left, she couldn’t stop the tears rolling after he was gone. She hated feeling sorry for herself all of the time but it seemed she could never catch a break.

It wasn’t long before she was back home, still on chemo but home. Jeremy was living in Denver and Elena basically lived at the Salvatores so Y/n had the house to herself. She didn’t go out much, she never really had. She only did recently to annoy Klaus but she didn’t want to be around him anymore either so she found that staying inside was better.

However Klaus had different ideas and so wound up on her doorstep, nocking incessantly until she answered.

“Finally love, you and me worried” he sighed and she narrowed her eyes

“What do you want?” She snapped, she was wrapped up in a blanket and wore a hat on her head. Klaud wasn’t sure if it was because she was cold or because she had given in and shaved her head.

“It’s lovely to see you too” he smiled sarcasticly and she glared. “I wanted to see how you were doing” he answered.

“I’m doing fine. How are you doing?” She replied stiffly

“Ah you know…family troubles” he mumbled and she hummed

“Elijah?” She question

“All of them” Klaus muttered “three brothers, a sister and a mother. I can only be glad I’ve already killed my father…though that didn’t stop mother”

Y/n let out a breathy laugh and glance down “I’ll grab my shoes and we’ll talk and walk.” She told him before closing the door. Klaus smiled to himself as he waited a second before she came out ready. She was completely wrapped up, hat gloves coat. Still he didn’t ask, just remained happy to be with her.

They spoke about the sudden arrival of his family and the ball. He said he hoped she would come but her silence wasn’t convincing.

“You don’t have to” he told her “I know you don’t like people and you barely like me enough” he smiled and she returned it weakly.

“I don’t really think it’s a good idea” she mumbled and he nodded, of course he was a little disappointed but he wasn’t exactly surprised either.

“Then perhaps you’ll have to give me a dance another time?” He offered and she shrugged playfully with a smile

“I might be able to come for just one dance, but I go home straight after?” She compromised and he grinned

“Perfect” he whispered and cupped her face. The smile soon vanished from his lips as he felt how hot her skin was to touch “you’re burning” he mumbled before unzipping her coat and pulling her hat off. Immediately she made a sound of upset and grabbed for the hat. His eyes softened as she stared at him with a mixture of emotions.

She wanted to die. That was it. She wanted the cancer to take her in that moment. Stupid Klaus. She wasn’t sure why having no hair made her feel so bad, she had a nice shaped head but her past experience with peoples reactions caused her to hate it.

“Put it back” she whimpered but he shook his head. His hands gently pulled her coat off and then her gloves.

“You have a fever, you’re boiling, I’m taking you home” he told her as he leant down and lifted her up. She looked at him like he was crazy, she didn’t understand what kind of bond they had or what feelings they held for eachother. She didn’t why he would like her of all people. Was it pity? She hoped not, she’d be so pissed off it was.

“Fevers are normal” she mumbled “you don’t gotta worry”

“Normal or not, it’s best we get rid of it so that it doesn’t hurt you” he answered as he carried her towards her house. She couldn’t help but smile a little when he said ‘we’. In a way it reminded her of how her parents would care her and tell her that it was something they would all get through.

He felt her relax a little in his hold and glanced down to see her looking up at him with a lost look in her eye as he approached her door.

“I can’t come in but I trust that you’ll know how to cool off? I can take you to my house otherwise” he told her as he placed her down and passed her things back to her as she got inside.

“I’ll be fine, thank you” she told him with a small smile before closing the door.

Later that day she received a package containing a dress, shoes that matched and a silver necklace with her birthstone hanging from it. She smiled a little and put it somewhere safe ready for the next evening.

Then she continued to settle her fever and take a nap. She woke back up, watched a few films, messaged Klaus to let him know she was okay now, and finally took her meds when she ate her dinner before going to sleep.

In the morning she continued her everyday routine and lounging around until it was only a couple hours before the ball that the mikaelsons were throwing. She had argued with herself all day whether she should go. She knew people would talk, seeing the cancer kid with Klaus Mikaelson. Not that it was date. No no. That would be weird…

Eventually she decided she would go, dance the first dance and then go home. She just hoped that the exhaustion wouldn’t hit her too hard while she was out or that she wouldn’t fall sick until she got back home.

Y/n never got to go to events like Elena and Jeremy did when she was little, but her mother would dress her up when she was in the house sometimes to make her feel happy and pretty for a day. That was the only way she knew what she was doing when it came to her face. She had stolen some from Elena’s room as she only had the basics for herself.

She put on everything he had given her and looked in the mirror. Her hands touched her head with a small sigh before she called a cab that took her to the mansion.

She stood outside it for a few minutes, unsure whether she should just turn around and walk in. Klaud didn’t give her that option when he came wondering outside, his eyes looking around for her hopefully. She smiled a little to herself and began to walk towards him, his gaze met hers halfway and he quickly flashed beside her.

“You came” he whispered, pulling her in for an unexpected hug. He pulled back and cleared his throat “sorry” he muttered awkwardly before grabbing her hand and leading her inside. “You look gorgeous by the way, you always look gorgeous but…not that- “

“Thank you” she cut him off with a smile and squeezed his hand in appreciation. “Am I late? I didn’t mean to stand there for so long” she asked quietly, glancing around and seeing the entire town moving around his home.

“It’s okay, the first dance only just started” he told her, leading her further inside.

“I never really learned to dance” she whispered nervously

“That’s alright” he murmured “I’ve got you” he told her and she believed him.

She let him guide her throughout the dance, she kept her eyes on him and tried to ignore any stares. Klaus kept her close and offered a death glare to anyone who even glanced their way. Time flew, they danced for nearly six full songs before he felt her body go momentarily limp to his. Thankfully his arm was around her waist already so he kept her up. She regained her balance in seconds but it was clear that something was wrong.

“I’m going to take you upstairs, alright love?” He murmured to her but she shook her head

“I can’t do the stairs…I’m dizzy” she whispered and he nodded

“I know, I didn’t expect you to walk up them” he told her before gently tugging her away from the people. They walked straight past Elijah and Elena talking, both turned to face them with looked of confusion and surprise as Klaus told her to let him help her. He kept upright so that nobody would know she was being carried as he supported her weight up each step. Once at the top they walked past Finn and Esther, his mother eyed the girl with that same pity as most and shook her head at Finn in a way that told him to leave them alone as Klaus lead her into his room carefully.

He laid her down on his bed, propping her up with pillows and cupping her face gently. Her eyes focused on his as his cool hands soothed her skin.

“You feel okay love?” He asked softly

“Yeah I’m ok” she nodded as her head began to settle. She felt a little nauseous but less faint. “I should go home” she mumbled, pushing herself up but he shook his head and laid her back down.

“Stay here tonight love, I’ll look after you” he told her

“Can’t, gotta have my meds” she muttered and he nodded

“I’ll go get them okay? You stay in here, find a shirt of mine to wear to bed and I’ll go get your pills.” He decided, standing up

“Klaus…you’re not invited in” she whispered and he sighed

“Then I’ll go to the hospital and get some, I know what you need”

“It’s easier if I go home” she argued

“I want you here” he told her seriously and with a sigh she nodded.He nodded in return and stroked her face, and her smooth head gently. “You can wear whatever you like okay?” He smiled and she nodded, watching as he left.

Klaus quickly made his way out the room, rushing down the stairs and out the house. Stopping for only a second to tell Elijah to keep people downstairs.

Once he was back from the hospital with her medication she was wrapped in his duvet, dressed in his shirt and her panties with no makeup left on her face while scrolling through Netflix on his TV. He smiled at the sight and close the door behind him with a click. Her head lifted to see him and he made his way over with the bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“Thank you Klaus” she whispered gratefully as she swallowed a pill before handing back the glass which he placed on a coaster on his bedside table.

He grabbed a shirt and some plaid pants before disappearing into his conjoined bathroom. He remerged from the room in a couple minutes ready for sleep. He had a sofa in his room, a mini fridge and everything. Y/n wandered if he ever actually had to leave his room.

Klaus opened a cabinet filled with blankets and pillows and pulled a couple out and setting up a bed on the couch making Y/n frown a little, guilt and confusion swirling.

“You done have to sleep there” she told him “You could sleep here if you want…or I could go on the sofa, I don’t mind” she offered, slipping out of the bed and making her way to the couch but he spun her straight back around and lead her back to bed.

“Under no circumstances will you not be in that bed” he told her, a level of authority in his tone as he put her to bed. “I don’t want to disturb your sleep by stealing half the bed” he teased.

“No it’s okay, I like sharing” she smiled and he raised a brow as he sat down infront of her.

“Oh? Do you share beds often?” He teased with narrowed eyes. Klaus didn’t like the thought of Y/n sleeping with anyone but himself. Even if it was just a nap.

“No” she whispered, her cheeks bushing pink “sometimes when I was sick my mom would sleep with me” she shrugged and he smiled.

“I doubt I’ll be anything like your mother sweetheart” he chuckled and she rolled her eyes

“Oh just come lay down, you know that’s not-“

“I know, I know” he murmured playfully as he laid beside her. She huffed out a breath dramatically and he grinned, pulling her against him. It was strange to be so close to him, teasing and laughing again. She liked it though, and so did he.

Klaus shifted himself under the duvet and pulled it around them. He hadn’t had a girl in his bed for a while, especially the past few months. All he could think of was her so why would he want some other woman? It had been even longer since he had a girl in his bed with no expectations of sex. That hadn’t happened in decades.

Something about it was nice, innocent.

Y/n on the other hand had never shared a bed with a man, never been touched or ever really thought that a guy would want to touch her. She didn’t think Klaus would either, especially not when she looked like she did. She’d lost a lot of weight from the chemo, her stamina was low, she bruised easy and she had no hair which threw most boys off. Boys her own age at least. Not Klaus.

He couldn’t have cared less about something so simplistic. Sure, she had pretty hair at one point but it didn’t define her. He liked her as she was, of course he wanted her to be cancer free and happy but he’d still love her while she wasn’t.

Love. Was it too strong of a word? He wasn’t sure.

Especially not when he was looking at her like he was now. Seeing her so openly vulnerable and curled up against him, sleepy eyes set on the tv and her body hidden under the quilt though he could feel her legs touching his.

It wasn’t long before they were snuggled up and half asleep. She was barely conscious when Elijah’s head popped into the room to check on Niklaus. The brothers had a brief conversation on how the night went, Elijah expressed his caution around their mother Klaus said he couldn’t be bothered with it anymore. Elijah left when Y/n began to stir and Klaus’s focus became her.

He slept with her throughout the night, he woke to find her missing and his heart sank. Thankfully she wondered back in from the bathroom a few minutes later and crawled back to bed with a yawn. Klaus’s lips upturned and he pulled her close again. She looked up at him with a small smile which grew when their eyes met.

“Hi” she whispered and he smiled

“Hi” he uttered back, pulling her as close to his side as he could before she was under him. She glanced to the time, seeing it was still really early. She groaned softly and closed her eyes. Klaus hummed softly and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek bones softly. “You look so pretty” he whispered.

Her cheeks tinted red and she rolled onto her side to hide her face from him but it only resulted in him spooning her. He kissed the back of her head making her go redder and her fingers to hold onto the sheets beneath. Klaus pressed close to her, too close. The second she felt something hard against her backside her body went tense and she panicked. Klaus felt her fear and quickly pulled himself away from her but she was already getting out of bed.

“I have to go, I’m sorry” she whispered, heading for the door but he sped infront of her.

“Love-“

“I gotta go”

“Let me drive you, and at least give you something to wear” he mumbled, disappointed with himself for scaring her. She nodded when she realised she was still in just her underwear and his shirt. He sped into Rebekah’s room which was unsurprisingly empty as she had ended up staying the night in Damon Salvatores bed.

He came back and she pulled the jeans on before he drove her home. It was quiet and he hated that he’d ruined the night. He should have thought about it and known she wouldn’t want that, he hadn’t intended to do anything other than sleep but she was so close and he couldn’t help but want. His desire always won though in this case it made him lose big time.

He apologised quietly when she got out the car and she told him it was okay and that she overreacted. Neither of them were particularly pleased with how they responded.

Y/n thought about how the moment could have played out a hundred times over and kicked herself for not just letting him have her. But she knew she would have regretted it.

They both decided to pretend the incident didn’t happen when they saw eachother next. Klaus had turned up on her doorstep that same night, it was clear he had been crying but she mention it. She wrapped her arms around him as he told her that his family had left again and that his mother wanted him dead. She ended up back in his bed, using his chest as a pillow once more.

In fact she ended up in his house, his bed a lot. Especially as her chemo treatment continued, when she wasn’t in hospital he managed to coax her to his house.

“I enjoy our sleepovers” he teased making her bite back a smile and glare playfully.

“Technically you don’t even need sleep” she reminded and he rolled his eyes.

“Well I like sleeping with you” he murmured with a wink and she laughed.

For a little while, things seemed to be getting better. She felt happier and somewhat healthier. She was more confident in herself when Klaus was around, he helped her see her beauty and her worth. For a moment she truly believed that everything would be better.

But things could never just be so simple.

At the end of her chemotherapeutic treatment, she went into the hospital as expected. Klaus didn’t go with her this time, Y/n had told him that the appointment wasn’t for another week because she wanted good news as a surprise.

How she wished it was good news.

She knew as soon as she saw the nurses face. When she told her that the treatment hadn’t worked the way they hoped, she just nodded and asked how much she owed. They shook their heads and reminded her that it was ‘free’ and she went home.

All this had done was just confirm that she wouldn’t live even half of what everyone else would. A quarter if she was lucky.

Vampire blood couldn’t save her, magic couldn’t save her. She just had to accept it and live with it for however long.

That wasn’t even the hard part for her, the hard part was telling Klaus.

After her appointment she went back to his home. He wasn’t in but she went up to his room anyway, besides it was basically her soon now too.

She stared at the bed, god she loved that bed. It was like a cloud and when she had Klaus holding her tight aswell? She only hoped heaven would be similar.

She tapped her fingers against her arm as she thought. With a sigh she went and had a shower, got back out and stared at herself in the full length mirror that Klaus had in his bathroom for whatever reason. She smiled and laughed through her nose at the thought.

Y/n had a lot of clothes at Klaus’s now, she pulled on one of the only actual sets of underwear she owned and sat down on the bed. She adjusted the straps on her bra for a few minutes and fiddled with her panties so they sat how she wanted them to.

Klaus was home shortly after and made his way upstairs to his room. His breath got caught in his throat the second he saw her.

They teased eachother and made little jokes about sex, they both entertained the idea in their heads but he never actually thought she would be the one to make the move.

He didn’t know what the final push was that made her give in but he wouldn’t push it away.

Within seconds he was on that bed, gently pushing her down onto her back and hovering over her. His lips met hers in a deep passion that heated them both. Her legs were nudged apart so he could lay between them. She kissed him back with as much love as should had in an effort to make him understand how much he meant to her.

His hands stroked up her sides gently, holding her waist perfectly. His mouth pressed to hers repeatedly before moving down to her neck. Y/n’s eyes kept shut as she felt the soft tingle of every touch, her hands slid down and unbuckled his belt. She pulled it through the loops with a tug and pushed it aside.

Klaus pulled back and looked down at her hands, he gently took them in his hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the backs of them. “We don’t need to rush, we have all the time in the world” he whispered, the words made her eyes prick with tears but she held them back.

“I know…I just need you now” she told him quietly making him smile. He leant back down and kissed from her collarbone down. Y/n watched as goosebumps lined her skin and his hands slid her panties down her legs slowly so that she had the option to stop him.

He pressed soft kisses to her knees and then up along her thighs. His hands caressed her legs gently as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her pussy. Y/n’s body jerked away from his mouth at the unfamiliar feeling and he smiled.

“It’s alright love, I’ve got you” he told her before running his tongue through her folds and up to her clit. Her legs went over his shoulder as her hands went to his hair, feeling the soft curls as her body filled with heat. Klaus rest his head against one of her thighs so he could look up at her as his tongue flicked gently at her little button. Her brows pulled together and a soft sound escaped her as she felt his teasing.

“Klaus” she whispered softly, a slightly tremble in her voice as his fingers made their way up and gently traced her pussy lips. He hummed quietly in response, letting the gentle vibrations tickle her nerves pleasantly. The words ‘I love you’ were on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t utter them, not yet. She worried that he would want to know why she chose now to tell him, why now to give herself to him. And if he did find out why, everything would be ruined.

A shaky breath left her and she put her focus back on him. She pulled at his soft hair gently, telling him to give her more and he eagerly obliged. He slipped a finger into her halfway, moving it slowly to help ease the foreign feeling upon her. His tongue still licked at her clit, though now with a little more pressure.

Her back arched a little and a breathy moan left her lips making him push his finger in so it was knuckle deep before pulling it out with a slight curve. He watched her tighten around nothing as her hips rolled a little to try get his touch back inside her.

“Do you like how it feels love?” He murmured with a kiss to her clit. She nodded and pulled at his curls gently.

“I do” she whispered “I love it” she confirmed and he smirked a little.

“I love it too” he smiled and sucked her clit into his mouth making her squirm and moan his name. She inhaled deeply and leant her head back against the pillows and two fingers began to stretch her open as they pushed in as far as they could’ve.

She took soft but long breaths as her body filled with heat and her hips ground her pussy against his fingers as they curled into her and found her spot. Her back curved off the bed and he smiled to himself, happy to bring her pleasure.

His fingers met the thrusts of her hips and his tongue lay flat against her clit, letting her rub against it as quick as she needed. A soft cry left her and her pussy squeezed his fingers tightly, her thighs squished his head making him chuckle and suck on her softly. He pulled away before she could come undone and pulled her down the bed so her legs were at his hips instead.

He leant down to kiss her lips making her wrinkle her nose and dodge him.

“Sweetheart, you can’t deny my kisses now” he murmured as she wriggled.

“You can’t kiss me after that” she whined and he laughed

“You taste lovely” he teased

“I’m good not knowing” she laughed and he narrowed his eyes before attacking her with kisses all over her face making her squeal and push at his chest playfully. Eventually he caught her lips and had her succumb to the kiss. A soft moan escaped her and he smiled.

“Can I keep going love?” He asked softly as he used one of his hands to undo his jeans. She nodded kissed his jaw softly, her eyes fluttering as she felt his bare legs against hers. Her body tensed for a moment as his cock rest against her thigh and her hand gripped his shoulder. “I’ll be slow” he whispered, “don’t worry Y/n”.

She nodded again and tightened her legs round his waist. Klaus cupped the back of her head with one hand while the other guided his tip into her weeping hole. She whimpered at the stretch and he kissed her cheek, holding her close.

She nuzzled close and clung to him as he pushed another two inches into her and gently rocked in and out of her, getting another inch into her with each thrust until eventually she took all of him. He stayed they for a while, stroking away the little tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes and kissing her lips softly.

“It’s okay love” he told her gently, “you know I’ve got you”

She nodded weakly and kept her face in the crook of his neck as he began to move again. Soft little moans slipped past her lips and vibrated against his throat as he thrust into her slowly. His hips moved perfectly to stroke all the right places inside her.

Y/n’s hands held onto him tightly, so did her pussy.

Klaus kissed her skin gently as he rocked into her, his hand slid down between their bodies and he began to stroke her swollen clit. She let out a little cry and he grunted as his cock was squeezed.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” he murmured as he began to speed up. His eyes closed as he focused on pleasing her body, he could hear the repeated sound of his skin meeting hers along with the whimpers that tumbled past her mouth. He could feel her body growing tired and knew she wouldn’t be able to go on much more. He stroked her skin soothingly while his other hand rubbed quick circles on her pretty clit.

Her body tensed and she cried his name as her body let go around his. Klaus hugged her close as he thrust into her slowly, his hips came to a stop and she panted softly for air. He kissed her lips softly and pulled out. His hand stroked his cock quickly and he squeezed it tightly until he came onto her stomach. She moaned softly and tugged at him for a kiss.

His lips pressed to hers lovingly and rolled onto his back, pulling her ontop of him. Y/n smiled down at him and caressed his chest gently.

“I love you” she whispered and his heart warmed even more

“I love you too” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and sitting up. He stood up with her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and brought them both under the warm water.

“I can stand” she mumbled and he hummed but didn’t put her down. Instead he kept ahold of her as he helped clean them both off. She leant against him, her head in his neck as he wrapped a towel big enough to be a double duvet. He kissed her head and dried them off before setting her back on his bed. He pulled one of his shirts over her head and pulled some panties up her legs. “Thank you” Y/n whispered with a smile.

“Of course” he smiled back and laid beside her in his sleep pants. Klaus held her to him, his lips pulled up in contentment and he closed his eyes. He held her close they slept and woke up early to prepare breakfast.

Klaus wanted this relationship to be right. He wanted to treat her like he knew he could and show that he meant his love for her. So he went downstairs and cooked up some pancakes and bacon for his girl. He plated it up and poured them both drinks, he set the table for them and made his way back upstairs.

His movements faltered for a moment as he heard the sound of gagging. Hurriedly he made his way to the bathroom to see her heaving over the toilet. Quickly he kneeled beside her and caressed her back, her hand reached for tissue as she wiped her mouth, dumping the tissue ontop of her sock and flushing the toilet. He helped her up and wrapped his arms around her waits from behind as she brushed her teeth. She apologised quietly but he shook his head and kissed her cheek.

“I got you something love” he told Y/n softly before leading her downstairs. She looked up at him with a soft look in her eyes as he pulled out her seat at the table. She sat down and smiled as he pushed her in and sat opposite her with his food also.

“You know you didn’t have to?” She whispered softly and Klaus hummed

“Of course I did” he answered “I’ll always look after you”

Y/n’s smile wavered a little but she pulled back together. They ate their food and she helped him clean up. After they got dressed and he started to talk. When Klaus starts talking he doesn’t tend to stop until he absolutely has to.

Usually Y/n didn’t mind his rants and rambles but this time it was about them. He started going on about all the things they could do together and how once her cancer was gone then they would go wherever she wanted and he went on and on. After a while however, Y/n just couldn’t help it.

Her eyes had been watering for a full twenty minutes and as soon as the first tear fell, well it was like a waterfall. Klaus’s face dropped within seconds and his heart sunk. Panic flooded him and he quickly pulled her into his lap. He tried to calm her but had no idea what was wrong to begin with. Well not at first.

She tried to leave, push him away like she knew she should have at the start. He wouldn’t let her though. Not now. He had to block the exit, ended up yelling for her to tell him what was wrong. Instead of an actual answer she told him that she didn’t want to be with him, she began to say hurtful things. She needed him to not love her. Not if there was no hope of living. She didn’t want to leave him missing her, she would rather he hated her and was glad she was gone. Or at least that’s how she thought in that moment.

Klaus was never good when it came to emotions. He didn’t understand the sudden change of heart, the hatred that suddenly blossomed. But he knew something was wrong, she didn’t look angry or disgusted by him like she tried to claim she was. She just looked scared and borderline devastated.

He stared at her for a while and she didn’t dare say anything else. Klaud didn’t want to believe it to begin with. But it was the only thing that made sense. With slight hesitation he stepped to her, he overpowered her shoving hands and forced her into a hug. It only took a moment for her to collapse into it, cries shaking through her without a break.

“I’m gonna take you everywhere” he mumbled softly, kissing her smooth head continuously. She made a sound of distress and she shushed her gently “anywhere you want sweetheart. It doesn’t matter how long we have, I will not have you live it alone and in self-pity” he argued and she shook.

He picked her up and sat down with her on the sofa, he grabbed a world map and brought it over to her. “Come on love, you choose somewhere and I’ll get us in a plane, have you ever flown?” He asked, swallowing any tears or sadness down. Right now he just needed to keep her with him. He would go anywhere, do anything to ensure that she was happy for however long she had to live.

“We can’t just-“

“Yes we can. We will. We don’t even have to pack, I’ll buy you everything new from wherever we go. Just pick a continent, we’ll do a country from each and see how you’re feeling before we go again” he whispered, desperation seeping into his tone.

“You’re making it worse for yourself” she uttered, wiping her tears.

“It’ll be a hundred times worse if I’m not with you” he argued, a tear dropping from his lashes.

They both went quiet and let the situation fully dawn on them for a little while. Finally Y/n glanced to the map. “I’ve always heard Europe was pretty” she mused quietly and Klaus wiped his eyes, pulling a smile onto his face as he pulled her close and kissed the side of her head.

“It’s beautiful. I’ll call for a private jet and we shall leave in a few hours. Would you like to tell your family that you’ll be away?” He asked but she shook her head no. “Then please, just trust me my love?”

“I do…and I’m sorry for-“

“Don’t be. Just know that I love you and that I will always have you no matter what” he told her, a kiss to her lips to seal the promise.

“I love you” she uttered, they repeated it back to one another as she made her way into his lap and rest her face in his neck.

Everything else was forgotten.

The doppelgänger, hybrids, Salvatore’s, Mikaelsons. They would all have to wait.

[paulic]

Ok this is what I think the biopics will be like for each Beatle:

John will be so troubled but in a really charming way and Julian will be mentioned but briefly and they’ll make it seem like John was just too busy to be a present father (Paul will make up for it in a vomit inducingly cheesy way). His eating disorder, heroin addiction and other internal struggles (self-esteem, sexuality, maybe even gender,…) will go unmentioned or brushed over jokingly like haha he tossed Brian off, don’t we all at that age. He’ll be the cool and funny older brother & later genius who just couldn’t be confined within a band. They won’t have the guts to call his bullshit and therefore will automatically brush over his kinder and vulnerable sides. He’ll be reduced to a knock off version of the tortured artist blueprint. They’ll never pick up on his pathetic wet dog vibe

Paul will be the charming good guy who’s all in with the band. No mention of how he fucked over Jane and every other girl until Linda; he’ll be a musical genius, too, but in a prince of the people sort of way. They’ll loooove that he stopped eating meat, woke king!!!! Linda will be brushed over by making her into his soulmate wifey who finally helps the charming playboy with a heart of gold settle down. His depression and alcohol problem won’t be mentioned/reduced to feeling a little sad. He’ll be a little bossy sometimes but they won’t ever get it right how fucking annoying he could be. Straighter than a ruler. John’s brother, almost biologically. No homo. They’ll find a way to make the twink who fucked the entire population and had an ego bigger than Neptune into a straight feminist

George will be the indie underground smart Beatle and people on tik tok will start posting thirst traps of the actor with the caption “they don’t make em like this anymore” and then complain about real-George’s teeth. He’ll be so spiritual and smart and he won’t have an affair with his best friend’s wife at all and if he does it’ll be because of some spiritual insight, not because that man couldn’t keep it in his pants for 5 seconds. I’m deadly afraid of the colourful drug scenes where he’ll hallucinate god. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend and Pattie will be played by Sidney sweeney or something. They won’t take a side with the whole George Or Paul debate during the breakup, but George will be too focused on other things to want to stay in the Beatles. They won’t mention the three billion songs John&Paul deemed unworthy. They’ll never do the grudges my man held justice. No one could

Ringo will be the funny guy who luckily survived his childhood and found his passion through a kind nurse giving him his drumsticks. He’ll play an incredible drum solo at 8 years old on his hospital bed frame the first time he ever holds those sticks. He won’t be in gangs, he won’t beat his wife half to death, he won’t have drugs and alcohol problems. He’ll be peace and love from age 0. He’ll be slightly stupid and he’ll mention octopuses too much. They’ll never get it right how he was truly the eldest and how much his vote and opinion actually counted within the band and how much the boys wanted him in the band and admired him. He won’t be a sort of glue to the band. He won’t marry a teenager he met when she was 16 and he 22. He’ll be a weird version of Ken from the Barbie movie, his job will be Drum. They’ll flatten a severely nuanced and layered man to a sheet of paper with the word ‘beat’ on it

I am too afraid to even think about what they will do to Eppy

Oh and each and every one of them will have way too pretty teeth and I am already furious. I want them to have British men in the 1960s teeth. Give me British teeth and jerking off together

[razzle-n-dazzle]

hello, friend!! i saw your adam hcs and i loveddd themmm!! i was hoping to request smth if that’s okay? could we get lucifer with a reader who also struggles with depression like he does (it’s mentioned in episode five if you didn’t know!!) and maybe reader had a practically rough week and gets home from work and just breaks down in tears, and luci find a way to cheer them up? either fem! or gn! reader if that’s chill, tysm for taking your time to consider this even if you don’t get to it!!

— 🪽anon

ᯓ★ "Give Your Corpse Some Smile Lines." Lucifer / Reader | Oneshot TW! Read at your own risk and comfortability! | talks about depression, suicidal topics/actions, overdosing topics/actions, reader breaking down, hurt to comfort, self destruction, abuse

ᯓ There are days and weeks, sometimes months and years, that prolonged like time, made it appear like it no longer moved and served a purpose. Like time was nothing but a feign idea that was made to torture everyone and anyone who dared think about it, who dared to calculate how it traveled and how long it took to pass a minute. And some days it made people want to break, and some day it made people want to kill other people, and some days it made people overjoyed, and some days it made people excited, and some days it made people nervous, and some days. . . It made you want to die.

ᯓ To be killed in the most brutal fashion known to man, to explode in a death either as silent as taking your own life in your own home or as bright and fantastic as the explosion of fire works. Time for you was never a friend and it continued to taunt you after you had died, overdosing on the pain medication you were prescribed after a horrible accident. Horrific! You had heard people call you, friends and family, after they saw the state of your decaying body after being rammed by a truck who lost control. Monstrous! None of them chose to stay around, none chose to help you when you were at your weakest and worst, when you could barely help yourself. And all you had done back then was help them! Was care for them! Be there for them at any time of the day whenever they needed, whenever they wanted, whenever they asked or called or texted or shouted or pleaded or-

ᯓ And it was a coward move, you were sure. Weak, many would call it, blasphemous and you were sure it was why you never got into Heaven despite having done everything in your power to be okay, to be the perfect person everyone wanted, to be good. But one night, when everything was moving too slow and no one seemed to blink twice at your presence, you would take your own life in silence. To overdose on your own pills, both praying it wouldn't work but gain the attention of someone yet also praying it would kill you and finally let you live in peace. In a world of black nights where you didn't have to open your eyes no longer, where time wouldn't be creeping over your shoulder, where nothing would hurt anymore because dammit. . . everything hurt.

ᯓ IT ALL FUCKING HURT.

ᯓ And then you ended in hell, and then you realized this would be your life . . . and then you realized you were still stuck with your worst enemy of all: Time. Forever stuck in an eternity after life, forever stuck here by yourself, forever being another face in the crowd or another person on the street for people to pass by and not think about twice. Someone. Just someone! Not even someone, no one. Just a shell, just a person decaying on the streets, decaying for all to see. A pitiful show.

ᯓ You could hardly remember when you met Lucifer; Maybe you were down on your luck one day and was eating cold Ramen out of the streets and he took pity to sit by you, to talk to you. Maybe it was when you were at a bar, downing another drink to forget the fact that you were chained down here, chained to your enemy, chained to your eternity of a never ending moment of the hands of time. Maybe you were working your minimum wage job to barely survive, or maybe you bumped into him. You memory hadn't always been good, party due to your own mental health and a constant flight or fight response, yet you had always knew life to be so bleak before you had met him. And then one day, everything was slightly a bit more okay. And slowly everything was a little more barrable; Even just slightly.

ᯓ And maybe a life can be handled in eternity, and you didn't have to be alone anymore . . .

ᯓ Yet, no matter how much anyone wished, love cannot fix all problems. Love can teach you how to heal, love can teach you how to live, love can teach you how to handle everything inside of you in a better manner than self destruction. But love cannot instantly fix everything wrong with you; You should have realized that sooner.

ᯓ You lived a life nothing short of a fairy tale for the last few months, living life alongside a partner who you could share the weight of the world with. Who felt comfortable enough to share the weight of the world with you. Where in the days you both laughed and played, pushing and pulling each other, peppering kissing on skin and longing ones on the lips. And at night you cuddled against each other, both with the fear of losing, both with longing, both just enjoying the company you now had, that you could now share. You've already shared tears, concerns, worries, troubles. You've both been vulnerable under the other's eyes, staining shirts under the other's careful and cradling hug, broken down and rushed out apologies. You've already both taken care of each other, took your time and held patience with each other and you both tried to heal the broken pieces of one another. Most would call it a disaster, a tragedy, yet for you both . . . it was like some sort of twisted hope, knowing you were no longer alone in your self deprecation. Knowing that even if either of you tried to self destruct everything around you, tried to gain that control that's slipping away, tried to push the other away, they would understand and be there. That in the end of the day you had someone to crawl to.

ᯓ Yet even with constant oxygen and wood, a fire can still grow dim in it's own silence and try to snuff itself out.

ᯓ This week had been long, it had dragged you by the heels and you could no longer put the energy to fight against it's slowing seconds. Working a minimum wage job, even after Lucifer had told you that you never had to again (yet you continued to do so for some sort of feeling of schedule and stability), that you hated and wished you could quite for a paycheck that wasn't even that high to withstand the abuse you had to. Lucifer constantly worried about you, about how the job affected you both physically and mentally. You often came home either drained or hurt, as costumers tended to get rather violent down in Hell. It was common to be stabbed during a shift and having to endure it until your shift was over. Effectively causing you to bleed out while still having to rep a costumer service smile. And the stabbing might not even be the worst part of everything; As you had to try many times to bite back any sort of emotion, ire and frustration and sorrow, as costumers yelled, screamed, tossed shit your way for a mistake you didn't even make. And yet it was your fault. It was always your fault and you couldn't do anything but stand there and take it, as your job would be on the line if you did anything other than stand there and take the anger and take the frustrations and the yelling and the stabbing; Being everyone's personal punching bag without any sort of composition.

ᯓ What was the point of it?

ᯓ The thought had came to you one day after you came home, slugging your shoes off your feet and tossing your keys onto the counter. Lucifer wasn't home, he usually was, yet you guessed he had something better to do than hear your sorrows of the day. You would want to do anything than hear about your sorrows as well, you couldn't blame him for trying to avoid you. So you dragged yourself to the bathroom, heavily sitting down upon the close lid of the toilet before sinking down some. A hand rested upon your stomach, the knife that pierced through your side slid in between your fingers like it didn't draw your blood out. Like it wasn't causing you pain; not even the worst pain in your life, just pain that poked and pricked and brought tears to the eyes, but you were no stranger to tears or to blood. You were no stranger to the bruises that covered your body from angry costumers, from the blisters that grew from harsher treatment, from the blood that seeped and stained. And maybe you should take care of that wound, but it was best to keep a knife into the wound than take it out; It stopped bleeding and you hadn't stained that much, you didn't think, and you were oh so tired so maybe. . .just a nap would help. It didn't have to be a long one, yet something in the back of your mind hoped it would be, and you leaned your head back against the back of the toilet. The light above gave out a buzz, showing it was working, sounding that it was on and here.

ᯓ Yet a nap sounded nice.

ᯓ "Honey! I'm home!" Lucifer shout, a cheerful laugh followed and a careful grin was stretched on his face as he tried to balance the bags of groceries that were in his arms; Trying to make his one round of bringing groceries in to work. He didn't want to drop a single one of them, "I'm sorry I took so long, yet I went to the store and wow! There were a lot of options for things that I was sure I would never make it out of there! Did you know that there's like. . ." Lucifer would pause to count his fingers, having successfully delivered the bags onto the counter without breaking anything, ". . .15 different brands of milk?! And they had like this Milk called Almond milk, where they apparently milk the almond and I don't know how they do that but-" Lucifer's voice fell flat as soon as he noticed you weren't around, at least, not around as usual. By now you would have sprung from the couch, or yelled at him from the bathroom that you were doing your business, or came from the bedroom to wrap him in a hug. Yet your presence was absent and it didn't allude Lucifer, at least, not many more. "H . . . honey?" He would call out again, this time with a more shaken voice and frowned eyebrows; His smile no longer held the confidence of a man who managed to do one round of bringing groceries in with 13 bags.

ᯓ And yet you didn't respond to his call, how could you when your own breath was so shallow your heart was speeding up, stressing, just to pump blood through your body; And Lucifer grew worried. It would triple upon seeing the mess you had left, a mess that hadn't caught his eye until now. . . Your shoes left lazily by the door, your keys stained with blood. Blood that streaked like a hand across the counter top and traveled inward, towards the bathroom and it's door that lingered tauntingly open. And instantly, Lucifer felt his mouth run dry and his feet speed towards the bathroom with nothing but horrible thoughts piling up in his head. You were hurt and you weren't answering his calls. You were hurt and you weren't doing anything to signal to him that you were okay. Are you okay? Are you dead? Oh god he hoped he didn't get to that bathroom door and see your dead body there, all stained and pale. Please don't be dead, please please please. . . "OH MY GOD!-" Lucifer hated to admit the way his body froze in horror by the doorway, one hand clinging onto the frame and the other shot up to cover his mouth. He hated the way his feet stuck to the ground like they were rooted, forcing him to look at your bleeding and barely breathing figure on the floor.

ᯓ And no, he didn't miss the way your blood was smeared on the toilet. He could never miss such a detail when your blood was the last thing he ever wanted to see seep out of your body and pool and stain everything around you.

ᯓ "Oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" The words fell out of his lips, fell onto deaf ears, as he ripped his rooted feet off the ground and rushed over to you, to your body. He felt dazed, confused, unsure of himself all of a sudden. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? "Hey, don't be dead come on!-" He didn't realize he was rambling to himself as he kneeled down next to you, not minding the way your blood seeped and stained his white clothes. He shuffled around, looking for your wound, looking for something he could fix to help you! He was so panicked, and had to stich up your wounds so often, that the thought of calling a doctor didn't cross his mind. Lucifer was hesitant to touch you, but didn't want to hurt you, "Wound, wound wound! Where the fuck is your wound?!" He asked before spotting the knife that was jagging out your side. It was mostly covered by your body, as he had happened to kneel down on the opposite side of where your wound pierced in. "Oh fucking duh, it's where the knife is. Nice job Lucifer can't spot a fucking knife when your lover is bleeding out on the floor!- Shit wait I need to actually take care of that. Fuck! Where the hell is the first aid kit?!"

ᯓ To say Lucifer was freaking out during the whole process of taking out the knife, tossing it to the side to be picked up later, disinfecting your wound, trying to stitch it up with shaking hands, and wrapping you up. . . would be an understatement. He was terrified to hold you, afraid he might make the wound worse or he might put you in more pain, yet somehow managed to move you from the bathroom floor to the couch in the living room. He would have put you to bed, at least provided your body a little more comfort, yet he was afraid to leave your side. Afraid that if he took his eyes off of you that something might happen, that you might roll onto the wound and break the sticking, that you might just stop breathing as a whole and leave him alone.

ᯓ He tried calling Charlie to help, yet physicked himself out right before he was going to press the call button. He needed some sort of help, he couldn't go through this alone, yet he didn't want to put his daughter through this either. All he could really do was find himself sitting in front of the couch, head resting upon the cushion, watching your chest rise and fall with heavy eyes; Just to reassure himself you were still here, that you were still alive and you could wake up. Maybe tomorrow? Hopefully. Maybe he should bring you to a hospital. Either way he was here, waiting, hoping.

ᯓ Fuck . . . He didn't know what he would do if you didn't wake up. But you did! By some grace of god you had happened to wake up in the middle of the night, the day after Lucifer had found you. He hadn't been awake, and you were barely moving due to the pain that jabbed at your side. Though you noticed the weight that indented the couch by the edge, slightly turning your head to see Lucifer's crossed arms and nuzzled head into it; He was sleeping, leaning against the couch while sitting on the floor. Drowsy, tired, you glanced over at the couch, wondering why he was sitting down there instead of up here with you. When did you even get to the couch? And then you noticed how you were wearing some of his clothes, with the shirt pulled up to expose your wrapped chest, the bandages still a stained a little crimson red. And you frowned, eyes heavy, looking down at the wound and realizing, at least to some sort of extent, why he wasn't up here. You had scared him . . . A heavy sigh left your lips as you reached a hand out, shaking, as you leaned down into the cushions. Gently, you placed your hand on top of Lucifer's, trying to intertwin your fingers without waking him. If anything, by the way he looked, you were sure he just managed to fall asleep . . . and most likely passed out from exhaustion rather than willingly succumbing to slumber.

ᯓ Though feeling the sudden warmth on his hands, and being half-awake and half-asleep in general, Lucifer's eyes fluttered open despite being rather heavy. He felt heavy, he felt tired . . . yet his hand felt warm, causing his eyes to glance down and notice your hand on top of his. Your hand, your thumb rubbing against his. "Love?. . ." He would mumble out, hoping this wasn't a dream, as he gently raised his head. You noticed the way his eyes sagged a little, his eyelids clearly heavy with eyebags starting to form under his eyes. The frown that had been on his face, tugged down out of pain, began, sluggishly, to tug into a warm smile. "You're awake. . . how are you feeling, do you need anything?" The way his voice croaked, clearly tired and clearly worn from tired and sobbing. His disheveled look, the way his hair was more frazzled than normal and the way his clothes were stained. It all made you upset; Not at him, no, you could never be upset at Lucifer. You were upset at yourself. For causing him so much pain, for making him probably so worried and panicked with the crawling thoughts of your death if he dared to ever take his eyes off of you.

ᯓ Lucifer, waiting for your answer, would gently bring your hand up to his cheek. He had missed your warmth, you had been so cold when he touched you last to move you from the tile of the bathroom floor to the plush cushions of the couch. He was glad that the warmth had returned to body, that he was able to watch your eyes sparkle in the dim lights that flooded in from the kitchen stove hood.

ᯓ His eyes were so gentle, his smile was so genuine, and all you managed to weakly croak out was a, "I'm sorry." And you felt bad feeling the warm tears starting to clump up in your eyes again and spill over. And you felt horrible as Lucifer shot awake, seeing your tears through the light of the kitchen, and rushed to bring his free hand up to your cheek to wipe away your tears. "I'm so sorry Lucifer I. . ." You would choked out, unsure what else to say. How else could you apologize to Lucifer when you knew that you had laid there, on the toilet, with the intention to hopefully die. And you didn't know how to tell Lucifer that to his face, especially when you've never had to tell anyone who's gotten as close to you as Lucifer has that you've thought about killing yourself. That you tried to plan it out in your shared home. Where you knew they would find you. Where you knew. . . "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're-" Lucifer paused for a second, glancing down at the side of your stomach. He had to reassure himself that you were alright before trying to comfort you, "-okay. You're okay now!" Lucifer grinned towards you, a little nervous at first before it fused out into more worry. "You're awake and you're not dying and it's okay! We can. . . talk about it all later okay? Just focus on getting better."

ᯓ You both would sit there in a comfortable, slightly-comfortable, silence as Lucifer stared up at you, and you stared back down at him. His hand, after having cleared your tears, hand reached up to play with your hair, trying to coax you back to sleep. Even when you knew he needed sleep himself, with the way his heavy eyes closed for long periods of time before opening again to meet mine. "Come here. . ." You would mumble, trying to reach for Lucifer, wanting to feel his warmth against yours. He was hesitant to do so, you could tell by the way his eyebrows scrunched upward and the frown that tugged on his lips. It took a while to coax him onto the couch, where even then he gingerly laid on his side and wrapped his arms cautiously a safe place above your bandages and nuzzled his head between the crook of your neck. You were able to play with his hair this time, give him a soft peck on the forehead. A silent apology for all the pain he had to endure because of you without you there to help, without the support he had shown you countless of times without fail.

ᯓ "I. . ." Lucifer's voice warily mumbled out, ". . .thought I was going to lose you." And the way his voice cracked broke your heart into a million pieces. And the only pathetic response you could muster back to him was a soft, shaken, "I'm sorry." As tears silently began to fall down your cheeks, and you could feel the silent tears that fell from Lucifer's eyes stain your neck. "I'm. . . so, so sorry. . ." "It's okay. . ." Lucifer would hug you a little tighter, "We'll work through it together, you're not going to lose me that easily, even if-" He would pause, choking out a bit of laughter between his tears, "-you try yourself."

ᯓ Oh. . . he knew. . .

Home | Masterlist tag list | @lily-ann-b

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

[pedgito]

please please PLEASE do a blurb of eddie fucking the reader and shes like struggling and saying “have.. to.. be.. quiet” while eddie is just cooing her telling her that she doesn’t/no one is home

author’s note: i will die on the hill of ‘struggling to be quiet’ fucking, thank you for coming to me ted talk and i hope you enjoy my poorly written smut.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex (pulling out), exhibitionism (sort of), eddie being a menace, just another reason to write depraved smut

word count: 1.6k

You were accustomed to the quickies that happened, more often than not, in the back of Eddie’s trailer—early mornings, late nights. Eddie wasn’t particularly fond of fucking you in the back of his van anymore, feeling rushed and uncomfortable, and you deserved to be treated beautifully—not forced onto your knees in the back of some metal death machine, scrapping them up for the sheer idea of getting laid. You deserved a bed, at least—but the only downside to that, despite his lack of being a teen, Eddie still lived with his uncle.

And as often as Wayne was gone, he also couldn’t stay gone forever. Most of the time it could be managed without worry—Wayne was gone more evenings and nights, aside from the rare occasion he had a day off, but Eddie didn’t have any qualms when it came to you and when he needed you—and there really was no denying him, not when you wanted it just as badly.

His uncle doesn’t question when you start staying overnight, it’s not his business and he knows Eddie’s grown and level-headed enough to make good decisions—and you’re good for Eddie, he sees it in the way Eddie carries himself now and in the way he does everything possible to accommodate to you first—it really isn’t necessary, but Wayne raised him to be a gentleman and he’d be damned if he didn’t see that through.

Regardless, Eddie loves to catch you at the most inconvenient times—particularly the warm, summer weekends when Wayne was off, saddled up on the couch in the living room catching up on the latest sports game, television blasting through the trailer.

He knew. He had to.

Besides, Wayne had been nice enough to give Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer—and as a hormonal kid in his last year of high school, it was probably for the best.

He shuts the door with a soft click, the mix of his radio and the booming television drowning out everything else—still, when he fucks you, his hand is clasped tightly over your mouth to drown out every last moan he pulls from you.

Eddie loves it, face lighting up in excitement as you struggled to keep quiet, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at how hard he was fucking into you, panting his own soft breaths over the back of his hand, his face so close your eyelashes could touch.

“Fuck,” He groans brokey, voice cracking on his final thrust, pulling out swiftly to come over the soft expanse of your stomach, pulling his hand away from your mouth,“—baby—“

It’s too loud for your liking, springing up from your reclined position to clasp your hand over his mouth, his eyes falling shut as he tugs at his dick, working through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He mumbled something against the palm of your hand, another curse or filthy remark, you’re not sure—but you’re more than thankful to have muffled his mouth because there was no surviving the shame of having to walk back to the entrance of the trailer after this.

When Eddie finally calms down, releasing his dick to pull at your hand, he’s laughing—and you can’t help but look at him with absurdity, shoving gently at his bare stomach.

“Eddie,” You say in a hushed voice of warning, “are you trying to get us caught?”

“He’s not stupid,” Eddie replies half-heartedly, shrugging, “He probably went out for a couple smokes anyways—he usually does.”

“Still,” You stress, “If you can’t wait, at least don’t make it so fucking obvious.”

Eddie smiles, tipping your chin up with his forefinger, the curved metal of his ring bumping against the skin.

“You can always say no,” Eddie reminds you playfully, “It didn’t seem like you cared a few minutes ago.”

Your eyes narrow, trying to look as intimidating as you could despite your soft features, “I was trying to be quiet. You were being loud on purpose.”

“You feel good.” He defends weakly, “Sue me.”

You roll your eyes fondly, swatting his hand away gently.

“Well, for my sake, try a little harder please?”

Eddie agrees with cautious regret, knowing he definitely didn’t have enough self control, but if it was for you—he would. And it becomes normal after time, almost too easy, and Eddie takes full advantage of it.

You’ve never fucked in a storage closet, let alone at school, but it’s something you can say you’ve tried at least once—all thanks to Eddie’s steadfast determination. He’s even bold enough to fuck you in the bathroom of your parent’s home during a big dinner with other friends and family—and no one had a clue. Eddie always knew how to take full advantage of every situation, both a blessing and a curse.

But when the rare occasion does come, leaving you both alone for the night and Eddie free of his Hellfire duties, it’s like you don’t know how to handle yourself, forcing yourself to keep quiet out of habit.

You pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth, snuffing out the soft whines begging to escape, the slow, full thrust of Eddie’s hips overwhelming when mixed with his calloused fingers working at your already sensitive clit. He moans unabashed, tossing his head back to throw his hair over his shoulder, free hand gripping your hip like a vice, pulling you against him just as eagerly as he thrust into you.

“Love watching you like this,” Eddie says softly, voice shot from pleasure, “—look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart.”

You nod jerkily, agreeing with whatever he said at that point, brows pulling together in concentration, mouth falling open on a soundless gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He asks teasingly, tongue peeking out past his lips and near the corner of his mouth, smug as fucking ever.

“Have to—“ You pant softly, “have to be quiet, Eddie.”

Eddie pouts endearingly, pulling you against him in a rough snap of his hips, your hands grabbing at his messy sheets.

“No, baby,” He shakes his head, “—it’s just us.”

“But—“ You start to protest, but Eddie's hand comes to grab at your face, gentle despite his quickening pace, less restrained than earlier. “—what if your neighbors, you know—“

It was true, sound traveled far too well in the tiny trailer park—but Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I want to hear you,” Eddie tells you honestly, eyes falling upon your face, mouth gaping open in his grip, you nod slightly, “—unless you need me to force it out of you.”

And he could with no problem.

“Turn around,” He instructs softly, pulling out momentarily to adjust your hips until you push up onto your knees, face shoved gently into the mattress, “don’t hold back, baby.”

Eddie came in with a plan, sliding into you with ease, hips snapping at a hurried pace that had you gasping into the sheets, even then they were muffled, all semblance of thought and self control gone, practically drooling into his sheets at the brutal pace he’d set.

It isn’t enough for Eddie though, his hand winding into the back of your hair until it hits the root, yanking your head up tenderly—the strain is bordering on uncomfortable, but it’s worth it, the sound he releases as he thrusts into you with furious precision.

“Fuck—you feel so good,” He says in a haze, head tilted down to watch himself sink into you, squeezing at the dip of your hip, “squeezing me so tight, sweetheart.”

You nod, mumbling a soft “Uh huh,” in response, but it’s not what Eddie wants—he knows you have it in you, keeping it so calmly at bay.

“Am I making you feel good, too?” Eddie asks teasingly, another quiet nod, the motion weak against his tight hold on your hair. “Say it, baby—who makes you feel like this?”

“You,” You reply softly, pulling gently against his grip until he lets go, palms pressed against the bed to keep you upright, using your own momentum to slam your hips back against him, plunging Eddie so deep your vision feels like it goes spotty, “—fuck, you do.”

“Say it, sweetheart.” He instructs in a sweet tone, leaning back on his calves until you’re seated in his lap, “say my name.”

You gasp as his fingers reach around to find your clit in a desperate attempt to pull you to a quick orgasm—“Eddie.”

“Louder.”

You sob softly, the muscles of your legs twitching as the pressure builds, your body going white hot with euphoric pleasure as you come around Eddie’s cock, crying out a broken, “EddieEddieEddie—“

Eddie curses as he comes a few seconds after, over the swell of your ass, feeling desperate to catch your breath. He leans down a moment later, pressing a soft kiss to the middle of your back, running his hands along your arms gently. He lifts you up slowly until you can face him again, face at chest level from where he stood above you. His face is outlined by the low light of the room, another satisfied grin pulling at his face.

“Don’t act so innocent,” Eddie teases, “I knew you had it in you.”

You roll your eyes light-heartedly, shoving your fist against his abdomen gently, his fingers coming to wrap around your wrist with ease.

“I never said I didn’t.” You counter and Eddie grins even wider.

It’s safe to say that Eddie goes out of his way to make sure the trailer is always cleared from then on, never depriving himself of such an experience ever again.

[glamaphonic]

People asked for my post on The Scene in ‘Conquer’ in light of me mentioning it in the post about the trajectory of Rick’s feelings for Michonne, so here it is.

The first thing to understand contextually is that Rick went to Alexandria for Michonne. It was for everyone. But it was for Michonne. Because she told him to. Because she took his hand and asked him if he was ready to have a home, a life, again. And he wasn’t! But he did it anyway.

So he’s in there and the PTSD is popping—hypervigilance mixing in with legitimate security concerns bcs the Alexandrians transparently don’t know how to survive if anything ever actually attacks them. He plots and he schemes and he blows his top and Michonne confronts him and Carol covers and they all agree to a path forward.

BUT THEN, Rick tells Carol: “I don’t want to lie anymore.”

And you have to understand that what he mostly means here is: “I don’t want to lie to Michonne anymore.”

Rick has just felt the brunt of her disappointment in him, felt the weight of how betrayed she feels by him not being honest with her, and it rocks him. Because he already tried to make an excuse and she shot it down. (I couldn’t tell you because you wanted this place. We all needed this place.) Because he has these Big Feelings for her sitting in his chest and he hates how it feels not being in sync with her, not making decisions alongside her, and not, when needed, being led by her.

Later when he’s back at their home, she comes in and he’s very clearly been brooding over this for a while. He confesses immediately, unprompted. He holds the gun out to her, surrendering, looking for absolution. She doesn’t take it. He makes another excuse, looking for another way to explain himself, and she shoots it down again. (I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t know what you would do. Anything I did or would’ve done would only have been for you.)

So, he finally confesses, for real. The actual truth. And this is a moment of such profound vulnerability for Rick. He gets up, he faces her, he moves close to her, looks into her eyes, and tells her in so many words that she has power over him; she has a pull on him that is so strong, it frightens him.

(Please don’t get me started on the contrast to the scene with Jessie preceding this where he goes to tell her he’s not sorry for what he did and he’s not sorry for what he’s going to do. THE BLOCKING OF THE SCENE ALONE. Infinite distance between them, him not even on camera, visible only through a distorted reflection surrounded by broken glass. PLEASE. Are you kidding me???!! That storyline overall was fumbled but there were a few moments where they did indeed pop off in terms of communicating what was actually going on.)

And Michonne, bless her heart, she completely misses this for reasons I've talked about. She ignores the actual confession that he’s making and just goes back into the argument about safety and when it’s okay to believe that you’re safe or could be. Because that’s what she’s been struggling with, trying to put down the sword and not being able to truly believe that she can or should no matter how much she wants to believe it.

So she reaffirms her loyalty to Rick, and an incredible thing happens there. When she tells him that she thinks he can find a way, he LOOKS AWAY, FRUSTRATED. Until she amends that they, together, can find a way. Then he’s back to soulful gazing into her eyes. Because Rick is just realizing here, in this moment and the moments preceding it, that he doesn’t want to be Michonne’s leader, he wants to be her partner. She tells him that she’s with him and AGAIN he offers her the gun. And again, she doesn’t take it.

To Michonne, this is a gesture of deepest trust. Despite him having lied to her, despite him being in crisis, she still believes that he’ll do the right thing in the end. She still has faith that he'll make the right choice.

To Rick, who has found himself operating on a completely different level in this conversation than she is, this is a rejection. He literally disarmed himself before her! He offered himself up to her! He told her about the power she has over him! He wanted her to take his hand and move forward with him again! But she walks away! Unwittingly leaving him there with his lil Mr. Darcy hand clenches!

So anyway god-tier scene. God-tier set up for the way their relationship would take shape once they were together. If you ever want a laugh, try to find some post-s5 interviews and watch people, esp Gimple, try to dodge around admitting how romantic that scene was lol. If you want an even bigger laugh, imagine Rick having actually leaned in and kissed her in that scene (the scene builds in such a way that it absolutely would’ve been a completely natural conclusion!!!) and how hilarious 6A would’ve been in light of it.

(Michonne would’ve FREAKED OUT and not wanted to talk about it because she’d be processing a massive amount of things all at once that she was NOT ready to process. Then they’d be dealing with the herd and Michonne would be trying to avoid Rick without seeming like she was trying to avoid him and they both especially wouldn’t want Carl to think anything was wrong. And Rick would be giving her space while trying and failing not to look like a kicked puppy whenever she was in proximity which would be all the time because of the whole living together and co-parenting two actual children and also an entire found family.)

[enheene]

Rich kid boyfriend heeseung fucking you into oblivion as you try to study- can you make it a fic?

He wants it? He gets it.

18+ MDNI

Lee Heeseung

}^Warnings: spoiled!boyfriend!hee x afab!reader, unprotected sex, pet names, idk just annoying hee but then both of them being all lovey dovey, reader crying cuz a bit overstimulated, oral (female receiving), idk semi?squirting, breeding

}^Words: 1022

}^A/N: I’m new into writing this kind of stuff, sorry if you’re disappointed by it!! I’m as well hoping for my fast improvement in writing fics^^

Studying isn’t a thing you enjoy at all, but to get a well-paying job, that’s the only thing you can do. Having a part-time job as a waitress in a small café isn’t paying you enough for you to pay all of your bills alone. What about the food you need to survive? Well, your boyfriend Lee Heeseung, who is a young man, from an upper-class family with a playful lifestyle, helps you out. A lot. To which you’re of course grateful, but he just doesn’t take anything serious. Why would he though? He’s one of the most spoiled people you’ve ever met. He doesn’t need to study as much as you do, he doesn’t need to care about the bills, he gets whatever he wants and that means he also wants you most of the time.

„Seungiee, not now. Later”, are the only words repeatedly leaving your mouth for about 3 hours now. Your boyfriend still doesn’t seem to care, that you’re busy studying for your upcoming final exam of this semester.

,,But y/nnn, I can’t wait anymore. Do you know how hard it is to not throw you on our bed and fuck your brains out? Just, please, get a little bit of a break.”, seeing him all pouty, whiny and horny just for you, makes you less concentrated on your studies. As always. He already knows how to make you give up on your assignments, chores, etc. It annoys you sometimes, but what can you do? He’s your lover after all and you appreciate all of his efforts to make it less stressful for you.

„No, I have more important things to do.” You answer him. „More important than me? Is that so, angel?” Cocky and horny. Nothing new about your boyfriend.

As you continue to study with a book and pen in your hands, he picks you up and lays you down on your king-sized bed. „Heeseung! What are you doing?! Did you lose your mind!?”

„I actually did, yeah”, he informed you with a smirk on his face. Slowly taking off your sweatpants, as you try to get out of his grip, unveiling your pink, laced panties with a wet patch on them. ,,You’re losing your mind as well, princess. Aren’t you?”, Heeseung chuckled with a now slight smirk remaining on his face. He took the pen you were still holding in your hand and started moving up and down your clit with it. You started whining at the sudden touch of something unfamiliar but yet satisfying to you. ,,Princess, do you mind reading out loud what’s in your book?” He asked you while pulling your shirt up, uncovering your breasts. Right after, he’s pulling your panties down and throwing it on the floor. As the wetness is dropping down your cunt, Heeseung decides to take off his own shirt and pants, being left in his boxers only. You start whining asking him to touch you already but he just answers you with a ,,I asked you to read.” Scrunching your face you start reading the quotes first, making him finally put two of his fingers into your pussy moving them in and out. ,,Hee, please stop”, your trembling voice telling him throughout reading the book as your back started to arch slightly. „Is that what’s written in your book? Besides, I don’t think you actually want me to stop”, he teases you as his mouth starts kissing your thighs and then licking and sucking on your clit harshly but yes so lovely. Your moans of being close to your climax and struggling to read the book makes him harder and harder each second “Cum for me, baby”. He’s moving and curling his fingers in your cunt even faster than before, untying the knot in your belly as you moan his name out loud losing the concentration from reading the book. All of your juices being slurped by Heeseung leaving his chin wet. ,,So fucking sweet, princess. You did so well for me.” He doesn’t wipe it away as he starts kissing you making you taste yourself. ,,Don’t stop reading.“ are his only words while he’s taking his boxers off enough to free his leaking with pre-cum dick. As you start reading again, Heeseung puts the tip of his cock into your still sensitive cunt making you squirm. ,,Please, no more.” Just these 3 words falling out of your mouth made him put his whole length in as you let out an almost pornographic moan. “I’m pretty sure you can take it, my angel baby.”

Tears slowly falling out of your eyes as he’s thrusting deeply into you at a fast speed, making you moan his name over and over, as the book is fully forgotten by you. “Princess, I didn’t tell you to stop reading, did I?” Your boyfriend reminded you, while breathing hardly, about the book laying next to your head. You reach out for it and start mumbling some nonsense that isn’t even written in the book. Heeseung chuckling deeply with a smirk on his face only to speed up the pace. “Fuck, so tight, baby.” He groaned. “I’m about to c-cum.” Were your last and only words coming high-pitched out of your mouth, including his name and the mumbling of the nonexistent phrases out of your book. Your cunt throbbing and releasing even more juices than before, makes Heeseung curse under his own breath as your clenching cunt brings him to release his seeds inside of you. “I’m so proud of you, angel. We should do this more often though.” Hee chuckled as you agreed with him. You whined as he pulled out of you, feeling empty and surely telling him about the feeling of emptiness. He smirked at the common sight of his babies dropping out of you. Picking you up and walking to the bathroom now him fully undressing both of you. You and him stepping into the shower feeling the warm water falling down on your skin as you both hug.

“I love you, my princess.” “I love you too, my prince”

[leewritestoomuch]

I’m sorry for all the requests but Dr.stone brain rot is killing me 😭:

May I order a headcanon (once facking again) where their s/o’s family was extremely poor in the past, so when Ryusui made currency they spent the least amount of money, rarely eating out of habit and trying to not make the same mistake their family did before?

If there was a Tsukasa part I believe that would only fuel his anger more for the rich and greedy ngl 😭

Anyways, if you do my request once again. Thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart! And remember to always take care of yourself pookie <3

- Sincerely, 🍙 Anon

Reader’s Family was Poor in the Past

Hi!!! Thank you for the request! :) and do remember to take care of yourself too! Sorry this is so late to when you sent this in 😭 there is so much in my inbox, I jump around.

I chose Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Ryusui for this.

Senku Ishigami

He wasn’t too concerned with what everybody was doing, but your behavior doesn’t go unnoticed.

He watched as you picked through almost thousands of drago and only spent a few, and it almost seemed like you were scared to.

Ryusui had practically thrown drago at you because you were nearby and he complimented you and gave you plenty of money, so why were you spending SO cautiously like you were down to nickels and dimes? (I know nothing about Yen so I don’t know if there is an expression equivalent in Japanese)

You have nothing to really save the money for, so why were you debating so hard over spending it on a shirt. You wanted the shirt, didn’t you?

Eventually, he’d found out from somebody that knew you that your family was poor. He had thought something like that must have been the case, but now he knows for sure.

He’d likely encourage you to spend a bit more. Either that, or he’d bluntly tell you there is no reason to keep the money so close to you anymore.

Gen Asagiri

If he had that much money, he’d be blowing it.

You had thousands of drago that Ryusui had just handed you. And you were clutching onto it like you’d be robbed of it and be left for dead without it if you loosen up just a little.

You hesitated to get cotton candy, despite how much you said you missed the taste.

He watched you and soon noticed your behavior was like those who were less fortunate to have to ration to survive.

You didn’t need to do that here, the money isn’t that important. At the end of the day, the hunters in the kingdom of science would bring home food rather people paid them for the meat or not.

The community doesn’t run off of money, so your behavior is unnecessary. So he’d probably talk you out of it.

He’d come stand beside you, talking to you softly.

“Money isn’t that important here. You don’t need it to pay for a house. And the beasts of people we have here do the hunting for us, and never once have they asked for money. Nor would they deny you food if you couldn’t pay. You can save some… but maybe spend half? Plus…” he leans in to whisper, “Ryusui would gladly pay for you if it ever came to it. I’m sure a man like him will never run out of money.”

Tsukasa Shishio

Dragos have been around for a while, but you’re still clutching onto them like it’s life or death.

Francois doesn’t make you pay them for food. The hunters (him, Hyoga, etc) don’t make you pay them for meat or anything.

So your behavior has got to be engraved into you.

He might be on the side of kingdom of science, but deep down, this rise of currency and capitalism bothers him.

watching you struggle to let go of money makes him angry.

The world they used to live in had brought you to this point, and that pisses him off.

He knows what that’s like. He fought for money. He became famous for money. All for money for Mirai. Just so his sister would live.

He had to pay people to keep his sister alive.

And old men paid for the rights to land and he had no grounds to even do anything about getting beat down by one for picking seashells. That man OWNED those seashells.

He doesn’t know exactly what you went through, but he’s got an idea.

He doesn’t say much, but he makes sure to give you plenty of food and he’ll buy things for you and give them to you.

Honestly he’s so sweet.

Ryusui Nanami

Spend money, get bitches. Yk. (This man would hate the word bitches for sure. But I had to say this. Like side note, but he’s an advocate for the word to be offensive when leaving a man’s mouth)

Ryusui gave you thousands of drago and stepped back. He expected you to spend it, give to the economy, etc.

But you held onto it like you were gonna need it soon.

He doesn’t really know what that’s like. He’s always had lots of money.

Well, once he had a smaller allowance, but even that would be a lot to most other people. He doesn’t realize this so much, not until he sees you.

He’s confused at first.

What else is there to do in life than get all that one wants when they want it? Get your money up, keep your money up, spend your money up. Yk. The 3 pillars to life. (This is not what they are)

He gives you more money.

But you try to deny it.

He insists. Then he watches you clutch onto it like you’ll need it all in an hour.

He probably goes over to encourage you. Telling you to see things how he sees it.

And then you probably explain why you just can’t. You’re scared you’ll end up like your family was as a kid.

He begins to see what you mean, and he’ll probably spend some money on you.

“Don’t be scared. There isn’t anything to worry about money about here. Even if everything had a cost soon, I’d pay for whatever you needed. And all these people would surely do you a favor even if.”

[laurasimonsdaughter]

It took a full minute of struggling before the vampire finally gave up and held still, going mostly limp under the tangle of briars.

“Alright,” he said, rolling his eyes at them. “You’ve made your point.”

“Have I?” they asked menacingly. “Because that’s what I thought last time.”

He looked up at them. “Oh come on—”

“I told you,” they snapped, “that if I tested one more giggly person with inexplicably low haemoglobin, I would fucking find you.”

The park was badly lit, but they could see the vampire’s face well enough to see that he wasn’t taking this anywhere near as seriously as he should be. Ballsy, considering they had him fully immobilized at the moment.

“Clearly you can’t actually be trusted,” they added. “So now you’re stuck with me.”

Dull light glinted of the vampire’s teeth as the corners of this mouth twitched. “That really isn’t the punishment you think it is.”

They stared down at him, baffled. “What—?”

The red shine in his eyes was almost amused. “You’re the only person around here who knows what I am, who I don’t have to pretend for. You know how tiring it is never to smile?”

The cool night air suddenly didn’t seem as cool anymore and they bristled with indignation. “There’s plenty of slayers in town all of a sudden who seem to know exactly what you are,” they replied sourly. That pissed them off too. Slayers were a brutish, self-absorbed lot. They had one or two violent encounters and suddenly felt entitled to harass innocent people just because they had a bit of trouble around the full moon.

The vampire grimaced. “Correction,” he said smoothly. “The only person who knows and is nice to me.”

“Nice to you,” they choked.

“Come on,” he grinned, fangs sparkling. “I could be lying here choking on garlic, or burning with silver! But instead...roses?” He gave a half-hearted tug on the bloom and thorn covered branches. “You could have done far worse…”

A loud, thoughtless rushing filled their ears, their face flushing with confusion. That was not—

“On that note,” he continued conversationally. “Why are you still here?” He gave them a curious look. “Why not just leave me here?”

“I—”

His grin returned. “You don’t want the slayers to find me, do you.”

“Shut your fanged face.”

“Ouch,” he winced, but not in a way that anyone could possibly interpret as painful.

They were too annoyed – too angry – to think straight. “I could be asking you the same fucking thing,” they snapped, recollecting themself. “Just passing through, you said last time. So why the hell are you still here?”

His expression changed, just a fraction, and for a moment it looked like he had an answer for them. Then he shrugged, shifting uncomfortably on the grass, and looked away.

That, at least, was better. Slightly. Probably. “Well,” they said after a brief silence, folding their arms. “If you’re sticking around, you better keep your fangs off my patients. You can go right back to stealing the lab’s medical waste.”

The vampire made a dismayed noise, his gaze snapping back to their face. “You expect me to survive on nothing but dead blood?” he cried.

“I expect you not to trick innocent humans!” they glared.

A sly look passed across his face. “So the slayers…?”

Well, if they kept bothering Mrs. Lupus… They gave a sharp shake of their head. “No! No biting any humans!”

“Unreasonably cruel,” he muttered sulkily.

“You—” They raised their head with a start, glancing in the direction of a sudden sound.

“Speak of the devil,” the vampire breathed, eyes darting in the same direction.

Damn slayers. They grimaced through their frustration and drew their pocket knife. It glinted in the dull twilight and the vampire’s eyes were on it instantly.

“Now hold on, there’s no need for that!” he protested nervously. “I agree— I agree to your terms.”

“You better,” they hissed, kneeling beside him with the knife. It wasn’t silver, but he couldn’t have seen that immediately they supposed. They deftly snipped through the briars and cut him loose. “Go on, get out. And I better not have reason to bother with you again.”

The moment he was free all the vampire’s speed and grace returned. He was on his feet in a moment and smiling brilliantly down at them the next. “Well, that’s highly unlikely,” he grinned ominously. “You’ve just turned your place of work into the only place in town where I can get a bite to eat.” He winked, and fled.

They watched him disappear, their hackles raised as high as their heartbeat, and swore into the dark.

[mochalate]

"ghosts" ; postwar!levi/reader w/c: 700 ; fluff/angst

unlike levi, you're physically whole, but you seem to have lost some pieces of yourself too

“Do you want milk in your tea?” you ask, firing up the stove.

Levi pretends there isn’t a lump in his throat. “No.” 

He remembers you asking him this question before, in another life. One where the monsters didn’t only show up at night; where you knew what they looked like without him having to tell you. 

Where you remember he hates milk in his tea.

Levi fears he's being greedy, wishing for you to remember. He’s been doing nothing but wishing for the last few months— how long until the universe takes away everything it’s given him this time, like he’s a spoiled child having his playthings confiscated after a tantrum? 

He tries to be grateful. You survived that fall from the Founding Titan’s spines. Someone, somewhere had listened when he’d held your hand and prayed for you to wake up, to look at him just one more time, so he could apologise for not being there to catch you. He’d wanted nothing more than to hear you say his name again. So what if you'd ended up saying it like a question?

Levi watches you set his cup down in front of him, smiling. You’re always smiling now, far more than before. It makes him worry he’s being selfish, wanting you to get better. Wouldn’t he choose to forget too? All of the death and the destruction, from the underground to the coast of Marley; and the powerlessness to stop any of it?

He tries to tell himself he would, but he knows it’s a lie. What else did he have to show for all of it, if not for those memories?

“Have you remembered anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Levi.”

“Don’t apologise. You aren’t doing anything wrong.”

You bite your lip— just like you always did. That’s what gives him this devastating, soul-gouging hope, every day. How you’re still you. You still like sweet things more than salty ones, and your spoon still produces the same clinking melody when you stir the sugar into your tea. 

He allows the wound to reopen itself every morning after you ask to start sleeping next to him again, because he wakes up with your head tucked against his shoulder just like he remembers. He knows everything is still in there, buried somewhere inside your body; because on some nights, you cry and struggle in your sleep, running from things that won’t ever chase you anymore. 

Levi selfishly wakes you up, to ask you again and again if you remember, but you never do. 

Pieck had visited once, back from one of their peace-mongering trips. They weren’t working, she’d told him. She’d heard all about him from his brats in the 104th, and thought he would have some sage wisdom; or at least understand what it felt like to lose hope in something you believed in.

He couldn’t supply either of those things.

Pieck was smart, he’ll give her that. She had understood immediately. 

“I always felt,” she’d said, “that it was the worst thing in the world to not have any scars to show. But at least I could explain what was wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her,” Levi had replied. It was true.

Pieck had hummed. “There’s definitely something wrong with you though, captain. Who thinks waking their wife up from a nightmare is selfish?”

It's selfish, because Levi feels like what he wakes you up into must be the real nightmare, lying next to a strange man who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.

"What's got you worried?" you ask him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

He's worried you'll realise he could just be a bad dream, if that's what you wanted. "I'm not worried."

"You're quiet."

"I'm always quiet."

You laugh. He realises your cup is already half-empty, and his is untouched.

"You're quiet, but not like this. Penny for your thoughts?"

You give him a smile that's as lovely as always, as lovely as it's always been. He knows he could fall in love with that smile as many times as it took. And when you reach for his hand, he wants to believe you'll allow him to, even if it's just for today.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed. :) check out my other stuff?

Divider @/cafekitsune

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Someone Different, Someone New — Cassian X Reader.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hi! This is an impromptu piece that is by no means my best writing — I just wanted to exercise my brain a bit. I haven’t added a tag list on this one because I need to go through and sort them out/update them, so sorry about that!

Warning: this piece does depict struggles of mental illness/trauma/panic, so if that’s something that could negatively effect you, please, please give this one a miss. This is based off my own experience of mental illness/trauma/panic, and the last thing I want is to trigger some unpleasant things because of my writing, so please take care. All the love. 💕

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“You doing okay?”

Rhysand’s arm pressed against yours as he took up the space beside you. Just as you were, he leaned back against the balcony railing, wine glass in hand. The cold temperature had driven the evening’s guests inside, but the bite of the chill…you needed it. Even as it started to hurt.

But you slapped a pleasant smile on your face that offered no glimpse of pain. “I’m okay.”

There was no need to put a front on for Rhys. He was the only one who could get it — it was he you’d been trapped Under the Mountain with, after all. He who had known who you’d been before, during and after. He’d seen everything, and he saw you now.

Saw the way your gaze stared intensely through the open glass doors and fastened on Cassian.

“Have you spoken to him?” Rhys asked.

Barely. You’d only been back three months, and the majority of it had been spent on your own. Fifty years trapped with people made company feely oily and itchy. And the person you’d become didn’t exactly make for good company, either. Not now that you were someone who was short-tempered, or brusque, or downright miserable. Being alone meant not having to subject anyone to that. It was a wonder Rhysand had convinced you to come tonight at all.

And there was another underlying reason for not wanting to face Cassian. You didn’t know each other anymore.

There might have been the potential for romance between you…a very long time ago. But fifty years apart had wiped that clean. You were no longer the person who had gone under that mountain. You were no longer the person he might have grown to love. He had known someone of vibrancy, of light and laughter.

You couldn’t bear to face him as you were, now. And he seemed to be doing just fine.

“No.” You answered Rhys, draining your glass.

Your High Lord studied you. “Why not?”

“I wouldn’t know what to say. And neither would he. It would be uncomfortable for him.”

“This is Cassian we’re talking about. He’ll just want to know that you’re alright.”

You most certainly were not alright.

You weren’t alright with enclosed spaces. You couldn’t even stand the feeling of your clothes touching your skin for too long. Loud noises had you flinching and laughter sounded too close to screams. Sometimes, you could swear your bathwater was blood, coating you, staining you, reminding you of what you’d had to do to survive. There was an ever-present tightness in your chest that always teetered on the edge of becoming something terrible.

You may have escaped the mountain, but you didn’t think you’d truly gulped down the fresh air.

And though you’d spent fifty years longing to get out from that prison, you honestly didn’t know how to be outside of it. Who to be outside of it.

You felt yourself jolt as you watched Cassian bellow a deep laugh. The female he was talking to grinned broadly, proud of whatever she’d said to garner such a reaction. Cass looked…content. Happy. He had moved on with his life, just as he’d deserved to.

You weren’t sure you could stomach watching it play out in front of you, though.

“I think he’s waiting for you to make the first move, Y/N.” Rhys’s hand landed on your arm, and your entire body went rigid. “He wants you to have the control.”

You swallowed. “I don’t think he thinks about me at all. Nor would I expect him to. He doesn’t know me anymore. I am not the person he once cared for.”

“I think you’re more of that same person than you realise.”

He was wrong. You shook your head. “No. I’m…someone different, Rhys. Someone new.”

“And you think Cassian would judge you for that? Really?”

Your gaze cut sharply to his violet one. “I think you have an over-exaggerated idea of how significant I am in his life.”

He stared back at you, pain marring his features. And this was precisely why you didn’t want to be around people anymore. You were just…rough. Jagged. Rude and cold.

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes shuttered. You pushed your glass into Rhys’s hand. “Sorry, Rhys, I just…need some time.”

He didn’t protest as you pulled away from him, wandering back inside and weaving your way through the bodies that had gathered for the party celebrating their High Lord’s return to Velaris. You didn’t even know where you planned to go. All you were aware of was that tightness in your chest worsening. Constricting. You rubbed at your chest, forcing yourself to swallow down air.

Your legs carried you aimlessly as you climbed stairs and burst through a door. A bathing chamber. You collapsed against the door, a clammy, prickling sensation spreading over your skin as you fought to just breathe. Your ears were ringing, pounding, a pressure seeming to bind your body and hold it taut. You weren’t sure you could survive this. Weren’t sure how to not be…this.

You weren’t aware of how long it lasted. Time felt both fast and slow around you as you bowed over the sink, fingers digging into the porcelain. The music and chatter of the party sounded so, so far away, you could be forgiven for thinking you’d left the building. But you knew you hadn’t. You were still here. You. Were. Still. Here.

You didn’t know when your trembling hands had turned the tap on and darted under the ice-cold water, but the sensation was soothing, grounding. You focused on watching it flow, dripping from your fingertips and splashing into the sink. You cupped your palms and gathered a small pool and splashed it against your face.

Slowly, your breaths began to even out. Slowly, your body began to steady. The sounds from downstairs became clearer, sounded closer, and the sensations that had gripped you subsided, making way for a wave of lethargy.

You just wanted to sleep.

You dried your face, your hands, straightening yourself out and hoping you were steady enough to make it out of there. Hopefully you could get away without running into anyone. The last thing you needed right now was mindless conversation.

You pulled the door open — and stopped short at the figure that waited just outside.

Cassian pushed off the wall. He unfolded his arms, studying you. And whatever he saw when he looked at you…you knew it couldn’t be good.

“Hey…” He said softly, daring a step closer. “Can we talk?”

[saulocept]

come pour yourself all over me

pairing: sebastian sallow/reader/ominis gaunt [poly]

rating: g

summary: Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this time and remember not to forget your gloves. Or maybe you won’t. Sometimes the alternative is just better.

notes: someone actually asked to see the poly fic, so it’s here! i didn’t use the prompt they sent, but i’m grateful anyway. i might actually work on it the next if i have the time and inspiration, so this is for u lovely anon - you know who u r! lots of liberties taken in here, so apologies in advance. 

also: no more love triangles! we each have two hands so we intend to use it! 

You’ve made a mistake, a grave one, though it’s something you’ll only realize much later, when everything’s far too late to take back. Okay, so maybe you’re exaggerating a little, but there’s so much going on already it’s hard to think straight. You’re already running late as it is, and you’re not even sure you’ll make it long enough to live through the consequences. Still, now that you think about it, it’s better this way, to be honest.

You huff out a quiet sigh, leaning back against your seat, wondering if you’ll still make it in time if you run back to your mother’s house and grab everything you’d left behind. You know it wouldn’t work, not really; you’re already halfway through your destination, closer to the end goal than the starting line. It would be a greater waste of time to go back; you know this, of course, but it doesn’t stop you from wishing, anyway, thinking about all the possibilities, the different kinds of outcomes that could still happen.

You aren’t going to be the only one who’s late; it’s a natural occurrence, after all, something you can’t really stop or control, but even the thought of it doesn’t seem as comforting as you’d initially thought. You don’t want to be late, period, not when you’ve spent all this time being a model student and bringing honor to your house.

In retrospect, though, that feels like a very small thing to be hung up on, especially when you’ve got a much bigger thing to worry about. Like having freezing hands, for example. Or maybe dying from the cold.

Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. The train ride doesn’t stop for anyone, and even if it could, where else would you go? Your mother’s house is too far away now, and you’ve not been here in this place long enough that you’d know every nook and cranny, every possible shortcut there is to discover.

You breathe out another sigh, turning your head to glance at the windows outside. Whatever. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from frozen hands. Or maybe someone had and you just haven’t heard of it yet. Maybe you’ll even be the first to find out. Not that it matters anymore.

The train glides into a slow stop, and you see now that you’ve finally arrived. Breathing out a sigh (and accepting your inevitable demise), you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, then slowly make your way to the glass doors, exiting the vehicle.

It’s not nearly as crowded today, which makes everything a little easier. Small victories, you think, breathing out a sigh of relief as your feet finally meet the snow-packed ground. Not quite a victory, though, because now the hardest part of your journey begins.

It’s a struggle; it’s too cold out, and even through the layers of your clothes, you can still feel the chill. Still, you press on, putting one foot forward, knowing that you don’t have much of a choice in this. You’re not that far from the school now, and though normally, you wouldn’t have minded the walk, thinking of it as an opportunity to acquaint yourselves with your surroundings, now it just feels like torture.

At this point, you’re just trying to survive. Your teeth chatter, and the freezing wind beats at your back, but you ignore it, focusing instead on your surroundings, making up stories about the shops and buildings you occasionally pass by to distract yourself.

You pause for a second, rub your palms together, pressing them against your cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. It barely works; you’re still cold all over, nearly ten seconds away from freezing to death, and somehow, the school seems even farther than ever. Has it always been like this or is it only because you’re almost dying?

Your hands are growing number, colder, and you flex your fingers a little, just to see if they still work. They do. Good. Time to move on. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to shiver. You’re almost there, you tell yourself, just to cheer yourself up, have something to look forward to. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you have to believe it is.

The sound of your name stops you in your tracks, and for a second, you wonder if you’re just making it up, hallucinating. Are you having flashbacks now, reliving a life that’s long lost? You reach up, pinch your cheek. It still feels warm enough, more than your hands at least, so that must mean you’re still alive.

Ready to dismiss everything as a product of your imagination, you press on once more, curling your arms around yourself and hissing. There it is again – the sound of your name, coming from somewhere behind you. Frowning, you quickly turn your head, spotting a familiar pair of faces a few feet away from you.

You raise a hand, wave at them, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Quickly, you jog over to where they are, stopping as soon as you’re in front of them. “Ominis, Sebastian,” you say, shoving your hands back in your pockets as you give each of them a nod. Somehow, the sight of them feels comforting, and you can’t help but beam at them. “You’re both late, too.”

Ominis nudges Sebastian’s foot with his shoe. “Someone,” he begins, glaring at his companion for emphasis, “actually forgot to wake on time.”

Sebastian shrugs, then turns to face you, smiling playfully as he gives you a quick onceover. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”

“You forgot to set an alarm, too?”

He looks confused for a second, like he doesn’t quite understand, then quickly shakes his head. “No,” he replies. There’s a thoughtful pause that follows, like he’s trying to decide what he should tell you. “We got too caught up in our experiments and lost track of the time.”

You raise a curious brow, inviting him to elaborate, but he only shrugs at you, smiling again. It’s a different kind this time: vague and tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. Almost distant. You’ve been a part of his “experiments” before – which is really just an elaborate term to say that they’ve been learning more of the dark arts spells – so there’s no reason for him to keep this as a secret from you.

Still, you don’t press him for details; you figure that he’ll just tell you all about it when he’s ready, and all you have to do is to just give him time.

“Okay,” you say, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He relaxes beneath your touch, all the tension from his body disappearing all at once. “But you’ll tell me all about it later?”

“Of course.” The answer’s quick, given without hesitation. He looks up to meet your eyes, then gives you another smile. Warm, genuine – not likes the ones you’re used to. Even now, the sight of it is quick to turn you into a mush. Here, his voice has grown softer, fonder, like he’s telling you a secret – something that’s meant only for you. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

Ominis nudges his foot once more, frowning. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh!” Sebastian clears his throat, then opens his mouth to try again. “Of course—” he pauses, casts a quick glance at his companion, then turns to look at you again: a twinkle in his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips: “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. Already, the day seems to be looking up for you. “Much better.”

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, slightly awkward. There isn’t much to say after that, you know, nothing else except for the fact that all three of you are already even running later than ever, but before you could even get the words out, Sebastian’s cutting you off, staring at you with an obvious frown.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.” It’s a statement more than a question, and it’s making you nervous somehow, even if you can’t quite tell why. You cast a glance at Ominis, who now has his head turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. You know he can’t see you, not really, but still; having both their attention already feels too much, too overwhelming.

“I forgot them,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you try to affect a lighter tone. Now that you’re saying it out loud, it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. Okay, so you forgot your gloves at home and you don’t have the time to think about replacing them. Who cares? At this point, there’s a bigger thing to worry about, like not being extra late to your first class.

This time, it’s Ominis who speaks. “You didn’t think to come back for them?” he asks, still frowning. There’s no sharpness to his voice, only worry, genuine enough to make you feel guilty. “You could die from the cold, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be late,” you explain, like it would somehow justify your earlier stupidity. You know, it wouldn’t, not really, but it’s not like you can think up of a better excuse. The truth’s all you’ve got, and it sounds even more ridiculous than the lies you usually come up with. “I only realized it when I was halfway through the ride, so I just figured coming back wouldn’t be worth it.”

This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to speak. “I suppose they wouldn’t have called you a model student for nothing,” he remarks, snorting in amusement. You give him a glare in response; Ominis elbows him in the side, chiding, though Sebastian only laughs, turns his focus back on you. “Alright. Let me see your hands.”

It’s an easy enough request to grant. You take your hands out of your pockets, then gingerly present it to him for inspection. Gently, he takes one hand into his, turns it this way and that, frowning as he looks up at you again. “You’re freezing. How long have you been walking in here again?”

“Er, a few minutes, I think?” you reply. He gives you a disbelieving look, and you bite your lower lip, hurrying to explain, “I figured I could just get warm as soon as I’m back at school, you know, so I was trying to hurry.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and sighs, seemingly exasperated. “I can’t believe you.”

You frown at him. “It’s not like I—”

“Here,” Ominis steps forward in your direction, interrupting whatever argument’s brewing between you and his companion. “Let me see.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Blindly, he reaches for your hands, takes both of them in his. He frowns, though he doesn’t say anything else. Gently, he rubs his hands against yours, then presses them against his cheek – the same thing you did before, you note, though he’s warmer. Softer.

“There,” he says after a moment.  He’s still not letting go of your hands, though his grip is a little looser now – something you can slip away from if you so much as you want to. But he’s warm, and he’s soft, gently tracing circles all over your skin. A gesture of comfort, you think. Or maybe some other form of reassurance – a reminder of his presence, warm and stalwart. You’re not sure what it means, but it doesn’t mean you want him to stop. He looks up at you then, smiling a little, “A little better now, I hope.”

“Thank you,” you reply, and your voice is thick with emotion. You’re almost certain he could hear the smile in your voice, how you’re beaming at him so widely you look ridiculous.

“Of course.” He nods; if he’s ever noticed that, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently. You watch as his smile widens just a little, turns into something teasing. You’re still wondering what any of this means when he casts a glance at his companion, then turns to you as he adds an afterthought: “Aren’t you glad I’m here to save the day?”

Sebastian kicks him lightly in the ankle – more of a warning than a threat, and he rolls his eyes, laughing. “Alright,” he concedes, the smile still on his lips, prettier than ever, “We. Even though I’m doing most of the work.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, though he marches over to you, reaching out to grab your other hand in his. His grip is much firmer, like he’s got no intention of letting you go soon. His touch is warm, though it’s a different kind; more like wildfire: harsh and burning, as opposed to Ominis’s campfire: gentle, cozy. Still, it’s not entirely unwelcome.

“You’re not doing most of the work,” he protests, imitating Ominis’s actions: tracing circles along your skin, vague patterns that seem more like magical symbols than anything. There’s a certain roughness to the way he does it, likely brought on by his frustration, and upon realizing what he’s doing, he pauses for a second, then goes slower, gentler. He looks up and meet your eyes, giving you a sheepish smile – a quiet apology, you’re sure of it. You nod, smile back at him in response, then squeeze his hand. All’s easily forgiven when you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. He squeezes back, grateful, then turns his attention back on Ominis. “See?”

Ominis only laughs in response, shaking his head. “I hope you know that we’re even later now because of your antics, Sebastian.”

“You’re as much to blame in this as I am,” Sebastian grumbles, giving his companion a glare. Ominis, however, remains completely unfazed.

He shakes his head again, then turns to face you. “Come on,” he says, tugging at your wrist. He pulls you toward the direction of the school: one hand on his wand, the other still holding yours, tracing absent circles along the inside of your wrist. “Let’s go. Or we’re going to be really late.”

You nod, and the two of you follow after him, the both of them still holding your hands, with no intention of letting go. Huh. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind this at all. -

It’s quiet for the longest time, until Sebastian turns to you, saying your name. He looks thoughtful.

“Hey,” he says. You give him a curious look, waiting. His voice has gone oddly soft, conspiratorial, and you can’t help but feel a little suspicious. What is he up to this time? “I was just wondering—” here, he pauses, lets his words sink in – “Why didn’t you just use a spell to keep warm?”

You feel your cheeks heating up. On the other side of you, you hear a familiar snicker: quiet, subdued; it’s still obvious, anyway, and it only serves to make you even more embarrassed. You narrow your eyes, glare at him, ready to just melt into the ground and disappear. “Shut up.”

He only smirks at you in return.

[scarlethexelove]

Your newest fic was amazing!! It hit me right in the feels. Is there a possibility of doing a part 2 where R is healing and struggling with having Wand and Natasha back in her life? A happy ending would be nice.

What About Now?

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader, Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 3590

Warnings: A bit of angst(I guess), Fluff, Medical stuff that may not be right, mention of not wanting to survive

Part 1 I Don't Even Know You Anymore

A/n: Ok so finally got this done. It has some unspecified time jumps. I wanted to kind of leave it a surprise on who Reader will choose so you will just have to read to find out. Hopefully it's good.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

It’s been a week since you woke up.Your mind reeling at the news that you will never be an Avenger again. Your injuries were extensive. Your head injury with your new found stutter which you are really hating. Doctors believe that those effects can be reversed with speech therapy. Along with that it was discovered that a bullet had grazed your spinal cord. While they did test your reflexes they came back weak. Your lower half is feeling slightly numb and tingling. With physical therapy they are hopeful for improvements but with the prognosis things will be difficult. There was also nerve damage that will cause ongoing pain. It comes and goes and some days are worse than others. But you’re alive and that is all that matters. 

Your mind goes through all the questions you have in your head. Will Tony make you leave? How do I tell everyone? How do I stop the pity? Was I better off not surviving? All these questions and you have no answers. No one knows of the news you got today leaving you alone with your thoughts but with this news you prefer it. 

As your mind plays through all the questions you don’t even hear the door open. But you're drawn to it when it shuts. You look down at your hands not meeting the eyes on you believe it is Wanda and Natasha who have visited frequently. “P-please leave. I c-can’t with this to-today.” You fiddle with the ends of your sleeves. “Well I did travel across six galaxies to see my best friend but I guess I’ll have to come back later.” Your eyes snap up and you're met with a soft smile from your best friend. “Ca-carol?” The tears start to well up in your eyes before a broken sob breaks through. Carol is quick to move towards you. Climbing onto the edge of the bed and pulling you into her chest. 

You sob for what seems like hours until your sobs turn to soft sniffles and hiccups. But Carol never leaves hugging you tightly against her as she rubs your back and kisses your head softly. Cooing in your ear to help calm you down. “Y/n/n do you want to tell me what is going on? I heard you were hurt so I came straight here.” You nod, pulling away to look at her before letting it all out. Telling her what happened from when you got back from your mission all the way until earlier today. She intently listens to you and lets you speak. There is no pity in her eyes, only love and compassion, no malice even when talking about what Wanda and Natasha did to you. Only concern for you and your wellbeing. That was why she was your best friend. She knew you better than anyone. 

Once you are done she finally speaks. “I wish I was here. I wish I could have been here for you, to take care of you but I’m here now.” She kisses your forehead again lightly. Her lips linger just a little longer than they should but you don’t mind. Her warmth comforts you. “W-what about m-mi-mission?” She shakes her head. “I’m here for you. Y/n/n you come first.” Your heart melts. “Nick granted me time off.” She smiles brightly at you. Your joy and excitement to have your bestfriend back. 

From all the events of the day and crying your eyes out you start to get tired. You're nuzzling into Carol's chest as you let out a yawn. “Get some rest sweetheart. You need it. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She kisses your head again and pulls you closer to her. You give her a gentle nod nuzzling closer to her before you close your eyes. Drifting off into the most peaceful sleep you have had in almost a year. 

In the months since waking up from your coma and Carol’s return you have grown even closer to Carol. Tonight just like any other night or so you think. You and Carol are sitting in your bed watching a movie for your weekly movie night. Your head is laying on her shoulder, her arm wrapped around you tightly keeping you close. You let out a giggle at something in the movie causing Carol to smile at you. What she does next you don’t expect. She places a finger under your chin gently directing you to look at her. She leans in and gently kisses your lips. You're too shocked to kiss back at first. But once the shock wears off you start kissing her back. It feels strange but good. The kiss deepens her hands cupping your face as you grip at her waist. You didn’t even realize how long you two had been kissing until you're forced to pull back panting and catch your breath. Her forehead pressed against yours as your breaths mingle. 

You don’t want to admit that your feelings for Carol have grown with the more time you have spent with her but you're not sure if they are romantic or not. “Carol” You whisper between you two. You lean your head back and look into her eyes. “I-I don’t know. I’m not ready. I don’t know how I feel. I’m sorry.” You look down disappointed in yourself but you know that you need to understand yourself before you can decide anything. Natasha and Wanda are still trying to prove and make up for everything they have done. You still have love for them but you also have love for Carol even if you aren’t sure what that love entails. 

Carol gives you a soft smile. “It’s ok Y/n/n. You don’t have to explain. I just wanted to kiss you so bad and I couldn’t help myself.” You blush at her words. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” She adds looking at you, her smile turning sheepish. “No it’s ok. I-I liked it.” You tell her your cheeks are still dusted with a light pink. This was not how you expect your night to go but it was a nice surprise. “Do you want to keep watching?” Carol asks. “Hmm oh y-yeah, of course.” You say turning back to the movie. Your head back on her shoulder and her arm wrapped around you tightly. 

So far the only people who know about your prognosis are Carol, Tony, Bucky, and Steve. You have asked  them to not tell anyone else until you are ready. Tony has let you stay in the tower citing that you have given up enough of your life and you deserve to keep your home. You are grateful for his kindness. No matter what people say you know Tony has a big heart and cares more than he lets on. 

As for Natasha and Wanda they have been helping you as much as they can even if you don’t always want it. They are trying to prove to you that they are truly sorry for what they have done. They even started to go to therapy in hopes of proving it to you. They have even invited you to multiple sessions. At first you didn’t want to go but you wanted to see if they had actually changed. So you tagged along after turning them down a few times. But now that you have gone you have joined them multiple times. Seeing that they are trying. 

Currently Carol is away for a small mission. Fury forced her to go but luckily this one is on Earth so she shouldn’t be gone for too long. You're in your bathroom when you feel a sharp pain in your back which causes your legs to give out. You fall to the ground with a loud thud and a cry of pain. You try to get up but a shooting pain runs through your hip causing a small whimper to fall from your lips. When you can’t get up you love to sit against the counter. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” You call out. “Yes Miss.Y/l/n?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s robotic voice is heard above. “I-I need help.” You say back. Shortly after F.R.I.D.A.Y responds “I have informed your emergency contact. Miss.Romanoff and Miss.Maximoff are on their way.” “W-wait, N-” You’re cut off when the door slams open, Natasha and Wanda with a frantic look on their faces when they see you on the floor. You had forgotten to change your emergency contact from the two after everything, but it’s too late now the women are here. 

“Oh Milaya, what happened?” Wanda kneels down next to you. She hesitantly reaches out for you and when you don’t pull away she takes your hand in hers. “I-I fell and I can’t get back up.” You mumble looking down. You expect to see pity from the woman so you can’t bring yourself to look at them. Natasha makes you look at her with a soft smile. She holds out her hands for you to grab and to help you up. You place your hands in hers, she starts to try to lift you up but you cry out in pain. There is a terrified look on her face in fear that she may hurt you somehow. “I’m sorry Y/n.” You shake your head. “Not you. I think it was the f-fall.” You tell the woman. “We’ll take you to the med bay. We need to make sure you are ok.” Natasha scoops you gently in her arms and takes you towards the med bay. Wanda close behind the both of you.

Once the three of you are there Natasha puts on the exam table in front of Bruce. He was luckily already in the med bay when you got there. “What can I do for you?” Bruce takes off his glasses looking at you three. “I fell and I think I hurt my hip.” You tell him and he nods. It is a short time before he is done with his scans. Natasha and Wanda never leave your side throughout the process. Bruce moves to look at your chart and scans. You watch him as he reads through. You can see the slight change in his demeanor and the quick glance he gives you before looking back down quickly. You know what he just saw. 

There is a gasp that draws your attention. You look over seeing Wanda with her hand over her mouth shocked and a sad look in her eyes. “W-Wanda.” Your voice quivers slightly. “You weren’t supposed to find out. Not this way.” Natasha looks confused as she looks between you and Wanda. Bruce shrinks back trying to blend in with the wall. “I-I’m sorry. His thoughts were so loud I didn’t mean to hear.” Wanda pleads, a look of remorse on her face. “Will someone tell me what is going on?” Natasha asks finally and you sigh knowing that you can’t hide it from them anymore. “W-when I got hurt my injuries were more extensive than what was originally thought.” You gulp down the tears that threaten to fall. “I won’t be an Avenger again.” A tear rolls down your cheek as you look down. 

The room falls silent with the news until Bruce breaks the silence. “Y/n I have your results. It looks like you have a hairline hip fracture. It should heal on its own with rest. You will have to stop your physical therapy for a few weeks but then be able to continue.” With Bruce's words you nod, willing the tears from the previously intense moment to go away. Bruce gives you some pain medication to help before taking his leave, leaving the three of you alone in the room. 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife until you speak. You explain everything to the woman. Tears rolling down your cheeks as they comfort you. It’s an emotional time as you tell them. Their comfort in this moment means the world to you. It is something that you have missed dearly. They vow to help you in whatever way they can. They help and comfort making you feel loved. Making you question all of your feelings for them and for Carol. 

It’s been a few weeks and you're healing. You can move around again albeit slow and with the help of a cane. You're making your way to the common room when you stop at the entryway. Leaning on the wall watching all of your favorite people in the room. No one has noticed you yet as you watch. Your eyes landing on Carol as she laughs and talks with Thor. A smile on your face watching the two interact. Your gaze then makes its way to Natasha and Wanda who are cuddled up on the couch. They are playfully arguing with Clint. The sight widening your smile. You see that Carol’s eyes land on you with a giant grin on her face. At the same time Wanda and Natasha spot you giving you a warm and inviting smile. And in that moment you know that you need to make a decision. To either take a chance with Carol or forgive Wanda and Natasha. To build a lasting relationship with either the pair or your best friend. It will be one of the hardest decisions of your life and one you never thought you would have to make. 

The door swings open as the keys jingle in the door. The sound of feet padding on the ground, wails of glee from the kids. “Mommy! Mama!” Three children yell in unison. Their attention is drawn to the open door. Their bodies smashing into the woman causing them both to laugh before crouching down to their heights. Holding them closely to their bodies. A blonde falling back into the couch with a huff watching on. Green eyes landing on the woman and giving a nod. The blonde nodded back. 

The kids pull away and look at the woman. “Where’s Momma?” Natasha asks, her green eyes looking at her son. The boy shuffles a bit with a sad look. “It’s a bad day. Momma called Aunt Yelena to help.” Natasha kisses his head, she knows it is hard for the kids to see you in pain just as much as it hurts her and Wanda. She looks to Wanda who gives her a sad smile. “Have you been good for Aunt Yelena Billy?” She smiles down at him trying to brighten his mood. “The niblets have been just fine.” Yelena interjects from the couch. Natasha raises her brow at the word. “What? I heard it on the tiktok.” Yelena says with a wide grin proud of herself. Natasha rolls her eyes and puts her attention back on the kids. Billy, Tommy, and Alexandra nod along with Yelena. Causing both women at the door to laugh. Wanda kisses Tommy and Alexandra’s head. “Thank you for being good for your Aunt. How about we…” Wanda ponders for a moment. “Pizza for dinner.” The kids erupt in cheers which brings a smile to their faces. “How about you three go play while me and Mama go check on Momma?” The three nod and scurry away. The two women stand up and start making their way towards the bedroom. “Thank you Lena. Are you okay still watching them?” Wanda asks before leaving. Yelena waves her off as the kids pounce on her and she laughs. “I’ll make you some mac and cheese later.” Wanda yells from down the hall. They hear a loud yes from the woman causing them to laugh as they make their way into the bedroom.

It’s dark as they enter the room. They can see your form on the bed cuddled under the blanket. They see your shoulders gently rising and falling as you breathe. You must be asleep as you don’t hear them enter. The woman takes their shoes off before joining you in bed. Wanda slides in behind you, her arms wrapping around you gently, not wanting to cause you any added pain. Natasha shuffles in front of you. Moving your hair from your face. She smiles as you start to blink your eyes open. “Natty? Wands?” You question as your eyes begin to focus on the woman in front of you. Wanda gently kisses your shoulder as Natasha kisses your forehead causing you to let out a small giggle. “ You’re home early.” You say sleepily moving your head to nuzzle into Natasha’s neck. She smiles, running her fingers through your hair. “Mhmm we couldn’t wait to get back to you and the kids so we worked quickly.” Natasha kisses your head again. 

“Billy told us you’re having a bad day.” Wanda kisses your shoulder again gently. You let out a small hum. You hate to admit it sometimes but you know your family just wants to help. “How about we get you in a nice hot bath. Yelena is still watching the kids. We can then have a nap with you.” Natasha smiles at you and you nod. “Wands also promised the kids Pizza for dinner and mac and cheese for Yelena.” She chuckles as Wanda pushes her shoulder which causes you to giggle at them. 

Natasha and Wanda slide out of the bed causing you to whine at the loss of their bodies.  “Shhh detka.” Wanda says softly, helping you up and picking you up into her arms. You wrap your legs around her waist and bury your head in her neck. You let out a small whimper at the movement. “I’m sorry milaya devushka.” She holds you close and you nuzzle into her neck causing her to smile. “N-not your fault.” You mumble in her neck, placing light kisses on her neck. “I know. I just don’t like seeing you in pain.” She kisses your head as she takes you into the bathroom. Natasha is already in there and has started the bath. Wanda sets you down gently before helping remove your clothes. Natasha finishes getting the bath ready with an added bath bomb. Both women take turns stipping down to join you, one always being there to give you support. 

Wanda steps in the bath and sits down. Natasha then helps you in. Your back pressing against Wanda’s front before Natasha sinks into the water in front of you. You give Natasha grabby hands and she moves closer to you. The three of you settled into the warm bath. Nothing sexual, just love and understanding between the three of you. After a bit of soaking the woman help wash you and your hair before focusing on themselves. 

Once you're all done they help you out and dry you off. Natasha goes and gets clothes for all three of you. She puts you in a pair of her sweatpants and one of Wanda’s hoodies. You inhale the scent of Wanda on the hoodie letting out a content sigh. Natasha then lifts you gently into her arms and takes you to the bed. Helping you before getting in herself. You snuggle up to her and nuzzle into her chest. Wanda sliding in behind you. The moment was so soft and sweet. The women are still kicking themselves for what they did to you all those years ago. Thankful that your kind soul forgave them and gave them another chance to earn your love and affection. Now you're all a big happy family with three beautiful kids that mean the world to you all. 

The silence is peaceful as you relax feeling a wave of exhaustion. Natasha breaks the silence, her voice soft and low. “Detka we have some news for you. A surprise of sorts.” You lift your head from her chest and look up at her. A glint of excitement in your eyes as you wait for the woman to continue. She smiles gently before continuing to speak. “That was our last mission.” You sit up slightly ignoring the twinge in your back. “What?” You question. You hope this means what you think it means. “Dorogaya we are retiring. That was our last mission. We want to be here with you and the kids. We are done with that fight, all we want is your love.” You turn to Wanda as she speaks, happy tears filling your eyes. You can’t help as the tears fall and you hug them both tightly. “I love you both so much.” You let the tears fall. Your family is complete and you can all have the life you have always dreamed of. It isn’t what you expected it to be but with these women you can do anything. Over the years they have loved you at your best and at your worst. Stuck by you through every bad day. Your love grows for them every single day that you are together and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Each of them kissing your head. “We love you too.” They say together. “We want to spend the rest of our lives with you. Making up for our wrongs and earning your love.” Natasha gently kisses your lips. “Y-you already have.” You kiss Natasha before turning to Wanda and kissing her. The day started out terrible but the two women you chose to hold your heart one last time have proven that you did in fact make the right choice. 

A/n: I know that some if not most will not be happy with my decision to have WandaNat as end game. I went threw a few different idea's and always came back to them. So even if it is hated it is what I wanted in the end. Thanks for reading though.