#cause who sleeps with that many women and chooses another man over all of them

[starlightseraph]

one of the best things about house md is that throughout all 8 seasons both house and wilson randomly bring up tidbits of queer culture that they would have absolutely no reason to know if they were straight

[homicidal-slvt]

"Not Just A Shell"

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MDNI

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Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Medic|Y/N

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Requested by @ghostslillady

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Warnings: Angsty, Violence, Injury

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You were touch starved- there was no doubt about that.

You craved the warmth of someone but didn't know how to ask for it, instead choosing to mainly focus on your work.

Simon Riley. The Ghost.

His eyes always followed your every movement, deep and unrelenting those pools of hazel were oddly mesmerizing.

"Good morning, Ghost."

"Mornin'."

You flashed him a warm smile and he slowly glanced away- awkward.

-

"Jesus Christ..."

You murmured as you tended to a bullet wound in Ghost's leg, he had gotten rather lucky with the injury.

It could have been much worse.

His eyes followed every little motion you made, the way you focused so intently on taking care of him. The wound hurt like a bitch and he occasionally grunted but for the most part he didn't express his pain.

Perhaps it was a defense mechanism- like a cat he hid his suffering to avoid seeming like easy prey.

Oddly enough though you were always the one he seeks out if he's injured. He always requested it be you who tended to him.

He trusts you... Or could it be more than that?

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Your feet hurt from being on them all day, work never ends as war never takes a break.

So much blood spilled- so much crimson staining your hands every single day. Desperate attempts to preserve every life you could.

Life is far from fair in so many ways. So many young men and women's souls slip between your finger tips.

You found yourself relieved to see Ghost and the other boys were okay.

Tired eyes met Ghost's as you sipped on your- third cup of coffee? You weren't exactly sure.

There was a glint of something in the man's eyes that you didn't typically see- was it... Concern?

Maybe you're just imagining things. You've been working way too hard recently.

••

It was late- you didn't know how late but it was definitely far past when you should've been in bed.

Though you couldn't sleep... Just another one of those nights. Your aimless pacing around the hall was interrupted by an all too familiar gruff voice, unintentionally flinching and twirling around to face him as he called out your name.

"It's late."

"I know."

"Why are you up?"

"Just couldn't sleep- plus I could ask you the same thing."

He let out a slight grunt at your oh so typical but quick response. Eyes set on you with that burning stare, you could almost get lost in that gaze of his. It wouldn't be too hard.

"Go to bed."

Brought back from your thoughts, you crossed your arms over your chest. Though before you could fire a shot back he continued.

"We need you. You're not gon' be able to function if you keep this up."

You breathed out a sigh and nodded, he was definitely right. You had to try your best to sleep because if you didn't- you wouldn't be much good to those who were injured.

"Alright. You better try to sleep too."

You didn't really get any response but you hoped he would go to bed... He was needed too and he deserved sleep.

Though you were sure you knew what kept him up at night- he's seen and had to do a lot of things.

He's still human and not immune to that factor. Despite the cold and distant nature of him, Ghost was still a person- in there was still Simon Riley.

He isn't just a shell.

Perhaps that's why he liked you, there was that sort of unspoken understanding. A warmth to you that bled over into him and his daily life.

Finding himself thinking about you more and more. The same way that you thought about him- a craving to touch and hold him but knowing he would push you away if you got too close too fast.

••

Vision was blurred and all your senses were on fire.

Last thing you heard was someone yelling your name, desperate screams- then a thunderous boom.

A certain weight leaned into you, your eyes desperately searching for the cause.

Hot and sticky liquid clung to your skin- looking down all you could see was red. Your arms, your legs, the ground... Covered in red.

Everything hurt.

Finally your eyes located it- a large piece of metal had you pinned to the ground. The sharp edge digging into your stomach. It looked almost as though at any moment it could fully give way and slice you clean in half- that possibility made you still all movement.

After that explosion you couldn't risk knocking anything loose, especially not that piece of metal.

You just had to hope and pray you'd be found in time.

You were there to tend to the injured- it was supposed to be safe. That's what they thought.

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{HAHA- Yes it's a cliff hanger. Welcome to yet another series. Again- I have no self control.}

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{More Content}

[jordylynnplaysthesims3]

Book review

Hello! today I wanted to take some time to write a review on a book I read a couple months ago.

Lock the doors by Vincent Ralph is a young adult thriller. Lock the doors is about a teenage boy named Tom who hasn't had the best life. His father is not around, His mother is not very good at choosing men to be with and because of that its caused tom to see a lot he shouldn't have from a young age. Fast forward into Toms teenage years his mom surprisingly has found a good man to be with named Jay who has a daughter named Nia. They move into toms mothers dream home, but Tom has found something odd about this house. There's holes in the bedroom door as if there were locks on it and I know what you're thinking "its just a lock" but the thing about these locks was that they were on the outside of the door. Kind of like whoever put these locks here was locking someone or something in. Not only were they on his door they were also on his step sister Nia's door. The room right next to his. His mom and step dad told him not to worry he is just over thinking it which is not an unusual thing for Tom. So he try's to forget and attempts to go to sleep in there new home. But all he can think about are those holes. The next day at school Tom is greeted by the principal, a women, and, a girl who looks his age. This women though, she looks oddly familiar. Then it comes to Tom, she's the women from the open house when they came to look at his now new home. The Principal asks Tom if he could show them around the school, Tom agrees. The women interduces the girl as her daughter Amy. But there was something weird about her, she looked so sad and broken. Tom gives them the tour and goes to class. thinking about how sad Amy looked. Then tom remembered If that was the women who lived in the house and Amy was her daughter Amy must know about the holes in the doors. The next day Tom gets to school and is told but guidance that he will be Amy's buddy to help her get used to the new school. Tom is confused. There's no way the school just randomly assigned me as her buddy. she had to have requested this. A hyper Amy walks up to a confused Tom. "well I guess you're my buddy" she says. "you think I could get another tour?" she asks Tom. I think you should ask for another buddy Tom says to Amy, and walks away as Amy asks why. During class all tom can think about is Amy. She is kind of like a song you hear first thing in the morning and cant get out of your head all day. Tom keeps thinking about those holes too. So at break he decides to go back up to Amy and give her a tour. He know if he wants to know about the holes in the doors he has to get Amy to trust him. Eventually Tom finds out that the holes aren't the weirdest part. Amy's family has only moved a cross the street. "don't people usually move for a new beginning" he thinks to himself. I have to figure out was going on. I have so many questions. What is with these holes in the doors? and why would Amy's family move just a cross the street? Tom has no clue but he does know that if he ever wants to know he is gonna have to get close to Amy to find out, and oh boy does Tom not know what he is in for.

This book is great if you are really into mysterious drama. The book has 319 pages and for me was a particularly fast read. I would definitely rate this book 4 stars out of 5. Very easy to get into, honestly couldn't take my nose out of it. If you'd like to know the mystery behind the holes in the doors you can order this book of amazon. Here is the link: https://www.amazon.com/Lock-Doors-Vincent-Ralph/dp/1728231892/ref=asc_df_1728231892/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=564764382853&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=16768874699341899012&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9058761&hvtargid=pla-1635715833506&psc=1

[femdomliterature]

FemLit 0033 - Choosing a Chastity Cage

FemLit 0033 - Choosing a Chastity Cage

FLR Tips is the sister site to FLR Info, where you’ll find introductory information about Female-Led Relationships. If you’re new to this, you should head over there. This site is about the practical, day-to-day aspects of FLRs. It is much more explicit and quite sex/femdom-oriented.

By making your man wear a chastity cage 24/7, you can control his erections and orgasms.

Stated matter-of-factly like that, it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but make no mistake - it is! Not only do you control his erections and orgasms, but he’ll be walking around with a constant reminder of your special arrangement, which goes a long way towards fulfilling his need for the arrangment to be rooted in something sexual and kinky.

In fact, I believe many FLR-leaning couples could simply add a constantly worn chastity device to their relationship and reap 90% of the benefits of a more elaborate FLR setup. The man gets his kink while at the same time building up his desire to serve, and the women gets her worshipping/pampering/sexual attention, without the ups and downs that comes with a man who can decide for himself when to become erect or have an orgasm.

But all of this hinges on the requirement that the man must wear the device constantly. Whenever you aren’t actively using his penis for something, it is securely locked away. In order to do this successfully, you’ll need a cage that works well with long-time wear, and that’s what the rest of this article is about.

***

There are several factors you’ll need to consider when choosing a cage. Let’s go over them one by one.

Size

Men and their penises come in many different sizes, and you should choose a cage that fits your particular man. But what, exactly, makes a chastity cage fit?

In our experience, the most important factor when it comes to size, is that the part of the cage that holds the penis itself should be pretty short, so that even when his penis is in its most shriveled-up state, the tip of the penis will almost never have any clearance with respect to the tip of the cage - there should be contact at all times.

There are several reasons why this is a good thing. The most important one is that it makes night-time erections less painful. Somewhat unintuitively, the less room his penis has to grow, the less it hurts. When he can’t even get semi-erect, it prevents the cage from pulling too hard on his testicles (which is what causes the most pain).

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the thought of him having some discomfort during the night, while I am sleeping like a baby after receiving my massages and orgasm(s) for the night. Even a small cage hurts a little, especially in the beginning, but not to the point that it causes a real issue. I want my husband to sleep well too, for the most part - it’s important for his long-term health.

Another reason we like a small cage is that it really does prevent him from getting an erection. It’s not just a slightly crippled erection that hurts in that good way - there is no erection, period. He’ll swell up, of course, and push the cage away from his body a little, but that’s it. And we enjoy the fact that the control I assert over his erections is real.

Finally, a small cage is easier to hide under clothes, especially if you get one with an integrated locking mechanism (ie. no padlock required), which I highly recommend.

Material

Chastity cages typically come in three materials: Plastic, silicone and metal.

My distinct impression is that most people start out with a cage made of plastic. For the most part, they work really well as far as restricting the penis goes, and they are excellent starter cages to get a sense of how it feels to have one’s penis locked away, or how it feels to hold the keys to a man’s penis. And if you just want a chastity cage that you can use as a fun sex toy, they do the job admirably.

BUT, I do not want you trying to establish a long-term chastity regiment using a plastic cage. You see, the thing about plastic cages is that they are terribly unhygienic, in our opinion. After just half a day or so they’ll acquire an unpleasant odour, and they are notoriously hard to clean without being removed, which makes them simply unsuitable for our purposes.

Luckily, there’s a simple solution: Metal cages. I don’t know the chemistry behind it, but metal cages just don’t have any issues in this regard. And they are typically much more open, so my husband simply cleans the cage and its penile occupant every night with soap and water, while remaining locked, and it works like a charm. Both the cage and his penis dry up within minutes, with no moisture trapped inside the cage.

Not only that, but aesthetically speaking, metal cages are the only ones that work for me. They look masculine and shiny and incredibly solid (which they are), not to mention that they feel much better to touch and play with.

We have very little experience with the silicone ones, to be honest, and a big part of the reason is that they just seem too flimsy, too flexible. I’m sure they work for some people, but our tastes lie elsewhere.

So, metal it is. I’m sure you’ll find people who use plastic cages for long-term chastity with no issues, but this was pretty clear-cut for us. We moved on from plastic very quickly and haven’t looked back (or even sideways).

Security

By “security”, I mean the ability of a cage to ensure that the man is not able to free or stimulate his penis. The importance of this particular parameter probably varies wildly from couple to couple.

For us, it isn’t terribly important. I can certainly see the appeal in having a 100% secure cage, but not if it complicates things in any way.

Most regular cages can be escaped from. It might not be easy, and it might hurt quite a bit, but most determined men can find a way to pull their penis out and do the deed. It might be very difficult to put it back in without the key, though, so those who hope to be able to slip it out at their convenience and then put it back unnoticed may be in for a surprise. But frustrated men are resourceful, if anything, so I’m sure there are those who can do that successfully too.

It boils down to trust and intent. If the cage is intended to be a tool to help you as a couple to achieve the amazing life hack that a successful FLR relationship is, then the hoops he would have to jump through to free his penis without the key should be enough to remind him that he is not supposed to do that, and continuing on that path could easily end up damaging the relationship - not because chastity is important in itself, but because it is a violation of trust, which is bad for any relationship.

It’s very simple in our relationship: By mutual understanding, any attempt to escape or cheat when the cage is locked means jeopardizing the entire FLR part of the relationship. Others might have a more playful attitude towards this, maybe even develop it into a sort of cat-and-mouse game where he is always trying to escape and she is always trying to come up with ever more secure cages. That’s fine, of course, but not for us.

So why not dispense with the cage altogether, if it’s based on trust anyway? Many reasons! It’s not all based on trust, there is a real barrier to cross to be able to circumvent the cage. And even the most devoted man cannot just decide to never have erections, simply to please his woman. Not to mention the joy of having an actual, physical cage and an actual, physical key, that, for the most part, work exactly as intended. We get a lot of pleasure from the chastity cage.

If security is very important to you, and you are not afraid to take things pretty far, you should do some research on urethra cages and/or Prince Albert piercings and cages that are designed to integrate with them. I’ve also been told that there are outfits that make custom-built cages that can be very secure. These apparantly cost several hundred or even thousands of USD, but go nuts if that’s your thing!

Other considerations

Price is obviously a factor for many people. A quality metal cage actually costs less than many of the plastic ones, typically in the range of 25-50 USD.

And, since I have already gotten this question many times, the cage we currently rely on for day-to-day use is the Tight Squeeze III.

[roscgcld]

GOJOTWINS!AU || greatest gift

request: I have a request for the twin-sided-with-Geto AU if you're up for it (as angsty or as fluffy as you like)? As a last request, Y/N twin asks Satoru to look after his niece/nephew. A child that looks just like Geto but with his sister's eyes.

note: hmmm....I was more concerned between if I want to make it angsty or make it fluffy, since this idea was definitely interesting for me to explore. However! This definitely gave me some creative juices! The entire ‘jjk men as parents’ trope is honestly so cute >< I wish Gege showed more scenes of Geto with his two ‘daughters’ - domestic!Geto sounds so fucking hot 😣😣 but writing this also makes me want to write something like ‘the adventures of uncle gojo and his niece’

warning: spoilers for anime-only fans! proceed with caution

pronouns: she/her

gojotwins!au masterlist

“You need to finish your veggies, Rei-chan. You know the rules.”

The young girl that sat before Gojo pouts softly, crossing her tiny arms over her chest as she turns her puppy eyes up at the older man. Gojo looks down at the pouting girl, his own oceanic blue eyes were shining behind the darkly tinted sunglasses as the young girl - Rei, as she was named - tried to use her puppy eyes to get out form eating all the ‘tiny trees’ that sat on her bear themed child plate. 

From the outside you would assume that Gojo was probably just babysitting the toddler; the man is wearing an odd uniform in Japanese norms, but it is still certain that he is in school. And from the looks of things, he is definitely a young adult - no older than a college student, despite how good looking he was. And they were right to some extend; the young girl, besides the eyes, does not look like Gojo Satoru at all. 

But Gojo and Rei definitely shared a unique relationship than your average ‘babysitter and child’ one. “Come on, bunny - you gotta eat all the greens if you wanna grow big and strong like your daddy.”

At the mention of her father, Rei perked up immediately; yet immediately deflated at the sight of the broccoli that was held out to her by Gojo once more. Rei lets out a soft whine and a huff, yet she reluctantly leaned forward before she ate the broccoli; making a face at the taste of it on her tongue. “Not a fan, huh?”

“The tiny tree taste bad..,” Rei mumbles quietly as she finishes chewing her mouthful of broccoli, pulling another face that has Gojo chuckling quietly as he grabbed a napkin from the napkin dispenser to clean Rei’s chubby cheeks. “I know they do, bunny. But you gotta eat them to make sure you grow strong, right? You wanna be a sorcerer like me one day, don’t you?”

Geto Rei was not your average child; born with Gojo blood flowing through her veins, she is the ‘love child’ of Gojo Y/N and Geto Suguru; Gojo Satoru’s twin sister and her boyfriend. When Geto first went ‘rogue’ and kill the village he was sent to, Y/N had found out that she was pregnant with his child. She was sure it was his, since Y/N and him have been dating for about a year up to this point. There was no denying who the father was. And that terrified her; she was worried that the elders will do something bad to the child that was growing inside of her. 

Even if she is one of the strongest sorcerers of the century, she is still a woman first - and women who are to have kids outside of marriage, and with someone who isn’t approved by the elders of the clan, are just asking for trouble. And whilst she was sure she can take on whatever the elders will put her through, the thought of her unborn child having to deal with the leftover anger from her parents’ actions, to be brought up in a world where others would shun the little bean, was too much to bear. 

So, even with Gojo’s pleas for her to stay, Y/N had packed up and left without a trace for others to find her. Yet Gojo was certain she had upped and left so she can spend her ‘future’ with her boyfriend, even if she knows that their love story will only end in tragedy. So you couldn’t believe Gojo’s shock when he opened the door of his apartment one random night, having been roused from his slumber in the early mornings; only to find a baby sleeping peacefully in blankets placed at his doorstep. 

Pinned to the front of the baby’s blanket was a simple letter addressed to him, and immediately Gojo knew what the content of it was. There was no denying who the young baby, who Gojo found out was a baby girl, was either. Because in the morning, when the little youngster finally opened her eyes, were a pair of his very own Six Eyes staring up at him curiously as a thick and fluffy head of black hair surrounding her.

“Dear God...wait until ma and pa find out about this...”

That is how Gojo found himself today; third year college student quietly coaxing the young toddler to eat her veggies as they waited at a café for another two kids he had ‘adopted’ to get off from preschool. He was honestly questioning everything he is doing with his life right now. “Since you’ve been a good girl...maybe later, when ‘Gumi-nee and ‘Miki-nii come over, we order some ice cream~”

Just the mention of the frozen treat had the little girl perking up in excitement, causing Gojo to laugh as he gently rests a hand on her head; already being able to sense the waves of excitement that is coming from Rei. “But in exchange, you have to finish your veggies,” Gojo continues as he gestures towards the child plate before Rei; which held a few pieces of veggies from the small salad that came with her meal.

So that was how the Fushiguros found the two in the café, having grabbed some lunch whilst they waited for the two to get off from school. Rei, who looked over when the café doors were pushed open, perked up at the sight of the familiar duo walking towards them. Gojo just grinned and picked her out of her babychair before he sets her down on the ground, watching in amusement as Rei ran towards Megumi and Tsumiki on her chubby little feet.

Megumi, who was her target today, paused before he bends down to catch her as she stumbled into him; scowling over at the smirking Gojo who was still seated at the table. “Don’t worry Megumi-kun. I was 100% sure that you were going to catch her~,” Gojo called back teasingly, his grin only widening at Megumi’s annoyance as the young shikigami user made his way towards the table where Gojo was seated at once more. “Turn that frown upside down, Megumi-kun - try to be like Tsumiki-chan more, she’s super cute.”

Megumi just rolled his eyes as he settles down in a free seat, letting Rei cuddle up into the younger male whilst Tsumiki giggles at Gojo; who had reached over to playfully tug at her cheek. Soon though Gojo gestures for the two kids to order what they want for lunch before they go home; a habit of theirs now since Gojo cannot for the life of him cook. 

The one time he tried cooking...well...lets just say the kids have since begged for him to never attempt cooking ever again. 

Hence why, after a brief lunch and a brief visit to the grocery store, the four of them made their way back towards Gojo’s home. He had long since moved out from the apartment that he rented in the beginning, understanding how important it is for Megumi and Tsumiki to have their own private spaces to retire to after a long they. Because after all that they’ve been through and are going to be going through in the future as people touched by the jujutsu world, they are still growing kids first. So Gojo had invested in a nice home close that is close to the college, yet not too far away from the city where the kids might feel cut off from their friends on the outside. 

“Alright, time to get you into the shower,” Gojo grins at a giggling Rei, who he had set in her baby seat as he puts away the groceries; Tsumiki had offered to make some katsudon for everyone for dinner tonight. Hence the brief stop at the grocery store. Since it was still little early into the afternoon, the two Fushiguro children retired in their rooms to unwind and catch up with homework before preparing for diner. So for now, Gojo and Rei were alone once more. “Gotta make sure you’re cleaned up before your nap~”

Rei just giggles and smiles over at the older man, reaching her arms up so the man can carefully picked her up as he made his way towards his bedroom. It was a normal routine for him to give Rei a shower after coming home from the outside, worried that she was going to be carrying dirt and germs into her bed before she is laid down for her nap. So Gojo carefully filled the baby tub he set out inside his shower stall before he carefully filled it with warm water and bubbles; making sure the water was warm enough before he carefully strips Rei and sets her in the warm bath. 

Many people have questioned him before as to why he was taking care of her like she was his own child. Even though she is her niece, her parents are Curse Users; they defected from the jujutsu world in order to live in a life of crime. Or more so Y/N leaving behind her family and friends for something as feeble as her ‘love’ for Geto Suguru. Many people call her delusional, stupid, naïve - no one can picture just what was it that made her choose between the life on the run with Geto, for the luxurious life that the Gojo estate has, and still would, provide to her. Even after Rei was born.

However, to Gojo, he just knew she saw it differently. 

If there was one person who he can rely on completely, without having to fear of judgement, it was definitely Y/N. She was his twin sister, someone who ‘cursed’ with the same power as he was, and knows all the struggles and stress that comes with being ‘the strongest’. When she had found out she was pregnant, she was terrified - running into his room in the middle of the night with the positive pregnancy test in hand. She was scared shitless with the entire idea that she was going to be a teen mum alone.

And no matter how much Gojo had tried to reassure her that if Geto was here, he would be ecstatic with the idea that he was going to be a father, Y/N was inconsolable. She was terrified at the idea that not only would the baby will not have a father, they might even have to suffer through the stigma of having a parent that was a murderer in their world. Y/N was also going through it as well; it was clear as day that Geto was the last thing that was truly keeping Y/N sane. Although Gojo and her had a special bond, it was like Geto was that extra support that made sure both of the Gojo siblings were still staying strong. 

Maybe it was the stress of the idea that she was going to be called out by the elders of the clan, or her parents might be disappointed in her, or maybe the idea that she was going to be a teen parent itself officially cracked her. Gojo, to this day, isn’t 100% sure as to why Y/N chose to do what she did; chose to stay with Geto even though she knows that it will bring more stigma onto her daughter after she was born. 

At one point even Gojo had admitted to himself that she was naïve and selfish for choosing what she did instead of facing the brief music that will come from the adults in her life.

But as he playfully makes animal noises at a giggling Rei, Gojo hopes that Y/N rest easy knowing how many people loves Rei. How Shoko, Mei Mei, and even Utahime had essentially dubbed themselves as Rei’s godmothers and spoil her even more than he does; and that is saying a lot. Sure, the elders were not as welcoming to Rei, even more so because she was not carry the Gojo name on top of the fact that her parents were not married when they had her, were definitely not helping her case.

However, Rei was special. She was born her with her mother and uncle’s Six Eyes; and it was because of this that the elders have yet to officially cut Rei off from her surviving biological family. 

Whilst he was thinking back about everything, Gojo’s body went on autopilot as he bathe, dried, and dressed Rei like usual. He kept her occupied to the best of his abilities, but from the trip they had earlier today plus the grocery store trip, Rei was already nodding off when Gojo was blow drying her soft black hair. This caused him to smile as he carefully gathered the little girl in his arms, letting her curl up against his chest as he made his way towards his messy study desk. 

Even if he is a sorcerer and taking care of 3 young kids, he still needs to do mundane things like homework before he can fully graduate from Jujutsu Tech. And as much as he wants to just cuddle Rei and sleep as well - he’s been putting off this essay for about 3 days now. And its due date is tomorrow; so he has to get cracking on this essay if he wants to be eligible for the final exam this year.

“I wish I can live as carefree as you do, Rei-chan,” Gojo mumbles quietly to the young girl in his arms, glancing down at her sleeping features as she rests her ear above his heart. It was quite jarring honestly, since the little girl looked like one of his best friends, Geto Suguru. A man who he sometimes wish late into the night that he had made a better effort into reaching out to when they are at their lowest.

Gojo knew that the death of Riko had effected all of them in their own ways; and although Gojo had asked Geto a few times if he was alright, he just wished he tried harder. Maybe if he wasn’t so full of himself, that he tried to spot more of the chances in Geto’s behaviour - just maybe, he might still be here right now. He would be the one who witnessed Rei saying her first words (it was ‘dog’ because of Megumi’s Divine Dogs that he lets out at home), to her standing up on her own for the first time, to her first steps. 

Gojo felt guilty for being the one to witness all of her firsts when her parents should be the one to do that.

“I hope you know just how much your parents love you, bunny,” Gojo mumbles quietly to the sleeping toddler in his arms as he cuddles her closer, his somber eyes watching her tiny back as it rose and fell with each one of her deep breaths. “I know you don’t really understand things now, but I hope you do not grow up resenting your parents for giving you away before you even have a chance to know them. Your mother is a brave woman; she knew what she had to do in order to ensure that you’d get to live a fair and comfortable life.”

Only silence greeted Gojo after his soft admission, yet all that did was make Gojo let out a brief chuckle through his nose. “She may call me a dumbass, but she trusted me enough to know that there was no way I am going to let you fend for yourself in this cruel world,” He hums as he reaches up to stroke her chubby cheek ever so slightly, a soft and fond smile tugging against the corner of his lips at how Rei just cuddled closer to him in her sleep. 

“Because at the end of the day, you’re the greatest gift that has ever been gifted to all of us.”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform.

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter I

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and eventual smut.

A/N: I changed Jungkook’s story slightly from my original story.  Hope you guys like it!!! Enjoy :)

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook. 

You had been in love with him, since the moment you understood what it truly meant to love someone. 

The engagement party was in full swing - people chattered around you happily, congratulating the supposedly happy couple - but all your attention was on him.

You watched him from across the expanse of people wedged between you both.  He leaned against the stone wall, observing, as he always did.  Arms crossed, dark eyes narrowed.  

You knew you probably shouldn’t watch him for long - that if he felt your gaze on him he would add it to the long list of reasons why he’d probably noticed you were in love with him years ago.  But you couldn’t help yourself.  He looked so handsome - so inviting - and you swore at yourself for still holding a candle to someone who didn’t see you as much more than an accomplice to his little sister.

Your best friend Nayeon had been born only a year after Jungkook, but sometimes it felt like he would treat her - and by association you - as a child forever.

“Stop staring,” Nayeon had sidled up beside you, a flute of champagne clutched in her hands, “You’re making it so obvious.”

You rolled your eyes, “You mean twenty three years of following him around like a puppy hasn’t been proof enough?”

She sighed heavily and slipped an arm through your own.  Nayeon had known about your unfortunate feelings for her brother for a long time.  Unfortunate because, really, in what world would your love ever be reciprocated?

Not only had you been relegated to little sister status long ago - but Jungkook was so handsome he could have any woman he wanted. 

It was well known that Jungkook was Bangtan’s resident playboy.  He’d made no effort to settle down in the years since turning a ‘marriage-appropriate’ age, and had done just about the opposite.  Flitting from woman to woman  (and coincidentally bed to bed) with an easy smile and eyes that could warm the hardest of hearts.

Eventually, of course, he would be forced to settle down.  Not only was he an important member of Bangtan - he was in the capo’s inner circle.  Soon Taehyung would choose a wife for him whether he wanted it or not.  Because Jungkook needed to produce heirs - it was what had always been expected of a made man.

“I’ve told you to talk to your father,” Nayeon’s voice was sympathetic, “Our families are such good friends - maybe the two of you could get married.”

You felt your chest pinch at Nayeon’s suggestion.  She was right, she had been telling you this for years.  But you knew that speaking to your father wouldn’t change anything.  Had told her just as much.

“Taehyung will choose his wife Nae, you know this just as well as I do.”

Her eyes softened and you felt yourself grow tired again.  Your feelings for him were exhausting sometimes.

“Talk to Taehyung then.  Your family is well-respected, Y/N.  It wouldn’t be a downgrade.”  

You scoffed, “For Bangtan’s golden boy?  C’mon Nae.  Let’s not start this again.  I’m not in the mood for it.”

Your eyes moved towards Jungkook once more, but they widened slightly when you realised he wasn’t there anymore.  Probably off flirting with some beautiful woman… 

Your heart clenched in jealousy as it always did when you imagined Jungkook with someone else.  

“Looking for me?” 

There it was.  His voice.  

You turned sharply, eyes lifting to connect with his own.  Jungkook’s face was unreadable as he stared down at you - and you wondered for a moment, if he was angry with you.

“What?” The word escaped you, “Uh… No.  No.  Just enjoying the party.”

Nayeon’s arm had slipped out of yours at some point.

His expression was dark and you felt like perhaps he was glaring at you.  Glaring?  Why would he be glaring?  Your chest tightened.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

The words sounded venomous, almost.  You felt confused.

“What?”

Jungkook quirked a dark brow, “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Y/N.”

Nayeon cleared her throat noisily and stepped between the two of you.  You were grateful for her presence.  Jungkook had never spoken to you like that.  Almost as if… He hated you.

It was so much worse than the way he usually treated you - like a little sister he begrudgingly liked.  What had you done to deserve this treatment?

“What is going on, Jungkook?” Nayeon’s voice held a note of warning.

His gaze snapped up to meet hers and he scowled, “This hasn’t got anything to do with you.”

“Like hell it doesn’t,” Nayeon growled back, eyes narrowed harshly, “Y/N is my best friend and you, regrettably, are my brother.”

“Why don’t you ask your best friend, then?” He spat the words out almost viciously, “Ask her why I got called into a meeting with Taehyung, our father and her father, this morning.”

Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your throat. 

“What?”  Your voice was quiet - little more than a whisper.

Jungkook’s eyes shifted for a moment and he softened - before his face became that impassive mask again.  It was the Jungkook of Bangtan that stood before you.  Not your Jungkook.

Not the Jungkook that used to pull on your hair when it got too long, or the Jungkook that taught you how to swim.  This Jungkook was scary, unpredictable even.

“I suppose I should welcome you to the family,” His voice had lost all of it’s anger - it was just cold now, “Mrs Jeon.”

Your heart stopped.

“I….”

“What are you talking about, Jungkook?” Nayeon interrupted and though you wanted to look at her, your eyes seemed incapable of moving away from Jungkook’s.

He wasn’t glaring at you anymore, thank god, but now his face was just blank - unmoving.  You recognised that look from your own father’s face.  Long ago you’d dubbed it the Bangtan face.  The way coldness seemed to freeze over any warmth.  It frightened you more than any anger could.

“I’m marrying her,” He said, emotionless.  Like a robot, “At the earliest opportunity, apparently.”  His eyes flickered for a moment, and you thought you saw something gentle, in them.  But it was soon replaced by that same, cold indifference.

“Me?” You squeaked, heart thundering in your ears.  

Nayeon was silent.  It was the first time in a long time that something had left her truly speechless, you reckoned.

When Jungkook nodded, once, sharply, your insides twisted.

“I’m sorry,” You felt the tears burning, but you refused to let them fall, “I didn’t… I never asked for this.  I swear, I had no idea.”

The conversation you’d had with Nayeon just moments ago flashed through your mind.  It was so ironic you almost wanted to laugh.

“Your feelings for me have become… Increasingly clear in the last few years.”  Jungkook’s tone wasn’t cruel, but you felt the chill in it, “I suppose your father realised, as did mine.  Taehyung has been wanting to marry me off for years, so he was only happy to accommodate.”

On the last word, you flinched.

Accommodate.  Like you were a burden being handed to him.

“I’m sorry,” You repeated, although you weren’t entirely sure what you were apologising for.  Was it your inability to keep your feelings under check?  Should you really feel sorry for something you couldn’t really control?

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” Nayeon had seemed to regain some of her sense, “You know how this world works. She didn’t choose this, Jungkook.”

But you could see that he blamed you.

And in some ways you understood.  It was your clear feelings for him that had caused a matrimony that he didn’t want.  Jungkook valued his independence, his freedom.  He’d told Nayeon and yourself time and time again that he would try to delay his getting married as much as he could.  Another twenty years, at least. 

And now he was saddled with you. 

You had taken away that freedom he treasured so dearly, without even meaning to. 

“No I didn’t choose this but I am sorry,” You felt like you might crumble to dust under Jungkook’s stare, “I shouldn’t have made my feelings so clear.”

The words were difficult to say - was it really your fault that you loved him? - but they seemed to do the job.  Jungkook’s shoulders relaxed and his face softened.

“So you didn’t ask for this?”

You shook your head once, rigidly.  

“Then I’m sorry for getting angry,” He said gently, his eyes roving your face carefully.  He was doing that thing he always did - he was trying to read you - the same way he read everyone.

But you were like a book to him, weren’t you?  So open.  So obvious. So easy to read.  He barely needed to try.

Jungkook had never made it as clear as he had right now, that he knew you were in love with him.  You supposed you should be embarrassed - and you were, to a degree.  But some part of you, a much larger part, just felt sorry.

“And I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”  He added, hands moving towards the pockets of the trousers he was wearing, “But in a month’s time, you will be Mrs Jeon Jungkook.” A month? You felt sick - like you might throw up.

This was all you’d ever dreamed of… But you didn’t want it like this.  Forced and angry.  You wanted love and passion and affection.  Things you knew Jungkook didn’t feel for you.

Things you’d always worried he’d never feel for you.

You were content watching him from a distance but now?  Now he was up close and personal, and you could barely meet his eyes.

Without another word, Jungkook slipped away from you, probably off to find some kind of alcohol to drown himself in.  In one month you would be Mrs Jeon Jungkook…

“Oh Y/N.” Nayeon’s voice caught, and suddenly you realised you had started crying.

The man you loved probably hated you now and in a month you would become his wife.  Any hope of Jungkook reciprocating your feelings for him disappeared.

It was all one big, scary mess.

//

You hadn’t spoken to Jungkook since the night he had told you about your upcoming nuptials.  From the little information Nayeon had been able to gather, he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of having to marry you.

“He’ll come around,” She told you time and time again.  But you could barely bring yourself to believe her.

It had been years of loving him.  Years of watching him from far away and never being able to call him yours.  Why would that change now?

How could it change when he probably despised you for this wedding?

You couldn’t bring yourself to hope for anything more than civility.  Anything else would break your heart.

Everything about the wedding had been decided for you.  Down to even the dress.  You had tried things on, a mannequin for the women of your family and the Jeon family.  Your mother had tried encouraging you to enjoy yourself, as had Nayeon, but nothing seemed to work.

“I’ll be married in a week,” Your stomach twisted, “And Jungkook hasn’t even looked at me since that night.”

“He’s just getting used to the idea Y/N.” Nayeon tried to convince you but it was as futile and pointless as ever.

“He hates me.”

“No he doesn’t. It’s Jungkook.”

You felt your heart pull uncomfortably. It was Jungkook. You wanted so badly for him to be yours - had spent years and months and hours thinking about it. And yet….

That would never happen.

Nayeon was helping you wrap up the wedding favours. Another thing you’d had no part in choosing. Jungkook’s mother had ordered bracelets for the women and cuffs for the men.

“Don’t you have someone else to do this?” Nayeon fiddled with the baby blue crepe paper, “I’m so bad at this.”

“I asked to do this.” You shrugged, “It was the only thing my mother trusted me with. I wanted to feel somewhat useful.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

Any hope of magic for your special day had been obliterated the moment Jungkook had confronted you. He would never accept this marriage as anything other than something he’d been forced into.

And he would probably always blame you for it.

“It’s alright,” You cleared your throat of the thick tears threatening to spill, “I never expected to choose anything for my own wedding anyway.”

“Still.  This is meant to be exciting.” You laughed and it caught in your chest, sounding suspiciously like a sob.

“I’m marrying the love of my life and yet… I’m miserable,” You shook your head, “Only Bangtan could be capable of causing something like this.” Nayeon opened her mouth - maybe to tell you that her brother would come around - when a knock at the door stopped her.

“Yes?” You answered quietly, half expecting it to be your mother with yet another ridiculous demand.

The portal opened and revealed your husband to be - Jeon Jungkook - looking decidedly sheepish as his eyes met your own.

Sheepish?  Jungkook?  It couldn’t be.

“Your maid… Jennie.  She let me in.”

You nodded and felt the questioning gaze of Nayeon flicker between both you and Jungkook.  What was he doing here? You were curious, too.

“Could I… Nayeon…Could I talk to Y/N for a minute?  Alone?”

Nayeon curled her top lip, “You’re not going to be an asshole to her again, are you?”

When Jungkook gave her a look that could freeze hell over Nayeon merely shrugged. Though they’d grown up in Bangtan - and though Jungkook was as dangerous as they come - Nayeon and him still shared a relatively normal sibling dynamic.

They were both stubborn of course, with tempers that could rival even the scariest Bangtan member…. But they loved each other.

And they were fiercely loyal. A Jeon trait, you’d come to learn.

“Just five minutes okay? Then you can continue to be a pain in the ass,” Jungkook glared at his sister as Nayeon stood, eyes narrowed.

“I’ll be just next door Y/N. Scream if he pisses you off.”

She patted your hand, face still scowling at her brother.  He flipped her off before she pulled a face, sliding out of the room with a quiet click of the door.  When you were alone with Jungkook, your heart felt like it was going to crawl out of your mouth.

His eyes were almost warm as he turned to you again.

“Y/N I wanted to… Apologise, for my behaviour at the party earlier this month,” He seemed genuinely sorry, “And for…” He trailed off before clearing his throat again, “And for ignoring you, the last few weeks.  This marriage has been difficult for me to process.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

“But I wanted to come here and tell you that… If we’re getting married to one another, then I suppose we should try to get along for the sake of our own sanity.”  He stepped towards you and almost looked like he wanted to touch you, but thought better of it, “But that doesn’t - I don’t…” He paused and you noticed his eyes seemed almost sad, “I know how you feel about me, Y/N.  But I can’t… Promise anything.  I’ll be kind to you like I’ve always been.  And we might grow closer because of this marriage but… That’s all I can offer.” 

You knew what he was saying.

He was happy to be your friend.  Maybe to even warm your bed at night.

But Jungkook would never love you as you loved him.

You nodded, mutely, feeling that if you said a word you might break down in tears.  And you refused to let him see you that way, no matter how much your heart ached.

“I don’t want you to resent me, Y/N.  But I’m not… I’m not a man of commitment.  You understand, don’t you?” You almost laughed in his face.

He wasn’t a man of commitment? Jeon Jungkook spent every day of his life committed to the cause of Bangtan.  He was willing to fight for it.  To die for it.

It wasn’t commitment he didn’t want - it was you.

He didn’t have to lie to try and placate you.  You were a big girl.  Stronger than he took you for.

“You will never love me as I love you.”  You said, voice hollow, “Is that what you’re trying to say Jungkook?”

He winced, “I’m sorry.”

The words hurt you more than if he’d slapped you across the face. He was sorry? 

“Please don’t apologise,” Your chest twinged, “There’s nothing to feel sorry for.” The way he was looking at you made everything a million times worse.  You felt like a glass vase, teetering off the edge, about ready to shatter into a thousand pieces.

After a moment you cleared your throat, “How long?”

He raised a dark brow, “What?” “How long have you known about my… Um… Feelings for you.”

Jungkook shifted, clearly uncomfortable, but you decided you didn’t really care.  If you were going to spend the rest of your life committed to a man that didn’t want you, the least he could do is give you this much.

“Since your sixteenth birthday party.”

The memory seared your heart and your stomach fluttered.  Even thinking of it now, almost ten years later, caused something indescribable to pass through you. 

It had been a summer’s evening - you were born in late August.

Your mother had planned this overly flamboyant affair (she had a flair for the dramatics, clearly) and though you hadn’t wanted to attend, you’d done so anyway, not wanting to upset her after all her hard work.

And of course, she’d invited all the girls from Bangtan’s most powerful families including your arch nemesis at the time - Jihyo. 

Jihyo was as beautiful as she was mean, and though she was a little older than you were she never passed up the opportunity to humiliate you.  Your birthday was no different.

When you’d turned up in that ridiculous excuse of a dress - a frilly, pink puff pastry of a thing - Jihyo had spent all evening making fun of you in corners, and whispering cruel things behind your back.

Nayeon had threatened to bite her nose off but the both of you knew she was untouchable.  Jihyo was the Taehyung’s father’s niece.  She moved around the room like she owned it (and in a way she did) and it wasn’t until she made a comment about the angle of your mouth that Jungkook had stepped towards you and taken your hand.

Of course, Jihyo seethed with anger and jealousy all night. 

All the Bangtan girls wanted just a little of Jungkook’s attention - but he spent all evening treating you like a princess.  He laughed at your jokes, and danced with you, and even tucked your curls behind your ears. 

And you knew it was only because Jihyo was a bully and Nayeon was his little sister so you were too, in a way, but it didn’t really matter.  Because that evening it was like he’d plucked the moon right out of the sky and placed it in your pocket.

That was how special you’d felt.

And that was the Jungkook you fell in love with.

You nodded,  once, sharply and then took a deep, calming breath.

“You don’t have to worry, okay?”  Your voice was shaking but you forced yourself to move past it, “I won’t let my feelings for you get in the way of things.  Ever.  I know what this marriage means to you.”

For a moment - just one moment - it seemed like something close to regret flashed past Jungkook’s eyes.  But it was gone before you were even sure you’d seen it.

“Thank you, Y/N.”  He bowed gently and you tried to smile.

It was only later on, when Nayeon came back with a cup of chamomile to calm your nerves, and a sympathetic smile to stroke your pain, that you finally gave way to the tears that had threatened to spill since Jungkook’s arrival.

This was all a fucking mess.

//

[aitarose]

AOT BOYS IN LOVE ISLAND

⤷ characters: eren jaeger, jean kirschtein, armin arlert, levi ackerman, erwin smith, connie springer, reiner braun, bertholdt hoover, marco bott, niccolo

eren would be the type of contestant that’d come off extremely strong at the start, knowing full well of what the show entails—and ready to make any type of connection that could conclude in success.

he’d be the third or fourth contestant to walk into the villa, on the very first day. there’d be about two to three women that’d step forward for him—so he’d definitely get his pick of the bunch. 

however, throughout the season his confidence would start to waver—he’d get overwhelmed with the concept of being filmed 24/7 and wish to have his privacy back. 

there’d definitely be a few breakdowns on his part, solely from the stress of making vulnerable confessions of feelings and emotions in front of the entire world on film. 

that being said, he’d still manage to find someone that relates to him on a deep level that he can walk out of the villa with. the two of them would end up self eliminating—believing that it’d be more effective to build there connection within the privacy of their own homes. 

jean wouldn’t be the immediate heartthrob on the show, but would end up stealing not only the contestant’s hearts—but the viewer’s as well.

he’d be the first to walk into the villa, and literally no one would step forward for him—not because he’s unattractive or anything, just because they wanted to keep their options open and not jump at the first person they see. 

his first couple would be a friendship couple and he’d be best friends with that woman throughout the entirety of the season, they’d be connected at the hip in the best platonic way possible. 

but about halfway through the season, he’d be called to go on a surprise date with a new contestant and they’d just hit it off right away. like this person would be his perfect match and the viewers would be ecstatic for him.

i full heartedly believe that he’d be the one to win the show, obviously choosing to share the $50k with his significant other—there’d be no doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with them.

armin would be the contestant with a completely open and vulnerable heart. he’d be open to any connections and relationships, just solely focused on the bonding aspect of it all—wishing to have a great summer and find some real friendships. 

he’d be the person that’d stick through their first coupling throughout the entire show, finding that connection extremely valuable and not wanting to let it go.

challenges would be a breeze for him, like this boy would win a majority of them due to his knowledge of strategy and complex thinking—he’d find loopholes to each riddle and physical struggle, just showing off his intelligence in every way. 

however, casa amor would be a big blow to him. he’d feel so secure in his couple that he wouldn’t have that serious conversation of where they’re both at, and his partner would end up recoupling in the other villa. 

he’d be completely blindsided and end up self-eliminating soon after—not having the energy or time to take on an entirely new connection, believing that that person was it for him and that the villa would have nothing else to offer him. 

firstly, i don’t think levi would ever be a contestant on a reality television show, let alone a dating one—but in the off chance that he did so happen to be on love island, it’d be because hange signed him up for it without his knowledge.

he’d be the lone wolf type of character, just living his own life—not interacting with any of the other contestants unless they’d come and approach him for conversation. 

there wouldn’t be very many connections for him—probably only one if i’m being honest—and it’d be with a sort of bubbly type of person, one with good morals that wouldn’t be afraid to break him out of his shell and show him how to enjoy his time in the villa. 

while he’d be wary of a romantic relationship, he’d end up falling for his partner extremely hard and would find himself protective and somewhat possessive of them—just to make sure that he wouldn’t end up losing them to someone else. 

considering all of his doubts, he wouldn’t make it to the final four—probably only to the casa amor point, before being eliminated by viewer vote. however, he’d be amazing at challenges. 

sexy dilf erwin would be a bombshell entrance in the villa—the kind where he’d be waiting in the hot tub balcony for his chosen date partner, just sipping wine and relaxing in the bubbles with his one arm resting on the side. 

he’s very charming and would manage to sway the attention of a majority of the villa, men and women alike—and there’s no telling the shenanigans he’d get up to with the friends he’d make in there. 

this man would be the cause of inborn relationship drama, but wouldn’t be involved directly—rather the type of drama where he’d be discussed but not actually have any say in whatever the matter was. 

his placement would be around the top six or seven, just because he’d be so sought after that there’d be a hard time finding someone who he really connects with—since he’s trying his best to give every suitor an opportunity to try it with his sexy self. 

he’d also have the thickest cockney accent that you could dream of—or a really really posh south london accent, like pinky up tea drinker and everything. 

connie would be the fan-favorite contestant. he’d be that guy that absolutely no one stepped forward for and be the pity party right off the start, but manage to sway the audience with his natural humor and amusement.

he’d be the king of friendship couples, like he’d be the villa’s safety net for contestants who wouldn’t have anyone else to couple up with, and would secure their places in the show—without ever harboring any real feelings for those people. 

casa amor would be his time to shine, he’d be living his best life in the other villa and have all the girls on his arms—with a wide variety to choose from and connect with. this is where he’d meet his perfect match. 

coming back to the main villa with this partner, all of his friends would be extremely happy for him and just excited that he was able to get the experience that he signed up for. 

him and his partner would end up in third or second place—though they’d be a fan favorite pairing, they just wouldn’t have had enough screen time to win the show completely. 

reiner would be the shock contestant that’d be revealed after the first five couples were matched. he’d run into the villa with full confidence that he’d be able to snag one of the beginning contestants with ease.

however, that confidence would soon fade by his own insecurities and emotions—the fear of being unwanted and alone catching up with him in the worst possible ways, causing him to have a small breakdown before the coupling ceremony. 

but he’d still choose one of the contestants, not having any real connection with her other than the first conversation—and that couple would completely crumble beneath him. 

he’d get eliminated soon after by the following recoupling ceremony, and sadly wish his friends goodbye with a tear running down his cheek—it’d be extremely emotional despite the minuscule amount of time viewers would get to know him .

that being said, he’d still leave an impact on the season as the contestant who just couldn’t catch a single break.

lil ole berty would be the contestant that everyone looks over, contestants and viewers alike. he’d be that nice background guy that everyone is fine with, but often forgets he exists—which really puts a stunt on his time in the villa.

he’d be in a safety couple, one where him and his partner are loyal to their connection, but not head-over-heels interested in one another. just two people who are attracted to one another with no real bond. 

challenges would be a bit of a struggle for him, just the competitiveness of it all and the pointless wonder of the whole ordeal—the show in general wouldn’t really be something up his ally.

him and his partner would end up getting eliminated early on to halfway through the season by an islander vote. it’d be a this or that couple elimination and only about two couples would vote to save them, causing him to have to pack his bags and head out. 

twitter would have a field day with memes though, his sleeping positions would be trending all over the love island hashtag every night. 

marco would be the nice guy contestant. the one that’s the boy next door kind of character type that everyone would love and see as the voice of reason and peace. 

he’d be somewhat of the villa’s therapist, if that’s the appropriate word, and would always be there to lend an ear to any islander who’s having issues in their couple or just problems in relation to the show’s process and journey. 

his encouragement would make him a fan favorite with viewers and allow him to make it fairly far into the season—probably past the casa amor point and nearly to the family segments. 

he wouldn’t ever be in a totally stable couple, always having to take on the stress of the other islanders and never having the opportunity to really focus on his own time and relationships. 

but he’d gain a massive following and get a shit ton of brand deals after the whole show is over. 

niccolo’s love island experience would be different from all the rest, as he’d be one of the casa amor contestants—there to sway the main villa’s relationships and connections with a mere four-five days of conversation.

he’d end up stealing the hearts of the women and finding a person that matched him on a deep level—with not only his good looks, but the way he manages a kitchen as well.

the main boys would love him and immediately see him as one of their own—enjoying his company and how he’d make everyone a full course meal every single morning right as they woke up to the automatic bedroom lights.

the viewers would also be a little obsessed with him as his pairing would just be lovable in all ways—the look in his eyes being one of pure adoration and love, nothing falsified or phony—just absolute infatuation.

i feel like he’d snag a fourth place win, happily in the final four, yet still not quite there. overall, secure and safe within his couple—and excited for the future of him and his match.

aitarose do not copy, claim, or mimick my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers and tags as your own. do not use my blog as a template for your own, or base your theme on mine.

[itsthestutterforme]

Becoming Mine (Vincenzo)

Summary: Y/N is working with Vincenzo and a loyal ally from Italy. Han seok captures her and tortures her for information. She holds out longer than he hoped and wants her loyalty for himself.//SMUT WARNING, MINORS DNI

--

Jang Hanseok sent Ms. Choi to get her hands dirty and oversee the torture of Y/N for information. Y/N and Vincenzo grew up in the Mafia together. They taught each other everything.

He has asked Y/N for help with taking down Babel and she said yes without any questions asked. And now she has to suffer the consequences of loyalty.

First they started with electrocution. They tied her to a metal chair and put spark plugs on the back side of the chair. They would send a jolt, each longer than the last. "Go to hell!" She yells at Ms. Choi after the jolt that lasted 20 seconds.

Then they moved on to cutting with the thinnest daggers. Death by a thousand cuts, she always thought it was a cliche thing to use. But hey, to each their own torture method.

Her hair sticks to her forehead and the sides of her neck as he digs his knife across her collar bone. "Fuck!"

Ms. Choi walks into Hanseok's office with a grimace. "What's wrong?" "She's not breaking. She's a lot stronger than I thought." Ms. Choi says, linking her hands behind her back. Hanseok stands from his chair and rounds the desk.

"What tactics have you used?" He asks. "Electrocution, cutting, waterboarding, fire and even bludgeoning and she still tells me to go to hell." Choi rambles.

"I could use someone of her loyalty," Hanseok states. "I want to meet her," he adds. "With all due respect, sir, she'll never agree to that. She's endure days of torture for Vincenzo, she isn't going to give him up or betray him. She's willing to risk her life for him." "Will you risk your life for me?" He asks, searching her face for a response.

"I'll kill anyone you tell me to, sir," "That didn't answer my question. I still want to see her." He says. Ms. Choi drives him to the warehouse where they keep Y/N. She was currently unconscious from the pain she has endured. Hanseok's face grimaced and he says, "You took get your hands dirty a little too literally."

Y/N gasped as she regain consciousness and she groaned softly. She looked up to see Jang Hanseok and he smiles. "Who the hell are you?" She asked before spitting out some blood in her mouth. "Hopefully, I'll be your new boss." He says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "In your dreams, tough guy." She snarks.

A man punches her across the face and she looked at him with pure annihilation and vexation. That look gave Hanseok butterflies in his stomach. The feeling was beyond the norm and he had no idea what the origin was. She opened her mouth to say something else but Hanseok intercepted.

"Touch her again, and I'll have you thrown off a building." He threatens. Hanseok watched as the man stepped away from her. "You, cut her loose," He adds, pointing to another man.

"Sir, are you sure about this?" Choi asked and he didn't answer. She was cut free and the first thing Y/N grabs is the man's throat before breaking it.

Another man came at her and she ducked under the punch before punching him twice in his armpit before punching his throat. She limps over to the table where her weapons were and grabbed her smaller knives.

She tossed them in the air and within seconds, three men dropped dead with the knives in their skulls. Which only left Ms. Choi and Jang Hanseok.

She grabs a gun from one of the corpses and aimed it at them. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you both," "Do that and my men sets that entire plaza on fire with everyone inside."

"I'm calling your bluff lady, you're just trying to save your ass because you know that I'll put bullet in your head without blinking," she says as she cocks the gun and applies steady pressure on trigger.

"Wa-" she pulls the trigger and sends a bullet straight through Ms. Choi's head. Hanseok chuckles wryly before saying, "Now I'm in need of a new lawyer and strategist," he says, his hands still stuffed in his pockets.

"Who are you?" "The CEO of Babel," he answers nonchalantly. "So you're the one who started all this,"

"Well I can't take all the credit. She had her fair share," he says, referencing to Ms. Choi. Red dots appear on Y/N chest and she notices. "I have this place surrounded. One move to shoot me and you'll get shot to pieces. Just take the easy way and work for me. It'll be a lot of fun." "Right, like killing innocent people is fun,"

"It seems like you enjoy killing people." "Only those who deserve it," she snaps. "Regardless of your intentions, my guys wills drop you before you can fire. Question is, do you want to live and be treated like a queen?"

She doesn't respond and he adds, "Or I can kill both you and your mother. She loves to visit a little shop in.. Siena, right? What's it's called again?"

Her grip tightens on the gun before tossing it across the room. "Kill her and I promise to kill you and every single one of your sponsors," "Looks like you and I have more in common than we thought. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He walks out of the warehouse and she hesitantly follows.

Y/N's POV

You sigh softly as you stepping into the cold, crisp in contrast of the warm, misty air in bathroom. You had pulled your hair into a loose ponytail before you put on Hanseok's shorts and t-shirt. You hate to say it, but his clothes were extremely comfortable. He promised to take me out shopping tomorrow for clothes.

"I didn't know what you liked so I bought everything," he says, referencing to the various plates of food on the kitchen counter. Your eyes settle on kimchi jiagae and you make your way over to the table.

You a grab a few bowls to try some of the kimchi jiagae, bulgogi, dakdoritgang, dakgangjeong and mixed rice. You set them on the tray sit on the pillow he prepared for you.

"You like spicy food, huh?" He says and you nod. "Yeah, my brother likes spicy food too." You wait until he comes back with his tray of food to dig in. You hum lowly as you eat your bulgogi and you feel a hand touch my chin. You pull away and look at him with confused.

"What the hell are you doing?" "I'm sorry, I just.. you look.. you're beautiful," "If you think that you can someone convince me into sleeping with you, you have another thing coming,"

"What? I can't appreciate your beauty without something in return?" He asks innocently. "Hell no," you sneer. He chuckles before saying, "I'm going to have some fun with you."

Over the next few weeks, he has bought you a whole new wardrobe, shoes and jewelry. He's even made sure my hair and nails are done with complementary spa days.

He's been pampering you ever since you were a part of his life. You've been enjoying it but you've developed a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It also raises questions. Why did he choose you? How long will this pampering thing last? Is your mom still held hostage? What is he planning on doing with Vincenzo?

"Hey, kitten." You roll your eyes at his new pet name for you. You have no idea where he got it from because you are nothing like a kitten. You were playful or adventurous, but you were high maintenance.

"How many times do I have to tell.." you trail off as you see him in a light blue three piece suit with white leather shoes. His hair was combed to the side with gel and you could smell his cologne from where you sat.

"Why are you dressed like that?" "Do you like it?" He say, nearing you slowly. "No," you lie and he smiles at you. "You sure about that?" He leans his hands on either side of you and ducked his head to be at your eye level. "I bought you a matching dress. Get dressed, we leave in an hour."

He nudges his nose against yours before leaving the room and leaving you hot and bothered. Ever since you walked in on him lifting weights without his shirt, your mind came up with various, filthy scenarios that made your panties soaked.

You stand up from the chair and walked into the bedroom to see a goregous silk, light blue dress with diamond seam around the midrange of the stomach.

You take a shower and apply your favorite lotion and perfume before you slide on the dress. You latch on the sparkly, light blue heels. You put on your robe and sit down to apply some foundation, highlight and mascara on to your face.

You were just about to clip your hair up and leave a few curls out but you hear Hanseok say, "Leave your hair down." You look at him through the mirror to see him leaning his arm on the door frame, pulling his dress shirt taught around his solid biceps. He eyes you with a soft smile on his face. "You look beautiful," he says as he nears you once again.

"I know." You stand up and meet him half way across the room. "Shall we?" He says , offering you his arm. "Let's just get this night over with,"

**

You two return at one in the morning and you were infuriated. He spent the whole night flirting with random women at the gala. "You make no sense to me, Jang Hanseok." You say, taking off your earring and tossing them on the dresser.

"What makes you say that?" He asks, sitting on the bed to take off his shoes. "You pamper me with all these gifts, clothes, jewelry to convince me to stay in your life and then you spend the entire night flirting with every one you could lay your eyes on." You snap.

He takes off his vest with a sigh and loosens his tie. "I wanted to see if you cared. Cared about me and my attention." "Well, do you?" He adds. "If I didn't care, do you think I would have said anything?" You snap.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you inches away from his face. He tightens his grip and says through gritted teeth, "I've had enough of your attitude, just answer the question."

"I just did." His fingers dig into you neck enough to cause discomfort but not enough to break skin. "Do you care about me?" He asks. "Unfortunately, yes." "Why unfortunately?" "It only makes it harder to-" "

"To betray me?" You push his hand away and say, "What the hell makes you think of something like that? I was going to say it makes it harder to say no but you always think everyone is out to get you. It should be me asking the qu-"

He stops your rant by slamming his lips on yours. One hand rests on the back of your head and the other smooths over the dip of your back.

Your fingers work on unbuttoning his shirt as you walk him onto the bed. He sits on the edge and pulls you into his lap. You pull his shirt off his shoulder and leave kisses up his chest in it's wake.

He moans softly and you could feel his hard on press against your inner thigh. You tug the rest of his shirt off and push his back on the bed. You buck your hips against him and a soft whine leaves his lips.

You quiet him by tenderly biting down on his bottom lip. His lips latched onto yours and presses your core harder against him.

He pulls your hair gently to evade your attention from his lips. He rolls you on you stomach and stands. "Han seok, what are you-" he rips the dress open from the back, making you yell out in surprise.

"Damn it, I liked that dress." "There's plenty more where that came from kitten," he smooths his hands up the back of your legs and squeezes your ass.

You pull off the rest of your mangled dress, leaving you in your white lace set. "And don't you dare rip-" he rips the lace underwear in two and pulls you so your knees are on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to kill you, Han seok."

"I've been wanting to get a taste of you since I set my eyes on you." You let out a squeak when you feel his hot breath agaisnt your core.

You've never been in the position before so you have no idea what the expect. He licks up the stripe with slow, deep licks, each lick lasting longer on your clit. "Oh God," you grip the sheets with a white knuckle grip when he curls his tongue along the upper wall and caresses a g-spot. Your legs started to shake and loud moans leave your lips when he slips in two fingers and curled them hard.

You tried crawling away from him, feeling overwhelmed of the pleasure but he holds you back by your thighs. With a few more licks, you release yourself on his tongue and he hums with satisfaction.

"You taste a lot better than I thought, baby." Your body already started to twitch and you could tell that this was going to be a long night.

You roll onto your back and chills roll down your spine when you see him licking your juices off of his fingers. Pushing yourself backwards, he pulls you closer to him by your ankles. "Han seok, please. It's too much."

"You're doing great, kitten. Just relax and let it wash over you." He says softly, pecking your lips before settling himself between your legs once again.

He spreads your legs wide before he sucks on your clit harder and faster than the first time, sending shock waves through your body. "Fuck! Oh my God!"

Looking down at him, he locks eyes with you and he completely devours your bundle of folds. He alternate between licking side to side and up and down with a curl of his tongue.

Your back arches and stars cloud your vision as you come down from your second high. He pulls away from you with his lower face covered in your juices. "Come here," he lifts your trembling body and dropping it into his lap. He smooths his hands over your ass before unbuckling his dress pants.

He pulls down his boxers and his erection stands up tall, making your whimper. He's going to destroy you. "I'll be gentle," he whispers, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

You nod your head in agreement and lines himself up at your entrance. Throwing your head back as your walls expand and contract around him. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck and he bounces you in his lap.

Time slows a few seconds when you meet his gaze. "Oh God," you chant as the knot intensified in your stomach. "I'm close, Han seok."

His lips locked with yours and your boys jolts forward when his thumb rubs hard circles on your clit. Your entire body spasms as he cums inside of you but he continued to rub circles until you came.

He stayed buried inside of you while you sat in his lap as you both catches your breaths. Resting his forehead against yours, he says, "I love you. You believe me what I say that, right?"

You nod and holds the sides of your face. "Say it," "I love you," "Good girl," he pulls out of you and slides you both under the covers.

You lay directly ontop of him with a thin sheet covering the both of you, sighing as he draws circles on your back.

[tipsydipsydo]

Der Geliebte

Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 6.4k 

Rating: 16+

AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!

Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)

Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other! 

A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae​ wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕 

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...

Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!) 

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

* Jungkook’s POV * 

"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"

 I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.

I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.

I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets? 

I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?

I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach. 

I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident  man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.

Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.

"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.

I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager. 

In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.

And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.

My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.

This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...

A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...

"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!

And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.

* Jungkook’s POV *

If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.

I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?

Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re  someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as  you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.

Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.

A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.

"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.

I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams. 

I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.

Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let    your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and  then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...

An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...

Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.

It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...

A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have  no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt  around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...

"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.

"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.

I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.

 "It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.

* The Reader’s POV *

Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house. 

It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.

You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work. 

But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.

When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.

So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.

Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.

Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.

To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.

Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.

His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.

This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.

The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?

With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.

After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.

Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...

Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.

As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.

"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips. 

"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.

Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.

The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.

"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...

[caramelcal]

his favorite club

warnings: swearing, arguing, talks of murder, gangs, use of weapons etc. don’t read if you are not comfortable with these! 

word count: 2.5k

a/n: HELLO!!!! WELCOME BACK TO THE NEXT LUKE/BAMBI POST!

thank you so much for all the love anons <3

requests: Anonymous asked:

Could you write a Luke x gang where him and the reader are fighting and maybe his arm goes up and she thinks he’s going to hit her but would never and it’s fluffy in the end?

Anonymous asked:

For the Luke x gang could you write something angsty like maybe he doesn’t come home on time like usual and y/n is really worried idk maybe goes to his place of business and it starts a big fight and the reader gets a bit scared of how mad he is? Idk you can take it in any direction.

Anonymous asked:

Loved the new Luke post. Was wondering if the next part could have some danger concerning the reader? Or maybe she sees the dangerous part of him and it scares her?

The only sound filling the apartment was the sounds of the small girl's shoes hitting off of the floor loudly, and the soft but irritating clicking of the clock that stood on the wall in front of her. It was 8:13 pm. Over an hour later than Luke had said he was going to be.

Bambi knew the dangers of the work that Luke lived in, but he had only ever been once late and even then, she had got a text explaining that he would be. Yet, this time, she never got a text, a call, nothing.

Radio silence.

Her stomach clenched up every time she thought about the possibilities of what could have happened to Luke. She wouldn't consider herself a pessimist, but she can't exactly say that she was expecting the best.

She was sure that if Luke didn't get home soon, the floor would have worn away from the amount of pacing she was doing right now. The clock continued to tick on, each movement from the small circular thing stuck on the wall bringing her more and more anxiety.

He should be home.

Maybe that's why she found herself in one of Luke's cars, somehow managing to sneak past the two members of Luke's gang that she had seen on the way down, and evading Jacob, Luke's personal driver.

In fact, Bambi hadn't driven a car since she moved in with Luke, always being driven around by either Jacob or Luke himself. It felt weird being behind a wheel again, but she didn't have time to dwell on it or soak up in the power she felt inkling into her chest before she was speeding out of the garage, onto the main highway of the city.

If Bambi was being honest, she probably broke about seven driving laws (if there were that many, probably, she thought) on the way to the club that Luke often found himself at. He never brought her there, and actually, forbid her from coming to altogether, but she knew he couldn't be too mad considering it was all about her concern about him.

From the moment she walked in, she felt out of place. Men in dark button-ups, cigarettes falling from their lips, women in minimal and sexy clothing, drinks all around. The red luminous lights of the bar being the only light provided. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for her tall boyfriend but it was really difficult.

A lot of the people in here were very tall, much taller than Bambi was, so trying to see over them was impossible. She was very out of place, alone, scared, and looked far too good to be in such a twisted club.

Somehow, she managed to make her way over to the bar, where she recognized a figure with his back turned towards her, making a cocktail. It was only seconds after when he turned around, dimpled face on display, he almost spilled the drink on him with how fast he stopped upon seeing her.

His eyes whipped around wildly around the club before walking over to her and whispering, "You shouldn't be here! Didn’t Luke forbid you from coming here? You need to leave!"

"Nice to see you too, Ash," Bambi couldn't help the sarcasm falling off of her lips before she asked, "Luke never got home. Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine, he just got caught up with some paperwork and stuff, he should be back soon,"

"Paperwork?" She asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at the gang member.

"Well yeah, just updating a file on the drug run today just to say it went well," Ashton shrugged lightly, "he should be done soon."

Even though Ashton shrugged it off well, Bambi knew he was lying. She could feel it in her bones, in her gut, that he was lying and she was determined to find out the truth.

She shrugged lightly, "Well if it's just paperwork then he won't mind me being there."

With that, she stalked away from the bar in search of the backrooms, wasting no time for Ashton to catch up with her as she went on her way. She walked around the back hallways, looking for any indication of Luke's presence.

The rooms were silent. All but one.

"Please! I don't know anything! Stop!" It was a plead filled with both pain and desperation but it was quickly cut off with the sound of a swift but powerful hit.

Her pulse raced, legs shakily making their way towards the room, gently pushing the door open. It was silent, the door, cracking open so that the small girl could see.

Bambi felt sick.

She could see her boyfriend’s blond curls held up in a hair tie she had loaned him earlier this morning, bloody hand reaching up high as he punched the poor boy on the chair again.

“I’ll give you one more chance before I use something more than my hand,” He threatened gruffly, causing Bambi to flinch. Her breath was caught in her throat, eyes welling up in tears. She knew she shouldn’t have been so upset, she knew her boyfriend was a gang member, but something about seeing him doing this to someone with the same hands that caressed her and made her feel safe felt...wrong.

Suddenly, Ashton entered another door that entered into the room that Luke was in, alerting both Luke and Michael, who had been overlooking the situation. Only then did Bambi realize that Luke had picked up an object, it glinting in the light as he moved towards the door that Ashton had entered.

Luke was holding a knife.

A soft gasp escaped Bambi’s lips, thankfully not loud enough for Luke to hear. She didn’t want him near her, not right now anyway. She didn’t even want him to look at her.

“She’s here! You need to stop, Luke!” Bambi took that as her clear to get the hell out of there. If what Ashton said was true, about Luke being mad she was here, she didn’t want him to find her. Not anymore, anyway.

She didn’t want him to get anywhere near him. How could she possibly sleep at night knowing the man that slept beside her, that played with her hair, that made her feel safe, did that to people? What if he got so mad that he did that to her?

She was being irrational, but at that moment she couldn’t help it.

She shuffled backward, away from the door that led to the room Luke was in, choosing to swiftly get away from him now that she could.

Now, she wasn’t scared for Luke, she was scared of Luke.

“Hey kid, where are you goin'?” Calum asked as she crashed into his chest, making her stumble back lightly, mouth ajar.

She went to speak, to come up with some excuse but she didn’t have time. She couldn’t sit here and entertain Calum with a nice, little conversation when she was trying to evade her boyfriend.

That’s why she just turned, maneuvering around her, and started to run.

“Bambi!” The girl became rigid as she heard him shout, becoming increasingly aware that he had caught up to her, and was planning on talking to her. It was almost as if she was frozen in place, unable to move into the car and unable to move towards him, not that she wanted to. However, she could hear him come to a stop behind her, his voice softer as he spoke, trying not to gather any attention towards the couple, “Why are you here? I thought I told you that you weren’t allowed at the club?”

Her mouth ran dry, unable to respond. In fact, she acted as if she never heard him speak, afraid of what he would do if she pissed him off. Yet, her silence was probably the most angering thing to the tall blond boyfriend of hers, which became obvious when he spoke next.

“Bambi? Let me get you out of here, I’ll drive,” He went to grab the car keys out of her hand, but she had seen his shadow when he went to grab them, quickly jerking out of his grasp, turning around, and staring up at him.

She didn’t miss the slight shock in his eyes when she did so, or the irritancy that bubbled deep beneath. Her throat felt thick, clouded, but she quickly cleared it, voice forceful as she stared up at the gang member, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Bambi, what the hell are you talking about? Just let me drive and we can talk about this when we get home lets not cause a scene,” Luke was trying to reason with the girl, not cause a scene in front of his men, but Bambi was not having it. She wasn’t about to get into a car with him, shaking her head wildly, “Bambi.”

His tone was a warning, deep voice, cold tone. It was demanding but Bambi was not in the mood for Luke to boss her about, especially not right now.

“What? You don’t want people to realize that we’re fighting and that I’m your girlfriend, is that it?” The words were flying out of the girl’s mouth before she could stop them and Luke’s blue eyes glared down at her, his jaw ticking.

“Is this really what this is about?” Luke asked, referring to the argument they had gone through all of those weeks ago. Yet, that it isn’t. The problem was that Bambi saw something she wasn’t supposed to, that Luke had tried to shield her from as best as he could. Even if it meant that she wasn’t allowed near his favorite club.

“You nearly killed him, Luke.”

Her voice was painfully quiet, muttering in a way that makes it obvious she had to force the words out. Her fists are clenched at her sides, her eyes looking down to evade the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Bambi you don’t know what you saw-”

“You had a knife, Luke! I saw you punch him just look at your hands right now they’re-” She stopped briefly, glancing down at the man’s hands, the ones that gave her such tender, sweet love. The ones that made her feel safe, yet now? All she seen was all of the blood coating them, some dry some relatively fresh, “they’re covered in his blood.”

Luke flexed his hands slightly, feeling the blood coating them become ever so evident, “What else am I supposed to do? What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? I work in a fucking gang, you knew this.”

“I didn’t think-” The girl cut herself off, shaking her head as tears rose to her eyes, shielding her view.

“What the fuck do you think I do? Hand out fucking rainbow stickers and give them a nice hug? That’s not how this works, you know this,” His voice was harsh, and slowly rising to a loud level, and all Bambi wants is to go and hide away from him; to be by herself. She can’t handle this, not right now.

“How can you expect me to be ok with this?” The girl asked, “It’s sick! It’s twisted! You could have killed that guy!”

“Don’t suddenly go getting morals just because you saw a bit of fucking blood! We’re leaving. Now,” His voice is demanding, loud and borderline shouting, his hand coming down towards her rapidly to grab the car keys off of her but then he froze at the movement from the small girl in front of him.

She flinched.

Silence filled them both.

The tears that tracked down her face started to build in his eyes, his heart dropping to his feet when he saw the girl cower. It was barely for a second when she shielded her head, in the same place he had hit that guy barely five minutes before like he was going to hit her.

He spluttered with his mouth ajar. Bambi, his Bambi, the one he had worked so hard to protect, to love, to cherish, was scared of him. He just wanted to comfort her, to hold her close and let her know that everything was going to be okay. Yet, he couldn’t comfort her that he would battle all her fears when he was what she was scared of.

“Bambi...” It was a sad plead.

The girl never replied, tears becoming thicker as she shook her head. She was overcome with emotions. Afraid, sad, ashamed, angry; she wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling at that moment.

“Bambi I’d never...”

The girl wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Never in his whole life had Luke felt so ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he would ever let a fragment of his girl believe he would ever harm her or put her in harm’s way.

He would do everything to make sure she was okay.

“I need to go,” The girl gingerly wiped her tears with her -Luke’s- jumper, the large sleeves rolled up but still covering her hands fully. She entered the car and Luke made no move to stop her, he didn’t care that she had taken one of his cars at that moment, he didn’t care that she had disobeyed his orders of coming to the club, he didn’t care about anything other than how he had wronged her.

Then, he was left by himself, in the middle of the club’s back parking lot, blood still coating his hands that even made him feel sick now. The cold night air nipped at his skin, yet again reminding him that he was void of her warmth. He was all alone.

He returned home all of twenty minutes later, a fresh pair of clothes on and hands bare of blood. The house was quiet but he knew that she was there, the bedroom door ever so slightly ajar, a faint light emitting from the room.

He leaned against the door frame, watching her with a sullen face as she packed. She was only packing a few outfits, not anything major as she sniffed lightly. She was still crying, Luke noticed, and it made his heart ache, “I’m leaving for Anna’s. I just need some time.”

Luke knew he was in no position to argue with the girl right now. She was fragile enough as it is, and even if Luke didn’t want her to leave, she needed space and he respected that.

She slung the overnight bag over her shoulder, hefting it up, “I’ve called an Uber. They’re waiting downstairs.”

Luke nodded as Bambi stopped in front of him, and almost hesitantly, he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead, “Stay safe, ok? I love you.”

The girl nodded her head, sending the boy a tight-lipped smile before leaving, leaving Luke alone once again. Yet, despite the heartbreak, he felt in that moment as she left, he knew this wasn’t the end. He’d manage to make it up to her, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t rest easy until he did.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s 4th Birthday Story Event: Before the Clock Strikes Midnight

REEEEEEEE Ik it was a long time ago but life has been a [redacted], so I figured better late than never HAHA

So without further ado, anybody who’s curious feel free to click for more--I’ll put it under a cut for spoilers as per usual~

So in this story it’s the usual, a few days before his birthday, and they’re discussing a bump in the road. Essentially, it appears a friend of Comte’s is going to be celebrating a wedding, and as such he’s going into the suburbs/affluent part of the region to be able to attend. It’s only a few hours away from the mansion, but he will be gone for a few days with the arrangements made for his stay. 

While this wouldn’t typically be an issue, MC has some things to take care of and opts out of attending with him (preparing for his bday probably LMAO) and Comte is immediately big sad. My favorite dramatic fool is already pouting, though he fully accepts and respects her decision. Besides which, he fully intends to be back in time to celebrate his birthday as well. He notes that he’s always admired how driven and independent she is, and has no intention of getting in the way of that. He’s just going to miss her, is all.

He says as much, figuring there’s no point in hiding it: “I really wanted to bring you with me to attend…but I suppose it simply can’t be helped” … “That’s not it…I guess I’m just wondering if you’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss you while I’m away.” 

And MC’s just like “Aw, it’s okay it’ll only be a few days.” While Comte’s response is a very mature, high-pitched whining sound at a frequency only King (Theo’s dog) and Theo himself can hear. When MC tries to reassure him once more, his Hamlet impression continues: “Even the prospect of a few days away from you feels unbearable.” 

Naturally, as any man do that loves his wife, he draws her close and proceeds to bang the living daylights out of her. I would offer details, but I have no deets to give beyond: [Well MC, it appears I won’t be letting you get much sleep tonight.] 

Brief intermission for the vague sounds of fangirl cardiac arrest. 

The scene opens again to him doing his walk of shame (the slut) down the walkway and into the carriage that will take him to his friend’s house. His thoughts carry the regret of burdening her with his desire, though MC is pretty much on cloud nine and unable to stop thinking about the heady night they shared in a good way. Bruh and the sly look when he figures out why she looks like that--I’m boutta call the police, he is going to make women and men alike act up. 

MC scrambles to cool his already returning desire by insisting he will be late if he indulges any further, and he laughs and agrees easily–albeit with the slightest hint of reluctance. My favorite part in this exchange is that he kisses her forehead, adding that it’s because she’s the most adorable person in the world to him (a moment of silence for our uwus). 

Fast forward to Comte trying to get home after the festivities are over. Problem is, it’s been raining like a mOTHERBLEEPER, and as such carriages have no safe way to traverse the roads at the moment. He waited out the first day as patiently as possible, but after the second–and no sign of stopping–his Leeroy Jenkins instincts kick in. He notes to the coachman that he’s aware he’s asking a lot, but they fully intend to take the long way which invites the least risk–and the rain is ebbing, even if the progress is slow. 

It’s interesting because there’s another echo of his main story in this moment. He essentially showcases a desperation to return before the day ends, though without context it’ll probably seem a little strange, so I’ll do my best to explain. Basically, in his main story, MC notes that she doesn’t really care how different they are. Different time, different species, different experiences, so on and so forth. She hammers home that what matters is that the present is something that they actively share. It’s theirs. And no amount of divisions he desperately tries to draw will change that fundamental reality. 

And it’s a little moving to see how deeply he takes it to heart? I think it’s one of those wonderful phenomena, personally–the way a person can influence how you think and act with their sentiments. Sometimes someone says precisely what it is we need to hear, and it changes us–while it can be for the worse, it can also be for the better. He notes that he spent so many birthdays; among the people serving his house when he was little, raising hell with his friends in his younger days, so on and so forth. Not unlike Leonardo, he says that after so many “special” days the faces become a blur, the festivities lose their luster. It’s just another day, at this point. 

Note, one interesting thing here that stands out to me is that I feel like this is a reflection of both of their larger struggles. Where Comte can’t stand the relentless flow of time rendering him the only constant (and something of a ghost, never fully present), Leonardo can’t bear birthdays because it means remembering people who still mean the world to him, but are long gone. People he can never see again, never laugh with again, never share his life with again. And I think that’s a very profound pain, an anguish that just keeps on settling its weight. (Oh, Sisyphus…)

Comte’s is similar, but different. He actively works to keep his distance-- unlike Leonardo, he approaches immortality in the pragmatic way. He knows getting close will hurt, so he opts out of that–keeps a step behind, an easy smile on his face. Betrays only fragments to anyone, always has his guard up. But the downside of being so guarded means you eventually feel hollowed out and alone; nobody truly knows or understands you. There is a distinct loneliness in that approach, where memories only become reminders of how nothing ever improves and how bereft you are of warmth. 

Leonardo, at least, gets to have the joy of being known from time to time. But loss and estrangement from those people means double the pain in the long run, because he loved them fully. Comte chooses to live in the cold to protect himself, but ends up in a kind of catch-22; the cost of forgoing loss means a constant deadening of his own feelings. It means living in a kind of fog, where there is a distinct discomfort in the silent obscurity of your own heart. 

There’s something I’ve come to believe in my short course of living, so I guess I still need time to determine how true it is. But…I feel like, when people live this way, where who they are is a lie or it’s at the very least carefully concealed, we in part start to become that lie. I think it’s fascinating because Comte seems to have so much personality to him. He’s dramatic, he’s thoughtful, he has a sense of mischief about him, he has strong ideals, and he has an even more ironclad moral grounding. And yet, when he talks about himself, he always uses descriptions that hinge on emptiness. Like he’s worth so little, worth nothing. And that’s what I mean–he’s been trying so hard to glide on the surface that he has come to believe he really is equivalent to something that ephemeral. Like there’s nothing more inside him, or if there is, that it will never be worthy of much. I think it really speaks to the ways behavior impacts the psyche, even though the opposite tends to be considered the only possible cause and effect relationship. 

He’s so determined to live for and in the future while he’s in the present, that he forgets to enjoy himself and really live. And while that approach is certainly understandable, I do think he loses parts of himself along the way. Only to be rediscovered and placed back into his hands by MC: [Today–this moment–our now, I don’t want to miss it for anything.] And that's not even touching on how quick she is to make them a we; she's not letting him keep that distance. It’s not “you have the ability to share this day with me” it’s “we’re here and in this together.”

I feel like what I love about this is that it’s not only about how sweet he is on MC, but also about how much he’s truly living again for the first time. His defenses are slowly inching their way down, he’s letting himself hope and want things and look forward to things again. The thing about being a responsible person is that–while responsibility is all well and good–sometimes you become so mired in doing the right thing and planning the most optimal outcomes that you just aren’t thinking of yourself anymore. That is, if you ever were to begin with. He went from the careful cultivation of a life as an aristocrat, to a life that spoke of more freedom and fun beyond those iron wrought gates, before he returned to the structure of what he knew. Freedom speaks to him I’m sure–we all need it in some measure to survive. But I do think a good portion of that was unfulfilling for him after a point. It was only feeding the void that was beginning to form inside him. He was instinctively retreating into himself to avoid pain, and in doing that the only result was feeling like a coward and a fake. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t able to be himself, and nothing was fulfilling–every single day just another forward march. 

I think it comes as no surprise he took up Vlad’s initial invitation so willingly. 

But then I digress, back to the story. There’s another timeskip and it finds him racing down the hall of the mansion. He’s hoping to make it in time but knows he’s racing against the clock, and fully expects MC to be asleep by this point in the night. Midway along his path he thinks he spots MC and falters in his step, blinking. He decides to hang back, watching the figure enter his room with a great deal of curiosity and resists every urge to burst in after her. He hears MC speak into his pillow, her voice muffled but clearly despondent: “I miss you, Comte. I hope you get back home soon…” 

Comte pretty much dies right there. I literally have no better explanation for it. He freezes, his heart sputters and stops. He’s just completely taken aback. 

And then, naturally, he goes about feral with desire as is his modus operandi: “Oho, I heard something incredibly cute just now. Were you also having a hard time spending so long apart?”

MC: “…!”

[Startled, she turns around and her eyes widen and widen.]

MC: “Comte, how...”

Comte: “Took a detour in areas with less rain.”

MC: “?? Wouldn’t that still be hard in weather like this?”

Comte: “I told the coachman I wanted to see you as soon as possible. Even if it was only for a second, I wanted to spend today with you…”

[Everything I was thinking while in the carriage spills out of me long before I can help it. I am reminded again of just how utterly irreplaceable an existence MC is in my life.]

Comte: “Even so, it seems interesting that I would find you in my bed”

MC: “...! A--Ah, I’m so sorry for entering without permission!”

[I quickly grab hold of her before she can scramble out of my bed, coaxing her to sink back into the sheets.]

In between a lot of intense making out and [redacted], the larger overtone is that her reciprocated ardor just destroys him inside:

MC: “It was...because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about wanting to see you…”

Comte: “!”

[You know just how to drive me mad with desire.]

Comte: “I’m the same...the first thing I did was look for you. Even though it was only a few days, your voice, your body, everything...I missed you”

[Because today, our ‘now’--I never want to lose a single moment with you as long as you’re by my side...]

Comte: “I’m so happy to be able to be with you, right here and right now.”

It gets funny too because Comte is trying to take it slow, but when she tells him “Happy birthday” and goes on to say she was so glad to greet the day he was brought into the world by his side, he just loses all control LMFAO. It ends with them getting more heated and [redacted], to the point where he doesn’t even hear the clock strike midnight. 

And if him being the cutest and sexiest romantic wasn’t obvious enough, he spends the next morning just sighing blissfully with her in his arms:

[The next morning, when I wake up, MC is still fast asleep. I mean, given she only fell asleep a few hours ago. I’m still reveling in the afterglow of a sweet night filled with her cries, the way she looked at me and held me. MC...]

[I relax to the sound of her breathing steady with sleep, stroking gently at her hair as I hug her from behind.]

Comte: “I’ve had countless birthdays. In an endless life, I was convinced it was just a day that would come and go every time.”

Comte: “It was only after meeting you that I could understand there was no such thing as an overlapping or identical moment. I don’t want to miss a single second by your side...that’s what I think now.”

[I admit the truth of my heart, brushing a kiss against her cheek. Over and over and over again, showering her in my affection--]

But dun dun dun!!! MC was awake the whole time, so when she fidgets a little at how ticklish his kisses are, he 👁

[Oh, I see. Well then, two can play at that game...]

Comte: “Your punishment is to stay in my arms just as we are...how’s that?”

He gets his mischievous (and hilarious) revenge for being revealed (HORNY TIME), though it’s so suffused with love it’s hard to call it revenge hahaha. She reminds him to go easy on her because they have his birthday party to attend later, and he agrees~

Honestly after such killer hurt/comfort spice fluff, I can only tremble at the thought of what his 5th year bday story will be

It’s either going to be Some Angst^TM or even more killer fluff, and either way that means my days are numbered

[lacontroller1991]

Is She Mine? (Negan x Wife!Reader)

Anon Request: can you do a negan imagine where the reader was his real wife before the walkers came and after he starts getting more wives and kinda forgets the reader, she leaves in the middle of the night. Then maybe a year later, Negan finds out about another community and tries to take their stuff but he and the saviors get captured and they find out that the reader is the leader? (Optional: maybe the reader was pregnant and Began didn’t know and finds out about the kid)

A/N: Ok I will always associate Negan with Denny Duquette because I watched Grey's before I watched Walking dead and it’s just so weird seeing Jeffrey in a completely different setting.

Warnings: Normal TWD gore, language

You watched from the back as your husband, Negan, pressed another iron to a poor man’s face, causing you to wince as the screams of pain and smell of burnt flesh invaded your nostrils. You looked toward the other wives who looked just as disgusted at what your husband was doing.

You were his first and he was never like this. Always kind and compassionate but then the dead began to rise and he felt the need to grow a shell around his personality, forming an alter ego that everyone knew. No one knew the real Negan, only you, and it made you sick to your stomach watching him turn so sadistic. Shaking your head, you walked away from the group of people that were watching the poor torturing of another worker who dared challenge Negan’s authority. Making your way to your room, you were soon joined by the other wives who ignored you for the most part. They sat throughout the room and talked amongst themselves, reading books or downing drinks that stocked the bar. 

“Well would you look at this, all of my wives are looking so divine tonight,” Negan stated as you all looked at him, waiting for his next pick. Whenever he complimented his “collection” it always meant he was wanting sex and would choose one of his wives to satisfy his needs. For the past three months, it hasn’t been you. It’s never you anymore. It’s always one of the younger and prettier ones who weren’t “forced” but were forced to marry him. Swinging his baseball bat around, the girls ignored his eagerness as his eyes surveyed the room, purposely skipping the corner in which you stood, crossing your arms over the small bump that was beginning to form.

“Tina, come with me my dear,” he spoke out after a moment of silence as Tina nodded and followed him out. Once the pair left, you turned around, hiding your face from the rest of the girls before a pair of heels clicked their way over to you.

“How are you?” Sherry asked as you looked at her with an exasperated look.

“Sick, morning sickness is no joke, and he doesn't even know,” you mumbled as she grasped your shoulder in a comforting way before pulling you into a hug.

“You need to get away,” she whispered in your ear as you nodded with a frown.

“I know.”

You sat in your room, hoping Negan would join you tonight like he did when he first started the Sanctuary. As the clock ticked, however, you realized he wasn’t going to join you, again. Sighing, you sat up and tore off the black dress that hugged your figure and traded it for a pair of jeans and a hoodie, making sure to pack a bag of food and water before sneaking out of the compound and into the neighboring woods, never looking back.

That was years ago and you had joined a small community after journeying into the woods for a couple of days. Sooner than later, after their leader fell ill, the people had decided that with your knowledge and natural leadership qualities that you would be the best fit for the role. You insisted that you wouldn’t take the role, but they were insistent on the job as you had caved in. You sat peacefully on the steps of your hut as you heard a sequel from behind you, watching your daughter run out of the house, being chased by another one of the communities kids. Smiling, you were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by the bell ringing throughout the community.

“What’s going on?” You asked one of the guards as your daughter joined your side, clutched to a scarf that you had tied around your pants for her to cling to.

“Our Ops surrounded a group of men. They demand that they speak to the leader of the community,” one of your men stated as you grabbed a walkie talkie.

“Tate, how many?” You asked and waited for a reply.

“15, they call themselves the Saviors. We have them surrounded,” Tate replied, however, you didn’t hear the rest after the mention of the Saviors.

“(Y/N)?” Earl asked, looking you over as you froze in shock. Feeling the tugging at your waist, you looked down and saw your daughter who had his hair and eye shape stare back up at you.

“Mommy, you okay?” She asked as you smiled down at her and pet her hair, smoothing out fly aways.

“Mommy needs you to stay here okay? Don’t come out until I come and get you,” you stated, motioning for one of the other mothers in the community to watch over your kid. Walking away, you grabbed one of the rifles and followed your group out to the woods to meet the man who forgot you.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” You asked from behind the line of men that barricaded the group.

“We are here to hopefully discuss trading opportunities,” Negan stated, not picking up on voice recognition.

“And by trading opportunities you mean pillaging and plundering.”

“If it comes to it, yes.” Simon spoke as you rolled your eyes, making your way through the crowd to the front to face your husband.

“Not a fan,” you spoke with rigor as you saw Negan stiffen, finally comprehending who was behind him.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, straining against the rope around his wrists.

“Hi honey. Miss me?” You asked with spite as you circled his group, coming to face him.

“As a matter of fact I do,” he admitted and for a second your face softened before turning back to a shell.

“We don't want to trade with you.”

“Babe, you should, I wouldn’t want to use force on you,” he replied with a sick smirk as you let out a laugh.

“I don't think you're in much position to bargain right now, sweetie,” you spat out as he growled and tried to launch forward to you, only to fail.

“Mommy!” Your daughter called out to you as you froze, Negan noticed and looked at you quizzically before turning his attention to the little girl who ran toward you.

“Baby, what did I say?”

“To stay back.”

“Now why are you out here?”

“I don’t have my doll,” she spoke softly as you sighed and ran a hand through your hair before pulling out her doll from your pocket.

“Is she mine?” He asked, earning confused stares from everyone in your group and his. Both groups knew that you are married, they just didn't know that you were pregnant or that your kid was Negan’s.

“It's none of your concern anymore,” you replied, pushing your kid behind you while she peered at the man in front of you.

“(Y/N), if she's mine I have the right to have her with me.”

“Not anymore, you lost that right when you started sleeping around with other women. Listen, we’ll let you go if you promise to never come back here again. if you do come back, we will kill you on sight.” Nodding, he remained silent and glanced over to your daughter who was around 4 years old now.

“Are we letting them go?” Tate asked as you nodded, walking away from the scene, taking your daughter’s hand and leading her away from her father.

Later that night you strolled through the yard and checked everything over before you heard a roar of a car come up to the gates.

“(Y/N), I think it’s him,” one of the guards yelled to you as you nodded, signaling them to let you past the gates and out to the open where Negan leaned against his car.

“Is she?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” He asked with a hint of remorse scattered across his face as you looked at him.

“I tried, I tried getting you to come to my room every night to tell you but you were so busy with all of your other wives that you never did. So I ran. I knew it isn’t safe there for her, it’s not safe there for me either.”

“How far were you when you left?”

“Three months. Her name is Sarah,” you mentioned as he smiled softly and looked at you.

“She looks like you,” he mumbled as you scoffed and looked over your shoulder, looking up at the guards who had their rifles aimed at him.

“She acts like you,” you smiled meekly, running your palms down your jeans.

“I never meant to ignore you. I’m sorry I did, but I would really like to be apart of her life,” he stated as he took your hands in his and you couldn’t find the heart to pull away, missing the physical attention he gave from time to time.

“It's not going to work.”

“(Y/N), please, she’s mine. I am her father. At least let me meet her.”

“No Negan. You’re not safe for her. The sanctuary isn't safe for her. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.”

“Your pity won’t work on me. I’m not weak anymore.” “You never were,” he admitted as you locked eyes with him, drawn in by his hypnotic gaze but quickly pulled away. Thinking for a minute, you sighed in defeat.

“If you want her in your life, here are some rules. Your Saviors leave us alone, if one of them comes near here that isn’t you, your privilege to see Sarah are gone, as well as your men. You can come by twice a month by yourself and you will be supervised by me. Under no circumstance is she going to the Sanctuary. Deal?” You rambled as he nodded before pulling you into his arms, wrapping around you tightly.

“Thank you. I really do miss you,” he whispered as you stood still before slowly melting in his hug, relishing the way his body heat covers you.

“I miss you too. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t.” He replied before pulling away and getting in his car, driving away, leaving you to ponder all of your thoughts.

A/N OMG THIS IS SO LONG TOO

[thedarklightwithinus]

Part One; Avengers MC

Summary; The beginning. 

Series Masterlist.

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The day had started out just like any for Y/N. She had awoken from her slumber in the passenger side of the car she and her sister were using for their road trip around America and switched seats with her sister whose turn it was to sleep while she continued the drive along the lone road.

They had taken to driving through the night until they made it to the destination in which they had picked out when they had last sopped for a few days. The pair would not plan their journey outright but rather plan their next move once they were settled from the previous long drive.

Around midday, the two sisters had pulled in to a small town with a population of three hundred people, give or take. At least, that's what the sign welcoming them had said.

Y/N pulled in to the only bar she had managed to find, parking up a good distance away from the door. She let out a breath, turning the engine off and slouching in her seat for a moment. While she relaxed, she took in the structure of the bar.

The bar didn't look to be brand new but then, it didn't look to be run down either. It looked as though it was maintained enough to where the owners were happy with the rustic look it gave off. The longer she looked at it, the more Y/N came to like the look of it.

Y/N sighed once more, turning to look at her sleeping sister. Even while she slept, Peggy looked as though she had stepped straight out of a magazine cover. Her brown hair sat in casual curls that framed her face to perfection while her lashes fluttered as she slept.

With a quick glance at the bar, Y/N pushed herself forward and pulled the key from the car ignition. She turned her body, resting her hand on Peggy's thigh and shaking it slightly. "Peg? We're here."

The brunette mumbled something, beginning to awake from her slumber. Y/N gave her a moment to shed to sleep from her brain. "What time is it?" Peggy mumbled, pulling the car sun visor down and checking her appearance in the small mirror.

"Just gone one." Y/N told her, nodding out Peggy's window at the bar. "This seems to be the only bar in town. I drove around for a little while. just to be sure but I suppose it doesn't look too bad. I kind of like it."

"Yes. I suppose the longer you look at it the more welcoming it looks." Peggy nodded, tilting her head as she took in the building.

"Right?" Y/N nodded, agreeing with her older sister. "We going in then?"

"Of course. My bottoms starting to go numb from being in this car for so long."

Y/N chuckled at Peggy, shaking her head as she opened the car door and climbed out. She waited until Peggy had closed her door before she locked it with the key.

She moved around the car, walking alongside Peggy as they advanced on the bar, taking in more of the structure the closer they got. Y/N could hear the steady beat of rock music that she knew would dominate the atmosphere once they were inside

Peggy reached out, gripping the door handle and pushing it open. The hinges squealed, almost as a warning to those inside. Once the door was open enough for the two women to enter, they quickly did.

"Jesus..." Y/N trailed off, not expecting the bar to be so welcoming.

Almost instantly, she felt as though she wanted to soak in the laughter and the chatter that was barely audible over the sound of the rock music. The lights were slightly dim, illuminating that of the bottle stacked up behind the bar while the neon signs that were screwed to some of the walls added to the wonderful colours.

"Bar or booth?" Peggy tore Y/N from her own thoughts.

"Bar." She answered, not wanting to take up a whole booth for just the two of them.

As she followed after her sister, Y/N kept her eyes on the back of Peggy's head. She didn't want to risk looking at someone within the bar and have a re-play of the events that happened weeks prior because she 'looked at a man funny.'

Although she initially felt that she and Peggy didn't belong within the walls, she knew that as the time goes on, they'll be more comfortable in the bar.

The two made it to the bar and took the two stools that wouldn't cause them to be out in the open and easily bothered. The bartender, a tall thin man with dark, shoulder length hair was cleaning a pallet of glasses at the other end of the bar. He spotted them and called to someone through the opening behind that bar that lead to somewhere Y/N was unsure of.

Seconds later, an even taller man came out, smiling politely at the sisters. Compared to the first guy, this one was much different. He had muscles enough for him and two other men and long blonde hair that was pushed out of his face by a blue bandana. "What can I get you both?"

"Can we get two gin and lemonade's please?" Peggy politely asked, returning the smile.

"Coming right up." He nodded, turning on his heal to grab two glasses. He filled them with ice before moving over to the spirit's and choosing the one he wanted.

"Can you make them double's please?" Y/N asked after a second thought.

"Rough day?" The blonde chuckled, looking at the time with a raise of a brow.

"Long day." Y/N said, thanking him when he handed over the two drinks. "You take card, right?"

The man from before suddenly appeared from behind the blonde and held out a card machine. Y/N took it with a small thanks and shoved her card in it, waiting or it to read her card.

"I'm just going to pop to the bathroom a moment." Peggy all but whispered in Y/N's ear who nodded.

"You two aren't from around here?" The blonde asked the obvious question.

"We're travelling through America." Y/N answered politely. "We're from England. Peggy's always wanted to see America for herself. Ever since we we're little girls so we've both decided to finally do it."

"It sound's like fun." The blonde grinned, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to speak. "So, you're sisters? Full sisters? Adopted?"

Y/N frowned, taking a sip of her drink and eyeing the blonde as though he really wasn't all there. The silence seemed to pull the other guy back over as he looked at Y/N's awkward face while the blonde continued to grin.

"We're full sisters..." Y/N said after another moments silence.

"Ah, he's adopted you see, still brothers though." The blonde added after a seconds though clearly realising his awkward mistake. "Loki and I are as close as can be."

"That's debatable, Thor."

"I'll go ahead and assume your parent's were big on mythology?"

"Our great-grandparent's actually." Loki said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the card machine and walked away.

"Don't mind him, he's a lone wolf."

It was as Loki walked away that she finally realised that he was wearing some type of leather vest. She had never seen one in the flesh but had seen them on pictures and shows. "Are you guys in a gang?" She found herself asking, regretting it almost instantly.

Thor laughed, a full belly one as he chucked his head back and grinned. "Not a gang no. A club."

"A... Motorcycle club?"

"Indeed." Thor nodded, motioning to the picture on the wall beside his head. Y/N stood up from her stool and moved towards the wall to get a better look at the picture.

Stood in three lines were men of many different shapes and sizes all grinning or laughing at the camera and all wearing the same leather jackets with different wears and tears. Y/N looked out the corner of her eye at the patches on Thor's and read the tope one.

Avengers MC.

Before she had a chance to say anything, the doors flew open and loud laughter filled her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see a group of well built and overly tall bed enter the bar with grins that matched that of the picture.

"Boys!" Thor grinned, welcoming them into the bar instantly.

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[marvelslut16]

I missed you, Doll

Prompt number: 13 “I missed this”

Fandom: Marvel 

Paring: 40s!Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, spinsters, and 

A/N: Like always, I procrastinated so this isn’t really up to my standards. I really wanted to use a lot more 40s slang but I was running out of time. Either way, first time writing for 40s Bucky, and Bucky in general, but I absolutely love 40s Bucky. Also slight AU I suppose since Hydra and the serum don’t exist in this story. 

Growing up being best friends with Steve and Bucky caused many in the neighborhood to look down upon you, the older women in the neighborhood found it unbecoming that a  young lady was spending her time with boys. Their distaste for you only seemed to grow when you started to wear trousers in your teenage years, that way you could keep up with Bucky and you could move around easier to defend Steve. Now in your early twenties your neighbors consider you to be a spinster. 

You were about to practically beg Stevie to marry you, your parents would never approve but at least that way they would get off your back, but they arranged for you to marry a man fresh out of the army. His name is Bernard, he’s in his early forties and with just a few chaperoned dates you could tell he had an alcohol problem, a souse. He made it very clear that he didn’t like pants on a lady and if you ever wanted a proposal from him that you would have to wear skirts and dresses only. Your parents heard the ultimatum and burned every pair of trousers in your possession, leaving you with no other option than the flowy garments. After your parents forced you to say yes to his proposal Bernard forbade you from seeing Steve, your best friend and last connection to Bucky.

Every night you would cry yourself to sleep to the picture of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, the edges frayed from how often you clutched it. The picture was never far from your reach, always keeping it by your side tucked into a pocket of your handbag. Bernard didn’t know of the photo and neither did your parents, Bucky would send your letters to Steve’s apartment knowing they wouldn’t be intercepted by your overbearing parents that way. 

Bucky Barnes was a dream boat, he had women practically throwing themselves at his feet, even the married women. He would flirt with you constantly, but he flirted with every woman so you didn’t let it get to your head, especially when he started to date Dot before he was deployed. Much like every other woman you fell for Bucky and his charm, especially the caring side only you and Steve saw first hand. You had hoped that over the years his feelings would grow to match your own, but he never seemed to want to settle down, especially with you. 

Your father is throwing a party today, one where he officially announces to your relatives that you're engaged to Bernard and to be married by the end of the year. You can’t help but hide in a quiet corner and cry, you imagined this day since you were a child and none of it was how you imagined. Your father wasn’t announcing your engagement to Bucky, Steve by his side- he wasn’t even invited to the party. And neither was Rebecca Barnes, your best friend besides the boys and practically your sister. 

A knock on the door pulls you away from your silent tears, figuring it’s another guest for your party. You stand and flatten your blue dress with white polka dots and wipe your eyes with your gloved fingers, before faking a smile and opening the door. The figure on the other side of said door is the last person you ever expected to see again. Standing before you in all his glory is Bucky still in uniform, he looks stronger and even more handsome than when he left almost a year ago. 

Before you can say anything he swoops you into a hug, lifting you from the ground and spinning you around happily. When he sets you back on your feet he keeps his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You bury your own face into his strong shoulder, trying not to shake and alert him to the tears falling from your eyes. 

“I missed this,” he murmurs into your hair, strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him. “I missed you, doll.”

“I missed you too, Bucky,” your voice breaks, Bucky tries to pull away to see what’s wrong when he hears this. But you won’t let him. You just want a few more moments of bliss before you're never allowed to see him or be in his arms again. 

“You stopped writing to me doll, why?” hurt laces his voice, causing your shoulders to shake as tears stream harder and faster. This time Bucky successfully pulls away slightly, right hand reaching up to caress your face, his calloused thumb wiping the tears away as they fall. “Steve and Rebecca both told me I needed to come see for myself when they picked me up from the station earlier. But you look fine, beautiful even, even if you aren’t in trousers. I wrote to you last month hoping you’d be there to pick me up. 

“(Y/N), sweetheart, who’s at the door?” before you can tell Bucky of the new developments, Bernard’s voice pulls you away from Bucky. You take a giant step away from the man you love, his face falls as his hand slips from your cheek, you look at the ground in hopes to calm your nerves and stop your tears. 

“Who are you?” there’s malice in Bucky’s voice as Bernard rounds the corner and into the front room with you and Bucky.

“I’m Bernard, (Y/N)’s future husband,” Bernard glares up at Bucky, turning to you and kissing you on the cheek, the stench of alcohol rolling off of him in waves. You try to pull away from his chapped lips but his arm snakes around your waist to keep you close, hand too close to your rear for your liking. “Who are you?”

“Sergeant James Barnes,” Bucky straightens his back and squares his shoulders, towering over Bernard in hopes to intimidate the older man. “I’m (Y/N)’s best friend and I was hoping to speak with her, seeing as how I just got home.”

“Seeing as she’s promised to me,” you let out a yelp as Bernard’s fingers dig painfully into your hip bone. “I’m afraid that’s inappropriate and I cannot allow it.”

“(Y/N) who’s at the door?” you father calls, too busy squirming trying to get out of Bernard’s hold you don’t answer him. He soon rounds the corner, eyes widening as he sees who's at the door. 

“Mr. (Y/L/N),” Bucky’s voice is strained as he glares at your father, his face softens as he turns to look at you. “Doll, tell me he’s treating you well and I’ll be on my way.”

“He’s not,” Bernard's grip so tightly you're surprised he hasn’t broken your bone or his fingers. “I can’t marry him Bucky, I tried to say no. No to marrying him, no to going on dates, but they forced me to.”

Bucky’s jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth down hard. He reaches forward, roughly grabbing Bernard’s hand and removing it from your waist, and gently pulling you into his arms. The sergeant’s deadly glare leaves Bernard and lands on your father. 

“You knew of my intentions with your daughter,” you know he’s fighting to keep his voice low so as not to alert the guests in the other rooms of the house. “And you still tried to arrange her to marry someone else while I was gone?”

“What are you talking about,” you rest your hand on Bucky’s chest as you stare hopefully into his crystal blue eyes. 

“I would like to know that too,” Bernard glares at both men in the room. 

“Before I left,” Bucky pushes a stray hair away from your eyes, talking to you as if you're the only in the room with him. “I made my intentions clear to your father that when I got home, if you’d have me that is, I wanted to marry you.”

“You do?” tears start to well up in your eyes, but for the first time in a long time they’re happy tears. Bucky nods, calloused thumb caressing your cheek again. “What about Dot? You two seemed to be going steady before you left.”

“She was in love with her milkman, and I was in love with you,” Bucky rests his forehead on yours. “I wanted to keep it a secret, ask you to marry me in person. But I couldn't wait any longer so I asked you in a letter, but then you stopped responding and I was worried I scared you off.”

“You could never scare me off Buck,” your hands slide up his chest and into the short strands of his chestnut hair. “I love you too much for that. Why else would I put up with you all these years?”

For the second time today, Bucky lifts you off your feet and twirls you around. “You’re making me the happiest man alive,” Bucky murmurs as he sets your giggling self down. “So doll, (Y/N), the love of my life, my best friend, would you put me out of my misery and be my wife?”

Bucky drops to his knee and pulls out the ring Steve brought to the station with him earlier, the ring Bucky bought for you before being shipped off, the ring that he wanted to give you before he left but he didn’t have your father’s permission. The diamond glints on the rays of sunlight streaming in from the picture window in the room. “Yes! Yes, of course!” you nod happily, and Bucky grins up at you as he slides the ring on your finger- it’s a perfect fit. 

You can hear the protests from Bernard and your father behind you, but both you and Bucky choose to ignore them. You don’t care about what either of them have to say, all you care about is the future you’ll finally get to have with Bucky, the man you’ve always loved. Bucky stands up and pulls you in for a searing kiss, your first ever kiss. Sparks shoot from your lips down to your toes, causing them to curl in pleasure. It’s a kiss you’ll remember for a lifetime, one you'll tell your children and grandchildren about. And there was no one you’d rather share it with than one James Buchanan Barnes.

Permeant tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 4

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter devastation. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Pairing- Chris Hems x Reader x Liam Hems

Word count- 2,211

Warnings- Smut, swearing, angst, cheating

18+ Only!!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 29th June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings @longlostinanotherworld

>The Destructive Secret Masterlist<

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, silence so acute you could hear a pin drop. Liam waiting for an answer, Chris looking at his feet and you looking visibly anxious. Chris had drank way too much and now he was about to let all of your secrets loose. This isn't the way you want Liam to find out, surely Chris wouldn't be so cruel.

"I suppose you're not gonna tell me who it is?" 

"Not just yet, see how we go." He looked at you, if he so much as even looked slightly smug you would have slapped him right across his face. Instead you could see the hurt in his eyes, tears welling in the corners. You're both faced with an impossible dilemma, Chris wants you all to himself but doesn't want to lose his brother in the process and you want it all over and done with but don't want to hurt Liam. The latter of both is inevitable but you would take all the blame just so Chris didn't have to lose his brother, given the choice you would lose them both just so that didn't happen.

"Well on that note, I need to go to bed. I've gotta be up early in the morning." You avoid Chris' gaze, you're angry with him but you don't want to cause him more pain. 

"Yeah me too. I better get going. Thank you for dinner Y/N, it was lovely."

You risk a short glance at him, you're eyes softening when they meet. The moment broken when Liam speaks, reminding you where you are and who you're with right at this moment in time.

"Are you for real? You're really going to drop a bombshell like that and then leave? Fuck man." Liam runs his hand through his hair, letting air out of his cheeks exasperatedly.

"Sorry bro, I'll save the excitement for another night. I've said too much already." Chris apologises with his eyes as he passes you, his hands twitching by his side's with the need to touch you.

                             ******************

The next morning when you wake, your heart sinks knowing all the turmoil you're going to have to go through just to make it to the hotel without being spotted. All the messing about and hiding you have to do, checking in under a false name at different times. Making sure nobody follows you to the hotel and especially no one follows Chris. Getting caught checking into the same hotel would be dreadful, it wouldn't take a genius for the press to put two and two together, they wouldn't even care if it was true or not as long as they sold copies.

"Right babe, I'm ready to go." You pull your suitcase towards the door, stopping to wrap your arms around Liam.

"Have a good time, I'll see you soon." Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting your feet from the ground in a squeezy hug. "I'll miss you." 

"I'll miss you too, bye babe." 

"Bye. Love you. Let me know when you get checked in." He kisses you goodbye before watching you leave.

"Will do, Love you." You say over your shoulder, climbing into your silver, Audi convertible.

This is the part you hate the most, the part that made you question whether it was all worth it. It was, of course or you wouldn't be doing it, you wouldn't put yourself through having to pretend to be somebody else and praying your not caught by anyone. It only takes one person to notice you and Chris in the same hotel and it's over. You imagine having an affair is hard work whatever your circumstances but when your boyfriend and your lover are as famous as they are it becomes impossible. It's terrifying. 

You spent the car journey constantly checking your mirrors and making sure you weren't being followed. A huge sunhat and even bigger sunglasses covering your face as your heart beated faster than you thought was possible. A couple of laps around the hotel, making doubly sure you weren't being followed before you finally pulled into the carpark.

You had to constantly think, you couldn't let your guard drop for even a moment and it was exhausting. You were ready for it to be over and done with now, this just isn't fun anymore. Maybe you could run away together and start a new life somewhere else. Which one would you pick though? Who are you ready to give up? Would there even be an option to choose? Would Liam even be willing to forgive you if he knew you were sleeping with his brother? In love with his brother.

Your heart beating out of your chest, your fight or flight well and truly kicking in now as you walk up to the front desk. If there's any recognition in the receptionists eyes you're ready to turn right around and leave. The girl behind the desk, with long blonde hair has her eyes on the computer In front of her, thankfully not paying you much attention as you stand and wait for her to finish.

"Hi I'd like to book a room for two nights please." You stutter nervously, subconsciously checking over your shoulder while you spoke.

"Of course, is it just for yourself?" 

"Yes please, I'm just here for a work conference. I'd like a double bed if possible though, I haven't been able to sleep in a single since I was young." You giggle nervously, embarrassed that you'd told her information she isn't even slightly interested in.

"No problem, I'll see what I have for you." Her eyes barely left her computer as she spoke, she definitely didn't recognise you. The tension in your muscles relaxed a little as your eyes scanned the lobby.

"What name is it please?" She asked, one of the moments you'd been dreading. You hate lying but luckily you'd already come up with the fake name you were using, one you'd already used many times before in the exact same situation. It never gets any easier.

"Jessica Crawley." The names tumbled from your lips, names that had absolutely no meaning to you. 

"Room 101, floor 5. Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"No thank you, that's great." The overwhelming feeling of relief at completing step one without any problems, rushes over you. Adrenaline spiking, making your legs feel like jelly.

"You're welcome, enjoy your stay. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions." The girl says, smiling sweetly at you before going back to her work.

The elevator seemed to take forever to make its way down to you, your feet shuffling as you watched the numbers above the door, counting down. The overwhelming need to get to privacy and away from the many prying eyes of the people in the lobby was severe. Most were business men and women, that were so consumed in themselves they weren't paying special attention to anyone around them. There were also young couples, making their way through the lobby, probably on their way for lunch but the people that worried you the most were the random loners sat in the armchairs scattered around the lobby. They'd chosen the perfect place to watch, some pretending to read newspapers while their eyes discreetly scanned over the top.

They were much more inquisitive, much like yourself they paid more attention to the people around them. People watchers you liked to call them, these are the sorts of people that make you nervous. They see everything, noticing any minor details, you'd spent a lifetime perfecting 'people watching' which is how you knew to be wary. You could pretty much judge a person's personality just by watching them for a couple of minutes. If anyone was to spot you it would be one of these people. You felt thankful you weren't Chris, there is absolutely no way he was going to make it to the elevator without being seen at least once.

                             *******************

Chris didn't feel quite as nervous as you, this was a every day occurance in his life, avoiding paparazzi was near impossible for him. As long as you weren't seen going in to the hotel then it wouldn't matter about him being seen. Still, he'd worn his baseball cap and sunglasses to at least try and hide his identity. He wasn't nervous about being seen but more about having to face you after his fuck up last night. Now that thought was way more intimidating to him.

Casually strolling into the hotel, he tried to ignore the whispers of the people around him. People questioning if it was really him, young girls barely out of high school giggling at the sight of him. Chris quietly prayed that he would make it up to the room without anyone asking for a photo, not that he usually minded but today all he wanted was to spend every possible minute with you as he could.

The receptionist tried to make a fuss when his identity was confirmed during check in. The pale skin of the same blonde girl who'd checked you in, had turned a rather bright shade of red when she heard Chris' sexy Australian accent. You wouldn't blame her, it still makes you swoon whenever you heard him speak.

"I'm fine honestly, I don't want any special treatment. Actually if I could get away with going completely unnoticed during my stay, I will speak to your boss myself and tell them how accomodating you'd been." 

"Oh wow, really? Thank you so much Mr Hemsworth. I will make sure nobody bothers you and if you need anything at all just give me a call, I'll make sure you won't have to leave your room for anything." Chris smiled, pretending not to notice how she seemed to be flirting with him, badly. Tossing her hair over shoulder as she insinuated not so subtly for him to let her know if he wanted any 'special' treatment. Again, you don't blame the girl, infact you would've commended her confidence.

She handed over the keys to the penthouse, watching bright eyed as he walked to the elevator, pulling out his phone as he stepped straight in. 

"Hi babe, I've booked the penthouse suite, meet me up there?" Smiling a tight lipped smile at the girl behind the desk, who was still watching him intently as the elevator doors closed.

"Ok, it isn't very inconspicuous staying in the penthouse is it?" You shouldn't be surprised, he does it everytime. You remember the first time you ever saw a penthouse and how amazed you were that it was actually bigger than your own home at the time. That was a memory you shared with Liam, all of your first times had been with Liam, the thought made your heart sink.

"I mean they knew who I was as soon as I walked in, I think it would look more suspicious if I didn't stay in a suite." Chris answered, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I suppose that's true, I'll be up soon." You could hear the sadness in your voice, something you had to snap out of before meeting Chris.

"Good because I can't wait to get my hands on you." 

Sinking back onto the spongey mattress of your bed, tiredness washing over you already. The mental exhaustion of constantly having to play games and be on your guard at all times, catching up to you as you're finally alone.

Maybe that's what you need afterall, a chance to be alone to gather your thoughts, to workout your own needs and wants without spreading your attention between the two brothers.

You make a mental list of the pros and cons of both of them knowing deep down if Liam were the one for you, you'd have never have looked twice at Chris. They were so similar in a lot of ways but completely different in others.

Liam was the sweetest man you knew, so gentle and caring, attentive to your every whim and being so young when you first got together he was everything you were looking for.

Now being a woman that has gone through so much trauma in her life that had tainted your soul, darkened it with a lust for more.

Then Chris came along, he was still sweet and caring but less attentive to your needs unless it was in the bedroom. He was cheeky and funny, drop dead gorgeous and oozing manliness effortlessly. He was fire and passion. He was more. 

If you let yourself admit it, you wanted excitement, which is how you ended up here in the first place. You didn't want perfect anymore, you wanted a man who could do wrong and then make up for it in the most fulfilling way he knew how. Just thinking about it made your pulse race, Chris had put you through hell last night and now it was time for payback. You imagined Chris only a couple of floors above you, worried about the way you were going to act when you saw him and lord knows how much you're going to make him sweat.                    

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter V

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut

A/N: ENJOOOOY!

You hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in almost two days. 

The moment you’d seen him with Violetta any illusion you had of possibly making your marriage work, had been shattered. 

Jungkook had tried to speak to you.  After he’d followed you back to your room he’d pleaded with you to open the door, to let him explain, but you just couldn’t do it.

Perhaps it was because you were so hurt.

Or perhaps it was because you didn’t want to hear it. 

Or perhaps it was because deep down inside, you’d always known this was bound to happen.

He had promised you a loveless marriage.  But he had also promised to stay faithful to you.

The image of them kissing was imprinted into your retina - it was all you could think about whenever there was a moment of peace. .

So what had you done?  You’d run away.  Snuck out in the middle of the night, whilst Jungkook slept in the guest room. 

You knew it made you a coward. 

But you couldn’t help it.  He’d hurt you.  You were broken.

You couldn’t handle the thought of facing him.  Not right now, anyway.

Nayeon had allowed you to move into hers temporarily - sick to death with worry when you showed up on her doorstep crying your eyes out.  You still hadn’t been able to explain what had happened, but you knew eventually, you would have to. 

You stared at the phone sat on the bedside table of the guest room Nayeon had put you in.  You’d texted Jungkook briefly the moment you arrived, to let him know where you were - but since then it had sat, switched off, staring at you.

Mocking you, almost.

In your heart of hearts you knew that perhaps  you were acting childishly. 

That you needed to face your husband head on - confront everything that had happened that day. 

But you couldn’t.  You were too afraid. 

You felt the tears jump to your throat again and you sighed shakily, fighting against them.

“Y/N?” The door to the bedroom creaked open and Nayeon was stood on the other side, holding a tray with what looked like tea and toast. 

“You’ve barely eaten,” She said, coming towards you carefully, “You need to eat something.  Please.”

You nodded, dazed, and let her set the tray down between your legs.  She sat on the edge of the bed, dark eyes roving your face.

After a long moment of silence, she sighed heavily.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

The words fell on you like concrete.  You felt tears burn your eyes again. 

“I don’t - I can’t…” 

Your heart was beating in your throat. 

“Eat, Y/N.”  She pushed the food towards you and ran a hand through her hair, “Jungkook’s been calling me like crazy since you arrived.  He hasn’t stormed in here because I told him it would just make things worse.”

The thought of your husband terrified you.  What were you going to do?  

How could you ever face him again?

Would you leave him?  Could you? 

The tears fell now, unbidden, and you bit into the dry toast.  You didn’t even bother pushing the tears away. 

“He sent… He sent Namjoon.”  Your best friend’s eyes were sympathetic, “I can kick him out, if you want.  But Jungkook thought maybe Namjoon could help.”

You looked beyond her and noticed, for the first time, a tall figure stood in the doorway.  It was Namjoon.

How long had he been stood there?

“I can go, if that’s what you want.”  He frowned gently, “But he’s desperate, Y/N.  He really wants to speak to you.”

You felt your chest clench.  You shouldn’t have cared what Jungkook was feeling.

He’d caused all of this in the first place.  But as always, your feelings for him took priority. 

You scoffed at yourself.  How pathetic.

Nayeon grabbed your hand and squeezed softly, forcing you to look at her.

“Y/N…. Please.”  She looked desperate, “Talk to me.” 

You took a long, deep breath, and tried to calm yourself.  She was right.  You had to talk to her.  This was getting you nowhere. 

You cleared your throat. 

“We - we … We slept together.”

Naeyon’s eyes widened, “What?” 

“A few days ago.  I …. I don’t know.  The last few weeks things changed between us.  I thought - I thought maybe Jungkook had feelings for me,” The thought tore your heart open all over again, “But… The morning after.  The morning after we slept together - I found him in his study with another woman.  She kissed him.” Nayeon’s eyes darkened.

“What?” She seethed, “Who?” You felt your throat go dry.  Your mind hadn’t stopped replaying what you’d seen in Jungkook’s study.

Again and again and again. 

It was all you could think about. 

“Violetta,” You whispered, tears falling again, “Her name is Violetta.  But I’ve never seen her before.” 

Namjoon cleared his throat.  You looked at him and watched as he shuffled towards you, dark brows pulled into a low frown. 

“Did you say Violetta?” You nodded gently, swiping at the tears that had escaped.  He shook his head. 

“Y/N….” 

You waited for it.

For Namjoon to tell you that Violetta was the love of Jungkook’s life.  That you would never even hold a candle to what your husband felt for her. 

Don’t you love me? She’d asked him. 

Your stomach twisted again and you felt sick.  

“Violetta is the daughter of a very important politician,” Namjoon seemed to be choosing his words carefully.  He came to sit on the edge of the bed, “A few years ago… Jungkook was messing around with her, to try and obtain information.” 

You felt your heart thundering against your ribcage. 

“It was a shitty move, probably, but he only did it to try and move things around in our favour.”  He clicked his tongue and ran a hand across his brow, “When her father found out, he sent her away to America.  We haven’t seen her in almost four years.” 

You froze.  What did all of this mean? 

“I know Jungkook hasn’t been the best husband,” Namjoon continued, eyes searching your own carefully, “But he cares about you, alot.  He loves you.” 

The words felt like they were tearing you apart and putting you back together again, all at the same time. 

“He kissed her.”

But the words held no venom.  The truth was… She had kissed him.  And he’d pulled away so quickly. 

In your mind, it was the only thing you saw again and again and again… 

You knew.  You knew she’d been the one to make the first move. 

“He made a mistake,” Namjoon seemed to be approaching the situation like you were a caged animal - like he wasn’t sure what your reaction would be, “He made a mistake by letting her inside your house.  But I know Jungkook.  And I know how he feels about you, Y/N.  Even if he doesn’t quite know it himself yet.  Violetta is a dangerous girl.  He needs to be careful.” 

Nayeon cleared her throat, seeming to mull over the situation herself. 

“Why wouldn’t he tell you about it?” She asked, voice careful, “If Violetta is so dangerous - why wouldn’t he tell you about it?” She was directing her question at Namjoon, who swiped his tongue across his bottom lip slowly and sighed.

“Jungkook likes to deal with things like this on his own.”  He grunted, “Doesn’t like bringing the rest of us into it.  And knowing Violetta - she probably came back without a warning.” 

Everything was too much.

Too much and too little. 

You’d known about Jungkook’s past before you married him - had known how many women he’d slept with even as you fell deeper in love with him.

And yet, something like this scared you. 

How many disgruntled former lovers had your husband left behind? 

Still.  Your heart had somehow sped up at Namjoon’s explanation - at the revelation that maybe your husband hadn’t betrayed you. 

You cleared your throat after a moment of silence.  Nayeon and Namjoon were observing you with gentle eyes - probably afraid of what theatrics you might pull next. 

You took a moment to collect yourself.

“He should have told me about her.”  You decided, “He should have told me if she was a threat.” 

Namjoon’s eyes were kind, “He’s still a dickhead, Y/N.”  His smile was almost painful, “He’s just a dickhead who loves you.”

The words lit up your chest. 

“I don’t - I’m not.  I don’t know if that’s true.”  You wanted to believe Namjoon.  More than anything.

But you couldn’t allow yourself that vulnerability.

Not  yet. 

Not after how completely the thought of him with someone else had broken you. 

“You should speak to him,” Nayeon said decidedly, squeezing your hand again, “Make him explain himself, for once.”

The thought scared you, but you knew she was right. 

Part of you was terrified he would actually rebuke everything Namjoon had told you.  That he would say he really was in love with Violetta - and planning to run away with her.  Or take her as a mistress. 

Those thoughts clenched your chest. 

And part of you hoped - maybe foolishly - that your husband would quell your fears.  That he would tell you, just as Namjoon had, that he loved you.  That he wanted to be with you now - for real, not for duty or anything like that - but because he cared for you.

“You’re right,” You nodded, reaching for your phone, “I’m going to call him.”

Nayeon stood at the same time as Namjoon.

“We’ll both be just outside, okay?  If you need us.”  Your best friend’s smile was gentle, but warm, “I know you can do this, Y/N.” 

She pressed a kiss to your temple, and then led the way outside, Namjoon trailing after her quietly.  He turned back just before shutting the door, and smiled at you too.

“You’ve got this, kid.” 

You smiled back, shakily, “Thanks, Joon.”

The door clicked shut and you were alone with your thoughts once again.

The image of Violetta and Jungkook had blurred now - maybe from Namjoon’s words - and it didn’t burn so brightly. 

You felt like you could breathe, like the idea of talking to your husband didn’t frighten the shit out of you. 

You could do this.

With shaking fingers you switched your phone off and watched as notification after notification lit up your screen.

They were all from Jungkook.

Thirteen missed calls.

Twenty seven texts. 

You opened the texts. 

I need to talk to you, Y/N.

Please.  Pick up the phone.  I know you’re mad, but we need to talk.

Where are you?  Why did you leave like that? 

Y/N please.  I’m worried about you.

They went on like that for the next twenty or so, until eventually you landed on the last one.  The one that made your heart skip.

I fucked up, okay?  I fucked up and I need to make this right.  You mean so much to me.

Your heart felt like it was beating out of your mouth.  You mean so much to me. 

Your fingers hovered over the call button and for a moment it felt like all the air had left the room. 

This was what you had always wanted. 

Jeon Jungkook for your own.

You considered how you’d felt about him before your marriage.  You couldn’t deny you’d loved him but now… Now there was something deeper, wasn’t there?

He’d marked you.

Not just your skin but your heart - your soul.

You took a deep breath and made the call, bringing the phone up to your ear. 

It rang once, twice. 

And then Jungkook was there. 

“Y/N?  Is that you?” 

You felt your chest tighten at the relief in his voice. 

“Yes.”  Your own voice was small, in comparison. 

“Are you okay?” He sounded desperate, “God.  Nayeon said you were okay but I didn’t - shit.  I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

You cleared your throat, tears rushing to your eyes again. 

“I spoke to Namjoon.” 

There was a long pause.  Your husband waited, and you thanked him for not interrupting.  You pushed past the tears. 

“He told me the truth about…” Your voice trailed off, but you forced yourself to finish, “Violetta.” 

“She doesn’t mean anything to me, Y/N.  I don’t - I don’t love her.  I never did.”  

You took another deep breath in.  

“Are you sure?” 

The question was the last show of vulnerability you were willing to freely give.  If Jungkook changed his mind - if he hurt you, after this - that would be it.

You couldn’t forgive him. 

“One thousand percent,” He was firm, “She’s just a spoilt princess who always gets what she wants.  I don’t - I’ve never felt for her what she claims to feel for me.” 

You wanted him to finish that sentence with - what I feel for you.  You were dying for it. 

You deserved that much, at least, didn’t you?

You sighed heavily - like the weight of the world was on your shoulders.  And maybe it really was. 

“What about me?”  The question was quiet, unassuming. 

Your husband made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh.  

“God Y/N.”  He answered, his voice raw, “I don’t want to lose you.  Not ever.  I - God - I don’t deserve you.  I’ve been an asshole.  Shit.  This isn’t how it was meant to go.” 

The words caused a small laugh to bubble out of you.

Your husband - your Jungkook - usually so confident and self-assured seemed… Unsure.  

It was enough to send your head spinning. 

“I haven’t treated you like I should,” He sounded almost like he was in pain, “I should have never promised you a loveless marriage.  But I - I suppose I was trying to keep us both safe.  You’ve always… You’ve always looked at me with stars in your eyes.  And I hated that… I hated that I liked it.  I hated that… I liked you.”

The words encompassed you - like cotton wool.  You blinked.

“What?”

He sighed gently, “I was never sure of my feelings for you, Y/N.  I wanted to protect you - and keep you safe.  And now… Now it’s something else, isn’t it?  I just.  Don’t totally understand it.  It scared me.  So I pushed you away.”

You felt tears crawl up your throat, “Jungkook…”

“I’m sorry for that.”  He sounded close to tears himself, “You’ve always - you’ve always treated me so well, Y/N.  So well.  I didn’t deserve it - I still don’t.”

His words patched up all the ugly, sharp tears in your heart.  It was like he was soothing them, healing them - and you felt yourself unravelling.

You made your decision.

It was simple.  Barely needed to think about it twice.

“I’ll come home.” You said softly, “Tonight.  Okay?” 

He exhaled something long and hard - like he’d been holding the breath in for ages, “Thank God.  Okay Angel.  I’ll tell Namjoon to take you home, okay?  I hated that you were alone.  God.  Felt so useless.” 

His words sent a fire bubbling in your veins.

He cared so much - seemed so desperate for you to be safe.  It was scary and new, but you welcome it with open arms. 

This was what you’d always wanted. 

“Alright.”  There was another beat of silence and then, “I love you, Jungkook.” 

The word fell between the two of you - heavy and weighted. 

He breathed in sharply. 

Then, “Hurry home Angel.”

You smiled to yourself.

“I will.”

//

The ride back home was silent, save for the murmuring of the radio.  Namjoon didn’t say much after you’d asked him to take you back, and Nayeon had all but cried when you explained that things seemed to have worked themselves out. 

You stared out of the car window, eyes following the skyline outside. 

Seoul could be so beautiful in the Spring. 

The trees turned from bare and snow-laden to full of lush, green life.  The dark blue sky glittering with tiny little stars - all of them blinking at you, like they were waving.

It filled your heart with something warm and happy - and despite the pain you’d endured recently - you found yourself content, finally.

You knew it had to do with Jungkook - didn’t everything? - but you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much.

Wasn’t it only natural that you wanted him to love you back?

After so many years of unreciprocated feelings… It only made sense. 

Namjoon made a self-satisfied sound and you turned to look at him, brow raised. 

“Did you have something to say?” You asked, half jokingly. 

He spared you a look.

“You two are going to drive me to an early grave I swear.”  

You laughed at that, and though he rolled his eyes, Namjoon smiled. 

“What are you talking about?” You giggled at the look on his face. 

He opened his mouth to answer you - just as something loud and angry and abrasive cracked across the air.  Before you could even blink, the car screeched to an angry stop, and your head whacked back against the seat, blood suddenly gushing from your nose. 

When had you hit your nose? 

The airbags had diffused and you felt stifled - like you couldn’t breath. 

“Namjoon.”  You croaked, turning your head to the side to find your friend’s eyes closed, “Oh shit.  Namjoon.”

He was breathing - you could tell - but he had a nasty gash across his forehead, and his cheek was pressed up against the surface of the airbag. 

Your body ached as you tried to shift - tried to help Namjoon out of his current position.

What had happened? 

Had a tyre blown?  Surely something like that couldn’t cause all this…. 

And then, suddenly, your car door was wrenched open. 

You felt yourself being pulled out painfully - almost brutally - and when your eyes blinked sluggishly up at who was holding you, you didn’t recognise the dark blue eyes staring back at you. 

“Who is this?” The voice was gruff, angry. 

He was talking to someone on the other side of the car - someone holding Namjoon. 

Oh god.  What was happening? Your chest clenched - fear turning your blood to ice. 

“That’s Jungkook’s wife,” The man holding Namjoon answered, “Shit.  C’mon.  Let’s go before someone sees us.” 

The man holding onto you was squeezing your forearm tightly, and you felt like the world was spinning off its axis. 

“Should we take her too?” He asked, pulling you to your feet when your legs started to wobble.

You kept opening your mouth - trying to ask him who he was, what they wanted - but nothing came out.  Instead all you could do was groan.

“Yeah.  Come on.  Let’s go.”

Take you where?  Your heart was racing as you were dragged to a dark, black van.  Namjoon was still unconscious, his body sweeping across the floor as the second assailant moved him to the van, as well.

Your eyes blinked, and you felt like your mouth was full of cotton - did you have a concussion?  Were you going to die? Why was everything suddenly moving in slow motion?

You looked down at the pinch in your arm, and realised you’d been drugged. 

The man holding you sneered, his eyes dark and cold and cruel.

“Sweet dreams princess.”  He growled, and you tried to claw at his chest, to no avail.

And then, it all went black.

//