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scarlettriot · 3 years

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Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

#mha #bnha #mha smut #denki kaminari #kaminari #kaminari smut #denki kaminari smut #mha fluff #denki fluff #denki smut #denki x you #mha x reader #kaminari x reader #denki x reader

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writertitan · 3 years

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Grandfather Clock (III)

pairing: levi x f!reader

word count: 7068 (oops)

themes: adult f!reader, arranged marriage, multi-part fic, levi is a stubborn asshole at first, no love at first sight here folks

a/n: the final part!! enjoy!!!

Read Part 1 Here

Read Part 2 Here

On the 20th day of Levi’s engagement to you, he found himself tense, frowning, and sitting across a less than pleased Erwin, right in the commander’s office.

Erwin sat at his desk, deep discontent written all over his face, with his arms folded tightly across his broad chest.

Levi knew the scolding was coming and cursed himself in his head for being so careless. He hadn’t really meant too much by it. Mike had just been asking him how things were going as they walked down the hall together and the words had just tumbled out. Levi didn’t like talking about his personal life in general, mostly because he had hardly had one prior to getting engaged, but now he was extra wary.

“Not much to tell. Just thankful she agreed not to have an actual wedding and to prolong it as long as possible.”

That was all he’d said and he’d said it with a tone of finality that Mike understood well. It was the tone that warned not to push it any farther.

It was just Levi’s luck that Erwin had rounded the corner as the words left him. The commander had bristled as he processed what Levi had said and then blurted out that he needed to see the shorter man immediately, in his office.

Levi had never seen Mike hurry off so quickly before.

And now here he was, tense and waiting for Erwin to lash out at him.

The words came moments later, but Levi didn’t get yelled at, which made him feel worse. Erwin was quiet, stern, and very open with his disappointment.

“Is it true? You really asked that of her?”

“Yes,” Levi sighed, running a hand over his tired face. “I did.”

“You didn’t even consult me about it. Levi, I hope you know I’m trying to grant you as much freedom as I can in this situation, but this was out of line. I’m sorry, but you don’t have that kind of say.”

Erwin’s words made Levi wince a little, but he tried to keep a stoic face. He could see that the commander was waiting for him to say something, but Levi didn’t quite know what to say.

He thought of you for a moment, and thought about how confused he’d been lately, and then looked at Erwin with a hint of a frown.

“You’ve hardly given us any freedom,” he blurted out, and then cursed himself yet again. He’d used the word “us” instead of “me” and he knew that Erwin would catch wind of that.

He did, and he even seemed to soften up a bit, raising a brow curiously.

And then Erwin used you as ammunition.

“You’ve stripped away any semblance of choice left for her by making her agree to your terms. She has even less freedom than you. Is that what you wanted?” Erwin asked, but the question was more rhetorical than anything.

Levi’s frown grew deeper. His mind went back to you, how broken you’d looked when he’d said he didn’t want a wedding day, and how he wanted to wait as long as possible to actually be married. And then his mind took him to that day you were feeling unwell, and how that same broken expression appeared when he’d gotten upset with you.

His chest grew heavy when he realized he had helped in breaking you.

And even worse, he hadn’t gone back to visit you after that day, when you had fainted. It had spurred too many mixed emotions in him and he had wanted the space to clear his head. And you had confirmed you were still unwell in your most recent letter to him from yesterday.

But maybe you were lying. Maybe Levi had broken you so much that you wanted to start keeping your distance from him.

That’s what he wanted, right?

Is that what you wanted?

Erwin’s unanswered question echoed in his mind.

If that was what he’d wanted, why did he feel this way, so horrible, after being called out by Erwin?

“I just don’t know what to do,” Levi finally said, unable to meet Erwin’s gaze.

Erwin hummed and sat back in his chair, arms now unfolded as he looked at Levi. The conversation had gone way beyond Levi’s little mistake. As much as he wanted to help his friend, there was a reason Erwin had been wandering the halls. He had, in fact, been searching for Levi. And he had, in fact, been wanting to discuss the topic of you. It had been mere coincidence that Erwin had caught Levi’s confession.

“Talk to her,” Erwin said, eyes on Levi, who was still looking anywhere but at him. “And I’d suggest going today. There was a reason I’ve been looking for you.”

At that, Levi flickered his eyes to Erwin, a hint of curiosity in them. And, dare Erwin say, even a little bit of worry hid behind the silver.

“Well, spit it out,” Levi said, already making to stand up. “What happened? Is something wrong?”

Erwin also stood up, slowly and deliberately, and didn’t know how to answer that.

“There’s been some...civil unrest recently. Some of the working class citizens have been getting riled up because of some recent unfortunate events with the upper class,” Erwin explained, watching carefully for Levi’s reaction. “Some of my intel has told me there’s talk of a few riots being planned.”

“What kind of ‘unfortunate events’ are you talking about?” Levi pressed, arms at his side with hands clenched into fists. This didn’t sound good.

“Seems like your fiancee’s father has been in some bad business deals that affected a lot of his workforce. And he’s got quite the workforce, if you remember,” Erwin murmured, looking a little thoughtful as he tried to gage Levi’s reaction. “I was looking for you to tell you that I’d like for you to go and check on things. I’m not sure how extreme the situation is.”

Levi was already halfway out of the office and didn’t bother to answer. He was, without a doubt, upset.

Upset that Erwin didn’t let him know about this immediately.

Upset that it would take a while to get to you.

And, curiously, he was upset that he was upset. What the hell was going on with him?

In your parlor room, you were curled up on the sofa and reading your favorite book. It took all your willpower to try not to think about how, just a few days ago, Levi had touched those very same pages.

He’d kept his distance since then, though you had certainly had some part in that by sending him a note to say you were still sick. It wasn’t true at all and you’d felt almost back to normal the next day, but you couldn’t really face Levi yet. Despite forgiving him and allowing yourself to have a little bit of hope that things would turn out okay for the two of you, it was obvious that Levi was still on the fence with you, and had a very specific opinion about who you were despite not getting to know you.

You were using this time away from him to think of ways to show him that you weren’t that way at all, and that his impression of you was, truthfully, completely off the mark.

As the grandfather clock sounded off at noon, it brought you back to reality. You set your book down, not that you’d actually been reading much of it, and sighed when your stomach grumbled. Definitely lunchtime.

You stood up and stretched, about to walk to the kitchen and bother Chef Erlo when you realized something seemed...off.

The clock struck noon for a final time and you realized that that was the only sound you could really hear from all over the house. Silence engulfed you when the grandfather clock stopped, and you peered out into the hallway, baffled when you saw absolutely nobody in sight.

Feeling like you couldn’t break the silence, you stayed quiet as a mouse as you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to hear the usual bustle of noise there for lunch. Maybe that’s where everyone was. It was lunchtime, after all. Had you forgotten it was somebody’s birthday? Sometimes you’d sneak the staff into the servant’s quarters for a bit of a break and have a little birthday celebration during lunch, but you were sure nobody’s big day was today.

But you didn’t make it to the kitchen. As you got closer to the foyer, you could hear the commotion outside, interrupting the eerie silence in your home. Instead of going to check on things, curiosity got the best of you and you ended up peering out the window to see what was going on. A little gasp left your lips when you saw what was outside.

Hoards of people were at the gates of your home, screaming and shouting profanities as they tried to make their way inside. Your heart sped up at the sight, absolutely terrified at the pure hatred they all wore on their faces. You couldn’t really make out what they were all saying, but you heard the profanities, and you heard your father’s name enough times to know that this was personal.

The guards situated outside at the gate were pushing back as much as they could, and you even see that some of the Garrison soldiers had come to help out, but the crowd seemed to be growing bigger and bigger by the second. At any moment, it would bubble over and spill past the gates of your home.

Right to you.

Once again, after a lifetime of avoiding your father and his business to try and escape it, you were being dragged right into the middle of it instead.

You had to run. The anger outside was something that was almost tangible; you could feel it weighing heavily in the air even from where you stood inside your home. No doubt that someone would try to hurt you just in the belief that it would hurt your father to know they’d gotten to you.

For a brief moment, Levi flashed through your mind, and you sincerely regretted lying to him about still feeling unwell when his face popped to the front of your head. Maybe he would have helped you. Maybe not. The anger you could feel from the crowd outside was unfortunately similar to the anger Levi had bestowed upon you just a few days ago.

As you backed away from the window, you thought of all the different places you could go to hide. So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t register the footsteps sneaking up behind you and gasped when a hand clamped against your mouth to keep you quiet.

Before you could try and scream, a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Shh, it’s only me. Let’s go.”

You whirled around, tears of relief springing to your eyes as you hugged Greta tightly.

“Greta,” you breathed out shakily, pulling away to look at her with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s not talk here, come on,” she whispered, tugging you towards the servant’s quarters, where you knew the wine cellar was situated. As soon as the door was closed and locked behind the two of you, Greta practically dragged you down the stairs. It was cooler down there and you shivered involuntarily.

There was dim candlelight at the end of the steps that lit up a narrow hallway, one that led towards a heavy wooden door. Chef Erlo was there holding a candelabra with one hand, a silver key in the other.

Your tears of relief spilled over at the sight of him.

“Erlo,” you whimpered, moving to hug him as well. He was just as quick about it as Greta was, gently stepping away from you with a small and sympathetic smile.

“We’ll get you out of here safely, miss,” he promised you.

A pang of fear hit you and you looked between Erlo and Greta, hand at your chest as you thought of the worst.

“And everyone else? Is everyone okay?” you asked them.

From above, you heard glass shattering and heavy thumps. Your heart pounded so hard against your chest that you worried your ribs would crack from the force. The fear you felt in that moment was unparalleled, unmatched by any other situation in your life. You’d never been this scared in your entire life.

“Everyone is safe. Except for you,” Greta said, and she nodded for Erlo to open the door. He unlocked it and hurried you both inside, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw Erlo wasn’t following.

“I’m going to lock the door behind me and slip the key under the crack. That should buy you some time,” he said to Greta, avoiding your gaze.

“What are you talking about? You’re coming with us, it’s not safe here! Something’s happening outside, people are angry and I don’t know why,” you rambled, tearing up again. Greta reached over to squeeze your hand, but everything about it was rushed, too hurried to really be a comfort to you.

Erlo flashed you another small smile, and then gave you a wink, his crow’s feet prominent as he finally flashed his goofy smile.

“I’ll be fine, miss. Don’t worry about me. It’s not me they’re after,” he assured you, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

Chef Erlo was like the father you’d never had. It was impossible to allow him to do this, but Greta held you back as he shut the door and locked it once again, with the key slipping underneath moments later.

Greta let go of you to swipe it off the ground, and then began to push you forward, nearly in the dark save for cracks of light at the door opposite the room.

The faint smell of wine permeated the air and you found yourself wishing for a glass to calm your nerves. Greta led you to the door in just a few moments flat, using the same key to unlock it and hurry through with you in tow.

It was the bulkhead entrance to the wine cellar, where the merchants would come deliver or take some wine. Part of your father’s business. It was where a lot of things were delivered. On the few steps there beneath the wooden doors, there was a maid’s dress and some worn shoes. One look at Greta told you that the new outfit was for you, so you wasted no time in nearly tearing off your dress and kicking off your shoes to put on the much simpler garments and better blend in outside without striking too much attention to yourself. Your current outfit would have been a dead giveaway to your status.

Greta lifted one of the doors up just enough to peer out cautiously as you changed, making sure it was safe to leave. Once she was sure it was, she nodded to you and lifted the door up quietly, keeping it lifted for you to hop up the short steps and out into the spring afternoon.

It was cloudy outside, threatening to rain. As if on cue, a crack of thunder sounded and you felt it was remarkably similar to a cliche in your favorite novel; it always rained whenever your favorite character was feeling upset.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Greta gripped you by the elbow and tugged you away from the house in a pace that was rushed but not too much that it looked suspicious. Now that you were wearing new clothes, you looked like everyone else outside. There was no real need to rush and risk getting caught.

Nobody paid the two of you any mind. The real focus was on your house that was currently getting ransacked.

The sight made your heart sink to your stomach, but your tears had already dried.

It was true that these people were destroying the only home you’d ever known. It was true that in that moment, you were sure you’d never go back to it. But you just couldn’t find it in you to cry about this. Your tears were reserved for your staff and worrying about their wellbeing.

Whatever your father had done, it probably deserved this level of outrage.

Although you were filled to the brim with fear and adrenaline, above all, you felt a peculiar sense of freedom as more and more people pushed their way past the gates of your home to run inside.

Greta gave you a moment to watch the scene before steering you away with promises to explain everything as soon as she got you to safety.

The only time tears actually did threaten your eyes again was when Captain Levi’s face pushed its way into your mind once more.

Maybe you would never see him again. And maybe he’d like that.

Levi was all too familiar with feeling dread settle in his stomach and harden like a rock. He’d experienced it all his life, countless times as he watched comrades die, often such a big part of his nightmares and the reason for his insomnia.

He didn’t expect to feel that rock in his stomach as he approached your home. Rather, what was left of it.

But he felt it settle in his stomach, a dread so heavy that he almost had to hunch over, and he looked on in horror as people continued to run in and out of your home. Many people were running out with valuables in their arms. Others were running inside just to destroy everything in sight.

He was far too late, by the look of things.

His eyes darted around, a futile attempt to locate you, but of course he didn’t see you anywhere.

Soldiers and guards were doing what they could, and Levi could see reinforcements marching in, but it was too late.

It was too late.

Levi hopped off his horse and pushed past people and soldiers alike as he ran into your home, taking in the sight of broken glass and ruined furniture and banged up walls.

It was disgusting.

He went to your room first and only found it ravaged and empty with no signs of life.

Levi knew he was being crazy. Of course he wasn’t going to just find you there. In fact, the thought of seeing you in the middle of all this would have actually been worse. But not knowing where you were had his stomach in knots.

As a last resort, he checked the parlor room, where you’d shared an afternoon that had left Levi questioning himself and questioning you. Mostly himself.

He got there as the grandfather clock chimed at the top of the hour. It was just as ravaged as your room, but curiously enough, he noticed your favorite novel on the ground by where the side table used to be.

He picked it up and clutched it tightly, and then made a promise.

He would find you and he would get your book back to you. It was the only possession you had left in the world, he realized, looking around.

He’d find you.

He wouldn’t rest until he’d found you.

A cup of tea warmed your hands as silence filled the room of Greta’s mother’s kitchen.

The two women stared at you with so much sympathy, and so much worry, that it made you feel loved and yet also a little small at the same time.

Greta had just finished explaining everything to you.

Your father had been atrocious, and had taken advantage of his employees. He was in protective custody because he’d anticipated this riot to happen. Nobody knew where your mother was. It was a miracle that Greta and Erlo had managed to help you and everyone else out before you’d gotten hurt. Or killed.

And now you didn’t know what would happen next.

Your spirits, already low, dimmed even more at the thought of Chef Erlo. You desperately hoped he was okay, and hopefully he was. After all, he’d been correct: nobody was trying to hurt him. Only you and your family.

“Are you sure everybody made it out safely?” you whispered to Greta, who immediately nodded.

“Everyone’s been aware of some of the...tensions around town,” she explained. “We all had an exit plan in the works, just didn’t realize we’d have to implement it so soon.”

You flashed a brief and sad smile, nodding once as you took a sip of your tea.

“Thank you for getting everyone out safely first. It means the world to me.”

In your mind, you were just as responsible for your father’s sins as he was. To think you didn’t even have a clue of what was going on. It was embarrassing.

As if reading your mind, Greta’s mother, May, reached forward to squeeze your arm reassuringly.

“It’s not your fault, darling,” she murmured. “It wasn’t your place to know.”

You sighed softly and kept your eyes on your tea, frowning to yourself. It was true that you had basically been forced to be cooped up in the house, and now you were thinking there was a clear reason behind it now. You hardly had much say in your day to day schedule, especially after getting engaged to Captain Levi. Still, it didn’t feel good to be so in the dark.

And the thought of Captain Levi sent your heart aflutter. Did he know? Had he been aware of this the whole time? Was this part of the reason for your arrangement?

Slowly, you picked up your gaze from your tea to settle on Greta, biting the inside of your cheek before asking the question you were dreading to ask.

“What happens now?”

She didn’t look too sure either as she pondered your question, finally settling for shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know, miss,” she answered honestly. “I hate to say it, but it depends on your father. He and your mother will start looking for you once they realize you’re missing.”

The thought made you nauseous. Despite such a horrible outcome of your day, that peculiar feeling of freedom had been what kept you going. There was some sort of thrill attached to it.

You realized it was achingly similar to the hope you felt for your arrangement for Levi. The chance of things looking up, turning around.

All this hope and nothing to show for it.

Now you were hopeless.

News had gotten to Erwin quickly. Levi saw the commander ride in with other squad leaders as he helped beat down and arrest some of the rowdier citizens at your home. He hated to be there and wanted to go off and find you more than anything, but someone there had to have seen you, or seen what happened to you.

So far, nobody seemed to remember seeing you. In fact, some people had sworn to him that the house had been empty of people the entire time. Not a soul in the home at all.

When Erwin stepped past the gates, Levi had never wanted to pummel him so badly. Instead, he shoved a badly beaten merchant towards his commander with a growl, eyes nearly feral as he found the calm blue ones that he hated more than anything at the moment.

“You said there was civil unrest. You didn’t say there was an entire fucking mob,” he snapped.

Erwin remained calm, casually stepping over the merchant to get closer to Levi.

“Seems I was deceived,” he admitted, looking around. “Her father kept me in the dark. I had no idea about any of this. But I suppose you’ll be pleased to hear that I’m calling off the deal. We can’t tarnish the Scouts’ reputation even more by doing business with this family.”

Levi’s body went cold at the news.

Just a couple of weeks ago, he would have felt nothing but pure relief. Now, he felt nothing but pure dread.

“What about…?”

Levi couldn’t even say your name. It caught at the back of his throat and he struggled to breathe. He tried his best to remain as stoic as always, but Erwin knew him so well, and could see the concern at the edges of Levi’s gaze.

“There’s not much protection we can offer her, being her father’s daughter. She’s under his control,” Erwin reminded him. “Do you know where she is? I heard she’s declared missing.”

Levi nodded once to confirm, his worry amplifying at Erwin’s words.

He couldn’t protect you. Not while you were still affiliated with your father.

“People are saying that nobody was in the house,” Levi said, giving the commander a rundown of events. “I did a quick search, didn’t find any of the staff. No one was around.”

Erwin hummed a little, hands behind his back as he took in the sight of the damaged house in front of him.

“No surprise there. Our man of the hour is already in protective custody, having predicted this well before anyone else, and his wife was visiting with a friend, and now they’re all in protective custody as well. It’s just your ex-fiancee that we’re having trouble locating. Perhaps she’s with her staff.”

How stupid of him. Levi hadn’t really thought of that possibility yet. He’d been so focused on finding you, assuming the worst, that he hadn't taken the time to really think it through enough to realize that you were missing along with the staff.

Erwin was already five steps ahead of them.

“Some of the scouts are off to find the staff members that don’t live here in-house. One of them is bound to know where she is.”

Levi couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that left him, but he still felt useless if he wasn’t doing more to help. Without another word to Erwin, he marched off to do another quick search around the entire perimeter.

Some medics had come onto the scene as well and he was surprised to see a couple of them towards the back of the house, dragging someone out of the cellar. Levi had admittedly not really looked down there, knowing all there was, was food storage and wine cellar that someone had told him was all cleared out by now.

A familiar old man was getting dragged out and treated. He was badly beaten, bruised from head to toe, and his breathing was raspy and uneven.

Levi knew him to be a staff member and his heart skipped a beat.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was kneeling beside the old man, shaking him to get his attention despite the angry protests of a medic.

The old man opened his eyes and grimaced, but his face grew soft at the sight of Levi.

“Captain Levi,” he greeted him in a hoarse voice. “You’re a little late, don’t you think?”

“Where is she?” Levi asked, voice soft. “Do you know?”

“I know,” the man confirmed, nodding slowly as his eyes closed. “Greta...Greta took her. She’s...with Greta’s mother. But don’t know where...she lives.”

Greta. Levi knew that name. It was the name of one of the maids. You looked to be friends with her.

“Thank you,” he said, very sincere, before standing back up. More determined than ever, he made a beeline for his horse, a plan of action already formulating in his mind. He could make do with the information given to him. It was all he needed.

He was going to find you.

The sun hung low in the sky as May and Greta made up Greta’s old bed for you.

You had insisted on sleeping anywhere else, even the floor, but Greta had already set her mind on sharing a bed with her mother.

“I shared a bed with one of the other maids all the time, whenever we felt like it,” she told you. “I actually like it. It’s nice having another person there with you.”

You still felt a little guilty but stayed silent, and opted instead to watch the sun lower through the window of Greta’s childhood bedroom after being shooed off.

Greta and her mother chattered amongst themselves and you didn’t have the heart to join in just yet. You felt so drained after the day’s events that you couldn’t muster up the energy they had.

What kept you so anxious was also the thought of having to stay under your father’s thumb.

It was maddening to know that after everything, he still had your life in his hands. To be a highborn lady was to be in shackles.

A plan was starting to formulate in your mind, one where you could fake your death and run away and find work as a maid or maybe even a governess. Greta could help and confirm that you’d been taken, never to be seen again. You could grab your clothes that you’d discarded, if they were still around, and maybe douse them in animal blood or something, to really sell it.

But your plan was cut short with a pounding at the front door downstairs. The knocking was so intense that all three of you froze and looked between each other, fear prickling your spines.

When the door clearly sounded like it was trying to be opened, May sprang into action and ran downstairs, which kickstarted your adrenaline. You ran after her, afraid for her possibly getting hurt, reaching out for her to try and stop her from going any farther.

“May, no!” you hissed, eyes on the front door that was now in view. Someone was slamming into it, the lock jiggling unsteadily, until it finally gave in.

You were paralyzed in fear as the door flew open, but fear gave way to shock at the sight of Captain Levi at the entrance, looking frazzled. You would have never predicted you’d ever see him as anything other than composed or angry.

As soon as your eyes locked, you ran to him.

“Captain Levi!”

He stopped you before you could throw your arms around him and, at first, you felt embarrassed by it, taking it as a rejection.

It wasn’t until he started examining you, hands lifting and twisting your arms and turning your face this way and that, that you felt your heart warm up.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. He was cupping your face, holding your jaw familiar as his eyes scanned your face for any signs of injury, and that frazzled look he held only softened when his eyes finally met yours.

You shook your head slowly, keeping his gaze, hands shyly reaching up to cover his over your jaw.

“I’m not hurt,” you whispered. “Just scared.”

Levi frowned and reluctantly let go of your face, but his hands didn’t travel far. He rested them on your shoulders while your hands gently gripped his forearms, the two of you in your own little bubble.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he promised you, sounding so earnest. “Nobody can hurt you while I’m here.”

Your bottom lip quivered, emotional at the thought of him willingly protecting you, but also emotional at the more sinister situation at hand.

“My father can,” you told him, squeezing his forearms as the words left your mouth. “Greta says he’ll be looking for me soon. I can’t escape him.”

Levi’s eyes hardened at that, grip also tightening on your shoulders, before he groaned and stepped away from you to run a hand over his face.

“Erwin said the same thing to me,” he admitted, pacing back and forth. He briefly looked towards Greta and her mother, then to the now broken front door, and blankly stared at them before muttering, “I’ll fix that.”

He turned back to you, arms crossed, as he took on a look of deep concentration. It was only there for a few moments before he snapped out of it, holding your gaze as he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“You can’t be under your father’s control once you’re married,” he pointed out.

At first, you didn’t understand. You raised a brow, a little peeved he was bringing it up, and nodded once.

“I suppose so…,” you agreed, a hint of a frown on your face. “But I’m assuming we won’t be getting married after this, so I’m kind of shit out of luck.” It was the first time you’d really sworn like that in front of Levi. In front of anyone. It was nice.

Levi tensed up a little and broke his eye contact with you to look away, and you could have sworn he looked a little flustered. There was a hint of pink at the tips of his ears, which shocked you.

“What?” you pressed, also feeling a bit of heat creep into your face.

This wasn’t happening. No way this was happening.

Levi hadn’t wanted to marry you even when it was basically required of him.

Your hopeless romantic little heart was just playing tricks on you. He wasn’t possibly going to suggest…

“I gave my word and I don’t intend on going back on it,” he said, still not looking at you, ears still pink. “Got any better ideas?”

“Captain Levi…,” you began, but then trailed off, not knowing what to say, until finally you managed out, “You don’t have to do this.”

He scoffed a little, eyes finally flickering back to you. Tentatively, he stepped forward until he was right in front of you again. You stayed perfectly still as he lifted a hand to place it on top of your head, giving you a small pat before ruffling up your hair.

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, taking his hand away to reach into the pocket of his coat.

And then your favorite novel was in your hands, a little more crumpled up than usual but basically intact.

Tears sprang to your eyes and you hugged the book to your chest gratefully, looking to Levi with nothing but adoration.

At that moment, it was all you owned in the world. You didn’t even own the clothes on your back.

“That was really nice,” you choked out, gazing down at the book again with a small smile.

Levi stepped forward again, closing the distance between you as he rested a hand on your shoulder again.

“Let me protect you,” he said, tone filled with an air of finality that you couldn’t argue with. “I know I don’t have to.”

He didn’t have to say the actual words; you understood what he meant.

I want to.

Marriage was all about compromise.

In the end, Levi didn’t get to prolong his nuptials, since marrying you had to be done quickly. However, it also had to be done in secret. So, at the very least, you figured he at least got half of his wishes respected.

The moment the ink was dry on the certificate, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You shed your maiden name to gain a new surname, fully protected from your father now and fully backed by the Survey Corps. It was your 30th day of knowing Levi. Your 1st day of being married.

You took in a deep breath as Erwin took the document from you to sign as a witness, and you turned to Levi with a small and timid smile, which he actually tried to return. It was brief, but it was appreciated. And when he lifted his hand to pat your head affectionately, you melted a little.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a big wedding like you wanted,” he murmured, eyes staring at you with a hint of remorse. “I should have never made you agree to that before.”

A half-smile tugged at one corner of your mouth and you shook your head, nudging your shoulder to his playfully.

“I never really wanted to have a big wedding,” you admitted to him. “I just wanted to have a special day for myself. And for my husband, of course. Didn’t have to be a big thing. It just needed to be special.”

Levi seemed to lighten up at that, giving another brief smile before murmuring, “That’s a relief.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, but he didn’t respond, choosing instead to stand up and offer a hand to help you on your feet as well.

You smoothed down the cream dress Greta had so kindly let you borrow and followed Levi out the door, head held a little higher now that you were an official Ackerman and nothing else. Instead of going to Commander Erwin’s office to go over a few next steps like originally planned, you found yourself following Levi outside.

“Where are we going?” you asked, puzzled, but Levi scoffed a little and turned to look at you from over his shoulder.

“If you could just be a little patient, I promise you’ll find out soon enough,” he said.

It was a beautiful day, you had to admit. The spring temperature was perfect and you basked in the sunlight, feeling freer than you’d ever felt before.

You stepped onto the grass in the courtyard, eyes towards the sky, and it wasn’t until you heard several people clear their throat that you tilted your head down to take a look.

Your heart nearly stopped as you saw Erlo, Greta, May, and Charlie, and some of Levi’s friends, sitting on the grass, a spread of what looked like a marvelous lunch in front of them.

Shouts of congratulations were passed around and you lit up at the sight, heart feeling full as you stumbled over while dragging Levi along.

You turned to him, eyes bright and excited, still not quite understanding.

“What is this?” you asked, looking between your bubble of friends and your brand new spouse.

Levi looked a little uncomfortable, but in that cute way, and Greta beat him to the punch with the answer.

“It’s your wedding day, so we’re celebrating, of course!” she laughed, then nodded towards Levi with a cunning grin. “It was your husband’s idea.”

Levi’s entire face flushed at the term but he also looked murderous at being found out.

You grinned at him, feeling warmed at his gesture, and you made a mental note to pull him aside later for a real thank you.

At that moment, you made do by sneaking a kiss to his cheek, fully appreciating the way he got flustered.

Erwin had made up a new room for you at base and, after a full day’s worth of celebrating your wedding day, you were ready to fall into bed.

The room was right next to Levi’s, which you appreciated. It seemed funny, almost, since of course spouses typically shared a room, but under these circumstances, that wasn’t very likely.

You cared for Levi and you could see that he at least cared for you in some ways, but those feelings would need to be nurtured with time.

The two of you were in front of your bedroom door, with you yawning up a storm, and Levi grumbling about getting you to bed.

You burst into your room and made a beeline for your bed, not bothering to really look around at your new room or even change out of your clothes. As soon as you were on the bed, you felt your drowsiness start to overtake you.

Before you passed out, you peeked over at Levi, who was getting situated at a desk.

“Aren’t you gonna sleep?” you asked, yawning again, and Levi turned to look at you briefly.

“Not for a while,” he answered finally.

You frowned at that but didn’t argue with him, your heart bubbling over with so many questions and feelings that you just couldn’t hold in anymore.

“Do you still dislike me?” you blurted out, face heating up at your lack of filter.

Levi raised a brow, pointedly looking towards the new ring on your finger. Then, his gaze softened, and he leaned back in the chair he sat in.

“No,” he answered. “And I was wrong for judging you before. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance sooner.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, but kept your eyes on Levi, no matter how hard it was.

“Do you think you’ll fall in love with me one day, now that we’re married?”

You couldn't stop that question from tumbling out either, but you were too curious to feel embarrassed.

Levi’s ears flushed pink, a cute new trait you were catching onto. He looked away from you briefly, clearly trying to find the right words, and he took so long to respond that you felt your heart start to sink.

But then he stood from his seat and moved to kneel beside the bed, a hand reaching up to smooth some hair out of your face.

“Let me focus on protecting you first,” he said.

His eyes were the softest they’d ever been. They gave you another answer.

“I’m going to love you,” you promised him. You still couldn’t admit that you were actively falling in love. Not to him, not right now. But another time.

“I don’t deserve that, after how I acted,” he whispered.

“I’ll always forgive you,” you whispered back. “And I’m going to love you.”

Levi moved his hand from your head to tuck you into the sheets a little better, avoiding your gaze. Neither one of you said anything for a minute, a comfortable silence falling between you like that afternoon in the parlor room.

As you began to drift off, Levi’s soft voice filled your ears with one final promise. One that was meant more for him than for you.

“I’ll figure out how to love.”

You were too tired to notice how the sheets smelled like Levi. You were too tired to realize that the room was clearly already lived in and had typical possessions of a squad captain, from ODM gear to a desk clearly stacked up with documents.

You’d been too tired to remember that your bedroom door was the right one and not the left one. You’d been too tired to notice that you’d opened the left door.

Levi was too besotted by you to correct your mistake.

Somewhere, a grandfather clock chimed as midnight struck.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi fic #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi one shot #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk

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gojology · 4 years

Text

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general. Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades. You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch. Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards. Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel. The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back. But the custom notification was sweet as well. You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them. You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances. You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one. Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.” Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone. In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.” Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.” You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible. “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)” You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen. “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.” Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep. ‧₊˚✩彡. You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel. Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle. “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him. He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars. “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.” You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.” Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡. Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face. “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes. “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!” “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.” Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer. “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!” “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind. “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present. “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for. The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life. A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated: “WELCOME BACK QT” “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW” Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit. Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone. “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!” Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo. Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed. Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡. You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room. Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents. The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched. The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest. The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together. Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two. “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight. “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see. “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?” You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again. “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined. “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?” “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?” He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room. “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint. Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala. “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.” Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued. “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table. Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.” “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in. The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool. “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again. “Where do you guys know eachother?” “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?” “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?” “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?” “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?” “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?” Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up. “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper. An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji. “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?” Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards. “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.” “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together. Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.” Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again. Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.

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pedropascallovebot · 3 years

Text

had to repost this because my internet is awful but huzzah i have returned from a writing hiatus i have been doing nothing but reading sambucky fics and i decided to curse the world with a bucky x reader even though no one asked me to. you may now put me in exile.

Bucky likes the smell of the candles you burn in your apartment, even though he swears to you that you have to stop forgetting to blow them out before you go to sleep. He knows that your record player in the corner collects a bunch of dust. He remembers laughing when you had defended yourself when he joked about your devastatingly low vinyl count- "I swear, I do use it! But look me in the eye and tell me Spotify isn't more convenient." He likes the various little crystals and stones you have scattered on your windowsill, even if he doesn't know anything about that stuff. Bucky really likes your bookcase, though. You told him upon his first visit to your place that you thrifted it for an absolute bargain, and it appears that it's been put to good use, given there's not a single place on the shelf for another book to fit without stacking some on top of one another. Most of all, he likes that you’re there. He’s only known you for a short period of time, and he gets that nothing is really official yet… but he likes you. He can’t say it out loud to himself yet, but his therapist definitely knows your name.

All throughout his horrible, miserable, no good bad day, Bucky is thinking about how warm and safe your apartment feels, and consequentially, he's thinking about you. He knows he's got it bad, but there's little to be done about it when his brain starts screaming profanities at him whenever he dares dwell on the thought of your face for too long. He misses you, though. Especially when he's nursing some embarrassment and frustration caused by a group of anarchists pushing him out of a moving truck. He wants so desperately to call and check to see how you're doing, what you're up to, but by the time Sam's got him back home it's nearly one in the morning and he shouldn't wake you. Right? He should lock his door, hang up his jacket, and settle in for a long night of doing nothing but scrolling through the guide of all the weird movies his cable company is playing. He shouldn't be halfway down the stairs of his apartment building to walk across town in the middle of the night to come see you.

But it's inevitable that he ends up at your front door. That annoying yelling in his brain is back, telling him that he should just go home before he knocks and wakes you up, but his hand is already rapping on the wood and he can hear scrambling from the other side of the door. It was only then he realized it might of been a good idea to call ahead, because God, what kind of person is answering the door this late, and who's to say you don't already have someone there already, and fuck, fuck, fuck, it's not too late to just hide behind the big artificial tree that the apartment complex put up for decoration-

You open up right before he can entertain that thought. You look like an absolute angel, he thinks. You’re in some t-shirt that’s way too big for you, and your eyes smile when you see him. But from what he can tell, you're tired. Maybe he did wake you up, and he feels that familiar pinch of guilt in his chest.

"I was, uhm.. in the neighborhood," he starts, his hands very focused on the loose thread of his jacket sleeve. "figured I'd stop by and see how you were."

And there goes your eyes again, kind and soft and welcoming, something that Bucky isn't really used to feeling yet. He's being ushered in, and suddenly realizes the television is still on. The guilt subsides knowing he didn’t wake you.

"You should absolutely be sleeping right now, but I'll let it slide because I miss you," you smile, and Bucky knows he's a goner when you press a kiss to his cheek before shutting the door behind him.

“So should you.” Then, a quiet “I miss you too.”

"Want some tea? Or some coffee? I've got the kettle going with some hot water and I was planning on making some sleepytime tea, but I think I've got a few packets of that instant espresso crap buried if you don't wanna wait for the coffee pot to brew..."

You trail off into a comfortable silence for a minute as he watches as you grab a box of the celestial seasonings that you always kept in stock, the one with the bear sitting by the fireplace. Feeling inclined to help, Bucky attempts to step foot in the kitchen and grab a couple of mugs before immediately being banished to the living room, where he then listened to your rant about how he looked like he just got run over by a moving vehicle, and how he should sit down. Well, you were kinda right. You go to drop a couple of teabags into hot water, but not before you warn him to get on the couch before he falls asleep standing up.

He doesn't follow directions very well, because his feet lead him over to your bookshelf, where you've got some sort of scented wax over a tea light. Eyes trailing over the numerous books you have, he recognized a few. A Farewell to Arms, Main Street, and the two copies you had of The Great Gatsby. He knows you have a love-hate relationship with Harry Potter, but all seven of the books sat at eye level, a bit faded from countless rereads as soon as the weather got colder and you needed something cozy and familiar.

His gaze is caught on one book in particular; one that he thought about earlier today, before a teenager punched the living daylights out of him and before Walker and his unbearably chirpy sidekick made his day go from bad to worse. The Hobbit sat tucked away to the left of The Lord of the Rings, and Bucky reached out and gently pulled it from the row. It wasn't the same cover as the one he had at his apartment- yours had drawn trees and mountains, with runes lining the edges of the illustration. His own copy had what he assumed was a still from the movie adaptation, something he never bothered to watch. He still felt compelled to buy the book when he saw it sitting on the shelf at a store.

"I already called dibs on the Star Wars mug," you joked, heading out into the living room carrying two mugs of tea. "You're gonna have to drink from the-"

"Can you read to me?"

He does feel bad for interrupting you, but to be fair, the words slipped out before he could even stop them. He feels his nerves swell up a bit before you answer him, and the book in his hands feels heavier than it should.

You set the tea down on the small table at the end of the couch before switching on the lamp, offering the room some light which was previously only provided by a few candles, the kitchen, and the glow from the television. You switch that off, too, and the nerves that Bucky was sure were radiating off him melt away.

“Only if you stop standing ten feet away and come cuddle me while I do.”

When you spoke, it took Bucky all of two seconds to make his way to the couch, grabbing the blanket he knows you love and draping it over the both of you as you trade him his tea for the book.

“Teasing me about wanting to read The Hobbit is off the table, doll.” Bucky drapes an arm over your shoulder, making himself comfortable. “A friendly reminder it sits on your bookshelf.”

He hears you giggle and he’s in absolute awe of how much he wants to kiss you. Sure, you both have done plenty of that over the course of time he’s known you, but there’s something about you sitting in his arms with a book he knows so well open in front of you. Home.

“I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I’ve read this, my knowledge of Middle Earth is a bit spotty.”

“I’m willing to bet it’s been even longer for me,” he jokes, but there’s still a sting when he says it. Bucky pushes it aside.

“Alright, old coot. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“The dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and they still played on.”

It takes Bucky all of five minutes and a few sips of tea to get him tired before he’s placing his cup down and resting his head on your shoulder, and you’re almost down for the count, ready to retire to your bed. But you only have about ten pages until the end of the chapter and Bucky is way too good of a pillow to even think about moving. The dwarves start to sing their song, and if you’re remembering correctly, this is when things really start to get good. You debate if you want to continue, but then you look down and see Bucky absolutely zonked, and your mind is made up. You yawn and set the book on the table before reaching over and shutting off the lamp, attempting not to wake up the sleeping figure next to you.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #falcon and the winter soldier

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jgukmilk · 4 years

Text

he won’t know 03 (m) final

➔ summary: after weeks of hiding from the world, your friend, Mina, finally convinces you to crawl out of your cave and join her at a friday-frat party. You definitely didn’t think you’d end up with the person you had spent several weeks trying to avoid.

➔ pairing: Jungkook X Reader

➔ genre: cheating!au, smut, angst if you squint, much deserved fluff fucking finally

➔ warnings: mention of sexual assault, unprotected sex, soft sex because i’m a whore for that shit, jungoo is the one crying in this part, jungoo being a soft idiot nothing out of the ordinary, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), handjob, fingering, mild dirty talk, cervix kisses :), cum eating, throat fucking•_•, runny mascara because it’s chef’s kiss, soft dom jungoo, a really lame biology pick up line at the end that i am pathetically proud of, that’s it..? it’s unedited btw :P

➔ wordcount: 8.3k

➔ a/n: this was a bitch to finish but holy fuck. hope you enjoy ;) feedback is always appreciated !

part 1, part 2, part 3 final.

It had officially been seventeen and-a-half days since Jungkook came to visit you at your dorm, only to end up in you crying your eyes out in front of him and shove him out of your room.

Mina came home later that night and questioned your tear-stained cheeks. Did you tell her? No, of course not. You brushed it off and convinced her that you were having a hard time with the breakup with Jaehyun, that everything was still so fresh, and you simply just needed time. Though that was as far from the truth as it could possibly be, she believed you regardless which you were thankful for.

You didn’t miss Jaehyun, not one bit. You hadn’t seen him after your last encounter, and you thanked your stars daily. To be honest you weren’t given a chance to run into that asshole since you had reduced your time spent outside of the dorm.

Your schedule pretty much consisted of wake up, go to your classes, come back to the dorm, study, eat, sleep, repeat. It sounded like one of those shabby T-shirt every twelve-year-old would wear back in middle school and show it off for being ‘quirky’.

You weren’t complaining, you preferred things this way, for now at least. Though you couldn’t deny that you missed your friends, but you needed some time alone and you knew that, so to distract yourself from missing your friends, what better way to do so than studying till the ass-crack of dawn on a Friday night.

Fridays were the only day of the week you could spend peacefully unbothered. Every other day would consist of countless texts and calls from your friends asking about your whereabouts and why they almost never saw you around campus anymore.

To which you told them you were busy studying and thanked them for checking in on you. It wasn’t a complete lie, you were, in fact, busy studying. They never saw you because, you were always on your desk burying your face between the pages of a textbook. What you didn’t tell them was that you were so far ahead with the curriculum that you could go a whole two weeks without even touching any of your books and you wouldn’t be behind.

You never realized how much you had read ahead until a few days ago when your biology professor had only begun to teach you about DNA replication, transcription and translation. You had already covered half of it.

Your professor always did say that the unspoken rule of studies was to always read ahead. Though you didn’t think he meant to this certain extent.

You hadn’t felt academic stress in a while due to your habit of studying so much, and you were happy about it of course, but holy fuck, you were so bored, and it was starting to get to you.

“Y/N!” perfect timing for your best friend to break you out of your thoughts. Mina happily pranced through your shared dorm room and over to you, “Mina” you said back, smiling, although not in the same enthusiasm, meh – A for effort.

“Oh my god, you’re actually awake,” she said, placing herself on her bed while remaining eye contact with you.

“Well yeah, I have some topics I still need to cover before I go to bed,” Lies. You certainly didn’t have any topics you needed to cover. You would’ve gone to bed if you knew Mina was coming back to the dorm so early. It was Friday night after all, which meant that Mina was out partying with the rest of the guys. Not today, apparently.

“Isn’t there a party today?” you asked, flipping through the pages of the book in front of you, pretending to read through the paragraphs that seemed like nothing more than dull words.

“Well… yeah, but, I figured I’d rather spend my night with you – you know, since it’s... it’s been a while,” you immediately stopped fiddling with the paper, “oh,” was all you could say. “I-I mean, if you wanna study, you totally can! I don’t want to interrupt or – or anything.” You shook your head, “no, no… uhm, I could use a break anyway.” Her face relaxed.

“So… how’ve you been?” you looked around the room, “I’m okay, just studying, nothing else really,” you reassured her “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said, barely above a whisper, however you could still make out the melancholic tone hidden behind her voice.

“yeah… I’m sorry, I’m just – “

“studying? Yeah that seems to be your entire world lately.” She cut you off, her voice a little louder than it was previously. You opened your mouth to respond but – “Y/N c’mon, I know I haven’t necessarily been with you physically lately, but I’m not oblivious. Our exams are in a couple of months and you’re studying as if they’re tomorrow.” She explained all in one breath, “the curriculum this semester isn’t even that content-heavy, even the professors told us we could take it easy.”

“where are you going with this?” you asked in a weak voice. She seemed to have you all figured out. You truly underestimated how well your best friend understood you. “I just want to know why? Why are you avoiding your friends… why are you avoiding me?”

And then it came back. Everything you had been trying to avoid for the past two weeks came back. Jaehyun, the cheating, the assault, Jungkook. You began to feel your eyes stinging, subconsciously you averted them towards the ceiling. “Y/N, there’s something you’re not telling me. I want to help, please let me help.”

You made your way towards the bed, seating yourself next to her, “is this about Jaehyun? Do you miss hi–“

“No, God no I don’t, I’m so happy he’s out of my life,” she looked at you perplexed. And so, you told her. You told her absolutely everything, all the way from Jaehyun trying to touch you when you were trying to explain yourself to him, to the conversation you had with Jungkook in your dorm room several days ago.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you swiftly reached for her hand as you saw her attempt to rush out of your shared dorm, “no! I… It’s over now, he’s out of my life, there’s no reason to go look for him.”

“Of course there is! Why didn’t you–!” She yelled, however quickly stopped herself to calm down. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? He’s getting away with this when he deserves to rot in hell.” It wasn’t that simple. You never wanted to see him again, and telling any form of authority about what had happened certainly meant you were going to cross paths with him often.

Plus, it wasn’t even likely that they would’ve believed you, after all it was your word against his. There was no physical evidence of what he had done. You had your ripped clothes but you threw those away the day after the incident, you never wanted to look at them again and be reminded of this crap.

Then you had the bruises on your wrist, but Jaehyun could easily say that you guys had been into some sort of bdsm to make them believe him. They were also healed now, so there was no evidence at all to secure your side.

“I don’t want to constantly be reminded of what he did, I just want to move forward. Please, you can’t tell anyone.” Your voice cracked at the end, in which Mina reached out to hold your hand. “I don’t want anyone to know,” you cried.

“I’m so sorry, bug,” Mina rubbed your back empathetically, in a subtle attempt to calm you down. Though Mina tried her best to not scream at the top of her lungs, spitting out every profanity to curse Jaehyun. This wasn’t about her, and she knew that very well.

All she could do was comfort you and listen to everything you had bottled up for weeks. “You know what you need?” she smiled at you gently. You sniffled, rubbing your red, tear-stained cheeks, “what?”

“You need fresh air, to doll up and feel good! We all miss you so much Y/N, I don’t want you to spend another Friday night in here alone by yourself.” You raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue, “Wooyoung’s parent are out of town for the weekend so he’s hosting are party.”

“And?”

“And we’re going!” she clapped excitingly, “no Mina I–“ she held both your hands tightly, puppy eyes were presented right in front of you, “pleaseeee, just for an hour, you can leave after that if you don’t like it.”

You thought about it for a moment. You did deserve a break, you needed to get out of the dorm anyway, have some fun with your friends, maybe even get a bit of well-deserved alcohol in your system.

“Fuck it, let’s do i–“

“YES! Okay, okay I know exactly what you’re wearing.” She rushed over to her closet, rummaging through fabric after fabric while you silently watched behind her, seated on your own bed. “Put this on right now,” You didn’t get a good look at the clothing item she threw at you, all you knew was that the fabric was quite tiny. It was a beautiful dark navy and black fabric that was smooth to the touch.

It was a woolen, striped bodycon dress. True to its name – it looked very tight. You looked at her perplexed, “that’s me being nice. My other option was throwing you my skirt that would barely cover your juicy ass.” You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “fine, what shoes with?” she pointed at your black high-top converse that were placed neatly by the door. Alright, black converse it was.

–

“Y/N?” was the first thing you heard when walking through the door, entering the crowd of drunks. Before you stood your friends, the friends you had missed oh so much. Jimin was the first to run to you, lifting you off the ground to swing you around, “Y/N!” He laughed excitingly. Right behind him stood Seokjin, “Okay, I’ve had too much to drink guys I’m starting see Y/N,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Hi Jin.”

One by one, they each gave you a heartwarming hug. Wow, you missed them, and you didn’t even realize, “about time you got out of the damn dorm,” Taehyung complained, you playfully slapped his shoulder. “You don’t get to say shit, you rot in your own dorm just as much as I do when you don’t have classes,” smiling, he scoffed, “I have altered my ways, about time you did too,” you shook your head.

You hadn’t noticed that an hour had already passed by, and you didn’t want to leave one bit. Your night was just getting started. Looking around you spotted all your friends, all but two. Neither had you seen the entire party: Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Jin!” you loudly spoke through the banging music, “yeah?!” he replied, “have you seen Yoongi?” you cupped your mouth in attempt to speak as clearly as possible, “What?! No thank you! I don’t wan’t Oolong tea. There’s booze why would I want tea?!” You rubbed your face, dragging Jin’s ear closer to your mouth, “Have you seen Yoongi?”

“OW, Jesus woman.” He rubbed his ear, “He should be in the kitchen,” you thanked him, and apologetically smiled for almost ripping his ear off.

You skipped your way through the heavy crowd of drunk youth. Some of which even looked younger than that. A string of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ was heard from you as you pushed your way to the kitchen.

“Yoongi?” he turned around, seeing you. He eyed the drink in his hand that resembled the color of piss, “I’ve had too much,” the bottom of the cup now faced the ceiling, the remainder of the liquid spilling down the edge of the cup and down the sink.

“Okay, you guys really have to stop doing that,” you laughed.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” The mint-haired boy asked in a monotone, your smile faltered.

“I’m happy to see you too?” your voice was skeptical. He seemed annoyed, which frankly, you didn’t understand. You hadn’t seen the man in well over two weeks, no way had he found a reason to be mad at you unless you had happened to eat the last lamb skewer in his dream. He always did love his lamb skewers.

“’M sorry, my head’s spinning,” instantly your suspicion was replaced with worry. You quickly made your way to the sink and filled a glass with cold water and handed it to him, which he gratefully accepted. “How’ve you been?”

You sighed, “you want the rainbow-sprinkled version or the one that was dragged through the mud, shat and pissed on,” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll take the piss-stained version, thank you.” He placed the red, water filled plastic cup next to him on the kitchen counter.

“Rough couple of weeks. I’m doing better though, so that’s something.” You shrugged your shoulders. Yoongi listened carefully, gently tilting his head to the side anticipating for you to keep going, however you didn’t, that was all you were going to say. Yoongi wasn’t stupid, clearly something had happened to make you disappear for weeks, but whatever it was it had to remain unknown for him – he wasn’t going to push you to talk to him.

“And where’s Jaehyun been through all of this?” he speculated.

“Uhm, we broke up,” you tried to laugh it off. His brows raised in surprise.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry–“ your hands swung in front of you to shake them. To Yoongi, you had most likely looked like you were sad from the breakup, understandably so. Afterall that is the typical reaction to a breakup, isn’t it?

“Don’t be! My god, no. It could – I’m not –“ you closed your eyes, sighing gently, “It was for the best.”

“I’m not going, Tae,” Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger, attempting to rub the non-existing headache out of his temples.

“Come on, Jungkook. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve partied with all of us,” a hot minute, was putting it lightly. Jungkook was currently in his own shared dorm with Taehyung, with a black DualShock controller seated in his lap – enjoying a game of overwatch shortly before Taehyung had dialed his number. Several empty packets of ramen placed randomly across the room.

Different flavors of course. Variety was important.

“Can’t. ‘m busy.” Though Jungkook couldn’t see it, he was sure Taehyung had rolled his eyes through the other line. “Busy my ass,” Taehyung sighed, “you do this every week.”

“I wouldn’t have to do this every week if you would just stop asking,” Jungkook spat back, with a little more attitude than he had intended. “Jungshi,” the older friend started, “you can’t let this bother you forever,” he knew. Fuck, no one knew better than Jungkook that he couldn’t spend the rest of eternity sulking over this. Over you.

But no one knew how Jungkook was feeling either, every living fiber of his felt either conflicted or guilty. He couldn’t help but think that what had happened to you, was partially his fault – no, it was entirely his fault. Whatever Jaehyun had done was because of Jungkook.

Your words circled back and forth in his mind, day and night. Whenever he closed his eyes all he could see was your tear-stained orbs looking at him with so much hurt and hatred. Telling him to leave and that you never wanted to see him again.

All he wanted to do was talk to you, to know how you were feeling. Were you okay? Were you not? Jungkook had to make peace with the fact that he might in fact never get any answer for any of his questions. All he wanted was to see you, just for one small, useless moment.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Frankly, it seemed like you had completely vanished from the face of the earth, even the guys hadn’t seen you. He managed to get a hold of Mina a few times, briefly asking of your whereabouts. She always tried her best to console and reassure him that you were okay, you were just always busy lately.

Busy.

You were always busy. Jungkook wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what it meant: you were escaping.

Busy.

Oh, how Jungkook had grown to hate that word. How very hypocritical of him, he was mentally scolding you for using the lame excuse of being ‘busy’, all while doing the exact same behind the screen of his phone to his best friend.

“I just need time, hyung.” Jungkook tried to justify. “Time?” Taehyung scoffed, “You’ve had two weeks. I’m sorry Guk, but I’m not gonna sit around while I watch you completely lose yourself.” The younger slid further down the chair, staring blankly at the bright screen displaying the home-screen of his favorite video game.

“She’s here.”

Silence…

You… you were there? He could see you. Jungkook had a chance to see you. “Good to know,” was all he could say. “And you don’t give a rat’s ass?” Of course, he did, but he couldn’t because, “she doesn’t want to see me, hyung. If I show up, I’ll ruin her night. She isn’t hiding from the world anymore.”

“You can’t be sure– “

“Yes, I can,” Jungkook closed his eyes, a small exhale moved past his lips, “I can’t ruin this. Please don’t make me ruin this for her.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He felt weak. He couldn’t describe the growing urge he felt to rush over to whatever party you were at, just to see you. But he couldn’t be selfish. Not again.

Last time he acted selfishly he hurt you. He lost you. He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse – after all, you were out of his life, but Jungkook wasn’t willing to be daring, not if it meant it would hurt you again.

“Fine,” an extended beep was heard from the small speaker of the phone. Completely defeated, Jungkook gently threw his phone back onto his bed. Leaning back in his chair he faced the ceiling. He couldn’t seem to get himself to play another game, so shutting everything down, he went to get himself ready for bed.

Diving under the cool, fluffy sheets didn’t seem to be enough for Jungkook to knock out, which was odd. Jungkook could easily fall asleep anywhere on anything. One time he even managed to fall into a deep sleep after downing two 500ml Monster energy drinks. He had planned to pull an all-nighter with some of his online friends for a good few games of Valorant, the best way to do so was to shove an insanely unhealthy amount of energy drinks down the hatch.

He didn’t expect it to be so easy to fall asleep right away – he didn’t even remember walking over to his bed before dropping dead. But this, this was just frustrating.

He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, until when he finally felt his eyelids become heavy, a key was heard jiggling in the lock of the door. It must’ve taken Jungkook longer to fall asleep than he had anticipated if Taehyung had already decided to leave the party; that boy wouldn’t leave a party unless bits of the morning sunlight was peeking through the windows of the house of the host.

The door finally opened. Jungkook squinted his eyes, adjusting to the new light shining through the door frame. A black silhouette walked pasted the door. It wasn’t until Jungkook’s blurry vision had cleared up that he noticed a feminine like figure standing at the door. Not just anybody, no.

You. In fact.

Jungkook felt his heart begin to tie knots. He was dreaming for sure; there was no way you could just appear in his dorm of all dorms. But there you were, in the flesh. You gently clasped the bundle of keys in your palm, preventing them from making any further noise, taking soft strides through the room – you probably thought he was asleep.

You quietly made your way over to Taehyung’s bed, opening the drawer of his nightstand. Jungkook’s eyes monitoring your every move went completely unnoticed by you. The poor boy was in awe, it was like you were an angel that had descended from heaven and blessed him with your presence. Frankly, in Jungkook’s eyes, you were an angel.

You let a small aha slip past your lips, in your hands was a turquoise polaroid camera. You neared the delicate camera to your face, making sure it was the right item through the darkness, and indeed it was.

About to make your way out of the dorm, your head turned slightly; in the direction of the boy that was currently sweating his balls off and his heart pounding like crazy. Fuck, did you see him looking at you? You must’ve, you wouldn’t look at him otherwise. Could you hear his heart beating through his ribcage? That has to be it, after all it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

He hurriedly closed his eyes, praying to the lord above that for once in Jungkook’s cursed life, the spirits would work in his favor. God, if you do this for me, I won’t fart on Taehyung’s head pillow anymore.

You slowly made your way over to Jungkook’s bed, with each step you took he felt a new set of sweat gather in his warm palms. He couldn’t feel anything, all he heard was the shuffle of his blanket. The blanket that was supposed to be on him.

While Jungkook had gone unnoticed to you, the absence of his soft, grey blanket on his body had been completely disregarded. He had tossed so much in his unreachable sleep that he had kicked his blanket right off of him.

Not only did Jungkook feel his body overcome in warmth, but his heart also danced at the thought of you going out of your way to cover him in his blanket. Your kindness really was out of this world.

No matter how many times someone had hurt you, you never failed to leave the ways of resentment and treat people with kindness. You were truly too kind for your own good. That was one of your qualities that Jungkook was most fond of, the world didn’t deserve you. it didn’t deserve an angel.

You on the other hand, were completely oblivious to the fact that the man in front of you was wide awake. You crouched down by the side of his bed, you really should get going, you weren’t supposed to linger for so long.

Your eyes trailed the sleeping beauty on the bed. He looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheek, a few of the hairs grazing the scar on right side of the skin. His dark hair was sprawled over his forehead. His lips were sealed, but slightly pouty, they looked so soft.

You couldn’t make much of his face, the only source of light being the moon light throw the window.

You hand moved on its own. Fingers trailing to the strands of the dark hair, moving the silky locks out of his face.

You wish things had been different between you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss Jungkook, which is the exact lie you had been telling yourself for weeks. Even though he was right in front of you, you missed him. No, fuck. You couldn’t miss him, even though you wanted things to be different, they never could be.

You snapped out of your daze, removing your hands from his face, you stood up and turned your heel.

“Don’t leave.” You flinched, a small holy shit, was heard from you. Turning back around, you saw Jungkook in the exact same position you had left him in, the only difference was that his eyes were now open. The warm orbs you were completely dazed by were now looking at you.

You had to leave, but you couldn’t, your feet grew minds of their own, obediently staying in place.

Jungkook sat up from his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. He was now seated at the edge of his bed, hands on either side of his thighs, tightly clenching on the sheets beneath him in order to prevent himself from reaching out after you.

There was no exchange of words, you were both lost in each other’s gazes. You were clutching your jacket tightly, looking like a dear caught in head lights. You took a step backwards, gathering every ounce of power you had in your body to try and get out of there. You just couldn’t stay.

“Please,” his voice sounded broken. There it was again – the expression on his face you had never learned to read. His eyelids were droopy, eyebrows relaxed yet slightly furrowed.

He rose from his bed, testing the waters. He examined your reaction before moving any further. When he saw you standing completely still, he took a step forward; you didn’t move, so he took yet another step. That’s when you started to back away, you didn’t look scared or alarmed, so he continued.

This kept going until the back of your thighs met a desk you had failed to notice was there in the first place. You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings.

Jungkook was now in front of you, eyes looking at yours, searching for any sign of uncertainty. But all he saw was sadness and hurt. His heart clenched in discomfort, because partially – if not all – of the hurt in your eyes was because of him.

He wanted to pour his heart out to you, tell you he was sorry for being an asshole. Tell you he would cut his heart into pieces and hand it to you one by one if that’s what it took to make you happy.

But he wanted to be cautious, he didn’t want to scare you off. So instead, he carefully, carefully, lifted his hand up to your face. The knuckle of his middle finger grazed the side of your cheek. You didn’t flinch.

He extended his fingers to hold your cheek in his palm, his thumb ever so slightly caressing the flush skin. It wasn’t until you leaned into his touch that he felt how warm you were. He could barely make out the light tint of a rosy color on your cheeks. Must’ve been from the booze you’ve ingested at the party, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you had barely had enough alcohol to call yourself tipsy.

Deep in your own thoughts, you felt Jungkook’s other hand slip around your waist, the fingers on your cheek descended down to accompany his other hand.

He was hugging you. His face was buried right in the crook of your neck, arms securely wrapped around your frame, fearing for his dear life that you were going to let go of him. His fragile soul couldn’t take it if you did.

You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to hug him back, not until you felt the skin on your shoulder grow wet. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, barely above a whisper – audible to your ear, nonetheless.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your sides lamely. His eyes were glossy, the tip of his nose red, and a few tears had trailed down his cheeks, leaving stains of the salty water. “I’m – It’s my fault, all of it, I know I don’t deserve it but please forgive me.” he sniffled, “I know you hate me, and you have every right to – “

“I don’t hate you,” for the first time that night, you spoke to him. Your voice instantly sedated the distress in Jungkook. You wiped the tears streaming down his face with your cold thumb, which only caused more to fall. “You should… It’s all my fault.”

Although that had been your exact theory for the past weeks, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that the statement was true anymore. You continuously blamed Jungkook for everything that had happened to you, but that wasn’t fair, you realized that now.

Because if Jungkook really was at fault, then so were you. After all, it takes two to tango.

“It’s not,” you tried to soothe the tremendous guilt you could recognize behind his doe eyes, it was the exact same guilt you had felt when you returned from the weekend at the summerhouse. The same guilt that had eaten every bit of your fiber. Blaming yourself for days for having cheated on your now ex-boyfriend who turned out to be the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth.

“You didn’t force me to do anything,” you admitted, “but that fucker – “ Jaehyun, Jungkook hissed.

“Anything that came after the summerhouse wasn’t your fault. Jaehyun showed me who he really was – an asshole in disguise,” at the mention of what you had been through, Jungkook’s grip on your sides tightened slightly. You knew he was blaming himself for what Jaehyun had done.

It wasn’t anyone but Jaehyun’s fault.

You cupped his face in both your hands, smiling softly, “please stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over.” You spoke to him, but also to yourself.

For the longest time you thought it was your fault, that if you hadn’t slept with Jungkook, that you and Jaehyun would still be happy and he would never had touched you like he did.

You and Jaehyun hadn’t been happy for a while, and if he hadn’t snapped you would’ve continued to date A-level garbage.

It took you some time to realize that it was never your fault, and it most certainly wasn’t Jungkook’s fault. Your stomach dropped at the thought of him blaming himself so mercilessly.

He sniffled harder at your words, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorr–“

The kiss was soft. You could tell he completely froze against your lips. Your hands were still on his cheeks; the feel of the occasional tear grazed the skin of your fingers. It didn’t take long for him to melt completely against the plush of your warm lips.

His arms moved back around your waist, pulling you against him until you were flush against his chest. You pulled away. He followed you, refusing that’d be the end of your kiss. His pleading lips captured yours in a second kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss, not having much room to move them any place else when Jungkook was pressing himself so hard against you.

“I missed you,” he breathed between the kiss “so much.” Fuck, if only he knew how much you had missed him, “I couldn’t bare not having you around me.” You hummed against his mouth, hoping he understood that you reciprocated.

You felt his warm tongue scrape against your top lip, pleading to have a taste of yours. You complied easily. Opening your mouth for him to explore the heavenly wonder that was your mouth.

You had kissed Jungkook before, but this felt different, it was softer, much more gentle. The gliding of his tongue against yours felt new, but so right.

You soon came to the agreement that kissing Jungkook was one of your favorite things to do. The slow dance of your lips increased the beating of your heart, you were sure he could feel it knock against his chest.

He lifted your body, as if you were a feather and seated you on the desk behind you, standing right between your legs. His hands resting on either thigh, gently caressing the bare flesh.

Your lips suddenly felt cold, opening your eyes you found Jungkook’s brown orbs staring right at you. Worry began to creep its way up your spine. “What’s wrong?”

“Do… Do you want me to stop?”

He was being careful. Careful not to cross any boundaries. He couldn’t fuck up again, not this time. You smiled at him. Taking his hand in yours, you placed a peck at the top of his palm, “not at all.”

Jungkook swears his heart melted then and there; the softness in your eyes, the relaxed tone of your voice, there was no hesitation. You felt safe, which was everything Jungkook ever wanted.

He leaned back in, you closed your eyes, puckering up thinking he was going in for another kiss. You felt a pair of soft bud-like lips at the side of your jaw, “beautiful,” he whispered to himself. He kissed the top of your covered shoulder.

You leaned back slightly, both hands steady behind you to support you weight. Jungkook leaned forward, following you, refusing that any sort of distance was between you.

Even though you had given him the ok, you could feel Jungkook was slightly hesitant in his moves, which was nothing like the Jungkook you had in front of you almost an entire month ago. He was so confident and cocky, yet now, he seemed unsure.

He was afraid of touching you and screwing up everything.

“I won’t leave this time,” you whispered, moving your head so that you were now looking at him, “I’m not gonna run away.” You took his hand in yours, guiding them towards your tits. Jungkook watched in awe as his hand completely engulfed your breast.

You let go of his hand when you felt him begin to fondle with the perky tit. He moved back to your neck, but instead of small affectionate kisses, he now began to place open-mouthed kisses at the expanse of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, allowing him more space; you felt the corners of his lips curl slightly.

You gasped at the feeling of his tongue gliding over the skin, slapping your hand over your mouth. While one of his hands were busy with your chest, the other removed the hand from your face, “don’t, you sound so pretty.”

The fingers that were once wrapped around your hand moved down your torso, grazing the apex of your thigh. With his mouth still busy on your neck, he hoisted the length of your stripped dress (that was actually Mina’s), just enough to expose most of your legs, but not enough to reveal the fabric of your underwear.

The pad of his cold fingers slithered over the black textile experimentally. Carefully brushing over your clothed clit, you whimpered. You sounded downright touch deprived.

The lustful boy in front of you began sucking on your neck, all while cupping your clothed cunt without warning. “Fuck,” You jumped at the overwhelming touch.

“So sensitive” he mumbled, “aren’t you, angel,” you hummed at the rightfully missed affectionate name. You gripped his shoulders when you felt him massage a little harsher at your mound. Your underwear was beginning to stick to your folds embarrassingly fast.

Jungkook curled a finger around the section of fabric that was directly against your pussy. Providing access for his hand to touch your warmth without removing your underwear. A muffled, high pitched moan of his name rolled off your tongue at his slender finger sliding into your velvety walls.

You were already so wet, and you were sure he noticed how embarrassed you were about it, with the way you were discreetly trying to close your legs.

He used his other hand to keep your legs apart. “Don’t be shy,” he soothed, “I love this pretty” he scraped his finger against the spongy spot, “pretty pussy.”

“Jungkook, please,” you whined, it only caused Jungkook to chuckle whole-heartedly at your neediness, “what is it, baby?” he pressed his thumb against your clit, gently tapping at it. You shuttered.

“I, fuck, I–“ your thighs began to tense, “tell me,” he urged. You were trying your best, but every sentence you were attempted to formulate was instantly thrown out the window the second Jungkook added another finger into your cunt.

His fingers were scraping at your walls, pumping into you or scissoring. The dangerous combination of all of the above, and his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns on your nub had you seeing stars.

Too focused on his magical fingers, you overlooked the small detail of Jungkook now sitting between your thighs, kneeling. He rubbed your thigh soothingly.

Deciding to help you out, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around the lame excuse of your panties, dragging the pathetic fabric down your legs. You were now completely exposed.

Jungkook eyes you between your legs, shamelessly. “Pretty girl,” he wooed. He pulled his fingers out of you, you whined at the empty feeling.

He brought his soaked fingers up to his tongue, slowly licking them clean, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Telling yourself you could cum from the sight alone was in no way an understatement.

“Mmm, good, so fucking good.” He purred against his fingers. “Bet it would taste even better from here,” teasingly, he slid his finger up your soaked slit, punctuating his sentence, “wouldn’t it, angel?” You quivered at his words. “is that what you want?” yes. “your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes – Yes, please. Please eat me out,” without further ado, Jungkook wasted no time placing a much-deserved kiss on your swollen bud. You moaned in relief, throwing your head back at the feeling of Jungkook’s lips circling your clit.

You bucked your hips at the feeling of his tongue sloppily gliding against your folds. Your fingers found themselves tangled in Jungkook’s dark and messy locks. He praised you.

Small grunts and low moans were felt against your warm cunt, “such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself against you. You clenched around nothing at the compliment.

“Feels so good,” you cooed, “yeah?” small licks turned into long laps, “yeah – fuck, don’t stop.” Stopping was the furthest thing from Jungkook’s mind.

You felt knots beginning to tie at the pit of your stomach, Jungkook could easily feel you were about to burst. The constant tugging of his hair and the pulsating cunt was all he needed, to know he was doing his job right.

“I love seeing you so needy for me,” at this point, you’re chanting his name shamelessly. It isn’t until Jungkook adds a finger lamely circling your clit that you feel you’re about to snap. The familiar ache between your legs became almost unbearable, you threw your head back and shut your eyes.

“Eyes on me when you cum,” you obliged. Bending your head forward to watch Jungkook eat your cunt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The view was the most sinful yet the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. His brows are furrowed, he murmured against your warmth. You occasionally saw the tip of his nose, and when you did it was absolutely soaked in your arousal.

“Oh my fuck– Jungkook.”

It’s only when Jungkook uttered his next sentence that you felt the knot in your stomach unravel. “Fuck, baby, I could eat you out for the rest of my life,” you’re breaking apart.

Your hips surge forward, pathetically grinding on Jungkook’s face — he lets you. Helping you ride out your high, he slowly laps his tongue over your spasming pussy. He’s watching your every move, “delicious,” he smiled innocently as if his mouth wasn’t completely covered in your cum.

He stood up once again, licked his lips clean in the process and you swore you just felt something trail down your thigh. Once he was at eye-level with you, you looked down and saw the tent that has formed in his sweatpants.

Naturally, you go to grab his cock. Not wanting to waste time, you wrapped your fingers around it over the material. He visibly shuttered at the feeling, and it wasn’t until then that you realized you hadn’t touched Jungkook – at all. Not even back at the summer house.

Here you were, complaining over how selfish Jaehyun used to be whenever you two were having sex, saying he never touched you properly or showed any ounce of effort.

You weren’t any different. So far, Jungkook had only been the giver, and you had been a spoiled pillow princess.

Trailing your eyes back up to Jungkook, you watched him carefully as you curled a finger around the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously, dragging the unnecessary material down his legs.

His cock sprung up, hitting his stomach. The tip was red and hot, several drops of precum dripped down the angry shaft. He was impossibly hard and you began to feel guilt overcome you for having been so selfish with pleasure. Determined to make it up to him, you placed all five tips of your fingers at the very apex of his cock, sliding down until your palm comes in contact with the tip.

The prettiest whine you’d ever heard rolled off of Jungkook’s lips, he watched you attentively, “y-you don’t have to–“ you shushed him, “I want to.”

You twist your wrist and positioned your fingers around his dick. Using your thumb to spread the precum, you lightly brush his frenulum in which he grunts, “fuck, babyyy,” unintentionally thrusting up into your hand.

You squeezed harder and began to pump his cock. The surprising rotation of your wrist was enough to have him slap both hands on either side of the desk, completely trapping you.

“Faster,” he pleads, “go faster,” and you do. His head drops down to your shoulder. He tried to distract himself by sucking another bruise onto the skin of your neck, but it was completely hopeless with the pace your hand was pumping.

Rhythmically, he was subtly thrusting his hips into your hand, matching the pace. He couldn’t wait to fuck you, so for the time being, he had to fuck your hand. And God, it felt so good it was almost pathetic how much a handjob could rile him up.

You felt his hips stutter, and now it was his turn to chant your name. You placed a soothing kiss on the expanse of his shoulder, “Mmm gonna – haah, shit,” You hurriedly pushed him back gently and dropped to your knees. “What are you – Fuck!”

Most of his length is now shoved down as much as your gag reflex allows, and it isn’t until you have Jungkook’s cock halfway down your throat that you realize how fucking impressive his size is. The thought of having him stretch you out with his girth is enough to make you wet all over again.

Jungkook can’t resist collecting your strands of hair up into a ponytail and piston into your mouth, “s-sorry, I’m sorry,” strings of apologies are heard throughout the room, along with the sound of you choking. Your eyes begin to sting, fresh tears falling down the side of your cheek. He continues to fuck your throat, and contrary to his belief, you fucking love it.

You steady yourself by grabbing the sides of his thighs. Echoes of Jungkook’s moans and heavy sighs fill the room, alongside the sound of his cock continuously thrusting down your throat.

“so pretty, you’re s-so fucking pretty like this,” you hum at his praise, “like the feeling of my cock down your throat, huh? Dirty girl, fuck,” at this point your mascara had completely stained your cheeks.

The sight of your brows furrowed, eyes filled with tears, mascara-stained cheeks, and the absolute cherry on top: Jungkook repeatedly plunging his impossibly hard cock down your sore throat, was all it took for him to blow his load.

You’ve never heard such a moan come from Jungkook, it sounded broken and you’re certain it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever hear in your life. You felt the warm, white liquid coat the walls of your cheeks and throat and you made sure to swallow every single drop.

You’re stopped from licking his dick clean when Jungkook pulls you back up to meet him at eye level. He lifts you up to sit at the desk again, hands on either side of you, he looks you dead in the eye, “I want to fuck you,” he says bluntly.

Your eyes widen slightly at his directness. Confused, you look down at his dick and holy fuck – he was still incredibly hard. Seriously, this boy had some serious stamina. You assumed his extraordinary stamina must’ve developed all those years in the gym.

You felt tiny under his gaze, you meet his eyes, nonetheless.

“Come here and fuck me then.” You felt bold when a shaky breath left his mouth. He hoisted both your legs up to his waist, causing you to lean back slightly, both your hands were forced to sit behind you once again to prevent yourself from falling backwards.

Without another word, Jungkook sealed the distance between your lips with a sweet kiss.

“Ohmygod–” was all you were able to say when his cock slowly disappeared inside of you, your walls of warmth hugging his length. Once again, you had underestimated just how big Jungkook actually was. He snaked a hand to meet the small of your back to steady himself before he finally began to pull himself out, leaving his tip, only to push back in.

You whined at the delicious stretch. Setting a fixed pace, Jungkook repeatedly thrusted into you, while his lips were busy on yours. You wrapped both arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hairs of his nape. “Mmm fuck,” he moaned deliciously against your lips.

“Feels good?” he asked, parting your lips with a soft chu. You nodded; your eyelids lazily drooped over your orbs; eyebrows scrunched together at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix. He felt so good.

“Say it,” he rasped, “tell me how good it feels,” his thrusts grew harder, “tell me how good I’m fucking this pretty pussy. My pussy,” his pussy, yes, it was his.

You cried at the claim. “It feels so good Guk – fuck I love when you fuck me like this.”

He pounded harder, as if he was trying to punctuate something. Both your breaths quickened, equally as eager to chase your own high as you were each other’s. Pushing his chests flush against yours, he leaned his forehead against yours, neither of you broke eye contact.

“L-love you,” he cried. “I love you.”

It felt as if all the air in your lungs was punched out of you, you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was Jungkook’s hips thrusting into yours unforgivingly, or if it was the fact that the boy you basically watched grow up happened to be the same person you’ve liked since middle-school, standing in front of you, telling you he loves you.

You lied to yourself, you genuinely thought whatever strong feeling you felt for Jungkook had died down, that you had truly moved on. You even got a boyfriend and all that.

But it wasn’t until you heard Jungkook utter those three words that you realized they never went away, no – you had hidden those feelings away in a box and chained several chains around it to keep them suppressed.

You loved him too, of course you did. You never stopped loving him for fucks sake. It pains you to think about how much crap both of you were put through for you to realize this.

“I love you.”

12-year-old Y/N was applauding and smiling like crazy; you finally said it. The love you had carried for Jungkook in your poor overwhelmed heart was finally spilled all over the table.

Jungkook’s hips stuttered at your reciprocating words. He hadn’t expected you to say it back, but for the love of all that is holy; he loved hearing you say it, it sounded so pretty coming from you. “Say it again,” he was now smiling, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

His eyes were glowing, so of course you had to say it again, “I love you. Fuck – I always have.”

“Again.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” completely out of breath, you caressed the side of his cheek, watching as his eyes teared up once again. He only fastened his pace, if that was even humanly possible. Lovingly, you ran your thumb across the scar that laid right on his cheek, “I am in love with you.”

That being said – Jungkook exploded, with you following right after him. You were holding on to each other for dear life, with slow pumps to help ride out your highs. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, at your final clench.

Small strings of I love you’s were heard from Jungkook who was breathlessly panting into your neck. He kissed your temple, guiding a small string of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he started, “I’ve been in love with you since freshman year of high school,” he smiled adoringly at you, “the first day we had a biology class, I saw you slip a note into my locker that read ‘if I could be a nitrogen base, I’d be adenine so I could be paired with U.’ and there was a small purple bellflower taped to the corner of the paper. You’ve had my heart ever since that day.”

Your eyes widened, physically cringing at yourself in your teenage years, “I can’t believe you knew it was me, and really? That’s what it took for you to like me back?” You giggled, “you can’t blame me, you were, and still are, extremely adorable.” He shrugged his shoulders. You gently pushed his shoulders, feeling your face turn red at the reminder of your rather sappy biology pick up line.

“Well, I’ve loved you since middle school. I win this one, Jeon.”

Saturday 02:57AM

“What’s taking so long, Y/N should be back by now,” Jin winced, eyeing the small watch on his wrist.

Taehyung and Mina looked at each other, “do you think it worked?” Mina questioned, a beaming smile plastered across her face, “yup,” Taehyung crossed his arms proudly. “Operation tell-Y/N-to-get-polaroid-camera-because-Taehyung’s-too-drunk-for-his-own-good-so-that-she-could-be-trapped-in-the-same-room-as-Jungkook-and-make-up… Was a success!”

taglist: @selinashere @jjenjen @ladyartemesia @emsuzz @iamjiminsfloor @silvlyjmhwa

#jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk smut #fluff #angst #he won't know #fanfic

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 4 years

Text

Doodles and Dicks | Nishinoya Yuu/Reader

Characters: Nishinoya Yuu, Reader, and a bunch of the other Karasuno team, and Ushijima Wakatoshi

Pairings: Nishinoya Yuu/Reader

Word Count: 2364

Summary: You'd waited your whole life to see what your soulmate would write to you on your 17th birthday; you longed for sweet messages from him. Luck wasn't on your side as ink traced over your skin. Are you meant to be upset by the dicks on your arms?

A/N: Okay, so I wrote this a little bit ago when I was on a mega fluff run, and I love it so much. You can also check it out on AO3 and give me a little love there if you want uwu

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You wanted to be mad as you stared down at your forearm; you wanted to scratch profanities into your arm in the hopes he’d subconsciously get the message. Surely you had every right to be upset, your friend said you had every right to be, yet you couldn’t be.

Every single day since you could remember you’d longed to turn 17 so that you could see sweet messages from your soulmate; you’d write how much you couldn’t wait to meet them in the cutest handwriting you could, because maybe they were older than you?

As you got ready for school on your birthday, October 10th, you couldn’t help but feel excitement at what your soulmate would say to you. You were a bundle of nerves the entire day.

And then you felt it; the familiar feeling of ink in your skin, but you hadn’t drawn on yourself, so that only meant one thing. Your face shot down and you stared with wide eyes as your soulmate doodled on himself. At first it was innocent enough, a few faces, some equations for his work. But then it got worse. You watched with excitement, too much excitement, as he started to doodle again. Your face dropped, followed by your heart, a lump formed in your throat as you watched the worst thing he could have drawn appear. A penis.

By the time it was lunch, you had so many over your arms that it was embarrassing. You wanted to bury your head into the dirt and never come out again; you felt lucky to have such comforting friends. They took out their pens and tried to write out for him to stop, when that didn’t work, they deduced that he probably hadn’t turned 17 yet.

The real question would be: when was he going to turn 17?

----

Everyday your soulmate made it slightly harder to like him.

After the third day of non-stop, rude drawings over your arms, your class decided to make a guessing game of what would be drawn on you that day. You only seemed to be able to get a break on weekends, so you could mostly relax around your family.

He’d pushed you over the edge one day when you’d woken up to doodles all over your face - the real kicker was that he could wash it off, but it would stay stained on your skin until you woke up the next morning. Your dad had snapped a picture of it, laughing softly at your scowling face.

Everyday you wrote some form of profanity back, not sure what your goal was.

About a month in you’d started to take pictures of the doodles at the end of the day, donning a tank top and shorts. Some days you’d pull a silly face, other days you’d flip off the camera to really let him know how badly he’d fucked up. More often than not, you’d circle your favourite drawing, whether it was a particularly well done penis, or a small doodle of a happy face.

You printed them out, kept them safe inside of a photo album like a sick reminder of all your suffering - you wouldn’t admit it outloud, but your favourite was the day he’d drawn on your face. It never failed to make you laugh at the scowl you were pulling mixed with the clown nose and whiskers.

It had been an entire year, you woke up on your 18th birthday with a small headache. How young was your soulmate? You were starting to worry until you felt the familiar pen ink on your skin.

Can you read this?

You furrowed your brows. Had he just turned 17 today? On your birthday? You shared a birthday with your dick-drawing soulmate?

Where do you live? I need to see you. You wrote back.

Wow! Nice to meet you too. I have practice today at Karasuno, could you meet me there?

The name was familiar, you’d heard some of the boys on the volleyball talking about them. You pulled up directions and figured out it was only a forty minute walk to you.

What time?

He gave you what information you needed to know and you sent him back an innocent smile before hopping out of bed to get ready.

----

Should you have been nervous to meet your soulmate? It felt kind of relieving, like any tension or stress you’d built up was finally leaving you; you couldn’t seem to care that he was definitely immature, that was part of the charm you’d learnt to appreciate.

“I’m not lost…” you grumbled down the phone to your friend who had been, not-so-lovingly, giving you directions. Maybe she was right, that you were just a little lost, but you weren’t going to admit that to her.

You looked around, noticing a building, Sakanoshita shop, a small group of boys huddled up outside. “I really doubt it.” She huffed.

“I’m just going to ask someone else, you’re giving me a headache.” You clicked off the call before she could berate you for ‘being so disrespectful’ and ‘you’d probably be kidnapped if it weren’t for me’ or ‘would you talk to your mother like that’. Blah, blah.

Shoving your phone in your pocket and adjusting your grip on your photo album, you jogged up to them, ignoring the slight ache in your legs. One of the boys with long hair and a goatee turned around, catching sight of you. You felt slightly intimidated until he smiled, “hello?” He called out to you.

“Do you know the way to…” you pulled up your sleeve, checking the address, “Karasuno high school?” They looked a little shocked but nodded nonetheless.

“We’re heading there actually,” a boy with short brown hair said, “why do you need to go there?” He slowly started walking, ushering for you to follow.

You quickly caught up, letting out a breath, “I have to meet someone. Well, more than just someone.” You shrugged, trying not to make it seem like such a big deal. “Just my soulmate.”

“Oh, that’s a big deal!” The third boy with grey hair smiled down at you, “I bet you’re so excited to finally meet him.” They shared glances, like they knew something you didn’t, but you didn’t read too much into it, just focused on trying to match their pace.

“I guess,” you shrugged again, “I’ve been waiting a year. Literally, a whole year.” You tried to seem more gleeful, these boys looked trusting enough, but if you needed to fight them you doubted your abilities.

“Wait, it’s your birthday today?” The first boy asked.

“And his, too, apparently. Either that or he was drawing dicks on his arm just to piss me off,” you snickered, absentmindedly tracing the back of your hand.

“Happy birthday,” the third boy smiled softly. You continued to walk with them, chatting lightly about things that didn’t mean anything. They introduced themselves to you, and so did you. It didn’t take much longer for the school to appear into view, a small hoard of boys stood at the front gate, chatting amongst themselves until they caught sight of the four of you.

You scanned your eyes over the boys, watching as confusion painted their face. “Of course you three pick up a hot chick before you even get here!” A boy with a shaved head called out, jogging over and introducing himself to you. Tanaka Ryuunosuke.

“She was actually trying to find this place.” Daichi chuckled. “Looks like she has a meeting with her soulmate.” You slowly rolled up your sleeve to reveal this morning's conversation written onto your arm. “Where’s Noya? I’m amazed he hasn’t come to meet the birthday girl.” Tanaka shrugged before turning back to you.

“It’s your birthday?” Tanaka asked, eyes widening.

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes, “I’ve had to wait far too long to meet the boy who doodles dicks on his arm, and on his birthday, too.”

“What’s with the book?” A tall blond with glasses walked over.

“This contains almost every single day of last year, minus a month; the doodles that… Noya?” You looked at Daichi who nodded, “that Noya forced me to wear to school.”

“What school do you go to?”

“Shiratorizawa.”

They all looked surprised, opening their mouths to yell before someone came running up behind you. You barely managed to avoid the sudden attack, watching a small boy with spiky black hair expertly roll in front of you. He turned to face you, eyes lit up like a wildfire and a grin splitting his face in two. A small section of blond hair fell onto his forehead and you couldn’t help but smile - he’s so adorable.

“Soulmate?” He excitedly thrusted his wrist at you.

“Don’t ‘soulmate’ me.” You shoved the album into his arms and started ranting. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to be in the middle of class and suddenly have dicks up and down your arms?” He slowly opened the photo album, immediately greeted with your scowling face with doodles on it. “And don’t get me started on that, why would you do that?” He slowly flipped through the pages, taking his time to read each reason as to why a certain doodle was your favourite. “I was so happy to turn 17 but then you cursed me with these doodles for a whole year, I’m just happy my friends took it so well. They made it a game. It couldn’t have been worse until Toshi started betting money; that’s when it went from a game to a war.” A small blush tinted his cheeks.

“You took pictures of them for a whole year?” He asked, voice softer.

“Well, more like 11 months because I was too busy being made for the first month,” you mumbled, sitting down at his side, “but, yeah, basically a whole year.”

“Alright, birthday couple, we have to head to practice.” Daichi sighed, looking at you both with wonder in his eyes.

“Birthday… couple?” Noya asked, looking at you.

“I waited a year exactly to hear your response. So, yeah, happy birthday.” You stood back up, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.

“I didn’t get you anything!”

“I don’t think anything you got me could make up for last year.” You giggled.

“You’re so cute!” He blurted out, making you blush. “I got a hot girlfriend, soulmate, everything! I’m so happy I get to meet you, this is the best day ever.” He jumped up and down excitedly, following close to you as you started to head into the school.

“Just feel lucky I’m not mad at you,” you sighed, not resisting the smile on your lips.

“So, what’s this about you going to Shiratorizawa?” Daichi pressed you further on the matter.

“Oh, right, well. I just go there. It was more for convenience but I had the grades for it, and my boyfriend at the time was going there on some volleyball scholarship.” You waved it off as if it was nothing but they all stared at you.

“You dated someone on the volleyball team?” Someone to your left blurted.

“Who were they?” Someone on your right yelled.

“You got into Shiratorizawa and I didn’t.” Someone else sighed.

“You had a boyfriend?” Noya looked sad.

“Everyone calm down,” Sugawara did his best to ease their overwhelming questions.

You took a deep breath and answered them all, “yes, I did. We were together all of middle school and for most of high school until he turned 17. It was Ushijima Wakatoshi,” another round of confused noises blew from them and you rolled your eyes, meeting Noya’s. “At the time, I thought he was my soulmate, we worked really well together. But we don’t have any hard feelings now, and his soulmate is super sweet even if they are taking it slow.”

Noya seemed to accept your answer, though he didn’t seem happy about it. How could you expect him to be?

Cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your eyes, you spoke, “hey, what are you worrying about?”

“He’s just…” he sighed, looking away, mumbling, “so much taller than me…”

You snorted, surprising him, “and? You’re my soulmate. Besides, I think you’re cute. Talls guys piss me off too, so you’re my sweet spot.” You nuzzled your nose against his and felt heat hit his face at record speed.

----- Noya thought he’d hit the jackpot with you. You were smart, funny, supportive, and so caring that his heart would melt.

He loved seeing you during the week, walking so far just to see him for a little while, taking silent pictures of his face in concentration during practice. He loved hearing you laugh with Kiyoko and Yachi. He listened to your endless rambling about something that had happened in your class.

You came to watch all his games, his numbers painted on your cheeks and sporting a Libero outfit that matched his, cheering so loudly from the sidelines.

When they made it into the battle against Shiratorizawa, he’d sworn that you would cheer for your school that he was surprised to see you donning his numbers again; cheering with no shame for him. He’d had to hold back giddy smiles when he heard you chastising Ushijima for injuring Tsukishima and nearly hurting Noya at some points.

The biggest shocking point was watching Ushijima stand in front of them, pride gone to the wind, you stomping your foot behind him like an angry mom, apologising for hurting them. When you were satisfied, you smacked him on the back and congratulated him for doing so good.

Noya was happy when you revealed that you planned on travelling the world after school instead of going to college. He was happy when you said he could join. Happy when you agreed to move in with him after you finished high school.

His heart nearly stopped when you agreed to marry him with tears streaming down your cheeks. He thought he might die when you walked down the aisle, a small tattoo on your wrist that had been difficult to explain. A small doodle of something you now thought of so warmly.

A penis.

#nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yuu #hq #hq writing #hq x reader #fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #writing #my writing #soulmate #au #haikyuu au #haikyuu nishinoya

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sophie-writings · 4 years

Note

Can I request a scenario for Prohero!Bakugu where the reader is his crush and also a pro hero but the media just decided that the reader was an easy target to make fake news on which the people believe so reader has to disable comments on social media, people throw stuff at or harrass reader or yell at them "for ruining their Baku-ship" and even get demoted for saving Bakugou's life because their luck can't get any better. Bakugou visits them on their forced vacation and they're a crying mess

I got carried away and this ended up being 1000+ words long 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Character: Bakugou Katsuki

Type: Scenario

Katsuki Bakugou

You're y/n, pro hero, a former student from UA. You graduated with the rest of class 1-A and landed a job at one of the best hero agencies in the country. You fought alongside some of your former classmates, but especially Bakugou, your best friend and ally.

You had to confess you had a crush on this man, but afraid of ruining your friendship, you decided to not confess. His friendship was enough for you.

But people online seemed to like to see you two together. You had some fan accounts just for your ship, people made edits of you two and gossip media outlets talked about your "secret romance".

You found it entertaining, but Bakugou seemed flustered by it.

"Look at this edit our fan page made for us! I'm gonna retweet it ".

"Ugh you pay too much attention to those".

Life was sweet. Until it wasn't.

You woke up one day and turned on your tv, so you could listen to the news while getting ready.

You were in the bathroom, brushing your teeth when you almost choked. "Is pro hero h/n, slowing down pro hero Bakugou?"

You ran to the living room and stared at the tv, showing images of a fight that happened some days ago.

"It seems like in a battle that happened two days ago, Bakugou was injured after jumping in front of an attack that was supposed to hit y/n."

That didn't happen. Sure, the images suggest that but it wasn't the case at all.

The reporter continued. "Y\n tried to control the situation right after, but could only defeat the villain after causing some major damage to the urban area around."

You turned off the tv, not being able to listen to it anymore. This was a major misunderstanding, but no one listens to that right?

You checked your social media and realized your name was trending everywhere, but people seemed to be on your side.

With a sigh of relief, you left the house and headed to your agency.

Every single of your friends were supportive of your situation. Uraraka hugged you tightly as soon as she saw you and told you people would just stop eventually.

You were assigned to patrol the streets with Bakugou that day and both of you went out. He didn't mention anything about the news, which isn't surprising since he rarely pays attention to gossip media outlets and social media.

"Watch out!" Bakugou said and he pulled you against him.

You were so focused on your own thoughts you didn't even realize someone tried to throw a soda can at you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Bakugou asked the young man who was still standing there.

"Why are you protecting her after what she did to you?"

"What the fuck...?" Before Bakugou could say anything else, the man sprinted away from the scene. He thought of chasing the guy, but you stopped him.

"Just... leave him be, it's not worth it".

The rest of the day was exactly the same, with people throwing and yelling profanities are you. Bakugou was confused as to why everyone was acting like that all of a sudden, but you didn't answer his questions.

Once the day was over and you both returned to the agency, you were called to the boss office.

"Y/n, I think you already know why I called you here. I want you to know that I don't blame you for anything. But it's not safe for you to be around for a while". Your boss didn't want to do this, but he had no other choice if he wanted to protect you. "You're dismissed until further notice".

You didn't even try to argue anymore. You were tired and just bowed slightly before leaving his office and going home for the day.

Two days passed you were still home. The hate online hasn't stopped, in fact, it got worse. But it was nice to see your supporters defend you.

You had to disable comments on social media because of all the hate you were getting. Now that you're home, all that you did was read those comments, and it was hard on your mental health.

Honestly just remembering some of the words was enough to make you cry.

A hard knock on the door was enough to snap you back to reality. You look through the peephole and it was Bakugou. You dried your eyes in a swift movement and opened the door before he punched a whole through it.

"Hello, Bakugou, long time no-". "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME".

The loud sound of his voice ringed through your ears.

"Deku was the one telling me about everything!" He continued. "The fake news spreading around, all the hate you were getting... Why didn't you tell me sooner?".

"It wasn't that bad and I thought it would stop eventually..."

"It wasn't that bad? Look at you, YOU'RE CRYING". You didn't even realize the tears had started to fall from your eyes once again.

"I- I don't know what to tell you". You looked down at your feet. You were embarrassed to be crying in front of Bakugou because of something like this.

The man in front of you let out a frustrated sigh and held you by the back of the head, pulling you closer to his chest.

The warmth for his body made you feel safe and sound, and every problem seemed insignificant for a second.

"You should've told me, so I could protect you, stupid." With his free hand, he pulled you closer by your waist. "I really care about you dammit, haven't you noticed that?"

"I really care for you too Bakugou, you're a precious frien-".

"Not as a friend, idiot." Bakugou let go of your head and held your chin up. "It's much more than that".

He closed the space between both of you with a tender kiss. His kiss was so gentle that for moments you thought you were dreaming. You held him by the sides of his face, deepening the kiss, but Bakugou pulled away before things got too heated.

"Gosh I've wanted to do this for years, but let's get this story straight first so you can go back to work".

You smiled at his words, and once again, your problems seemed insignificant.

"Yes, let's do that".

#bnha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou scenarios #bnha x reader

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thatsamericano · 4 years

Text

Palm to Palm is Holy Palmers’ Kiss

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Hungary, Ancient Greece, and Canada are mentioned.

Genre: Fluffy high school human AU. No warnings. Teen-rated for minor cursing and mildly suggestive making out.

Word Count: 2154

Notes: Written for the Day 2 prompt “hand kiss” on @hetaliancupid-hetaliaevent. The title is taken from a scene in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, which is also quoted in the fic.

Summary: Alfred needs help rehearsing his lines for the school production of Romeo and Juliet, and his best friend Savino agrees to help him. But the fact that Alfred is playing Romeo and Savino is reading Juliet’s lines makes things complicated, especially since they’re rehearsing the first kiss scene.

“Hey, Vinny, do you mind helping me rehearse my lines a little? I’m supposed to start rehearsals with Erzsébet tomorrow, and I want to make sure I have them memorized by then.”

Savino glanced up from the math homework he’d barely started and saw his best friend Alfred standing there with a hopeful grin, sky blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses, and an opened script book held in his hands. For his own well-being, Savino should have refused and told Alfred he was too busy to help him read lines. Alfred was starring in the upcoming school play as the male lead in Romeo and Juliet, and Erzsébet was playing his love interest. The last thing Savino needed was to torture himself by reading romantic lines to his best friend and secret crush when he would never have the guts to say anything romantic to him in any other context. But, unfortunately for him, Savino had never been good at refusing Alfred, especially when he pulled out the puppy dog eyes.

Savino frowned as he shoved his math book, his pencil, and the sheet of notebook paper he’d been using into his messenger bag. “I’ve got a lot of other shit to do, so I’ll help, but not if it’s gonna take too long.”

Alfred bounced over and plopped down on the couch next to him. “Don’t worry, dude. I just need you to help me with this one scene.” Alfred passed the script over to him. “My lines start at the top of page 15.”

Savino gulped when he saw that Alfred wanted him to rehearse the fucking kissing scene from Act 1. Jesus Christ. That was worse than the goddamned balcony scene.

He quickly glanced over Alfred’s shoulder just to make sure they were alone in the student lounge. Rehearsing this scene with Alfred would be embarrassing even without witnesses, but Savino couldn’t stand for them to have an audience.

Alfred abruptly grabbed his left hand, and Savino quickly glanced down at the page to make sure Alfred was reading his lines correctly. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss,” Alfred said. He read the lines perfectly, with a sincere, lovestruck tone that was appropriate to the scene. No wonder he had been cast as the lead in the school play.

Alfred bent his head down to brush a feathery kiss over Savino’s knuckles, and Savino trembled. Alfred wasn’t the best at picking up on the subtleties of body language, but Savino wasn’t being subtle, so Alfred noticed right away. He gave Savino a worried look. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if this is weirding you out. I wouldn’t normally kiss your hand, but I’m supposed to kiss Juliet’s hand according to all the movie versions of this I’ve seen. And I think it will be easier for me to remember my lines if I stay in character.”

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it, that was all.” It wasn’t fine, but not for the reasons Alfred believed. Savino knew he wouldn’t be able to stop daydreaming about that simple hand kiss for weeks.

He cleared his throat and read Juliet’s responding lines out loud. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.” His delivery was much more awkward than Alfred’s had been, but Savino wasn’t an actor and had never claimed to be.

Alfred shifted his hand a little so that their palms were touching. “If touching our palms together is kissing, what’s lacing our fingers together? Making out on the couch?”

Savino narrowed his eyes and tried to push the thought of them ignoring the script and making out on the same couch they were sitting on to the back of his mind. “Idiota, you know that isn’t the line.”

Alfred shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “I know. I was just wondering. The metaphor doesn’t really hold up, in my opinion.”

Savino rolled his eyes, and Alfred got back into character. He gave him a coy look, like he was trying to flirt. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

Savino quickly glanced down at the script book to read his next line. “Ay pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Alfred inched closer to him on the couch, like he was preparing to kiss him, and Savino couldn’t help stammering a little as he read his reply.

“S-saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”

Alfred let go of his hand to cup his cheek, which had heated up, no thanks to all the blushing he was doing. “Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.”

Alfred started to lean in, and Savino leapt off the couch, dropping the script book in the process. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I agreed to help you read lines, not kiss you, you stupid stronzo!” Under different circumstances, he would be thrilled to kiss Alfred. But he was not going to help Alfred rehearse how he planned to kiss another person. Savino may have had a problem going along with Alfred’s whims even when he shouldn’t, but he wasn’t an emotional masochist. Kissing Alfred when it wouldn’t mean anything was more pain than he was willing to put himself through.

Alfred pouted up at him. “Dude, Mrs. Karpusi told me and Erzsi we don’t actually have to kiss. We just have to make it look like we’re kissing. That’s why I covered your cheek. So that when I leaned in and stayed about an inch away from your lips, it would look like we were kissing if we had been onstage.”

“Oh. That makes a lot of sense, actually.” Savino crossed his arms over his chest in an automatic attempt to shield himself since he was embarrassed by his own overreaction. Of course Alfred wouldn’t try to kiss him. He’d never even want to kiss him.

Alfred sighed. “I’m sorry I freaked you out. I wouldn’t try to kiss you just because I’m rehearsing a play. I know you don’t see me like that.” His body had slumped as he talked, and he was glancing over at the vending machine instead of making eye contact. His entire demeanor seemed despondent, and his mood seemed to be caused by something bigger than the fact that his best friend had just accused him of doing something he’d never even think of doing.

No, Savino thought to himself. That wasn’t possible. Unless…

“Do… do you want me to see you that way?” As soon as he asked the question, Savino wished he hadn’t. He immediately expected Alfred to laugh and tell him he was being ridiculous, but instead, Alfred sniffled and rubbed at his eyes.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you,” Alfred confessed quietly. “I figured, what was the point? It’s not like I have any clue what I’m doing when it comes to this stuff. I never even liked anybody before you, much less kissed anyone or gone on a date. You could have anyone at this school, except for the lesbians and straight guys. Why the hell would you want a dumbass like me?”

Savino sat back down on the couch. “You’re not a dumbass. At least not because you’re inexperienced and feel like you don’t know what you’re doing. Everyone feels like that sometimes. But you are a dumbass for thinking that you not having a relationship before would make me not want to be with you.”

Alfred smiled weakly. “You don’t have to be nice to make me feel better. I wasn’t expecting you to feel the same way.”

“I’m not being nice! I’m not a fucking nice person! I’m trying to tell you that I like you too! I jumped away when I thought you were gonna kiss me only because I couldn’t take you kissing me when it wouldn’t have meant anything!” It probably wasn’t fair for him to explode on Alfred like that, but, God, Savino was so frustrated.

“Oh.” Alfred grinned for real this time, completely unfazed by the fact his friend had just been yelling at him. “Really?”

Savino nodded. “Yes.”

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting this to happen.” Alfred blushed and fidgeted with his hands, uncharacteristically shy. “If I had kissed you, it would’ve meant something to me. Not just because it would’ve been my first, but because it’s you. You’re really special to me, Vinny.”

“You—you’re really special to me too, caro.” Savino was nowhere near as suave as he would normally be in this kind of situation. He had more romantic experience than Alfred, but when he was around his best friend, he felt like a little kid experiencing a crush for the first time.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you now? I mean, we don’t have to, but I really want to.”

“I want that too.”

“Awesome.” Alfred started to lean down towards him, and Savino’s eyes fell shut in anticipation.

Alfred obviously wasn’t an experienced kisser. He started very hesitantly, at least until Savino began to reciprocate. Then, he pressed his lips into Savino’s in a clumsy, overeager way that made Savino’s heart soar. When Savino attempted to deepen the kiss, Alfred tried to do the same thing, and their teeth knocked together.

Savino pulled away with a pained grimace. “Ow.”

Alfred winced. “Sorry. But uh, before I hurt your teeth, was I any good?”

“You were amazing,” Savino answered honestly. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself so much.”

“You were amazing too. I mean, I knew it would probably feel good, but I didn’t know it would feel like that. My mouth felt super tingly, and my heart was beating so fast I thought I was gonna pass out. Getting to kiss you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Savino was flattered by Alfred’s effusive, unprompted praise. “Grazie. Um, if I kiss you again, do you think you can stay relatively still?”

“I can try.” That was a good enough answer for Savino, and he leaned up to initiate a second kiss.

This time, Alfred kept his head still enough to prevent any more teeth-related accidents. But the way he moaned into the kiss wasn’t remotely saint-like, and neither was the way he buried his hand in Savino’s curls. Savino certainly wasn’t a saint himself.

When he needed to breathe, Savino reluctantly ended the kiss and laid a gentle peck on Alfred’s lips before shifting back on the couch. Alfred blinked at him dazedly, and his kiss-swollen lips stretched into a goofy grin.

“Damn, Savi. I was really excited about holding your hand earlier, but kissing you was way more intense than the holy palmer’s kiss thing Juliet talked about. Way, way more intense.”

Savino snorted. “Speaking of the play, do you still need to rehearse your lines?”

“Nah, I think I’m good. But if we go back to my dorm room, maybe we can rehearse the kissing thing some more.” Alfred winked in a cheesy, incredibly ridiculous manner. Part of Savino felt amused, but mostly he felt warm all over.

“What about your brother?” It would be incredibly awkward if Matthew was there when they got to Alfred’s dorm room.

“Mattie’s got hockey practice today, so he won’t be back for hours. We should get plenty of time alone.”

Savino helped Alfred find the script book he had dropped earlier, and he took the hand Alfred extended towards him as they left the student lounge. Alfred hummed to himself with a content expression on his face as they left the building and started heading back towards the student dorms.

“You look really happy,” Savino remarked softly.

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m with you. Wait, I am with you, right?”

Savino squeezed Alfred’s hand before he could start to doubt how Savino felt about him. “Don’t worry, you are.” They might not have defined what their relationship was yet, but Savino was willing to be with Alfred in whatever way he wanted.

“Then I’m happy that I’m with the hottest guy in the world. I bet all the people around me are super jealous right now.”

Savino wasn’t paying much attention to the other students walking around in the quad, but he doubted they were all jealous of Alfred. Many were probably confused or curious, and others were certainly jealous of Savino right now.

Savino smirked smugly at a girl who looked irritated when she spotted them together and leaned into Alfred’s side. “I think they’re jealous of both of us, tesoro. They have good reason to be. And for the record, I’m happy too.”

#hetaliancupid #hetalia #romerica #hws america #hws romano #hws south italy #aph america #aph romano #aph south italy #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #hetalia high school au #hws fanfic #hws fanfiction #aph fanfic #aph fanfiction #original post #my writing

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

Don’t Look Back [Request]

→ summary: It’s friends with benefits and no strings attached—the strings are burned and the ashes are swept and hurled into the sea where all evidence of love drowns in the depth of the waters.

→ pairing/rating: seokjin x reader | PG-15

→ genre: angst | mafia!au

→ warnings: gun usage, gunshot wounds, blood, pain, mentions of sex and multiple partners, profanity

→ wordcount: 2k

→ a/n: my first request! i may or may not have cried writing this fsdfsdl let’s see if i’m just an emotional bitch or if this is aCTUALLY tear-worthy

♫: Once Again by Mad Clown & Kim Na Young

cr.

This, this is your end. Though you would never admit it out loud. Nor would Seokjin as he, with trembling hands, struggles to locate where the bullet had penetrated your skin and lodged itself painfully into your leg. You hiss sharply when he grazes over the gushing wound. It's impossible to see the scarlet-red blood gushing out—it's too dark out at night. But you can feel the viscous wetness of it pour out of the gash, continuously. There is no promise of it stopping any time soon.

The harsh sound of gunshots ricochets off the suffocating night air behind you and Seokjin. He's scared too, but he would never admit it. You're struggling to breathe; to you, your panting is louder than the thunderous bullets flying through the air.

"You'll be alright," Seokjin whispers so quietly that you barely hear him over the guns in the distance. "I'll get you out of here." He presses his hand against your bullet-wound on your thigh, attempting to stop the steady flow of blood. But it's no use. And when you start to whimper, clawing at his hands to stop him, he's left with no other choice but to pull away.

"You can't do this, Jin..." you whisper. "You have to go... You have to leave me."

"Seokjin! Get the hell over here!" Jimin yells. He's ahead of the two of you, already running off from the murderous scene. "Come on!"

It had been an unexpected ambush. A mission failure before the mission even really began.

"I'm hurt like you, Y/N," Seokjin says urgently. "I have to stay. I'm not leaving you."

Tears sting your eyes as you bite your lip to transfer the pain in your leg to somewhere else. "You got nicked on the arm, Jin," you say as your hand reaches up to touch the sleeve of his jacket—a bullet had scathed his skin just barely, but it had left a hole in the cloth. Your hand falls limply to your side as you cast your head down, watching the black blood ooze out of your wound. The puddle underneath you begins to creep down towards the rest of your leg, soaking your jeans with blood. "Seokjin... I can't even walk."

"No..." Seokjin whispers. "No, Y/N..."

He watches as your eyes flutter as if you would slip from consciousness at any moment—as if you were fighting to hold in the torturous agony.

It's nearly midnight and it's pitch black outside, the darkness had made it easier for the enemies to attack. And now the dark tenebrosity was the only thing keeping you and Seokjin from being shot. They couldn't see you now.

But you've always been afraid of the dark. Even when Seokjin first met you. It was strange. You were a fierce and independent woman—the only woman to enlist a career as a hitman. You did not demand respect but you earned it from every male in the hitman crew the moment you walked in and bulls-eyed every single target in your path. You were the type of woman who didn't need any man to hold open the door for you. You'd be the one to open the door yourself and slam it shut in their faces. You didn't flinch at the sight of bloodbaths, either—after all, it was part of your job to make others shed blood before your eyes. It was a part of you to watch people die.

Yet behind that serious façade was a girl who was still afraid of the dark. The girl who insisted on having the lights on during sex because the gloom of a black room scared her. The girl who would grit her teeth and momentarily ignore her intense phobia when she was forced by her Boss to take on missions at the devil's hour—the tense dead of the night. You were a girl who liked soft kisses over heavy making out; a girl who loved making love over fucking; a girl who loved praise and whispers of sweet endearments rather than name-calling and degradation. A girl who would never leave anyone behind because—even though you never admitted it—the hitmen were like a family to you. You were—are—a girl who would fight to your last breath to keep everyone on the same page.

Seokjin's heart shatters into pieces when he sees your exterior had broken down. You're crying, sweating, hair in a frenzied mess and bloodstains on your face. You shake so hard in his arms that he feels cold.

"G-Go," you keep pleading at him. "Leave."

Again and again, he shakes his head, refusing to leave you. The others are yelling at him too, but Seokjin can hear nothing but you. He wishes it weren't night. He wishes he could see your face. He wishes it were morning so you had one less thing to be afraid of. Most of all, he wishes he had more time. After all, he never even got to tell you that he loves you.

Love is never good in this type of business. It's always friends with benefits and no strings attached—the strings are burned and the ashes are swept and hurled into the sea where all evidence of love and care drown in the depth of the waters. You've probably fucked every single damn hitman under your current Boss. But Seokjin's the one you keep coming back to. Because with him, you feel appreciated, welcomed, cared for, loved. And not used.

He's loved you for five years, but he couldn't tell you. Nothing was worth ruining your friendship and maintaining a business-like exterior. You were his closest friend out of the hitmen. Though his loyalties shifted every time he worked for a new boss, his loyalty stayed with you. Seokjin knows everything about you.

You love reading cheesy romance novels in the morning while consuming too-salty hotdog sausages and drinking mixed berry smoothies with extra sugar and ice. You love having your lamp on by your bedside before you turn off the lights in your room to go to sleep—so it wouldn't be completely dark when you snuggle under your covers. You love, absolutely love cats and you've always wanted one. Seokjin was going to buy a kitten for you too, but that's all in the past now...

"Jin..." you breathe shakily. "You have to go."

"I can't leave you."

You push him away, gritting your teeth when your leg shifts position. "Yes, you fucking can, you bastard. I'm fine!" you yell over the shooting in the background. "Move before I make you." You're trying to sound intimidating, but there's a tremor to your voice that Seokjin can't ignore; your eyes are watery from the pain, the fear—Seokjin doesn't know—and there are wet streaks running down your cheeks.

"You can barely walk," he answers. "Get on my back. I'll carry you, then."

"What the fuck, Kim! Hurry up before we all get killed!" Jimin yells at him again.

Seokjin ignores him, peering into your eyes to convince you, somehow, not to give up.

"Get over here!" Namjoon shouts. "Seokjin!"

You shake your head. "Every moment that you're spending with me, you're wasting time. If you take me with you, I’ll slow you down. Jin, I'm not worth saving. Not when the risk is so high." On cue, a bullet flies past your heads, almost grazing Seokjin's ear.

"N-No," he stutters. "No, Y/N. They're gonna get you. They're gonna torture you."

You force out a mischievous grin, clenching your fists tight against your body as you keep your pain to yourself. "I'm a good liar. I'll say I'm not part of the gang. Here," you say, handing Seokjin your handgun and dagger from your boot. "Take my weapons so they don't suspect me."

"Y/N... You'll be defenseless."

"Maybe it'll make my lie sound more convincing," you argue, biting your lip. "I'm serious, Kim Seokjin. Leave." You try to push him away again. But tears spring to your eyes when your leg shifts once more. "Please..." you beg him. "Leave."

"FUCKING LEAVE HER, MAN!" someone screams in the back.

"YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DIE!"

Seokjin turns around to see the others frantically waving at him to go. He lets out a deep breath and gives you one last look before he stands.

You smile. "That's it... Just, leave me..."

But your voice is so quiet, he can't hear you over the gunshots that are heightening in volume as the seconds fly past.

You mouth something to him—so softly, so delicately that he misses it.

"What?" he says.

Your lips repeat the motion, but the sound does not come out. Your eyes are bloodshot, and your head begins to lull to the side. Still, you repeat the inaudible phrase over and over again until the motion of your lips is ingrained in Seokjin's mind. He will never be able to kiss them again.

"W-What?" he tries again, but it's no use. Someone's got a strong grip on his arm, and Seokjin feels himself being tugged away from you.

He never breaks eye contact. It's so dark that even though he's only a few feet away from you, he can't see your face; but he can hear you cry loudly.

"GO!" you suddenly shriek. Your voice sounds ragged in the edges, stern but so full of misery and pain. "DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING LOOK BACK!"

Seokjin nods. He nods at the barely-visible figure that you've become. His hands, clothes are drenched in your blood. He can't remember the last time he's seen your face in the light. When was the last time you'd kissed him during sex? When was the last time Seokjin dreamed that one day, you and he would break the oath and leave the mafia for good? When was the last time he fantasized that he'd confess his love for you and then you would scream happily and tell him you love him too? He can't remember anything except for the last movements of your thin, cracked lips, whispering the same phrase over and over again.

After hesitating and Jimin urgently dragging him away, Seokjin finally turns his back to you, letting out a shaky breath. He was never supposed to abandon you. He feels the urge to look back—at least see your face one last time. But it's no use. It's too dark.

He closes his eyes, his legs moving against his will as he lets his friend take him away from the scene.

You would've stayed with him if it were Seokjin who was bleeding to death. But he's selfish because he'd listened to you—it's too late now. If he turns back at this moment, he'll be shot dead before he can even get near you.

His eyes sting from tears, but he keeps them shut. In the pitch-black darkness beneath his eyelids, he can visualize your face—though blurry in the dark. He can see your lips; he watches as they move, repeating the inaudible phrase over and over again.

Suddenly, it clicks.

He almost chokes on the night air; being alive has never felt more torturous.

You'd told him you love him.

I love you, you'd said over and over again. I love you. I love you. I love you.

You love him.

And he was never able to give you the relief you deserved by saying it back. Seokjin bites his lips so hard he can taste blood. The wound in his arm hurts less than the pain in his heart. You're going to leave this world without knowing that he loves you.

That all the times he'd kissed you in bed, he'd meant it. That he wasn't just being nice when he checked up on your health in the middle of the night and helped you with target practice at the break of dawn. That he was supposed to confess to you.

But you'd done it first.

Tears flood down his face as he sobs. But no matter how urgently his heart tells him to turn around, he can't. He won't look back.

He can't. Not when guilt consumes his body and eats away at his mind.

He loves you, and you had loved him back. But it's too late now. You're dead. And Seokjin won’t look back.

masterlist

#ficswithluv #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #request #seokjin #jin #seokjin imagine #seokjin fanfic #seokjin angst #bts #bts fanfiction #Don’t Look Back #don't look back

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crackheadh0urr · 4 years

Text

Puppy (Audrey Rose x AK/VK!Daughter of Maleficent and King Stefan)

(If you've seen the 2014 Maleficent, you'll get where I got Stefan from)

As Audrey walked throught Jane's party, Adriene couldn't help but notice how much finer she looked as a villain. She and Audrey have always had a rocky relationship. One minute, they're cool. The next, their at each other's throat. It might have had something to do with Adriene being half AK, half VK. Audrey hated it, but at the same time, she knew Adriene was a good friend to her. As Audrey was about to cast a spell, Adriene slowly walks up to her, "Whoa! Whoa." She laughs nervously, her semi deep voice catching the attention of the magenta haired girl, "Ya know, um. You think you might need a um sidekick? A companion?" Adriene says while still walking up to Audrey who just glares at her with a slight smirk and a raised eyebrow, "A loyal best friend? Hell, even an errand girl?" Adriene asks with a lip bite. Audrey hums followed by an evil laugh, "Hm, maybe I do. But, why should I give that position to you?" She asks in a baby voice, batting her eyelashes. Adriene chuckles slightly, "I um... Maybe, not trying to be rude, I'm one of the ONLY people that can put up with you," She starts making Maleficent's staff gem glow, "A-And, don't want you to be lonely. I can also provide a lil extra protection." The curly afro-haired girl says. Audrey laughs, "What protection?" She asks. Adriene walks up to her and touches the staff making her eyes glow an eerie greenish yellow, "I am part Maleficent." She whispers as her lips ghosted Audrey. The shorter girl let out a shaky sigh, "You... You could be useful. Get behind me." She says plainly making Adriene nod rapidly and stand behind her.

"Happy birthday, to you..." Audrey sings as pink dust appears making a bunch of people fall asleep, "Happy birthday, to you..." More people fall. Jane looks around, desperately trying to find a place to hide, "Happy birthday... To you..." Audrey finishes. Unbeknownst to her, Jane dived into the enchanted lake as pink clouds appear to take both Audrey and Adriene away and hide them somewhere safe.

~~~

Uma flips through Audrey's diary with furrowed eyebrows, "You fucked up her life completely, Mal." She laughs out making Mal glare at Uma. The green haired girl laughs again, "But, you also made it better in a way..." She replies catching everyone's attention, "What do you mean?" Celia Facilier asks with curious eyes. Uma shakes her head, "Seems as though Ms. Goody Goody is bisexual." She replies making the group of VKs gasp, "Really?" Carlos asks. Uma nods, "She said, and I quote, Mal took everything from me. My future, my crown, my Benny-boo. But, there's someone that made me forget all of that. It's like I hate her, but I like her," Mal's eyes widened as she muttered something making Carlos and Evie shush her, "I admit, I started off disliking her when she came from the isle and when Mal took Ben from me, I started to eventually hate her because of what another VK did. Unfortunately and fortunately, she kept following me like a lost puppy. She kept trying to cheer me up. Make me understand that what her Mal did was not her fault. Her persistance and flirty nature made me unconsciously grow to like her as a good friend, considering she put up with a lot of my bullshit," Uma continues, evntually making all of the VKs sit around her as she read,

"When she hugged me, I just wanted us to stay like that. She's a little bit taller than me which I hated because she always made fun of my height. In such little time, she put so much admiration and love in my heart for her. She made me feel a lot of things Ben never made me feel. She even complimented me all the time and I would blush because she would give me a certain look when she said something about me that she loved. I hated feeling this way for a girl. My grandma would never accept it... So, I pushed her away. I picked fights with her just to get her away from me. It hurt me so bad because she was the only person who really tried to become my friend. She put up with my mood swings and constant complaining.

The only thing about my situation is that she saw right through me. She knew that I didn't want to push her away. But, she didn't know the reason. Just like that, I went from the Audrey she knew to the Audrey everyone hated. And I started to treat her as I treated everyone else." Uma finishes. Jay was in shock, "So, let me get this straight. Audrey likes a VK, but she's afraid of what her grandmother might say so she pushes her away. Who is this mysterious girl?" He asks. Uma flips back a few pages, "Right here." She says,

"I feel as if my world is crashing. Nobody but me knows that Mal gave Ben a love potion cookie. Ben and I were destined to be together... At least that's what my grandmother and parents say. Why did I let some VK take my whole life? I can't bare to take anymore mental abuse from them. Why me? There's one girl though. A VK and AK mix. I hate her with a burning passion, but she makes me oddly happy. Do I really hate her? She was there for me the exact same time Mal potioned Ben. I should know, because I sat next to her and she kept whispering sweet things into my ear. Who is she and who gave her the right to make me blush? The words she said to me were enough to block out any mental abuse my family dished out. She voice was smooth yet raspy. It was feminine with a hint of deepness.

She kept complimenting me on little things she noticed that I didn't know. I was gonna accuse her of being a stalker, but reality hit me hard before I could. Ben never really took time to notice any little details about me. But, this random girl, this VK took the time to point out stuff that I didn't notice about me. Instead of yelling at her or being bitchy like I usually was, I just smiled. A flashed a real smile and took in all of her compliments. The girl was honestly stunning. She had curly orangeish blonde hair that was black as you skimmed it. Her skin was relatively tan and she had tattoos littered all around her body which made her look a little more sexy in my eyes. What made me confused is that she looked so bad ass, but when she smiled, her face became more baby like. It was adorable. And god knows I can't forget those eyes. Her greenish eyes.

Her name is Adriene. And I think I might've made a new friend. One of my first true friends." Uma reads and gasps when she sees the picture. Mal looks at Uma, "Well, what is it?!" She asks impatiently. The dark skin girl turns the book around, "Is-... Isn't that your younger sister, Adriene?" Carlos asks,

Mal's hands slowly formed a fist, "So, you mean to tell me... Audrey has a crush on MY sister...?" She asks through gritted teeth. Uma nods while looking at the purple haired girl. Evie nods her head, "Maybe, just maybe... I have an idea..." She says softly.

~~~

Audrey sighs softly and sits down on a couch while staring Adriene down. Adriene grins, "Ya need anything, princess?" She asks. Audrey scowls, "It's Queen to you!" She snaps. Adriene raises her hands in defense, "Ight ight, My Queen." She says in a certain tone making Audrey turn red and blast her with the sceptre. Adriene clutches her arm, "OW! What the hell?!" She asks Audrey with a slight glare. The magenta hair girl glares back, "Stop being cute!" She says with an eyeroll as she sees a wide smile form on Adriene's face, "Or what?" She asks while tilting her head. Audrey glares making Adriene sulk, “Fine fine, i’ll stop.” She says, mumbling a couple of profanities afterwards. Audrey stood up and walked over to Adriene slowly. The curly haired girl tilts her head. She was about to voice her confusion until Audrey placed her head and right hand on Adriene’s chest. Something Audrey would usually do when she’s mad, upset, or needs comfort.

Adriene didn’t question Audrey. All she did was wrap her arms around Audrey’s waist, “I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but it’s gonna be okay, Drey.” Adriene says softly. Audrey grips the taller girl’s shirt, “Promise?” She whisper asks. Adriene shook her head, “I can’t promise you that, but I can promise you this... I’m going to protect you no matter the cost. Don’t worry, lil mama.” She reassures making Audrey nod. Adriene kisses Audrey’s forehead, “I’ll be back.” She says and walks towards the front door. Audrey stops her with the sceptre, “And where are you going?” She asks. Adriene chuckles, “Calm down, queen. I’m bout to start a fire. For some reason, i’m craving smores.” She answers truthfully. Audrey furrows her eyebrows before letting her leave.

it’s been almost an hour since Adriene left and Audrey started to visibly get worried. The magenta haired girl checked her sceptre and instantly got angry,

“So, you left us to be with Audrey?!” Mal shouts in a tied up Adriene’s face. Adriene had a deep scowl present on her face, “Yeah, I did. And i’d do it over and over again, bastard child.” Adriene spat calmly earning a hard backhand against the face. Adriene’s spat out blood and a tooth as Mal hit her real hard, “IF YOU ARE LISTENING AUDREY, GIVE US THE STAFF OR ADRIENE GETS IT!” Mal shouts.

Audrey breathing became heavy and her eyes teared up “Adriene...” She whimpers,

“DON’T LISTEN TO HER, AUDREY! IT’S A FUCKING TRAP! I CAN HOLD MY OWN, BAE, KEEP THE SCEPTRE!” Adriene shouts earning another smack from Jay this time, “Shut up, bitch!” He shout. Blood ran down Adriene’s chin as she struggled to get up.

Audrey balls up her fist, “NO!” She screetches and disappears.

#descendants #Audrey Rose #audrey rose x reader #gxg imagine #gxglesbianlgbt #gxg

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bookaddict19 · 4 years

Text

Sleeping with the Enemy (Part 2) | Fred Weasley x Reader

Rating: Mature...eventually. I don’t know.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! Thank you all for the support that I received from the first part of this fic. If you haven’t Part 1, I will post a link below. Part 2 is a little bit longer than the first one, so I’m sorry about that. No hate, please. But if you like it, let me know and I will continue adding to it.

PART 1

Y/N stretched out on her back. Her dark head rested on Draco’s chest while her bare feet brushed the sun-soaked grass that surrounded their picnic blanket like the sea surrounds a distant island. She had left her sunglasses inside and was attempting to shield her eyes from the sun’s glistening rays with the pages of her book. Draco, as usual, had found himself unable to stay even remotely still or quiet. During the past hour, he alternated between playing with Y/N’s hair, talking (mostly to himself) about the day’s upcoming Quidditch match, and doodling what Y/N could only assume was Potter’s name over and over again in the dirt.

“I wonder what he looks like without his glasses,” Draco said as he twirled a piece of her hair.

“Who?” Y/N asked annoyed. She was sure she knew who he was referring too but was highly irritated that he was interrupting her reading to ask her daft questions.

“Who do you think” he sneered jokingly.

“I’m going to go out on a limb,” she paused thinking. Her stalling was getting on his nerves and she knew it. Y/N smiled. “…and say probably like Harry Potter…but without glasses”

“You’re impossible,” he laughed as he fell back onto the blanket and started drawing in the grass again. She had always loved the sound of his laugh. It was rare and musical, so very different from the false barking sound he made when he told a nasty joke or made a cruel comment.

“That’s me,” she smiled sarcastically, returning to her reading. “Miss Impossible.” They quieted for a few minutes, each content in their own endeavor.

“If Ned Stark dies, I swear to Merlin, I will go back to America if only to hunt down this sadistic writer and turn him into a dung beetle,” Y/N mumbled to herself as she turned the page; the motion causing the sun to momentarily pierce her eyes. Draco wasn’t listening. She sighed and closed the book in order to sit up and face him. His smile had faded. “What are you doing?” she rolled her eyes at him. Slowly, the pale-headed boy pulled his eyes away from his drawings in the dirt to find hers.

“I think that I have earned the right to wallow in self-pity for a bit,” he stated placidly. Y/N put her hand on his cheek as she had done just hours before and thought back to the events of last night.

***

Y/N had awoken, still wrapped in Draco’s arms, to a searing pain in her left forearm. She struggled to her feet; sleep still attempting to pull her back into it’s dark embrace. She turned to find Draco doubled-over on his side, his face strained in pain. Something’s wrong, she thought, her breath coming in short gasps. “Really? Didn’t notice,” Draco groaned, his face pressed against the pillows of couch. She didn’t realize she had spoken aloud. The pain of the mark and the drowsiness from her lack of sleep had her mind swimming in a pool of confusion. Her senses were overloading. She couldn’t breathe. Somewhere in her murky waters of her mind she heard something crash to the floor. Draco had fallen off of his place on the couch, beads of sweat dripped from the side of his head and onto the carpet. She couldn’t see his face.

As Y/N made her way to Draco’s side, she struggled to get her breathing under control. She collapsed. The left side of her body cried out in pain as she crawled towards him. What to do? What to do? What to do? The words ran through her mind in a continuous fashion that made them lose all meaning. She was almost to him when she suddenly cried out. It seemed that Draco’s glass from their previous night of drinking had crashed to floor with him and shattered into pieces. Her stomach turned as her gaze found her mangled hand. Blood and bits of glass protruded from the wound. Black dots filled her vision as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She took a deep breath. The left side of her body had become completely immobile. Her Dark Mark continued to pulse with pain and, a few inches below it, her injured hand stung with the slightest of movement. As her blood dripped to the floor, her vision came back into focus. Blood, she thought dully. What had Dumbledore told her about blood?

Her scattered mind thought back to a conversation that seemed a lifetime ago. “Blood is power,” he said, his wizened voiced crackled like the hearth before them. “Blood is life and death. Something that binds us to our ancestry and our progeny…it’s no surprise that many of our kind believe it to be the source of our magic and something to be revered.”

Blood, she thought again as she reached Draco. She moved her right hand to her injured one; the crimson liquid felt warm to her touch. Symbols flashed in her mind. Ancient drawings, long forgotten, from archaic grimoires passed down from a time before wands became the new fashion. As her fingers became her quill and her blood became her ink, Y/N began to draw the symbols that now flashed before her eyes onto her arm, just above the Dark Mark. As the pain began to subside, she turned her attention to Draco. After repeating the ritual, Y/N slump on her side; her head resting on Draco’s shoulder. His color was coming back.

“He’s angry,” Draco whispered, his breath rustled her hair as he spoke. She whimpered in pain. Her hand was still bleeding. She was weak and felt as though she had used more magic in the last few hours than she had since she had come back to Britain. “It’s okay,” Draco soothed. It wasn’t. As he reached for his wand in order to mend her hand, her fingers found his cheek. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

***

“And speaking of self-pity,” Draco muttered under his breath, pulling her out of her reprieve. Y/N followed his eyes. Potter, Granger, and Weasley were making their way across the grounds; their heads bent in deep conversation. When the trio neared the entryway to the castle, they stopped and sat down on the grass. Potter moved to rest his hand on Weasley’s shoulder. Y/N felt Draco tense beside her. Something seemed to be wrong. Weasley’s freckled face was wet, his nose dripped dribble onto his shirt. He certainly was not a pretty crier, Y/N thought to herself. Draco made a move to get up. Apparently, gawking at Potter was not on today’s agenda.

“Come on,” he said as he made to pull the picnic blanket out from up under her. “We’re leaving.”

“Hey! I’m not finished with my book,” she screeched at him as she tumbled onto the grass. “Get up,” he commanded and pulled her to her feet. Y/N grabbed her book off the ground and began to brush the grass from her dark clothes, muttering curses under her breath. As they made their way to the castle, Y/N struggled to keep up with Draco’s long strides. She was panting from having to almost jog to stay at his heels.

“Slow down, you git,” Y/N called out to him. She tripped. As she brought herself to her feet, a slew of profanities on her lips, she came face-to-face with Potter, Weasley, and Granger.

“Potter,” she nodded awkwardly. “Fancy meeting you here.” She made a move to leave. Weasley was attempting to wipe the tears and dribble from his face. Besides the flaming hair, Y/N could hardly believe that him and the twins were related. Ron’s face was babyish and spotted where Fred’s had been smooth and chiseled, with only the dusting of freckles to mark it. The thought of Fred made her palms start to sweat and her heart beat a bit faster. She turned and found herself facing a very displeased Draco Malfoy.

“Potter,” he said, looking over Y/N’s shoulder and into the dark-haired boy’s green eyes.

“Malfoy,” Potter replied.

“Black,” Y/N mumbled, feeling left out. Draco looked at her, a highly exasperated expression on his face.

“We were just leaving,” Draco muttered. He grabbed Y/N’s arm and attempted to pull her away.

“Death Eater dealings to tend too, I presume,” Weasley said, his voice cracking. He was no longer crying. His face flushed red with anger. And here we go, Y/N thought. Draco was the first to lunge, wand completely forgotten. He crashed into Weasley. Punches were being tossed around by both boys, the majority of them failing to connect. Draco grabbed Weasley by the neck and pinned him to the ground. Potter, seeing Weasley’s distressed, kicked Draco in the ribs causing him to cry out.

“Excuse me, Granger,” Y/N said, pushing the bushy-haired girl out of the way. She jumped onto Potter’s back and sent the both of them tumbling to the ground. The next few minutes were filled with elbows and fists, punches and kicks until a harsh Scottish voice yelled, “THAT IS ENOUGH.” McGonagall marched over as the brawlers broke apart. Granger began tending to Potter and Weasley’s wounds as Y/N examined Draco’s blackening eye. “Well, that was fun while it lasted,” she smirked.

“In all my years,” McGonagall shrieked as the pair pulled themselves to their feet. “Detention. Immediately. All of you, go! And 50 points each will be taken from both of your houses.”

Next to her, Draco had paled. “But, professor,” he started. “Slytherin’s match starts in an hour! If I could just–” “Absolutely not, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall stated firmly. “You should of thought of that before you started brawling like common miscreants.” Draco quieted. His dark gray eyes burned like embers as he watched a smirk form on Potter and Weasley’s faces.

Hours later, the Slytherin common room was filled with streams of slightly-inebriated students swaying to the beat of the Weird Sisters’ latest album. Draco, who had been in a sour mood since the fight (and subsequent detention), had orchestrated what Y/N could only describe as a night of pure debauchee in an attempt to atone for missing the match. Despite lacking their seeker, the Slytherin team had managed (probably through a great deal of cheating) to beat Hufflepuff and Draco was desperate to make everyone forget that he wasn’t there help. He was doing a good job, Y/N thought to herself as she sipped her butterbeer and watched as Pansy Parkinson led a Hufflepuff boy up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. Y/N sat at the edge of the festivities, careful not to get too close to the action. In spite of the cheer in the room, a gloom had begun to settle over her like a dark shadow.

“What are you doing?” Draco said as he sat down next to her; a smile played on his lips as he admired his handywork. Clearly, he was feeling better, Y/N thought as she watched him sway drunkenly. The party was in full swing. Butterbeer had been passed out to anyone who didn’t already have a drink in their hand, and someone had snuck down to the kitchens because biscuits and cauldron cakes now littered the counters. The room was filled with the sounds of music and laughter as students danced to the melody. A Ravenclaw girl and a Slytherin boy were making out on one of the nearby couches. Y/N was worried if he stuck his tongue any farther down her throat then he would accidently swallow her.

“Self-medicating,” Y/N answered, waving her glass in his face. He rolled his eyes. She forced a smile at his exasperation and began to scan the crowd again. A flash of flaming red hair caught her attention. Her breath caught in throat as she attempted to zero in on the source but whoever it was had quickly faded back into the crowd. Y/N tried squash the feeling of disappointment that bloomed in her chest. She had not seen Fred Weasley since the night before but he had rarely left her thoughts since then. There was something about being clustered together in the dark stairwell as magic sparked around them that made the experience hard to forget. Not that they had much contact in the past. She had always found him and his twin quite amusing. Their thirst for chaos seemed to almost mimic her own at times. But she had never spoke much to either of them and both had a deep mistrust of Slytherins.

“You know, you turn into a terrible bore when you get in one of your moods,” Draco muttered, bringing her attention back to the present. “Do you even remember what fun looks like,” He pointed at a tawny-haired Ravenclaw boy who was dancing nearby. The boy turned, raised his glass to them and smiled. “Because that is fun.”

“I don’t particularly like blondes,” Y/N mumbled, a real smile had begun to form on her lips as she ruffled Draco’s pale hair. “Besides, I think he’s more your type than mine.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Draco said with a disappointed sigh. “He’s good friends with Hannah Abbott. She’s here somewhere. Forgive me if I don’t want to get hexed again by that little minx.” His eyes darted around. “I don’t know why she hates me so much,” he mused to himself.

Y/N laughed. “Well, you did shag her in one of the Quidditch locker rooms and never talked to her again.”

“No, I shagged her brother in one of the Quidditch locker rooms,” Draco corrected. “I kissed her at Warrington’s back-to-school party last term and…okay, I see your point.” Y/N snickered again. “I’ll keep an eye out for Hannah if you want to try your luck,” she offered as she nodded to the Ravenclaw boy.

“I love you,” Draco smirked devilishly. He kissed her forehead before making his way over to the boy. “I know,” she replied softly but he was already too far away to hear. As Y/N made her way through the crowd, she kept an eye out for Hannah. Y/N didn’t think that Hannah would make a scene in the middle of the Slytherin common room but Draco did have an affinity for falling for the crazy ones. Take Potter for example, Y/N thought to herself. She didn’t know what he saw in the scar-faced wizard besides the fact that he was totally and completely off limits. But maybe that was part of the appeal, she mused as her thoughts began to wander back to Fred. She got another drink. It was her third…no fourth…no…did it really matter? It was only butterbeer. She smiled to herself. As the warm liquid burned in her throat, the gloom that had settled in her chest was starting to fade again.

A flicker of red caught her eye again. She turned and came face-to-face with a pair of stormy blue eyes. Her smile faded as her eyes instinctively searched the room for Draco. If he found at about last night…she would most definitely have some explaining to do. She grabbed Fred’s hand and quickly led him out of the common room, stepping on a few partiers’ feet in the process. “If your back for seconds, dear Weasley, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you,” she said rather sarcastically. Once she reached the hall, she turned and looked at him. For a moment, they stood there, not quite close enough to touch. Y/N could hear the sounds of the laughter and music echoing in the hallway of the dungeons. She tore her gaze away from Fred’s to scan the scene for the eyes of prying professors or drunk partygoers. She knew that the underage drinking, premarital sex, and who knows what else Draco had planned for the night, would likely be received with the same sentiment from the Hogwarts staff as the less than traditional magic she had performed the night before.

After assuring herself that the coast was clear, she returned her attention to Fred. Her spell had worked wonders, if she did say so herself. Fred stood before her, a picture of health. His crimson hair glittered in the torchlight; the fine golden strands that were mixed in with the red becoming more pronounced. His blue eyes were dark with determination as he wiped the sweat from his brow. As his cheeks flushed with color, she watched the way his pale arm, strengthen from years exertion from grueling Quidditch matches, brought his hand to rest on the back of his neck. She remembered how that hand had felt in hers just only last night, when they sat huddled together in the darkness as magic filled the corridor.

“I…,” He searched her eyes, pleading. “I need a favor.”

Her eyes hardened as an involuntary, almost manic laugh escaped her lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Please,” he begged. “It’s George. He’s not getting better. He’s in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey insists that there is nothing to be done except wait…they’ve sent an owl to my parents...something about the curse reaching his bloodstream…” he faltered.

Her heart immediately went out to him. Umbridge must have spelled these quills under a blood moon for their magic to be so potent. If the curse had made it to George’s bloodstream then it wouldn’t be much longer. He most likely had only a few days, a week at most, left before his poison reached his brain. Even then, it wouldn’t be a peaceful death. Y/N briefly wondered how Umbridge would explain such a thing to the Ministry but had no doubt that somehow, some way, she would be able to do so. Fred was still watching Y/N’s face as if she were a locked box that he had been told not to open but he was desperate to find a way in. He stood there asking a girl, who most would view as his enemy, for help. However, despite his distress, there were no tears in his eyes. Just stony resolve. If that wasn’t the bravery of a lionheart, she didn’t know what was. Nevertheless, she couldn’t risk her mission, her life, or, even worse, Draco’s life to play nurse to the Weasley twins. She was here for one purpose and that purpose was likely to her killed at best and a whole bunch of others killed at worse. She knew what she had to do, even if she didn’t like it.

Y/N plastered a haughty, fake smile to her face despite not being able to meet his eyes. “I’m going to with no…but thanks. Your faith in my abilities is very flattering,” she responded curtly. She started again, intending to walk past him and back into the common room, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. She bristled, caught off guard. With a twitch of her free hand, she sent a shock through Fred that had him scrambling backwards. Y/N took this opportunity to escape, making it halfway down the hall before Fred’s words halted her progress.

“What if it was Malfoy?” Fred yelled at her. She turned to look at him. Her breath came in rushed gasps. She was losing control. “What?” she breathed. “Draco, I mean,” Fred started again. “What if Umbridge had hurt Draco? What if it were him in the hospital wing right now?” he finished.

She started towards him, her hands crackling with magic. “I would personally burn that human Pepto-Bismol bottle at the stake before I’d let her touch hair on his head,” she spat. To Fred’s credit, he didn’t flinch away. He simply looked at her, the determination that she had admired just minutes before remained in his darkening eyes. There was something else there too. A fierce loyalty, a quiet desire for revenge, a need for chaos that mirrored that in her own eyes.

“Well…I was thinking of something little bit less dramatic,” he smirked. “Mum still refuses to let George and I play with matches and I’ve never been very skilled at pyrotechnic charms,” he shrugged. “Although, I wouldn’t get in your way if your wanted to try.”

She bit her lip in an attempt to keep a straight face. Her anger had disappeared as quickly as it had come on. Could he never be serious? But the tenacity in his eyes had remained constant. “Please,” he whispered again. Her eyes met his; her thoughts sobering. “Don’t make me regret this, Weasley,” she whispered back. He smiled slightly, turning on his heels as he did so to walk back in the direction of the hospital wing. It was like walking with Draco. For every step he took, Y/N had to take two. She was out of breath by the time she made it up the first landing.

It was late when Fred and Y/N arrived in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be found. From the smell of dung bombs in the air, Y/N assumed Fred had ensured that they wouldn’t be disturbed. They would have to make this quick. George was lying in the only taken bed in the room. Y/N suddenly understood why Ron was crying earlier. George was deathly pale; his chin was stained red like he had been coughing up blood. He showed no sign that he registered the pair entering the room. Fred rushed to his brother’s side and put his hand on his forehead like he was trying to take his temperature.

“You can fix him, right?” he said to her. Y/N walked to the boy’s bedside. If not for the slow, irregular movements of his chest, she would’ve thought he was already dead. This would take a lot of magic and she wasn’t quite sure that she would have enough. She also wasn’t sure why she was willing to risk it for a boy she barely knew. But one look into Fred’s pleading eyes and she had her answer. He looked at her with all the faith in the world. The only other person who had ever done that was Draco.

“I can try,” she whispered. She took George’s hand; she was conscious of Fred’s eyes on her the entire time. She took a deep breath and began to softly chant the words to the same spell that she had used the night before to heal Fred’s hand. Fred watched as lights in the room began to dim as her voice rose higher and higher. The burned smell of magic filled the air and made it hard for him to breathe. Fear filled his heart as his eyes returned to Y/N. She was pale and shaking. Blood flowed from her nose and onto her shirt as her lips whispered the words of the spell.

“Black, that’s enough,” Fred rose to his feet and made his way to her. “Stop.” He put a hand on her arm. With a flick of her spare hand, she sent Fred flying across the room. He smashed against the wall and cried out, more in shock than in pain. “I can do this,” she whispered breathlessly, pulling her eyes away from George to look at Fred. Her eyes, Fred thought. They were no longer the chocolate-colored irises that he had grown accustomed to looking for in crowds. Instead, her eyes seem to burn an unearthly gold. Fred attempted to move towards her again but the force of her magic kept him pinned to the wall. She had lost control. “I can do this,” he heard her fanatically whisper again as she returned her attention back to George and resumed the chant.

A soft, golden light flowed from her hands to George’s. The twin’s color had started to return. His chest moved at a steady rhythm as his breathing returned to normal. Just a little bit more, Y/N thought. Cuts appeared on Y/N’s wrists as her stamina began to fade. She fought the urge to cry out as black dots filled her vision. With her attention diverted, Fred attempted struggle out of his invisible bonds. And then…it was over. As the torches rose to their full stature once more, Fred felt the invisible chains that bound him fade away. Y/N rose to look at him; her eyes had returned to the same dark brown that they had been when he had met her in the Slytherin common room earlier that night. She was pale and bleeding but a triumphant, cocky smile had formed on her lips before she collapsed. Fred rushed to her side. He picked her up and laid her gingerly on the bed next to his twin’s.

“Black, are you okay?” Fred whispered as he moved her dark hair out her eyes. “Y/N…” he whispered again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered sleepily. “I lost control for a bit at the end.” She smiled like, despite the spell almost killing her, it had been a hell of a good time. Fred sighed, relieved that she was at least well enough to joke about it. He got up and began to rummage through Madam Pomfrey’s supplies in order to find something to bandage Y/N’s wounds. The pair sat in silence as Fred dressed the cuts on her wrists, neither really knew what to say.

“Freddie…” a voice from the bed beside them murmured groggily. Y/N fell back into the pillows of her hospital bed as Fred turned his attention to his brother. George looked like he was slowly waking up from a long, pleasant dream. His cheeks, which had been white as a sheet just minutes before, now flushed red as he yawned. He stretched and attempted to sit up.

“Easy, there, Sleeping Beauty,” Fred warned. “You need rest.”

George smiled drowsily. “Don’t have to tell me twice, little brother,” he mumbled as turned over on his side and began to snore softly. Fred watched him worriedly.

“He’ll be fine,” Y/N assured as she struggled back into a sitting position. “The spell took. I’m sure of it. Otherwise, it probably would have killed him,” she mused. Fred turned to look at her sharply.

“Only joking,” She attempted a smile. “Mostly,” she muttered to herself.

“Thank you,” Fred whispered. His eyes searched hers as he approached her. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or nerves that made his hands shake as he walked around his brother’s hospital bed to sit by her. “Yeah. Yeah,” she tutted, not looking at him. She felt weak and sick, but attempted to muster some of her usual sarcasm. “The next time I’m charging you, Weasley. And, believe me, you can’t afford me.”

“It’s Fred. Just Fred,” he laughed. The sound made her heart race and her foot begin to tap in a nervous gesture.

His hand rested on her arm; their faces were so close that she could feel the heat coming off of his body. Why was he always so warm? she thought as her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes moved down his face to where, even in the midst of all of this fear and pain, a ghost of a smile still played hide-and-seek on his lips. His grip tightened on her arm. The embrace was not enough to hurt her but enough to bring her back to her senses. If not for the glamour on her arm, he would be able to look down and see his fingers wrapped around her Dark Mark.

“Weasley…” she trailed off, not sure where to start or what to say. He moved closer to her; his eyes bright. His hand began to make its way from her arm to brush a dark curl out of her face. “Fred…” she whispered warningly.

“What the bloody hell is going on here,” said a panicked voice that made both Fred and Y/N jump apart. Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorway of the hospital wing clutching a bleeding arm. And he looked anything but happy.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #draco X harry #draco x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x slytherin reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #fred and goerge weasley #slytherin #slytherin reader #happy birthday fred and george

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bordeauxatdusk · 4 years

Text

Mystique (A Detroit: Become Human Fanfic) Part 1

Read the full fic (so far) on Ao3 here!

DISCLAIMER this fic is about gay android detectives in 2038. Please know that I am a BLM supporter and that I do not write in this in support of our current shitty criminal justice system.

Forget-me-nots.

The dead woman’s eyes were the same color as the flowers in her hair.

She was poised, artfully, in an elegant position that looked almost like a sculpture. Rigor mortis held her in place. The crown of forget-me-nots was integrated with an elaborate veil of white lace that fell gracefully down her back.

The bloodstained silk wedding gown she was wrapped in extended outward, rippling over the room, which was staged like a movie set; a host of antique items and classic still-life objects had been structured to frame her. Elaborate globes mingled with vases of flowers mingled with stacks of old yellowing books, covers frayed. Warm light streamed in lazily from large arcing windows, illuminating the oakwood floors of the room.

The light glinted off the pearl dagger embedded in the woman’s chest. In front of her, a gold-leafed, leather-bound edition of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet had been left open to the infamous scene:

“O, happy dagger, this is thy sheath.”

A human would undoubtedly call the scene beautiful.

To Nines, however, it was simply another murder.

He was capable of appreciating beauty, although many would be surprised to hear it. (Some people were surprised to hear that androids were capable of any abstract thought at all.)

Nines understand the concept of aesthetic value perfectly well. What he was not capable of understanding was how humans, in their love of aesthetic value, sometimes seemed to discard logic and reason.

The concept of a beautiful murder was immaterial to him. It was still murder. Whether it was committed in a wide-open oak room or in a rotting gutter made no difference.

Nines would hunt down and eliminate the murderer either way.

He was glad that Gavin felt the same, although Nines was concerned that he seemed disproportionately unnerved by something. What exactly it was, Nines couldn’t tell.

He knew that Gavin was upset partially from the rising levels of adrenaline in his scans, partially from the fact that Gavin’s pupils were dilated and he was beginning to fidget in the way he typically expressed distress (tapping his fingers together and pacing, mostly) and partially from the fact that he was increasing his profanity from its normal rate of about every one in fifteen words to every one in ten.

Nines had spent a lot of time analyzing Gavin Reed. Perhaps an irrational amount.

It hadn’t helped much.

Nines guessed that the cause of his partner’s distress must be some deeply-held psychological trauma. Humans often experienced it, and Gavin personally had suffered a difficult childhood. Whatever the reason for his distress, it must be very serious.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘ I don’t know ’, Tina?! ” his partner was currently yelling into his phone. “It’s a simple goddamn question! Do they have jalapeno poppers or not?!”

Fascinating.

Nines was well equipped to read Gavin, but very poorly equipped to understand him. The difference, he felt, was vast. He was... displeased by it. Androids were predictable, generally. Deviants much less so than non-deviants, of course, but they were still more logical than humans. At first Nines had been convinced that Gavin was simply uncomfortable expressing his emotions, but the android had begun to discover that Gavin himself was often unaware of them.

Perhaps there was some unpleasant memory jalapeno poppers evoked for his partner. He would have to ask later. Nines would have preferred to have Gavin leave the room and take a few minutes to calm down, but he had learned recently that it wasn’t an option. Apparently, Nines doing what he was designed to do and examining the physical evidence without Gavin’s interference meant he was “being a fucking know-it-all” and a “stuck-up asshole.”

“Look,” Gavin had said a few weeks ago, waving a hand dismissively to try and distract from the fact that he was clearly upset. “ It’s no big deal. Just don’t keep fucking asking me to leave in the middle of crime scenes, okay?”

Nines had been unable to see the point of this request. “ Gavin, you were clearly disgusted by the scope of the damage done to the victim.”

“Well, yeah,” Gavin had muttered sulkily, “but you don’t need to be all weird about it. Look, Nines, I want to do my job. Let me do it. Even if I’m not really helping, just let me feel like I am, okay?”

Nines had been even more confused. “ If you aren’t going to help, why are you so determined to be there? Humans aren’t exactly well-equipped for forensic analysis to begin with. I don’t hold it against you.”

It had escalated into a full-blown fight that left Nines more confused than ever until Gavin was finally able to articulate that he didn’t want to feel useless.

The absurdity and simplicity of the answer had caught Nines off guard. Gavin Reed, useless? They had won a medal together just six months ago for solving an incredibly dangerous case, saving the lives of ten other officers in the process (and possibly the entire DPD). Their success had almost entirely been due to Gavin. Useless?

Nines strongly disagreed.

He had told Gavin so. Nines always said what he meant.

Gavin had huffed under his breath.

“ Alright, shit, I get it,” he’d said, trying and failing not to smile. “You’re a big fucking suck-up.”

Nines knew enough about humans to understand that the insulting response had roughly meant, in Gavin-language,“Thank you, Nines. I’m flattered.”

What confused him is why Gavin didn’t just say that instead.

Humans never said what they meant. It was inconvenient.

Gavin's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“Hey, Robocop. You find anything?”

Nines blinked. Gavin was staring at him, phone in hand, waiting.

Nine shook his head. “This crime scene is so elaborately staged, I can’t move through it without risking disrupting the evidence. Every object in this room is potentially a key to solving the case. There’s a very low probability the killer managed to set this up without leaving some traces of his presence behind-- fingerprints, hair, DNA. It would be better to wait until forensics arrives, and allow them to do their job. “

Gavin wrinkled his nose, thinking. It was a habit of his.

(One that Nines found extremely distracting, but it wasn’t the time for that.)

“Is something bothering you, Detective?” Nines asked.

Gavin huffed. “Yeah, stop calling me ‘detective.’ You know my name.”

He paused for a moment, sighed, and then gestured to the scene in front of them.

“It’s this whole thing, Nines. I hate it when they do this shit. It’s so fucked up. Trying to turn something so horrible into something pretty, or romantic, or-- I don’t know. You’ll see. These cases are always hell to investigate. We can’t let a single drop of this leak to the media, or else this poor girl is going to be on the front page of every newspaper across the country. ‘The Girl In the Wedding Dress’, or some shit like that.”

Nines didn’t understand. “I’m not sure I’m following you. You don’t want her case to be publicized?”

Gavin shook his head. “Hell no. How do I explain this? Okay. This girl, she’s not fucking Juliet, right? What's her real name? You know it already with your facial recognition?”

“Ashley Briggs.”

“Okay. She’s not Juliet. She’s Ashley. Ashley was a whole person, with a life and family and friends, and then some fucking creepy asshole murdered her and dressed her up like Juliet. The media’s problem is, they like stories with publicity. They like stuff that has a nice ring to it. Ashley Briggs, not so much. ‘The Girl in the White Dress?’ ‘The Woman in White?’ some other bullshit like that? They eat that up. A picture of a pretty girl in a wedding dress with a dagger in her chest? That’s the kind of stuff they eat for breakfast. They love it, Nines! It’s like the Black Dahlia. If any of this gets out, nobody will give two fucks about Ashley Briggs, but they’ll all love her death."

Gavin stopped for a moment to take a breath, hands gesturing wildly, eyes narrowed in anger.

"Rumors will be everywhere. Poor Ashley’s family is gonna have to deal with photos of their little girl murdered and dressed up in a fucking wedding dress all over every tabloid in the grocery store for the next eight years. And not a single one of the people obsessed with ‘Juliet’ is gonna give a shit about Ashley. Everyone’s gonna see her how the killer saw her, how he wanted us to see her, how he set her up: as pretty tragic Juliet in a wedding dress. Nobody is gonna know or remember Ashley Briggs. Don’t you see how fucked up that is? They never give a shit about the victim, even though they pretend to. It’s always about the fucking killer and his ideology.”

Nines was stunned. He had never considered that aspect of a crime before. Looking at it from that perspective, it did seem disturbing.

“They’ll romanticize her murder," he finished for Gavin, who looked almost too angry to continue.

Gavin nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The most fucked up part is, that’s what he wants. Her killer staged her this way because he’s trying to put on a fucking show. This is a murder with a message, we just don’t know what it is. I hate that those bastards always seem to get the attention they want. People always remember the killer, but they never remember the victim. Hell, how many people do you think could name a single victim of Ted Bundy? Or Jeffery Dahmer? Or any of the other sick bastards that decide to take their sexual fantasies out on so many innocent people that everyone forgets about?”

Nines raised an eyebrow. “We don’t know that this murder is sexual in nature.”

Gavin huffed. “Nah, but there’s a pattern when it comes to motive and method. There’s tons of examples. Um. Execution-style gunshots to the back of the head are cold, professional. Victim’s turned away, there’s a distance between them and the killer. No eye contact. Hired killers, a lot of the time.”

Gavin demonstrated with a finger gun, eyes distant, like he was remembering cases he’d seen before.

“Stranglings are personal, and a lot of the time they’re sexual. Killer’s up close, right in their face. Looking them in the eye, watching them slowly die, hands-on contact. It’s ‘intimate’ for those fucked-up pieces of shit. They’re normally sexual sadists. Hate those ones.”

Gavin’s brow wrinkled in disgust as he demonstrated.

“Stabbings are personal too, but in a different way. Bloody, aggressive, painful. Personal vendetta, lots of times. Someone close to the victim with a grudge. Betrayal maybe, ‘cause there’s anger behind it. Besides, she’s staged as fucking Juliet. Who do you think her Romeo’s supposed to be? The mailman?”

Nines hummed in response. He didn’t doubt Gavin’s theory, but any investigation should work from the external to the internal. The solid evidence should be interpreted to form theories, not theories interpreted to fit the evidence. The second an investigator began to let their personal opinions dictate the situation, they became biased.

“I still believe we should wait for the evidence to be analyzed before assuming anything.”

Gavin crossed his arms. His body language throughout this speech had been aggressive. Nines’ scans told him that Gavin was intensely angry.

“I’m not fucking assuming, I’m theorizing. If the evidence says something different then I’ll change my tune. I’m just saying, maybe the fact that she’s being staged all pretty in a fancy room in a wedding dress mirroring the suicide from goddamn ‘ Romeo and Juliet’ might have some tiny romantic undertones, Nines.”

“So perhaps we should interview her neighbors first.”

“Hell yes, we should,” Gavin said. “Starting with whoever found the body.”

He started to turn away to head out the door.

Nines stopped him. “Gavin, wait.”

He twisted back around in surprise. “What?”

Nines pressed his hands together, standing stiffly. “Are you angry with me?”

Gavin stopped in his tracks and paused for a moment in an emotion Nines was unable to read. There was a second of tension, and then Nines’ partner seemed to crumple inward as he sighed heavily, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

“No,” he said to the floor by his feet. “Sorry. It’s this case. Stuff like this- it’s fucking creepy. I get all tense. Of course I’m not mad at you, dumbass. I’m just- I’m not good at expressing shit, y’know. ”

Nines walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is there anything I can do?”

Gavin’s entire demeanor changed, going from aggressive to something much more vulnerable instantly. It was a switch that, even though they’d been together for six months now, Nines had rarely seen.

“No,” Gavin said softly. “I just want to catch the bastard. Otherwise, cases like this, they always stick with me. I’ll- I’ll see her everywhere. Ashley, I mean. In mirrors, reflections, dreams. Asking me why I couldn’t do it. People always act like murder investigations are some cop-show badass bullshit, but they aren’t. The pressure’s gonna be hell. We’re gonna have to go through her whole life and dig up a lot of secrets. Everyone has graves that are better left buried. Take my word for it, it’s gonna suck. And even if we find the fucking bastard, he still might get off. Normally, I can distance myself from it, I guess, but when it’s something this creepy- I just- I don’t know if I can do it. There's something about this case. I have such a bad fucking feeling about this whole thing. It’s driving me crazy. ”

Nines reached out and wrapped his arms around Gavin, pulling him close. It was meant as a comforting gesture, and he noticed with satisfaction that his partner’s distress seemed to decrease.

Nines was beginning to understand how to react to Gavin’s moods, even if he didn’t always understand the reason why they were happening. They had both worked dozens of homicide cases. Nines didn’t understand how this case was any different, but it didn’t matter. He was programmed to adapt to human unpredictability.

He never knew what to make of Gavin’s hunches, though. They were objectively irrational, and they were also always right. It drove him insane. It defied reason.

Then again, nothing about Gavin was reasonable.

“We’re professionals,” Nines began, “and-”

“And you’re hugging me in the middle of a fucking murder scene,” Gavin interrupted, voice muffled from pressing his face into Nines’ shoulder, “like a true professional.”

“You needed a hug. Let me finish. We’re professionals, and there’s a lot of potential just in this room for the killer to have made a mistake. The chances of him staging all this with zero forensic evidence left behind are very low-”

“Mhmmm,” Gavin said, leaning into the hug.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Nope,” Gavin muttered.

Nines sighed.

He gently pulled Gavin away from him, brushing off his partner’s coat, which was eternally covered in cat hair.

“We need to go interview the neighbors. Listen. We work very well together. We’ve faced near-impossible odds before. Compared to our last big case, this will most likely be easy.”

“Nothing’s ever easy,” Gavin groaned. “Especially not in fucking homicide.”

“Well then, we’ll support each other, just like last time.”

Gavin smiled wryly. “Are you going to break a rib and give me a concussion again?”

“That highly depends,” Nines said, “on whether or not you plan to shoot me a second time.”

“You told me to!”

“I was paralyzed and all my communications were disabled. I couldn’t tell you to do anything."

“Your light flashed!”

“My LED,” Nines said, raising an eyebrow, “never stops flashing, unless I’m decommissioned.”

Gavin shoved him-- an adorably futile effort, considering he didn’t move even a fraction of an inch.

“Come on, smartass,” Gavin said. “We have some friendly neighbors to interrogate.”

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #reed900 #gavin reed #rk900 #nines

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