#not that anyone remembers but seeing her face gives me the overwhelming urge to beat the shit out of her for some reason

[karmaphone]

devastated by the young furiosa casting, personally

[lubdubsworld]

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts.

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[  Author’s Note :  物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“Yoongi left a bunch of painkillers for you. He said you can take up to three per day.” Jin said calmly , carefully slipping the sleeves of my t shirt over my wrist as i held my arms out for him. He slipped the shirt over my head gently but his arms hit my shoulders, jostling me.   I swallowed the whimper of pain that shot through me at the movement. Mina was now awake, happily wiggling around on her rocker. 

It was a little past seven in the evening and Jungkook wasn’t due to arrive for another hour . 

“I could sleep on a bed of rusty nails right now. I’m so tired and i don’t know why. “ I whispered, staying still as he carefully drew the fabric down over my ribs, before stepping back. 

“I’ll sleep in the nursery with her. You should take the bed. You’re in no shape to be up and taking care of her when she wakes up. Jungkook’s asked me to stay here during the day because I’m not going to be performing for a couple months anyway and I’ve been losing my mind, rattling around that huge ass mansion all by myself. ” 

The phone rang, startling both of us. 

I groaned before moving to get up but Jin oppa held a hand up.

“Stay in bed. I’ll go see who it is.” 

I watched him disappear out of the room, settling back against the pillows and reaching for the ice pack in the small cooler by the bed. I had to ice my ribs every hour or so and while it didn’t seem to be helping much, I definitely appreciated the temporary numbness it offered. 

Jungkook’s guilt had driven a new wedge between us and he hadn’t so much as looked at me in three days. 

I wasn’t sure entirely if this was a good or bad thing. The fact that he seemed to be considering that he had to get his emotions under control to stop hurting the people around him was a welcome change. But the idea of going back to being ignored and treated like furniture , wasn’t really all that appealing. 

“Jungkook’s parents are on the way.” Jin’s voice broke through my reverie and i jumped. 

I resisted the urge to sob out loud . 

Mr and Mrs. Jeon were on the opposite side of the grief spectrum and just as annoying. 

Where Sooah’s parents were intent on making Jungkook remember their daughter as often as possible, Jungkook’s parents were intent on making him forget her. 

The only thing the two of them had in common was a burning hatred for me. 

Jungkook’s parents had wanted him to quit the company and sell it when it went into loss but Jungkook had categorically refused because that would result in all of his employees getting laid off, and back then Jungkook had been nothing if not ridiculously compassionate. Jungkook’s parents firmly believed that if it hadn’t been for me, their son would be back in Busan, letting them raise their granddaughter. 

“Great, that’s great. Did you tell them their son is not around?” I grimaced. I’d only met them three times in total and the last time was in the hospital two months ago when Jungkook had crashed in the middle of a board meeting, weeks of starving and dehydration catching up to him. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, getting cursed out in front of the doctors and nurses and it probably won’t be any fun in the privacy of my home either. 

Jin gave me a sympathetic smile. 

“He’s already told them he’s on the way. I’m going to take Mina out on a walk. Give you guys some privacy. Shoot me a text when they leave.” he said gently. 

“Can’t I come with?” I begged and he laughed. 

“That would be a bad idea, even if it weren’t for the cracked rib. Just relax. Smile and nod and let them spew whatever nonsense they want and then they’ll leave. ” 

I opened my mouth to tell him how many flaws there were in his plan when the doorbell rang. 

“And that’s my cue. Text me, yeah?” Jin moved to pick Mina up from the rocker before reaching for the baby carrier on the table. 

I debated the pros and cons of staying in bed and finally decided against it, gently throwing my legs off the edge and raising myself up to a sitting position. I heard vague voices by the front door, Jin’s sweet tones mingling with Jungkook’s slightly gruffer ones. 

I heard the door close and the stillness of the apartment was as oppressing as ever. I could hear him quite clearly though. The clink of the keys as they hit the bowl, the small click of the door as he locked it. 

i could imagine him, exhausted from the day’s work, briefcase held in one hand while the other tugged on the knot of his tie. 

I imagined for a second, what it must have been like for him with Sooah. She was a bright , incredibly cheerful person. Everyone kind of faded into the background when she was around. Sooah had always been the first to smile at a stranger, the first to laugh even if the joke wasn’t funny. The first one to stand up to help someone in need. 

I swallowed, clutching the sheets to ground myself. 

I guessed that she must’ve always rushed to greet him at the door. I could imagine him wrapping both arms around her waist, drawing her into a hug or even a kiss. 

 How was your day, Kookie?  (I’d heard her call him that, once when they had been at my father’s house for a charity dinner. )

I wondered if perhaps the very sight of her would have taken away all of the day’s exhaustion from him. Perhaps, he would forget all the ways his company had been failing back then at the sight of her beautiful laughing face. Perhaps losing his company hadn’t been as terrifying as losing his job.  

And perhaps once he lost her, he just couldn’t bear the thought of losing his life’s work too. And so he’d agreed to meet my father’s demands. 

My fingers began trembling a bit .

I could imagine her moving around the house, pregnant and glowing, laughing as he nuzzled into the curve of her belly. Had he perhaps pressed his lips to her skin, whispered sweet endearments to his daughter through the fabric of his wife’s clothes? Had he perhaps loved Mina, deeply? WAs it just his grief that made it hard to be near his wife. Or was it perhaps me? Me holding the baby that should have been in his beautiful wife’s arms. 

The wife he had been so madly, deeply in love with. 

Love, I thought vacantly.

It wasn’t something I had ever felt, for anyone until I’d began caring for Mina.

But what Jungkook had with his wife was something different wasn’t it? 

The love a man had for a woman. Laced with desire, longing and passion. A love that made you put their happiness over your own.  

Love like that had never been in the cards for me. 

Ever

I was an Omega. Rare and hated and known for being selfish and greedy. People didn’t love my kind. They avoided me. They always assumed I would take advantage of them. My peers growing up had treated me with so much contempt. 

 The girls would whisper how I was trying to seduce their boyfriends. The boys would call me a tease, even when I stayed far away and did nothing to attract their attention. I’d gotten used to it. It didn’t bother me. it was the way of the world for me. Ad it wasn’t like I could honestly deny some of it. 

I looked at handsome alphas and wanted them. I wanted to be held and cherished. To be bought pretty things and cared for. It had taken decades for me to beat that part of mine into submission. To remind myself that if I ever let that part of me out, it would destroy me. 

But love? Being in love with someone? 

I didn’t know what that could have been like for Jungkook. 

Or maybe I had but I couldn’t recognize it because I’d never received it myself. Whatever the cause, it was for me, a fairytale. It was hard to imagine people loving each other so much, to the extent that they would die for each other. ( Jungkook’s words still hung in the back of my mind : that he had wanted to follow her even in death ) 

Jungkook was right.

I could never know what his loss was like. 

Because I would never know what he had lost. 

It felt a little like being dipped in an ice cold lake in the middle of winter. My skin broke out in shivers, hair standing on end and I felt my throat go dry so swiftly. I’d never wanted to run away so much. I wrapped a hand sound myself, scooting back on the bed again. I reached for the blanket, wanting to pull it over my head and curl into a ball. 

Shut out the world and all the things that didn’t make sense. 

“Are you alright?” Jungkook’s voice broke through the haze in my head and I swallowed. He had an alpha’s voice and my body responded even if my mind resisted. It didn’t happen all the time. Jungkook couldn’t control me. But sometimes when I was feeling vulnerable, instincts took over . I was already dropping the blanket and smiling softly.

“Mina’s out for a walk.” I croaked out, surprised at how awful my voice sounded. 

I felt the press of something against my fingers and I blinked, staring at the glass of water Jungkook was pressing into my hand.

“Don’t worry, I called them and told them not to come over.” He said quietly , watching me drink with still trembling fingers. 

I swallowed and stared at him. 

“I... Thank you. “ I said fervently, feeling a few knots come undone in my gut. I couldn’t really stand up to Jungkook’s parents the way I did with Sooah’s parents. Because Jungkook loved them deeply and hurting them would be the same as hurting him. 

“There’s a party in a couple of days. It’s my birthday. I’m turning 34.  Yugyeom’s organizing the whole thing, so I’m going to hire a babysitter for Mina, because Jin hyung will be there too and you need help caring for her anyway. You can stay home and rest. ” he said . 

I scoffed. 

“I’m going to come with you.” I said firmly. 

Jungkook frowned. 

“What?” 

I glared at him. 

“I’m not letting you go to a party organized by your shit for brains friend, Jungkook. You’ll probably end up getting drunk out of your mind and killing someone and I’m not going to hang around to clean that up. I’m coming to that party and I’m making sure you don’t have more than one drink.  “

Jungkook’s frown deepened into a scowl. 

Did you ever look at your wife , like this? With so much loathing? I thought stupidly. Or did she only ever get to see the sweet and wonderful side of you? Did she ever annoy you the way i seem to every second of the damn day ? Did you hate certain things about her too? Or was she so perfect that you could only feel love ? 

“ I can take care of myself. Its my birthday , I can do whatever the fuck I want.“ He snapped. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

“Not unless you’re a five year old kid in the sandpit, which you’re not. You’re an adult and when you make stupid decisions as an adult, very real people end up paying for it. You’re old enough to know this Jungkook and for once, just listen to me. You can drink, fine. But I’m going to be there and if I see that you’re getting drunk, I’m going to bring you home. You either agree or I’m going to call Yoongi oppa .” 

That made him pause. 

“Fine. Fuck you.” He snapped, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. A few seconds later I heard the door to the shower slam shut.  

 I wanted to follow him and shake some sense into him but before I could decide if it was worth jostling my body, when another sharp pain lanced through my ribs.

Oh great. 

I took deep breaths the way Yoongi had taught me. Apparently, pneumonia was a thing that could happen, so i had to breath carefully to reduce the risk of that happening. 

The birthday party organized by Yugyeom was going to be a whole entire migraine inducing disaster. I could already feel the headache come on. It still amazed me that Jungkook was friends with him and his cronies. 

Yugyeom and his friends were the typical; brain dead alphas who thought themselves superior to all other ranks. Even worse, they viewed omegas as objects: fucktoys to be more precise and I bristled when i remembered the way he had always stared at me. 

Well, if he stepped anywhere near me, I would kick him in the teeth. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jungkook’s mother turned up at home the next day, I wasn’t entirely surprised. I wasn’t surprised but it didn’t make things any more pleasant. 

“We’re willing to take Mina for a couple of days if you would both need time to prepare for the party. This is the first big event Jungkook’s holding after Sooah’s passing and we want it to be perfect. As his wife, i hope you’ll do your part.” 

Mrs Jeon’s pinched face did nothing for my already frayed temper. 

“There’s not much i can do with a cracked rib, mother.” I said politely. It stung, having to call this bitter, cruel woman mother but then, such was life. It was late afternoon and Jungkook was probably sitting in the comfort of his air conditioned office, being flattered and doted on by his smitten secretary while I sat here entertaining his vicious mother. 

“Nonsense, you’ve probably just scratched it. I know how you omegas like to exaggerate. “ she waved off my injury easily. “ There are so many details that need to be decided on and its unfair to drop all of those responsibilities on poor yugyeom’s head. Why don’t you go with him and help out a bit?” 

The idea of going anywhere with Kim Yugeom was easily the most repugnant thing to me. 

“I’m sure he knows Jungkook much better than I do. If i interfered, I’d only be getting in his way.” I said politely. 

Mrs. Jeon hummed.

“Well, its good that he’s agreed to the party at least. That woman never let him meet with Yugyeom or his friends when she was around.”

That woman being Jungkook’s late wife. 

I felt a sudden fondness for her. Clearly she had also recognized Yugyeom for the absolute pig that he was and kept her husband away from his rotten influence . But unlike with her, Jungkook didn’t actually care about me. So I had no way of stopping him from meeting the idiots. Yugyeom’s family was rich and reputed and it was clear that the Jeons wanted the friendship and the connection. Why else would they keep pushing for it so much?

“Is there any particular reason you’re here, mother?” I said finally, after hearing her babble on and on about caterers and invitations and what not. 

“I was hoping to meet Mina...why isn’t she here?” 

“I’m not able to care for her well, what with the rib. The doctor has advised me to rest so Jin oppa takes care of her during the day. Jungkook picks her back up on his way back from office. I can send her over to your place with him this weekend.” 

“That would be fine i suppose. Have you spoken to the decorators about changing the portraits put up in the house?”

I blinked.

“Sorry?”

“The penthouse, we’ve got it back now right? why don’t you move there. We have a cook and a housekeeper .”]

“this is closer to Jungkook’s office.” I had no idea where the penthouse was and could only hope it was farther way. 

Mrs. Jeon frowned. 

“This apartment is too small. Not to mention, you still have Sooah’s photos everywhere in this place. Surely that’s not healthy. Get rid of them and put up pictures of you and Jungkook.” 

Jungkook’s parents didn’t know that our marriage had an expiry date. i wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing. But they saw me as nothing more than a way to get rid of Sooah from the deepest recesses of Jungkook’s mind. 

“I’m sure, with time...Jungkook can make that decision by himself. When he’s ready for it.” I said gently, beginning the fresh throb of pain near my temple. 

“Nonsense, Heejin. Men won’t ever move on until you force them. Have you considered getting  pregnant?” 

I jumped about a foot into the air.

“I...what.” I croaked out. 

“You need a child too. He mated you. He owes you that. I’m going to tell him that he better do his duty by you.” She said firmly. 

“Please don’t.” I shouted, stunned out of my mind. Was this woman even sane?

“Why not?” She frowned looking at me like i was the one being unreasonable. 

 Why not? Because its barely been four months since he lost his wife of seven years to childbirth. Surely, you don’t think the remedy to that is to have him go through it all over again. 

 “ Mina is still small, mother. I’m sure we can wait a while. Maybe after she’s one or two.” 

 Jungkook would probably move on by then. Of course he would. Grief was overwhelming but it was also finite. It did get smaller over time. Easier to cope with. Jungkook would eventually be able to navigate his life around his grief. He would learn to make new connections and who was to say one of those wouldn’t be a compatible match? 

So two years from now, there was no reason Jungkook shouldn’t meet another lovely woman, a beta maybe and eventually expand his family. Of course i would be nowhere in the picture at the time. But that was fine. 

I remembered something I’d read somewhere, a while back. 

 If two people are like ships that pass in the night, they meet by chance for a short time , then do not see each other ever again. 

Like ships passing by each other in the night,  I reminded myself. That's what Jungkook and I were. 

“Well, if you think that’s wise.... fine. But now that Jungkook’s doing well, why don’t you entertain people more often? You haven’t had a dinner party here yet, have you?”

And so it went on, over an over for a whole two hours until I was wrung out from sheer exhaustion, my head throbbing and nails having dug half moon indents into my palms from fisting my hands too hard. 

By the time i finally closed the door on her face, I couldn’t help but sag against the door, sinking to the floor in a heap, cracked rib be damned. 

I glanced up at the solo portrait on the wall. The one my mother in law had wanted gone. 

“She must’ve really hated you, huh?” I said casually pulling myself up to my feet and moving to the dining space to stare at her face more closely. 

She was dressed in her wedding gown, a fitted mermaid dress with lace and satin detailing. She had a bouquet of white lilies in one hand, elbows bent and the blooms resting on her shoulder while her other hand curved around her slender waist. 

Beautiful was an understatement, I thought vacantly. 

“ You look like you didn’t put up with people’s bullshit. That’s cool I guess.” I smiled a little. “ You know in another world, we may have been friends.” 

I bit my lips.

“Yugyeom was shitty to you too huh? He seems the type. i’m glad you kept Jungkook away from him. I wish you’d somehow help get him away again. He doesn’t listen to me. Thinks I’m trying to control him or something. ”

It was ridiculous. What was i doing.. Why was i talking to a framed picture on the wall. God.

But now that I’d started, I couldn’t quite stop.

“About what happened with Jungkook... I don’t want you to think i was seducing him or anything. And when i said that I hated him calling your name when we... well you know why i said it right? It wasn’t anything personal...i was just pissed. I don’t enjoy the sex by the way... I don’t think he does either but he’s an alpha and you know how it is…they need that release or they kind of lose their mind .. So trust me we both hate the principle of it.... but at least he cums and well I don’t. He’s never made me cum. That should say something about how we feel about each other.......”

“Uh.. Should I come back later?” The voice near the doorway was so unexpected my heart jumped right to my throat and I screamed, stumbling a bit to the side.

Min Yoongi stood framed by the door, one hand wrapped around a bouquet of flowers and the other clutching his bag and stethoscope. He still had his white coat on over his shirt and slacks, hair mussed like he’d run his finger through it.

It took me a second to remember that Yoongi had a key to the house.

Another second to remember exactly what I’d been doing when he came inside.

Good God.

Had he heard the part where I’d talked about Jungkook not making me cum? Surely not? Oh Please no. 

“Jungkook told me to check on you. That you couldn’t sleep last night? Are you in a lot of pain?” 

Jungkook and I had shared the bed in his room last night and I had apparently, tossed and turned and whimpered through the night in pain. Or so Jungkook claimed. 

“Uh... I’m not sure. He said so... so..” 

“you guys sleep together right?” Yoongi asked casually, taking his coat off. I stared at the way the material of the shirt strained over his shoulders, my throat just a little dry. 

Yoongi smelled so ridiculously good. He was a doctor and he was so handsome and kind to me. The attraction would have been there even if i had been a beta but as an omega, the urge to just fling myself at him and beg him to make me his, it was kind of horrifying. 

Tamping down that part of me, I gave him a casual shrug, heart still pounding. 

“Yeah. There’s just two bedrooms here and one is Mina’s nursery. So ...” I finished awkwardly, watching him move around and place his bag on the table before unwinding the stethoscope, placing it around his collar. 

He gave me a small smile. 

“I’ll just take a quick look and check how your breathing sounds. that okay?” He asked gently. 

“Oh... sure. You need me to take my shirt off?” I asked curiously. 

He gave me a quick little smirk. 

“Not for medical reasons no.” He winked. 

I felt blood rush to my face along with guilt. What was I doing? This was Jungkook’s best friend!! His hyung. Someone he trusted and I was his....

His what? 

Nothing. I was Jungkook’s nothing. When was the last time someone had flirted with me . Someone who wasn’t a grade A creep. 

Yoongi moved closer, sitting down on the kitchen stool and beckoned me to come stand between his thighs. i moved, achingly aware of how much more potent his scent was up close. He looked up at me through sooty black lashes, a small smirk on his lips, feline eyes warm and open . 

“Put your hands on my shoulders, yeah?” He prompted. 

I hesitated, fingers shaking just a little before reaching out to rest on this shirt. I kept the touch feather light , the softness of his shirt the only thing I could feel.

He hummed and bending  down to lightly tug the hem of my shirt out of the waistline of my jeans. I bit my lips to stop myself from squirming. 

He glanced up , eyes meeting mine and holding my gaze. 

“You good?” 

“Uhuhbuh.” I stuttered and he grinned wider, pulling the fabric up to the curve of my breasts. He lightly ran his finger tips over the bruised skin , humming thoughtfully .

“You’ll be fine in a few weeks. Hang on.” He pulled back, plugging the steth in his hear before holding the other end up to my chest. He pressed it against my skin, just before the underwire of my bra and it was unexpectedly cold .

I jumped, fingers curling on his shoulder and squeezing down. 

“Hey.. what’s wrong?” Yoongi whispered, hands reaching for my waist, gently holding me steady and I flushed. He looked genuinely worried , lips turned down and brows furrowed and i felt absolutely stupid. 

“Sorry. Sorry.... It’s nothing.. i just.. it’s a little cold.” I laughed nervously and his gaze softened. 

One hand still curved around my waist, he brought the diaphragm up to his mouth, holding my gaze as he gently breathed warm air all over it. 

My throat went instantly dry and i had to swallow. He pressed it against my chest again and this time it was so much warmer. .

“Better?” He prompted and i nodded, guilt and discomfort churning in my stomach. What was i doing? I had no business indulging him. i had no business indulging any man. Ever.

 I looked away, pulling my hands up off his shoulder, pushing his hand off my hip as well . He didn’t say anything his shoulders stiffened at the subtle rejection. 

A mantle of awkward tension settled over us, a small thundercloud of regret and that threatened to rain misery all over us. I wanted to kick myself.  He was older than Jungkook by four years. Thirty eight years old. 

Did he have a girlfriend? Oh god, what if he was martried?

Nausea threatened. 

“Your breathing sounds fine. Are you practicing those breathing exercises , I taught you?” He asked casually and I nodded . I couldn’t trust myself to speak. 

“Hey...” He said gently and I flinched. 

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out. “ I didn’t mean to lead you on or tease you in any way and I’m sorry if i came on to you ...”

“What?! Heejin, stop. That’s bullshit. You never did any such thing. This was all me.” He said firmly. 

I stared at him.

“I know you’re married but... your marriage, its going to end right? Eventually.” 

I made to step back but he grabbed my waist again, this time a few inches over my jean and his fingers on the bare skin of my midriff made me want to melt. He had long slender fingers, a surgeons hands, and the press of it on my skin felt so foreign and gentle and different and good. 

“We don’t have to do anything. I just... I thought we could get to know each other. Over coffee or dinner.”

I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all.

Because Yoongi was beautiful and handsome and so good and so much more than I could ever even dream of,  but he was and would always be so intricately woven with Jungkook and with Jungkook’s life. And I couldn’t imagine anything more messy than sticking around and watching Jungkook and his daughter forget me and move on.

“It’s.... probably a terrible idea. “ I said roughly, shaking my head. “ Its the kind of idea that would never end well.” 

“Are you sure? Because unlike Jungkook, i could probably make you cum.” He winked and I felt my face flame red. 

“Oh God...” I hissed, stumbling back. This time he let me move away, merely chuckling and reaching for his coat and bag . 

“I won’t bother you again. But the offer’s always open, yeah?” He smiled again. “ You need me to send over more pain meds?”

I shook my head mutely, begging him to just leave already. 

He nodded and held his hand up in a casual wave before walking out of the door. I collapsed on the stool and dropped my head into my arms , groaning. 

What had i gotten myself into. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t actually see Jungkook for a couple of days. The meds knocked me out and he worked overtime, only arriving after I’d slept off and leaving before i woke up. Jin brought Mina around everyday and there was something absolutely exhilarating about watching her clutch at her little teething toys and rattles, gummy smile peeking out every few minutes. 

On a whim, i told Jin what had happened with Yoongi and much to my surprise he actually laughed. 

“About time . He’s been pining for what three years now?” 

I gaped at him, completely thrown.

“I..he.. what.” I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what I had heard. 

“He saw you at that art exhibition you put up in the Hyatt . By the way, don’t you paint anymore?”

I flushed. 

I had no proper response to that. What could i say? That my painting had just been yet another way to control me, only appreciated by father when he could use it to make more money. And that part of my marriage contract included that I wouldn’t paint or make any money off my art for the duration that I stayed with Jungkook. 

It was just yet another way my father reminded me that he controlled him. I didn’t fight him because he would win anyway. And the only thing he loved more than controlling people was winning battles that were always rigged in his favor. i wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. I would soldier through this awful marriage and at the end of it , i would disappear without a trace. 

I shook my head vaguely and Jin hummed. 

“Yoongi doesn’t understand art but he hung around the entire nine hours , morning to night . Three whole days of him just pretending to look at the artwork while secretly making moon eyes at you.”

I could only stare in sheer disbelief. 

“i... i never knew.” 

“How could you? Yoongi’s idea of courting is pretending he doesn’t exist and fading into the background. “ Jin rolled his eyes. “ He tried approaching your father to officially court you but your old man shut that down rather brutally.” 

I swallowed . 

“I... I’m sorry.” i said feeling foolish. Three years...what? I couldn’t think beyond the shock of the information. 

“Does Jungkook know?” I asked , scared. 

Jin shook his head.

“Like I said Yoongi never made it known . He was afraid it would make life difficult for you. He didn’t want any rumors around because everyone knew your father was looking to offer you to someone rich and young. Yoongi was what , fifteen years older? That’s quite a difference.”

“Thirty eight isn’t old.” I said sharply and Jin’s brow went up. 

“Oh?” He questioned teasingly and I flushed. 

“Jungkook is eleven years older. What’s another four more years?” I shrugged.

“You’re interested then.” Jin said thoughtfully. I recoiled, shaking my head quickly.

“I...what? No. No I’m not. “ 

“Why not? If it isn’t the age, then there’s no reason  to say no. Yoongi is handsome , settled and a great guy all around and besides,  your time with Jungkook is finite right?” 

“I... I won’t cheat on him.” I said firmly. “ i can’t... I... besides, Jungkook and I... we’re... we have sex.” My ears turned red, “ I can’t do that with two guys... I’m not like that. “ 

Jin nodded.

“Its alright.. Heejinah ...I’m sorry if i pressured you or anything. You don’t have to do anything. I know you have a lot on your plate right now. Yoongi probably got carried away . More than likely he’s going to panic and avoid you for a year just to recover.” He laughed and I smiled reluctantly. 

“He’s nice I don’t want to hurt him. “ I said softly. 

“ Sometimes that’s just inevitable . People get hurt no matter what we choose.” Jin gave me a sad little smile. “ Jungkook is just as nice a gy as Yoongi. If not better. He’s just...not in the right headspace to show that side of himself to you. I wish you’d known him before Sooah. He used to be this...playful and funny kid. We all went out of our way to keep him safe. Sooah was just as amazing. Usually , we try to find flaws in people our friends  date right? Well trust me Sooah was hard to dislike .” He laughed, eyes misting over as his gaze landed on her  portrait over the mantle. 

I followed his gaze and swallowed. 

“Do you think Jungkook will ever get over her?” I asked simply. 

Jin hesitated. 

“Someday? Probably yes. But it won’t be easy. He’s ... He feels things deeply. He always has. He loved her deeply, he cared for her deeply and so its only obvious that he’s going to feel the loss of her presence very deeply too.” 

I nodded. 

“Its his birthday tomorrow.” I said softly. “ I have a gift for him. Well its not a gift from me, but a gift nonetheless.  But I’m not sure if I should give it to him.” 

Jin gave me a surprised look. 

“What do you mean?” 

I smiled bitterly.

“Just that sometimes fate can be very cruel when it chooses its players. I’m forever wondering if he would be better off or worse without me in the picture and I just can’t decide.” 

“Different. He would just be different.” Jin said calmly. 

There was nothing else i could say to that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yugyeom had rented out the rooftop restaurant in one of the poshest Hotels in Seoul and although the party was a pool party, I hadn’t bothered dressing for it. I wore a plain sequined top and burgundy skirt that fanned out around me knees. 

The place was teeming with people his age , friends acquaintances and business partners. The women had changed into bright , skimpy bikinis and lounged about in the brightly lit pool tossing a ball around .

The older people were being hosted by the Jeons on the lower level of the restaurant in a posh ballroom. Jungkook and i would have to visit them later but for now I was content sipping a mocktail, leaning against the bar while Hoseok and Lisa flanked me on either side, pointing out who was sleeping with who. 

Jungkook was in the pool with Yugyeom and Jimin and it was impossible to tear my eyes away from him. He looked happy almost, laughing and shaking water out of his hair as he moved around with the strength and agility of an Olympic athlete. Yoongi was in the pool as well and on the opposite team with Jin and Namjoon....and it was increasingly obvious that the half a dozen bikini clad women were there simply for an excuse to touch the handsome alphas as they worked up a sweat. 

“Jungkook is such a competitive bastard.” Hoseok laughed. “But I don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi today. i can’t believe he’s in the pool. “

“Of his own volition. “ Lisa added. “ usually someone has to strip him and toss him in. 

Yoongi kept glancing at me every few minutes. It was impossible to miss. It was also impossible to miss that at least three of the six women in the pool were trying to get into his pants. 

I sighed and turned back to the bartender asking for a refill. when i turned back around, Jungkook and Yugyeom were climbing out of the pool and Jin was moving to the opposite side to take their place with Jimin. 

“Jungkook and i are going to go get a drink. Anything for you , beautiful?” Yugyeom reached out to touch me and I almost fell in my haste to get away from him. 

“Keep your hands off me.” I snapped . Jungkook frowned. 

“No need to be rude, Heejin , he was just being polite.” He said softly and i smelt the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t drink too much Jungkook.”

“Oh come on, beautiful., Its his birthday let him live a little...” Yugyeom laughed and I glared at him.

“I’d rather have him live longer “ I snapped. “ And that can’t happen if you keep trying to give him alcohol poisoning.” 

Yugyeom rolled his eyes. 

“Is she always this dramatic, Jungkook-ah.” Yugyeom laughed. Jungkook didn’t laugh but he gave me a look that said, ‘ please don’t make a scene’ and I bit my lips. 

I didn’t want to ruin his night. He looked ....so close to a normal person tonight and whether I liked it or not Yugyeom had contributed to that. The music was apparently Jungkook’s favorites only, the pool because he loved volleyball in the water and the buffet had all his favorite foods. Yugyeom had gone out of his way to make the party perfect and i suddenly felt like the troll stomping on Jungkook’s happiness. 

Swallowing my own instinct to drag my husband away from the alpha who had his arms around him, I turned away and walked off to the pool. Yoongi’s face lit up when he saw me.

“Hey there, angel. Here to watch me kick some ass? “ He cupped his hands in the water, before tossing a handful of water at me. I blinked in surprise, laughing a little. 

“I’m just here to cheer Jin oppa. “ I said impishly, moving over to the lounge chair near his side of the pool. Yoongi’s pout was adorable and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

Maybe I could stop worrying about Jungkook for a while. Yugyeom wasn’t dangerous. Even if he got a little drunk, I was still here. So were all of our friends. 

It would be fine. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it wasn’t fine. 

An hour later, I found Jungkook in a room filled with cigarette smoke and light music, yugeyom and his friends scattered around the place with a few beautiful women lounging about on their laps. 

“You said one drink Yugyeom...he’s completely out of his mind.” I said shrilly staring at where Jungkook sat on the couch , shirtless and laughing as some girl in a bikini ran her fingers up and down his arm. She had one leg draped over his thigh.  I felt sick at the very sight of it. 

its because he’s drunk ,  I told myself.  He’s drunk and can’t consent, that’s why you feel sick, nothing else.  

Yugyeom gave me an easy smile. 

“Guy just wants to have some fun. Reina’s a friend of mine. She’ll take good care of him don’t worry. She’s the birthday gift i got him. “ He leered. 

I resisted the urge to punch him in the face. 

Glaring at him, 

“Jungkook, we’re leaving. Come on.” I made to move towards him but a hand shot out, gripping my wrist like a vice. 

“Not so fast baby.... I already paid for her. You can’t just waltz in here and take away her livelihood.” He sneered. “ Unless you want to take her place. This is a special bar you know. All these lovelies, they have something in common with you.” 

I stared at him frowning.

“What does that mean?” 

“I hired them from an omega escort agency...you know because that’s all you omegas are useful for anyway.” 

I rolled my eyes, yanking on my wrist. 

“You and your medieval ideals can go to hell. I’m going home. Jungkook!!” I yelled again and this time Jungkook turned eyes landing on me. 

“Heejin?” He slurred. 

“We need to go home, Jungkook.” I said firmly. 

“Now?” He blinked. I nodded. 

“Yes now.” I made to move away but this time Yugyeom wrapped both arms around my waist, pinning me to his body. Pain , sharp and unbearable shot up my ribs and I whimpered. He was squeezing too hard and God what if the cracked rib just snapped? 

Panic began setting in and I yelped.

“Let me go you bastard.” I struggled to get away, staring in disbelief at my husband . 

Jungkook was standing but he swayed dangerously. There was no clarity there and his eyes were hooded. He was drunk. Really, really drunk. 

“Jungkook tell him to let me go!!” I yelled , trying to tamp down the panic that was rising up my throat. 

“Don’t worry Kook. Just gonna ask her to wait outside for a while. Why don’t you finish your conversation with Reina.. i’ll entertain your wife for a while.” He drawled and i felt my entire body go ice cold at that. 

Jungkook was blinking rapidly, the words clearly not registering and genuine terror began to bleed into my veins. Jungkook couldn’t even fathom that i was in genuine danger here, let alone help me. Oh God, why had i come alone? Where were the others??

Yugyeom held me tighter and i swallowed a groan . My ribs felt like they were on fire. 

“Let’s take this somewhere private, Heejin?” He whispered into my neck and i couldn’t believe it. Yugyeom was drunk yes, but was this idiot also insane? 

“Wait...no.. Yugeyom don’t be a fucking idiot. If you touch me, that’s fucking rape...You can go to prison for that .” I shouted, trying to drill some sense into his head. He wasn’t going to risk prison to make a point was he?? 

“Not if you seduce me angel...and you’re going to... Or I’ll just tell people you did...same difference , right?” he whispered. 

And then he began dragging me off to the corner and my eyes fell on a side door leading out of the room . 

 If you let him take you there this is going to become frighteningly real,  a voice screamed in my head and I inhale deeply, ready to scream loud enough to get the attention of everyone in the damned building. 

The door opened just as I opened my mouth and I froze, watching Mrs Jeon walk into the lounge, looking lost.

“What is this place?” She muttered out loud looking around and the arms around me fell away so fast, I crashed to the floor. 

“Heejin-ah!” Yoongi’s voice came from right behind her and I flinched, willing my shaking legs to stop trembling. 

“Mrs. Jeon...” I muttered, voice strained and ribs throbbing. 

“Heejin? What is going on here? Where’s my son?” 

“Fuck... Jungkook-ah...” Yoongi moved to get him and I took a deep steadying breath. 

Years ago , I’d taken a self defence class and one thing i’d definitely enjoyed learning was how to throw a punch. And It wasn’t something i’d forgotten. 

Planting my feet firmly , i lightly rotated my hips, a subtle shift, before engaging my core , drawing all the fury and helpless rage inside me into my fist. I pulled my shoulders in and took a deep breath. Punch past your target , i told myself. You’re not just going to break his jaw you’re going to put him in the hospital tonight. 

“Mrs. Jeon, Jungkook had a great time toni-” His voice was all i needed to hear  to know exactly where his mouth was behind me. 

i relaxed my muscles as i threw the punch, contracting them just as my fist landed on Kim Yugyeom’s face.  

The satisfying sound of flesh on bone felt like music to my ears and Yugyeom’s sharp cry of sheer agonizing pain even sweeter. 

He crashed to the floor in a heap and I could feel my fist throb like hell. I was going to bruise so badly. But it was worth it. 

“That was for telling me that you were going to rape me and tell everyone that i seduced you.” I said calmly. 

Yoongi let out a noise of disbelief. 

“What the actual fuck.....” He shouted. 

“Yugyeom what the fuck man? Are you out of your damned mind?” One of his friends yelled. Yugyeom merely groaned. 

He couldn’t answer, blood trickling down his chin and hands cradling his jaw, whimpers falling out of his  mouth. My own fist throbbed like hell so the damage had to be significant. 

Mrs Jeon looked horrified and when she opened her mouth i quickly held a hand up.

“I’m not doing this. Not tonight. “ I said calmly. Jungkook was quiet, the way he always got when he was drunk and I groaned. 

It was going to be a long night. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We need to talk.” I said calmly and Jungkook swallowed. 

“Heejin, I’m -”

“Hear me out first Jungkook.” I said sharply. “ I don’t need your apology, it means nothing to me because it means nothing to you. You’re not sorry that you didn’t help me last night. You’re just angry that you had to help at all. You don’t give a fuck about me. I know that and I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is you getting drunk to the point that you don’t even recognize that someone’s in need of help. “ 

I took a deep breath. 

“If you did it to me, you’ll do it to your daughter too. Yugyeom is going to get you drunk someday when you’re taking care of Mina by yourself and then when she needs you, what are you going to do?” 

“You’re right... I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk -”

“I’m only here , talking to you , because of your daughter. If it was just you, I wouldn’t give a damn because you’re an adult and if you make your bed , you can just lie on it. It wouldn’t bother me. But Mina...she’s not capable of making the right choices. She need a father who can make the right choices, because whatever shitty choice you make, your daughter is going to be there along for the ride whether she wants to or not. You drive your car off a cliff tomorrow , she’s going to be there in the car seat laughing because she doesn’t know the consequences of your choices. “ 

I clenched my fists to keep my voice even. To stop myself from yelling. 

“I have something for you. “ 

I grabbed the brown paper wrapped canvas from under the table. 

“It’s a painting . Your wife commissioned me to make this a year ago when she got pregnant.” 

He froze so eerily still that it made me nervous.

“At first , i wasn’t sure if i should be giving it to you because well... because i was marrying you ... I wasn’t sure that it would be right, coming from me ...because I was taking your wife’s place after all...”

i laughed. 

“Now I know that's just bullshit. I don’t have a place in your life. I’m a nobody. This isn’t about me. This is about you. She told me back then that you were nervous about being a father. That was all she said. And she wanted me to pain this. “ I held the canvas out to him. 

“You can see it. I’m going to go stay with Jin oppa for a few days. I want you to see it. It shows how your wife saw you. The kind of father she hoped you would be. I want you to see it and make a choice. You can either get the help you need. “ i took a deep breath, “ Or I’m going to tell Yoongi that you’re incompetent to be a father. He’ll file charges , “ I had to close my eyes to get the next words out, “ and you will lose custody of your daughter.” 

Jungkook inhaled sharply, hands curling into fists on his knees. 

“i hope you make the right choice.” 

I wrapped both my arms around myself and walked out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note. :

I’m so exhausted I’ll tag people tomorrow! 

.@girlinthemikrokosmos  @xius-exos  @sugainfireslex  @yunkichiee@kpopstudybee @ephyraaaa  @peachoney9795 @ggukkieland  @veronawrites  @blr1004   @tinyhoagiepartylover @btsis7okay@squishyjk  @itsdingdong @emmmui  @honeeybunneey  @yeonkiminnie

@just-me-and-myselfs  @delicate-snow-flake  @kpop-lore  @beautifulvirgobutterfly @sumzysworld  @btsmylife21  @teresaisla

.@melrosaeparker @taestannie @dchimminie  @ meraki--life   @somewhereinthestarss  @mawwnsterr  @kookiesbreaky  @chimchoom 

[67impalaandwhisky]

Get Some Rest

Daryl Dixon x Wife

Rating: 18+

Chapter 8.

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst

Warnings For This Chapter: Jealous!OC, Fingering, Daddy Kink, Squirting, Romantic!Daryl 

Setting down his fork, your husband leans back in his chair satiated and content.

"We could watch a movie," you muse, throwing your feet up onto his lap.

Daryl hums in agreement, taking to stroking the bare skin of your ankles with soothing circular motions.

"Gotta keep it down though, we got a heard comin' through tonight and tomorrow. Glenn and Rick are pullin' 'em through to the twenty mile marker," your husband informs you.

You nod, remembering hearing about the herd of fifty walkers that's begun to swarm around the old beat up town not too far away.

"No movie then, we can just relish in each other's company," you suggest.

"That's always a good plan," he whispers, leaning over and placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

It's hard to remember a time when Daryl wasn't this big ball of gushy love towards you. Not that he rarely shows it in front of anyone but that's alright in your book. What you share is special and it doesn't have to be on display twenty four hours a day wherever you go.

You deem it to be that he's so incredibly comfortable with you that that's the time that he can really be himself. 

Who would ever actually think that when Daryl settled down that he'd be excited about runs just to see if he could find old Motorhead records just to put them up on the wall or listen to them rarely when he finds a moment to himself?

He's finally able to live a real life.

A knock comes at the door pulling you out of your reverie and Daryl raises an eyebrow.

"I'll get it," he murmurs, slowly setting your feet in his chair as he stands.

When the front door opens and Leslie stands in the doorway, you have the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes.

This woman is like a mosquito that you try to swat away but somehow it always lives and continues to suck the blood out of you when you sleep.

She only just showed up to Alexandria a few months ago, Daryl and Rick brought her back after a run when she completed the famed three question quiz.

Since the moment she got into this community she's been trying to stick to your husband like glue.

She reeks of eau de homewrecker.

"Daryl!" she cheers sweetly, wrapping her hair around her index finger as she looks him over in his entirety.

"Daryl!" you mock under your breath, standing up and gathering the clean dishes.

"Uh, hey Leslie. Can I… help you?" your husband inquires, leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms.

She always has some excuse for him to come help her even though she literally sleeps beside Spencer every damn night.

Once she had the audacity to ask Daryl to teach her how to whittle arrows. The bitch has never held a bow and arrow in her life.

It would make you more upset but you know how loyal your husband is to you and you can't deny just how much he loves you, not when you're about to give birth to his child in a few weeks.

"Yes, you can! I need help moving my furniture and I need a nice… big… strong man to help me." 

Now with your back facing her, you roll your eyes so hard you're surprised they don't fall out of your head.

She's been getting bolder lately. Spencer's dicking down probably isn't up to snuff but why must you be subjected to her ill attempts at putting the moves on your man?

It might just be your hormones raging but you feel no ounce of regret when a fire starts to burn in the pit of your stomach. 

"He's busy," you call to her, turning on the water.

"Oh Y/N," she breathes, irritation scratching at her voice. "I didn't even see you. I was so taken with the man in front of me." 

Running the dirty chef's knife under the water until it's clean, you simply nod. Turning to her with the knife in hand, you flip it thoughtlessly, letting the handle glide from one hand to the other.

Daryl tilts his head to you, amusement flitting and then plastering to his face. The corner of his mouth lifts humorously, leaning his temple against the doorframe.

"Yeah, it must be really difficult to see me. It's no easy feat to look this skinny when I'm eight months pregnant with my husband's baby," you deadpan, turning the knife down and stabbing it into the wooden cutting board on your right that sits atop the island counter.

Leslie gives you a smile, one that's completely fake that doesn't reach her eyes and it only instills the treasured thought of wrapping your hands around her neck and choking her out Homer Simpson style.

"So can you help me m-" 

"Are you deaf?" you cut her off, leaning down on the island with both of your elbows.

Daryl chuckles softly, shaking his head at how thick headed the new girl before him really is.

You're a protective woman and you know what's yours. And he's constantly pleased as punch that it's him.

"Excuse me?" Leslie gripes.

Your husband jams his foot against the doorframe, making sure she doesn't step into your shared home because once she does… she'll really be dead meat.

"You fucking heard me. I know you did. My husband is busy. I've had it up to here with your little woe-is-me act. Bitch, we live in an apocalypse. If you can kill walkers, you can move your own goddamn couch three feet to the right without you having to saunter all the way across the community to ask Daryl. Just cause I'm pregnant doesn't mean I won't beat your ass into the ground." 

Daryl presses his lips into a straight line, cheeks puffing out while he tries to contain his laughter. 

"You're a fucking-" Leslie begins, starting to become pink in the face with anger and embarrassment alike.

"A bitch? A cunt? A really dumb whore?" you muse, raising your voice each time.

Your husband looks past the door, to see Rick and Glenn stepping up the patio quietly.

He's sure they heard your loud, nasty tone which doesn't come out too often and they're here to investigate.

"Let me tell you something, new girl. I've been really nice to you these past few months. I haven't talked to you, which is a kindness. I've had so much that I want to say to you but I'll start with this -- stay the fuck away from my husband before I hurt you." 

"Baby," Daryl coos sweetly, trying to calm you down.

"Daryl," you warn, holding up your finger.

"Yes ma'am," he murmurs, running his hands over his face to hide his smile.

It feels good to give this bitch what she deserves, it feels good to see her rooted to the spot.

"I am so sorry that Spencer's fucking is so lackluster that it has left you with some sort of needy imagination," you gasp, putting your hand to your heart. "But my husband is not the place to try and fill that. You've been warned about not messing with Michonne and Maggie because they're some tough bitches-"

Slinking around the island, you narrow your eyes at her. "-but I'm a bitch that will ruin you and make you wish that you were eaten by walkers before ever crossing me." 

Rick and Glenn sit down on the swinging bench outside of your home and Daryl raises his eyebrows humorously at them.

"I don't even know what you're talking about," she scoffs, combing her hands through her hair.

"Oh okay," you sigh simply, leaning back against the island counter and tilting your head. "Well let me say it again, just so that we're clear… Actually, no. My husband will say it." 

Daryl tilts his head to you, giving you a devastatingly handsome wink. 

"Daryl, do you want to fuck the new girl?" 

"No baby, I don't. I'm married to the only woman that gets me excited," he replies sweetly.

"Do you want to move her furniture or teach her how to whittle arrows or take her on runs miles away from Alexandria?" 

"No." 

You nod sweetly, tilting your head to Leslie. "Get off my porch." 

Your husband watches you walk off, down the hallway and to the bedroom before the door slams shut with the force of a thousand men.

Sighing happily, he turns back to Leslie. "You heard the woman, guess it's time to turn in for the night." 

He swings the door shut in her face when she opens her mouth to speak and he only chuckles when he hears Rick and Glenn burst out laughing outside the door.

He leaves the dishes in the sink, knowing he can wash them later. Striding down the hallway, he peeks into the bedroom only to see you laying down on your bed with your eyes squeezed shut.

He sneaks in silently, stepping to the foot of the bed. 

Daryl takes the opportunity to kneel between your parted legs and you peek one eye open to look up at him.

"What?" you grumble, closing your eye once more.

Your husband smirks at the annoyed tone of your voice, knowing just how easily he can change it.

He lifts your shirt, drifting his lips over your belly slowly. 

"I love you," he avows, running his hands over your hips.

"Are you sure you don't love Leslie?" you huff childishly.

He snorts softly, nipping at the skin of your belly until you're gasping above him.

"She ain't havin' my baby, she ain't my wife," he breathes, licking over your distended skin. "I don't want anyone that ain't you. You know that." 

You hum softly, rolling your eyes at the irritation that still sings through your veins.

"Bein' upset ain't good for the kid. You know that, Hershel told me." your husband whispers, lifting your shirt higher.

"Well I am upset," you mumble bitterly, watching his lips move confidently up your skin.

"I know, let me change that," Daryl insists, tugging your sports bra up and over your chest until your breasts are on full display for his eyes.

"Fuck, you're pretty," he murmurs, kissing over the soft flesh until his lips part over your nipple.

He suckles softly, moving his body to your side to make sure he wouldn't lean down too hard above you.

You try not to give him the satisfaction, wanting to be the brat that Leslie pulled out of you not too long ago but it's difficult to stay focused when his fingers drift up your inner thigh.

Daryl smirks against your skin, feeling how your thighs tense stubbornly and hearing the whimpers you desperately want to let out get smothered in your throat. 

"Come on now, girl. You know better than this," he muses, kissing across your chest to your other stiff peaked nipple.

You refuse to comply, looking up at the ceiling to try and steel your composure.

Your husband worms his hand in between your tightly pressed thighs. He chuckles softly against you, feeling how much of your arousal is slick on your lower lips.

Without warning, he enters his middle and fourth finger into you. His thumb rubs smooth, slow circles to your clit all the while curling his fingers deep inside of you.

When the pads of his fingers brush against the soft spot inside of you, your hardened composure melts.

Daryl hums in agreement when you whimper aloud. 

His fingers and his thumb gets faster with each second and your legs spread wider and wider. The sound of your arousal as he finger fucks you is so loud that it drowns out your own soft mewls.

"It was hot to see you give that girl what she deserves," your husband whispers, kissing up the thin skin of your neck. "I love you."

"I love you too. Oh fuck!" you whine, grabbing at his arm.

You can feel his muscles terse and flex with each thrust of his fingers.

"Come on, baby girl. Give it to me, daddy wants it," he murmurs into your ear.

It's fast and unforgiving, the pleasure that courses through your limbs. Daryl knows exactly how to get your orgasm trembling through you, he's been an avid learner of your body for years now and he's proud of how well he knows you.

"Daddy! Holy sh-" you sob out, burying your face into his neck when your orgasm rips through you.

Your husband groans gently at the amount of cum that squirts onto his hand and he pulls back far enough to kiss you slowly as you come back down to Earth.

"Feelin' better now? Not so annoyed now, ain't that right?" Daryl inquires, pressing his forehead to yours.

"She just pissed me off," you mumble, turning on your side and resting your belly on his torso.

"I know but she needed to learn sometime. Gotta put people in their place once in a while and I'm lucky you love me enough to get so protective of me and what's yours." he whispers, drifting his fingers over your distended skin.

When your breathing starts to get shallower and your body becomes heavier against his, he knows you're falling asleep.

You, the strong woman who's carrying his child, deserves all the rest in the world even if it means his arm is gonna fall asleep in no time.

His lips drift over your hairline and his eyebrows raise when his child earns his attention with a swift kick.

"I'm gonna just have to start callin' you lil' hellraiser, huh?" your husband coos, leaning over you to grab the lotion from the bedside table.

It's tricky to do with just one hand but he manages to squeeze a dollop of lotion out onto his chest, hoping to warm it up. 

With gentle, circular motions he rubs the lotion onto your taut stomach with a smirk.

Daryl can think of no greater feeling than this right now. To be safe in a bed, in a house, in a community with his wife and baby? 

There's not a word in any language in all of the world that could define this.

When a small patter comes from beneath his hand, he smiles.

"Yeah, I'll continue my story for ya," he breathes.

He shushes you softly when you stir against him, burying your face down against his chest. 

Daryl waits until you've drifted far enough into your unconscious state before continuing. 

"I asked your mama to marry me in probably the most unromantic way… ever. She doesn't think so but… I've never been romantic before her. She probably deserved flowers or somethin' precious like that," he reminisces, drifting his thumb over your protruding belly button while his memories sweep him back to times not so far gone.

"On your left," you hiss, pulling out your knife.

Your feet are slow, going from heel to toe in hopes to lessen the sound of crispy leaves underfoot.

Daryl turns sharply to his left, aiming down the sight of his crossbow and firing without a second thought.

The cougar you've brought into your family the past few days, hisses softly and Carl nods to where Salve is looking.

"We needa find a place to camp. It's getting dark," Rick whispers as Michonne chops an oncoming walker.

"How much farther do you think we have?" you inquire, stepping on the walker's head for your boyfriend to retrieve his arrow.

"Another day, maybe? We've been good taking it slow. The cat is helping us keep aware." the leader admits.

Daryl kisses your temple softly before setting his crossbow down on the ground and pulling back the string.

"There's a warehouse coming up, we can clear it and stay in there," Michonne notifies you all, pointing ahead.

Adjusting your leather gloves, you nod. "Me and Daryl will take first watch." 

Sitting beside your boyfriend, you pass him half of your canned corn. You lay your head down on his shoulder, the burning fire in front of you keeping the Georgia night chill out of your bones.

Daryl chuckles, passing you his can of beans. "Nice trade." 

"I need protein too," you quip, looking up at the broken roof of the warehouse to see the stars peeking through.

Your boyfriend touches his pocket and the prospect of asking you to marry him makes his hands start to sweat. 

It's ridiculous, really.

Society isn't even a thing anymore, there's nothing to stop him from asking you, no parents to get their blessing and yet -- he's terrified.

He doesn't think you'll say no. 

He hopes you won't say no.

Daryl Dixon was already living an apocalyptic life before all this shit ever went down. He was more than prepared for it. And now that he has a woman who he loves, who loves him back… it's like his life never really began until the dead started rising.

"Y/N," he murmurs, setting down the can of corn and drifting his hand over your cheek.

You look down from the stars, giving him a loving smile and the sweet tilt of your head that he adores.

"You okay?" you inquire, sitting up.

He looks behind him to make sure everyone is sleeping before clearing his throat.

"I'm okay," he promises, digging his hand into his pocket.

You move his long hair out of his eyes, staring into the cerulean orbs you love. 

Daryl is expressive. For a man that doesn't speak much, his eyes can tell you stories so far beyond your imagination.

You can see all of his love and care, all the euphoria that nestles deep into his bones when you're together. But you can also see a nervousness, an anxiety that doesn't sit well with you.

"I love you," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I love you too." 

Daryl swallows his fear as much as he can, trying to bury it deep.

"We live everyday as if it's our last," he begins, pulling his hand out of his pocket. "And I don't know how long we have together… We never know. But I know that you've made me into a man that I'm proud of. You've made me into somethin' more than the spineless animal that I used to be. You took away my hatred and my fear… made me believe in somethin', made me believe in love. And I don't want to go another day without you knowin' just how much I love you. Without knowin' just how much you mean to me." 

You smile softly, running your hands over his clothed chest. Your eyebrows wrinkle curiously and he smirks at the sight.

"I ain't a man that… knows how to do this. I've never had a girlfriend before, y'know. Never had a love life. But-" he opens his hand to show off the gigantic ring he plundered from the jewelry store yesterday. "-I need you to know how much I treasure this… Us… And even if we live for one day, two weeks, ten years -- I want to go out knowin' it was you. I wanna go out knowin' you were my wife." 

"Holy… shit," you gasp, widening your eyes and looking up at him.

You're stunned into silence, absolutely elated that he would be considerate enough to do something like this. 

"Daryl," you scoff, finding your eyes burning.

"So? What do you say?" he inquires nervously, holding up the ring.

"Yes! A million times yes!" you yelp, throwing yourself over him to envelop into a hug.

Daryl falls back to the concrete ground with a laugh, wrapping his arms around you.

You kiss him deeply, drifting your hands over his cheeks and he smiles into the kiss. 

When you finally pull apart for breath, you press your forehead to his neck with a happy sigh. 

Your newfound husband grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. 

"I love you, baby girl," he murmurs, turning his attention to Salve who pads over only to throw himself down on top of his stretched out legs.

"I love you too," you reply, closing your eyes and relishing in the comfortable night air.

Next Chapter ------>

Get Some Rest Taglist: @howlerwolfmax​x, @dunixxd​, @daryldixonstorm​, @shawtygonemad​, @riverscyberwife​, @gnocchey​, @fuseburner​, @lightning-butterfly​, @inthewindsomeho, @rayneill

[seijorhi]

This isn't a request or anything but I had a soulmate AU idea that I think you'd like.... And reminded me of Oikawa. Imagine you find ur soulmate from their name written on your skin on ur 16/18 bday, but.... You're blind. And dating Oikawa. And he /swears/ your name is on his skin... But when your birthday rolls around, he insists you don't show anyone else.... And starts buying you clothes to cover the mark.... And you hear him whispering about his mark to Iwa.... And you begin to worry. 👀

I know it wasn’t specifically meant as a request, but I took the idea and ran with it - I hope it’s okay!! 💕

Oikawa Tooru x Female Reader

TW gaslighting, manipulation, dub con nsfw, blind reader

Part II

Always

“You promise me it’s there?”

Are you sure it’s me?

Rich, warm laughter fills the air around you, and despite the tension gnawing away in your stomach, the corners of your lips twitch into a soft smile.

“You don’t believe me!”

He’s happy. Even gasping in mock indignation Tooru can’t quite manage to keep it from his voice.

He has every reason to be; you’re both home for the first time in a year and a half, settled in the well worn couch at his parents house, your friends sprawled out either side of you. He’s twenty one today and as of five minutes ago the proud owner of his very own soulmate mark.

Or so he tells you. 

“Well it’s not like I can see it,” you tease, nudging yourself closer so that you can rest your head against his shoulder and sighing loudly. “It could be Issei’s name for all I know, and you’re all just too nice to break the news to me.”

The choked snort from your left side makes you giggle, but not as much as the sound of your boyfriend fake gagging. 

“Please, he fucking wishes!”

“Iwa tell her!” Oikawa demands, and you can just imagine the way that Iwaizumi’s eyes must roll before he ultimately gives in.

He always does.

“It’s yours,” he sighs. “Unfortunately you’re stuck with him, Y/N. My condolences.”

Yours. 

It’s hard, even as raucous laughter fills the air around you and Oikawa turns to shout at his best friend, to deny the warm fluttering in your chest. The arm around you eases you closer, a thumb absentmindedly stroking at your side and you allow yourself to relax against him. 

It’s your name on his skin. You’re his soulmate. 

For the first time in weeks, it feels like you can breathe easy. You wonder if Oikawa knew, if he noticed the way you held onto him just that little bit tighter - like you were scared to let go.

You’ve loved Oikawa for as long as you can remember, but you only get one soulmate. Was it really so outlandish to wonder whether his first love would be his last? Whether you could ever be good enough to be his?

The little blind girl, always following at his heels.

For all your faults, you’ve never been naive. You know how amazing he is - Tooru has always been destined for great things and you were just his highschool sweetheart.

A hindrance, one of his very dedicated fans had once taken the time to inform you, clinging desperately to whatever scraps of pity he felt charitable enough to throw your way.

Neither one of you had realised that Oikawa had heard every damn word. 

—

“Can you just…”

Oikawa pauses, the hand he has wrapped around yours squeezes lightly. “Hmm?”

Breathe deep. Just say it. 

Tell him. 

You’re almost at the gate, your flight’s leaving in twenty minutes (and you would have been there sooner if he hadn’t insisted on dragging you through every overpriced store in the damn airport) and in a few hours, you’ll be home again. 

But it isn’t the thought of being back in Japan that worries you. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth, your heart thumping unsteadily in your chest. His birthday is in two days, and that’s when he’ll find out who his soulmate is supposed to be. And you trust him, you love him. Even if the name on his forearm isn't yours, it’s not like he’s just going to suddenly toss you aside like yesterday’s trash, but… things’ll change, you know they will. And you couldn’t even blame him for that, because how much effort can you really be expected to put into a relationship if you know they’re not the one you’re supposed to end up with?

The doubts you have, the ones that fester and play on your every insecurity, keeping you up at night long after Tooru has drifted off -  you’ve tried to shut them out and ignore them as best you can, but you just can’t get on that plane without having some kind of reassurance.

What if it’s not you?

“Just promise me that if…” your breath catches in your throat, and you try to force a smile on your face even though you know that it wobbles. “If it’s not- if I’m not-”

Soft lips press against yours, cutting you off. It’s only for a heartbeat, enough to get you to stop the panicked tumble of words you couldn’t quite get out, but for you it feels like it lasts a lifetime. You could lose yourself in Oikawa’s kisses, you think. Lose yourself and be happy for it.

A warm palm cups your face. “I love you,” he says, and it isn’t the murmured declaration first thing in the morning, his voice still thick with sleep as he rolls over to kiss you good morning, and it isn’t the cheesy, throwaway line he gives whenever you save him the last bite of the milk bread that he specifically bought for you (because god knows his coach would kill him if he found out he ate the entire thing himself).

It’s a promise.

“You are my soulmate,” his thumb strokes along your cheekbone, and you can’t help but lean into the touch. “You’re the only one I’m ever going to want.”

Standing on the outskirts of your gate, moments away from boarding the plane that’ll take you both home, you’re not entirely sure if he’s trying to tell you that he’s certain that the name on his arm is going to be yours, or that he doesn’t care if it isn’t.

Either way, it’s enough.

“You’re mine,” he breathes, and captures your lips in another kiss - this one brimming with ardent devotion, a love too deep for either one of you to speak.  

 —

Hours later, Iwa, Makki and Mattsun are all asleep downstairs and it’s just Tooru and you curled up in his bed. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that being back in his childhood bedroom did little in the way of curbing his appetite, but between giggles and breathy moans, Oikawa’s hand clamped over your mouth and his lips at your ear-

‘Shhh, you have to keep it down, cutie. Unless you want the whole house to hear all the pretty sounds you make when you’re about to cum for me?’

- he manages to wring four orgasms out of you before the two of you collapse back against the mattress, all sweaty and panting.

And you think he’s fallen asleep now, an arm slung around your waist, his face buried against the nape of your neck despite the warmth of the balmy summer night. With his chest flush against your back, you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart, lulling you gently to sleep with every beat. 

Soulmate.

This, here, in Oikawa’s arms, this is where you belong, where you’ve always belonged. And yet even with happiness and relief and an overwhelming love singing through your veins - keeping you wide awake - you can’t deny that it feels… strange almost, knowing that out of seven and a half billion people, you’re the one he’s marked for. 

He’d sounded so sure back at the airport, like there wasn’t even the possibility of doubt in his mind that you were the one for him. And maybe he was just saying it to calm you down and get your ass on the plane, but if the situations were reversed and it was your birthday first… could you really say with one hundred percent certainty that you knew it would be his name that’d show up on your arm?

You love him more than you’ve ever loved anybody else (more than you ever probably will love anybody else), it’s just that you’ve always known that the two of you were on wildly different paths. Tooru’s the starting setter for a pro volleyball team, and there’s already whispers of that national squad, Olympic selection.

He’s talented and driven and sometimes you wonder whether you ever would have left Miyagi let alone Japan at all if it hadn’t been for him dragging you along with him. 

You’ve always been so content in your own little bubble. You cling to what’s comfortable, what you know - all your life, you’ve been told that you’re not defined by your disability, but you’ve never tried to push yourself beyond it. 

With Tooru, you’ve never had to.

That girl, years ago - she wasn’t wrong. You do cling to him, like you’d clung to your friends and your family. And maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world, but when you compare what Oikawa has to offer his soulmate compared to what you bring to the table, and-

“I can hear you thinking from here,” your apparently not-so-asleep-after-all boyfriend murmurs in your ear. “Tell me what’s bothering my pretty girl.”

You sigh, rolling over to face him. It’s pointless to lie to Tooru - he can read you better than anyone else - but admitting the whole truth, even here under this little refuge of soft intimacy between the two of you, feels harder than it should be.

“You’re not… disappointed, are you?” 

The harrumph that escapes his lips sounds almost offended, but the brush of his lips against the tip of your nose is sweet. “How long have I known you?” he asks.

Your forehead wrinkles at the question. “Fifteen or so years, I guess?”

You’d only been six or so when your family had moved in the house next door to his, across the street from Iwaizumi’s, and you can still vividly remember the first time you met him - crying in your front yard with a scraped up knee - always too eager for your own good.

“Hmm,” he acknowledges, “and how long have we been dating?”

“Seven-ish years?”

He chuckles, kissing you again, this time on your cheek. “And how long do you think I’ve been in love with you?”

Your whole face warms, and you fight the urge to bury it in his bare chest, especially when he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair that had fallen out of place back behind your ear. “Tooru-”

He sighs again, the sound tinged with just a hint of fond exasperation. “Give me your hand.”

You oblige, and you feel his long fingers curl around yours, tucking all of your fingers but your index away and drawing your hand closer towards him. It’s only when your pointer brushes against skin that you realise what he’s trying to do. Still, you don’t offer a word as Tooru slowly traces your finger along the dark letters on his skin - his soulmate mark.

Your name. 

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Y/N. You’re mine, you’ve always been mine, just as I’m yours,” he vows, and you almost shiver with the intensity that burns in every word. “Any other name would have been nothing more than a filthy lie.”

Any further protests are swallowed up by another kiss, and your boyfriend takes it upon himself to show you exactly how much he adores you, over and over again, until sheer, utter exhaustion drags you to sleep in his arms.

 —

Your own twenty-first birthday is a vastly different kind of affair. For one, the two of you decide to stay in Argentina - Oikawa’s mid season and can’t afford the time off training to traipse back home again.

Which means that it is just the two of you alone in your villa when you feel an odd burning sensation start to creep through your left arm. It doesn’t hurt exactly, more like a warm tingling sensation that flows along your skin as one by one the letters of your soulmate’s name come to light.

The sharp little gasp that slips from your lips must have alerted Tooru - hovering as he had been for the better part of the day - because his hands are on your arm within a moment, flipping it over and eagerly dragging it closer for him to inspect. His own breath hitches in his throat, his fingers tightening on your soft skin and a tentative smile works its way across your face. 

People have told you before that your boyfriend is handsome - stupidly beautiful, you’d once overheard one of your old high school classmates bemoan. His voice certainly is, soft and pretty and lilting, warm like the first rays of the sun on a cool winter’s morning, though not without its sharpness. Oikawa always has had a wicked tongue. In your head, you picture a face to match, delicate, angular features, warm eyes and a grin that’s just a little impish. Trouble, but the irresistible kind. 

You wish you could see it now, watch your soulmate’s eyes widen with delight, or maybe soften with quiet awe. You want to see him happy, deliriously so, you want to look into those lovely eyes of his and see all the love that’s coursing through your veins right now reflected right back at you. 

He still hasn’t spoken a word.

The slow drag of a breath, shaky and too sharp, had your bright smile freezing on your face. His grip hasn’t relented, fingers calloused from years of playing volleyball digging into your arm almost painfully. The air between you two is still, he hasn’t moved, not so much as a twitch.

Unease creeps its way into your stomach.

Why hasn’t he said anything?

He’s never exactly been the strong, silent type, and you love him for that. Iwa often complains that his best friend likes the sound of his own voice too damn much (half heartedly at best), and maybe that’s true, but he never realised that it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. 

It’s different for you, not being able to see. 

You don’t exactly blame them for not understanding - how could they, really? Without your sight to help you, your other senses have to work in overdrive just to make sense of things. Tooru’s voice builds the world around you, imbues it with a spark, guides you like a hand stretching out through the darkness. It’s a gap in the void, a reassurance you cling to - because without it there’s nothing. You’re alone with only your thoughts to keep you company. 

So when he goes quiet like this, it’s never a good sign.

A lump lodges its way in your throat. Without your sight, his silence is almost impossible to read, but you can sense the sudden heaviness in the air, the tension hanging thick between the two of you. 

You expected dramatics. Tears, maybe, or a burst of affectionate cuddles and kisses. Gushing over your mark just as he had when his own had come through. Hell, you thought he’d grab his phone and take a thousand and one pictures just to prove to the world that you were his as much as he was yours - because you loved each other. Because you were soulmates. 

Is there something wrong with your mark?

“Tooru?” you murmur, the edges of your smile starting to slip as your panic rises. “I-is everything-”

“You’re mine.”

The clipped words are little more than a whisper, hoarse and choked. It takes you by surprise, making your heart skip a beat, the knot in your stomach tighten, yet just as that paralysing apprehension starts to take root, he clears his throat, and a laugh bubbles to the surface.

Slowly, like ice thawing, his fingers relax on your forearm, gliding up over your shoulder to curl around your neck. “You love me, right?” 

Your eyebrows knit together, but you nod anyway. “Always.”

There’s another shaky breath, and suddenly his arms are wrapping around you, drawing you into a tight embrace. You don’t fight it, still bewildered by the sudden whiplash of his tone.

His own heart is racing, you can feel it as he holds you against him. The question burns deep inside of your chest, a thought you don’t want to give voice to, but you can’t seem to stop yourself - it slips out before you even realise you’ve opened your mouth.

“It is your name, Tooru, isn’t it? You’re my soulmate?”

There’s a beat of silence, and Oikawa hums, resting his chin against the top of your head. “Of course it is, cutie,” he chuckles. “Who else’s name would it be?”

He takes you out for dinner to celebrate. You’d originally picked one of his favourite dresses to wear, a strapless white number with a pretty, flowing skirt that fell to your mid thigh, but Oikawa stops you before you can leave, passing you over an old denim jacket of yours.

“It’s cool out tonight,” he says as he eases it over your shoulders before you can protest.

You don’t question it.

—

He fucks you that night, hard, fast and unrelenting, holding onto you so tight that you swear you’ll have bruises come morning.

—

Oikawa likes doing little things for you. 

He likes it when you hold onto his arm and let him guide you around when you go out together (you do have a cane - it sits in the back of your closet for ‘emergency uses’ only). He likes to buy you pretty things, jewellery, clothes, little trinkets that remind him of you - spoiling you with every opportunity he can, doubly so now that he has a salary that affords him that luxury.

It’s not uncommon for him to pick out your outfits. For one, you can’t see so you kind of have to rely on somebody else’s help so you don’t end up a mismatched disaster, and Tooru seems to enjoy doing it. He likes seeing you wear the things he buys for you - lacy, soft and demure. 

He also likes it when people know that you’re his.

So it doesn’t strike you as odd when Tooru insists on you wearing his club hoodie over your dress the next time you go to one of his games. You might not be able to see him fly across the court, but you can hear the cheers, the roar of the crowd as they stamp their feet and chant like a battle cry when San Juan scores. You can taste the excitement in the air, and whenever your soulmate steps up to the plate to serve, you feel the rabid excitement of the crowd thrumming in your veins. 

It’s warm in the stadium with so many people crammed close together, you push the sleeves up without even thinking. It’s not an issue - it shouldn’t be - but when your boyfriend slips his arms around you, fresh from the locker room post match, it’s the first thing he notices. He’s tugging them back down before you can so much as offer a hello, tersely muttering something about you getting a cold when you frown.

There’s a tiny flicker of unease at the odd behaviour, but he’s kissing you before you can linger on it for too much longer. 

And if that’s all it was, maybe it would be easier for you to shove that niggling worry aside. 

But once you start noticing things - little, inconsequential things you would have just shrugged off before - you can’t seem to stop, and that tiny seed of doubt starts to take root, to sprout and grow.

Your friends stop calling by. Back home your social circle was pretty much limited to Tooru, Iwa and their friends - not that you minded at all, you love them all dearly, it’s just that you didn’t really have any friends of your own outside of that little group. When you moved across to Argentina and Oikawa started training for longer hours, dedicating himself wholeheartedly to his new team, you got lonely, sitting in your new home just waiting around for him to come back to you.

And it took a while, but eventually you started to venture outside of your comfort zone and lo and behold - even with your stumbling Spanish, you managed to make a few friends! Though you can tell that your beloved boyfriend wasn’t exactly thrilled by the burgeoning new friendships you gushed to him about, he’s never begrudged you them. If it made you happy, then he was happy. 

Lately though, they’ve been kind of distant. And by distant, you mean… well, nonexistent. They don’t come visit you anymore, when you call their numbers, it just rings out. 

You can’t even leave voicemails - there’s just an automated voice telling you their message banks are full. Regardless, not one of them has made the effort to call you back, and it’s not like you can text them to ask why they’re avoiding you. Life gets in the way, you know that, and sometimes people just drift apart but it’s like all of a sudden they’ve just dropped off the face of the planet. 

But when you mention venturing out into town one day without them while Tooru’s at practice, he seems strangely resistant to the idea. 

“I just don’t like the idea of you wandering around by yourself. It’s not safe out there for you, cutie,” he tells you.

The words are saccharine, as sweet as the kisses he presses against your lips when he coaxes your chin upwards. You love him, you do. And you understand that he worries - even away from the hustle and bustle of the big cities, San Juan isn’t exactly a crime free neighbourhood, but for the first time the strong, muscular arms that wrap around your waist don’t bring comfort. 

It’s like they’re a cage, locked around you and dragging you slowly down to the depths, and it’s driving you mad because you can’t figure out why it feels like that.

Biting back your annoyance, you sigh, forcing yourself to relax against him. You love him - this is normal, couples disagree all the time. “I’m not an invalid, babe. I’ve done it before - I can’t just sit around the villa all day moping all alone or I’ll go crazy.”

He hums noncommittally, his fingers trailing idly across your skin as he draws you closer still, and the conversation is dropped. 

Two days later, you find your cane snapped in two in the back of the closet. Oikawa has some weights stuffed in an old gym bag for when he can’t be bothered leaving home to work out - the bag must have fallen on your cane and cracked it when he put it back after his session yesterday afternoon.

An accident, it has to be. He’d never deliberately do something so petty, right?

And there are moments where you can forget the doubts that gnaw away at your insides. Tooru has always been a caring, attentive lover - the perfect boyfriend. He seems more determined that ever to shower you in love, whether that’s by waking you up with his tongue eagerly lapping at your cunt, bringing you home bouquets of fragrant flowers and cooking the two of you dinner, or just with the tiny gestures of affection - tucking your hair back away from your face, linking his hands with yours, the little kisses and compliments he lavishes you with on a daily basis.

When it’s just the two of you, lounging around on the couch, his head resting on your lap and your fingers carding through his hair, it’s easy to pretend that everything’s fine. The two of you love each other. You’ve been his rock, his biggest supporter right from the early days, and Tooru’s the one who drew you out of your shell, who makes you feel like you’re actually worth something.

That you’re beautiful, and loved.

It’s not until you come home one afternoon from an impromptu trip to the local bakery just down the road that all the little pieces fall into place, and you realise why.

The craving for something sweet was what drew you out. Truthfully, you hadn’t really thought twice about it. It was a short trip, one you’d made a thousand times before, and it wasn’t like the locals didn’t know you, wouldn’t watch out for you if they saw you about to unknowingly hurt yourself or trip over something. 

The alfajores in your hand were supposed to be a surprise, Tooru had been wound up from practice lately, more stressed than he usually was this late in the season, and you knew you weren’t the only one with a wicked sweet tooth. You’d just wanted to cheer him up. 

You hadn’t expected to come home to find Tooru pacing in your bedroom, muttering to himself, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to whirl around at the sound of your approach, snatching at your wrist and all but hauling you inside. 

You certainly aren’t prepared for the snarling, bitter words he hurls at you. 

And yet even as tears fill your eyes, a choked sob bursting free as he berates you for leaving the villa without telling him, Tooru clutches at you so tightly it feels like your arm’s going to snap. 

“You can’t leave me! You can’t - you’re mine!”

He doesn’t stop, barely pauses for breath, but those eight words hit you like a freight train, and everything else fades out into white noise. You can’t for the life of you explain how or why, but in that moment, you know with absolute certainty that the name on your arm can’t be his. 

Tooru lied to you. 

He’s not your soulmate. 

It’s all you can do to stand there numbly while your boyfriend falls to pieces in front of you. The angry yells and screams turn into wretched sobs, and suddenly it’s Tooru collapsing in your arms, clinging to your neck like it’s a lifeline as he sniffles against your chest, and when desperate apologies turn into desperate kisses and he starts to lead you backwards towards the bed, you don’t fight him.

He treats you like you’re made of glass, worshipping every inch of your skin, fervent declarations of love spilling out between kisses like prayers of the devout at an altar. He fucks you slowly, lovingly, moaning your name so sweetly as he searches for absolution within the plush walls of your sex.

And with his fingers coaxing at your clit, his lips dancing against yours you fall off that precipice with him.

You have no idea long the two of you lie there in silence, limbs entangled with one other, but eventually you register the warmth of his hand on your cheek, caressing it with a gentle kind of tenderness that makes something deep inside of you ache.

“You still love me, don’t you?” Tooru’s voice is quiet. Hesitant. It reminds you of the little boy you knew, the one who confided all his fears of never being good enough to you, desperately seeking the validation you always gave so freely. 

Your eyes flutter shut, another stray tear spilling down your cheek, and your heart breaks anew.

“Always.”

[hobipaint]

A Story Told On Sand

summary: The setting sun gives time for Jungkook to cherish his family.

↳ pairing: jungkook x reader

↳ genres: fluff, like so much fluff, established relationship, slice of life au.

↳ word count: 1.4K

↳ disclaimers: none.

a/n: A completely self indulgent Jungkook fluff drabble written at two at night haha,, I was really going through it. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt no. 14 - watching sunsets/sunrises, and for @btscreatorscorner June workshop- writing from a member's POV! a massive thank you to @jikookiekosmos for making the banner for me😭 and a massive thank you to @vaekth and @joonscore for bearing with me because I just kept talking on and on about this in your dms lol.

Jungkook leaned back, eyes shutting close as he felt the breeze kiss over every inch of his skin. The warm sunset was only just spreading across the sky, a bright yellow turning to a scarlet - as if the sun was blushing at the idea of leaving the sky, it's lover. 

"It's nice," You sighed, hands resting over his as you looked at the sunset. 

Jungkook looked at you, smiling, and hummed in agreement. "I like this scenario, you know. A sunset, the kids are playing in the sand, and your hand in mine. My day is coming to a good end." 

You turned to face him just as he lifted your joined hands to his mouth to leave a small kiss. You smiled, with your other hand coming up to pull your hair to the side, and Jungkook remembered why he fell in love with you all over again. He looked at you, your eyes sparkling in the deep orange of the sunset, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he pulled you closer. 

Kissing you never got old. 

His lips softly settled on yours, the feeling of them feeling right. Your scent- an unlikely mix of mint, from his perfume, and chocolate, from baking with the kids earlier today- filled his surroundings - and he didn't want anything more. His hand clasped yours, thumb tracing small universes over the back of your hand - universes where it was only you, him and your family. You other hand languidly traced up his arm, curling behind the nape of his neck to pull him closer. He felt you smile, nearly giggle, and it was only seconds before the two of you pulled away and just laughed. It felt good to be here. It felt good to be with you. 

The setting sun cast beautiful spells over the waves that were splashing and playing around in the sea, washing them in shades of burnt red and gentle yellows. The glimmering swell of water that leaped over the sand had your children squealing in delight, running away from the wave. You waved them over, watching as they ran helter skelter to collect their sand toys before running the two of you. 

Jungkook spread his arms out as his daughter ran to her father, not minding the sand that stuck to her body as she leaped on him - squealing in happiness at being reunited with her partner in crime. You reached over to ruffle her hair, eyes crinkling as your son walked over and buried his face in your lap, finally exhausted with the events of the day. 

It was a vacation for you and him - time to spend with family. There were so many highs and so many lows in your daily lives that it was exhausting, even if you loved your work - and you both needed that break, even if it was only for a weekend. Now, as he watched the waves crash into each other and then end in bubbles, he felt that peace he had wanted. 

"Tomorrow, we will go back to the city. Right, dad?" Your daughter sat up and spoke to Jungkook, his hand coming up to caress the hair that flew wildly behind her, settling it behind her ear. "Yes, my bunny. We're going back tomorrow." 

"Good!" She beamed at him, and Jungkook felt his heart swell. She took his palm, and he couldn't help but be amazed at how wonderfully she had grown up - he remembered when he would walk her around with her clinging onto his pinky finger only, and now her hand fit in the palm of his hand, big enough to clutch his hand and swing it while playing games. "I wanted to show you a drawing I had made for you and mommy." 

You turned towards your daughter while petting your son's head, fingertips gently untangling the heap of curls in his hair as he slept soundly. "What drawing, baby?" 

"I made a big girl drawing. Teacher had said it was really good!" Your daughter beamed, missing incisors displayed in a beautiful smile that strangely reminded Jungkook of your own -upper lip quirking in a way that he thought only you could, till his daughter first beamed at him. The thought made him smile.

"Really? I can't wait to see it then, bub. We'll pin it on the fridge too!" You cheered for her, her eyes widening in happiness and surprise at the sudden announcement. She jumped onto both of you, nearly knocking her brother off his mother's lap as she squealed again, screaming to the waves in the distance about how she loved her family. "We will be here forever!" she said, happily clapping.

After a few more moments of excited babbling - including a certain confession she had received from a classmate ("I promised not to tell anyone, but I didn't want to hide it from you! He said he loved me!") Jungkook's shocked exclamation at his baby getting confessions, you laughing, and her defending her 'friend', she was peacefully dosing on Jungkook's lap. His hand went to softly pat her hair, humming a soft lullaby - the same one he had sung to her for years- for all the times she wouldn't sleep at night. 

Eight years, and she still paraded up to him at night to demand the lullaby, and Jungkook would simply cherish that time as he would caress her head, wishing her sweet dreams and tucking the blanket in. "It's to keep the monsters away, " he'd hear her murmur everytime, and he'd smile before returning to his wife and son in the next room, softly patting his son's cheek, kissing his wife good night, and falling asleep. 

Looking at you now - your eyes paying attention to the two year old that had curled up in your lap - he held back the sudden urge to shout in happiness like his daughter had. That's what he felt. Overwhelmed with happiness. He didn't believe that he actually got to live with this euphoria in his life. One look at the three of you made him feel so proud, so responsible, and so loved - he simply couldn't put it all into words. 

Your head came to rest on his shoulder, and Jungkook leaned his head over yours, hands finding each other. You squeezed his hand tightly, and sighed - and he understood you. This silence, this time - it all meant so much for the two of you. 

"Once we go back, we're probably not getting time like this again, are we?" You whispered, letting the words fly away with the breeze. 

"Maybe. Who knows, I'll whisk you away on a getaway next week?" He smiled, and though he couldn't see you, he knew you were smiling, too. 

"Maybe? What about our daughter's annual day, mister? Forgot so soon?" You laughed as you spoke, punching his arm playfully. "I guess my husband is turning old already." 

"Hey!" Jungkook said, trying to fake his anger even if he couldn't take the smile off his face. "I remembered it, of course I remember! I had to learn the ballet routine as well!" You laughed again, the sound familiar and known to him- his heart beating a happy beat. "I twisted round and round, over and over, and nearly ripped my pants."

"Mmmm, and I didn't see you complaining after this baby appreciated you." Jungkook watched you caress your daughter's hair, then her cheek, and settle on the sand. "You went for it all the way." 

"I would always go all the way for her. And for this pumpkin too." He pointed at his son, and you giggled. "And for you too. You're my world, you know that?" 

You raised your head to face him, Jungkook almost complaining at the loss of your body heat right near him. "And you're mine. You, and our kids. You're all my everything." 

Jungkook's eyes softened, pulling you closer for you to rest your head on him again. You leaned against his chest, and Jungkook bent down to kiss the top of your head before leaning back to bade goodbye to the sun. 

"I think sunsets look the prettiest, don't they?" You marvelled at the sky, lush shades of warm orange letting hints of blue peak through as the sky prepared for nightfall. 

I think everything looks prettier when it's with you, Jungkook wanted to say, but he lets the babble of the returning seagulls fill the space. His hands wrap around you, letting his eyes look to the sky once again, awed by everything around him now. This was all he needed. 

"I love you," he murmured, pressing another kiss to his lover as the sun set upon the evening. 

a/n: I'm not really sure if this would be drabble length or fic length, but I'd like to think of it as a drabble. Writing this was really warm and comforting for me, so I hope that it gave you a similar feeling. I'd love to hear any feedback you have either as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! Thank you so much for giving your time to my work 💞 love, hazel 🤗

masterlist

[startanewdream]

Hello over here! Really very good everything you write. Do you think you could do something about a Ginny and Sirius moment? People often forget about their union

Hi, Anon! 🤗 I'm glad you enjoy these stories of mine!

There are lot of lovely stories about Ginny and Sirius talking at Grimmauld Place, so I went for an idea I had for a while but I couldn’t develop much (I’ll post the WIP-without-progress about it too), that is a Sirius Lives AU, in which, unlike what I thought James and Lily would do, Sirius would never wait patiently until Harry and Ginny get together.

So please enjoy this drabble of Sirius meddling with Harry’s (and Ginny’s) lovelife as the good godfather he is.

(Warning for some mild swearing).

Something else

There is an almost business-like expression on Sirius’ face as he sits in the empty space next to her. It doesn’t suit him at all, but Ginny’s teasing is lost when she hears the words leaving his mouth:

‘What’s going on between you and my godson?’

She blinks quickly.

‘What?’

‘You and Harry’, he says, indicating the only not-ginger boy in the party, currently talking to the twins.

‘I know Harry is your godson’, Ginny notes, rolling her eyes, purposefully ignoring any implication of Sirius’ words. ‘You don’t have any other’.

‘Only because Moony is being too stubborn these days’, Sirius mumbles to himself. Then he blinks, looking back at her with nothing but determination. ‘Now, stop stalling. You, Harry. Talking to each other all the time. Together everytime I watch. Teasing each other. Laughing. All those sparks flying around you’.

In another time, Ginny would blush madly at the idea of sparks with Harry; damn, she would blush even before talking to him.

But this is not the time she lives in. She has moved on. She can talk to Harry without any hidden purpose behind it.

‘We are just friends’.

He shakes his head.

‘Ron and Hermione are just friends’, he declares. 

Ginny looks away, slightly upset. ‘I know we are not best friends, but I really consider —’

‘No, you misunderstood me. You and Harry, it’s not just friendship — it’s something else’.

She smiles condencendly. ‘I think freedom is messing with your head, Sirius. Harry is just happier this summer, and —’

‘He is happy with you’.

Ginny sighs, not knowing how to answer. There is no denying that Harry is the brightest she had ever seen this summer, with Sirius’ being free at least; even the postponing of their plans to live together had not dimmed his happiness. He had spent most of the days in the Burrow, with Sirius always coming to dinner with him, despite the Order’s meetings or other business he had to conduct in the Ministry.

Harry’s happiness was contagious and overwhelming. Everyone was noticing it, Ginny knows.

But it can’t be because of her. Sure, they had been talking more, enjoying more moments together than they ever had before, but that’s only because they share the same humour (teasing Ron and Hermione, having a laugh about Bill and Fleur, even planning some pranks together), the same love for flying (they wake up before dawn somedays to watch the sun rising from up the sky, or then challenging each other with some trainings or just enjoying a race around the house).

It doesn’t have the hidden meaning Sirius is implying.

‘He is happy. Period’.

‘That he is. But it’s not the same. He looks at you as… as James once looked at Lily’.

Flush comes to her cheek before she can control herself.

‘Sirius!’, she cries, annoyed now. ‘His parents — this is not a joke’.

‘Oh, I am serious’, he assured her, smirking. ‘Harry is oblivious as a door, my poor godson, but he really seems smitten with you’.

Her heart beats faster. Ignoring it (and admonishing herself for this weakness), Ginny shakes her head furiously. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been drinking, but you are barking mad’.

‘I do bark sometimes, but right now, no, I’m pretty sure. Harry is usually very closed with his feelings, but when it comes to you… it’s an open book. James was the same, you know’.

‘No’ she disagrees, forcing herself not to look upset upon remembering it. ‘I’ve seen him with Cho — his first girlfriend? — and he is not like that with me. He was always shy and nervous around her’.

‘But you are not her, are you? And from what Harry told me, they didn’t date, it was just a crush. This — between you and him — is something else. It feels more real’.

‘No, you are wrong, I… I have a boyfriend’.

‘And?’

‘And I am over my crush on Harry!’

‘Are you?’

‘Merlin, you are annoying’, she declares, crossing her arms. 

‘So if he came here to declare his undying love for you, you would not care?’

‘I’m over’, she repeats. ‘I —’

‘Harry!’, Sirius calls him suddenly.

She can’t help it. With all this talk and her treacherous mind easily conjuring the fantasy of Harry kneeling in front of her (eyes shining, slightly out-of-breath, looking at her adoringly), a blush spreads to her cheek as Harry comes running to their side.

It doesn’t help the fact that Harry looks really gorgeous, having grown over the summer, his skin tanned after a short week at the beach with Sirius, and bringing with him the nice scent of his cologne.

‘We are on a discussion here’, Sirius says, ignoring Ginny’s glare. Harry is alternating his gaze between them, but she can’t really meet his eyes — for the first time in a long time. ‘What do you think of Ginny?’

Oh, she is gonna hex him. Sirius will rather face dementors again than her wrath.

Harry blinks, unsure. ‘What do you mean?’

‘How do you feel about her?’

‘Ah —’

‘As a chaser’, Sirius supplies calmly, a smirk on his lips that he doesn’t try to hide.

Harry lets out a breath, seeming suddenly relieved. Sirius winks at Ginny — see what I mean?

Shut up, she blinks back at him.

‘Ginny is great’, Harry declares, drawing her attention to him. He is looking at her, grinning, and it’s hard to resist the urge to smile back. That boy was really made for smiling; the world seems a better place when he does. ‘I’ve never seen anyone flying like you, truly. You’re fast and skilled and if you don’t show up for trials, I will have to come to the Common Room to drag you’.

She lets out a laugh; Harry seems glad with her reaction.

‘Trials? All these compliments and I still have to try out?’

His face reddens and Harry looks embarrassed. ‘I can’t show favouritism’, he whispers.

‘So I’m your favourite?’, she asks before she can’t control herself.

‘You are’, he admits, and now she can’t deny the admiration in his eyes — and something else.

Damn. Sirius is right.

She turns her head, just as Sirius gives one of his barking laughs.

‘Thanks, Harry, that settles our discussion’.

‘What discussion?’

‘Oh, I just needed to prove a point. You know, about how you feel about Ginny’s… quidditch skills’.

‘Why was that in discussion? She is bloody brilliant’.

‘Oh, I know. I am sure you two will have a lot of fun this year in… the Quidditch field’.

[quindolyn]

Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders​ 

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ pro!hero bakugou katsuki x reader → heal

summary: you’re bakugou’s best friend and work partner and you’ve been in love with him for years. after his girlfriend cheats on him you’re left to pick up the pieces.  tags/warnings:  hurt/comfort, fluff, angst with a happy ending, very minor injury (blood), cheating (not by bakugou or reader), unrequited love (spoiler but not really) word count: 3,804  a/n:  this was my first time writing any x reader. hope you guys enjoy it!

You loved Bakugou Katsuki. That was a fact that you had accepted a long time ago and you were now at peace with that. You had gone to school with him and once you both graduated you worked at the same agency. Your quirks were a good match so you had been working together ever since. When he started his own agency he took you with him.  

The thing is, you never told Bakugou that you loved him. He was always so focused you assumed that he wouldn’t want a relationship and frankly despite all the things you had accomplished you were self-conscious and it was hard to think Bakugou would ever settle for someone like you.

A few years ago Bakugou started dating. You could still remember the hurt that burned in your chest as you tried to play it off and tease him like everything was normal. You spent most nights crying yourself to sleep a few weeks after that day.

She was a civilian, who in your opinion was very unlikable. You knew it was petty and you should be more mature but there was something about her that felt off. You figured it was your jealousy. You recalled the time she had ended up in some trouble, you had been able to pull her to safety only. Not only did she not thank you but she gave you an attitude. You figured she didn’t like you because you spent so much time with Bakugou in and out of work. You could understand that to some degree but it didn’t hurt to pretend to be nice.

It was so much easier loving Bakugou from a distance when he was single, you could tell yourself that he would never date anyone or marry them and that being his best friend was the most anyone would ever have. If you could talk to him, joke with him, look after him from his side as a friend you were content.

With him dating the dull ache of unrequited love turned into a dagger in her chest, burning pain only intensified by any movement. You wondered if you should try dating around. Maybe you could find someone who liked you that you could fall in love with and forget about Bakugou. You never got around to it, every time you seriously considered it you thought it’d be unfair to whoever you dated. They deserved someone who truly loved them, not someone trying to put a bandage on a broken heart.

Last week you had caught Bakugou red-handed, a small velvet box in his pocket. Your heart dropped, you thought you had hit rock bottom but it turns out you could always go deeper.

“Is that what I think it is?” You asked, trying to play it off as teasing. You prayed he couldn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“Shut up, it’s none of your business.” He growled back but you knew it was just because he was embarrassed.

“I’m surprised I never saw you as the marriage type.” You tried to say in a nonchalant tone.

“We’re getting old. We have to settle down eventually.” He said. The words stung, you knew he meant them aimed towards himself but you couldn’t help the bile that rose in your throat. I would have settled down with you but now I can’t look at another man without comparing everything about them to you. Who could ever come close to the Bakugou Katsuki.

“Bakugou we’re twenty-six, we just barely became adults if we’re being honest.” You joked.

“Well, I don’t want to be an old parent.” He said, eyes scanning the streets for any trouble. Your heart dropped a little more.

You wondered if you were strong enough to stand by and watch the love of your life get married and have children with another woman. You wondered how long it would be until you had to find an excuse to move away.

“I’m gonna head home since patrol is over.” You said trying to keep your voice steady.

“You aren’t going back to the agency?” He asked giving you an odd look, sensing something off. You knew each other too well.

“No, I have plans later I need to get home fast. I’ll get my paperwork done tomorrow, boss.” You lied about the plans, you needed to get away fast.

It doesn’t get rid of the suspicious look on his face but he doesn’t question you further and you quickly make your exit, barely able to keep it together until you get out of sight. You duck into an alley as tears stream down your face.

You haven’t seen Bakugou today. That concerns you, he never misses work for anything. You can’t count how many times you’ve had to drag him home and force him into bed after he comes into work with a high fever. You make sure things are covered at the agency before heading over to his apartment. Your heart beats quick, he hasn’t replied to your texts. It’s hard to keep the worst-case scenario out of your head.

Knocking on the door to his apartment you get no reply. Pressing your ear to the door you can hear a commotion, fear grips you, and you almost kick the door down before your rational sense tells you to use the key he gave you.

Bakugou’s apartment is a war zone. Furniture is turned over, glass smashed across the ground. You can smell the familiar lingering scent of his quirk. You would have thought he had been robbed if it weren’t from the sound coming from the bedroom.

Opening the door to his bedroom it’s even worse in here somehow. Bakugou is currently smashing picture frames against the wall. It’s distressing to see him so upset and not have a clue what’s going on.

“Bakugou!” You shout hoping to get his attention but he’s blinded by his anger. You let out a huff of frustration before moving closer to him, grabbing his arm as he goes to slam the already mangled frame again.

You’re startled but not shocked as he turns around in the blink of an eye and grabs onto your bicep, fingers digging in you can feel your skin under his hand start to burn.

“Bakugou! Snap out of it!” You shout again. Recognition crosses his face and he looks a little more coherent. You’re waiting for him to say something but he drops to the ground like dead weight, his hands pressing into his palms. You kneel, careful of the glass on the ground.

“Bakugou? What happened?” You ask in a softer voice. He takes so long to reply that you wonder if he will answer.

“She cheated.” You can barely make out the words through his covered face.

“What?” You ask.

“She was cheating on me!” He yelled pulling his hands away, the anger returning. “She was cheating on me for months like it was some game. When I confronted her about it she didn’t even try to defend herself. She wasn’t even upset.”

“Bakugou, I’m so sorry.” Your heart is breaking but not for yourself, this time it’s for the man in front of you that looks broken. You realize that he has cuts all over his body from the damage done to the apartment. “C’mon.” You say holding your hand out to him.

He looks at you confused but takes it. You lead him to his bathroom, sitting him down on the edge of the tub. The first aid kit is under the bathroom sink, you had patched him up here before.

Returning to him you kneel on the ground in front of him. You begin cleaning the cuts that litter his arms, wiping up the blood covering his arms. You look up at him and his eyes look so empty as he stares at the ground past you. Your overwhelmed by the urge to take him in your arms but decide against it. No, you should patch him up first.

You put band-aids on the ones that need them and leave the smaller ones uncovered. You lean up so your eye level with him, he has a cut across his cheek. You’re careful as you dab at it with a cloth, he doesn’t react if it does hurt. You put a band-aid on it before looking him in the eyes, his gaze still on the floor.

It hurts you so much to see him like this, it breaks you. What you would give to have him insulting you about something dumb you did or yelling about how you left your coffee mug on his desk again. Anything other than the painful silence. You lift your hand and softly cup his unharmed cheek, his gaze slowly raises to meet yours. Your thumb gently strokes the skin there hoping that it will soothe him in any way he can be at the moment.

You finally lean forward and embrace him, pressing your face into his shoulder avoiding any of the cuts on him. Your arms circle around his torso and you squeeze him tightly. You wish you could hug him tight enough to put him back together. It takes a moment but he eventually rests his head against your shoulder and he returns the hug. His grip is tight on the back of your shirt and you know he’s trying to pull the broken pieces back together himself. I would do anything for you to make this pain stop, you think.

You don’t know how long you stay there, holding each other tight but eventually you decide you should leave. The last thing he needs is to be stuck in the apartment that he shared with his girlfriend, the one that was currently trashed.

“Let’s go to my place.” You offer. “You can stay as long as you want, you shouldn’t stay here.”

He nods and your stomach drops, normally he would protest even if he agreed with what you wanted to do. It made you feel sick that he gave in so easily. You nod back before standing up and going into his room. You grab a duffel bag and grab his clothes and other things he’ll need while away from his home. By the time you’re done, he’s standing there watching you wordlessly.

“Let’s go.” You say you take his hand in yours. You had known Bakugou for years and worked by his side for most of them, this wasn’t the first time you had held his hand but the conditions were usually different. Normally you were dangling off the edge of a building as he pulled you up or you were dragging him out of harm’s way.

Holding his hand now was different, you could actually take note of what it felt like. His hand was much larger than yours, the callouses on his hand rougher than your own. It was easy to pretend that the circumstances were different, that you were dragging him out of his apartment to your favorite place to grab dinner together instead of taking him home with you to help console him from what had happened.

The car ride is silent, he’s still processing everything that’s happened and you have no words to say. You know that he needs time to think about everything, you refuse to push him to talk. Growing up you had to if you ever wanted him to process his emotions but Bakugou had matured a lot as he grew up and you knew that when he was ready he would talk.

“Here, you can take a shower if you want or you can change into something less torn up.” You say as you press the bag of clothes into his arms. “I’m going to make us lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.” He says. His retort gives you hope that he’s beginning to return to himself and not the empty shell of person who sat on the edge of his tub.

“I doubt you ate breakfast, I know you probably don’t want to eat but I’m making food and you’re going to eat at least a little bit.” You say. He doesn’t argue again, he heads towards your bathroom needing no directions.

You’re glad that you went grocery shopping yesterday. Even more glad that you always make sure to keep the ingredients to make Bakugou’s favorite dish in your fridge in case of emergencies. Or him demanding that you make it for him, as he does at times.

He’s in the shower for a long time. You’re finishing up lunch and you’re about to go check on him when you hear the water stop. You’re plating up the food when he walks into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of sweat pants and a black shirt. His eyes are red but you don’t comment on it. You shove the bowl of food in his hands.

“Extra spicy, just how you like it.” You tell him as you grab your food. “Let’s sit down.”

You sit down on the couch in your living room eating in silence. Despite his denial of being hungry his food is gone in minutes. You grab his empty bowl from him to take it to the kitchen but before you can get up his hand is grasping your wrist. You look at him and his gaze is on the mark he left on your bicep when you pulled him out of his rage.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is raw and the guilt is clearer than day on his face. He slowly reaches towards your arm, his thumb softly glides at the edge of the minor burn.

“It was an accident.” You tell him in the most genuine tone you can manage, he’s been through enough the last thing he needs is to feel guilty for this. “Besides, I can handle you.” You tease trying to lighten the mood. Your hand covers his own on your arm and you squeeze it to emphasize your point. His hand drops back to his lap after a moment and you leave for the kitchen.

When you return to the living room you see him sitting there, he looks less empty but more annoyed. You figure he’s had enough time to process most of his feelings.

“How did you find out?” You ask, testing the water. If he didn’t reply you’d know he wasn’t ready.

“She left her phone when she left for work, I grabbed it to give it to her before she got out of the building but I saw her notifications.” He said. Pain stings in your chest for him, you can’t imagine how upsetting that would be. “She came back for her phone and I confronted her.”

“What did she have to say?” You ask.

“She acted like she got caught sneaking a cookie before dinner, she barely even cared.” He said, anger returning to his tone. “She’s been with him for six months, she said that she was only ever with me for my money and status. She wanted someone she could brag about.”

“Bakugou,” You said putting a hand on his arm.

“I guess it’s only fair.” He scoffed. “I never loved her either. But I’m still pissed off she made a fool of me.”

“You didn’t love her?” You tried to keep your tone even but it comes out like an exclamation. “Bakugou, you were going to marry her!” You nearly shout. Had you really spend the last year suffering while Bakugou dated someone he didn’t even care about?

“No, it was just convenient.” He answered. “The person I loved, they would never want me. I figured I should just get over it and move on.” His gaze is on the floor.

Your sick again, he didn’t love his girlfriend but he loved someone else. You really couldn’t win, could you?

“Bakugou, why wouldn’t someone want you?” You ask. How could he believe that.

“I’m loud, angry, and rude.” He says. “I’m not good at relationships, I just screw everything up. She deserves someone who will make her happy not burden them with their crappy personality.”

“Don’t say that about yourself!” You scold him. “You’re an amazing man, you’re strong and determined. Even if you don’t show it like other people you care more than most people do about your friends. You would go to the ends of the earth to help them even if you don’t admit it. You’re the best hero I’ve ever seen. You’ve matured so much since we were in high school, you worked on yourself and became a better person. I’ve been by your side for years, don’t you dare say that you aren’t good enough. If anything, anyone you date will never be good enough for you. You’re the best man I’ve ever met, you deserve everything you want in the world.” You take a deep breath after your rant, it takes a moment to realize how much you spilled out.

His eyes are off the floor and he’s staring at you in shock. There’s something in his eyes you don’t recognize but he doesn’t say anything.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” You ask, trying to steel yourself for his answer. Whoever it was you would help him as much as you could to get their affections. It would kill you to watch him fall in love with someone else but more than anything you wanted to see him happy even if it cost you your own happiness.

“It’s you.” He says and the silence is deafening after his words. At first you think you misheard him. You feel dizzy at his admission. This had to be a dream, there was no way. “It’s always been you.”

“I-” You try to speak but there are no words. Your head is spinning, the world falling apart around you in the best of ways.

Bakugou moves slowly, one hand holding your face like it’s delicate glass, the other reaches behind you and pulls you softly to close the distance. He leans in, a breath in between you, you know he’s waiting for you to close the distance. To answer his confession without a word. Once your brain processes it all you lean in a little too excitedly almost knocking your forehead against his.

You move your arms around his shoulders as your lips meet.

With one action the dagger in your chest is suddenly gone and the pain there melts away. You feel like you’re submerged in warmth, laying in a grassy field in gentle sunlight. You kiss him until your lungs can’t take it anymore. As you part you stare into his eyes, they’re filled with so much warmth and love it makes you tear up. You lean back in for another kiss.

“Bakugou-” You say as you pull back.

“Katsuki.” He says. You had used his given name on occasion but it always felt too personal, your heart couldn’t take it.

“Katsuki-” You repeat, it feels right now. A small smile lights up his face, it’s like staring into the sun. “I love you, I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

“Me too.” He replies. You let out a laugh.

“We really wasted a lot of years.” You said, nose brushing against his, arms still around him. It was almost sad the time you could have spent happily together but you’re too excited by the years you’ll get to spend with him going forward.

“We did, I’m not going to waste any more time.” He said before moving in for another kiss.

Bakugou stays at your apartment for two weeks before he mentions moving into a new apartment. With your heart in your throat you offer for him to move in with you, he doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

You help him go through his stuff, tossing anything that was hers but she hadn’t taken or things that remind him of her. You stand at his side as he tosses the ring he bought for her off a bridge even though you told him he should just sell it. He refused, not caring about the money and definitely wanting to avoid the shame of selling an engagement ring.

He didn’t love her, he never did but he still bares the scars of her infidelity. His self-esteem in a relationship was already low but some days it feels even lower when he things about what happened. He knows you would never do the same but regardless you still hold him tighter on those days and you don’t hold back any of your love or admiration for him.

Sometimes he feels embarrassed that it went on so long without him knowing but you reassure him that the only person who should be embarrassed is her. You don’t call him a victim, no he would hate that, but you tell him that he deserves better. You can’t hold back your smile when he says he already has better now that you’re together.

You spend your workdays out on patrol together, your usual banter filling the day as you fight off any villains who dare make a mess in you territory. On your days off you spend time in each other’s arms, basking in the happiness you finally found together or out on dates. Sometimes he drags you hiking even though you hate the bugs and other times you make him go to theme parks and force a pair of mouse ears on him.

It doesn’t take long for Bakugou to propose. Your relationship had been so close for so many years that it becoming romantic didn’t change much. You already knew everything about each other, you knew how to work with each other at your best and your worst. Making it official was a natural step.

Watching him tear up as you walk down the aisle is something burned into your heart and mind and you refuse to let it go as long as you live. Spending the night dancing, eating, and drinking with your closest friends who all were relived you finally got together was an unforgettable time.

You lay beside Bakugou, arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled together. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. You hold onto each other as if you would lose each other if you let go. You can’t get rid of the big smile on your face as his hands move lazily through your hair nearly lulling yourself back to sleep.

You love Bakugou Katsuki. That was a fact and you were more than happy to spend the rest of your life at his side not just as a friend or partner but as the love of his life and that made you happier than anything ever could.

[tumbledfreckles]

Stupid

For @flowercrownroman Prompt: Hogwarts Jily - before they were dating but while they were on good terms, maybe an interaction where James sticks up for her and she gives the "I can handle myself'' argument. 

Hope you like it!  (2.5k)

“Evans.” 

Lily kept walking, hoping she was far enough down the corridor that he’d assume she couldn’t hear him. 

“Oi, Evans!” 

Her pace increased, she was almost to the corner. Once there, she could duck into a bathroom and hide until the coast was clear. 

“Lily, I know you can hear me. Wait up.” 

Lily sighed as she came to a halt. Used the precious few seconds she had until he was upon her to wave her wand several times, feeling magic spread over her features, soothing her skin.

James was already stopped in front of her when she turned around, less than a foot away. “Finally, Evans. Where’s the fire?” 

“In the dungeons,” She did her best to smirk. Judging by the frown on James’ face, it wasn’t a great effort. “What are you doing? You’re not on rounds tonight.” 

She would know, given she was on duty.

“Kitchen raid,” James reached up to ruffle his hair, looking a bit sheepish. “Remus needed chocolate.” 

Lily’s features softened immediately, “He’s out of the Wing?” 

James nodded, “Just after dinner.” 

“How’s he doing?” 

“Bit rough,” James shrugged. “You know Remus, he won’t complain until it’s pretty much death’s door.” 

“Yeah,” Lily nodded. “Sounds like him. Give him my love, will you? And let him know I’ve got notes from Runes. Merlin knows, Peter’s probably aren’t any use to him. I’m pretty sure he fell asleep five minutes into the lecture.” 

“Sounds about right,” James said with a laugh. 

Lily felt her cheek start to tingle and frowned internally. The glamours shouldn’t have been wearing off that quickly. She mustn’t have focused enough when she was casting. Or there were too many in quick succession. Time to go, in any case. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your mission then.” 

James didn’t move, a crease between his brows. “Everything alright, Evans? You look a bit peaky.” 

“Yeah, fine,” Lily tried her best to smile. “Tired, is all. Shift’s almost over though.” 

He still didn't leave, though she willed him too. “Have you had any trouble?” 

Lily shook her head quickly, vehemently. “Hardly seen a soul.” 

“Right,” James looked even more suspicious. “Even in the dungeons?” 

His question was too pointed. Too knowing. Lily’s heart started to beat faster. “Guess I’ve been lucky,” she said carefully. “Quiet night.” 

“Lucky’s not the word, I don’t think,” James’ hand reached forward, toward her face. Toward the spreading tingle that now covered half of it. “Evans -” 

Lily cut in before he could start his next question. “What are you doing down this way, anyway? The kitchens are on the other side of the castle.” 

“I, uh,” James ruffled his hair again. “I saw you as I crossed the main corridor, I guess. Wanted to check in.” 

“I didn’t come from the main corridor,”  Lily had used a secret passage to get to this floor. One she wasn’t even sure the Marauders knew about. 

“Really, huh,” James’ eyes darted away from her, before settling back on her face. “I could have sworn I saw you.” 

“Were you following me?” Lily knew she was onto something when James ruffled his hair for a third time. “Why were you following me?” 

“I don’t know, Evans,” James’ voice was scornful, harsh, where before it had been light. The change made her blink. But his next words stopped her in her tracks. “Why were you talking to four baby Death Eaters down in the dungeons just now?” 

Lily paled, or she would have, had she not been covered in glamours. Glamours that were fading by the second, if the tingles that had now spread across her entire face were anything to go by. She took a step back, and then another. Used the wand hidden in the folds of her robes to surreptitiously strengthen the charms. “They were out after hours. I was directing them back to their Common Room.” 

James followed her, step for step. “And they went? Just like that?” 

“You say that like they wouldn’t listen to the Head Girl,” Lily lifted her chin in challenge. 

“That lot wouldn’t listen to me, and I’m a pure-” James cut off before he finished the word. 

But Lily knew what he would have said, “Pureblood? They won’t listen to another pureblood, even one that’s Head Boy, is that what you were going to say? They won’t listen to the pureblood Head Boy, so why would they listen to the Mudblood Head Girl?” 

“Don’t say that,” James’ teeth clenched, the tick in his jaw, always a sign of barely concealed anger, jumping out at her. 

“It’s just a word, Potter,” Lily gritted her own teeth, biting the inside of her lip to prevent any tears from falling. 

She’d shed enough tears already tonight. 

“You shouldn’t let them-” 

“Let them, what? Insult me? Degrade me? Put down my family, my home, my magic?” Lily felt angry, sounded angry, even though she knew she wasn’t directing it to the right person. “They don’t exactly need permission, Potter.” 

“Evans,” James took another step toward her. “What happened down there?” 

“How do you even know they were there? That I saw them?” Lily took a step away. “Were you spying on me?  I told you not to use that bloody map to spy on me.”

“I wasn’t!” he insisted. “I was checking if Filch was about, so I could get Remus’ chocolate, and I just happened to see the impromptu meeting outside Sluggy’s room.”

“And you thought you’d glide on in, save me like the white knight you think you are?” Lily wasn’t sure why she was attacking him. He’d clearly worried about her, enough that he’d come looking. It made her heart clench inside her chest, warmth flood her chilled body. And yet she was attacking him.  

Meanwhile the tingles had started again. It really was not her night. 

James hands balled into fists at his side. “I wasn’t trying to rescue you. I just wanted to make sure they didn’t give you any grief.” 

“They didn’t,” she lied blatantly. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.” 

“I know you can,” he was quiet. “That’s not what this is about.” 

“Well, great,” Lily started to turn, knowing she had seconds left before her concealment charms faded. “Off to the kitchens with you, then. And then back to the Tower. I never saw you.” She waved listlessly, not waiting for his reply before taking several hurried steps. 

“There’s blood on your hand.”

Lily froze, facing away from him. She looked down, realised that indeed her left hand was smeared with red. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s ink,” she said with a raised voice. “It’s nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing,” James reached out, pulling on her shoulder to turn her before she could stop him, her attention still caught by the blood on her hand. “Evans-” 

He stopped, eyes on her face, widening so comically Lily would have laughed if she hadn’t felt on the verge of tears. Tears of panic, anger and overwhelming bloody despair. It was extraordinarily clear that the glamour charms she’d cast had failed spectacularly and he could now see what she had been desperate to hide. 

“Lily, what happened?”

His eyes roamed over her face, taking in the swelling and no doubt bruising around her right eye. The blood that ran from her nose, still fresh, trailing off her lips, her chin. The painful welts of a burn that encircled her neck, in the shape of hands despite a wand having carried out the action. The rip in the front of her shirt, also smeared in blood from the large gash underneath. The blood had transferred to her hand when she’d tried to hold herself together. 

“Nothing,” Lily said. She backed up several steps, her eyes on his as he stood frozen. “Nothing happened, I’m fine. Worse than it looks, you should see the other guy. All that kind of thing. I’ve got to finish rounds, I’ll see you -” 

“Stop,” James had caught her before she could turn again. Before she could hightail it out of there, recast the charms and pretend this had never happened. “You are not fine.” 

Another step had her back against the wall. Nowhere left to run. She refused to meet his gaze, not wanting to see the concern. The pity. She focused on his left ear instead. “It’s nothing.” 

“It is not nothing.” 

“Leave it, Potter. It’s naught to do with you.” 

His expression darkened, “I’ll fucking kill them.” 

“No, you won’t,” Lily’s eyes flew to his now, as her hand reached out to grip his forearm, preventing him from following through on his words. 

“Evans, they can’t get away with this,” James looked as distressed as she felt, but for a different reason. “We have to go to Dumbledore.” 

“You can’t,” Lily’s eyes flashed, her hand held him tighter. It should have been painful by now, but James looked as if he couldn’t even feel her. “You can’t tell anyone.” 

“What are you talking about, Evans?” James shook his head. “You’re Head Girl. They can’t just do this.” 

“Exactly,” her chin lifted, her face set. “I’m Head Girl. No one can know.” 

“You’re not making sense.” 

“They bested me, Potter,” tears pricked at her eyes as she croaked the words out. They were tight in her throat, making a hoarse, rasping sound. “They bested me, and I’m the Head Girl. If they can best me, they can best anyone. No one can know.” 

“It was four on one. You can’t expect to win with four on one.” 

“That doesn’t matter.” He didn’t get it. She had to make him understand. “That part doesn’t matter. All that the students will remember, is that those cowards picked a fight with the Head Girl, the Muggleborn Head Girl, and they won. Muggleborns are going to be terrified, and everyone else isn’t going to want to cross them. Worse, they might join them, just so they aren’t next. We can’t let that happen.” She pulled on his wrist, urging him to agree. “James, no one can know.” 

He watched her for a long time. His eyes held hers, searching them. She could see the wealth of emotions flicking through his gaze as he processed what she’d said. Anger, of course, so furious, so raw it seemed like he was burning. Disbelief, reluctance, defiance. A general unwillingness to go along with her request. Sadness, as his eyes flicked over her again, concern and worry taking over his expression. 

Lily dropped her head before she could see the pity. 

Who wouldn’t pity her? She was weak, pathetic, a failure. She was meant to be a symbol of hope, a sign that the Death Eater’s were wrong. She was meant to be so strong, so powerful, so talented, that no one could ever doubt her place in this world. She was meant to be faultless, flawless, infallible. 

She had failed. 

A touch to her cheek, careful and timid, brought her back to him. James held her face gently in his palm, using his thumb to lift her chin even higher. He wasn’t looking at her face, Lily realised, as she tried to look at his. His attention was focused on her neck, his other hand bringing his wand tip to her neck. Even the lightest contact to the fragile skin made her whimper. 

“Sorry,” James muttered. “Just, hold still a sec.” Almost as soon as he’d finished speaking a coolness spread across her neck. It was a welcome relief, taking the pain away with it. 

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. He was closer than she thought he’d ever been before. It was almost possible to count his eyelashes behind his glasses, he was so close. 

“I’m not finished.” He used his thumb to move her head this way and that, prodding and casting in succession. 

Lily felt the magic wash over her again and again, and with each wave, the pain lessened. Her shoulders sagged in relief as the tension rained away with the pain. She felt his wand move to her stomach, where the biggest slicing hex had hit her, and tried not to react as he carefully pulled her shirt up, eyes flicking to hers until she nodded her permission, to see what needed to be done. His hand was warm on her skin, and despite the situation, Lily wasn’t surprised to find she didn’t mind his touch. 

Welcomed it, really. 

“Have I missed anything?” Her shirt dropped back down but his hand stayed where it was on her side. His gaze roamed over her again, finally meeting her eyes again. There was not pity there, only concern. Concern, and caring, and something else that she couldn’t quite name. She only knew it made her feel warm. 

Lily shook her head, “Think that was it. Thank you.” 

James shrugged, “You don’t need to thank me. I care about you. You know that.” 

“I do know that. And I care about you,” she attempted a smile. ”How things have changed this year.”  

“Not so far if you’re still trying to hide stuff from me.” 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she reached for his arm again, but ended up holding his hand. “I knew you wouldn’t want to keep it quiet.” 

He threaded his fingers into hers, squeezing even as he sighed heavily. “I want them to pay. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.” 

“You can’t,” Lily started. She reached up, pushing his hair back out of his eyes, off his glasses. “I don’t want people to think that I’m not every bit as deserving of magic as they are.” 

“You’re being stupid. No one will think that.” His fingers smoothing up and down her side, clenching on her hip. She tried not to shiver at the contact. He was looking at her in the way that made her feel warm again.  

Lily didn’t try to argue with him. Instead, she braced a hand on his chest, pushing up onto her tiptoes to make up the difference in their heights. With James already looking down at her, it didn’t take much to press her lips to his. The touch was soft, sweet, a balm to the terror she’d felt much earlier in the night. 

“What was that for?” James asked when she pulled back, dropping down onto her heels. He looked 

Her hand stayed on his chest, fingers curled into his robes as she smiled. “You said I was being stupid. Thought I may as well live up to it.” 

His lips twitched at both ends, “Kissing me is stupid?” 

She nodded, slowly, her grin widening. “Very.” 

James leaned down, so close their noses brushed. “Care to be stupid again? I could get on board with that kind of stupid.” 

“In for a penny, in for a -” Lily didn’t even get to finish the saying before James’ hand buried in her hair and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her firm against him as his lips captured hers again. 

[smoochkooks]

—chapter two: of peonies and broken promises

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: you are twenty-four, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous, just like it did eleven years ago.

previous || next 

Jungkook's apartment is an epitome of him.

Wherever you look, you spot a piece of him. A single, wooden shelf in the living room where he placed all his analog cameras, because he loves photography. The replica of Van Gogh's Starry night hanging just above the navy blue couch, because he loves art. White walls of his bedroom decorated with movie posters; among them the newest addition to the collection: French Parasite poster you remember him buying recently. He traded stupid amount of money for it and you'd scold him for doing so if you didn’t know how much he enjoys cinematography.

Staring at this back as he makes coffee, you almost forget why you came her in first place. It's trivial: the latest software update on your laptop made it work more sluggish for some unknown to you reason. Jungkook has always been good with technology (hence his degree in digital art), helping you fix things on your laptop whenever the issue isn’t too complicated for him to deal with it on his own.

You feel a little embarrassed, asking him for help again (as if he wasn’t installing a new antivirus software for you a few weeks ago) but Jungkook beat you to it, assuring you it was absolutely fine before you could recite a round of apologies upon entering his apartment.  

It’s just the way he is – the kindest, most selfless person you have ever met. Helping others seems to be etched into his brain for good.

“Here you go,” he says, placing a cup coffee in front of you. “I still haven’t quite figured out how the coffee machine works so I hope it doesn’t taste like shit.”  

You smile, wrapping your fingers around the cup. Jungkook is a tea person, something he most definitely took after his mother, who has a separate cabinet in the kitchen filled with various kinds of tea. That’s why it’s so funny to you that somehow he insisted on buying a ridiculously expensive coffee machine a few months ago when he moved into his new apartment.  

You wish you could focus on the delicate scent of his blueberry tea. You wish you could let yourself be overwhelmed by the aroma of your freshly made coffee. Anything.  

Instead, all you can process is the intense, nauseous smell of the peonies standing right before you.  

They’re definitely new, wrapped up prettily and ready to be gifted to someone special. Jungkook notices your lingering gaze, and clears his throat.  

“Soojin's coming later today. They’re her favourite.”  

He didn’t need to give any explanation to you. It’s his life, his girlfriend, his plans, her favourite flowers, her perfect boyfriend. You’re just you. Yet for some unknown to you reason, he felt and urge to mention it anyway.

“I didn’t peg you for the gentleman type.” you say to break the awkward silence. It’s anything but true, so Jungkook snorts in response.

“Aish, I always give you a single red rose for your birthday, Valentine’s Day and Women's day as well! And we know each other for eighteen years!” he reasons, somewhat defensive.  

You force yourself to grin. “I know, I know. I was just fucking with you,” He huffs and takes a sip of his tea. As soon as he does that, he regrets it, muttering “Shit, it’s hot.” under his breath. “Soojin's lucky to have you.” you add.

Despite coming off as a confident person on daily basis, Jungkook gets insecure too.  

You remember vividly the look in his eyes when he told you he didn’t deserve her. It was right at the beginning of their relationship, they were still getting to know each other and Jungkook couldn’t possibly understand why out of all the boys Soojin could date, she had chosen him. A digital art major who liked talking about cinematography and ate ramen at 2am in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.  

Back then, you wished he could see himself with your eyes. For you, he was far more attractive than any guy you saw on campus. For you, he was talented, hardworking, passionate. No doubt Soojin fell for him.  

But Jungkook was twenty-one back then. He lacked self-assurance he has now. It irritated you that he viewed Soojin as some sort of goddess who took pity on him.  Although a lot has changed since, he still could quite literally kiss the ground she walks on.  

You watch as a small tingle of blush covers the apples of his cheeks. Pink, just like the peonies standing before you. Pink, just like the flowers you hate so much.  

11 years ago

June was beautiful that year. You spent most of your time after school in Jungkook's garden, seated by the wooden table and doing your homework.  

His mother besides tea, loved planting flowers. And June was the month of peonies. There was so many of them, invading your senses with their sweet yet nauseous smell.  

Jungkook was scribbling something in his notebook. You doubted it was anything Math-related, judging by the quick and harsh strokes of his pen. ‘’Do you know Sana?” he asked out of the blue, startling you.  

“That new girl from Japan? What about her?”  

“Jimin says she has a crush on me.” he answered, his eyes still glued to the paper. You noticed he was sketching some anime character's angry face.

Your eyes involuntarily widened. “How does Jimin know that?”  

“Dunno. He told me he heard some girls talking about it in cafeteria the other day.” Finally, he dropped his pen and looked up. His brows were furrowed and he had a sour look on his face. “I don’t want her to have a crush on me.”  

At that, your heart started beating faster. You were just fourteen and yet already so stupidly in love with your best friend. “Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.  

You knew girls were checking out Jungkook here and there. He was a top athlete, had good grades and had grown at least ten centimeters taller over the year. He also had let his mother (and you) convince him to cut his hair shorter lately, getting rid of the emo fringe he was sporting for the past six months. Of course some pretty girl like Sana would have a crush on him.  

Somehow, Jungkook had always been oblivious to that, or at least you thought so. This was the first time he decided to talk to you about it.  

He sighed, looking away from you as if he was embarrassed all of a sudden. You could swear you saw his cheeks flush. “Because I don’t even like her. You’re the only girl I can stand being with.”  

Now it was your turn to blush. As best as you could, you tried to ignore the funny, giddy feeling in your chest. “You know you'll have to marry some girl one day, right?”  

“Then I’ll ask you to marry me,” Jungkook said and for the first time since he had started this conversation, he actually looked you in the eye. When he saw your shocked expression, he mumbled, “Maybe in like… ten years or something. Once we are out of college.”  

You snorted, nudging his side. Despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you regained your composure. “Do you think I will put up with your for that long?”  

“We know each other since we were six and you haven’t run away yet. Besides, I’m the only boy you aren’t scared to talk to.”  

“Hey! That’s–Maybe it’ll change in the future! Maybe–��

Jungkook ignored you and instead thrusted his pinky finger in your direction. You stopped speaking right away. Pinky promises held little significance yet for some reason, you felt like it was a serious situation. And if the determined look on your best friend's face was anything to go by, he thought the same.

“If we don’t find anyone worth giving our heart to by the time we are twenty-five, let’s get married. Promise?”  

You were astonished, to say the least, staring at this hand with wide eyes. You were only fourteen back then and to hear something like that from the boy you loved was like a teenage dream come true. You replied with blind devotion. Because there was only one, good answer to such question.

“Promise.”

You are twenty-four now, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous.  

[hanibalistic]

#758A87 | LEE JENO.

genre | fluff, domestic au, platonic love

word count | 1652

warning | none​

note | i am back to advocate for peeling oranges for each other. also, yes, i may be writing a little nct but don’t count on it.

the way jeno kicked off his shoes and begrudgingly walked past you to go to his room told you that he was rejected.

there was this girl who he has been going on and on about for a while now. he kept it to himself fairly well in the earlier stages of his crush, but you caught on anyway after noticing the cues he dropped here and there—smiling at his phone, mentioning her name in and out of conversations, and mostly jaemin's constant teasing. after he came clean to you about his occupied affection, he fully allowed himself to express how ever-growing his feelings were.

although there were times when you felt an overwhelming urge to shut him up (for someone who talks so little, jeno sure talks a lot in the comfort of your shared apartment), ultimately you were happy to see that he has a reason to be so giddy and happy all the time. she makes him talk like nobody can, she makes him beam and coo, and you were grateful that this unknown girl could bring the best out of your friend.

occasionally, though, when you watch the way his eyes light up in the mention of the girl, you would feel a cold breeze of loneliness for the absence of a companion of your own. you were not in love, and neither was anyone in love with you, and there was a deep hollowness in the absence of affection, whether one-sided or reciprocated, that made you feel an unexplainable desperation to find love without being in need of it.

you turned away from your laptop that you set on the coffee table when you heard footsteps trailing out to the living room. water still dripped past his skin, showing that he didn't bother to dry himself thoroughly after the steaming hot shower he just took. his blue hair dripped wet and the towel around his shoulders was the only thing catching the rainfall from his head.

jeno moved slow and depressed, his eyes not a trace of glow in them and his jaw tightly gritted. he bent down to pick up the shoes he kicked off in a moment of a tantrum when he got home, but his fingers were flailing as if he has no will to do anything but lay on his bed and reflect on his entire love life—how it started, how much he loved the girl who broke his heart, where it went wrong, and what the hell was so bad about him that she didn't love him back?

you pouted slightly in awkwardness when he resulted in placing his shoes near the wall instead.

oh lord, he totally got rejected. that was not the worst thing but the fact that you never knew how to deal with someone heartbroken. you never had to go through it yourself, neither were you ever placed in a situation where someone else needed your comfort.

what could you do? distract him by giving him tasks to do? let him vent his emotions out to you even though he has always been quiet about his negative feelings? be insensitive and remind him there were bigger problems than being dumped?

what if he didn't need it, though? do heartbroken people truly need their hearts to be mended at all? if the heartbreak is the only thing left of whom they used to love, do they truly want to get rid of it?

"jeno."

annoyed but kind, jeno looked up from the cracks of the wall to you. he was upset, but he thought it unfair to take it out on you. your wide eyes glanced back at him when he stood up straight again, and you flashed him a tight smile as you raised your hands to him. he looked at the oranges sitting comfortably on your palms, and internally, he sighed.

"can you peel these oranges for me?" you asked as you usually would, sounding occupied but also free.

jeno really could not be bothered with doing anything. he just got rejected by who he thought was the love of his life; he felt confident this morning, especially after you helped fix up his hair and pick his outfit, as well as jaemin's encouraging words, only to have his expectations crumble with a simple answer. some part of him felt humiliated and stupid for choosing this route, for thinking that he had a chance, and he really cannot be bothered at all.

"[name], i'm sorry but i really don't feel like doing anything right now," he confessed lowly.

he was about to turn to leave when you called him again, much more urgently this time but still with a hint of dragging laziness in your tone.

"ah–jeno, please?" you pleaded in a faint childish whine, squeezing the oranges in your hands. "just one orange? please, jeno?"

he almost rolled his eyes when he turned to face you, but the softness that erupted in his chest at the sight of you sitting on the floor, oranges in your hand, stopped him from letting you see his annoyance. his hammering brain relaxed when he saw you put one orange down and attempted to peel the other one with trouble.

he sighed with unknown but familiar endearment when your thumb tore right through the fruit, sprouting juices over your once clean hands, and a gentle defeat once again rushed over him when you frowned up at him with the failure in your hands and a pleading glint in your eyes.

the softness in his heart—he never thought much about it. much of his affection for you was platonic, he believed, but they were also affection that seemed to trump the ones he felt for the girl he loved whenever they rush to the nape of his neck. the feelings he has for you often seemed to trump all else when he was confronted with them blatantly, such as now, and he could do anything.

he could do anything. he could declare that you are one of his best friends, maybe he could tell you he loves you, but mostly he could brush away his sadness to peel you an orange if you asked.

"jeno..."

"okay, okay," he said as he crouched down next to you and took the untouched orange from the table.

at some point, he lost his balance and he ended up sitting down next to you. he skillfully ripped the skin off the orange, carefully and precisely revealing the tasty fruit inside. meanwhile, you struggled freely with your destroyed orange by taking apart the slices and popping them into your mouth.

"oh, try it, this is good."

jeno looked up briefly when you spoke. he opened his mouth so you could feed him the orange slice, and he raised his brows in approval. you grinned, taking note that you should get more of the same ones next time you go buy groceries to stock up.

there was a moment of silence where you focused on the television and jeno on the last bit of orange slices in his hands. when he was done, he reached over to the coffee table and dumped them on the tissue you laid on top. when he was done, he dusted his hands and hoisted himself off the floor, just before you spoke again.

"you got rejected, didn't you?"

jeno pursed his lips, the sorrow rushing over him once again after having forgotten about it. he nodded. "yeah."

you turned your head to look at him. jeno felt self-conscious under your gaze. he never did so, but it felt like you were accessing what was wrong with the way he looked.

"maybe it's your blue hair," you said, pointing at his head and a playful laugher hanging on your lips. "maybe you reminded her too much of sonic, like the hedgehog, so she said no–"

"you are not funny." he smiled patiently but humorlessly.

"i am trying my best!" you exclaimed, then you leaned back against the edge of the couch and asked to the ceiling, "are you sad?"

"yeah."

"okay then," you muttered, then you laid your head on his shoulder and huffed. "how about now?"

jeno choked on a short laugh, in disbelief yet he was kind of used to your way of comforting people, but his heart beat softly against his chest at both the proximity and your discreet care. if anything, he would have preferred your way than the way of talking and reaching into the cave of his emotions. mainly because the latter does nothing but make him realize how much he missed with just one rejection.

at least with your head on his shoulder, he remembers he has friends, a companion. he has someone he has a soft spot for, someone he can put all his abandoned love for in the meantime as he searched for another lover, someone who can make him bother when he feels like he can't anymore.

"maybe a little less," he whispered, smiling to himself.

"okay..." you reached your hand to him, an orange slice in your hand, "care for an orange?"

jeno laughed, but then he grimaced with a choke of disbelief when he saw the monstrosity in your hands.

"[name]! i said peel the orange not kill it!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide at how sticky and wet your hands have become from just peeling the orange.

"i told you i just can't do it!" you laughed incredulously, shrugging and popping another orange slice into your mouth. "this is why i have you."

jeno rolled his eyes in defeat, but he denies nothing of it. 

you are where he puts his love into for now, you are who holds half of his soul for now. you are who he is willing to peel oranges for, maybe not just for now but for the rest of his life.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hello I was wondering if you could make another part to Sky / ice fairy reader fic

Intertwining // part two  

Pairing: Sky x reader

=================================

Sky held onto his Princess for dear life. His heart felt as if it could burst - whether it be from happiness that he’d have more days with her by his side, or from fear of losing her as those days unravel the truths he wished remained buried.

Seeing her up in the air, encased in a glow with actually fairy wings astounded him, but no matter how enchanting and awe worthy she was, it also meant more danger for her. More danger meant less peace of mind for Sky, especially now when he could face his heart is no longer his and hers was in the palm of his hand.

“Sky?” She wakes, parched and disoriented yet she easily picked up on his scent. Sky’s warm arms were hard to mistake for anyone else’s too. It felt safe for Y/N, he felt like home.

“It’s alright. I’m here”, Sky whispers, afraid of spooking her if he spoke any louder. 

Sky never imagined there was something greater than life - than the moment your heart is beating soundly, but if there was something out there, Sky believed it would feel the way he feels now - as if he’s broken but she pieces him together. Bit by bit, she heals Sky and he does the same for her. She loves him either way - broken or not, he’s the only reason why she has the strength to face another day and she’s the only reason why he cares to get out on the field and train. If he’s to protect her, he has to do better. 

A soft smile lights up her face, erasing the weariness she initially displayed and it is then when Sky realizes it’s he who brought it out of her - he’s the reason why she smiles. 

“My hero”, she blinks slowly, her long eyelashes framing her pretty eyes so perfectly that Sky could hardly breathe when she looks at him like that. Perhaps that’s the reason why he loves it when she does gaze upon him in such a way - because it means he’s finally found someone worth losing his breath over.

“I believe you’re the hero, Princess”, Sky smiles fondly, brushing his nose against hers. Her cheeks are suddenly kissed pink like a spring rose, the blooming color so cute against her skin. She looks away and Sky remains quiet, just smiling to allow her time to compose herself, fighting back the chuckle that wants to break out from deep within his chest, because what happens next he's going to want to remember for a long time, so while his gaze is soft he doesn't drop his eyes for a moment.

Looking back at his ocean blue eyes, Y/N licks her lips before speaking once again, “I love you, Sky. With my whole heart. And I want you to know that, always.” Cupping his cheek, her lips twitch as if she’s looking for the right words to say, “To be around you is like finally not being alone - as if all my life I've been isolated. But you’re here now and I feel like I’ve found a safe place to rest my head.”

“You’ll always have me”, Sky reassures her, his voice cracking.

“And you’ll always have me. If you fall, I’ll be there to help you get back on your feet. I’ll be your strength if you’ll be mine.” Gripping his shirt tighter, Y/N’s eyes flicker to Sky’s lips. “You’re my wonderwall. You’re my once in a lifetime.”

Swallowing thickly, Sky leans in. “I’m yours. I’ll be yours until my dying breath.” 

Before Y/N has a moment to react, Sky’s lips are upon her quivering ones. They are bound in a kiss that is so tender the world should stop on its axis and take note of their love. And as they part, Sky can’t help but gasp as Y/N opens her eyes - the same icy glow returning his gaze.

“What?” Y/N’s face falls, noticing the slight inkling of terror breaking through Sky’s attempt of a poker face. “Sky, tell me.”

“We need to see headmistress Dowling.” Sky murmurs, rolling out of bed so quickly that Y/N felt her skin turn colder in an instant. 

Standing up, Y/N rubs her forehead as Sky runs around the room in an attempt to get dressed quickly. “Why is it so cold?” She wonders, unsure why she’s bothered by it. She’s used to the cold, it’s been part of her nature since birth. She never really understood cold until she had felt the ice running through her bloodstream the night before.

Sky stops, looking at her with eyes slightly wider than usual, his panic lessening once he looks at her again and the glow is gone. Her warm eyes are looking back at his and the urge to hug her overwhelms him as he crosses the distance between them in strides. He pulls her against his chest, arms wrapping around her so firmly she could hardly breathe. 

“Sky? You’re scaring me.” She tries to push against him just as the door busts open and they both jump in fright.

“Bloom?!” Y/N furrows her eyebrows at the redhead, “What are you doing here?”

Shaking her head, Stella steps beside Bloom and now Sky’s confused too. Thankfully Stella isn’t afraid to tell them the truth.

“No time for explanations, my mom is about to arrest Silva.”

“What?!” Sky breathes out, his legs nearly giving out. Y/N wraps an arm around his waist immediately, holding him up. 

“And there’s more.” Stella pauses, glancing at Y/N as if to warn her she’ll have to be strong now - strong for both herself and Sky. “There are a few surprise guests you’ll both have to see. So come along.”

Sharing a worried look, Sky nods at Y/N before his hand slips into hers; fingers intertwined, they step out of the room with only one certainty - no force in this realm or any other could ever keep them apart.

PART 4

[nerdflash]

Lights, Camera, Action

A/N: It’s been a long time since I wrote anything and posted it here. I’ve been reading some great fanfics since coming back and I’m overwhelmed to even think there was a time, I had people asking me to write things for them. No one asked for this, but I’ve been feeling inspired. I’m thinking of making it a little series so let me know your thoughts and if you want more.

Synopsis: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader. You’ve been working on the set of a new film Tom is in, and the two of you have hit if off and seem to spend a lot of time talking in between takes. Your feelings are beginning to grow for him, but you’re unsure if Tom feels the same way.

Word Count: 1.3k

Mentions: Social media, a mention of being followed and one mention of a sex dream.

PART ONE - On Set Favourites

You’re stood next to your manager Vanessa, who, since you started the job, has treated you like an equal and a friend. 

“So if you could oversee the evening shoot tomorrow and organise any logistics, I would owe you one.” You tilt your head and smile. Vanessa has a second date set up with a guy she’s been sweet on for a while. You can’t possibly say no. Besides, you love your job so much and have worked so hard to get where you are, that you’re willing to put the time in.

“You don’t owe me anything, just promise tell me all the details.” She smiles at you and nods her head, her eyes glancing behind you before meeting your face again.

“Oh I will, besides...Tom’s shooting tomorrow and he’s walking over here right now. Have fun.” You feel your cheeks flush and don’t have time to say anything as Vanessa walks away, a mischievous grin on her face. You turn around and see Tom smile at you.

You can’t help but smile back, it’s hard not to when his whole smile lights up the room. You push a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he reaches you.

“Hey Y/N.” The way he says your name makes your stomach fill with butterflies. Despite being British yourself, his accent is so much cuter than yours.

“Hey Tom...How are you doing?” His eyes soften and he nods his head.

“I’m good...So...Is it true you’re overseeing tomorrow’s shoot?” You nod your head and cross your arms over your chest, a playful tone to your voice.

“That’s right Mr Holland, is there something wrong with that? Because I can speak to Vanessa and change…” He laughs and shakes his head, taking a step closer to you.

“No, no...I just wanted to ask. Besides...You know you’re my favourite.” You blush and roll your eyes.

“You’re just sweetening me up, so I bring you Starbucks aren’t you?” Tom has the good grace to laugh and look mock offended.

“I am not sweetening you up for a coffee!” He pauses a beat and then says “I’m sweetening you up for a muffin too.” You laugh and the two of you walk to the catering table.

“So, any plans for the weekend?”  You pour the two of you a coffee and pass a cup to Tom, shaking your head.

“Honestly. I think after the shoot tomorrow, I’ll just want to stay in bed for a week. But, realistically, I should probably start looking for a new place a bit closer to work.” Tom takes a sip of coffee and eyes you over the cup.

“Room mate still being difficult?” You nodded your head and lean your butt against the table. 

“Yeah, she woke me up 2am last night having an argument with her “boyfriend” then I had to endure them having loud sex till 3am!” Tom sighs and shake his head.

“I’m sorry, listen, I could ask around, see if anyone is looking. Maybe point you in the direction of some areas where you don’t feel so on edge walking from your car.” You’d told Tom about the time some weird guy followed you from your car and loitered about the entrance of your building. It had shaken you up pretty bad and for the rest of the week, Vanessa had called you and stayed on the phone until you’d gotten in your apartment safely.

“Thank you, though nowhere too expensive right? We’re not all blessed with the looks and talent to be in front of the camera.” You nudge him with your elbow and he grins and looks at you.

“You think I have looks?” You laugh shaking your head,  your cheeks flush.

The thing about Tom though, is he’s genuinely this friendly and talkative with everyone, so you know you shouldn’t read too much into the flirty comments. But recently the initial feelings of just finding him really easy to talk to, confide in and laugh with, have changed. You’ve found yourself thinking about him more. When you get home after a long day, you find yourself scrolling through his Instagram and resisting the urge to like all of his photos and videos. You’d even recently had a sex dream about him and the memory suddenly makes your palms sweat.

“Are you ok Y/N? You look a bit flustered.” Tom’s face is etched with concern. You shake your head and take a step back, your hand coming to the walkie talkie fastened to the hip of your jeans.

“Uhh yeah, I just remembered that I have to…” You walk away leaving Tom confused and leaving yourself feeling annoyed at being so hung up on a guy, that is being nothing more than friendly.

- 

You sit back in the chair and stifle a yawn, stretching your arms above your head, you close your eyes and tilt your neck, trying to work out the tension. Tom’s voice pulls you from your reverie.

“I thought you might like this.” You open your eyes slowly as Tom leans forward and places a steaming cup of coffee in front of you. You wrap your fingers around the mug, savouring its warmth and smile softly at Tom.

“Thank you.” He nods and pulls a chair up, sitting down, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“You’re welcome. I figured you needed it, I know I did.” He takes a sip from the cup and sits back in his chair. His eyes looking forward and watching the lighting guys, set up for the next scene. He seems a little, distracted and your brows knot in concern. Leaning forward, you say softly.

“Hey, Tom...Are you ok?” He lets his head fall back as he takes a deep sigh, before slowly looking over at you.

“I just...I just sometimes I wish I was better at all of this.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Tom gestures at the set with his hand and leans forward in his chair.

“I just...Worry, I guess. Like I feel so blessed to have landed Spider-man, but I just worry no one will see past me as Peter Parker, you know? I know I shouldn’t complain, because I know how lucky I am, but I want to be versatile, not just seen as a teenager. I always worry doing projects like this, that I won’t be taken seriously.”

You reach over and tentatively place your hand on Tom’s knee, his eyes fall to your fingers before meeting your eyes. 

“I take you seriously. I know it doesn’t count for much but...Like honestly, I’ve been watching your scenes in this film and I’ve been blown away. When you shot that scene the other day and your character started crying, I had tears in my eyes. You’re so, so good. Both as an actor and a man.” You can’t decipher the way Tom looks at you, because he places his hand on top of yours and you feel as though you’re falling.

“Do you really mean that?” His eyes are big and sincere. You nod your head and smile at him softly. 

“Every single word Mr Holland.” He grins at you and gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You savour the feeling of it for a moment, before pulling it away slowly and taking a sip of your coffee.

“Thanks y/n...And what you think does count to me.” The pair of you hold each others gaze for a moment before Tom coughs, his eyes shining playfully.

“So...Still planning to spend your weekend in bed?” You raise your eyebrows at him. 

“Why do you make it sound much more exciting than it will be? But yes, I am...Ooh, apart from one apartment viewing in the afternoon, thanks to one of your contacts.” His face lights up.

“That’s great news...Let me know how you get on.” And before you realise he’s reaching over, grabbing your phone and putting his number in it. He stands up and passes it back.

“Text me.” With that he walks away towards the set and you look down at your phone and see he’s saved his number under “My Favourite” And once again, you find yourself wondering if Tom is just being friendly or flirting.

[bibbykins]

Tandem Heartbeats and Close Calls

A/N: Hi everyone! I had started this little drabble forever ago and recently finished it in a half-asleep stupor, so I hope you can forgive the quality. It’s not my best work, but I do want to give the time I spent finishing it justice by posting. Also, I know a ton of people want some sort of part two or continuance for Embroidery, and I do too, so until I can muster a proper part-two, please enjoy this drabble... which is also me committing myself to a series of fight/make up drabbles for the soft yan boys. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and have a lovely day/night!

Pairing: Soft Yandere! (Embroidery) Kim Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, panic attack, sensory overload meltdown/reaction, mean/degrading words, dissociation (kinda), emotional manipulation- this is not a depiction of a good or healthy couple this is an installment in the dark romance that I write for a mature (18+ since the first installment is rated as such) audience and do not wish nor intend for anyone to glorify or strive for this kind of relationship and I do not think anyone in BTS would act like this at all IRL, this is a work of fiction depicting a relationship that could not exist as such or functionally IRL,I could go on for days about this but please know that much. Also if I left out anything else I should add in the warnings I am so sorry and please let me know. 

Summary: He just wanted to stand up for you and you just wanted to stand on your own. The thought of you doing anything on your own, without him,  shakes him to his very core. 

You hated tension. You hated anger and the silence that came from having no words to properly express emotions. Yet, here you were with Taehyung, sitting in  his living room as he paced wildly, the both of you still in your work clothes. The disagreement turned full-blown fight stemming from an issue that seemed so silly to you.

You looked at your nails, chipping off the polish as you spoke, “I don’t see why you’re overreacting to misogyny in the workplace like this.” You mumbled, "And mad at me for it." You huffed, only earning a scoff from the pacing man.

“I don’t see why you’re so intent on being pushed around by lazy workers.” He seethed, “Youngmin knows better than to throw his work on you, he’s a production manager!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at this. You already knew that. You were just about to tell Youngmin that before Taehyung stepped in needlessly. This had definitely not been the first time people dumped work on you purely because you were a capable secretary and someone who looked like a pushover. You knew how to handle these situations, regardless if you ended up doing the work. Taehyung, however, seemed to not have any such faith in you considering the scene he made on the entire accounting floor, embarrassing the life out of you.

“That doesn’t give you the right to make a scene on my behalf.” You hissed back, "I can stand up for myself, if you just gave me the chance."

Taehyung scoffed and it made your eyebrow twitch at his patronizing demeanor, “Well, what else do I do if you’re being pushed around?” You huffed at the comment.

“I’m not being pushed around.” You tried to reason but Taehyung wouldn’t have it.

“Well, I’m the one making sure of that!” You flinched at the volume of his voice, but he didn’t catch it from his pacing while you stood, making him freeze.

“Then why are you the only one pushing me around?!” You huffed, tears in your eyes while Taehyung felt his heart crack. You had never yelled at him before, let alone cried because if him. The same realization seemed to dawn on you as you faltered for a moment, “I-I can handle things myself sometimes, you know.” You spoke incredulously, “I was a person of my own before you, do you not get that?!”

“Oh yeah? Who?” He snapped and you gasped lightly. Is this what he genuinely thought about you? Did your own boyfriend think so low of you and you couldn't see it, “I just remember you being a receptionist that cried on the phone and couldn’t be bothered to so much as make her own lunch, so what were you, if not mine?” He finished his words with a hard glare fixated at you which immediately softened at your glassy eyes with betrayal lying in your pupils

"How could you say that to me?!" You seethed, your eyes void of any affection or love for the man before you, making him freeze, “Do you know how hard I’ve worked to be who I am, and that person is not just your girlfriend, do you want me to prove it?!" Your words felt like a veiled threat, like you would leave him and he felt your words like a spear to the heart.

He could not let that happen, under any circumstances. You could not leave him. He could never allow it. You were his world, his everything, his reason for existing.

Going into panic mode, the man spoke in a hushed tone “Baby, I didn’t mean-

You held your hand up, silencing him as you shook your head, “I need some time to, you know, figure out who I am." You spoke sarcastically but voice quiet as you shuffled to the door.

"W-What do you mean?" He tried to keep the panic in his voice at bay as you slipped on your shoes.

You shrugged, "I don't know." An honest answer did make the situation less frightening for the both of you. What the fuck did you mean? What the fuck were you going to do by yourself?

Wrong answer. In order for you to leave this place, he had to know you loved him and would still continue to do so.

"You know I love you, my Venus, right?" His restraint was hanging by a thread as he watched you slip on your shoes.

"Right." You spoke, barely above a whisper.

Strike two. You didn't say it back. Why would you not say it back? How could you not say it back?! Taehyung watched his nightmare unfold at his own hand. You were slipping away from him, and for the first time, he had no idea what to do.

"I don't want you to go home this late, my love." He took slow steps toward you as your shaky hands tied your shoes, not accustomed to this kind of conflict, "I can just sleep on the couch, and you can..."

You whimpered as you couldn't tie your damn shoes. Your hands were shaking along with the rest of your form as you couldn't focus on the task at hand. You were overstimulated to say the least by everything. From the work day, to the scene, to the fight, to the brokeness of everything around you. Taehyung and you rarely ever fought and each time it was mentally exhausted, but it had never been this bad. You had never felt so sub-human and worthless. Were you just an accessory this whole time?

Had Taehyung loved you or just your company? You felt like a burden to him and just like a shitty excuse of a human all around. What the hell are you if not his? Maybe he was right.

A whine sounded from your closed lips as tears fell to the ground. Your shaky hands had paused on your laces completely, the knots tangled and resembling nothing like the bunny ears you needed. Goodness, you couldn't even tie your damn shoes correctly. 

Taehyung's words evidently fell on def years as only distressed sounds and whines came from you. The word was blurrying from your tears and just being overwhelmed all around as your chest squeezed around itself and you opened your mouth to choke on a sob before two hands covered your ears, pushing your face into a familiar chest.

You fought against the embrace before falling on your bottom and defeatedly ceasing your struggles as you focused on the quickened heartbeat your partner had. Why was he so panicked? Surely you were not significant enough to make the ever cool Kim Taehyung's self-confidence shake, right? His heart was pounding furiously, just like yours, though. You thought back to his comment about tandem heart beats on your first night together. Now, the reasoning didn't sound so crazy as the synchronous heartbeats you both shared resounded between your forms. Your sobs evolved into just heavy breaths as your shoulders relaxed a bit, signaling the man holding you to pull back a bit. His hands slid down to cup your cheeks and stroked them softly, a sad smile adorning his beautiful face.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay, hm?" He kissed your forehead, eyes glossy as he pulled back, laying his forehead on yours, "I'm so fucking sorry I was being such a piece of shit." His voice shook, "Fuck, I never meant to hurt you like that, I didn't even mean what I said. I was just fucking projecting because I was nothing until you came into my life-"

"What a lie." You sniffled, "You have always been Kim Taehyung, campus prince, successful businessman, a fucking CEO- board member- whatever." You sighed out, "You've always been something-"

"None of that meant anything to me, barely does now, I never cared about anything until I met you." He breathed shakily, "I love you so much and you brought so much color to my world and I felt like all I had to offer you was protection and I have no damn idea how to be of use to you while you're so effortlessly the focal point of my existence." 

Your breath hitched at this, "I-I… What the hell are you talking about?" You huffed out, "This whole night I have felt like such a burden, like I was just a pet for you to look after, like I would be nothing without you- like you said-" Pain flashed across his face. He did say that. He didn’t mean it, but he said it and it affected you.

"Shit, I did not mean that at all, please believe me." He begged, voice cracking, "I am nothing if not yours, I can't take care of myself without you, my life is nothing without you in it." You opened your mouth to protest but he continued after a heavy breath, "I remember you as the receptionist who didn't care who liked her and who didn't, but you were still so shamelessly human and it was, and still is, fucking beautiful to see, you are so dedicated and hard-working. I felt the only way I could even get involved with you was through anonymous lunches because I was too cowardly to just approach you. Why would you like me to begin with? You never once needed me, but I have spent years now, needing you so shamelessly and it makes me feel so small when you don't need my help and I lash out like a child about it and say things I don't fucking mean, at all." He took a deep breath, "I love you more than anything, more than life itself, and I never want to make you feel like anything less than a fucking goddess and I'm so sorry I fucked up so bad." You couldn't find words as he gave you a short kiss on your nose before pulling away, averting his eyes as his cheeks glistened and he focused his hand on your shoes, "If you still need time on your own, I understand, and...and I will respect that." He spoke softly, defeated, as he gently undid the tangle of knots on your left shoe before beginning to tie it correctly, "Is that too tight?" He murmured.

You shook your head, tears heavy on your cheeks, "Stop, Tae-Tae." You pleaded softly but he could hardly register your words until you laid a hand on his, making him look up at you.

You studied his face, tears fresh on his cheeks with stains beginning to dry from previous ones, "Baby?" His voice was so broken.

"You can just take off the shoes, I-I want to lay down." You looked at him as he met your eyes with hopefully ones, "With you. I want to lay down… with you." He nodded before gingerly taking your shoes off, as if to give you time to change your mind, "I love you Tae-Tae, I really fucking do, and it's so scary because I want to be perfect for you like you are for me and I feel like I keep falling short and so to hear you say that earlier it just…" You shrugged, not sure how to vocalize how you felt.

He sighed, "I really didn't mean it, but it doesn't change the fact that I said it." He began to take off the other shoe, "I do think you're perfect and I need to be better with my stupid fucking insecurity about it and stop being such a dick." He slipped the other shoe off before pulling you into a tight embrace, "I love you, so much, and I would give up everything in a heartbeat just to be with you." You held him back, giving him peace of mind after being so vulnerable.

Your body was exhausted as he carried you to his bedroom. You could barely help him as he dressed you for bed and tucked you in carefully before sliding in next to you. He cradled you delicately in his arms, not squeezing until you held him against you tighter, "I forgive you." You whispered against his chest, "I love you, I really do."

"Thank you so much, my Venus." He sighed in relief at your words, "I love you too, so fucking much." He leant down as you kissed his lips softly. 

Taehyung lightly admonished himself for a moment. He nearly lost you. He could never let that happen again from his own foolishness. He couldn't live without you. He would never fuck up like that again, and he wouldn't. He vowed to never make a scene like that. He had to do that shit in private, obviously. He slipped up, but he would not be so obnoxious again. 

Before he could continue to curse his stupidity, you snuggled against him, "G'night, my love." You murmured and he relaxed instantly, head cleared with only thoughts of how much he loved you.

"Sweet dreams, my Venus." He kissed the crown of your head and you hummed in delight at the gesture before he joined you in closing his eyes and drifting away into a peaceful sleep after one of the scariest nights of his life.

Thankfully, Taehyung never made the same mistake twice. Especially a mistake so critical. Who knows what he would’ve had to do if you were dead set on leaving him? Again, thankfully, neither you, nor Taehyung, would not find out. Not that Taehyung  planned for you to ever find out just how far he was willing to go to keep you with him, to keep your requited love, to keep both of your hearts beating, together.

Masterlist

Donate to my ko-fi (if you want to ofc)

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 9, Cassian POV)

Notes: I had a lovely anon this morning ask for a POV from Cassian’s POV in E&L when he rubbed salve onto Nesta’s back. So, here you go, folks. As usual, apologies for any typos etc etc.

And for those needing a reminder of what happened in chapter 9, you can read it here.

Waiting outside of Nesta’s bedroom door was torture. Not just because Cassian would soon be touching Nesta’s bare skin, but because he knew she was trying to relinquish control by making him wait. And Cassian had been waiting for a long time now. Much longer than was necessary for Nesta to remove her nightgown and wrap herself in a towel.

Cassian bit back the snarl that wanted to emit itself from his throat, because rising to the deliberate wait would give Nesta too much satisfaction. And this was the game they played; continually trying to get one up on the other, riling and prodding and poking until they hissed and snarled and flames sparked between them.

So, Cassian waited patiently. He scented the chamomile salve wafting under the door and—Nesta. More intense than before. Jasmine and vanilla and her. Intoxicating and fiery and steely at the same time, as if she were forged from something entirely different from anyone else in the world.

It was addictive and exhilarating. It woke Cassian up, as if he had only been slumbering before. Nearly five hundred and fifty years of floating through life until Nesta Archeron came along and disrupted the course of things, like a knife thrust through the heart.

Footsteps sounded across the carpet and Cassian straightened, before he decided that a relaxed posture against the doorframe would irritate her more. He only just had time to arrange his expression into one of bored disinterest before the door opened.

Cassian cocked a lazy eyebrow as if to ask what took so long, but Nesta only turned immediately on her heel. He trailed after her into the cold room, trying not to stare at the creamy expanse of her back that peaked beneath her loose golden brown hair—the wings of her shoulder blades and the three freckles which dotted down the far too prominent nodules of her spine where they met her neck.

When Nesta turned back to face him, her pewter eyes were brimming with challenge, daring Cassian to comment on her lack of clothing. But he only twirled a finger—a silent order.

For a moment, Cassian thought she’d deny him, but then she obeyed—for once.

“All over?” he asked, making his voice deliberately practical rather than playful.

Slowly, Nesta dipped her chin. A long pause followed, as if she had forgotten that she had to relinquish the towel. But Cassian did not taunt her. Remained silent and patient, until she seemed to realise it for herself.

When she pulled the towel around to her front, that scent intensified. And when Nesta pulled her hair around her shoulder to expose her neck, Cassian’s nostrils flared.

Fucking hell, sometimes Cassian wondered how he controlled himself around her. Even his blood thrummed beneath his skin, pushing towards her, to the name that beat and chanted on the wind and in the back of his mind, always: Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.

His eyes snagged on that column of skin, and the temptation to bow his head and sink his teeth into her flesh was suddenly so overwhelming that Cassian almost took a step backwards.

But then a glimmer of apprehension fluttered down the bond and that urge vanished, as if it had never existed at all.

“Let me,” Cassian murmured, stepping towards Nesta so he could help to move the remaining tendrils of hair that tumbled down her back over her shoulder.

He ignored the electric sparks that shot through him as he swept his calloused fingers over her bare skin. And when that unblemished skin pebbled under his touch, Cassian realised just how freezing the room was—he wouldn’t have been surprised if his breath misted in front of him.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “I'll be quick, I know it's cold.”

“Just get it over with,” Nesta replied. Beneath his hands, her body was ramrod straight—so preternaturally still it was unnatural even to Fae.

So, Cassian tried his best to set Nesta at ease as he rubbed the salve between his palms, warming it before he dared touch it to her skin. “This stuff is good,” he said conversationally. “I use it a lot. I know humans usually have the worst muscle pain on their second and third day, but Fae bodies recover more quickly. You’ll be sore tomorrow, but it shouldn't last much longer than that.”

Beneath his hands, he felt every inch of her skeleton. Nesta’s body was so thin it felt as if her skin was like paper—as if the bone might pierce through if his touch was too firm.

The knowledge made his stomach clench so fiercely he wanted to smash his fist into the wall. He had let this happen. He had let—

“Good,” Nesta clipped in response, but the sound was coarse, pushed through gritted teeth as his hands skated over what he had guessed earlier to be a sore spot between her shoulder blades.

“You need to start eating right, too,” Cassian dared to say, as his hands traversed down her lower back. He wasn’t sure where the confidence came to comment on her weight, not after she had spat at him when he had pleaded for her to eat at breakfast the other day. “And lots to gain back the weight. I can tell—”

Hot, sharp anger stabbed through him so fiercely that suddenly Cassian couldn’t breathe. Because across the lower curve of Nesta’s back was four silvery scars—claw marks made by ragged nails that raked their way underneath the nightgown pooled at her hips.

The air between them shuddered.

Free of siphons, Cassian’s Killing Power was untamed and unchecked. And that trembling… that was what happened when Cassian was furious enough for his magic to tumble out of him before he could stifle it.

He could not remember the last time it had happened. Not for four hundred years, at least.

“How old is that scar?”

His words were low and fucking dangerous, he knew that. His hands had stilled on her skin, but as he spoke, his left hand moved on instinct rather than logic.

Nesta stilled when he brushed his fingers over what must have been deep gauges. Gently, he traced the path of each cruel line—

“What scar?”

Cassian paused at the thick quality to Nesta’s voice, as if she had wrangled the words out of her throat lest they become lodged there.

That fury spiked again and the windows rattled. “Nesta, is that scar new or is it from that human?”

The way he spoke was too forceful and too commanding. He knew that before the mist started to spark from her fingertips. Before his magic began to roar in his veins at the sight of her power.

The way in which Nesta whirled on the spot was so fast that Cassian thought he’d blinked and missed it. “You said you would do this quickly.”

Despite the hiss, Nesta could not conceal the vulnerability that flickered in her eyes. It was that rare glimpse into that normally closed off tunnel that allowed Cassian’s roiling anger to still for long enough for rationality to kick in.

Slowly, Cassian loosed a long breath and dragged the back of his hand over his forehead in an attempt to smooth away his twisted expression. “I’m sorry Nesta, ok? Just… let me do this. Turn around.”

Those mercury eyes stared him down but Cassian did not balk. Instead, he scoured that beautiful, steely face. Never had Cassian witnessed Nesta smile, but even without it she was perfection. The Cauldron could not have Made someone more stunning and deadly. Even as a human, Nesta had been more breathtaking than any Fae Cassian had ever set his eyes on—would ever set his eyes on.

Nesta must have found something in Cassian’s expression, because slowly—with a final, deathly glare—she turned her back to him.

It was a sign of trust and one Cassian did not take lightly.

Scooping up some more salve, Cassian silently continued his task, gliding his hands over those taut, sore muscles. When he reached those scars again, his hands ghosted over them in a way that was too tender. The skin was ridged and Cassian dared to run a a calloused thumb over the raised bumps.

To his surprise, Nesta did not bat him away or set him alight.

“I’ll kill him for you, if that’s what you want,” he murmured darkly.

That haughty chin tilted upwards. “Why should I let you? It would take the joy out of knowing I can do it myself whenever the mood strikes.”

A low laugh skittered out of him. “Whilst that is a good point, the offer still stands. Or perhaps I can come with you, when you do decide to pay him a visit."

Screwing the lid back on the salve, Cassian placed it on the dresser, averting his eyes as Nesta quickly pulled her nightgown back up. Her skin was covered in goosebumps from being exposed to the cold air, and Cassian glanced towards the open, unlit hearth stacked neatly with pine logs. “I’ll get a log burner installed for your room this week.”

Nesta’s head snapped to look at him. She had been staring longingly at the heaps of blanket on her bed.

It was obvious she was desperate for him to leave.

“I —“ she started, but then she broke off. For a moment, silence fell, and Cassian knew she did not know how to concede—to say thank you.

So, he shot her a crooked grin and said, “I’ll see you bright and early for round two. Don’t be late.”

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[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see. 

Catch up with Part 1 here

*

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say. 

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

 *

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

*

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

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