#refusing to compromise on my word count every day and that is so huge for me. i've known for quite a while i needed to develop artistic

[gentlethorns]

30K WORDS. slay slay slay. i think i will always forever and ever remember this time in my life as the first time that i really truly forged a coherent and "adult" story, as i sat in my little apartment and lived an adult life for the first time (no longer in school, paying rent). it may not be marketable or even objectively good, even after i do edits and further drafts and so on so forth, but i think it will always be an important era of my life just on the simple fact that i did the hard work involved in laying a good foundation and pulled together the discipline to follow through on it for the first time since high school (and high school doesn't even really count bc it was nowhere near as intensive or solid and also bc i had no real responsibilities so it was easy). so inchresting to discern that a certain period in your life will be significant even as you're living it

[baepsaesbae]

Spring Will Come Again

Pairing— Jeon Jungkook x reader    

Genre— Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!reader, SMUT +18, fluff, angst, Virgin!Jungkook, Sub!Jungkook, Switch!Jungkook

Warnings— Finger sucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (?), slight choking, there are a lot of emotions, Jungkook is literally so sweet gosh I just wanna hold him tight, this fic is kind of a rollercoaster of emotions bc I myself do b going thru it

Word Count—  ~10.9k  

Summary— Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever?

A/N— This beautiful banner was made by @dee-ehn​! Please let me know what you think of this fic! Hope you guys enjoy~

It all started on a beautiful spring day. Something had convinced you to go on an unprecedented early morning walk for some reason. 

The morning air was cold but crisp. You were bundled up in your favorite sweater, and the scarf that your grandmother knitted for you was wrapped snugly around your neck. Normally you would be immersed in your headphones, but since today was already unusual you decided to forgo the music. 

You walked along the banks of the stream that flowed next to your neighborhood. This particular stream held nothing but fond memories. You grew up here with all the other kids. During the summer breaks, you’d play out here from morning to nightfall. This was the place where you saw your first fireflies, and where you won your first fist fight. 

You stopped to sit on the grassy hill that ran alongside the banks, relishing in nostalgia as you took in a breath of fresh air. Everything is so different now. Everyone moved away to pursue their careers or to go to a big university. You were the only one left. Your parents urged you to go to college, but you refused. Who else would help run the bakery? 

As much as you hated to see it, your parents were growing old. Managing the family bakery was getting harder on them. You were such a huge help to them since you basically managed all of the front-of-house work. They worked diligently in the kitchen every day to create the best baked goods in town. 

You had always dreamt of leaving this small town. You’ve fantasized about attending a big university in the middle of a bustling city since you were a little kid. Unfortunately, that can’t happen now. You can’t leave your parents or the bakery behind. You held no resentment though, you loved it. Being an only child was a bit lonely at times, but your parents made you feel loved no matter what.

You laid on the grassy hill, watching the clouds roll by. Maybe life was better this way. It was simple, and you always knew what to expect. Day in and day out, the routine was always the same. 

Everything changed on that day. That was the fateful day that you ran into him. Or rather, he ran into you. 

“Good morning, ____! Where were you this morning? Why weren’t you answering your phone?” your concerned mother asked when you returned home.

“Morning mom. I went on a walk and forgot my phone I guess. Sorry about that. I ended up laying on the hill by the stream,” you replied as you sat at the breakfast table.

Living with bakers was probably one of the biggest blessings in your life. Every meal smelled delectable and you had access to all the fresh goodies you could desire. 

“Wow, you were awake before we were? What a surprise. Here, tell me what you think of this loaf,” your dad set it in front of you.

You tossed a piece of bread into your mouth. The taste was savory to say the least. It was your father’s signature banana bread loaf, only this time with a small twist. 

“Why’d you take out the walnuts? It’s still delicious though,” you said, devouring another piece.

“Well so many customers complain about having nut allergies now. I thought we could sell more if we take them out! You think we can sell this?” he asked eagerly.

“I think this will be our newest best seller!” you happily replied, “I’m gonna go open up the shop. See you guys soon,” you kissed them each on the cheek before taking your leave.

The bakery was down the street from your house, so the commute was only about 5 minutes even if you walked slowly. You brought your phone with you this time, so you were jamming out to your music, oblivious to the outside world. You were so out of it, that you didn’t have time to react to the person quickly rounding the corner.

One moment you were walking to work, the next you were knocked onto the cold hard ground. Your assailant fell on top of you, and you soon locked eyes with him. It was as if time stood still for a moment. He was the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. His eyes were wide with concern, and for a moment, you swore you saw stars twinkling within them. 

It took a second to register that this stranger was on top of you, in a compromising position no less. You’ve never been this close to a boy since...well it has been a while. Your legs were intertwined and his nose was only inches from yours. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you until the last second,” the boy apologized as he scrambled to get off of you. 

As he helped you up, you reassured him that you were fine. You laughed off the incident and took the boy by surprise. You had the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. He stood awkwardly gazing at you, before you asked him if he was okay. 

“I-I’m fine! I’m glad you’re okay. I apologize again for being so careless,” he bowed.

“I’m also at fault! I wasn’t paying attention either. So shame on both of us,” you smiled to show him you were joking, “Enjoy the rest of your day, don’t run into anyone else!”

And with that, you parted ways. You forgot about the stranger as the morning rush piled into the bakery. 

Despite being located in a small town, your parent’s were nationally renowned bakers. The bakery was always busy. That was part of why you loved it so much, you were never bored. The regular customers were your favorite. Most of the townsfolk had been coming to the bakery since you were little. 

“Is this banana bread new?” Mrs. Park, the local florist, asked.

“Technically, yes. It’s the exact same recipe but without the walnuts,” you replied.

“Perfect! I’m not too fond of walnuts but I adore your parents’ banana bread,” Mrs. Park beamed, handing you a loaf along with other goods she picked up.

“How’s Jimin?” you asked as you rang her up.

“Oh he’s doing well! He loves it out there in the big city. At first, I was terrified of letting him go. He’s just always been so passionate about dancing, I finally had to cave in. He recently auditioned to be part of some fancy dance crew, and he got in! Can you believe it?” Mrs. Park began to dote on her son.

“That’s amazing! I’m happy for him,” you smiled.

“You know, ____, Jimin is still single. You two would be perfect together--”

“Long distance relationships are hard, Mrs. Park,” your mother interrupted her, swooping in to save the day. Thank god. You wouldn’t have known how to react. 

“She could always move out to the city to be with him!” Mrs. Park retorted, not picking up on the awkward situation she created. 

“I could never leave the bakery,” you responded quickly.

“Ah, yes that’s right. You have such a good daughter, Mrs. _____. Jimin never took any interest in taking over the family business. I’m jealous of you!” Mrs. Park said to your mom.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Park finally left. You were fond of her, but she never knew when to stop talking. Jimin was a good friend of yours growing up. You never wanted to admit that you had a huge crush on him. You figured it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since he was so fixated on moving out. 

The morning rush had died down. You took this opportunity to restock and tidy things up before the afternoon rush. The store bell rang, indicating the arrival of another customer.

“Welcome in! I’ll be with you shortly,” you called out from behind the counter. 

“No worries, thanks!” the customer yelled back.

Once finished, you popped up with a bright smile on your face. Your parents taught you to always greet the customers with a smile as soon as they walk in. 

However, the customer wasn’t facing your direction. He was looking at the baked goods that aligned the opposite wall. You patiently waited for him to make his selection. He kept walking back and forth, eyeing all of the baked items. You left your station behind the counter and approached him.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” you piped up behind him.

The man jumped back, startled.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay! I didn’t hear you at all. You must be some sort of ninja-- Oh it’s you!” the boy turned around to face you.

It was the gorgeous boy who ran into you earlier. 

“Hello again! I guess it was my turn to frighten you,” you joked.

“That’s fair,” he nodded, “What’s the best thing here?”

“Mmm that’s hard for me to say, considering that I love them all. What kind of tastes and textures do you like?” your customer service persona kicked in. 

“I like sweet things I guess? I like bananas too…” he trailed off.

“We don’t have any bananas in fruit form, but we do have killer banana bread,” you beamed.

“That sounds good, but I don’t really like nuts so--”

“There are no nuts in our new recipe! You must be lucky, this is the first day that we’ve started selling them. Want me to ring you up a loaf?” you interrupted him.

“Oh no nuts? Okay, I’ll try it,” he agreed quietly.

“Would you still like to get something sweet as well?” 

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” he nodded timidly.

“Of course it’s okay! My personal favorite is our milk pudding bun. The pudding in the middle is pretty creamy plus the bread is unbelievably soft! If that’s not for you, then we have a classic chocolate bun filled with, surprise surprise, chocolate. We also have…” you led the boy around the entire bakery.

You were too focused on recommending various breads to notice him stealing glances at you that lingered longer than normal. He patiently let you talk his ear off about the goodies.

“I’ll go with the milk pudding bun,” he smiled shyly.

“That was the first one! You should’ve stopped me from rambling,” you huffed.

“I wanted to know my options. Plus you seemed pretty happy,” he added softly.

“Alright, let’s go check you out then,” you headed to the counter, “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you to our little town?” you attempted to make conversation.

“Mmm, to get away, I guess,” the boy said after a pause.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” you leaned over the counter to whisper.

“Kind of,” he whispered back.

“Stay right here, I can call the police,” you frantically murmured as you whipped out your phone.

“No no! Not like that,” he couldn’t contain his laughter, “I’m a fine arts student. My main focus is photography, but lately I haven’t been able to capture anything worth printing,” he explained.

“Ohhh,” you said, feeling dumb, “Then why come to a town in the middle of nowhere? You won’t find much here.”

“To an untrained eye, maybe so. But to a professional, beauty can be found anywhere,” he said proudly.

“Then why can’t you find anything back home? And aren’t you still a student?” you questioned.

“You know, I was really hoping that you’d let me have that,” the boy deflated.

“Aw, I’m sorry! If you ever want to take photos of the beauty that is bread, you’re always welcome here,” you smiled.

“I might take you up on that offer,” he said as he grabbed the purchased goods, “What’s your name by the way?”

“____. Yours?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I’ll see you around, Mr. Jeon Jungkook. Oh! And if you’d like a tour of the town, I’d be more than happy to show you around,” you suggested.

“That would be nice,” Jungkook pondered, “Where can I find you?”

“I’m here every day. I get off at 3pm,” you answered.

“Cool. I’ll drop by tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Sure! See you then!” you waved goodbye.

“Who was that?” your mother asked when the boy left.

“Some photography student that said he wanted to get away for some inspiration. I offered to give him a tour tomorrow after work,” you explained. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” your dad offered.

“I’ll be fine on my own, thanks,” you quickly turned him down.

You spent the next morning frantically flip flopping between outfits. Should you go with a pretty top paired with a skirt? Or perhaps keep it casual with a t-shirt and jeans? Or should you go with a simple dress? You know you’re supposed to be a tour guide, but you still wanted to look somewhat presentable. You settled for the dress. It gave off a “cute but not trying too hard” type of vibe. 

Time seemed to slowly drag on as you waited for Jungkook to return. You had already mapped out your route, making sure it was efficient (not like there’s much to see anyway). You wanted to surprise him with a picnic at the end of the tour. Hopefully it could help show off the natural beauty of the forests and meadows that surrounded the town. As the clock approached 3pm, you began to wonder if springing a surprise picnic on a stranger was odd. Oh god, what if it was? You hadn’t had much interaction with people your age once all your friends went off to live their own lives. Panic was starting to set in when the front bell chimed.

“Hey! I’m a little early, but I can wait around until you’re finished,” Jungkook greeted you. You noticed a fancy looking camera dangling around his chest.

“It’s all good! Business has been slow today, I’ve been bored,” you admitted.

“Oh I see--” Jungkook was cut off.

“Hi! I’m ____’s mom. Did you like the bread you bought yesterday?” your mom materialized out of nowhere with a pan of fresh bread in her hands.

“It was delicious! Better than anything I could get in the city,” Jungkook complimented.

“Why did you batch a new batch? No one has come in after 1pm,” you aggressively whispered to your mom. 

“I got bored,” she pouted, “Here, have one! On the house, think of it as a welcoming present to our town,” she motioned for Jungkook to take a fresh loaf off the tray.

Jungkook’s face lit up at the offer as he thanked her for the snack. His smile lingered as he took a bite, savoring the taste.

“You must have some sort of good luck charm; you’re getting even more free food later,” you chuckled as you plopped a wicker basket onto the checkout counter.

“Sweet,” he beamed. 

You let out a small sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Jungkook was creeped out by the thought of eating with a stranger. With the basket in hand, you led Jungkook across the town. There truly wasn’t much to see. Your family’s bakery was in line with the rest of the town’s shops. You passed by the florist, the cafe, the grocery store, and the post office within the first 3 minutes just by walking down the street. You added in little personal stories with each business that you pointed out. 

Jungkook paused by the flower shop, in awe of all the beautiful arrangements. His eyes scanned the outside displays, as if he was looking for something. 

“Need something specific, dear?” Mrs. Park asked her potential customer. 

“Do you have Tiger flowers?” he inquired.

“Tiger… No, but I can probably order some for you,” she offered.

“Ah, that’s alright. I’m sorry to bother you,” Jungkook apologized before rejoining you.

“Did you wanna take a picture of that specific flower?” you asked him as you strolled along the sidewalk.

“Yeah, it’s my birth flower,” he shyly nodded.

“Oh nice! I don’t know what my birth flower is, but yours sounds pretty. Ah, here is the town square. Over there is the courthouse/government building/boring stuff happens in there probably,” you said as you pointed out the building.

“This is cool,” Jungkook examined a decrepit well that stood in front of the courthouse.

“I guess. I always thought it would be better if they replaced it with a big pretty fountain or something,” you mentioned as you looked down into the dark abyss of the well.

Jungkook said nothing as he began taking pictures of the well from various angles. You watched him frown at each picture he took before he tried to take another. 

“Maybe you could take a picture looking into the well? I mean, you’d probably have to stand on it to get a full shot and your feet will be in it but…” you suggested before realizing that you knew nothing about photography.

Jungkook immediately hopped onto the well, disregarding the loose pebbles that crumbled away under his weight. Pointing the camera directly down into the well, he snapped a couple of pictures. He didn’t bother hopping off of the well before scrolling through the pictures he just took. You caught yourself staring at him, admiring his features. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his lips were pursed, and the wind was blowing his bangs over his forehead ever so slightly. He really was a handsome boy, though he seemed to be completely unaware of it. 

“How’d it turn out?” you asked as he climbed down.

“Not bad actually. Better than the angles I took at first,” Jungkook smiled with approval, “I’ll show you after I touch them up.”

“I’m excited to see! Also, this basically concludes the tour because everything else is residential stuff. Unless you wanna take pictures of random people’s homes,” you joked.

“I’m good. Is this where we’re eating? I kinda skipped lunch,” Jungkook looked at the wicker basket in your hand.

“Nope! I’m gonna take you somewhere special. Are you okay with a bit of light hiking?”

“Sounds fun,” Jungkook grinned. 

“Perfect! Now it’s your turn to lug this thing around,” you said as you handed him the deceptively heavy basket. 

You took him to the outskirts of town, where nature was left untouched.

“Is this where all the cool kids have their picnics?” Jungkook asked as you led him down an old trail.

“All the cool kids left this town a while ago, so I can’t speak on their behalf. However, this is where I like to have my picnics so take that in whatever way you please,” you responded.

It was a sunny day on the verge of being too hot, but the densely wooded forest provided enough shade to make it comfortable. Your parents used to take you on walks in these woods when you (and they) were younger. Of course, now the hilly paths and loose soil would only wreak havoc on your parents’ old knees. You’ve grown accustomed to exploring on your own. Bringing Jungkook along was a pleasant change. 

“You okay with eating here?” you suddenly stopped, pointing over to a field just off the trail.

“I’ll eat anywhere, I’m starving,” Jungkook quickly nodded. 

“I’m fully aware of that; I could barely hear the birds chirping over the sounds of your stomach growling,” you teased.

An old tree that was large enough to cover up the entire picnic blanket with shade proved to be the ideal spot. Jungkook set down the wicker basket that you assigned to him earlier, eagerly waiting for you to finally open it.

“On the menu today we have fruits as an appetizer, ham and cheese sandwiches in homemade croissants as the main course, and last but not least, chocolate buns for dessert,” you proudly showcased each item.

“I never knew bread could taste so heavenly until I went to your bakery. I’m happy I walked in,” Jungkook praised as he wolfed down his sandwich.

“It’s not my bakery, it’s my parents’ bakery,” you corrected him as you ate the fruit.

“Don’t you work in it nearly every day? I don’t see how it’s not your bakery too,” Jungkook insisted.

“I’m not the one running the business,” you argued.

“You seem to put in the same amount as work as them. Instead of baking, you’re handling all of the customers. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Jungkook persisted. 

“Fine, I guess you could say it’s a family bakery. Happy?” you huffed, clearly annoyed.

  “Hey, I wasn’t trying to make you angry. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Jungkook apologized, putting his sandwich down, “I wanted to let you know how much I love your family’s bread, that’s all.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…” your trailed off as you gazed at the blue sky.

“I don’t want to pry, but I’m happy to sit here and listen,” Jungkook offered. 

“I don’t want to scare you away by dumping my personal issues on you,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think you could do that, ____,” Jungkook assured you. 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly since he caught you off guard with his sincerity, but soon you gave him a soft smile.

“Fine, since we’re just sitting here anyway,” you caved as you picked up your sandwich, “I wish I wasn’t here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I love the bakery. I just wish I got to go to a big city somewhere and attend a real university. I don’t know what I’d study, I just know that I thought my life would be different by now,” you turn away from him to hide your watery eyes.

“It’s not all that great,” Jungkook responded after a short pause, “I came from a small town too. The only difference was that it was along a beach, not by a forest. Wait, the location doesn’t matter,” he quietly scolded himself, “What I’m trying to say is that I did get away from my hometown. I was so excited to finally be a city kid. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be. Now look at me. I’m a senior in college with no direction in life. That’s what I get for choosing a career with no job security,” he chuckled as he looked down at the camera around his neck. 

“But are you doing what you love?” you quietly asked.

“I think so. Are you?” he asked back.

“I think so,” you sighed, finally turning to look at him. 

“I could always take you back to the city with me,” Jungkook flashed you a big bunny smile.

“Don’t joke with me like that. I hate getting my hopes up,” you playfully punch him in the arm. 

“I’m not joking!” he yelped in surprise.

The conversation turned into a more cheerful one. You both spoke about your dreams, both childhood and present day. It was fun talking with Jungkook as you both watched the clouds roll by without a care in the world. 

“Maybe you could get some pretty shots of some wildlife while we’re out here,” you recommended when the conversation came to a pause.

“Do you want to model for me?” Jungkook asked.

“Huh?” his sudden proposal surprised you.

“It’s completely okay if you don’t want to! Actually, just forget I said anything,” Jungkook looked down at the camera in his hands in a futile attempt to hide his flushed cheeks. 

“Just tell me how to pose,” you smiled, already getting up.

“Uh, just act natural,” he said awkwardly as you leaned against the thick tree trunk.

At first, you made some silly poses that made Jungkook laugh. To be honest, you only did that because you really didn’t know how to pose next to the tree while making it look natural. Forcing a smile, you attempted to lean on the tree like as if it were another person. 

“You don’t have to fake a smile,” Jungkook called from behind the camera.

“I don’t know what to do!” you called back.

“Act natural!”

“How do I do that?”

“Naturally!”

His response rewarded him a sarcastic eye roll, followed by a burst of laughter. Jungkook furiously clicked his camera as you laughed even harder. He praised you for ‘being in your natural state’ as he took shots from ridiculous angles. He gave you a thumbs up after he was satisfied with the impromptu photoshoot.

“Is laughing until I can’t breathe just me being in my natural state?” you asked playfully as you sat back down on the picnic blanket.

“It was authentic, so I would say so. I wish I could capture sound too, your laugh is so cute,” Jungkook said nonchalantly as he scrolled through the photos.

His eyes widened as soon as he realized what he said. He opened his mouth to try and take it back, or at least cover it up. He looked over at you shyly, only to see that you were digging out dessert from the basket. He let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you didn’t hear him. 

“How were the pictures?” you asked, scooting to sit beside him after handing him the dessert.

“See for yourself,” he proudly showed you.

You were amazed by his talent. Even without editing, the photos looked like they were ready to be submitted into a contest. Everything looked so perfect. Your smile was genuine, the lighting was optimal, and your hair looked surprisingly good. You applauded him for his talent, to which he bashfully denied by saying he was still such an amatuer. You both finally dug into the desserts. 

“These chocolate buns were amazing,” Jungkook licked his lips after he finished it.

“They’re my personal favorite! They’re also the best things that I can make on my own,” you winked at him as you finished yours.

“You made these?” Jungkook’s doe eyes filled with awe.

“Yep! Don’t act so surprised,” you pouted.

“Sorry, it’s just that you told me your parents bake everything. These were really good! Probably the best things I’ve had since--oh wait. You have a little something,” Jungkook leaned forward to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. 

You both froze for a second, in shock of this intimate gesture. Jungkook’s mouth opened to apologize, but you stopped him before he had the chance. Without thinking about it, you put your mouth around his thumb. You sucked on it for a second before you snapped back to reality. You started apologizing profusely the instant his thumb left your mouth. 

“It’s okay! I shouldn’t have touched you in the first place,” Jungkook shied away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes. 

“I don’t know what came over me,” you apologized as you grabbed his hand.

Jungkook looked at you with an embarrassed expression the moment you held his hand in yours. At first you didn’t realize why he was so embarrassed, you were the one sucking his thumb. But then, you noticed Jungkook sheepishly resting his other hand in his lap.

“Jungkook,” you said sweetly.

“Yes?” he answered, his eyes averting yours once more. 

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Huh?” he looked back at you with disbelief. 

You made a bold move as you moved to straddle his lap, each leg settling beside his waist. You brought his hand up to your mouth and batted your eyes innocently.

“Like this,” you say before licking his pointer finger. 

Jungkook gulped while slowly nodding his head, giving you permission to continue. His eyes stayed glued on you as you wrapped your lips around his finger. You dragged your flattened out tongue from the base to the tip. You then reversed this motion, but instead only using the tip of your tongue. You began to work on his middle finger as well. It was hard to fit his long fingers in your mouth, but you’re no quitter. Your tongue weaved between his fingers, adequately coating them with your saliva.

Jungkook’s breaths quickened the longer you went on. You felt a bulge grow between your thighs as you straddled him. Perhaps wearing a dress was a great idea after all. Your hips began to move on their own as you slowly grinded on Jungkook. 

“____…” Jungkook moaned quietly when you daringly took three fingers into your mouth.

Rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard crotch spurred you on even more. Drool was dribbling down Jungkook’s arm and your chin, but neither of you cared. It just made you look more erotic to him. His other hand was on your hip to help you maintain a rhythm. You opened your eyes to make contact with his as you suckled his fingers. That’s all it took to make him come undone.

He quickly pushed you off of him as he cried out. You were both too shocked to say anything for a few seconds. Jungkook seemed too embarrassed to look you in the eyes again, his cheeks bright red.

“Jungkook, I--” you started to apologize.

“You probably think I’m pretty lame huh? Cumming in my pants like some sort of middle schooler,” he looked down in defeat. 

“What? No, of course not!” you disagreed.

“Don’t lie,” Jungkook refused to believe you.

“Jungkook, that was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever done. What we just did was hotter than when I was actually having sex,” you tried to cheer him up. 

“You’re not lying?” Jungkook finally looked up at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

“I swear I’m not. I could help you clean it up, if you’d like,” you offered. 

“I think that would make me feel worse. Just hand me some napkins and I’ll go take care of it myself,” he declined.

You packed everything up while you waited for Jungkook to return. He discreetly threw away the ball of used napkins into the designated trash bag, praying to god that you weren’t looking. 

The walk back was quiet and awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. You were horrified with how you acted; you’ve never been so bold before. Jungkook was ashamed of cumming before he had the chance to do anything to you. He felt so pathetic. 

“I’m sorry for making you so uncomfortable, Jungkook,” you finally apologized.

“Are you kidding? You think I would cum that fast if I was uncomfortable?” Jungkook looked at you with incredulity, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m disgusting and came in my pants while you did all the hard work.”

“You’re not disgusting at all, Jungkook. I enjoyed it too. I can’t remember the last time I was that horny,” you laughed.

All the tension in the air had disappeared. Jungkook bounced back to being his cheery self. The conversation went back to normal as you brought him back to the bakery. You hugged him goodbye and were about to leave when he caught your hand.

“Thank you so much for the tour. I know we’ve only known each other for a day but... would you like to go on a date with me?” Jungkook asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“No,” you said firmly, watching his shoulders fall, “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you smirked.

“You jerk!” Jungkook gasped. 

You couldn’t help it, he was too easy to tease. After working out the details, it was decided that he would come pick you up on Friday night. 

Jungkook took you to basically the only restaurant in town (that wasn’t the cafe). It was a family run Italian eatery, and it took Jungkook by surprise.

“Is everyone in this place a master chef or something? This is delicious!” he praised as he ate his pasta.

“I guess it’s the authenticity of family recipes? You probably eat at more chain restaurants while you’re in the city,” you shrugged as you twirled noodles around your fork.

The date went on pleasantly. Jungkook wanted to know as much about you as you did him. The conversations you had were lively and fun; there was never a dull moment with him. Something about him just automatically clicked with you.

“What’s your favorite thing to photograph?” you asked.

“I like taking pictures of landscapes and buildings. That’s why I was super excited about going to a university in the city. It’s a lot easier than taking pictures of people! Unfortunately, that’s where the money is right now,” he explained.

“You don’t like taking pictures of people?”

“Not really, no,” he answered bluntly.

“Then why did you ask me to model for you?” you were genuinely curious.

Jungkook froze in his seat. He took a long sip of his drink before answering you. 

“For practice, I suppose,” he said softly. 

“I’m happy I was able to help then,” you smiled, thinking nothing of it. 

Jungkook seemed grateful that you didn’t press for more details, and was soon coaxed out of his shy shell once the topic of anime came around. You were happy that he took you out on a proper date, you hadn’t been on one in so long.

He walked you back under the pale moonlight. You were admiring the twinkling stars when you realized that Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a while. His hand awkwardly brushed against yours when you first left the restaurant, but you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook seemed to be thinking hard about something as he walked alongside you. You were going to say something when the back of his hand brushed against yours again. He instantly pulled away and uttered a small “sorry”.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” you were worried now, you thought the date went well. 

“Nothing…,” his voice trailed off as he looked away.

You interlocked his pinky with yours without a word. Jungkook looked over at you with surprise, but said nothing. He admonished himself for not committing to hold your hand, but he was happy with this too. In fact, he thought it was cuter than actual hand holding.

You arrived in front of your house. Bidding Jungkook goodnight, you went in for a hug. Jungkook also went in for a hug, but he leaned the same way you did. In a quick bumble, your lips grazed the corner of Jungkook’s, causing you to jump back. You stood in Jungkook’s arms, looking away in embarrassment. He brought up one of his hands to cup your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as he gazed into yours. 

Slowly, you found yourself leaning forward. Jungkook met you in the middle, his lips finding yours. It was a tender kiss, sweet and soft. You broke it off after a couple seconds to giggle, but Jungkook pulled you back into it. He kissed you gently, yet with so much passion. You reciprocated his affection as your fingers intertwined with his hair, deepening the kiss.

He finally pulled away, smiling back at you. To be honest, you wish it lasted longer. However, you knew you would have had a hard time controlling yourself if it did.

“Thank you for dinner,” you thanked him with a soft voice.

“Of course, thank you for accompanying me,” he bowed like a gentleman and kissed your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gesture.

“Too much?” he tilted his head.

“Don’t change a thing,” you continued to laugh. 

All sorts of thoughts about Jungkook swam in your mind as you fell asleep that night. 

Jungkook soon began to hangout with you every day. When he wasn’t out trying to take pictures, he would be in the bakery keeping you company. Your parents teased him, saying that he better buy something or else they’d kick him out, but they never did. In fact, your mom would always sneak him some freshly baked goods. 

After work, you and Jungkook would spend even more time together. It didn’t matter if you guys were exploring nature, cooling off in the stream, or just watching movies; you enjoyed it all. It was nice having someone to talk to for a change. Jungkook never asked to make plans with you, he just assumed you guys would hangout the next day when he said “see ya tomorrow!”

You knew you had a crush on Jungkook, but you didn’t know how he felt. Yes, he took you on a date. Yes, you’ve kissed. Yes, you made in cum in his pants (not necessarily in that order). You were waiting on him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t want to pressure him, especially when you knew that he’d be going back to school in the fall. 

One day, much to your chagrin, Jungkook was helping you with inventory. You argued that he shouldn’t work since he wasn’t getting paid, but he smiled and replied that spending time with you was all the payment he needed. You were too flustered to argue after that.

“Great, everything has been accounted for! Can you help me put this box back up there?” you asked him, nodding your head at a particularly high shelf that was out of your reach. You grabbed a step stool for him to make it easier.

Jungkook lifted up the heavy box of supplies with ease, and placed it back on the shelf. He looked down at you and smiled.

“What?” you cocked your head.

He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “You just look cute from up here.”

You looked away as you blushed, not knowing what to say. Jungkook laughed as he got down from the step stool. He teased you about it for the rest of the day.

Days flew by as it was getting closer and closer to Jungkook’s departure. You let Jungkook decide on what to do during his last day there. He picked you up at the bakery after your shift. He wanted to take one last stroll with you around town before he had to leave. You were about to hug him goodbye when he invited you over, saying that he had a box of popcorn he needed help finishing.

After watching a couple movies, Jungkook had his arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Cuddling had become a norm between you two. Jungkook suddenly nudged your side, causing you to shriek.

“Sorry, just making sure you were still awake,” he giggled.

“I was, but now I definitely am,” you said as you returned the favor and tickled his sides.

It soon became a war of tickling as laughter erupted from both of you. Jungkook was just as ticklish as you were, making it a deadly battle. Before you knew it, you were straddling Jungkook, gripping both of his wrists in your hands. You both stared at each other as the laughter subsided, now replaced with heavy breathing. 

“You could easily knock me over, you know,” you said as you lowered your nose to his.

“What if I don’t want to?” he whispered back.

He moved his head upwards to kiss you, catching you by surprise. You kissed him back, pushing him back down. You lowered your hips to rest on his hardened crotch. You let go of his wrists to help him take off his shirt before removing your own. 

Once your lips connected again, Jungkook’s hands moved freely over your body, gently caressing your breasts. He treated you so tenderly, it made you even hornier. Your hands reached down to unzip his pants.

“Is this okay?” you paused to ask.

“Only if you take off your pants too,” he answered with a smirk.

Soon enough you were both down to just your underwear. You palmed Jungkook’s erection, curious to see it. It already felt huge in comparison to your hands.

“I want to fuck you, _____,” Jungkook groaned as you kissed his neck.

“I’m glad we want the same thing. Where do you want me?” you cooed. 

“Like this is fine,” he quickly answered. 

He helped you take off his underwear, revealing his massive dick. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it. You wriggled out of your panties and positioned yourself on top of him. 

“Ready?” you asked.

Jungkook just nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. He gulped as he watched you slowly lower yourself onto him, taking in each inch slowly. You moaned as he went deeper and deeper in you. You hadn’t had sex in a long time (and admittedly it wasn’t very good). Now, you were sopping wet and Jungkook was filling you up perfectly. Once you reached the base of his dick, you took your time going back up.

From the look on Jungkook’s face, he was in pure bliss. You continued to tease him as you fucked him slowly. You transitioned from taking his entire length to just swiveling around his tip, making him moan from the overstimulation. Jungkook dug his nails into your lower back, begging you to take all of him in again.

You leaned back over and peppered kisses along his chest and up his neck. Jungkook whimpered at the sensation, his breathing grew uneven. You giggled at him as you suckled on his neck, leaving wet kisses in your wake. Once you had enough of teasing him, you slammed back down onto him, and both your moans filled the room. Your hips began to move faster as you bounced on top of him. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened. 

“I--I’m gonna cum,” he panicked.

You immediately hopped off, hoping to edge him. He whimpered at the loss of your warm pussy, but your plan seemed to work. His eyes begged you to get back on top. 

“Now it’s your turn to fuck me,” you demanded as you laid down on your back.

Jungkook complied and positioned himself between your legs. He bent over to kiss you while he pushed his cock back inside of you. He took his time at first, but then tried to pick up the pace. His movements were awkward and stiff, and his pelvis hit your hips in a way that you knew they were going to bruise later.

“Jungkook, just relax,” you commanded.

Jungkook steadied his breathing and took your advice. He was finally able to find a rhythm and stuck to it. Luckily, it was the perfect rhythm for you as he continuously grazed your g-spot. Jungkook moaned with every stroke as your warm insides squeezed around him. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him even closer. You looked up at him to see that the usual sweet star filled doe eyes of his had switched to a version of pure ecstasy as he gazed down at you with blown out pupils. The change was a little jarring, but also incredibly sexy when you realized the potential duality Jungkook could have. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tongues exploring foreign regions as he pounded into you. 

“I’m gonna--,” his breath hitched.

“Cum on me baby,” you panted as you furiously rubbed your clit, desperate to cum with him.

With perfect timing, Jungkook got to feel you cum around him for a few seconds before he had to pull out and finish all over your chest. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before scurrying off to find something to clean you with. 

He rested his head on your chest as you held him close. You were falling asleep when he said something.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked him since you barely heard him.

“I am, well I guess was, a virgin,” Jungkook admitted.

“Oh,” you tried to mask your surprise.

“I didn’t wanna say anything. I mean, how lame is it that I’m a college senior and have never gotten laid. You’re probably surprised huh? I’m not lying, I swear.”

“I am surprised, but only because you seem like ladies would be all over you. You’re so handsome, funny, charming--”

“Yes yes keep going,” Jungkook joked.

“--and a genuinely good guy. Plus I feel like being a photographer would help you meet a lot of pretty girls,” you reasoned.

“While all of that is true, the real reason is pretty embarrassing. I’m...I’ve always been kinda scared of girls,” Jungkook sighed as you tried to suppress your laughter, “I’m not kidding! I always get so nervous around girls, I could never actually talk to them.”

“So am I not a girl in your eyes?” you teased.

“You’re a woman,” he answered cockily.

“Shut up! I hope your first time was enjoyable. Thanks for entrusting me with your v card,” you laughed.

You both continued joking and laughing the night away until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. While that night was enjoyable, it made Jungkook’s absence hurt more. 

Life had sunk back into the same mundane routines once Jungkook left. Of course, he still kept in touch. He would text and video call you as often as he could. He’d send you pictures of his newest shooting locations, and you’d always be the first person he’d show his finished products. 

You loved witnessing Jungkook’s passion grow, he had a new spark in him that wasn’t there before. With your encouragement as an extra shove, he applied to his dream job. He explained to you that it was with an agency that would send him to a random country where he’d work with a participating magazine company. You secretly envied him for even having the possibility of exploring the world. 

Days and weeks started to blend together. Your parents insisted on having you help out more in the kitchen, presumably to get your mind off of Jungkook. 

It was a weird fling you had with him. However, it also didn’t seem like a fling. Most flings didn’t still keep in touch in a long distance “friendship”, or whatever it was you had. You were never officially dating, but it sure as hell felt that way. You cursed yourself for waiting for him to ask, you should’ve just done it yourself. Of course, part of you felt like you’d just hold him back if you guys actually ended up dating. 

These thoughts constantly swarmed your mind. Ironically, the only time you weren’t thinking about your dilemma was when you were chatting with Jungkook. The end of the semester was quickly approaching, and you could tell that he was getting antsy. He hadn’t gotten offers from anywhere that he applied. You could do nothing but give him hope but assuring him that someone somewhere will hire him. 

You watched snow fall outside when you got a call. 

“I GOT IN!!!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“What?! Where?!” you jumped up in excitement.

“My top choice! The one where they send me to another country! Guess where I’m going,” he sing songed.

“Umm… Italy?”

“Close! I’m going to España,” he said with a spanish accent.

“That’s amazing, Jungkook. I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it. When do you leave?” you asked.

“In a week. God, I’m so excited! Oh, my parents are calling. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Congrats again,” you cheered before he hung up.

Before you knew it, you were crying. You were honestly happy for Jungkook, but reality hit you. You were never going to be able to tell him that you loved him. You were never going to be with him, not while you’re stuck in this town. It sucked, but you had no choice but to accept that. 

Two days had passed since that phone call. Jungkook was probably busy packing and working out minor details, so you stayed out of his way. You figured things would probably be like this from now on. Why would he bother talking to a small town girl while he’s out exploring the world? 

You were restocking the milk puddings rolls when the front bell chimed. 

“I’ll be with you in a second,” you called out.

“No worries, I’ll wait all day if I have to,” a familiar voice responded.

You dropped the rolls as you turned around with lightning fast speed. Jungkook stood at the doorway, beaming a big bunny smile at you. You ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. 

“Surprise,” he smiled.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you wiped tears from your eyes.

“I needed to see you. I was planning on coming back and surprising you even before I left. You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?” he ruffled your hair, “Oh, and those tiger flowers are beautiful,” he nodded over to the flower bouquet on the checkout counter.

“I got them because they reminded me of you,” you blushed, your ears turning red.

“Did I hear Jungkook?” you mom poked her head out of the kitchen, “Oh my goodness! Honey look! Jungkook is back!” she called your dad. 

Your parents came out to greet him. He explained everything to them, and they congratulated him. 

“How long will you be here? Aren’t you leaving soon?” your dad inquired.

“I leave tomorrow night. I wish I could stay longer,” Jungkook answered solemnly. 

“____ suddenly doesn’t have to work until after you’ve left,” your mom smiled fondly at you.

Your eyes lit up as you kissed your parents on the cheek to thank them. After grabbing your jacket, you took Jungkook’s hand and dragged him out. You both aimlessly walked around the town as you chatted. He went more in depth with the details of his job. He was most excited about capturing photos of the city. After looking up some pictures of the architecture, he immediately fell in love with Madrid.

Jungkook invited you over to watch some of the short films he worked on over the past semester. While they were just videos of his friends with no plot, you could feel their friendship seeping through the screen. The way Jungkook played with music and colors really enhanced the already well shot video. You felt at peace sitting beside Jungkook on his bed as he showed you all his past projects. Part of you wished that this moment would never end. 

“You’ve made me a better person, you know,” Jungkook said out of nowhere, “I’m more talkative around my friends, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with being myself.”

“I didn’t do anything, that’s all you,” you smiled as you poked his chest. 

“You definitely helped,” he ran his fingers through your hair, “I love you, ____.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. I thought I’d never get to say that,” you said with a sigh of relief. 

He looked into your eyes before leaning forward slowly. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, you practically pounced on him. You kissed him passionately, as if to show him how much you missed him. Clothes were thrown in every direction leading to bare skin being exposed.

Jungkook’s soft hands roamed across your body as if he were trying to memorize your every curve. His touch was a bit rougher than the last time, his lips crashed against yours as he pinched your nipples. You couldn’t tell if it was desperation, carnal lust, or just a new side of Jungkook, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. His erection pressed against your thigh as your hands tangled themselves in his dark hair. You reached down to grab his cock, gripping from the base and slowly dragging your hand to the tip and then back down. He shuddered at the sensation, moaning into your mouth. 

“Should I get on top?” you batted your eyes.

“Nope, I have a better idea,” Jungkook growled as he flipped you over onto your knees, “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Fuck me however you want,” you answered gleefully. 

Jungkook rammed into you without hesitation. He firmly gripped your hips to keep you in place as he thrusted into you. His dick sent waves of ecstasy as he crashed into you. He surprised you when he reached his hand around you to play with your clit, causing you to squirm under him.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he ordered. 

His newfound dominance turned you on. He was no longer the baby boy that followed your every move, although you were sure that side of him was still there somewhere. You got lost in pleasure and didn’t realize how far gone you were till you felt liquid dripping down your inner thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet baby. All this for me?” Jungkook panted as he continued snapping his hips into you.

“Mhm, of course. Only for you,” you managed to moan out between thrusts.

“That’s my good girl. Get up,” he demanded as he hopped off the bed. 

You obeyed, curious as to what he was going to do. As soon as you got off the bed, he spun you around and pushed your chest back over the covers. He slipped back into you with ease, groaning as your slick juices coated his cock. This new position enabled Jungkook to directly hit your g-spot with each thrust. Again, his hand wrapped around your waist to find your clit. His other hand found purchase on your neck, slightly choking you. The overstimulation had you crying out in bliss that you had never experienced before.  

You were practically gushing now as your wetness ran down your legs and sprayed onto Jungkook’s thighs with each strong impact.  Jungkook lifted up one of your legs onto the bed, spreading your pussy.

“Now touch yourself for me,” Jungkook directed.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your legs started to shake as you played with your clit at the perfect pace while Jungkook drilled into you. You were sure that you had already came numerous times by this point, but you could feel the grand finale soon approaching.   

“Jungkook I--” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence as you climaxed onto his dick. He was infatuated with the way you looked from behind, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He pushed you back onto the bed with your legs still hanging from the edge. He reinserted himself while you laid there, completely delusional from the pounding you had been receiving. 

“You’re such a sexy woman,” he moaned as he anchored the weight of his arms onto your shoulders. 

He continued his torment downwards. Your bountiful cheeks bounced back and forth while he repeatedly rammed into your g-spot causing you to release more of the juices his massive cock craved. 

 He slowed his pace but still kept going to help you ride out your high for as long as possible. The sensation of you cumming on him was enough to bring him right to the brink of no return.

“Can I cum on you?” he pleaded in a tone all too familiar to you.

“Please do,” you nodded.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he gave you a couple more hard thrusts before pulling out and coating your ass with white strings. 

Jungkook held you in his arms after wiping you down with a towel, both of your chests heaving in sync. You both managed to work up a sweat, but Jungkook still smelled amazing. He played with your hair as your eyelids started to get heavy. 

“_____,” he whispered softly.

“Yes, Jungkook?” you replied with your eyes still closed. 

“Come with me.”

“What?” your eyes shot open. 

“Come with me to Spain. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t care. You’ll finally get the adventure you’ve always wanted, and we’ll do it together,” he kissed your forehead. 

His unexpected proposition had you overwhelmed. You were speechless. You would go with him in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t matter where you’d go, as long as you were with him. 

“Jungkook...you know I can’t do that,” you fought back tears, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. 

“I wanted to ask your parents as soon as I arrived but you rushed me out too quickly and--”

“I can’t leave them, you know that,” silent tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“I think they’d understand. Plus, you’ve said that they’ve tried to convince you to go to college,” Jungkook was getting desperate, he thought you’d agree on the spot.

“They need my help now more than ever. My parents are getting old. As much as I want to leave this place, I can’t. I’m going to be stuck here forever. I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you wept.

“It’s okay, ___. We can ask them tomorrow, how does that sound?” he rubbed your back. 

“No, I can’t do that to them. You know they’ll say yes. I have to stay,” you sniffled.

“You’re a great daughter. I can’t force you to come with me. I’ll miss you. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Jungkook’s voice started to falter.

“Don’t worry about me. Go live out your life. Eat great food. Take beautiful pictures. Meet pretty girls,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“You think I want to meet pretty girls? Why would I do that when I have you,” he hugged you tightly.

“We aren’t even dating, Jungkook. I don’t want to hinder you more than I already have,” you blurted. 

“I...I know we aren’t dating. Not officially. But that’s just a stupid label. I want to be with you,” Jungkook’s voice softened to hide his pain. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said as you got up.

Jungkook immediately pulled you back into him. Your nose brushed against his wet cheek, causing you to freeze up when you realized that he had also been crying.

“Please stay with me. At least just for tonight,” he pleaded.

“Alright. I can do that,” you softly kiss him. 

You woke up the next morning with your head on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook looked adorable while he was asleep, with his mouth agape and his hair falling messily over his forehead. You tried to inch away, but he just pulled you closer, making it impossible to escape. 

He woke up with a yawn a couple minutes later. He smiled down at you before ruffling your hair.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry about last night. I--”

“Let’s not talk about it. This is my last day with you for god knows how long. Let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?” he interrupted you.

It had been three years since that spring when you met Jungkook. You sometimes reminisce about the times you had with Jeon Jungkook. It honestly felt like a dream. Communication with him slowly faded away, and now the only conversations you had with him were one message long during birthdays and holidays. You kept up with him more through Instagram. He regularly uploaded his beautiful pictures, and you could tell that his talent only grew. He had a knack for making dull buildings and streets come to life. 

Your parents planned to retire soon, leaving you to tend to the bakery by yourself. They mainly managed the front-of-house work during the busy hours now. Their goal was to finally sell the bakery, but you protested against it. As much as you wanted to be rid of the chains that tied you down, you were scared. You didn’t know what you would do if the bakery was suddenly gone. It was all you’ve ever known. 

Ever since your parents announced their retirement plans, you started to dabble in pastry making. They were impressed with your skills, and your creations got added to the menu. Word spread that the already famous bakery was now carrying delicious pastries, and business soared. 

You were busy decorating your latest desserts when your mother came into the kitchen.

“Your father and I have to go run a quick errand, we’ll be back soon!” she said before giving you time to protest. You grumbled to yourself as you placed strawberries on your cakes, praying that no one would come in.

“Hello? Anyone here? The sign says open,” someone called from the front.

‘God dammit’, you thought before putting on a fake customer service smile. 

“Welcome to--” you stopped in your tracks.

Jungkook was standing in the middle of your bakery, looking even more handsome than you had remembered him. His face lit up as soon as he saw you. You couldn’t help yourself as you ran towards him, colliding into him with a forceful hug.

“I hear you sell desserts now,” he grinned.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here? Your hair, it’s so long! And...do you have tattoos now?!” you were in shock. 

“Do I look more artsy now?” he laughed, “I came to see you. I wanted to try your desserts too, of course. No one would believe me when I said nothing can compare to your family’s bakery. Oh, I have a present for you.”

You became giddy with excitement as Jungkook brought out a brown paper bag and handed it to you. You pulled out prints of a beautiful girl standing in a forest. Wait...it looked familiar…

“Is this me?” you asked as your mouth hung open.

“Yeah, these are the pictures from when you took me on that picnic. Would you believe me if I said I barely had to touch anything up? They were already nearly perfect,” Jungkook said proudly.

“It’s because you’re a talented photographer,” you smiled.  

“That, and because I had the perfect model. How could I not ask the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen to model for me?” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“So I wasn’t just practice?” you recalled asking him about it all those years ago.

“I was so nervous back then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth,” he laughed, “I’m much more open now.”

You promptly switched the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’ and sat Jungkook down. You brought out one of your fresh strawberry cakes, eager to hear his opinion. His face contorted with pleasure as he took the first bite. He complimented the flavors and textures, saying that everything tasted like perfect harmony. You laughed together as he shared stories of his time abroad. He intently listened while you opened up about the struggles of the bakery. 

“Anyway, that’s enough complaining for now. I’m happy you’re back! How long are you staying for this time?” you tilted your head. 

“Depends,” Jungkook answered as he gazed out the window. He looked back at you with a serious expression. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you close, bringing your face just inches away from his.

“Do you still want to explore the world?” he asked.

“Of course, that’ll never change. But...you know I can’t,” you answered somberly. 

“After everything you just told me, you still think you have to stay here?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, “My next gig is going to be in France. Come with me this time, _____.”

You stared at him with a stunned expression. You thought he had forgotten about you. Now here he is, asking you to run away with him again.

“Why did you lose touch? I thought you had moved on. I made peace with that. God, it hurt like hell, but I came to terms with it. And now we’re doing this again,” your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes.

“Honestly, it hurt me too much. I couldn’t bear talking to you every day or video chatting you, without knowing when I’d see you next. I never stopped thinking about you. I tried. I tried to forget...but no one could ever come close to you,” Jungkook cupped your cheek in his palm, “There’s a really good patissiere academy close to where I’ll be working. You could go there and sharpen your skills! Then maybe one day open up a bakery of your own...if you wanted.”

“But what about my parents--”

“Stop using us as an excuse to hold yourself back,” your mom scolded you as she entered the bakery.

“Did you like your surprise?” your dad winked.

“You knew?” you were bewildered.

“Jungkook contacted us a while back, asking if we thought his plan could ever be a possibility. I figured you were still head over heels for him since you never dated anyone else,” your mom shrugged.

“If you want to go, go. Don’t worry about us. We can sell the bakery, and finally retire,” your dad said. 

“You have your parents’ blessing, ____. This decision is entirely up to you. What’s it gonna be? Will you come with me to France?” Jungkook asked again.

“I..,” you looked at your parents before your eyes wandered back to Jungkook, “Yes. I’d love to,” tears of joy rolled down your cheeks.

Jungkook got up and embraced you in a tight hug before he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much,” in your ear. 

“Well, we better start packing,” Jungkook turned to your parents.

“Packing? Already?” your eyes widened. 

“We leave by the end of the week!” Jungkook gleefully took your hand and dashed out of the store. 

Jungkook dragged you through the town up to your house. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched his long hair bounce around while you ran. You could’ve sworn that sometimes they looked like bunny ears.

He was definitely Jungkook, but he seemed like the upgraded version of the shy boy you once knew. He had a new confident aura around him, and he seemed more manly than boyish now. Everything was happening so quickly, but you were nothing but excited for the adventures to come. 

As long as Jungkook was by your side, you were ready to take on the world. 

Published March 26, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[malfoysstilinski]

Hello love, I absolutely adore your writing. <3 Could you maybe do a tooth-rotting dracoxreader fluff. It can be anything, I just love soft draco sm haha. Tbh I feel like theres no such thing as too much soft draco asjdkhfask.

thank you so much!! hope this is okay :)) 

post shower | draco malfoy (fluff) 

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you like picking out draco’s clothes for him and playing with his hair after he’s had a shower. and he’ll never admit it, but he likes it too.

warnings: extremely healthy relationship and soft!draco

word count: 1.9k

a/n: there’s a part where draco plays with your hair and i’m sorry if it’s not inclusive to yours (curly, afro-textured, braided etc.), i generally try to keep my imagines inclusive but this idea was just stuck in my head!! it’s quite brief but i thought i’d acknowledge that i realise some poc readers and others with curly hair just might not be able to relate and i’m really sorry about that!! :( but again, it doesn’t make up the whole imagine! <33

also not proof-read!! 

....

18.00. my dorm. prepare for cuddles.

my mother sent over some more of

those sweets you said you liked.

yours, draco

The ripped piece of parchment in your hand included an inked sketch beneath it; the image of a wrapped sweetie surrounded by some scribbled-out love hearts. Your heart skipped a beat at the message written in Draco’s usual rushed cursive, a small smile threatening to twitch at the corners of your lips. Glancing up towards the direction the charmed crane had come in, you sent the blond boy already watching you a small nod of confirmation.

A wink was your reward before he turned back to face Professor Snape at the front of the classroom. It made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies as you wondered how you’d ended up with a boyfriend as perfect as Draco Malfoy.

Not many would theorise that he was a secret romantic, but then again, not many truly knew Draco for who he actually was. You adored him - the way he looked, the way he smelled, how he loved you, his voice, his laugh, his jokes, and his sarcastic comments. If there was one person on the planet guaranteed to make you smile, it was the Malfoy heir.

You were thrilled to be invited back to his dorm, even if this was quite a regular occurrence that you probably should be more used to by now. The thought of spending the evening after a long day of lessons with Draco cuddled up on his bed eating sweets sent by his mother sounded like a dream come true. There was no other way you’d rather spend your time.

The rest of the day couldn’t have gone by slower, though. You finished your classes and then skipped dinner to shower, knowing you’d be stuffing your face later anyway. By the time you’d slipped on comfier clothes than your school uniform and had dried your hair, it was nearly time for you to head to Draco’s dormitory. He was lucky enough to have his own one as a prefect, with a huge bed and silk green sheets that felt amazing against your skin.

You did some last minute homework for your Herbology class in the morning, though your mind seemed to constantly drag back to your boyfriend. He was like some sort of drug and you clearly had an addiction.

Perhaps the best part was that the love she had for Draco was mirrored back onto her by the boy; their love was a redamancy to be jealous of. Students and teachers alike could see the adoration in their eyes when they looked at each other. They saw the grin on your face and the slight blush on Draco’s cheeks and knew that if what you two had wasn’t love, then love didn’t exist at all.

You had your ups and downs, of course you did. No relationship was ever always perfect. However, it was the way you were constantly able to bounce back and be stronger than before that kept the fire burning between the two of you. It was the way that Draco had worked on his communication, knowing it was the only way he’d be able to keep you, and how you’d worked on being more patient with him that meant the two of you could fall so indescribably in love.

So when you turned up to Draco’s dormitory at exactly 6 pm sharp, you opened the door without knocking, more than certain he wouldn’t mind. He never did. However, Draco was nowhere to be seen in his room. You thought maybe you’d managed to read the note wrong until you heard the running water coming from his bathroom.

You smiled to yourself as you headed towards his bed, dropping on top of the silky sheets you loved so much, your fingers tracing on top of it. Your ears strained to listen out for Draco, a deep hum filling your ears that you knew belonged to him. He had a good singing voice, but he refused to believe it whenever you told him.

You closed your eyes and listened as he hummed in the shower, his voice echoing off the walls in a way that had you wishing you could not only listen but watch him sing it. You weren’t sure when Draco stopped humming or when the water shut off, but the next thing you knew, the bathroom door was opening, steam rolling out as well as the scent of his green apple shampoo.

“Ah, darling,” Draco greeted upon seeing you lying on his bed.

You sat up, beaming at him. A white towel hung around his hips, his platinum hair wet on his head and dripping down his broad shoulders onto his platinum skin. You thought he looked beautiful like this, like some sort of God you’d like to worship. Especially with the smile that he wore upon his face, one that was reserved for you and you only.

“Hi, my love,” you said back, watching as he began to hunt through his drawers for something to wear. “You said six.”

“I must have lost track of time,” Draco admitted, “Cold days are meant for hot showers, you know.”

“No, cold days are meant for cuddles with your girlfriend,” you protested, but nevertheless scooted off the bed to join him by his dresser. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Y’wanna dress me up again, don’t you?” Draco acted as if he was annoyed, but a smile was threatening to tug at his lips.

“It’ll be cosy, ‘promise,” you replied, your hands moving through his dresser, hunting for the pair of black jogging bottoms that you liked on him. “Top or no?”

“No,” Draco replied as he stood in front of his mirror, towel drying his hair.

You found a pair of socks for him too, knowing how he hated if his feet got cold. As Draco cast a charm to dry his blond locks, you settled everything on the end of his bed for him and then began hunting through his drawers once more. You found one of his black tees and pulled your own off, shrugging his on instead.

Arms wrapped around your waist as soon as it went over your head and you shrieked as you were hauled onto his bed. You laughed as Draco suddenly crawled between your legs so he was straddling you a little, his fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Did I say you could wear that, pretty girl?” Draco fauxed a glare.

“Please,” you pouted at him. “It’s comfy and smells so good. Like you.”

Draco rolled his eyes in amusement, smiling again as he kissed your forehead. “You’re lucky you’re so gorgeous. Can’t say no when you pull that face, can I?”

You beamed, feeling your cheeks heat up a little bit. You realised Draco had already pulled the joggers and socks on, his top half naked as he moved to grab his comb off of the dresser.

“Let me do it for you,” you said, holding your hand out.

Draco shot you a look. “Not a doll for you to dress up, you know.”

“‘Just wanna comb your hair for you,” you huffed, sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over the mattress.

Draco moved to stand in between them, your face level with his body as he began to brush the comb through the back of your own hair. Smiling, you leaned your head against his stomach, wrapping your arms around his middle and enjoying the sensations and tingles that Draco brushing your hair spread through your body.

Your eyes closed and you swore you could fall asleep like it - one of his large palms on your back, his comb brushing through your hair, the warmth of his toned stomach against your cheek and the smell of his aftershave and body wash fresh in your senses.

“You washed your hair, didn’t you?” Draco hummed, his hand moving off your back as he ditched the comb, his fingers playing with it.

“Yeah, had a shower before I came here,” you murmured, not peeling your eyes open, just relishing in the feeling of complete relaxation with your favourite person in the entire world.

“I can tell,” Draco murmured, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your newly-combed hair. “Your hair is really soft after washing it.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling a little against him. “That’s kind of the point of washing your hair, you know.”

“No, it’s to keep it clean,” Draco protested.

“It’s for both,” you compromised, knowing how stubborn he could get quickly. “Now can I comb your hair.”

About a minute later, Draco’s room was playing music quietly and he was slouched between your legs on the bed, the bag of sweets his mother had bought you both on his lap. Your back rested against the headboard behind you, your hands brushing through his silky platinum locks. You put the comb down, beginning to part his hair into tiny sections.

“Sweet?” Draco offered, his mouth full as he lifted his arm behind himself.

He felt you lean forwards and capture the sweet between your teeth from where your hands were occupied in his hair, making him chuckle. Draco knew you were making small plaits with the longer sections of his hair, but he closed his eyes and pretended he had no idea. To be honest, he cherished the feeling of you being so close to him, of your hands in his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp every now and then.

“Feels good?” You hummed, glancing down at him and seeing that his silver eyes had shut.

They flickered back open at your question, smiling when he saw you looking down at him. “A bit,” he admitted, which was an under exaggeration. He loved it.

“‘Nother sweetie, please,” you called as you moved onto your third tiny plait.

Draco’s hand came back over and fed the sweet straight into your mouth. You giggled as you carried on plaiting, humming lightly to yourself. A tug a little harder than the rest caused Draco to dramatically cry out.

“Ow!” Draco hissed, “Watch what you’re doing, woman!”

“Shh, I’m just braiding your hair,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “And if you call me woman like that one more time I will shove this comb so far up your arse-”

“Okay, okay,” Draco winced at the imagery. “By woman I meant ‘my lovely, beautiful, sweet, kind, intelligent girlfriend who I love with my whole heart’.”

“You’re such a kiss arse, Malfoy,” you replied, running your hand over the small plaits you’d created. “They look cute. You should grow your hair out like your father so I can do really good ones-”

“Y/N!” Draco grimaced, “If I ever grow my hair out as long as my fathers, feel free to cut it off for me in the middle of the night.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you cradled his head in your lap, your nails lightly scratching his skin. “Okay, okay. I like you with this haircut anyway. And I like the lack of gel in it. Looks so fluffy and cute.”

“Not what I’m going for, but thanks, darling,” Draco remarked, grabbing another sweet for himself. “You’re comfy, by the way.”

You simply hummed back as you began to undo the plaits, knowing Draco would be annoyed if you forgot and he had little curly bits in the morning. You grazed your fingers back through, watching his eyes flicker back.

“I love you,” Draco murmured sincerely. “So much.”

Your heart swelled. “I love you too, Draco.”

taglist: @lolooo22 @yyoflam @fjorelaant @cpetrova @bby-gxrnet @draysslytherclaw @dawnmalfoy @miarivic @hpotter3390 @justfangirlthingies @fleurwands @hufflepuffsophie @riddleswh0r3crux @dracosathenaeum @weaselbrownie @Dracoscumwh0re @miraclesoflove @wh0re4blaise @ilovemoviekidd826 @drarrysimp @secret-obsessions @writeandtranslate @aetheralist @wholebigboxofyikes @honeyloverogers @icecubewhat @edithreads @abbott27 @Sweetvnlla @skaratjung @dlmmdl @sw33tgirl @ayaosk @acosmis-t @astoria-malfcy 

[wandaromanova]

“And I... Am...” [2]

A Natasha Romanoff x Gn!Avenger!Reader story

warnings: fighting, little bit of violence, angst, death (let me know if i should add any!)

A/N: Ahhh, here’s the final part of this very brief series. i hope you all enjoy and if anyone would like me to write something else my asks are open. thank you for reading! <3

tagging: @username23345

summary: 5 years ago, the avengers lost. half the world may have been taken away, but Y/N’s entire world faded to nothing in their arms. they would do anything to bring everyone back, most especially the love of their life. whatever it takes.

Part 1

Word Count: 3.7K words

(gif is not mine)

5 years. 5 years without seeing her bright, pearly white smile. 5 years without her sarcastic comments and snarky remarks. 5 years without her messy red hair sprawled across her pillow as she sleeps peacefully beside you. 5 years without her warm hugs as her lavender scented perfume invades your senses. 5 years without long nights of cuddling in each other’s arms as you watched the cheesy romcoms of your choice. 5 years without waking up to her playfully kissing your face. 5 years without her standing by your side during missions. 5 years without your little dinner dates that you both decided to go on whenever you both had the time. 5 years without her teasing kisses against your neck that made you laugh as hard as ever before. 5 long, long years without Natasha Romanoff.

Everyday without her was agonizingly slow. Every part of your shared apartment a constant reminder of your failure. Your failure to protect the world, the failure of protecting your world. Natasha always ensured your safety and protection when you needed her most, and the time she needed you; you astronomically failed her. Your heart ached every night as you fell asleep, even more so in the mornings. The mornings were the worst as you would reach over to her side of the bed, expecting to feel her peaceful form breathing steadily next to you, but you are only met with the cold white sheets of your once shared bed. The cold sheets a heartbreaking contrast to her warm body.

You didn’t get a single night of uninterrupted rest, as the memory of Natasha fading to nothing in your arms would replay over and over like a song stuck in your head. You cried the first time you returned home on that fateful day. The walls of your apartment holding the memories of happier times, when she was still alive. Her coffee cup that she never washed and left on the counter every morning still sitting where she left it that very day. You didn’t have the heart to move it. You didn’t dare to move any of her things, leaving them where she had placed them. You wore all of her hoodies though, as they still held her scent. However, you went through all of her hoodies quickly, her scent fading away just like she had. You considered not staying in the apartment, the memory of her making it hard to breathe within the confines of your shared space. But, you didn’t have the heart to leave it either. Leaving your home felt like leaving her, although your true home was her.

You tried to hold out hope though. Every single day you would go to the Avengers Compound and oversee any occurrences. You would communicate with any avengers that were not in New York or simply not on earth such as Captain Marvel, Rocket, Rhodes, and Okoye. You got consumed by your need to compensate for the failure that changed your life and absolutely wrecked your self-esteem. Although you were stuck in the past, some of the other avengers tried to move past it. Tony and Pepper brought a beautiful daughter named Morgan into the world, you were so happy for them, albeit a bit envious. Steve joined a support group, Clint was.... somewhere doing lord knows what. But you remained in the compound, constantly ignoring your own well-being, unable to stomach the failure and desperately trying to find something to hold out hope. However, your stubbornness was not for naught, as one day, while Steve visited you at the Compound, Scott Lang appeared at the front of the Compound. As he explained about Quantum Physics and the possibility of time travel, hope made its way back to you full force. You could all quite possibly make things right again. This spark of hope didn’t ignite within you only, but it also coursed through the remaining avengers when they were informed of the insane, but good idea of time travel.

——————————————————————————

Time travel. That’s our only hope of restoring what used to be. It sounds absolutely insane, but it’s the only option we have. Just the fact that there even is an option, is a miracle. Tony took a little bit of time to be on board with the idea, but he came around and now all the avengers stand together on the platform. Clint and Rhodey were set to go to Vormir. You, Tony, Banner, and Steve were to go to New York. Nebula went to Morag, Thor and Rocket went to Asgard while Scott stayed behind. What felt like hours for the team, was only a minute in real time. As you all made it back to the present, you looked around at the entire team. “Did we get them all?” You turn to your right and look at Banner. “You mean to tell me this actually worked?” You asked with a wide smile. Suddenly, a thud is heard to your left.

The entire team looks at Rhodes, he is soaked and it is then you notice Clint’s absence. “Rhodey? Where’s Clint?” You ask nervously. Rhodes just looks up at the team with sorrow evident in his eyes. The whole room knew what that meant as it fell silent, you dropped to your knees. You were as close to Clint as Nat was, given he was your girlfriend’s best friend. Your soul was absolutely crushed by the news, and the fact that someone would have to tell his family about his sacrifice to bring everyone back was heart crushing. However, Clint’s death only fueled the motivation to get this over with once and for all. No one had time to truly mourn as now that the team retrieved the stones, the stones just needed to be placed into the gauntlet.

However, this was not the hardest part, no. The hardest part was figuring out who should actually snap their fingers. Thor, Tony, and yourself offered to do the snap, but Banner immediately intervened. “It’s gotta be me. You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive.” He said solemnly. “How do we know you will?” You asked him seriously. “We don’t, but the radiation is mostly gamma. It’s like, I was made for this.” He finished off, and everyone in the room begrudgingly agreed. Unfortunately, before Banner could even put his hands on the gauntlet, the compound was attacked by a huge explosion, sending everyone flying in different directions, some knocked out by the impact and buried beneath rubble.

——————————————————————————

You wake up with a groan, you entire body is aching. You slowly open your eyes and take in your surrounds. You are buried beneath the concrete of the compound. The once magnificent architectural building, now a destroyed foundation. You look to your right and notice that water is flooding into the area where you, Rhodes, and Rocket are trapped. You noticed that Rocket and Rhodes are both trapped under a piece of cement and you use your powers to lift it off of them before dropping it back onto the ground with a grunt.

You speak into comms, “Is anyone there? We’re trapped and are unable to get out of here. I can hold off the water, but I can’t get us back to the surface.” Your powers are strong, but it will take a great deal of energy to get yourself, Rhodes, and Rocket out of here. You have no clue how deep you guys are below the surface. But you could at least hold off the water until someone is able to save you all. Scott replies and says “I’m on my way, I’ll get you guys.” And you mumble a “thanks” before asking another question, “How on earth did this happen?” you ask this as you use your powers to form some sort of blockade to keep the water from drowning you all. Scott suddenly appears, going back to his regular size and says “Nebula was compromised. You guys better hang onto something,” as he turns into a giant and breaks you all out of the concrete cage you were held in.

As you all return to the surface, Scott places the three of you on the ground. You take notice of the state of Steve, Tony, and Thor. They are badly beaten as Thanos cowers over them. Your eyes widen as you notice the ships approaching behind Thanos, along with his army of thousands. You, Rocket, Rhodey, (and Gamora??) together, ready to attack. You have no time to question Gamora’s sudden seeming resurrection as you notice Banner is the only one missing from the bunch, nowhere to be seen. You turn to everyone as you point at the gauntlet in Gamora’s arms and speak “Protect that gauntlet at all costs, don’t let him get to it. As soon as Banner is spotted, give it to him so he can do the snap and end this, once and for all. Understand?” Everyone nods in acknowledgement at your words.

A sense of deja vu hits you as you turn to face the impending battle. Once again you all are drastically outnumbered, you all must stand and fight against Thanos once more. The only differences being that you all are 5 years older, half of the universe’s population is gone, and Natasha is not by your side. The entire team is angered that this happened in the first place and the desire and will to defeat the mad titan is as strong as its ever been. You all failed to protect the world and your loved ones once, you all refused to lose this battle again. You all have something to fight for. You all attack and after what felt like hours of fighting Thanos’ army, you notice Scott running with the gauntlet, and your eyes widen as Thanos makes his way towards Scott. You quickly throw the enemies you were dealing with, with the flick of your hand and rush for the titan head-on.

Using your vibrant blue powers, you strike Thanos with a powerful beam of energy. Thanos tries to block himself but is a little too late as he’s sent flying back. “You took everything from me.” You say angrily and with a vengeful conviction as your eyes turn blue and your blue powers waver across your hands, levitating you a few feet off the ground. The titan stares at you as he stands and says “I don’t even know who you are.” You look at him and tilt your head, and reply with a dangerous calmness, “You will.” You then end up encasing Thanos, holding him up high in the air, your powers acting as blue hands. You squeeze him with all the strength you can conjure up and start to rip off his armor without laying a finger on him. “Rain fire!” The titan exclaimed to his servant. “But sire, our troops.” “Just do it!” Thanos screams. Unfortunately, you were so caught up in your rage that you failed to notice what Thanos was saying. You were soon knocked out with a powerful blast from a ship above you. Your grip on Thanos no more as you flew across the field and were knocked unconscious.

——————————————————————————

You wake up and groggily try to take in your surroundings. Your entire team beat to the ground. Banner, Scott, and Clint are unconscious, and the rest of the team are too weakened to move. Captain Marvel was also here, when she got here? You have no idea, but that doesn’t matter as she was knocked out as well. However, at least the giant ships and Thanos’ army had been taken out. You guys did impressively well considering how outnumbered you all were. You look away from your battered teammates beside you and you feel panic wash over you. Above you, the massive titan stands, placing the gauntlet on his hand. No. He CANNOT get that gauntlet, you think in a panic. However, your body is too weak to get up, you still try to stand with every ounce of strength that’s left in your body, but to no avail. All of a sudden, you feel a tingling sensation from your hands that you have never felt before.

You look at your hands and notice little sparks of electricity forming. This has never ever happened before, your powers are a dark blue and are more like laser beams than sparks. What is happening? As you stared at your hands, you failed to notice Mjölnir rising beside Thor. Mjölnir abruptly launches itself into your hand, and you suddenly feel a surge of electricity flow through your veins, giving you a spark of energy. The people who are still conscious are shell-shocked as they had all tried and failed to wield the mighty hammer. You yourself had even failed to lift Mjölnir all those years ago before the Ultron situation, but now here you were, worthy and determined to win this battle. As you attempt to stand once more, Thor joyfully exclaims “I knew it!” At Thor’s words, Thanos stomps on Thor, successfully knocking the Asgardian God out cold.

You rise to your feet, the only thing on your mind being that you need to bring Natasha back. You charge at Thanos, rising off the ground as your dark blue powers mixed with the lightning of mjölnir radiate off of you. You struck the titan with a powerful, concentrated hit with Mjölnir before using up the most power you ever have. You manage to do damage to Thanos, but with the gauntlet on he manages to use the stones to fight against your own powers. As he hits you, he fails to notice you exchange the gauntlet with the stones, with another gauntlet that he failed to notice lying on the ground. As your body is flung like a ragdoll across the floor, you look up as Thanos says “I... am inevitable.” And he snaps his fingers, but nothing happens. He, along with everyone else looks confused as he does this. All of them were puzzled, except for you.

You get on your knees and place the real gauntlet on. The energy so powerful as it courses through your veins, it’s an intense burn as if your blood was made of fire, pumping through every part of your body. You look around at the team, the people you have grown to love and call a family. You know that this will be the end of you, but you are content with that. What better way to go than saving the world and bringing the love of your life back? The team seems aware of your fate as well, the sadness evident on the faces of the broken down avengers. It hurt them, but they knew it had to be done. They couldn’t stop you, even if they tried. You already had the gauntlet on and you had made up your mind. After one last glance at your family, you focus back on Thanos, who stares at you in shock. A human wielding the stones, that was a sight for sore eyes. The snap almost killed Thanos the first time, imagine now? You have powers of your own, yes, but you’re still a human. You take a deep breath, your mind is racing as it is taken over by thoughts of Natasha. How you’ll never get to see her red hair and green eyes sparkle again, how you’ll never hear her raspy laugh that warms you up inside, and how you’ll never have the future you both had always wanted together. But you remind yourself that this is all for her, and that was the final push you needed to follow through with this plan.

You stare Thanos dead in the eye again as you shakily say “I... Am...” you envision Natasha and her big bright smile as you finally say “an Avenger.” And with the snap of your fingers, a bright light consumes your body and radiates across the field. All you hear is the ringing in your ears and all you can focus on is the burning of your charred body. The conscious team members gather around you, they are all speaking to you but you can’t fully hear what they’re saying. They sound far away even though they’re right in front of you. You watch as Thanos and his little servants disappear into dust, just like half of the population did 5 years ago. You release a heavy sigh of relief at the sight.

You look back to Steve who’s directly in front of you. He reaches into his pocket and dials a number, and when he turns the phone towards you, you notice the contact name; Natasha. Steve’s eyes widen as the redhead actually answers her phone, it worked. He however, tried to swallow his shock as he let’s her know that you’ll be put on the line. He doesn’t have the heart to inform her of your condition. You use every muscle in your body just to reach out for the phone and grasp it in your hand. “Hello? Y/N, baby?? Where are you?? What happened??” You smile widely at the sound of her deep, raspy voice as your eyes slowly start to close. The team panics as they try to convince you to keep your eyes open just a little longer, Natasha’s voice sounding more concerned and alarmed at the coaxing of the team. We did it, we really did it... she’s okay... it’s okay... is your final thought as your eyes close even further. The darkness is so tempting and you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into it, until you’re consumed by it. Never to see the light again.

——————————————————————————

2 weeks later

At your funeral, Nat was suspiciously devoid of emotion as the ceremony commenced. It was so weird for the team to see and they were genuinely worried. Natasha was always sure to not make her emotions known, it’s how she was trained as an assassin, but to show no emotion after losing the love of her life? Definite cause for concern. After the beautiful ceremony and burial, the team all returned to Tony’s cabin, he let the team know that there was something he needed to share with them. Tony stands before the team in his living room and places his iron man helmet on the mantle. He clears his throat before he begins, “Before the time heist, Y/N approached me and asked me a favor. They borrowed my iron man helmet and asked me to play this recording if things went south. So, this is me fulfilling their final wish.”

You appear as a hologram, sitting on a chair in your time heist suit. “So, if you’re watching this.. that means that I’m... yanno” and you make a throat slicing motion with a little laugh. You then realize that the people watching this will most likely not find humor in your little joke and immediately stop laughing. “I hope that in watching this, that means that we succeeded in bringing everyone back. It’s all we have been hoping and praying for, for the past 5 years. And I pray to God... or to Thor... that it worked out.” You actually laugh at your terrible attempt at a joke. Everyone in the room laughs at your corniness with tears in their eyes.

“If we did win, that must mean that you’re here Natasha.” You pause and take a deep breath. At the mention of the redhead, the room falls silent as Nat watches intensely, desperate to hear what you have to say to her. You proceed, your voice wavering as you were overcome with emotion, “I’m so sorry that I had to leave you so soon. I’m so sorry that we’ll never have the chance to get married and have little rascals of our own running around a little farmhouse of our own in the middle of nowhere like we always dreamt of. But, the day you left me, those 5 long years ago, a part of me left with you. And I would do anything to get you back, and I’m sure I’ve proven that to be true if you’re seeing this.” You take another break as your voice starts cracking, as Natasha finally let a tear escape.

You suddenly stand up, and move over to the camera, staring directly into it with an intense gaze. “But Nat, baby, you have to listen to me when i say that this is not the end of the world. It may feel like it, but I promise you it’s not. Those 5 years without you, I felt as though I was drowning in grief and despair, but then hope made its way into my life when Scott suddenly appeared on the steps of the compound. And I promise you that you will have hope again, not for my return, but for happiness in your life again, without me.” At your words, Natasha shakes her head furiously as silent tears steadily fall across her pale cheeks.

You giggle “I know you won’t believe me right now, but you will one day my love. You were wrong that day in Wakanda. You WILL survive this. You must move on eventually, as impossible as it sounds and as much as it kills me to say. Please do not give up on the world, don’t push everyone away, but let them in. I gave my life up so you could live yours, and I know you wouldn’t let my life go to waste.” You stop and look down at your watch. “I have to go now, if this time heist thing goes to plan, then everyone who vanished will return. God, I hope so.... I love you Natalia Alianovna Romanova.” You look down at your hands, and back up at the camera and say your final words.

“Remember...” you begin while moving closer to the helmet, “You could never lose me moya lyubov... I’m yours forever.” You smile tearily and the recording ends. Those last words were what finally did it for Natasha. All the emotion she was keeping bottled up broke loose and she had no control of the wheel of her emotions as she slammed head first into a breakdown. Natasha cried in sorrow as she mourned the possibilities that are no longer possible and screamed out in anguish for the unfulfilled promises of a happy, long life with you by her side.

The world had won, but Natasha had lost her world.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Sam Holland - Don't Tell

A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.

Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.

Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?

THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?

‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’

No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.

With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.

You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’

Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.

Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.

“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.

Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.

You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.

“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.

His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.

This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.

After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.

He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.

He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.

As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.

“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”

You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.

You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.

Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.

Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.

You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.

He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.

“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”

You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?

He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.

“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”

His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.

“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”

He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.

“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.

He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.

“Sam… please.”

He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.

“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”

You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.

You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.

Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.

“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”

This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.

As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…

“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.

He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.

Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.

“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.

He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.

Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”

Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.

Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.

“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.

He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.

They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.

“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.

His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.

“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”

You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.

His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.

“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.

He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.

“Yes, Sammy…”

Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.

Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“As fucking if,” you mumble.

“You ok?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.

“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”

He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.

“y/n!”

“What!” you bellow right back at him.

He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”

A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”

Shit.

This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.

“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.

You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.

[gotnofucks]

Loving Dodger

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Your journey of overcoming your fear of dogs to loving Dodger.

Words: 3.6k

Warning: mention of smut, language. Loads of fluff

A/N: I obviously don’t know Chris Evans, this is just a story.

MASTERLIST

+++++

Everyone was packing up and you rushed to get things in order. Your coffee had gone cold hours ago, and some poor intern would be responsible for throwing it away from wherever you had left it. Working in the film industry could be rough, and this was just backstage. You went through the set, automatically putting things in order as you moved and waved goodbye to others. Stuffing the last of your things in your overstuffed bag, you left to find a taxi. You were glad you weren’t working tomorrow morning, for you planned to have a long hot shower and an undisturbed sleep after a long time.

It was late at night and no taxis came your way. You hated taking an Uber this late, but desperate times call for desperate measures. You had only just taken out your phone when a car stopped in front of you. The driver’s side door opened, and a smiling Chris Evans greeted you.

“Can I give you a ride milady?” He asked and you snorted.

“You have the worst English accent. If you do that in London, they’ll smell the imposter in you” You said. “And it’s cool, I’m calling an uber.”

Chris frowned, leaning against the door with arms spread, his few sizes short, too tight shirt stretching over his broad frame. You felt like he needed to be arrested for the cardiac arrests he may cause.

“At this time, and even when a handsome, chivalrous man is offering a safe ride? You wound me sweetheart.” He grabbed his left boob, faking a pained expression and you sighed.

“God, you’re awful Chris. You sure it’s okay, a little out of your way isn’t it?”

“Y/n, there is not one place in the world I wouldn’t go with you”

You let your hair form a curtain to hide your blush, clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping in his car. His car smelled like his cologne, the heady scent sticking to your clammy skin. You went for the radio, soft country music running in the background.

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” Chris asked.

“I live a boring life man. I’m probably gonna clean my shit and stock my kitchen with as much instant food as I can.”

“Well, if you want, we can go somewhere. Make your boring weekend interesting.” Chris suggested, glancing at you as he maneuvered around the traffic. You fidgeted, playing with your fingers as you avoided his eyes. Saying no to him was getting difficult every time. You wished the radio was turned up louder so this conversation could be avoided.

“Oh, you know me. I like to lay in, be a lazy girl.” You tried to say nonchalantly, and Chris’s hands clenched around the wheel. You stared out the window, watching the city breeze past as things got awkward inside. You didn’t speak until he pulled up in front of your home, and you reached for the door before the car even stopped, a farewell on your tongue when you were pulled back by the seatbelt.

You blushed, hands frantically trying to undo the clasp and Chris’s hands covered yours, releasing you. You breathed deeply as he was leaning into you, face just a few inches away. You could count his lashes this close, see the exact shape of that mole on his cheek and feel his breath on you. You pulled back, quickly opening the door and almost stepping out before you were pulled back again, this time by Chris’s hand grabbing your upper arm. He tugged you back into your seat and came close enough to touch your nose with his.

“You know you can’t keep blowing me off,” He muttered. His hand tucked your hair behind your ear, blue eyes intently looking in yours. “I can’t take your no because I know you don’t mean it. Why do you keep running away?”

You gulped uneasily, wiggling out of his grip and getting out of the car. He was still looking at you, waiting for an answer. You shook your head slightly, feet kicking the ground at your feet.

“Thank you for the ride Chris. Drive safe.”

The door swung shut behind you and you walked away without another look, hiding away inside your home and trying to calm your beating heart.

+++++

You remembered disabling your alarm last night, so what the hell was that awful noise. Burrowing your head in your pillow, you tried to go back to sleep until the pounding continued. You growled, ready to rip out a new one to whoever was stupid enough to disturb your sleep. Uncaring of your attire, the t-shirt barely reaching midthigh over your panties you marched to your door, a scowl on your face.

You ripped open your door, already mid-triad before noticing who it was.

“Look, you need to shut the hell up. I work 14 hours a day, barely eat and sleep and you trying to break my door down is not –”

Chris smiled at you, amusement glittering in his eyes which raked over your bare legs. Your mouth parted for an embarrassingly long amount of time before you remembered you bed hair, morning breath (more like mourning breath) and the ratty t-shirt with holes. You pulled down on the hem, aware that you weren’t wearing a bra and it was too late to hide.

“What the hell are you doing here at this ungodly hour?” You asked Chris and he held up his hands to show he had food.

“Ungodly? Its 10 am miss, and your loyal subject is here to feed you.”

He moved past you into your house without invite, putting down the paper bag which had grease stains on it. Despite your shock and anger, your stomach grumbled, and you shut the door behind you. You rolled your eyes at his cheek, but that stuff looked too tempting to say no to.

“Since you’ve decided to intrude on my morning, make yourself useful and put on some coffee. I’m gonna change” You said and walked towards your bedroom.

“Like the way you look!” Chris shouted from behind you and you flipped him off without looking, ignoring his chuckle.

Why the hell was he here? After the way you guys had left things last night, you would have thought he would be too pissed to talk to you. You sighed as you pulled on a bra and something other than a 10-year-old t-shirt. You found him setting the table, laying down breakfast as the smell of coffee filled the kitchen. He smiled when he saw you had pulled your hair into a messy bun and winked at you.

“Here, larger portion for you.” He said handing you a plate of your favorite food. You took it, feeling like a guest in your own home as he served and poured you a mug of coffee, made perfectly as you like it. You both ate in silence for a while, the sound of cutlery the only thing to be heard. Finally, you pinned him with a stare, pushing away your plate.

“Chris, what are you doing here? Seriously.”

He chewed the morsel in his mouth before leaning his hands on the table and clasping his hands. It felt like an interview and you wished you had something better on, like an armor, to deal with whatever he was going to say.

“Well, if you want an honest answer here, I’d say I am here because I wanted to see you. I didn’t want you having some instant meal for the 10th time this week, so I got you some breakfast.”

You looked away from him, chewing on your lip. You wished he wouldn’t be so sweet. If he were a sleazy bastard, saying no to him would be so easy. Yet, here he was getting you food and being all domestic, making your life more difficult.

“Look, I appreciate this but I – Chris, we can’t happen. You need to stop this.”

It seemed like he was contemplating you, trying to guess what went on in that head of yours. He reached across to take your hand in his, lacing your fingers and stroked.

“I can’t stop. I tried, trust me I did. I can’t. I see you on the set and I want to whisk you away in the vanity away from prying eyes. I see you anywhere at all, with any other man I want to punch his face. Y/n don’t tell me I am imagining things. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want me too, don’t you?”

The chair made a screeching noise as you snatched your hand away from his and got up, pacing the room. You were shaking your head, trying to think of a way to make him understand.

“Chris, we won’t work, you and me.”

“Why the fuck not? How can you even know if you won’t give us a chance? And I am the one who’s supposed to have fucking commitment issues.”

You wrung your hands, sitting in front of him again. He looked angry and frustrated, not knowing how much you wanted to say yes. But you knew in your heart of hearts that a very basic thing will never let you be.

“I won’t give it a chance because we’re different. We like different things, and well, sometimes they can be too much to compromise.”

“Like what, huh?”

You looked down in your lap, playing with the lint that stuck to your leggings. It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but you knew it would hold a lot of importance to this relationship. Taking a sharp breath, you told him the truth.

“I don’t like dogs. In fact, they terrify me.”

Chris lurched back as if it was the last thing he expected to come from you. He probably expected some tale of family drama or relationship trauma, but your reasons were simpler. You had cynophobia, the fear of dogs. You couldn’t be in the same room with them without getting shit scared. Chris blinked at you, like it was the dumbest thing you could have said.

“Excuse me? You refuse to go out with me because you don’t like dogs?”

You gave him a critical look, raising a brow.

“Have you seen your social media accounts? You love Dodger probably more than you love any human being. You’re a self-proclaimed ‘huge dog guy’. And me…I can’t be in the same room with one. We won’t work out Chris, and I would rather save myself the heartbreak.”

This was clearly not something Chris was prepared for. He looked baffled, not knowing what to say. You wished it were a small thing, but it wasn’t. Everyone who knew Chris could tell how much he loved dogs. His Instagram page was basically a Dodger fan page. He had the name tattooed on his body. You could never work out simply because Chris would always be choosing between you and his doggo, and you would be too busy being scared of him to enjoy your time with Chris.

He released a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.

“We’ll make it happen. A lot of people fear things, and they get over it. It can work out. When you meet Dodger, you’ll forget you’d ever been scared of a dog. He’s a good boy, trust me.”

“Chris” You said shaking your head, “You don’t understand. I like dogs but only from afar. They terrify the living daylights out of me. I just – why don’t you understand? This is already so embarrassing”

He got up and sat next to you, his hand on your shoulder. “Look, just give me one chance. I know we can be great, okay? One chance is all I am asking. If it gets too much, we end it. I promise, it will be like nothing ever happened.”

You didn’t want to believe him. You shouldn’t have, but he was the man you’d been crushing on for nearly a year now. He was smart and kind and funny, he worked for the good causes and god he was such a treat to look at. You should have said no, had your coffee and left it at that. But there was only so many times you can say no to Chris Evans, especially when he’s pursuing you like the proverbial hound of hell.

“One chance Chris.”

+++++

This was a bad idea and you were regretting it already. You were practically hiding behind Chris, bunching his shirt under both hands as your head peeked over his large body. You were not ready to meet Dodger, at least not without a bomb suit.

“Hey, relax, he’s a right love. I’ve been showing him your pictures on my phone and he loves you already.” Chris tried to placate you and you replied with a pathetic whimper.

The door had barely opened before the golden brown doggo ran towards you and you squeaked. He bounded on Chris and you, Chris laughing and rubbing him behind the ear while you backed away. Dodger kept trying to come towards you and Chris had to hold him back by the collar while offering you a hand.

“Come on Y/n, he doesn’t bite. He’s a cutie.” Chris called but you shook your head, your knees vibrating. You edged away, taking deep gulps of breath as fear overtook you. It was pathetic really how scared you were since Dodger wasn’t even a huge dog, but it still took every last bit of your willpower to not just run away.

“Chris I can’t. Please.” You begged and he must have heard the fear in your voice. He pulled Dodger inside the house, the barks getting fainter as they moved in and you stayed frozen in your track. He came out after a couple minutes and immediately took your shoulders, rubbing softly.

“Hey, hey look at me. He’s inside now, okay?”

You nodded and buried your head in his chest, feeling more embarrassed than ever. Chris hugged you, shushing you gently.

“I am so sorry Chris, I just can’t. I told you this won’t work” You said, and Chris pulled away to look in your eyes. His blue eyes were determined as they stared in yours and you blinked up at him with watery eyes.

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have sprung this up on you like this. We’ll start small, okay?” He urged and you bit your lip, uncertain. Chris rubbed his nose to yours, pressing a kiss on your lips and both your cheeks. “Please Y/n, just give me more time. We’ll work it out.”

You wanted it to work out too. The dates you had gone on had been nothing short of amazing. When you were with Chris you laughed like never before, the conversation so unrestrained. You didn’t worry about hiding your flaws, feeling so comfortable in his company. And then there was the sex. It was so good. In fact, it was spectacular.

“I don’t know how we’ll make it work.” You admitted softly and Chris smiled at you, cupping your face in his huge hands.

“We’ll do it together baby. Don’t give up on us just yet please.” You pressed your forehead to his and breathed in his scent, letting it wash over you. Nodding your affirmation, you let him lead you inside his house, Dodger locked inside the bedroom.

“I feel terrible for locking him in.” You said and you did. Just because dogs scare you doesn’t mean you hate them. You just feared going near them. You watched those cute puppy videos on YouTube to help relax yourself, only you didn’t want any dogs around you.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s with his stuffed lion.”

You cuddled on the couch, watching some 90s movie and you wished with everything that this would somehow work out.

+++++

It took you a while to decide if this was heaven or hell. You were awing and yelping simultaneously, and Chris laughed from behind you, his hands wrapped around your waist. Nuzzling his nose in your neck, he bit your ear softly uncaring of the people around you.

“Oh my god” You must have said this a dozen times already, but you were simply in awe. When Chris said you’ll start small you didn’t think he meant literally. In front of you were some of the cutest, softest, smallest puppies and you finally decided this was heaven.

“I figured we’ll begin from the beginning. Go up slowly, get you used to being around canines.” He bit you again as he said that and you giggled. Turning your head, you captured his lips in an elated kiss, touched that he was going to go through this with you.

“This is amazing.” You said and the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. He led you to the corner where a small black puppy with spots on his toes was wagging his tail at you. You awed, not afraid of him in the least.

“You wanna tell me about your phobia a little?” Chris asked as you cradled the pup in the crook of your elbow, the little darling loving your finger running over his small belly.

“It’s kinda silly but when I was four, I was chased by my neighbor’s dog. I ran like hell and it almost bit me before they got it back in control. I’ve feared them ever since.”

Chris hummed, kissing the pup in his own hands and giving you a soft smile.

“This helps?”

“This helps.” You agreed.

Chris and you must have petted a dozen puppies, holding them in your hands, cooing to them and kissing their small noses. You clicked pictures and fed them from your hands, a cacophony of kissy noises and good boys flowing from you both.

“I’m gonna have to hide these pics or Dodger is gonna get jealous.” Chris said and you snorted, snuggling into his side. It was a beautiful day at the shelter, and you were surprised at how fun it was. Tired as you were, you were also acutely aware of Chris’s hand creeping up your thigh in the car. You looked out the window, suppressing your smile.

“So, we made some progress today” He said, and you hummed. “And you had a lot of fun” You hummed again.

Chris pulled you to him roughly by your collar, his tongue poking out to just lick at your bottom lip.

“I think I deserve a reward…” He trailed off and you finally let a smile spread on your lips.

“I think you do Mr. Evans” You agreed and pressed your lips over his, hoping the driver will overlook the noises in the back.

+++++

Baby steps worked, and over the course of the next few weeks you got more comfortable around dogs. You spent a lot of time with pups of all breeds, slowly moving on to the bigger dogs. It wasn’t all easy, few visits ended in tears and hopelessness, but Chris stayed by your side. He let you set the pace, accompanying you every time and praising you for every obstacle you crossed. He didn’t mind spending most of the time at your place and waved off your apologies about Dodger.

“We’re doing this for him too, so he can get to know you better. It’s okay with me.” He assured you after a passionate round of love making. You traced Dodger’s name on his bare chest, finger roving over the other scattered tattoos. He loved it when you traced them with your tongue and bit his nipples.

“I think I’d like to try another visit with him.” You finally admitted, peeking up at him from under your lashes. Chris grinned, pulling you closer.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting.”

“I think I’m ready Chris. I want to meet the good boy who’s sharing your heart with me.”

Rolling over you, Chris pressed kisses over your collar bones and chest, hands squeezing your curves. Your lips mashed together in a sloppy kiss and you felt him smile against you.

“There is no one else I’d rather give my heart to other than you and him.”

+++++

This time when the door opened you were not hiding behind Chris. You held a soft chew toy in your hand, a gift and an apology. Dodger ran towards Chris, tail wagging aggressively as he licked and nipped at every exposed bit of skin he could find. Chris giggled as he rubbed and scratched his baby, and you were very proud of not making any distressed sound or running away. When Dodger finally turned to you, you tentatively came towards him with the toy.

“Hello Dodger, you sweet sweet boy.” You greeted. You’d been with dogs almost as big as him now and felt little apprehension touching his soft coat. He whined under your touch, leaning into you and rubbing against your legs. Chris joined you, his hand finding yours in Dodger’s fur.

“Look buddy, mummy is ready to meet you. You like her, eh?”

Dodger barked in agreement, rolling over for belly rubs while you stared at Chris coyly.

“Mummy eh?” You teased and Chris blushed, kissing you softly.

“Well, only if you’ll have Dodger’s dad.” He said.

You playfully sat down on the floor, letting the cutie climb on your lap and scratching behind his ears that made him purr in satisfaction.

“What do you say Dodge, should I take him?” You asked and he wagged his tail, rolling around in your lap. You gazed lovingly at Chris, softly touching his bearded face.

“Well, only because Dodger says so.”

+++++

Taglist:

@shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @stanmysoul @littlegasps @bluemusickid @sweeterthanthis @scentedsongrebel

[donutloverxo]

On the run

Authors note - this is a series of closly related one shots hence tagged as soft!reader. This is for Ambers challenge! Hope you like it! This is like there was only one room instead of there was only one bed.

Please do not steal or repost my works on any other site. Reblogs are welcome.

Run through - You have to go on the run with your husband and share a room with Bucky.

Warnings - smut, daddy kink, voyeurism (fucking right next to Bucky lol), cockwarming, angst

Pairing - Steve Rogers x soft!reader

Word count - 3.3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You paced back and forth in your living room. It wasn’t exactly yours but it had been your home for the past four years. Your floor to ceiling windows gave you an extensive and broad view of new York City. You were on the highest floor of the tower, it made the huge city seem so city. Usually the lights soothed you whenever you were anxious. But you weren’t sure if you had ever been so scared. Scared for your husbands life, scared for your future.

Steve had broke the law. Your Steve, the Captain America. It was so ironic. He was declared a terrorist and a wanted man. You felt as if this was a fever dream. Never in a million years did you think something like this would happen.

From what you knew Steve refused to sign the accords. Which you understood, he had his reasons and they were completely valid. You hoped the team would work it out amongst themselves and come to a compromise somehow. But from the looks of it, that will never happen. No one really asked for your opinion. Even if you were like family to them, at the end of the day you were a simple accountant turned stay at home wife. A job you had to give up to be with your Steve. When it got too dangerous for you to go out in the world. You hoped maybe just maybe, Steve would do the same for you. He talked of retiring, becoming a high school professor or working on his art. And like an idiot you let yourself indulge in that fantasy and got sweeped away.

Your life wasn’t bad by any means, in fact it was too perfect. Your friends were often envious of your perfect marriage and your dutiful husband. But you wanted more for Steve. You wanted him to slow down a bit, enjoy life, to not wake up screaming in the middle of the night in a pool of his own sweat and tears. You loved all of him, but you loved him the most when he was happy. Being an Avenger took a huge toll on him. You just wanted him to be happy.

You were being ‘escorted’ to the interrogation room. You had only been there once, to see Steve. You never thought you would be the one being interrogated.

You couldn’t help but feel resentful. You were in this grey room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, being asked all sort of intrusive questions as if you were a criminal, because of him. You gave up everything for him. You completely gave yourself to him. You didn’t have much left.

“Are you sure?” The man in the black suit asked again.

“Yes I’m sure! I think I would remember if my husband contacted me” you snapped.

“Alright. Please calm down ma'am” He said and you rolled your eyes at his patronising tone “You can leave for now but you’re not allowed to leave the premises. Let us know as soon as Rogers contacts you. If you don’t you will be an accomplice to his crimes”

His words echoed in your head on the way to ‘your' apartment. You sat back on your couch ready to drown your worries and your sorrows in some wine. The portrait Steve painted of you in a short white sundress, playing with some birds like a Disney Princess, hung on your wall almost taunting you. It was all superficial wasn’t it?

All the gifts he gave you, all the sketches he made of you. Every time he held the door open for you or tenderly made love to you, looking into your eyes and staring deep into your soul. Did all of that really matter? If he didn’t consider you or your relationship while doing something as brash as – you didn’t even know what he did. His duty won over his love for you. It always would.

You should’ve known. Your mother warned you. Told you you’re not the kind of person that would be fine with being the second or even fifth priority. Too possessive, too loving. People like you only ever get their hearts broken.

What did the future hold for you? You knew Steve, or at least you thought you did. You knew he wouldn’t help a war criminal. A terrorist. Sure said terrorist was Steve’s friend, but Steve was the kind of person that held others accountable. But at the end of the day Steve was just a human and a softie. You could see him being so loyal and going till the end of the line for his buddy.

You hummed as you felt a hand caressing your cheek. The feeling of his calloused fingers felt so familiar. It was a nice dream, an escape from this dystopian reality. You’d like to live in it forever but then your eyes snapped open as you heard him call out your name.

You sat up quickly sat up straight “Steve” you blurted out as you looked at your husband. In a dark blue, red, and white which was dirty enough to be black, suit. His short blond hair a bit frizzy, his left cheek blue and purple, unlike the neat and tidy look he usually sports. You looked into his eyes, which looked so tired and exhausted.

“We have to get out of here right now” He said gravely. But then his face softened. “It’s not safe here for you doll. I can’t leave you here, where I won’t be able to protect you” he said cupping your face with his hands.

You should have asked him a million questions. If what they were saying was true. Did he really help a terrorist? Attack his friends, whom you considered your family. But you didn’t. You simply crashed your lips upon his, taking his breathe away. It was soft, sweet but needy. Just like most of your reunion kisses. “I’ll follow you anywhere Steve” You said pulling away and looking into his sky blue eyes.

He gave your forehead a soft kiss before pulling you up. Telling you to collect your things as quickly as you can. You changed into a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, packing a few more t-shirts and pants.

“Hurry up doll we don’t have long” he urged you.

You made your way out of the apartment. You were walking to the elevator thinking you would be going down on it. “No, y/n we have to take the stairs. Come on” he took your hand.

He lead you to the emergency exit, one you didn’t even know existed. He was always good at reading and remembering maps. You smiled thinking of the time he easily got you both out of a very complicated Halloween maze.

“Steve why are we going upstairs?” You asked panting and trying your best to keep up with his face. You weren’t blessed with the super serum, you weren’t a huge fan of working out either.

“We have to take the jet and leave the country” He said rubbing your back. After a few seconds he hauled you over his shoulder “Hold on” He said sprinting up the stairs.

“Wouldn’t they notice us leaving in a literal quinjet?” You asked “What happens if you get caught Steve? What will they do to you?”

“Don’t worry about that right now” You wanted to laugh. Not worry? You were literally fleeing the country. How could you not worry.

You finally made it to the terrace, shivering in Steves hold against the chilly air Steve set you down in the jet. Before working on the kinks to get it started.

Surprisingly you made it out without anyone following you but you held your breathe. Not letting your guard down until you knew you were completely safe. As soon as you were in the air Steve put the jet on stealth mode. Finally letting his back rest against his chair and letting out a deep sigh.

“Steve” you couldn’t help the quiver in your voice trying your best to hold in your tears. “what is going on? Is it true? What they were saying?”

“What were they saying?” he said quirking a brow at you.

“That you helped a terrorist and you’re like a... war criminal now” you struggled to get the words out. Uncomfortable to even think such a thing could happen.

“You really think I could do something like that” He rested his elbows on the arms of his seat staring you down.

“I don’t. That’s why I’m here. But I have a right to know what happened”

His brows remained furrowed, as if he didn’t believe you. You had no idea how he managed to turn the whole conversation around and put you on the spot. “It’s Bucky” He said, his hard face softening.

Bucky, his best friend. Steve had carried the guilt of his death on his shoulders for years. Which only got worse when he found out that Bucky was indeed alive, being used as a weapon by hydra. “They tried to frame him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s been suffering for years”

You briskly got up from your seat as you saw the tears escape his eyes. You were selfish. Only caring about how this whole ordeal was affecting you. You couldn’t even imagine what Steve must have gone through. You sat on his lap, hugging him close to you as he held onto you so tightly, as if you would disappear if he didn’t. “Promise me you’ll never leave me” he choked out against the crook of your neck.

You ran your fingers through his hair lightly scratching his head with your nails, in the way you knew he liked. “I would never leave you Steve. I promise”

Over five hours later you made it to Moldova. A small country in eastern Europe. Steve hid the jet, saying he would need it later, since he had to come up with a plan to rescue your friends. Which would be much harder than rescuing you, they were in a maximum security prison, in the middle of a freaking ocean.

You tried your best to not think about that when you were on your way to a motel. You were nervous to meet Bucky, who Steve said would be there with you. You had never met any of Steve’s family. Since well they were dead. Back when you started dating he wasn’t really friends with his coworkers, so you never really received ‘the shovel talk' from them.

This was nerve wracking. What if he thought you weren’t worthy of Steve? Bucky was the only link to Steve’s past, his oldest friend, surely his opinion would mean the world to Steve.

“Hey it’ll be okay” Steve said squeezing your thigh from the drivers seat, something he liked to do whenever you both drove together. “I would never let anything happen to you. You know that right?” He looked at you before looking back at the icy roads.

“It’s not that. I know you’ll keep me safe Stevie. If nothing else I believe in that” You said as he gave you a small smile “this is all just overwhelming you know? I mean would we ever get to go back?” You asked although you knew neither of you knew the answer. “and then there’s Bucky”

“What about Bucky?” he asked.

“What if... he doesn’t like me? I know it’s silly!” You whined before he could make a snarky comment “We have other things to worry about and whatever but I want to make a good impression. Is there something I should remember not to do? Or to do?” You scrunched your nose at your strange question and this stranger reality. Where you get to meet your husbands best friend at the worst timing.

“Uh...” He contemplated your words for a minute “Well don’t hug him. I know you like to do that” he let out a laugh at just how sweet and likeable you are and how Bucky would love you the second he lays his eyes on you “Don’t worry sweetheart. Bucky’s the last thing you have to worry about. You wouldn’t have to even try to get him to like you”

You finally parked at the motel. Ever the gentleman, Steve held the door open for you holding your hand as you made your way up the shaky stairs. Steve knocked three times on the door before the tall brunette whom you recognised as Bucky from all his old pictures opened the door. He let you both in. You took off your coat the room wasn’t as warm as you’d like but it was definitely better than the harsh cold outside.

You watched as Steve embraced Bucky in a hug asking him how he was doing. You tried not to let your gaze linger too long on him, but you couldn’t help but admire him. He was a few inches shorter than Steve, but he had the same alert soldiery stance as Steve and the similar Brooklyn accent. Not to mention he was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. He definitely looked more aged and somehow different than in the photos.

Steve introduced you “This is my wife” He said and Bucky gave you a small smile.

“This punk couldn’t stop talking about you” He said grabbing Steve by the back of his neck.

You were happy to see that even if they both had changed over time, their friendship and bond remained the same. “Good things I hope” You playfully squint your eyes at Steve.

“I’d never say anything bad about you doll” He walked towards you kissing your forehead and putting the backpack you packed on the bed. “You must be tired, you wanna go to bed?” He sat down on the bed cracking his neck, the stress of the last few days getting to him.

You finally had a chance to look around the room. It was what you’d expect from a shady motel. White floors which were now almost yellow, torn wallpaper and an old television. But then you looked at the twin beds. Looks like you’ll have to share one with Steve. You hoped he would be able to get proper sleep, with how tired he looked he really needed it. “I’m tired?” you teased him.

After freshening up and changing into your night clothes, you settled on the bed, sighing in relief as your sore back touched the hard mattress. Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of Bucky settling in on his bed beside you and his metal hand peeking out of his long sleeved shirt. You wondered what it looked it, did it hurt him? How was he able to move it so naturally as if it’s a part of his body? You really had to bite your tongue to not let your curiosity get the best of you.

“This will have to do for tonight sweetheart” Steve said spooning you from behind and pulling you into him. You sighed out as you felt his bare and warm chest through your tank top. You wouldn’t have to worry about being chilly. Bucky turned to lay on his side away from the both of you.

You hummed as Steve snaked a hand past your tank top and resting it on your soft tummy. Drawing small random patterns on it. Bucky turned off the lights, it wasn’t completely dark, there was plenty of moonlight coming through the window. You insisted on helping Steve out of his steath suit, so you could check in on his wounds and treat them, it was a post mission ritual for you both. But Steve refused to let you in as he changed in the bathroom alone. You feared that his wounds were worse than he was letting on.

“I missed you princess” he whispered in your hair, snapping out of your thoughts. “did you miss me?”

Bucky was snoring and seemed to be in a deep slumber but just to be safe you kept your voice low “I did” You said wiggling your ass against his crotch. You weren’t surprised to find his pretty hard erection there.

“Yeah?” He smirked ghosting his fingers at the elastic of your shorts “how much” before he could dip his fingers your hands stopped him

“Not now” you whispered harshly “Bucky is sleeping right there” you scolded. How he could even think about sex right now you had no idea. You would be mortified if you Bucky woke up to find you both in the middle of it.

“We’ll just be quiet” He said slipping his fingers past your shorts and panties and between your thighs. You wanted to stop him. You really did. But you realised just how much you missed him when he brushed his fingers against your warm folds.

“I can’t be quiet! You know that” You whined as he dipped his finger in your heat. You had no idea what had gotten into him. He loved making you moan, scream and cry. Did he want Bucky to hear you both make love? Steve was more perverted than he let on but this was something even you didn’t know.

“You will try for me won’t you?” He rolled your clit between his fingers and kissed your temple to sooth your thrashing “don’t you wanna be a good girl for me? Hm?” he asked driving three of his fingers inside of you to warm you up.

You should be embarrassed at the sinful noises that your cunt was making, you could hear them clearly since you had to be quiet. But you weren’t. In the moment you just needed to cum. “I wanna cum daddy please” Your voice muffled against the pillow you had pushed your face into to drown out your moans.

“Then cum doll” he said thrusting his fingers into you with purpose.

“I wanna cum on your cock daddy” He groaned at that.

Pulling his fingers out of you. He pulled your panties and your shorts down, bringing the blankets up to your neck “You comfy princess?” You nodded. He pulled his cock out of his sweats nudging it between your buttcheeks. He pulled your bare leg placing it over his hip and holding it there as he slowly pushed into you. He pushed his other hand under you to hold onto and fondle your breasts.

In any other situation this position would be uncomfortable but right now you felt as warm and safe to be surrounded by him. You didn’t feel the need to cum anymore, content with the warmth and the weight of his cock inside you. His steady breathing and heart beat lulling you to sleep.

He didn’t like that. He snapped his hips and pushed his cock deeper inside you. “Don’t fall asleep on me now princess” He warned as he slowly fucked into you.

You dug your nails into his hand which was squeezing your breast as you tried your best to contain your moans. You let out a mewl as Steve stroked your clit while making slow love to you. You were tipped over the edge, cuming hard around his cock and on his fingers.

“Shit” He said as the pace of his thrusts increased “you’re so tight doll. So snug” He bit your ear to keep from groaning out loud. He was about to pull out of you, to clean you up with a washcloth. He wouldn’t trust the towels the hotels provided but he did see you pack a couple, he could use those.

But you tightened the grip of your leg on his hip, forcing him to stay in place. You looked over your shoulder and he could barely make out your pout in the dim light “Stay inside please. Keep me warm” You requested. He had never been good at saying no to you.

So he pecked your lips and chose to forget about the myriad of problems facing him and all of you. At least for now.

Tags will be in the reblogs! If you want to join my taglist click the link in the bio or leave me an ask!

I am sorry about the shitton of nicknames. I just like sweet nicknames ok🥺🥺

[drabbles-mc]

Try Again

Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager) (ft. Dad!Tig Trager)

Request by Anon: Kozik x female reader, where reader is Tig's first daughter (bit older than the twins, called Tawnie for lols) and no-one knows they're together, until Kozik overhears Gemma question Tawnie about the hickeys - who is like "I'm not sure whether to be mad that they're there, or mad that they're not that good" and then Kozik is pretty much like, 'challenge accepted', and Tig catches them when Kozik tries to leave better ones...?

Prequel can be found Here

Warnings: language, alcohol, slight steam

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I changed it to an OFC because the prompt felt almost a little too specific to keep it as a reader-insert lol. Hope you don’t mind! Also, y’all really like seeing Kozik come within an inch of his life with Dad!Tig lmaoooo love it

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She walked into the office with a box of files in her hands. Setting it down on Gemma’s desk, she let out a sigh. Rolling and cracking her neck, she pulled her hair back for a moment to help cool down. Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead with her hair down in the middle of summer, but things had gotten a little heated the night before and Kozik had left a scattering of hickeys on the side of her neck. The rule was always to keep it below the collar but they both got a little wrapped up in things. It wasn’t a huge deal when it happened for him—he could blame it on any of the women who hung around the clubhouse. But for her it was a bit of a tougher situation.

Her father had made it clear from the get-go that she and both of her sisters were off-limits to every man in the club. Even men who were friends of the club. No one was to do so much as toss a wink or a potentially flirtatious comment their way. And for as much as she tried to tell her father that he was being ridiculous, that she was a grown woman who could and would make her own decisions, he never budged. After all, Tig had never been known for being a man to compromise.

So it was bad enough that she was sneaking behind her father’s back with someone in the club. What made it even worse was the fact that it was the one person in the MC that he couldn’t stand. She didn’t even remember how her and Kozik fell into the situation that they were in. He was always friendly with her, but he was one of the most cautious around her because he knew that Tig wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in him if he so much as thought Kozik was hitting on his daughter. And yet, somehow that flipped completely around and the two of them were sneaking off whenever the situation allowed for it.

The last few months were playing at hyper-speed in her mind as she let herself breathe for a moment in the privacy of Gemma’s office. She was staring blankly down at the box that she had just brought in, too zoned out to notice the fact that Gemma had walked in behind her.

“Well, well, well,” Gemma chuckled as she walked up behind her, “What’d you get yourself into last night, T?”

Fear shot down her spine and she instantly let her hair go, “What?”

Gemma shook her head, “Too late to hide it now, sweetheart,” she brushed her hair out of the way to get a better look at her neck, “Since you’re busted, you gotta tell me,” she leaned back against the desk, “Who done it, Tawnie?”

She rolled her eyes, “You cannot tell my dad.”

Gemma chuckled, “What Tig doesn’t know won’t hurt him. So,” she nudged Tawnie’s shoulder, “spill the beans, sweetheart.”

Kozik was about to walk in to ask Gemma about something when he heard the two of them talking. He stopped himself, lurking right outside the door. He was curious to see how the conversation was going to go—he wanted to know if Tawnie would actually confide in someone about the two of them. He’d been good, he hadn’t told a single soul about the two of them being together. It was too small of a town and word traveled way too fast. His days were numbered as it was and he didn’t want to shorten his lifespan any more than necessary by having Tig find out that he was hooking up with his daughter.

Tawnie sighed, running her hands down her face, “Kozik.”

Gemma’s eyes went wide, “Honey, why do you want him to get the shit kicked out of him?”

She laughed, “I don’t! I don’t. Please, please don’t tell my dad.”

“I won’t,” Gemma shook her head slightly, “How’d that happen, anyway?”

She shrugged, feeling the heat rise slightly in her cheeks, “I don’t really know. It all sorta just…fell together.”

“How long?”

She paused, not wanting to admit how long they’d been hiding it, “Couple months.”

“A couple months?” Gemma chuckled and shook her head, “You’ve been sneaking around for a couple months and the man still can’t leave a proper hickey?”

She laughed, giving her a playful shove, “Gemma!”

“What? I’m just saying,” she glanced at her neck, “I could leave a better one than that. And your father would be much less pissed off about it.”

“You gonna give him a how-to manual, Gemma?”

She shook her head, “That’s something he’s gotta learn on his own, sweetheart.”

She laughed, “Is that something you’d like updates on?”

Gemma smiled as she fixed Tawnie’s hair, covering back up the marks on her neck, “You won’t need to tell me—I’ll see it for myself.”

There were a few beats of silence before she spoke up again, “Thank you for, y’know, not ratting me out to my dad.”

She smiled, “The girls gotta stick together.”

Taking that as her cue to leave, Tawnie made her way towards the office door. Kozik heard the sound of her footsteps and tried to back off enough so that it wouldn’t seem obvious that he was waiting right outside the door for her. Despite the distance, though, his face gave him away. She could tell from his expression that he was trying to cover for himself, which meant that he had most definitely heard her conversation with Gemma. She felt a little bad, but she also wanted to see what he was going to say.

“Oh, hey,” she smiled, tilting her head slightly, “You good?”

He nodded, “Yea, I’m…I’m good. Is, uh, is Gemma in there?”

So he was going to play it off for the time being. Two could play at that game. She nodded, “Yea, just got in.”

“Alright, cool. Thanks. I’ll see you later?”

She nodded, “Yea of course. You gonna be around tonight for the party?”

“Are you?”

She smiled, “I think so.”

A smirk passed over his face for a moment, “Then I think so too.”

The day went by quickly. She kept herself busy with random things around the garage and the clubhouse. Normally she’d be getting her hands dirty working on whatever needed repairs, but if she couldn’t tie her hair back out of the way, she wasn’t even going to bother. It would’ve been more trouble than it was worth.

She was helping bring in a few cases of beer as people started showing up for the party. It was dark out by that point, music and loud conversations already starting to flow out through the walls of the clubhouse. She smiled and shook her head to herself as she bumped the door open with her hip.

“T,” Jax appeared on the other side of the bar from her and gave his most charming smile, “grab me a beer, please?”

She rolled her eyes but did as he asked. She popped the top off of it before handing it to him, “I’m not a bartender, Teller.”

“If you’re on that side of the bar, you’re a bartender. Those are the rules.”

She laughed and shook her head before grabbing a beer for herself, “Guess you can carry your own shit in next time.”

Making her way back to the side of the bar that wouldn’t land her with more responsibilities, she looked around the clubhouse. Everyone was hanging out having a good time. A few of the guys were playing pool, and some of them already had women draped over their laps. She chuckled as she sat herself down on a stool at the bar. Pressing the beer bottle to her lips, she silently looked for Kozik in the midst of the chaos.

They locked eyes from across the room. He was sitting on the sofa, one of the women from Cara Cara tucked underneath his arm. She almost felt herself getting jealous, but when he smiled at her all of those feelings faded away. They both knew that the price of keeping their relationship a secret was having to allow a certain amount of flirtation from the people around them. He never got too close with any of the women who hung around the clubhouse, but he couldn’t be too cold and dismissive without at least one of the guys giving him shit about it.

Tawnie refused to break eye contact as she took a long drink from her beer bottle. She could see it in his eyes that even though the party had barely started, he already wanted to leave with her. She would’ve been up for that, too, if he asked. But she knew that he wouldn’t. She contented herself with keeping an eye on everyone around her.

Tig walked up, throwing a loving arm around his daughter’s shoulders, “How you doin’, doll?”

She chuckled and leaned against him for a moment, giving him a side-hug, “I’m good, Dad. Enjoying the party?”

“Always,” he laughed, “But are you?”

She chuckled, nodding, “You know me—I’m more than happy to just sit back and watch everyone else get into trouble.”

“Good way to stay out of it.”

“Exactly,” she gave him a playful nudge, “Go keep the boys in line, alright?”

He smiled, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head, “Love you, T.”

“Love you too,” she laughed as he took off into the fray of things.

Once the party had really gotten underway, Kozik made his way over to her. It felt safer to be closer when there was so much else going on around them—they weren’t on anyone’s radar. He leaned in close so that only she could hear him. At first it was just jokes, off-hand comments about what was going on around them. She’d laugh and shake her head, and Kozik could swear that he’d never heard a better sound.

“Think we could sneak out for a bit?” he asked.

She looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Oh?”

He nodded, “Yea,” he pushed her hair back behind her shoulder, “because apparently I have some work to make up for.”

Heat rushed to her face and she wanted to hide behind her hands. Even though she knew that he had heard the conversation with Gemma, talking about it was an entirely different thing. She looked up at him, a nervous smile on her face.

“I didn’t say—”

“Don’t even,” he laughed and shook his head.

She laughed as well, knowing that there was no trying to soften the blow to his ego. He seemed to be handling it just fine, though. They both looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them before sneaking back towards the dorms.

Once they were in the hall, out of the main cluster of the clubhouse, Kozik instantly had his hands all over her. He walked up behind her, sliding his hands up her sides beneath her top. Without thinking about it, she melted back into him, reaching back with one hand to trail her fingers down the side of his face. His fingers gripped onto her side as he kissed along her shoulder. He spun her around so that her chest was pressed against his, pushing her back against the wall.

He crashed his lips into hers as he pinned her to the wall. She gripped the edges of his kutte and attempted to pull him as close as she possibly could. They knew it was reckless to not even bother waiting to get to his dorm, but she wasn’t in the mood to be telling him to stop. Any and all responsible thoughts left her brain the second he bit down on her bottom lip.

He pulled his lips off of hers, trailing them down along her jaw and peppering her with kisses all along the way. She couldn’t help but to smile as he placed a kiss on her neck, “Gonna give it another shot?”

His laughter vibrated against her skin, “I feel like I have to. Can’t let Gemma disrespect me like that.”

She laughed and was about to make a smart remark when she felt his teeth against the sensitive skin of her neck. Her fingers wound their way into his hair, eyes fluttering shut as his hand slipped up the front of her shirt as he continued to suck a dark mark into the side of her throat. His name was about to fall from her lips in a quiet moan when their moment was interrupted.

“What the fuck is this?” Tig snapped, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

Kozik immediately backpedaled, nearly plastering himself against the opposite wall from Tig’s daughter. Tawnie’s face was flushed, hair and shirt a mess as she tried to look anywhere but into the eyes of her dad. She knew it was their own doing, but she still didn’t want to have to have this conversation with him.

“You’re a dead motherfucker,” within a split second Tig was charging at Kozik,

“Dad!” Tawnie jumped in, barely being able to wedge herself between the two men before serious damage was done, “Dad, stop!” she shoved him backwards with all the strength she could muster.

Tig’s chest was heaving as he looked down at his daughter, “What the fuck, T?”

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see,” she sounded much more confident than she really felt.

“This,” he pointed at Kozik, “is not a good choice, Tawnie.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!”

Kozik’s eyes were bouncing back and forth between the two Tragers. It wasn’t often that he saw Tawnie get heated and defensive about things. He’d certainly never pictured her speaking like that to her own father. He wanted to step in and say something but he had the feeling that that was only going to make it worse.

“And you,” Tig’s eyes bored into his, “what the fuck are you thinking?!”

It was hard to try and sound tough when Tawnie was the only thing standing between him and getting his ass beat. He still tried, though. He rested his hands protectively on her shoulders and looked directly into Tig’s eyes.

“I’m think that she’s right. That you don’t get to make that decision for us.”

“For us?” Tig stepped in closer, his blood boiling.

“I’m an adult, Dad,” Tawnie was shaking her head, “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you get to criticize who I’m seeing when you were about to bring some random woman back to your dorm,” she cocked one eyebrow.

That got Tig to recoil a bit. He hooked his thumbs onto his belt-loops, trying to figure out what he wanted his next move to be. After a few moments of incredibly tense silence, he looked back at his daughter, “We aren’t done talking about this.”

Before she could try to give any kind of sass in return, Tig turned around and headed back towards the main part of the clubhouse, the woman he was about to whisk away following suit. Tawnie let out a deep sigh of relief as she leaned back against Kozik, taking comfort in the feeling of his arms draped over her shoulders as he kissed the top of her forehead.

“Did you think you were gonna die?” she laughed.

He chuckled, loosely wrapping his arms around her neck as he pulled her back against him, “For a second, yea.”

“My last resort would’ve been telling him that Gemma told you to do it,” she tilted her head back so she could look up at him.

He smiled down at her, “I kinda wish that you did, just so we could see his reaction.”

“He still might’ve killed you.”

“Maybe,” he sighed as he rested his forehead lightly against the back of her head.

“Does this mean you’re going to bail on your redemption plans?”

He slid his hands down so that they were resting on her hips again. Without a word he turned her and began pushing her down the hall in the direction of his dorm. She laughed as she let herself be guided down the row of doors.

“I don’t give up that easy,” he laughed quietly as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

[vs-redemption]

This is the fourth piece out of seven written for the one year anniversary collaboration event for the @konoblog-simps discord. I encourage everyone to check out the masterlist for today's prompt and support the other creators. Some content might not be suitable for minors so please pay attention to the warnings.

Prompt: Song Piece (Tooru Oikawa x Reader)

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Song: Case Of The Ex - Mya I'm old, just like this song, so I apologize if you don't know it. I provided a link if you wanna check out the song/video.

It took a certain kind of person to date a guy like Tooru Oikawa. It wasn’t for the faint hearted for sure. First of all, you had to be fine with long absences since he traveled so much for work. If he wasn’t off competing against the best teams in the world, he was spending an absurd amount of time in training camps and practices. His career as a pro volleyball player alone would put strain on any relationship but the obstacles didn’t end there. Oikawa was more than just an incredible athlete. He was also known for being one of the most attractive male sports stars on the planet. He had a huge female fan base and had appeared on a disturbing number of magazine covers for his looks alone. Anyone who dated him would have to share his attention with every single other person who thought they might have a chance with the devilishly handsome man. It would take someone awfully secure in themselves to withstand pressure like that constantly looming over them.

“Hey cutie! Can I buy you a drink?”

The first time you met Oikawa was unfortunately during a bar crawl for a friend’s birthday. It wasn’t the type of thing you’d normally participate in, but you endured it this time because of the special occasion. You were already at your third stop of the night and ready to go home when a ridiculously tall, obnoxiously attractive man appeared next to you.

“I think you already did,” you tell him while holding up the glass in your hand. “Wasn’t it you and your buddies that bought a round for my friend’s birthday?”

“Yeah, but that was a while ago,” he tilts his head curiously at you. “Don’t you need another by now?”

“I’m pacing myself,” you tell him flatly. “Thank you though.”

“I’m Tooru Oikawa,” he smiles and spreads his arms, lifting his chin proudly and reminding you of a peacock showing off and you laugh.

“I know.”

As the night dragged on, you continued chatting with the famous volleyball player as your friends continued with their shenanigans. You could admit that conversation with Oikawa was easy, and he definitely made the night more interesting. He was cute and charming, not to mention rich and famous, but you knew you didn’t have the energy to get involved with someone like that in any capacity. You allowed yourself some light banter, figuring he could just move on to flirting with someone else once you parted ways.

“How about a date?” he asks you once your friend signals you that it was time to head to the next stop of the night.

“I don’t date pretty boys.” You reply apologetically, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“How about meeting for coffee as friends?” he quips without any hesitation.

“Are you serious?” You ask and he nods while pulling his phone out from his pocket. You shake your head, pushing his phone away with a mischievous smile on your face. “I’ll tell you the time and place,” you tell him. “If you actually show up, then I’ll give you my number.”

What you hadn’t known was that Tooru Oikawa was persistent when he knew what he wanted. Not only did he show up to the designated place on time, but he also kept the conversation light and friendly since you’d been adamant about it not being a date. As promised, you exchanged numbers and saw no reason to refuse when he asked to meet up again soon.

Oikawa wasted no time in integrating himself into your daily life. At first, having regular correspondence with him made it easy to forget his celebrity status. He never acted like the hot playboy he was made out to be in the media. He never seemed too proud to send you goofy selfies of himself, or tell you about something embarrassing that had happened to him in one of his practices. When he was too busy to meet you in person, he scheduled time to do video calls. It surprised you that he never seemed to lose interest. The way he took his time to let you really get to know him and build up a mutual trust made it difficult to say no the next time he asked you on an actual date.

“I know my volleyball is going to make things tough,” he’d admitted from the very start, and you respected that he could acknowledge that. The first step in overcoming the hurdle was admitting it existed in the first place. He was more than willing to talk and compromise as much as you needed though, continuing to make you feel better about entering into a relationship with him. After all, despite your efforts to remain rational, you’d ended up falling head over heels for the idiot.

Being with Oikawa was too good to be true. You’d known going into the relationship how busy he was, and although you were fine being on your own sometimes, he still made sure you never felt neglected. Hardly a day went by without at least a phone call since he claimed that going to bed without hearing your voice was impossible for him. He was so cheesy sometimes, but you appreciated his transparency. Even dealing with his popularity turned out to be less of a problem than you’d imagined. Seeing all the comments and likes on his posts never made you feel jealous. In fact, it made you happy to see your boyfriend getting the amount of love and attention you knew he deserved. He never made a big deal about it and did everything in his power to make sure you knew he only had eyes for you.

“Good night, my love!” He smiles and pulls your face into his hands, pressing a kiss to your mouth before yawning and snuggling into the blankets next to you.

“Night, pretty boy,” you reply with a teasing smile that makes him pout. “Stop,” you poke his cheek, “You know I love you.”

“Mm,” he hums happily. “Love you too.”

Sometimes it still blew your mind knowing Tooru Oikawa was your boyfriend, but as you curled up next to him and slowly drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t imagine anyone else making you feel as happy or as loved as he could.

“Do you understand what time it is?” The sound of Oikawa’s voice pulled you back from the depths of sleep and you blink your eyes tiredly, the numbers on your alarm clock coming into focus and revealing that it was still the middle of the night. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He was clearly on the phone with someone, and before you could roll over and ask him if everything was okay, you hear him whisper the caller’s name. Your heart immediately drops to your stomach, knowing right away who he was talking to. When you’d finally decided to give your heart to Oikawa, you’d thought you’d taken everything into account. His career. His fame. His fans. For some reason it had never occurred to you to worry about his exes.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” You could tell Oikawa felt awkward by the tone of his voice. “Do you really think I’m the right person to talk to though? We’re not together anymore.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm yourself. He’d never given you a reason not to trust him before, and it wasn’t his fault if his ex was calling him in the middle of the night. Oikawa had told you about them before though, and you couldn’t help the memories that sprung up from those conversations. You knew how much they’d meant to him, and how they’d hurt him when they left, giving him an ultimatum between their relationship and his volleyball career. It had made you mad to hear about that. Loving Oikawa meant accepting all of him, including his love for volleyball, and you could never imagine asking him to give it up for you. Still, if even a hint of his feelings for his ex still existed inside him, who knew what talking to them again might mean for you.

“I can’t do this right now,” Oikawa’s tone was getting impatient. “I don’t know. Maybe. Fine. Goodnight.” You hear him set his phone back on the nightstand and let out a sigh. After a moment, he lays back down and tries to get comfortable.

“Tooru?” you whisper.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you listen for any hints of guilt or panic in his voice. “Did you hear all that?”

“Kind of,” you weren’t going to lie.

“I shouldn’t have even answered,” he admits softly while snaking an arm around your waist. “It’s just been so long and I was surprised.”

“Is everything all right?” you ask.

“I guess so,” his words come out muffled against your back. “Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” You wanted to ask him if you had anything to worry about, and if he planned on getting in touch with them again. You had so many questions that you knew were rooted in insecurity, so you held back from asking so as not to insult the trust you’d built up over your time together. You’d handled every other obstacle in your relationship so far, so hopefully this one wouldn’t cause too much disruption either. At the end of the day, it was up to Oikawa to choose who he wanted by his side. And until he gave you a reason to believe otherwise, you decided to just be thankful that, for the moment, that person seemed to be you.

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Wildfire

Chapter 3: Oath-Breaker

Sorry for taking so much longer than I thought I would! But I hope it was worth the wait! Please let me know what you think- your comments are seriously what keeps me going. love you all sm ❤︎

word count: 4108

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

It was fresh, and completely unmistakable. Within the past few hours, Lorcan Salvaterre had passed by Mistward, heading for the sea.

Rowan immediately swooped low, following the scent to where it meandered over the forest floor, his heart pounding in his chest. The trail skirted around the edge of Mistward’s perimeter, following a path that was just out of their sightline, but close enough that in the morning, the scouts would find it immediately.

It almost felt like a message.

Rowan shifted in mid-air, landing hard on his heels and already drawing the wind towards him from all directions, searching for anything, any whisper of a dark form, flitting between the oaks, quick as a shadow –

But there was nothing. Only the memory.

Rowan began to run, following the trail westward. Even though Lorcan had passed through these trees barely a few hours ago, the wind couldn’t sense him. He was already gone, miles and miles ahead. Out of the reach of Rowan’s wind.

As the trail solidified before him, Rowan’s stride lengthened, his footing becoming more sure with each step. And he longed to be able to shift again, to use the wind to propel him over the land.

He could fly so much faster than he could run, but then he risked losing the scent – a chance he could not take. So instead Rowan dug his feet into the earth, tearing through the forest mists. A predator on the hunt.

Only one thought in his head.

Why in rutting hell was Lorcan Salvaterre trying to get his attention?

···

Fenrys wasn’t there when she found out.

He was out on a run, hunting through the forests around Doranelle. Chasing down after whispers of the forest-spirits. He knew they were here: the elemental beings, as ancient as the very stones and mountains and valleys. Older than history – than time itself.

Fenrys would hear them in the night – sounds of crashing rock and tearing metal, the felling of trees when no wind blew. Still fighting their ancient wars, either uncaring or ignorant of the affairs of lesser beings. But Fenrys had never seen them, nor did he know of anyone who had.

Every now and again, he would glance a fairy or two. One of the Little Folk, going about their little-great-deeds. But it was never when he was looking for them.

It was something he and Connall used to do as young ones – charge through the forest, hunting for fairies. For the heroes of the tales their mother would tell them, over glasses of sweet fruit juice on lazy summer afternoons. Stories of battles and warriors and the hidden magic of the land. To this day, Fenrys didn’t know whether the stories were true, or if she had made them up herself.

He knew it was only purposeless distraction, and one that he would likely pay for when he returned. But he just had no idea how much.

So no, Fenrys wasn’t in the palace when Maeve found out.

But Connall was.

···

The trail was nearly a straight shot through the woods, barely deviating for trees and boulders. Lorcan was really hauling ass. And as he drew closer and closer to the coastline, and the little market town that was waiting for him there, Rowan felt his suspicions begin to grow.

It was nearing evening when Rowan finally began to hear little signs of approaching civilization – the neighing of horses, the soft thumps of an axe chopping wood. But the trail pushed on, breaching the edges of the trees, following over the cobbles through the market, out towards the end of the main street, until it came to a stop. Right at the end of the long wooden dock.

Rowan stood at the brink, right where the path met the sea. And he could feel fury coiling in his gut.

Lorcan had left. And Rowan thought he might be able to guess where his former commander was headed. But before he decided anything, before he made a plan, he needed to be absolutely sure.

Rowan turned on his heels, headed back into the village. His cloak was pulled high over his head, hiding much of his face. He let his body fall into a slump, hiding its powerful shape. Evening was coming on, and if he kept his movements sloppy and wide, he could be just another traveler, coming to wet his throat with watered-down ale.

Outside the pub, a young maid was lighting the lamps, her hair neat and apron clean. When she looked up at him, Rowan caught the glint of sharp eyes. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to go inside the tavern.

“Hello miss,” Rowan said, ever so slightly shifting his accent, letting the words fall from his mouth like marbles. “Might you be able to tell me where I could hire passage on a ship?”

Her face twisted shrewdly, and she gave him a quick once over as she straightened and said, “Depends on where you’re goin’. And how much coin you’ve got t’ spend.”

Rowan nodded, making sure to keep his clothes hidden with the cloak, knowing that an accidental glint of silver from one of his hidden blades might be enough for her to call for help from inside the tavern. And that last thing he wanted was trouble. “When was your last ship headed for Adarlan? And when will you be expecting the next one? It doesn’t have to be fast, or comfortable.”

Her expression tightened, but she answered reasonably enough. “We get a fair few ships headed to the western continent this time o’ year – the sheep’ve just been shorn and ships head that a-way bearing wool to trade for furs from the north, and steel from the south. I’m pretty sure we had a ship go through this morning.”

“And the next?” Rowan prompted, his expression schooled into neutrality.

“If you ask around the dockyards, I’m sure you might find another ship headin’ that way – once the tide comes in. And if not, then I’m sure there’ll be another come tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Rowan slipped the girl a coin. “By chance, you didn’t catch another traveler come through here today, heading the same direction – asking questions? Tall, dark hair, harsh look?”

The shrewd look fell into a scowl. “Maybe. Either way, my answer’ll cost more’n just a copper.”

Rowan slipped her another couple of coins, and she pocketed them. But her scowl didn’t soften.

“I might’ve seen your man. Came through around mid-morning, in a massive rush. Massive man, at that. Huge. Musta been six, nearly seven feet? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man that tall. And he nearly knocked me over coming in the pub to ask after passage to Rifthold. Kept his face covered though, so I couldn’t be sure.”

Rowan nodded again, but before the maid could turn to leave, he asked, “Oh – and do you happen to know a place where I could send a letter?”

“If you give it to me, I can get it to my mother and she’ll give it to the courier when he comes ‘round in the mornin’. You gonna come in for a pint?”

The maid held open the door, and Rowan followed her in, thinking it much easier to just go along with the girl, and far too wrapped up in his thoughts to come up with a polite refusal that wouldn’t leave her even more suspicious than she already was.

The tavern wasn’t bustling, but it was far from empty either. A few farmers sat at a table in the far corner, enjoying a few beers after a long day’s work, while a few younger boys, perhaps their sons, were laughing and joking across the room. There were a few other individuals – travelers like himself, or people who lived and worked in the village. But the majority of the bar was filled with sailors – teasing and joking and climbing all over each other, celebrating their last night on dry ground for many weeks to come.

Rowan headed for a quiet corner, flagging down the waitress and settling onto a creaky wooden bench. He ordered some bread and ale, which she had brought over in mere seconds, and he began to pick at it mindlessly.

There could be no doubt. Lorcan was heading for Adarlan, for Rifthold. For Aelin.

Maeve had sent him to go after Aelin. And she had ordered him to pass by Mistward, Mistward specifically, so that Rowan would be drawn into the conflict. Maybe they were planning on using him to get to Aelin, to follow him in order to find her.

The question was, why only Lorcan? Where were the twins? Gavriel? Vaughan? Would they follow Lorcan? Were they already headed for Adarlan?

Rationally, Rowan knew that Aelin was safe. That she was still somewhere in the middle of the ocean, on her way to Rifthold. But it took all of his self-control to keep himself from shifting right there, in the middle of this tavern filled with mortals, and fly out into the ocean skies to find her.

What really worried him was the idea that he would get there too late. That even if he got on a ship right at that moment, he would get to Rifthold after she had already been found, taken, overwhelmed. The idea that there were already forces there, waiting to seize her.

And no matter what, Lorcan would arrive in Rifthold hours or days before Rowan would be able to, and well before Aelin could read any letter he sent. Not that he even knew where he could send a letter. All he knew was that she used to own a hidden apartment in the slums, and that for the past six months, she had lived in a stone tower in the castle.

It seemed unlikely that she would return to either. Both were compromised, the castle being an obviously insane choice. Unless of course she had something hidden up her sleeve that she had kept from Rowan. Which felt distinctly possible. And Arobynn had to know about the apartment. She had nowhere safe to go, and Rowan had nowhere safe he could send a warning.

So the only way he would be able to tell her about Lorcan would be to go there himself. To break his oath.

Rowan knew that he could, and without much difficulty at that. But it still felt wrong – a violation of trust. If he left Wendlyn without being told to by Aelin, he would be going against her wishes. He would be taking advantage, both of the flexibility of their bond and of her trust in him.

And it definitely didn’t make things any easier that he so desperately wanted to leave in the first place. It felt like he was exploiting the opportunity to be close to her again, no matter how rationally necessary it might be. And there was a chance that she might not forgive him for it.

But no matter how much that might sting, he couldn’t live through following her requests to the letter, and Aelin dying because of it.

So, Lorcan was headed for Rifthold. And soon, Rowan would be heading there as well.

Rowan tore into the bread, newly reinvigorated. He didn’t see any reason to return to Mistward, there wasn’t anything there worth sacrificing another day for. But he did feel bad about leaving without any notice. Deserting Emrys and Malakai, and…Luca.

So as he ate, Rowan dug out a piece of paper from his pack and began to write.

Emrys,

I’m sorry. Something came up. Tell Luca to remember to practice swings off his left side just as much as his right, I don’t care if they hurt more.

When I see her, I’ll tell her you say hello.

Then he folded up the paper and sealed it, leaving it unmarked. Hopefully, even if someone – such as that suspicious maid – opened the letter to see what it said, what he wrote would be meaningless.

He spent the rest of the evening listening to the sailors’ conversation, until he heard mention of a crew headed for Rifthold. The barmaid hadn’t lied – it was a ship bearing crates of wool heading to Adarlan to trade for steel. This was their last night ashore, and they were setting sail sometime in the early morning, just before the tide shifted.

So Rowan waited a few minutes more, then left the waitress his fee, gave the maid his letter, and walked out into the lamplit village, his jaw squared and his shoulders set. Determined.

···

Fenrys returned to broken furniture. Splintered wood and broken glass. Twisted metal and shattered stone. That was the first thing he noticed.

The second thing he noticed was the silence. It stretched its fingers through the walls and corridors and archways, until it brushed through to his skin. Until it was the only touch he could feel.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Where there should be sound.

The third thing he noticed was the bodies. Their touch was even colder than the quiet. There was no red, no black. None of the usual gory signs of death. Just nothing. An absence.

Fenrys worked his way through the wreckage, his hands empty of feeling, his heart a stone in his chest. His intestines resting somewhere near his toes.

Until he reached their rooms, and found Connall in a dark huddle across the sea of space, and he was still breathing and it felt like Fenrys could breathe again too, but then Connall spoke and sound returned to the world, “Why did he leave? Why did he leave us?” and his voice was so full of fear that Fenrys felt tears sprout from his eyes like wings.

“Who?” Fenrys asked. “Who, Con? What happened?”

But then the palace stones began to thunder, and the questions that had seemed so important only a moment ago fell from his mind on a scattered breeze.

···

Rowan flitted into a dark alleyway around the back of the tavern, and once he was sure there was no one there to see, he shifted into his hawk and flew out over the small village.

From his eavesdropping earlier, he had learned that the ship headed for Rifthold was an old galleon vessel near the edge of the docks, bearing white and yellow flags. It had a large enough cargo bay that hopefully Rowan would be able to find a place to stow away, but wasn’t so large that the journey would take even longer than it should. Which was already far, far too long for his liking.

Rowan circled high above the ship a few times, making sure that he appeared as nothing more than just another sea bird, hunting for its dinner. Although most of the crew, including the captain and first mate, appeared to be drinking away their pay on the floor of the tavern in the village, the ship wasn’t completely empty.

His winds told him that at least three men were asleep below decks, their rumbling snores echoing through the wooden beams. But a few lamps still shone, and with their light Rowan could see a few flickering shadows just beneath the upper deck that made him think not all of the sailors were yet asleep.

So Rowan would have to be extremely careful in making his approach.

He waited for long minutes for those lights to vanish, and shadows to disappear. And the second they did Rowan was sailing down among the rigging, twisting and turning around the sails and masts until he could be absolutely sure that there weren’t any watchful eyes to mark his presence.

Then Rowan was swooping down into the maze of rooms below decks, making sure to avoid the various sleeping quarters, kitchens, and officers’ cabins. Heading towards the hold at the very bottom of the ship in as straight of a path as he could.

Rowan found a dark corner behind a case of flour and barrel of barley, and then shifted back into his Fae form. Once they passed the halfway mark between Adarlan and Wendlyn, magic would stop working, and he wouldn’t be able to move between forms. He had to find a place he could hide in during the day that was large enough for his Fae body. A task far easier said than done.

A ship like this had a crew in the dozens, and quarters were cramped all to hell. Every piece of available space was used, from every corner to closet and even the toilets. Only the captain would have room to stretch his legs, and even then, it was barely by a few feet. Nothing like the space he would need in order to not attract attention.

Rowan looked over the hold once again, scanning for anything that could possibly be large enough. Then he nearly huffed a laugh when he realized exactly what he needed to do.

···

When morning came, Rowan was crammed into a wooden case lined with wool. The back panel carefully pried out and its nails removed, but then leaned carefully back into place to allow him a quick exit. And the majority of the wool was now taking a trip down the coastline.

He had spent an hour or so that night carefully removing armfuls of the fiber and tossing it overboard, using his wind to propel it from the shipyard and out to sea, leaving only just enough room for himself. It was crammed, scratchy, uncomfortable, and smelled like sheep dung, but it would do.

Now, as the ship slowly meandered its way through the reef and out into open ocean, with the occasional shouts and curses of the sailors toiling above, Rowan had nothing to do but think.

For the next month.

It might just be the longest month of his life. At least he couldn’t complain about not having enough time to plan.

Aelin certainly would have a strategy, and by the time he reached her, she would have been working away at it for nearly two weeks. And while he could only guess at her aims, he knew that when he reached her, he would do whatever he could to help her reach those goals.

The question was, should he reach her at all?

Rowan knew he needed to warn her about Lorcan, but once he was actually in Rifthold, that could be done in many ways – not just by contacting her in person. And deep in his bones, Rowan knew that Lorcan had dragged him here on purpose. That the male had wanted him to follow, to pursue. There were faster ways to travel from Doranelle to the sea than to go by Mistward.

So wouldn’t it be playing right into Lorcan’s hands to join up with Aelin? Giving him exactly what he wanted?

Lorcan wasn’t familiar enough with Aelin’s scent, nor with the city of Rifthold, to track her down by himself. He would be digging in the dark – except for the trail that Rowan would give him, as easily as handing over their lives like so much coin.

Perhaps Rowan could go to Rifthold, warn Aelin anonymously, and track down Lorcan by himself. And the faster he rid himself of his former commander, the sooner Rowan would be able to reunite with his Queen.

The pain of that future made him physically flinch.

And it wasn’t only the idea of being in the same city, or even just on the same continent, as Aelin and not being beside her. It was the thought of Lorcan, Lorcan, his commander of nearly three centuries, someone he had almost once thought of as a brother, or even a friend, Lorcan, as someone he needed to dispose of.

Someone who was his enemy.

It was a heavy, uncomfortable weight. It felt strange, and wrong, to have someone he had so trusted become such a dangerous enemy. No matter how necessary he knew it might be, Rowan couldn’t really think of killing him.

It would be like destroying a part of himself, an old part, but a necessary one.

Without Lorcan, he wouldn’t have become the person he was today, wouldn’t know the things he knew, or understand what he now did. About war and sacrifice and leadership and teaching.

Lorcan had been a pillar in his life when he needed one. And while Rowan hadn’t loved him, he had respected him.

And now they were enemies.

Rowan scowled, the crate somehow becoming even more uncomfortable.

What he did know was how Lorcan worked, how he operated. If Rowan did decided to reunite with Aelin, then he would have to keep his distance. Because Lorcan was expert at finding pressure points, and using them to his advantage.

Lorcan already knew that Aelin had turned Rowan away from Maeve, knew that Rowan had chosen her over his oath, over his life.

Idiot. He was such an idiot when it came to her.

If Lorcan found out that there was anything more, that there were other, deeper feelings –

No, Rowan could keep his distance. He could keep those thoughts under control because he had to. Not only because they did no good, but because they might get Aelin killed. Or worse, captured and taken back to Maeve.

But Rowan knew that he wouldn’t be able to deal with Lorcan without her – that he wouldn’t be able to return to Rifthold without reuniting with her. No matter how much easier it might be to keep her safe if he stayed away.

The only thing that was keeping him sane was the thought that at the end of this journey through hell, stuffed in this tiny rutting box that smelled like dung, unable to lay down properly for weeks, was an image of Aelin’s face. Even if she wasn’t happy to see him, even if she didn’t forgive him breaking his oath.

For the first time in weeks, he was heading towards her, instead of away.

So Rowan curled up and turned on his side, and tried to get some sleep, as the shouts of the sailors above him faded into the rising dawn.

···

Across Wendlyn, Emrys was stirring a large pot of rabbit stew, listening to the potatoes crackling as they fried on the stove. It was a lot of work, feeding this many people each and every day. But Emrys loved it, caring for this large family of his. Making sure they were all fed. Taking in strays.

Aelin Galathynius had been such a stray, and he couldn’t say that he didn’t miss her. But he knew that she was where she was meant to be, doing what she was meant to do. No matter what that prince said, or how much he tried to hide, Emrys knew that Aelin had survived her encounter with Maeve, that they both had escaped. Together. And now she’d moved on to other – perhaps even greater – foes.

Even when she was all the way across the ocean Emrys was worried about her.

The old male just sighed, then shuffled over to the counter to begin chopping scallions to add to the stew.

But before he could start, he was interrupted by the afternoon courier, bearing a letter for him – of all people.

Emrys wiped his hands off on his apron, and took the letter from the boy’s fingers. It was unmarked, but the paper was old and worn. As if it had lived in someone’s saddlebags for some time.

Emrys ripped it open, then read through it. Unable to keep a smile off his face.

That scoundrel.

He began to untie his apron, then headed out of the kitchen to go find Luca. Emrys couldn’t really find it in himself to be disappointed in the prince, even if he had abandoned them. Had left Luca with his grief and his guilt.

The boy had finally told him and Malakai about what had happened, and they had talked and cried together into the wee hours of the morning. Even so, Emrys had really hoped that Rowan might be there to help Luca through that grief. He knew that Luca had too.

But it was not to be. Perhaps they might see each other again, in years to come. Perhaps Rowan might even be their king one day.

Emrys almost wanted to laugh. He could already see the scowl that would twist Malakai’s face when he told him the news. Rowan, gone off to chase the future. Leaving them to tend to this little piece of the present.

When Emrys told Luca what was in the letter, the boy smiled too.

···

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[bestworstcase]

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 9-10

it’s been a hot minute! previous installments here, in case you’d like to refresh your memory first.

- this chapter opens with rapunzel observing that cassandra is angry and concluding, correctly, that it’s because rapunzel followed her. i think this is a very interesting choice for howland to make. tts rapunzel is not like this. she often, particularly in s1, fails to notice when cass is frustrated with her and is startled when that frustration erupts into anger after repeated pushing. she is also generally quite bad at linking cause and effect together like this; she might recognize that cass is angry, but miss why. she stomps all over cassandra’s boundaries in large part because she doesn’t know any better. she can’t see how her behavior is hurting cass. but lagoon rapunzel does know better. she’s far more emotionally intuitive, and she can see right away that sticking her nose into cassandra’s business upsets cass, yet she will continue to do it. part of me wonders if this change is to facilitate the character growth lagoon rapunzel gets (which tts rapunzel does not)? it’s much easier, after all, to fix poor behavior if you’re able to see how it’s hurting people you care about.

- rapunzel here also observes that cassandra’s “eyes were wide and vulnerable,” indicating how afraid cass was of the water situation. cass denies that she was afraid when rapunzel asks her. this has a lot of similarities to how cass acts in fanon, cassunzel fanon in particular—outright denying her feelings, even when rapunzel accurately identifies them. and i know i’m beating a dead horse here, but tts cass is not like this. tts cass readily expresses her feelings to rapunzel—except when she thinks rapunzel isn’t willing to listen to her. in COTB, her reticence with rapunzel comes on the heels of rapunzel doing something cassandra pleaded with her not to do. in RATGT, rapunzel outright tells her to ‘be okay with’ the way rapunzel treats her, and in RDO cass bottles up her feelings and refuses to talk until rapunzel forces her to. actively hiding her feelings is a behavior she develops after becoming friends with rapunzel, because rapunzel continually dismisses or ignores her feelings. this is probably not the last time i am going to harp on this over the course of this little reread. it’s a huge pet peeve of mine.

- re: romance novel: “I hadn’t seen Eugene since the night before. After Cassandra left my room, I sent Pascal to follow her. I instructed him to come get me if she went anywhere.” ksdkjf

- cassandra, of course, wants the lagoon to be their—or rather, ideally, her—little secret, because she’s decided this is the thing that will prove she’s ready for the guard. her approach to getting rapunzel on board with this secret-keeping is to imply that frederic and arianna might compromise corona’s national security if they are informed. i think this is very funny.

- (again, contrast this to what happens in tts: when cass begs rapunzel to keep their midnight excursion a secret, she explains her reasoning in detail, because tts cass knows how to communicate like an adult.)

- “It’s so…blue” jksdfl cass has a way with words huh

- i do not think ms howland knows what a lagoon is, because what she is describing is absolutely not a lagoon. it appears to be a cenote. i suppose ‘rapunzel and the lost cenote’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, though, does it?

- cassandra reveals that she doesn’t know how to swim. i will get into this in a moment.

- corona has 315 miles of coastline, according to ms. howland. for purposes of comparison, rhode island has around 380 miles of coastline. now! in addition to those three hundred odd miles of coastline, corona has 212 lakes, 121 ponds, 67 rivers, of which 17 are significant in size and let out into the sea. with some cursory research i haven’t been able to get a precise count of the number of freshwater bodies of water there are in rhode island, but wikipedia tells me that about 90% of the inland freshwater in the state is contained in 237 lakes and ponds, which is a bit less than corona’s 333 total lakes and ponds, so… assuming the other 10% of rhode island’s inland freshwater is contained in a few dozen smaller lakes and ponds, those numbers are quite close as well. and according to wikipedia, rhode island has 59 rivers, of which 17 are ‘considered major rivers either geographically or historically.’ 

there is not really a point to this digression except that i think it is interesting. rhode island is 1,214 square miles in size and based on the general closeness of these numbers i have decided to tentatively conclude that corona is meant to be roughly similar in size. let’s call it a nice even 1,250 square miles for the sake of ease and to account for the greater number of lakes and ponds. 

this is quite a bit larger than the kingdom appears to be in tts—unless the kingdom is very lopsided and island city is situated within a couple dozen miles of the nearest border—but it’s also quite small for a country. (europe has a few very small microstates and city-states, but excluding those, the smallest country in europe is almost twice the size of rhode island). 

for my own writing, i decided that corona was quite a bit larger than this—bitter snow corona is in the neighborhood of 13,125 square miles, of which about ⅓ was formerly saporia and another ¼ is the disputed territory/province of malinar, meaning saporia is/was about 4,375 square miles, malinar is about 3,288 square miles, and pre-conquest corona would have been about 5,462 square miles—but, if you’re writing fanfiction and looking for an approximate ‘canon’ size for corona, 1,250 sq miles is not a bad guess. just remember that that big old wall rapunzel’s so eager to get to the other side of has to be within about twenty miles of the island capital in order for horses to be able to comfortably get there and back in less than a day! so either the island has to be very near the nearest border, or the wall isn’t actually corona’s border but rather a defensive wall around the capital or something like that. 

- now back to cassandra, and the matter of her inability to swim. i think, given that they live on an island and the generally high standards to which he holds his daughter, it beggars belief a little that the captain did not force the issue of her learning how. it’s a safety matter. if you live near water you need to be able to swim.  but, fine, she has a phobia, whatever. it’s for the romance novel™

- but i hate this. i hate it. ms. howland expects me to believe that:

1 - cassandra hasn’t been in swimming lessons since she could walk

2 - cassandra’s phobia was so severe that the captain never forced the issue of her learning to swim, while living on an island

3 - rapunzel magically knows how to swim, because the three or four minutes she spent almost drowning in a slowly flooding cave and then being spat out into a river and dragged to the bank by eugene was sufficient for her to become a great swimmer.

4 - all it takes for cassandra to overcome her debilitating phobia of water is for rapunzel to spend maybe ten or fifteen minutes gently coaxing her into the water and teaching her how to tread water

5 - swimming in the lagoon with rapunzel then becomes one of cassandra’s most treasured pastimes, and

6 - merely a few months after this, cassandra is a strong enough swimmer to (in fitzherbert pi) DIVE INTO THE FUCKING OCEAN FULLY DRESSED WITH HER BOOTS ON in order to rescue shorty before he drowns.

and NO!!!!!! NO! THAT’S NOT HOW SWIMMING WORKS THAT’S NOT HOW ANYTHING WORKS!!

now i get it. i get it. this is a romance novel and the symbolism of rapunzel liberating cassandra from her fears and teaching her a valuable new skill that they bond over and becomes their shared special secret thing to do together is obviously powerful and a staple trope for the genre. but it makes so little sense for this to be a skill that rapunzel has but cassandra does not. it feels almost infantalizing of cassandra and aggrandizing of rapunzel. like… rapunzel is an exceptionally competent young woman, yes. but no she can’t fucking swim you can’t learn to swim from that one time you almost drowned in a FUCKING cave. fuck!

- i’m still on the first page of chapter 10 and i am steamed.

- “It’s amazing how fast you can pick something up when your life depends on it.” FUCK you, ms. howland. you don’t learn how to turn sommersalts or swim laps by almost drowning. at most you might teach yourself how to doggy paddle.

- this scene would have worked just as goddamn well on the romance novel front if cass were the one who knew how to swim and rapunzel desperately wanted to learn and made big sad puppy eyes until cass caved and agreed to teach her. like! ffs you could even squeeze in the phobia stuff - rapunzel freaks out when she gets to a certain depth because it throws her back to being in that cave and cass, who has plenty of experience dealing with her own panic attacks, is able to gently calm her down.

- but that would require ms. howland to allow rapunzel to be bad at something. grumble.

- i don’t think rapunzel is qualified to give cass exposure therapy.

- this is nitpicky but i’m annoyed. this is not how you clean plate armor. “First you hang your suit of armor up to make sure every piece is properly aligned and that there’s no rust” WHAT? it’s not… like, it’s not like a onesie. plate armor is a bunch of individual components tied or buckled to an arming doublet or, in some cases, to other pieces of plate. you can’t ‘hang up’ a suit of plate armor the way you’d hang up, like, a jacket. you can put the pieces together on an arming doublet that you’ve hung up on a dummy, but… why would you do that in order to clean it.

“Then you attach the foot coverings” gjksdfjk just… the mental image of cassandra painstakingly putting a suit of armor together on a fucking mannequin and buckling the sabatons to the greaves or what the fuck ever she means by this and trying to clean the set that way is destroying me

“Then you need to polish the chest plate, with a soft cloth, work in circles, going outward” okay yes but you’d do the cuirrass separate from the rest of the set and you’d do the inside too and cass ought to know the proper name for all of these pieces please it’s not hard

“The arms can be tricky because the joints” WHAT. for arms you’ve got, like, a pauldron (or spaulder and rondel), rerebrace, couter, vambrace, gauntlets. these are separate pieces. you clean them one at a time, inside and outside. does howland think you just… don’t need to clean the inside of a set of plate armor? does she think the inside isn’t just as if not more susceptible to rust as the outside? does… does she realize that you can take plate armor apart i am CONFOUNDED

WHAT is a “mouth cover” in this context. is she refering to a visor. hinged pieces like on an armet? does she mean a bevor? the bevor isn’t even part of the helmet aljksdflkjsfdj

cassandra refers to cuisses and greaves as “thigh plates” and “shin [plates]” respectively i’m die. she also completely skips the poleyns. i do not think this cass has ever cleaned a suit of plate armor in her entire life.

i am losing. my. mind.

- in the immediate aftermath of cass learning how to tread water i think rapunzel asks her more personal questions than she does in the entirety of tts itself. like, it’s almost jarring how much more interested both rapunzel and eugene are in cassandra as a person in this book than they seem to be in tts. compare this conversation to the way cass opens up to rapunzel in beginnings - here, it’s prompted by rapunzel asking questions, expressing interest in cassandra’s feelings and encouraging her by telling her she’s brave. in beginnings, rapunzel builds a pillow fort in cass’s room because she wants to force a bonding moment and cass, after initially trying to kick her out, relents and volunteers some personal information as a kind of apology for being hostile. the vibes are completely different, so different that it feels like i’m not even reading about the same characters.

- like can you imagine tts rapunzel saying something like “it’s your story, that makes it important” to cass? lmao

- cass reveals that she’s afraid of water because she got dragged out by the undertow at the beach when she was small, and her dad saved her and then got so mad at her that she remembers being as afraid of him as she was of the water. this is not unrealistic per se, but… if cassandra was as scared of her dad that day as she was of drowning, then… shouldn’t that have more of an impact on her relationship with him? like…he screams at her after she almost drowns and she walks away with this debilitating phobia of the water but zero lingering fear of him?

- this chapter has given me a headache

- re: romance novel: “Rapunzel gripped my hand. This time I didn’t flinch.” snrk. 

[marvelousmaize]

stay safe for me

Note: for @weakforjaskier, one of the dearest people to me in this fandom, who requested that a worried Geralt take care of a sick or injured (i went with injured) Jaskier, and Jaskier is adorably confused about why the Witcher is so worried. A confession of feelings (and softness!) ensue. It’s all very sweet and fluffy with a dash of idiots in love. 

Melina, i hope you enjoy, and that this fic brings you as much happiness as seeing you on my dash brings me, my dear :) 

 It happens before Geralt can stop it. 

He and Jaskier are on the road, as they usually are, not a quarter of a day’s walk from the nearest Temerian village. Jaskier is strumming his lute, idly composing a song, and Geralt is walking just a few paces behind the bard, hand wrapped around Roach’s reigns, when they’re accosted by a group of bandits.

This isn’t an uncommon occurrence. But usually the bandits take one look at Geralt’s two swords and his golden eyes and his medallion, realize who they’re up against, and promptly take their leave. 

Evidently not these bandits. 

They’re in larger numbers, for one - Geralt counts ten - and seem quite determined to snatch up all their coin, which is a problem. It makes them foolhardy and reckless, and Geralt has to balance fending them off with keeping Roach and Jaskier safe. He sends the mare running ahead - he’s got every confidence he’ll find her again - but Jaskier, the idiot, stubbornly stays put, refusing to leave Geralt’s side. 

Geralt incapacitates seven of the bandits with relative ease. All non-fatal injuries (he still won’t kill humans if he can help it) and he’s nearly finished with the eighth when - 

“Geralt! Behind you!”

He’s been so caught up, the Witcher’s managed to miss one of the other two bandits ready to shove a sword straight through his lower back when Jaskier wedges himself between Geralt and the bandit, using the dagger he keeps at his hip to slice at the bandit’s shoulder.

But the bandit’s sword still manages to run through Jaskier’s side.

The bard crumples, and Geralt is briefly seized with raw, icy horror, before his vision bleeds red and white hot fury surges through him. He kills the remaining bandits without another thought, and takes special pleasure in ending the life of the one who dared injure Jaskier. 

Sheathing his steel sword, Geralt goes to the bard right away, kneeling beside him. “Jaskier,” he murmurs. 

Jaskier looks up. He’s pale, and obviously in pain, but he’s responsive. The blade must not have passed through any vital organs. Thank fuck.

“Geralt -” Jaskier gasps out, but Geralt quiets him with a look.

“Not now,” the Witcher murmurs. “We need to stop the bleeding.” 

Geralt makes a makeshift tourniquet with some of the bands of cotton he keeps in his pack, securing them with a tight knot, before gingerly scooping up Jaskier. 

He finds Roach just like he knew he would only a few meters ahead, and hoists himself and Jaskier up, riding out to the closest village. 

The next few hours are a blur - Roach is fast, and Geralt is able to find an inn with relative ease - and are spent tending to Jaskier’s wound. Jaskier is as talkative as he always is, propped up on the bed, and chest bare save for the bandages around his waist. Color has returned to his cheeks, and Geralt can concede that the wound will heal nicely - perhaps won’t even scar. 

It’s finally then that he allows himself to fully cede to the anger that has been steadily bubbling up in his chest. Anger tinged with worry and guilt, because Jaskier might have died because of Geralt and Geralt - 

Geralt doesn’t quite know how to deal with that. 

“You cannot put yourself between me and a blade, Jaskier,” Geralt hisses. “Do you understand?”

“Like hell I can’t. Geralt, you would have died!”

“Then I die.”

“That’s an unacceptable outcome to me and you know that.”

Geralt fights the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Why do you insist on being so stubborn and reckless -”

“Me? Reckless?” Jaskier cuts in with a disbelieving scoff. “You’re one to talk, diving headfirst into every battle without a single regard for your life or your safety. Do you know what it’s like watching you hunt your monsters knowing you could die?” and Jaskier’s voice goes so quiet, almost choked off as he speaks. It sends a sharp spike of icy guilt straight into Geralt’s heart. Then the bard juts his chin out; his gaze is steady, and he looks utterly defiant, the imbecile. “If putting myself between you and harm’s way is what keeps you from dying, I will make that choice every single time.”

“You’re a fool,” Geralt spits out around a throat packed tightly with wool. In his mind’s eye, all he sees is Jaskier, felled by fang or claw or sword. Face as white as snow, blue eyes vacant, vermillion blood tainting his clothes, coming out of his mouth, on his fingers - 

“Better I than you,” Jaskier says, and Geralt blinks away the images of the bard dead, dead, dead because of him, because he was too late. The Witcher’s mouth curls into a snarl. 

“I won’t let you.”

“I’d like to see you try. Honestly Geralt, I must confess that you are being extremely confusing right now. If the outcome is me only slightly injured or you dead, I don’t understand why -”

“Because I won’t have your blood on my hands, Jaskier!”

And Geralt’s carefully constructed exterior of calmness and detachment dissolves with his outburst. Undone by this idiotic, heedless, brave, loyal, unflinching bard without a sense of self-preservation, who sees the Witcher - with all his enhanced strength and swords and potions and magic - and sees someone worth protecting. 

Geralt grits his teeth, pushing through Jaskier’s momentary speechlessness, trying to ignore the bard’s quickening heartbeat and his wide blue eyes. “You are - you are -” but the words are stuck in his wool-packed throat, trapped, heavy and thick, on his tongue. His fingers are carving deep moons in his palm, his mouth twisting - helpless and infuriated. 

And Jaskier - 

Jaskier might be a fool, but Jaskier is also intrinsically brilliant - an academic, a poet with a thirst for knowledge, who is eloquent and can use words like another might wield a weapon. Jaskier, who understands the nuances of emotion and can articulate them - and his eyes go even wider with realization. “Oh.” His expression softens all at once, and it soothes and inflames Geralt all at once. 

“Geralt,” he murmurs, and he smells like honey and spun sugar, like fondness and happiness. “Say it first and I promise I’ll say it back.” Geralt’s gaze snaps up. He meets eyes as blue as the ocean, open and steady and so, so earnest. It sends hope and sunlight curling at the base of his spine. “But you have to say it first, so that I might let myself believe it’s true.”

It’s an admission filled with so much yearning and heartache that Geralt can taste them. There’s a thing with wings in his chest and he thinks it’s his heart, ready to fly out of his throat and give itself to Jaskier and Geralt wants that - wants it more than anything - wants it enough to -

“I love you,” Geralt says. “I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt because of me.”

The smile on Jaskier’s face is blinding. “I love you too,” he says back. “And I won’t get hurt if you stop diving into things with a death wish.”

“Jaskier -”

“It’s a compromise, Witcher. You can compromise with me, can’t you? Please?”

And it is said so sweetly it pulls a grin out of Geralt that is equal-parts exasperated and fond - a mix of emotions he is no stranger to when it comes to Jaskier. “You’re impossible.”

“But you still love me,” Jaskier counters with a little quiet disbelief, but his smile is still so wide and his eyes glitter with mirth. “So just agree to this compromise Geralt, and come over here and kiss me already.”

Geralt chuckles, a low, rumbling thing that reverberates throughout his chest. “Well, when you put it that way,” he says wryly, and moves from the chair to sit himself on the bed. His huge, ungloved hand twines itself around the nape of Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier is watching him through hooded, hazy eyes, and Geralt picks up on the subtle quickening of the bard’s breath. “I agree, Jaskier.”

Jaskier licks his lips - an intoxicating movement Geralt traces with hungry eyes - and curls his fingers in locks of silver-white hair. “Oh good. Now -”

But Geralt doesn’t let him finish - though he strongly suspects he knows exactly what Jaskier is going to say - surging down instead and catching Jaskier’s lips into a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and promise. Jaskier lets out a delightful whimper - confirms Geralt’s suspicions when even as their lips interlock, he mumbles a “finally,” and smiles into the kiss - responding with unabashed enthusiasm. 

The spun sugar smell gets stronger, and it’s mixed with something else, something warm and spicy and utterly intoxicating.

(I love you too)

Geralt smiles and deepens the kiss. 

[chaseatinydream]

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes (ii) || p.sh (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x park seonghwa (ateez)

➳ word count: 2631

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff

➳ synopsis: by the intervention of fate (namely Choi San), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed. 

>>>

One dinner turns into two, two to three, and three to countless more. From both your shared interest in animals, your friendship blossoms, branching out into more and more areas as you spend more time together in each other’s company.

You learn that he likes cleaning and cooking, he watches ASMR to calm down. He’s an Aries and enjoys singing to himself when he thinks no one else is watching. He loves cats, but he’s afraid his father might not like them, so doesn’t bring them home.

He’s gentle and kind hearted. When he loves, he falls deeply. That’s how the death of his mother had destroyed him so utterly. He doesn’t really consider himself a bad boy, but he does admit that he’s been a bit of a rebel. The two of you laugh at it sometimes.

And with every new thing you learn about him, you feel yourself falling a little more.

San never comments about how much the two of you have started hanging out more, merely watches the two of you from a café at the opposite side of the road through the glass window with a content smile, face hidden by a nondescript black cap and newspaper. You laugh and nod your head at something Seonghwa says, the nerves once so apparent in your eyes when looking at his friends completely gone as Seonghwa sets down his cup, wiping the coffee foam from the corner of your mouth.

Your face flushes red in embarrassment and you bat Seonghwa’s hand away shyly, laughing at yourself. San folds up his newspaper, rising to his feet as he places a fifty dollar bill on the table. His work here is done.

“Sir, you haven’t ordered-” One of the waiters try to ask him, but he merely points at the money on the table and brushes past the man out of the shop without a second glance, standing in the street under the gloomy sky. His eyes linger on your smiling face for a moment, the silver cat charm bracelet around your wrist, remembering the days when he was the one who would wipe the cream from your cheek only to dab it on your nose instead, laughing as you attempted to catch him. You never quite managed it, but he stopped running for you.

But now, it’s different.

“She’ll be good for him.” San murmurs under his breath with a soft smile. The heavens open and rain falls to the ground, droplets turning the pavement dark grey with the tears of the sky. He watches as you and Seonghwa leap up in surprise upon feeling the first drops, Seonghwa taking you by the arm and pulling you under the cover of a shop’s tarp, the two of you laughing together uncontrollably as Seonghwa removes the leather jacket from his arms and setting it over your shoulders.

You pull it closer and smile adorably at Seonghwa as you accept the jacket, but then your eyes seem to catch a glimpse of him and you squint, trying to make out his features in the pouring rain.

San immediately hitches up the collar of his coat, stuffing his hands into his pockets as the bell on his bracelet jingles, as if calling out for its partner just a few feet away. He tells it to stay silent in his mind, pulling his coat closer around him as he turns away from you and walks down the street alone in the downpour.

Wetness slides down his cheeks, and his own tongue darts out to chase it. He frowns a little, shaking his head as he continues making his way.

“Rain tastes salty today.” He mutters to himself.

“I think I like Seonghwa.” You tell your best friend one day, sipping at a caramel macchiato at a cafe.

To your surprise, San doesn’t seem the least bit shocked, sucking on his straw noisily before giving you a huge, shit-eating grin. “So, details, details. I need all the juicy bits, you know.”

“Nuh uh.” You pout at him, your charm bracelet jingling at your wrist. Honestly, San’s skill set is so varied you’re not even surprised that he already knows that you like Seonghwa. You’ve often joked that San could either grow up to become a fashion mogul, a politician or even a hitman, but you know somewhere in you that it holds a shred of truth.

“He’s just… really sweet to me, you know?” You tell San, thinking about Seonghwa’s gentle smile and the way he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, the same way San used to do for you with his red coat. That’s how you had known Seonghwa really cared about you.

Your best friend nods, watching the way your eyes sparkle. “Go on.”

“And he really connects with me, cares about me. He even brought me to the vet he works at and he told me he’s going to start studying really hard so that he can be a vet in the future.” You spill everything, a warm smile on your face at the thought of him. “We’re going to study later over at my house, so do you want to come along with-”

Your voice suddenly trails off when you catch sight of the melancholy smile on San’s face. “Sanshine? Sanie? Are you alright?”

At your words, San snaps out of it immediately, shaking his head, a flawless smile erasing all trace of his previous dejection. But you know him better than that and catch his hand, your twin charm bracelets tinkling against each other as you looks at him pleadingly.

“San, what’s wrong?”

San pauses for a moment as his expression tries to ease back into a smile, but you can see his mask splintering under the weight of your gaze, cracked and uncomfortable. When he finally admits to you the truth in a small voice, your heart breaks.

“I don’t want you to date Seonghwa.”

“Then I won’t.” You promise San determinedly. Yes, you like Seonghwa, but San? The boy who has been at your side for so long, the one with a smile as bright as breaking dawn, the one that held you as your cried over your results and the one that puts that red coat around your shoulders? He’s your best friend. You can’t do without him.

But San shakes his head, gently pulling your fingers away from his wrist and setting your hand down on the cold tabletop.

“No. Don’t hold yourself back because of my own selfish wishes. It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” He tells you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. You stare at him for a long moment, and he simply ruffles your hair. “After all, that’s why I made you and Seonghwa meet in the first place.” His smile grows a little more genuine, he’s really happy. “I don’t regret it.”

You can’t help it anymore, throwing your arms around San in a tight hug as tears gather in your eyes. “I don’t love you any less, San. I really don’t. I promise you.”

San closes his eyes and rests his forehead against your shoulder. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling in his chest, the sensation of soaring and falling at the same time lingering in his body. But he forces the thickness in his throat aside, nodding.

“I know.”

You’re sitting on your bed as you flip through your notes for the fifth time the day, cheeks puffed out in frustration.

“Stupid algebra. Stupid calculus.” You huff under your breath and Seonghwa glances up at you from your desk with an amused smile.

“Having some trouble?” He asks, setting his biology textbook to the side and rising to his feet to come peer at the paper you’re attempting to do. His chin rests on your shoulder, like it always does, but ever since you’ve realised your feelings for Seonghwa, you’ve been increasingly jumpy around him.

And to your horror, your reflexes kick in and your elbow flies into his midriff, the school’s ‘bad boy’ choking in pain as he topples off your bed and onto the ground where he wheezes, clutching his stomach.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You yelp, clambering off the bed in a panic to check if he’s alright. “Are you okay-”

You don’t manage to finish asking your question because your foot catches on one of his long legs and you go sprawling on top of him, face buried in his chest. He catches you with his arms before you can go skidding off him and onto the floor, but the impact knocks the air from your lungs.

“Oww…” You groan quietly, putting one hand on the ground to push yourself off Seonghwa as you glance upwards. “I’m so sorry, I-”

Your words are cut off when you realise that you’re barely inches away from each other, his wide, deep brown eyes interlocked with yours. A gasp catches in your throat as you realise the compromising position the two of you are in, one of your legs slung across his hips with your noses nearly touching.

“I… I’m so sorry-” You babble mindlessly, trying to regain enough sense of mind to get off him before you make this weirder than it already is, but then Seonghwa’s hand catches your wrist and holds tight, refusing to let you go.

Glancing at him in shock, you can count every delicate eyebrow as they sweep against his cheeks, feel his warm body pressed against yours as his eyes blink like the shutters of a camera, as if trying to commit your every feature to memory. He looks equally as stunned as you are by the boldness of his action, but can’t quite seem to pull his hand from yours, eyes still fixated on yours.

The two of you don’t move in the least, frozen in time. Every puff of air that leaves his mouth brushes your lips, as if begging you to take his mouth with yours, and you very clearly see his pupils dilate to twice their normal size, his lips slightly parted as he swallows audibly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

Then that tongue, that stupid, sinful tongue of his, runs over his bottom lip, wetting it before his teeth catch the piercing there, tugging on it lightly and you just snap.

“Damn this.” You curse, grabbing the lapel of his shirt and Seonghwa’s eyes widen with alarm at your sudden aggressiveness.

“What are you do-”

His words are cut off when you lean forward, taking his chin with your other hand and pulling him up towards you. He barely manages to process anything, every thought fleeing him and his mind goes blank, because there can only be one thing you’re intending to do, but you can’t possibly be intending to do that and he must be crazy for hoping that that’s what you’re intending to do and-

Your lips touch.

It’s soft at first, your mouth brushing his like the faintest whisper of wind, barely slanting over it, but it’s enough, more than enough to send a delightful shiver up his spine, his arms feel weak under him and he’s stunned stupid, barely able to process a thing except the feeling of your lips on his.

After a few seconds, you pull away, glancing at him worriedly. He doesn’t respond, merely staring at you like he’s been electrocuted, completely unmoving. Panic floods through you. Did you read him wrongly? Did you overstep your boundaries? Did you just ruin your friendship in an attempt to reach for something more? You almost feel tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, but you force it down, needing to hear him tell you if you’ve done something wrong.

“Seonghwa? Seonghwa?” You ask him softly, but you can’t help the way your voice almost cracks, terrified that you might have just destroyed your relationship in a single blow. Seonghwa, for all his silent calm disposition, merely starts a little, as if he’s just woken up from a deep dream, unfocused eyes slowly shifting to fix on your face once more.

“Again…” His voice is a low rasp, and you stare at him in shock, unsure if you’ve heard him right. He clears his throat, shifting beneath you so that he’s leaning against the wall, one hand coming up to rest against your cheek. Then he looks at you so earnestly, pupils blown wide, meeting your gaze with a pleading one of his own. “Again… please.”

The last word is practically begging you, relief crashes over you. You didn’t mess up, and he actually wants this. So this time, feeling a little more confident, you take your time, thumb brushing the cool metal of his lip piercing and his lips part in response to your touch, teeth coming out instinctively to nip at the pad of your fingers.

Your heart stops in your chest.

His eyes are closed, utterly vulnerable as he waits for you to take the first step. Cradling his jaw gently with the back of your fingers, you lean forward once more, your mouth pressing fully against his this time.

You feel him tremble underneath you, the two of you lost in your own little space and time. You smell clean soap and feel his body heat rising through his clothes as his arms come up to settle on your waist, resting there lightly but never pulling you forward, not wanting to push you. His lips are soft, ever so slightly chapped under yours, and you can’t help but feel the coolness of the lip ring against your heated mouth.

Unconsciously, your lips part and the tip of your tongue strokes it.

Seonghwa freezes beneath you, every muscle in his body going rigid as desire floods through him. Then he’s reaches for you, thumb pressing your mouth open as his lips move against yours once more. As if in revenge for earlier, you tease his bottom lip with your teeth, nibbling at it until it’s swollen and sensitive, before sucking it into your mouth.

A groan escapes his throat into your mouth.

Every part of him is melting into you, and he doesn’t care one bit.

Finally, after how long, neither of you know, the two of you break apart. Seonghwa’s bottom lip is puffy and red and he’s panting for breath, clothes mussed and you rest your forehead against his, arms around his neck as you smile at him breathlessly.

“So,” You whisper to him with a smile that he thinks he’ll never tire of seeing, “what are we now, Seonghwa?”

His mind is still in disarray, but he knows the words that he’s spent the last few weeks practicing in the mirror by heart.

“Please.” Park Seonghwa takes your hands in his, eyes filled with genuine love meeting yours. The next words that leave his lips change everything between the two of you. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Hello, Mother.” Seonghwa stands before a marble tombstone, a bouquet of baby’s breath in his hands as he smiles at the woman in the picture. Setting down the flowers, he watches as the golden brown and red leaves of autumn twirl around him, dancing with the breeze as they fall to the ground, just like they did three years ago when you had met him back in high school.

But this time, he no longer crushes them with his hand, a gentle smile blooming on his face instead like a flower in the spring.

“Maybe autumn can be beautiful too.”

Turning around, he takes your hand. You smile at him and he drops a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, before the two of you turn around and walk down the path strewn with autumn leaves.

[simpmeon]

Red: Betrayal

Pairing: Any Demon Brother x Gender Neutral MC, Diavolo x Gender Neutral MC Genre: Angst Word Count: 2.78k Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Implied smut // Cursing // Violence

The Fall // Rebirth // Betrayal // Companions // Revenge

His face was laced with concern as he saw the tears well up, reaching out to brush them out of your face, but you smacked his hand away. You did not mean it in malice, you were just so confused…so angry…so hurt that a single touch from him would absolutely crumble you. You could feel your demon form flickering, but managed to suppressed the feeling, your gaze hardening.

Today was the day. You were finally going to see the brothers after years of avoiding contact with each other. You were finally able to learn how to control your powers, but Diavolo and Barbatos still could not place a finger on where your power stems from. At first, they thought all the pact marks were what gave you such extraordinary power, seeing as each brother had to give a little bit of their own power in order to make pacts in the first place. While that did have a huge factor on your speed and strength, neither you or them could place how your abilities were far greater than most demons. You and Diavolo often sparred against one another just to have a better sense of control over your demon form, eventually working your way up to fighting together in your true forms.

Your true form was unique in a way because you did not take on a more animalistic form like other demons. You could breathe fire and had armored scales up and down your forearms like gauntlets, and had long black barbs stemming out from your biceps and triceps. You had a long, black forked tongue that dripped poison, and your eyes turned completely black as you grew in size. Your fingernails would turn into huge talons, and your legs would be made of the same scaled armor with barbs. Your wings would grow to be five times as long as your demon form wings and the feathers could be used as a shield or as protection, seeing as they were sharp at the ends for projectiles and filled with venom. Just a few stabs from your feathers was enough for Diavolo to be brought down in his true form, Barbatos beside him to heal him. You and Diavolo were pretty much equally matched when it came to wins and losses between the both of you. Diavolo only beat you by a few only because he knew how to control his body and keep it in control after thousands of years, whereas you only had yours for a couple months and had to figure it out. You were perfectly in control of unleashing your demon form, but your true form was still risky. Come to think of it, you have not been able to trigger your true form since you and Diavolo stopped sparring.

“Was there a certain emotion you felt whenever you would go into your true form? Anger? Fear?” Barbatos asked, handing you another cup of tea. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I dunno Barbatos, it’s almost as if I black put before I get a chance to register how I got to my true form. I muster as much strength as possible and then I black out momentarily and when I ‘wake up’ I’m in my true form.” You responded, taking the cup between your hands and gently lifting it to your mouth. “I have no clue what could possibly trigger it. I’ve thought of everything from adrenaline to grounding to emotions and none of them have been able to work on triggering my true form like when I am engaging in combat.”

He hummed in response, placing his lips on his own cup, his attention drifting as he stared at the cup of tea in front of him. Even Barbatos was completely lost on where your power stems from, he was more confused about how you ended up down here. Sure there were a million different time vortexes, but even then the chances of you becoming a demon were so slim. Becoming one that could match Diavolo fist to fist was an even slimmer chance. Solomon was just as stumped and even his brilliant mind could not pin the situation down, but his hunger for knowledge refused to let him back down from the research without a fight.

All the endless research and training to be in control lead you up to this night. Diavolo was hosting a masquerade gala tonight for the first time in months and he naturally invited all of Devildom and even a few members of the Celestial realm, including the brothers. Barbatos tried in vain to tell Diavolo that it would be better for you to meet the brothers again privately because who knows what could happen at the gala with your true form still being unstable, but Diavolo insisted that a dramatic entrance was far cooler. You opted for a compromise where you would show up to the brothers house before the gala in your normal human form before showing up to the gala in your demon form.

“That way we can gauge how being around them makes me feel mentally and that way we can still get a dramatic reveal that I am now a demon.” You explained with a smile. Diavolo’s eyes scrunched up and he let out another booming laugh.

“Brilliant! I will let my tailors know your measurements and they’ll start constructing what to wear to the gala. Until then, I personally think it is time we pay some brothers a visit.” He spoke with a smile. You could barely contain your excitement at the idea of flying around Devildom with Diavolo to see the brothers. For the past few months you were not allowed to leave the castle until Solomon, Barbatos, and Diavolo got a mostly clear reading on you. Sure the castle was huge and filled with so much to do and explore you would hardly ever call yourself bored, but the city called your name. More importantly a certain house in the distance practically screamed your name. You have not seen a single brother in months. You knew they were alive and causing just as much trouble as always, but you still never saw them in person. You understood that it was not only for their protection but yours as well, but you could not help the aching feeling every time you looked at the house from your bedroom window.

Now that you were in front of the house, the same stone steps in front of you, you felt nothing but nerves. The gala was tonight and you looked stunning to say the least. Your outfit was made of red and gold duochrome fabric that shimmered one color in one setting in another in light, with black lace etched into the fabric as well. The outfit fit you like a glove and passed the wing test with flying colors, making this the perfect one of a kind outfit for you. Barbatos made sure to match the shade of gold shimmers to the gold of the ring around your neck. The mask was just as beautiful as the clothing. Diavolo even matched with you so in case things go south all of sudden at least you had a date.

Diavolo had his arm around your shoulders and you leaned into his shoulder, trying to calm the nerves that kept swelling with each step. What if he opens the door first? What if he’s not even home right now? The possibilities were endless of all the bad things that could happen. You looked up at Diavolo, eyes laced with worry, and all he could do was just give you the same reassuring smile.

“Hey Dia c-could I maybe just…had behind you?” You whispered barely loud enough for him to hear, fidgeting with the ring around your neck. You heard him snort and you saw him shake his head at you before placing his thumb and forefinger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“You’re easily the second powerful demon in all of Devildom, but you’re scared of meeting the Lords after so long?” He replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you scoffed and looked away from him, getting a laugh in response from him.

“Keep it up and I’m going to break your other wing.” You threatened, even though there were no meaning behind the words. Diavolo just smiled and kissed your temple, the contact sending electricity through you.

“Trust me my dear, they missed you just as much as you missed them.” He said reassuringly, pushing you a little bit behind him to obey your wishes. You smiled in response to that, glad to have someone on your side. Taking a deep breath you placed your gloved hand into Diavolo’s and continued walking until both of you were at the door. Your heart was pounding in your chest, making Diavolo chuckle slightly before giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What is the worst that could happen, my dear?” He asked, trying to soothe your nerves. He was right after all, what’s the worst that could happen?

The new exchange student opening the door with a grin on their face was the last thing you expected but their eyes lit up as they looked at Diavolo and you. Even with his mask on, it was hard to miss the demon prince. They only made one glance at you though, before going back to chatting with Diavolo. They were petite in frame, with fiery red hair that swung past their shoulders and beautiful amber eyes. You watched as they explained that the brothers were all still getting ready but that they would let them know that Diavolo was here. Strange, they must have not noticed you. Either that or they selectively decided to ignore your presence. You pushed that thought away and taking Diavolo’s hand, moved closer into the House of Lamentation.

The house was just as you remembered with, chaos and all. The new exchange student ran off somewhere before the two of you could actually get into the house but thankfully both of you knew your way around by now. Your feet allowed you into the kitchen and prepped the coffee, almost as if against your will. The routine was still etched into your brain that whenever you would get home from classes you would go to the kitchen and make Lucifer his coffee for his long night of paperwork. You would then check on him every four hours with a new cup and a snack for him, the strange ritual even following you into the human world. Only this time, the coffee wasn’t for Lucifer, but you and Diavolo instead.

You stepped into the living area with a fresh cup of coffee for you and Diavolo, the fire crackling loudly. You missed being surrounded by so many gorgeous books and the overall calm atmosphere that this particular room brought to you. Diavolo was stretched out on the couch, making comments about the new exchange student.

“They really are delightful, but to be honest Lucifer and I did not particularly want the,.” He muttered to you and you laughed, handing him his coffee before straightening up and looking at all the books.

“Ugh I swear ever since I left this house these books are never put back in the right place.” You sighed, finishing your coffee in one gulp and taking the pile of stray books in your arms, walking up to the various shelves. “I know who does this too.”

“You act as if you have only been gone for a week.” Diavolo commented with a chuckle, causing your cheeks to turn red again.

“Listen Dia, the boys have always been slobs and it used to royally piss me off. I practically had to beat it into Levi’s skull that he has to eat three meals a day and clean his room. I am impressed however that Satan has been at least sticking to his habits of tidying up after reading. Either that or his load was severely light today.” You rambled on, sliding the last book into the empty slot. You decided not to mind the dust that coated your fingertip before you went on a full cleaning frenzy.

“Y/N come sit down before you stress yourself out.” Diavolo recommended, scooting over to allow you to sit next to him. You sat next to him and he stretched his arms out over the couch, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You laughed out loud, causing Diavolo to jump.

“What?” He asked, confusion spread across his face. You practically had tears streaming down your face you were laughing so hard.

“Smooth moves Grandpa.” You said with a laugh, smiling at him. His returned the smile with an even bigger one, chuckling at his own lame attempt to get you closer to him. Both of you just ended up laughing for a few minutes to yourself over it, the atmosphere becoming more and more pleasant.

That’s when you heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. Diavolo and you quickly stopped laughing, deciding wordlessly to try and scare the brothers. You climbed on top of him and threw a blanket over both of you, both of you resorting to nothing but giggles and shushing as you two decided to eavesdrop.

“Ugh I still can’t believe we have a masquerade tonight.” You heard one brother groan followed by a smack and a yelp of pain.

“This is a very important gala you idiot! It’s not every day that we can celebrate the five year anniversary of the exchange program! Five years of demons, angels, and humans getting along is practically unheard of!” Another brother responded. You could almost pick apart which groan belonged to who after that comment, making you giggle.

“Do you think Y/N will be here?” A brother asked excitedly, and you could tell their eyes were lighting up at the idea of seeing you. You heard more footsteps and smiled down at Diavolo with glee as the conversations between them continued.

“For their own feelings I hope not….you know how our brother has been acting since they left! They’d be crushed to find out that he has been doing nothing but whoring around with the other exchange students since they left.”

“Honestly, the rings at this point are just a decoration at this point. Nothing meaningful to them. From what I heard he even stopped reaching out to them.”

“Well then maybe things will be okay! Maybe they moved on from him!”

“You never know….they were hopelessly in love with him. Even I could sense it. I just don’t want them to meet up again, bad enough that all his previous lovers are coming. We don’t need the one we actually love to show up too.”

“They’re our family! I miss them! They haven’t posted anything in months! I’m actually worried about them…”

“Wasn’t Y/N pursuing higher education? Perhaps their job has taken up all their time. Although…they haven’t messaged me in months too.”

“I bet HE has something to do with it! His fuckboy attitude probably ruined everything!”

“Calm down! You know how he acts if we bring them up. I’m sure Y/N has their reasons as to why their contact with us has been limited.”

“Speaking of him and exchange students, where are they right now? The masquerade starts in thirty minutes!”

“Probably having a pre-masquerade fuck. Ugh lets just leave without them! Send them a message saying that if hes going to be balls deep in her that he needs to get his own ride there.”

“You’re right. We can’t just wait for them all the time. Let’s go, maybe we can actually get first dibs on Barbatos’s cooking for once.”

“Wasn’t Diavolo supposed to meet us?” 

“Probably got hung up with some last minute details. Let’s go!” 

Exclamations of agreements came out of the brothers mouths as they all shuffled out of the door. You remained frozen on top of Diavolo, fighting the urge to cry as you just gripped onto his suit. You waited until you heard the door to the house shut before flicking the blanket off of you and sitting up, straddling Diavolo’s waist. His face was laced with concern as he saw the tears well up, reaching out to brush them out of your face, but you smacked his hand away. You did not mean it in malice, you were just so confused…so angry…so hurt that a single touch from him would absolutely crumble you. You could feel your demon form flickering, but managed to suppressed the feeling, your gaze hardening. 

“Let’s go Dia. We have a masquerade to get to.” You said monotonously, getting off of him and making your way to the doors of the house, slipping your mask on. “Our little secret reveal should have an audience.”   

Your back was to him but the look Diavolo just gave you was feral. Tonight was going to be more eventful than he thought.

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

Downton’s Easy Company - Chapter 16

A Band of Brothers x Downton Abbey Crossover

Summary: The new generation of Downton is taking over, but just as the second world war is raging across Europe. On a cool London night, the children of the Crawleys meet the boys of the American 101st Airborne. Worlds collide and hearts are on the line.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @purplelavalamp​​​, @johnny-martin-is-mypeanut​​​, @the-disassembled-boy​​​, @tvserie-s-world​​​, @50svibes​​​, @cherriesx​​​, @incognito-princess​​​, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​​​, @claire-bear-1218, @goingmyway​​​​, @marv-llous​​​, @foalystechcrew​​​, @mother-dearest-loves-me​​, @dench1992​​​, @neverendingstories00​​​, @greenmonkeyfish, @grumpablebutloveable​​​, @lilaxdream​​​ @iilovemusic12us​​​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: I hope you enjoy this update! There’s a lot of letters, but I figured they were the best way to show the time passing while they’re separated, so I hope that comes across to everyone :)

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15

OR

READ THIS FIC ON AO3

Chapter 16 here we go!!!

Dear George,

I’m so relieved you’re back in England. Let us know when you have some leave so we can prepare for you here at home. We miss you a great deal.

Katrine seems sweet enough, though she is rather private. Her boy has made himself quite comfortable, especially with Mama and Papa. We offered to hire a nanny, but Katrine wouldn’t hear of it. It seems an odd way to raise a child to me, but I suppose it comes from her own upbringing. 

You’re right about the boy being bright. Papa and I have taken initiative and are looking into some schools close by. He’s too young to enroll just yet, but we had a tutor evaluate him, and the report was quite promising. 

I do wish you’d tell me how you came by these two. I know you said they helped you when you were trapped in Holland, but I’d like the full story. Perhaps when you come home next, you and I can have a long discussion about it, and the possibilities for the Mondeels here in Yorkshire.

On an unrelated note, have you heard anything from Caroline? We haven’t seen her since before Christmas, and she has not been answering my letters. Have we done something to upset her? If you have any information, do share.

I hope you’re well, my darling.

Love,

Mother. 

***

Dear Ron,

I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you after all those weeks of silence. I’m also glad you’re out of danger (mostly) and can correspond again. I’ve missed you, as weak as it sounds to admit it. 

Baby and I are doing just fine. I am starting to show more now. So much so that I’m finally making use of the maternity clothes Victoria brought me. I’ve had them tailored so that they’re more modern - not that fashion matters much in times like this - but it does make me feel better. 

I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t been in touch with my family. Just Marigold, Sybbie, Victoria, and George. There isn’t much to tell them except the one thing I know I can’t tell them. As I told you, it doesn’t feel like the sort of thing you put in a letter. Do you think I should grit my teeth and bear it? Or can I put it off a little longer? I’m really beginning to miss my mother, whose presence would be much appreciated by her frightened daughter. 

I must make another admission. I am scared of this. Of the birth, yes, but mostly what comes after. We are going to be responsible for a life. It’s completely overwhelming. Not that I want to bog you down, you’ve got plenty to worry about where you are, but do you ever think of such things? How do you feel about a nanny? I had one growing up, but I understand you likely did not. Was it helpful to you? There’s so much to consider.

I’m also trying to come up with names. I like plenty of boy’s names, but I am starting to wonder if we should have a girl name picked out as well, just in case. I really do think it’s a boy, but one can never be too prepared. 

Here are the names I like so far:

Robert (after my grandfather)

Phillip

Theodore (Ted for short)

Wesley

Charles

Let me know your opinion on these. Keep in mind, his middle name should be Ronald, after you, as is tradition. Do you do that in America? 

If you’ve got any girl names, send them along. I really do think we should decide on one of each.

Be careful, love.

Your Caroline

***

Caroline,

Glad everything’s alright. I’m doing fine. I’d tell you more details, but they’d be redacted anyway, so what’s the point?

You tell your family only when you’re ready. Don’t worry about them. Focus on staying healthy. That’s the only priority right now. If you really need your mom, reach out. She might not like it, but she is still your mother. 

Nobody’s ever really ready for parenthood. Just remember that we are adults and it’s a baby. It doesn’t know how to do anything. We can handle this. 

I did not have a nanny, but depending on how the war goes, you might need the help. Let’s play that one by ear. Don’t overthink it. 

Girls' names are irrelevant, we’re not having a girl. 

As for the names you’ve chosen, here are my thoughts.

Robert is a no go. That’s Colonel Sink’s name and I don’t want to give him a big head.

Phillip is a possibility. 

No to Theodore/Ted. Much too old sounding. 

Wesley can stay in the running. 

I don’t like Charles. 

Now, for your consideration, here are names that I like: 

James

Thomas 

Leo

Haven’t been able to think of much more. But let me know what you think. 

Ron

***

Ron,

You are truly a stubborn arse. All the more shame on me for falling for you, I suppose. 

In spite of all that, I thank you for your reassurance. I will wait some more before telling my family. Marigold and Victoria are doing a very good job of caring for me. 

If you refuse to acknowledge the possibility of a girl, I will simply choose a name myself and you will just have to live with it. I like Violet, after my great-grandmother.

As for the boy names you picked out, I have to say no to Thomas. My uncle is Tom Branson, and then we have our butler Thomas Barrow, and I should hate for our child’s name to be confused with those two. I don’t mean that in a bad way, they’re two of my favorite people, but to have three Tom/Thomas’s in my heart would only get confusing. 

The other two names I very much like. So our list is now down to: 

Phillip

Wesley

James

Leo

(and Violet)

We can narrow it down further at a later date. I’m afraid I have to cut this letter short as I have a doctor’s appointment. 

Stay safe, love.

Your Caroline

Speirs wrinkled his nose at the latest letter. It may have also been because of the dank smell of Haguenau, but he preferred to blame Caroline. Truly, he was fond of the final list of names. He stared at the last one that she scratched out and turned it over in his mind. 

“Violet?” he murmured. 

“Sir?” questioned Lipton from his spot on the couch.

Speirs looked at the sergeant. “What do you think of the name Violet?”

Lipton’s brow furrowed. Before he could answer, he coughed, a small rattle still in his chest, though he was doing much better than before. 

“Violet?” he asked. “For what, like a cat?”

“No, like a baby,” Speirs said. 

He still had not told any of his men about Caroline’s pregnancy. He considered telling Lipton now, just to have someone around he could consult on these matters, but thought better of it. Enough people knew as it was and Caroline was not around to give her permission. 

“Ah, I see,” Lip replied. “I think it’s sweet. Traditional, but not overdone.”

Speirs was surprised that Lip did not challenge a baby name inquiry at a time like this. That was Lip, though. All support, no questions asked. Speirs took a deep breath.

“What do you think of Phillip?”

***

Dear Joe,

I hope I haven’t offended you somehow. It’s been weeks with no word from you. And the girls have received letters from others in your company, so I can’t help feeling like it’s personal. If something has changed between us, I hope you will share that with me. Just give me some clarity, please.

Love,

Victoria

Joe sighed, struggling to put the letter into his pocket with the truck rocking through the countryside. Eventually, he tucked it away and buttoned his pocket over it. Webster watched Joe with keen interest. Especially since Joe’s face looked so pained as he read. 

“Everything alright?” Webster asked. 

“What’s it to you?” Joe returned. 

Webster shrugged. “Alright, I’ll mind my business.”

He returned to his journal. Joe chewed his cheek and glowered out at the scenery. 

“It’s Victoria,” he admitted.

He needed to talk to someone about it. Why not Web? 

Webster looked up curiously. “What about her?”

“I think I gotta break up with her,” Joe said. “We’re just...too different.”

“Is that so bad?” Webster wondered. “Maybe you can balance each other out.”

“Nah, I think we want different things,” Joe insisted. “I love the girl, but I can’t ask her to give up everything for me, y’know?”

“I can’t say I’m familiar with the situation,” Webster said. “But I understand what you’re saying. Either way you go, one of you will be making a huge sacrifice. What you have to decide is if it’s worth it.”

Joe heaved another sigh. “I don’t know…”

“I think you have your answer then,” Webster said. 

With that, he started writing again and left Joe to his thoughts. Joe considered that. He wasn’t totally sure about Victoria. If he was, shouldn’t he be willing to sacrifice? But he thought of her sweet smile and the tenderness of her heart, and he felt weak. He was lucky Victoria wanted to be with him, wanted to compromise with him. He had to think about it some more. He needed to decide what he really wanted out of life. But what were the possibilities? They were heading into Germany, but the war was not over yet. 

***

Dear Dick,

Paris is settling down and beginning to feel like the place I left years ago. It’s been fun to take Victoria and Caroline around. Caroline is getting bigger every day it seems, but she’s very healthy. Incredibly, I felt the child kick, and I daresay it made me rather emotional. I feel my cousin is hardly out of her own childhood, and now she is bringing new life into the world. 

It reminds me of my own mother. I wish I could confide this in Caroline, but I feel it isn’t really my story to tell. I’m a key player in it, of course, but obviously my mother’s privacy comes first. Thank you again for your own discretion. 

Seeing Caroline become a mother has also put thoughts of my own future into perspective. After everything I’ve been through, I want very much to live simply. Because of my parentage, I can never really belong in the world my family exists in. I don’t think it’s what I want anyway. I just want a peaceful, quiet place to raise a family and perhaps write a novel. How do you picture your life after the war? I don’t believe we’ve discussed it before. I do hope I am somewhere in your imaginings. You are certainly in mine. 

You are also in my thoughts and prayers. Do take care of yourself. 

Love, 

Marigold

Dick read over Marigold’s words, touched. She said exactly the things he was hoping she would. They were heading in the same direction, with the same goals. It was a relief to him. It was easy to picture Marigold as his wife, at his side. He admired her, respected her, and loved her. 

“What are you smiling about over there?” Nixon teased. 

Dick shook his head. “Nothing. Just something nice Marigold wrote.”

“Oh?” Nix returned, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” Dick said. “I think it’s time to talk about something more serious between us.”

Nix smirked. “Should I say congratulations now or wait until after the ceremony?”

Dick rolled his eyes. 

***

Dear Marigold,

It might sound silly, but I made a promise to myself after D-Day that should I survive the war, I’d find myself somewhere quiet to live out my life in peace. And you are absolutely a part of that picture. You have belonged there since that fateful day in the elevator. 

I’m glad to hear Caroline is doing alright with the baby. I would like to check on Speirs, but it feels like an awkward thing to ask about. So I’m afraid I don’t have any updates on him, though I’m sure he’s in contact with Caroline. 

Germany is surprisingly nice. Maybe it’s the warm weather or the lack of artillery, but we’re enjoying it here. The war should be over soon. So I’m happy to begin planning that future with you if that’s what you want. That obviously includes an offer I’d rather make in person, and we can have that conversation the next time I see you. Hopefully, that won’t be too long. 

I love you and miss you.

Yours, 

Dick

***

Dear Gene,

Bill and Joe are doing alright. They’ll be heading home soon, and selfish as it is, I will miss them terribly. They’re truly the most entertaining patients I’ve ever had, especially Bill. But of course you’re familiar with his personality. 

I hope I’m able to get to Paris soon to be with Caroline. She has asked me to be there to be an advocate for her for something big coming up. Really big. I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly what it is, as it’s just a bit scandalous. But she’s made some wishes known to me. That sounds ominous, but everything is going well so far.

I hope you’re doing well. With spring’s arrival, there must be a bit of a reprieve if you’re outdoors. Do you have a comfortable place to sleep at least? Lord knows you and your men have earned it. 

As for myself, I’ve applied to a university in Dublin, to attend in the fall (if the war is over, and it looks like it may be soon). I think it’s high time I experienced my Irish heritage and I want more for myself. I love being a nurse, but I want to explore all my options. I haven’t told anyone in the family yet. I’m going to Downton soon and will talk it over with George (he’s home on leave), but I wanted to tell you first. I could use additional hopes for my acceptance. 

Look after yourself. Get some rest. Don’t forget to eat. 

All my love,

Sybbie

Eugene tried not to be dismayed at the news. He wanted Sybbie to do what was best for her, but it dashed his hopes of asking her to come back to Louisiana with him. Not permanently - at least not right away - but to see a bit of his world. The way he had seen hers at Downton Abbey. He supposed it was still possible, but there was no guarantee of when the war would be over and their timeframe depended entirely on that. 

Even if she was able to visit, how could they progress together - if that was even what they were - with her in Dublin and him at home? He tried to picture himself staying in Europe, but he hated the idea. He missed home too much. He did not feel he belonged in Europe, nor did he particularly want to. For the first time, they weren’t on the same page.

***

Dear Sybbie, 

Thanks for all the updates on Guarnere and Toye. We’re all worried about them, and your letters put our minds at ease. I know those two appreciated your help too, and they’ll miss you back in the states. 

It sounds awfully suspicious about Caroline. I trust you though. And she must too if she’s asking you to join her in Paris. 

Good news, I am sleeping in a bed most nights. You’re so sweet to worry about things like that for me. 

I’m proud of you for taking a chance and applying to school. Not a lot of girls have the courage to do that, even if they want to. But you’re spirited enough. I have no doubt you’ll get in. You’re a brilliant nurse, and even if you aren’t accepted, you’ll have a great career ahead of you. 

You should tell your father you applied. I think it’ll make him really happy that you’re interested in Ireland. And you’ll have his hopes in your corner as well. 

I know it’s unlikely, but I hope I’ll get to see you before you go. 

Take care of yourself,

Eugene

***

Dear Caroline,

I’m home again on leave, and I still haven’t confessed my feelings to Kat or to Mother. Do you think me a dreadful coward? I’m beginning to think it of myself. In fairness, Mother hardly lets me alone when I’m at home, so Kat and I barely get time together for me to be able to have any sort of real discussion with her. I have bought a ring, though, and enclosed the catalog I purchased it from for your approval. You have very fine taste, and I trust you. 

How are you doing? The arrival should be soon, right? Spring is fully upon us now - truly a good time for welcoming something new. I hope it all goes smoothly and you come out of it feeling as strong as I know you to be. I’m looking forward to your return to Downton. 

Stay safe.

Your brother, 

George

Caroline rubbed her swollen belly as she read George’s letter, her back aching. Her cousins were around her, Sybbie finally having arrived at last. The baby was due soon. May snuck up on her so quickly, she wondered where the time went. Nerves began to eat at her the closer she got, especially since she still had not told the rest of the family. She took Ron’s words to heart. She would only tell them when she was good and ready. 

She decided also to get the birth over with before telling them. Perhaps they would be charmed by how cute it would be - which she was certain of - and would be more forgiving. It was always harder to be honest to someone’s face, especially a baby’s, and Caroline was banking on that. Plus, she wanted to arrange for George to be with her when she told them. She hoped he would wait on proposing to Kat. The ring he chose was stunning, and she made a mental note to tell him so.

On the morning of May 8, Caroline enjoyed breakfast with Sybbie and Victoria while Marigold went down to get a newspaper. Caroline sipped her tea and hoped there would be some good news at last. 

“Why don’t you just turn on the radio?” Victoria wondered.

“Because it’s ghastly noise,” Caroline said. “Mornings are meant for quietly reading the newspaper like sensible people.”

Victoria laughed and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, Marigold burst into the room, looking winded and completely shell shocked. She’d clearly run all the way up from the lobby. 

“Goodness, Marigold, what is it?” Sybbie asked. 

“The war is over,” Marigold blurted out, holding out the day’s newspaper. 

They all saw the VE-Day headline, though they couldn’t quite believe it. After all these years at war, it had become the new normal. The send offs, the letters, the telegrams, the sleepless nights. It was all over. No more fighting. No more death. No more. 

“Good God in heaven,” Caroline breathed out. “Can it really be true?”

“It’s right there in black and white,” Marigold said, staring at the paper as if it were a bomb that might take her hand off any second. 

They all feared this was a dream they might wake up from. Slowly, Sybbie rose from her chair, tears filling her eyes. She gazed at each of her cousins, who she truly regarded more as sisters now, and she reached for their hands. She took hold of Caroline’s, Caroline took hold of Victoria’s, Victoria took Marigold’s, and then Marigold and Sybbie completed the circle. 

“We made it, girls,” Sybbie said. “And so did our men.”

Caroline blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. She took a deep breath and blinked the rest away. 

“What are we blubbering about?” she joked. “This calls for a celebration! We should be ordering champagne not crying like babies!”

They all laughed and agreed, fighting the lumps in their throats and the mist in their eyes. And they did order champagne. Together, they shared a toast to the end of the war, and the start of their new lives. 

***

Dear Marigold,

I’ve talked things over with Colonel Sink, and he’s agreed to have you all join us in Zell am Zee, Austria. Our lodgings will suit you well, I think. Plus, I know Ron is anxious to be present when Caroline gives birth. Hopefully, it hasn’t already happened. If you can clear it with her doctor to travel, let me know when we can expect you. 

Looking forward to your answer. 

Yours,

Dick

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

The Rumor Around Hogwarts (Ch.3)

Chapter Three: Hello Stranger

Male reader insert for now, future addition of they pronouns as it will lean more towards a non-binary insert with the only change being less reference to Y/N as a young boy and more gender neutral terms. Still masc/male aligned. 

No real warnings for now except canonical mentions of neglect

This chapter is a little over 1.5k words. A lot of it comes directly from the book but if you want to skim/skip that part there is a huge space and a line where it starts and ends.

Not really proofread but I hope you Enjoy!!

To say [Name] was excited to go to Diagon Alley would be the understatement of the century. Somehow he had found out exactly when the majority of new wizards would be buying new supplies for their first years. Of course, with his mom being who she was, he’d missed it, but something deep within told him today was the day he needed to be there. 

‘The universe and mom conspiring. Plausible’ he thought aloud

“Mom! Hurry up or I’m taking your purse with me to Diagon Alley. All by myself.”

“I’m coming, Haven’t I apologized enough? You’ll get there when you need to be.” she said as she entered the kitchen. She grabbed a piece of toast from the house elf, grabbed her purse and approached him waiting near the front door. With a smirk she started “besides, it’s all part of the universe’s grand plans, isn’t that right darling?” 

Though [Name] loved his mom she sure could be a little shit. It’s why she was the perfect “master” for his house elf. Apparently the elf belonged to his father’s family and he refused to be let go. Believe me M/N tried many many times. But every time anyone mentioned freedom he would go berserk and the sight was unbearable to watch, so they’d just decided to keep him for the time being. [Name]’s mother set a rule though, if the elf were to stay he could not refuse help with any of the chores and could not punish himself. 

Compromise was one of the hardest things for everyone in the house. ‘My way or the highway’ was an unspoken family motto. And though he was a mean and stubborn houself, he was a part of the family. But that doesn’t mean he had to be nice to him

“Goodbye midget” [Name] yelled over his shoulder, earning a scowl and some mutterings

“Why do you do that” his mom asked casually “it’s not that different from his actual name, so why not just call him by his real name”

“Because he hates it” [Name] responded “and why am I getting a lecture from you. The queen of passive aggressiveness towards him. You forget I can hear what you’re really thinking when you talk in that saccharine sweet voice of yours. Save it for someone who can’t read minds”

She huffed and nudged him to the car. “I can't wait until you start driving. Or apparating, whichever you choose first. As much as I love doing some things the muggle way, I’ll never get used to traffic.”

[Name] picked up some dirt and tossed it to the ground with a loud and clear “Diagon Alley” before getting in the passenger's seat. M/N laughed at him and poked his side before starting the car. 

“I can’t believe my baby is starting Hogwarts.” She sighed out. And turned on the radio before pulling out of the massive driveway.

The journey to Diagon Alley was not very exciting for [Name] but for Harry it was a life changing experience.

____________________________________________________________

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. 

“It was a dream” he told himself firmly “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.”

There was suddenly a tapping noise. And there’s Aunt Petunia knocking on the door. Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“All right,”Harry mumbled “I’m getting up”

He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.

“Don’t do that.”

Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped it’s beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

“Hagrid!” said Harry loudly “There’s an owl-”

“Pay him,” Hagrid into the sofa.

Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London and buy all yer stuff for school.”

Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them.He had just thought of something that made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.

“Um - Hagrid?”

Mm?” said Hagrid who was pulling on his huge boots.

“I haven’t got any money - and you heard Uncle Vernon last night … he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic”

“Don’t worry about that,” said hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?”

“But if their house was destroyed-”

“They didn’t keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold- an’ I wouldn’t say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake either”

____________________________________________________________

A boat and train ride later, Harry and Hagrid had arrived in London and made it to the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry was recognized by everyone in the pub. Including a stuttering Professor Quirrell who introduced himself as Harry’s Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA for short) professor in the upcoming term.

Gringotts was the next stop and it was a particularly interesting event for Harry. The boy who had grown up on scraps from the Dursleys and hand me down clothing was shocked to see so much money in his name. The goblins were obviously a new experience. Then there was Hagrid’s secret mission from Dumbledore.

After parting with Hagrid, Harry had entered Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions alone and nervous. The situation was not remedied by a pale faced blond in the back of the shop who spoke pompously and reminded Harry of Dudley. His casual mentioning of wizarding culture left Harry feeling stupid. When the pale boy had begun talking bad about Hagrid, Harry knew he wouldn’t like the boy and could offer nothing particularly interesting to the conversation.

A lot of questions and shopping later, Harry had to get his wand. Truth be told, this was the part that Harry had been anticipating the most. Entering the shop which read Ollivatders: Makers of Fine wands since 382 B.C, Harry began to be a little overwhelmed and swallowed any questions he might’ve had.

The man seemed to know whom he was and asked Harry a series of questions to find the perfect wand for him. There were a lot of trials and errors, swishes and flicks, and damage done to Ollivander’s shop. Until finally the right wand was found. And it was a little… curious.

“It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar.”

“Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember. … I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter. … After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, ye but great”

“And you’ll get them.” All eyes snapped towards the unexpected voice “the great things.” 

“I believe you’re right Mr [Last Name].”

Somehow in all the chaos, neither Ollivander nor Harry had noticed [Name] was in the shop the whole time. He’d already gotten his wand but when he recognized the boy from the zoo he wanted to catch up.

Noticing Harry’s uncomfortability with the subject of Voldemort, [Name] had started up a totally different conversation while escorting Harry out of the shop.

“Fancy meeting you here. I guess the universe was actually looking out for me. I’m [Full Name] by the way. Nice to meet you Harry Potter”

“Nice to finally put a name to your face. I’m not sure what you meant by the universe but I’m glad we got to meet again. I had no clue you were a wizard”

“... Are you like new to the wizarding world or something? I mean I’ve been raised going to muggle schools but even I would’ve figured out the boy who didn’t react to me doing magic was a wizard”

“It was unintentional”

“Still magic”

It was getting darker and both [Name] and Harry had to go soon. Harry was still a little glum from the conversation with Ollivander, but [Name]’s playful banter had brightened his mood. Harry needed more people like that. Like [Name] and Hagrid, who just saw him as Harry Potter, and not as the boy who lived. 

“Will I see at Hogwarts [name]?” Harry asked hopefully

“You bet. Find me on the train. Or rather, I’ll find you. Then maybe I’ll show you something cool I can do.” 

Now Harry had two things to look forward to. Hogwarts, and Hogwarts with [Name].