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withthewerewolves · 10 months

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GoldenHeart Fix-it AU

Ok, so I know that everything between Ballister and Ambrosius needed to happen for themes, and parallels, and narrative foils, and all that freestyle jazz. I realize that changing this sort of ruins Ambrosius’s character, and makes Nimona a sidekick in her own story, and such. But consider this-

It made me Sad.

So what if an AU where Ambrosius is messed up by being the direct descendant of Gloreth in a slightly different way, and is a little less hinged as a result.

The beginning goes down exactly as it does in the movie. The sword pommel lights up, the queen dies, Ambrosius swings his own sword. There’s a moment where it all freezes, Ballister still on his knees, gripping the place where his shoulder ends, big brown horrified puppy eyes locked with Ambrosius’s, begging for something (forgiveness? understanding? his arm back?) that Ambrosius can’t pull his scattered thoughts together long enough to give him. And then the jumbotron crashes between them, and when the dust clears, Ballister is gone.

I don’t know exactly how long it is between the Night of Knights and when Nimona finds Ballister. It has to be long enough for him to:

a) find the hideout and equip it with what he needs

b) design and build a prosthetic arm (using his nondominant hand)

and c) heal enough to install said arm.

It also can’t be too long, because:

a) the knights haven’t managed to track him down yet (perhaps this is giving them too much credit)

and b) the story is still all over the news.

I’m thinking this means less than a month, but not very much less.

In the movie, Ambrosius spends this time doing…something unimportant. Crying in his room? Punching training targets until he can’t stand up? Researching survival rates for unintentional arm amputation? Doesn’t matter. In this AU, he spends it spiraling. He starts with one absolute: Ballister wouldn’t do anything bad. He saw the sword kill the queen with his own eyes, from much closer range than his nightmares would prefer. Alright. So why, then, WOULD Ballister do such a thing?

He’s already struggled enough with the pressure to live up to Gloreth’s memory. We see that this sits heavy on his golden shoulders, and that both the Institute and the people put him on a pedestal. He’s seen the way the other trainee knights treat Ballister. We see that it bothers him, that Ballister instinctively holds him back from fighting Todd, as if this has happened before. We know that he knows that Ballister has worked harder than anyone, that he’s the best in their year, and that his lack of noble blood may (will) still ruin things for him. We know that he cares about protecting people, that he considers that to be a knight’s job. We see him choose to protect civilians, clearing the streets, when all the other knights rush to fight the monster. He can't be totally satisfied with the Institute’s training and ideology.

He doesn’t eat (he can still smell the burning flesh as his sword cauterizes Ballister’s arm, even as he cuts through it). He doesn’t sleep (his dreams are nothing but green light and Ballister’s pleading eyes). He reads a lot of anti-monarchy blogs. Maybe he finds some futuristic-fantasy Karl Marx. Maybe there are some activists protesting systemic inequality and they have a website with a list of useful terminology and their definitions. He absolutely does not research mortality rates for unintentional arm amputation. He stops telling himself that has no clue where Ballister might have gone (maybe it's time to give up lying to himself altogether).

He leaves the Institute. He maybe says some imprudent things as he’s leaving ("Bal was right! Any system that allows you (Todd) to be a knight deserves to be brought down! Tyranny never wins for long!”). He sort of wants to leave his sword and armor behind, possibly with some amusing graffiti scratched into them, but he doesn’t know what Bal might be planning, if he might need it, and surely it’s symbolic, to attack the Institute using the tools of its oppression? On that thought, he does make one tiny detour on the way out.

He finds Bal. There was only one place for him to be, once Ambrosius set aside the need to arrest him and let himself remember. I think it has to be before Nimona finds him, because Ballister puts on the new arm right before, and I want him not to be wearing it when he cautiously opens the door to his crumbling hideout to find Ambrosius framed in a shaft of late-afternoon sunlight, hair limp, eyebrow twitching like it used to before big exams, eyes maybe the tiniest bit wild.

“Ambrosius?” Ballister is pretty sure he isn’t hallucinating. Yeah, the initial wound was rough, and the shock got to him, and he definitely had a fever for awhile there. But he’s been lamentably rooted in reality for weeks now, and he thought he was over that little mental hitch every time he heard a noise in the next room and realized anew that Ambrosius wasn’t the one making it.

“Thank Gloreth,” Ambrosius says, because he may not have researched unintentional arm amputation but he does have an overactive imagination, and here Ballister is, upright and maggot-free and wielding a broken mead bottle.

He has a speech planned. He’d recited different parts of it over and over on his way here. There were some good bits in there.

Instead, he sees the gap where Ballister’s arm should be and loses the structural integrity of his skeletal system. “Darkness Beyond, I chopped off your arm.” His voice is mostly air pretending to be sound.

“Uh,” Ballister says. “Yeah.”

“I need to sit down.”

Ambrosius maybe clanks a little as he sits (it’s not a fall if you state your intention before you hit the ground), but it’s ok because Bal is wearing his armor too (except for the right vambrace - nope he can’t think about that or he’ll vomit) and he clanks too when he crouches in front of Ambrosius, filling his entire visual field (the edges will come back eventually, he can still see the important part).

“I CHOPPED off your ARM.”

“Are you here to -”

“I chopped OFF your ARM.”

“You were disarming a weapon -”

“Who even does that? Who chops off people’s arms?”

“You were just following our training -”

“Arm chopping is NOT a LOVE LANGUAGE.”

“Forget the arm!” This catches enough of Ambrosius’ attention to drag him back into himself, because Ballister doesn’t actually get upset that often. He can’t afford to, not where the other knights or their trainers might see. He especially can’t afford to, when it’s just the two of them and Bal has to shove all the anger back down himself.

“I don’t think I will ever forget the arm,” he says, but he smells Ballister’s sweat, like after they used to run miles in heavy armor, instead of roasting meat. He sees confusion and concern in Ballister’s eyes, instead of that horrible entreaty he never managed to answer.

Ballister clunks to the ground beside him, back to the stone wall, missing arm shielded by his body. “No. I don’t know that I will, either.”

Ambrosius doesn’t know what thoughts Ballister is caught in, but he can’t help drinking in his silhouette, familiar and beloved and so much more fragile than he’d ever imagined.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he asks, even though he told himself he wouldn’t.

Ballister turns toward him enough that Ambrosius can see the bitter quirk of his lips. “For the arm? Or for thinking I would kill Queen Valerin?”

The last minutes have been the closest Ambrosius’s mind has been to still since that series of frozen seconds after Ballister’s sword flashed, followed by his own, but now it screeches to a halt. “You….didn’t?”

Ballister’s head swivels slowly to look at him, like in one of those scary movies Bal likes so much.

“Why not?” Ambrosius asks. It isn’t the question he means to ask.

“WHY NOT?!”

“I mean - because the monarchy is an outdated system that prioritizes bloodlines over ability - and the whole idea of nobility is classist - and the other trainees were awful to you just because you grew up on the streets - and why do we even HAVE kids growing up on the streets, do you know how much the Institute’s operating budget is? We could fund a million orphanages! Or -”

“You think I would kill the Queen because some assholes were mean to me?” Bal is not tamping his anger down now. Ambrosius reminds himself sternly that Bal doesn’t like being angry, so it’s rude to think about how hot it makes him look.

“No! I knew you’d have other reasons!”

“The Queen is the one who LET me train to be a knight, even though I’m common born!”

“She shouldn’t have had to let you, you more than earned it -”

“So you thought I would KILL someone?!”

Ambrosius doesn’t have anything to say to that. He’s busy trying to re-sort all the stuff he JUST re-sorted to make room for Ballister killing the Queen, to make room for him NOT to have killed her. Does that mean he should put it all back where it was? How can he, now that he’s seen? He isn’t sure he wants to. He slumps back against the wall. After a moment so does Bal.

“So what…did happen?”

Bal swallows hard, his nervous tell. He doesn’t look at Ambrosius. “I don’t know.”

Ambrosius is running on fumes, and he’s had to reorder his worldview twice in a short period of time, but he does still have a brain under the fabulous hair. “Someone framed you.”

Bal glances at him through the corner of his eye. He’s somehow both more open and more closed off than Ambrosius has ever seen him. “Yeah.”

“Were you the target? Or the Queen?” Yeah, he’s been reading the anti-monarchy blogs, but no one seems to have any specific issues with Queen Valerin. She’s fine, as far as queens go. No one has mentioned assassinating her. Actually none of them seem to have any plans whatsoever. But the activists have plenty of plans, and they didn’t talk about assassinating her either. Isn’t there supposed to be a different internet, just for criminals? Maybe they talked about it there?

“Gotta be the Queen,” Bal says. “Which means the real killer is still out there.”

"Hm," Ambrosius says, because he's thinking about all the stuff people have been saying about Ballister, both online (where he can scroll past it) and in the Institute mess hall (where he cannot). He's wondering if Todd, who is unfortunately not as stupid as he looks, could have pulled off something like this, when he feels a light touch against the outside of his thigh, where his chainmail doesn't cover.

It's the first time Bal has touched him since before the ceremony. It's just the barest brush of the side of his hand, and could've been accidental except for how it's carefully placed so he can feel Bal's body heat through the cloth of his trousers, and how he knows that Ballister doesn't touch people by accident.

Ambrosius can't tear his eyes away from Bal's hand. He's not wearing his gloves (glove). The skin on the back is cracked like it gets in the cold season, unless Ambrosius sits on Bal and applies the moisturizing cream himself. The nails are ragged and bitten close to the quick, and something dark is trapped under them, possibly the same something that's streaked along the base of his thumb.

How's he supposed to clean under his fingernails with one hand? How is he supposed to WASH his hands, for that matter? Ambrosius quickly stops thinking about it. He’s here now. He'll clean them himself.

"Do you believe me?" Ballister asks, and Ambrosius darts his gaze up to Bal's face. It's turned away, as if he can't stand to see the answer to that question.

Bal's chin is scratchy where he hasn't been maintaining his facial hair, but Ambrosius revels in how warm and alive he feels under his fingertips as he tilts Bal's face toward him. "Bal," he says. "Of course I believe you."

Something in Bal's eyes breaks, or heals, or cleaves like a sword through bone. He slumps, suddenly looking like a teenager playing dress up in the huge armor he'd worked so hard for. Ambrosius wishes he wasn't wearing his own, because Bal tips so that his head is buried in Ambrosius’s chest, and that would be so much more satisfying for both of them without a chestplate.

Ambrosius buries his face in Bal’s hair (lank and unwashed, but smelling so much like BAL that he wants to roll around in it) and maybe cries a little. Bal maybe cries a little too. Ambrosius makes a mental note to get them both out of their armor as soon as possible because he needs to hold Bal properly, feel the warm living weight of him, maybe lay down and pull Bal over him like a blanket, revel in the soft puffs of Bal’s breathing, the chill of his toes, the flutter of his eyelashes against Ambrosius’s skin, the physical realness of him. All the little details his imagination could never get right.

Probably he does get to do this. Probably he gets them bathed and wearing fresh clothes (he probably packed a duffel bag from their shared dorm room), and maybe feeds them both some canned beans he finds in Bal’s mostly empty cupboards. Probably Bal shows him the prosthetic arm, which is nearly finished, and lets him marvel over the genius of it. Probably he says that once they’ve got Bal’s name cleared he should become an engineer, what was he doing wasting a mind like that on being a knight?

Probably they get to take a nap, pressed together on the couch. Probably Ambrosius is horrified anyone has been sleeping on that biohazard, let alone someone with a healing wound. Probably he’s too tired to come up with anything better.

If we’re kind, we could maybe give them just this one sleep without any nightmares. They need to be firing on all cylinders, because they’re going to be woken by a loud banging at the tower door.

I personally think it would be very funny if Ambrosius is completely on board with all of Nimona’s plans. He probably pushes for non-violence if possible, and then when that fails, for at least leaving innocent civilians out of it. Nimona isn’t convinced the civilians ARE innocent, but Ambrosius has some ideas for breaking stuff that intrigue her. Bal is horrified by the entire conversation, and has to be talked out of just going to the Institute and explaining himself. It works this time though, because Ambrosius knows exactly how unreceptive the Director is going to be.

Todd is the one leading the search this time, so he probably leads them in completely the wrong direction while our heroes talk to the squire. But if they do have a confrontation, it’s worse. There’s no intention to arrest them unharmed. There’s no chance to explain. No relationship talk over locked swords. He’s got the knights shooting to kill.

I’m not sure how Nimona reveals her shapeshifting. Probably Ambrosius is just as upset as Bal is, but he and Nimona are anarchy buddies. He makes himself take a step back and examine his initial reaction, possibly while narrating his thought process. If he didn’t condemn her for skewering guards on her rhino horn, he can’t condemn her for HAVING a rhino horn, can he?

Maybe the happy ending for them is this AU is different from the happy ending in canon. Maybe after they release the video of the Director, they do set out together to explore the world beyond the Wall, all three of them. But it isn’t because they’re afraid of the kingdom or the people in it. It’s because they aren’t tied to the kingdom anymore. They’ve all moved past the boxes the kingdom would try to put them in. They don’t NEED the kingdom anymore. None of them are going to be alone.

And adventure awaits.

#nimona #ballister x ambrosius #please talk to me guys #I wanna DISCUSS #my writing #not!fic

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f1-stuff · 1 year

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People is saying that one of Charles conditions to renew with Ferrari is that Carlos leaves at the end of the season.

And you know, makes me wonder if I have kept my tl very Charlos friendly because I have no idea where they get this information.

I also got a little sad because my mind went WHAT IS CHARLES ACTUALLY DOESN'T LIKE CARLOS AT ALL AND DOESN'T WANTS TO WORK WITH HIM.

But Charles can't act to save his life so even if they aren't friends (I want to believe they are) , I think they actually know how to work together.

I haven’t seen this rumor bc I too keep my tl charlos friendly (which maybe you could do some house keeping if this showed up on your dash ❤️). I thought about not answering this question, just to keep it off my blog, for example. But I also don’t want to ignore you bc I’ve been where you are: feeling sad about a rumor I’ve seen and wanting reassurance from somewhere.

Anyone who wants to know my thoughts can read below the cut, but otherwise, keep on scrolling friends!

Get ready for the essay...

I'm not going to list the reasons why people spread these rumors because I want to focus on the positives, but trust that I entirely typed it out, then deleted it realizing it would only perpetuate negativity. Instead, I'm going to focus on the part where you said it made you doubt whether Charles really likes working with Carlos.

People spreading these rumors cannot argue that the reason is that Charles doesn't actually like Carlos or like working with him because every interaction between the two of them says the exact opposite! If you watch any interview or video with the two of them together, they are giggling schoolboys who clearly get along. And any interview they do separately, they have nothing but respect and praise for each other. So don't worry yourself over whether Charles really likes Carlos - that much is obvious.

Charles himself has said that he isn't demanding 1st-driver status at Ferrari, but wants them to choose a driver at a certain point in the season - that he wants both himself and Carlos to have equal opportunity at the season's start. Just like every driver on that grid, he wants to be world champion, but I can guarantee that he wants to win it fair and square, and not with any favors done to him. But he also realizes that at a certain point, driving ability can only get him so far, and he needs the team's full support to win the WDC. That doesn't mean he's writing Carlos off as a bad teammate - it just means that whichever driver's doing better at a certain point, Ferrari needs to prioritize.

I'd also like to just pose the question, if it's not Carlos in the other seat, then who is it? No matter what, Charles is going to have a teammate, whether that's Carlos or not. And I have a feeling that no matter who is in that other seat, fans would find a way to have a problem with them because no matter what, they pose a threat to Charles' success. I think it's probably been a happy surprise for Charlos that they work so well together and push each other the way they do. But even if that weren't the case, they'd get on with their jobs like the professionals they both are.

Charles says what he means, and often does not hold back in front of the media when it comes to his real thoughts/feelings about something. This is one of the reasons why we love him! He and Carlos really get along and have a good time together, and have listed the reasons why in interviews (one of those reasons being their shared values and philosophies and work ethic, not to mention their other shared interests and hobbies, and the fact they can talk about more than just racing when they're together).

They are one of the best driver pairings on the grid, if not the best, and if Ferrari makes some changes this season, they could be an unstoppable force. There are other strong driver pairings, obviously, but I'm not sure any of them would have maintained the same respect for each other that Charlos maintained in a competitive car last season, with all the ups and downs.

Anyway, don't let these rumors get to you anon! I'm sorry for the essay, but hopefully this makes you feel a little better. There's no way to stop people from speculating and stirring drama, but all you have to do is look to Charlos' actual interactions to reassure yourself that they at least do not let what happens on track affect their personal relationship. And both have said countless times (and i'm sure, will have to say it countless more times) that they are thankful to each other, and always work well together.❤️

P.S. remember that time Charlos did that couples tiktok trend... yeah, me too.

#thank u to all the gif makers i used as evidence for this argument lol #anon #ask #charlos

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buttercupjosh · 4 months

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Opinion/Rant: To start, I’m bringing up something that occurred back in 2020 but myself and some others didn’t see the actual video until 2021. This post is a bit long but please bear with me. Anyways, I’m bringing this up now because I’ve noticed throughout 2023 and throughout part of 2024, there’s been a big resurgence of Vince content on here (yeah, I already know he’s cute and a talented player, I used to hold space for him on my blog and post about him in the past) but a part of me feels like people have either forgotten about what he did or they just don’t know what occurred so this post serves as an educational post for those who may not know (or a reminder for those who may have forgotten) and is not intended by any means to cause any drama. I also do share some of my opinion on what happened in this post as well.

For those who don’t know or remember, back in 2020, Vince used to do live streams of him playing video games on Twitch during COVID lockdown and during these streams, he would play music while he played games. On one of these game streams (I don’t know which specific one it was from), Vince was singing along to some song and the n-word came out of his mouth (the video of the incident is at the very end of this post). Yeah, I know he listens to a lot of rap and R&B and I’ve seen some people say that he was drunk when it happened and that the song was choppy but that doesn’t excuse him saying it. According to others who watched the stream when it was fully available, Vince allegedly didn’t apologize for using the word and when he was called out for it in the stream chat, he allegedly got a bunch of people to harass the person who called him out.

As someone who’s Black, it hurt me a lot to hear Vince say the n-word, even if it was for a second. For those of y’all who defend him and act like what he did wasn’t wrong or trying to come up with excuses for him, you don’t fully understand how painful and harmful his actions were. Just because I’m Black (I personally choose not to use it) and other Black people say it freely, that does not mean the word is okay for just anyone, regardless of race, to use in any context. Just because Vince didn’t say it to me or anyone directly, that doesn’t mean what he did is acceptable. To me, hearing a non-black person use the N-word any capacity is extremely personal because it’s been used towards me in a negative way by non-black people throughout my life. It also bothered me that Vince allegedly didn’t have the decency to even say “whoops, sorry I said/did that” when he was called out for it on the game stream and allegedly resorted to downplaying the situation and having people harass the person who called him out. I am not trying to play the victim but I am trying to educate y’all on his actions and to also let y’all know why some people don’t like him.

Another thing I’m going to note is that you cannot always automatically assume that someone you don’t know personally has put in the work privately over something they were exposed for publicly if they haven’t shown any public sort of proof of some growth. That means you can’t come to me and say “he may have learned from using that word” when there’s no public evidence anywhere that he has. If you choose to believe he has, then that’s your opinion. To me, Vince could have publicly shown some sort of growth by doing something as small as posting a blackout Tuesday post during the height of Black Lives Matter movement in June 2020 or liking a tweet of support from that time or maybe even participating in some of the Kraken’s Black history related stuff (like how Grubauer and Blackwell talked about Black hockey history with J.T. Brown and Everett Fitzhugh) (I know February is right around the corner with Black History Month and if Vince does something then, maybe my viewpoint on him may shift a bit). Yes, I did see a video of Vince talking about his thoughts on BLM and he did make valid points about how not everyone has to be posting online to protest injustice. However, Vince didn’t clearly say anything that showed he did something about it offline besides using an example of how if a rapper goes to a protest, everyone knows who the rapper is and if he were to go, no one would know who Vince is and also saying “who’s to say I’m not going to protests or donating to certain charities”, without saying he actually did those things. (A good example of a player being called out/exposed for something but fixing what they did is when Quinn Hughes didn’t use Pride tape once but later on, he used the tape and even made inclusive comments during the NHL pride tape controversy last season).

I AM NOT SAYING OR IMPLYING VINCE SHOULD BE CANCELED OR THAT HE IS A RACIST OR A HORRIBLE PERSON BUT HE SHOULD BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE BY HOCKEY FANS. Holding him accountable means that if you want to, you can still like him for the benefit that he has on your team or recognizing his talent or some of his community work but you can also remember what he did in the back of your mind. (Think about/keep that in mind when you post about him too).

I know that it’s not always easy to hold someone that’s on a team you like or someone you liked beforehand accountable (there are several players on teams that I like who help my team succeed and players that I’ve admired before but I don’t like or agree with certain, questionable things that they’ve done) but if accountability looks like no longer holding space for them on your blog through posts or putting them up on such a high pedestal in your life or to stop thinking they can no wrong, that’s fine too. Holding a player accountable looks different for everyone and there’s no set formula/guidelines for that.

If you still want to support him after seeing this post and watching the video below, then that’s on you. If you choose to not support him anymore or at all, that’s on you. However you choose to feel about it is valid and I respect that (even if I see it differently). I know that he’s never going to address or acknowledge this and I understand that it happened back in 2020 but his silence on the matter nor should the amount of time that has passed shouldn’t stop fans at all from holding him accountable.

(Again, this post is me sharing my opinion on something Vince did, educating those who may not have known about it and also reminding those who may have forgotten this happened. Again, I’m not saying or implying that he is a racist or should be canceled. All I’m trying to say is that he should be/start to be held accountable by hockey fans. We all hold our own bias when it comes to things and I’m not using this post to try to push anyone towards a certain side either. Again, I’m also not saying he’s a horrible person either. Interpret all of this information however you want/choose to.

Also, if you’re even thinking about sending me a hate anon for this, go touch grass or get better hobbies. Better yet, if you send me a hate anon, just know it’ll go into the trash with your garbage words.

Lastly, I am also going to say that I do not tolerate nor support/agree with anyone going after anyone who still chooses to support Vince or chooses not to support him and if you do that to someone, you’re a very scummy person. Also, I am not going to send anyone anything about this either because I got all of my thoughts out here and respect others’ opinions so if you somehow get a hate anon about it, it’s not from me because I dislike the feeling of getting one and wouldn’t want to put someone else through that).

Video Info:

Twitter/X Link to Video

Actual Video from Twitter/X for those who don’t use Twitter/X

#vince dunn #seattle kraken #rants and rambles #(Seattle fans please don’t block me)

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dearweirdme · 23 hours

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I was thinking... I know this blog is about Taekook only and other members from time to time, but I want to know what do you think of the other ship? For example yoonmin and Namjin? Or even sope.

For me I simply think there is nothing currently but I can't help but think about the possibilities of them having a possible crush on the other.

I think yoonmin have had something in the past. I'm probably wrong but when I watches their past content, I could just see it. Or even the recent ones. I won't say there is a relationship going on but probably a simple crush or whatever.

Namjin was one of my ultimate ships when I was a baby army. Spending four years into this fandom actually made me think I was wrong all along and that the possibilities of Namjin being in a relationship is probably the lowest one between all the other ships. Back then, I could see some tension but today, I see nothing. They are both important for each other, for sure. But I see nothing.

Last, for some I actually never thought they were ever in a relationship. I don't think they are now. But sometimes I do have the feeling that one of them probably had a crush on the other sown the road. But not something serious. Just a little crush. Today they just give me best friend vibe. Same as jihope.

Hi anon!

I love talking about the way members interact! When I started getting into BTS’s music what really made me become an invested Army is the way members function as a group. I absolutely believe the way they care about each other is real. If I has to choose a hill to die on it would be the hill called ‘BTS members love each other’. There’s probably not a word good enough to describe what they mean to each other, they’re friends, but also kinda family, but they have also spent way more time together than usual groups of friends or family probably do.. they have seen each other through many ups and downs and they know each other’s struggles and insecurities better than anyone else does probably.

I think every member brings something special to the group. I have a special place in my heart for all of them. I think that is how it works for them too. They have different connections with different members and ofcourse some duos are closer than others.

Aside from Tae and Jk I don’t think there’s another romantic/former romantic couple amongst them. I think many times a certain softness gets mistaken for romance and I think many times physical intimacy gets mistaken for sexual interest. Aside from that, with the exception of Tae and Jk, I think if you look at all the duos general interactions you will soon find that they are just close friends. For instance, I find many interactions between Yoongi and Jm very soft and sweet and I feel Jm definitely gets a side of Yoongi that other members don’t. But their overall interactions to me make it seen like they are friends who are each others biggest source of comfort and strength. I think Yoongi has been extremely important for Jm’s confidence and I think Jm gives him room to let down some of the walls he has built. What I love about Jm is that he is so full of empathy and he never hesitates to comfort the others.

I am so glad that Namjoon wasn’t the eldest in the group on top of being their leader. I think Jin being the eldest Hyung has been very important to the whole group, but to Namjoon specifically. I don’t really see more than trust, gratitude, friendship between them. I have to admit ofcourse that I wasn’t around for a huge part of time and I haven’t looked into Namjin/TaeJin/Sope/Jinkook/etc the way I have Taekook (and Jkk). That’s mainly because aside from Tae and Jk the other duo’s interactions just never click as potentially romantic to me.

#taekook #members #ship analysis

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blubushie · 1 year

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leafanon here! for the ask game: literally do all of them. coward.

Oi! Be a little nicer to me leafanon, I’m sensitive!

1: Who is/are your comfort characters?

Look at my blog, mate. Have a guess.

It’s Jesse and Mundy. Both of them. At the same time. 25% Jesse, 75% Mundy.

2: Lighter or matches?

Lighter! I’ve got two. Both are Zippos. My first ever lighter I bought was this one because I liked the colour and design. The one I currently use is this one but I have “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the evilest son of a bitch in the valley” engraved on the back. It’s the same thing my dad had engraved on his lighter in Vietnam. On the lid it says “If you wanna root smile when you give this lighter back” because I thought it was funny. It hasn’t worked yet but that’s only because no one’s asked me for a light.

3: Do you leave the window open at night?

I can’t sleep unless it’s open.

4: Which cryptid do you believe in?

Unironically most of them. I am convinced of the existence of the Loch Ness Monster, I’m convinced of sasquatch from personal experience, I have personally seen a yahoo, I’ve met ghosts, and I’ve seen UFOs. I believe that there’s creatures in Kakadu that are still Dreaming. I think the chupacabra is a coyote/fox with mange but I am convinced that it does exist. THERE ARE PANTHERS IN THE BLUE MOUNTAINS.

5: What colour are your eyes?

Blue-grey. Blue in sunlight, grey indoors. Colour depends on how much light they’re getting.

6: Why did you do that?

Because I wanted to.

7: Hair-ties or scrunchies?

Only ever grew my hair out once where it was long enough to need tying up and even then I rarely tied it up, but ties. They’re versatile.

8: How many water bottles are in your room right now?

One. Both of my canteens are in Matilda.

9: Which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

Hot. I don’t trust people what drink cold coffee. You psychos scare me.

10: Would you slaughter the rich?

I don’t really do politics.

11: Favourite extracurricular activity?

Bushwalking. Hunting. Fishing. Writing.

12: What kind of day is it?

A really nice one. It’s night now but the frogs are croaking away outside with the crickets. Sky’s clear.

13: When was the last time you ate?

About an hour ago. Make one of those instant pasta meals.

14: Do you love the smell of the earth after it rains?

YES.

15: Are you a parent?

I have Misty. She definitely makes me feel like I'm parenting a toddler.

16: Can you drive?

I’m an excellent driver.

17: Are you farsighted or nearsighted?

Only slightly nearsighted. It’s not enough where it really has any effect, and I don’t have to wear glasses or anything. My vision is practically 20/20.

18: What hair products do you use?

Dog shampoo and the Sheila hates me for it. On the plus side it leaves me smelling nice and I don’t have fleas. It’s also a bonus because I can bathe Misty at the same time I bathe myself, which is how it all started anyway (she just HAD to pull me into the tub). Usually I’m doing spongebaths or bathing in rivers without any soap (I’m not going to fuck up an ecosystem just because I want to smell nice) but when I do find a hotel that takes animals or when I’m here in California, out comes the dog shampoo. I use TropiClean now. Smells like citrus.

19: Imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

I haven’t painted anything in years and I’ve never painted anyone’s nails, but I’ve got a very steady hand so I reckon I could try.

20: Do you say soda or pop?

Neither. Fizz. It’s fizzy drink.

21: What’s something you’ve kept since childhood?

My stuffed bear. His name is Mr Bear because I wasn’t a very creative 2-year-old when I named him. I’ve had him since I was a baby.

22: What kind of person are you?

The… people kind? Scratch that. The cryptid kind. There’s at least two towns in Australia what have folklore about a ghost accompanied with a dog and a rifle slung across his shoulders. The amount of times I’d taken the piss out of people making that story come true is hilarious to me (and one of them is a story that originated within the past two years so I might actually be responsible for that one. Oops.)

23: How do you feel about chilly weather?

I don’t mind it at all. My area of California routinely gets frosts and hail (but never snow). Rural California taught me to tolerate cold, Australia taught me to tolerate heat.

24: If we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

Drinking beer and stargazing. There’s literally no other reason for being on a rooftop, unless some assassin shit is going down, in which case I wouldn’t bring you with me because no witnesses.

25: Perfume/body spray or lotion?

Neither. My only fragrance is Hoppe’s #9, tobacco, and campfire smoke clinging to my clothes.

26: A scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

First time the Sheila read my fic and she gave me her thoughts on it. I go back and re-read that at least once a week. I live for it and sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me writing.

Also just talking to people in general. I sit in Matilda and rehearse what I’m going to say for minutes before I actually go into the servo to get something. I always have a plan.

27: About how many hours of sleep do you get?

Usually anywhere from six to nine but I can run off 20-minute catnaps every few hours if needed for about 3 days before I need at least an hour of uninterrupted sleep (yes I’ve tested this).

28: Do you wear a mask?

I’m not around people. Ever. I wore a mask to my allergist the other day though. Unless it's required I'm not wearing one.

29: How do you like your shower water?

Cold. Hot is a luxury I can’t get used to.

30: Is there dishes in your room?

No. I always do my washing up immediately after eating. Handwash, hand dry, put them away.

31: What kind of music keeps you grounded?

Country.

32: Do you have a favourite towel?

No. Do people normally have favourite towels?

33: The last adventure you’ve been on?

Hunting in WA.

34: Is there a song you know every word to by heart?

Waltzing Matilda. Also And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda. Also Give Me a Home Among the Gumtrees.

35: What’s your timezone?

Right now? PDT.

36: How many times have you changed your URL?

I’ve only ever had one account before this (back when I was around 12) and lost the password. I’ve never changed this one’s URL since I made it.

37: Who is someone in your life (besides a relative) that you’ve known for 10+ years?

My rifle.

38: What’s a soap bar that smells good?

All of them? Reckon that’s the point of soap.

39: Do you use lip balm?

Like chapstick? No because I’m not a sook. Let your dehydrated lips crack and bleed like a real man.

40: Did you have any snacks today?

No.

41: How do you like your coffee?

Black as my soul. Really though, I like it black. No milk, no sugar.

42: What’s an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken website?

None. I have a Twitter but I only follow artists on there and I never use it.

43: What’s your take on spicy foods?

I don’t like spice. Burns my tongue. I’ll leave that to the ethanol.

44: You get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

Fuck off, FBI.

45: Can you remember what happened yesterday?

I went to the allergist, came home, took Misty for a long walk, made dinner, finished up a scene for chapter 11 and then got some paragraphs in for the next scene where Jesse is lusting after Mundy because he’s hot and then the Sheila and I spent twenty minutes sharing in communal brainrot over it.

46: Favourite holiday film?

Somewhere between Polar Express and A Christmas Story.

47: What was the last message you sent?

“Defo been hitting that gym,” referring to Ganondorf in Tears of the Kingdom.

48: When did you first try an alcoholic beverage?

Helped dad and a neighbour muster cattle all day, I was fucking exhausted, covered in sweat, and we lounged around in the shade of an oak tree like a couple of cowhands as we watched the cattle graze. The neighbour’s boy showed up with a few beers in his saddlebags. All four of us shared them. Neighbour’s boy was 17. I was 15. I earned that beer. On that note, I learnt to make screwdrivers when I was 10. I make a damn good screwdriver.

49: Can you skip rocks?

Excellently.

50: Can I tag you in random stuff?

Of course! I love being tagged in things. Bonus points for anything related to Sniper, Australia, or animals.

#blu whos

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holisticsoulhealer · 1 year

Text

Growth - A Spiritual Story

This is the place to go ahead and grow, and keep growing. We are either growing or stagnating. Growing it way more fun and better for our health and mindsets.

This life journey is ultimately all about how we grow who we are, and where the freedom of our expression is during that growth.

I am always growing and I love to work with growing others in the work that pours through me. The healing work is designed to nurture and help others to continue to grow their future, acknowledge their current reality, and in some cases to grow beyond any past that deserves to be left behind. I often feel like I’m a time traveler, sometimes going from the back to the present and then into the future. It’s quite fun and always more than interesting. The work that pours through me to serve others, also grows me in my own life path.

Growth can be painful even when entirely necessary.

I’ve seen many heart openings, as well as heart breaks over the 30 years of doing this special work. I have witnessed individuals who chose to place their spiritual growth first, needing to walk away from their children, parents, siblings and other family members. Leaving people behind is often part of the process of growing ourselves.

Ultimately we actually don’t leave anyone. All we do is have the faith that each of us is on our own journey, and our job is to follow our own growth, rather than place any focus at all on where anyone else is. There are times in life when we will level up, grow beyond where we have been, and sometimes in the midst of this, cause ourselves to stand in new territories, that we may never have been in before. Climbing the mountain of enlightenment, means that we cannot look down at where others are on their mountain of self-discovery. Instead we deserve to keep noticing where we are walking and what we are attaining in our own path.

Stopping our journey to wait for others to catch up, does and will stunt our growth.

I feel quite sure that I have left as many people behind me, as I’ve yet to meet in front of me on this pathway. However, I’m open to that changing. I remain open to the fact that our World is waking up, and lots of individuals will grow so much, that they will stand and walk beside me for a while, and many will pass me to move at a quicker pace to reach their own enlightenment. I love this potential and wish this level of growth on our planet and all the star systems that support us. I celebrate in our continued growth.

As always, please share this post with anyone that you feel can benefit from it! Please like us on your social media channels and subscribe to our mailing list if you haven't already done so! We are mailing out a monthly newsletter and a recap each week of our blog posts and interesting tidbits! This is how you can stay informed with what is new in the world of The Holistic Soul Healer!!

Love & Blessings,

Ruth

Get personal with your Angels!! Connect with me and see what they have to say!!

BOOK NOW!

0 notes

write-and-buried · 2 years

Text

Evening

Porn Star Dieter Bravo x Porn Star F!Reader

Summary; with nothing left to shoot, you and Dieter have dinner. A direct sequel to Afternoon

Word Count; ~5k

Content | Warnings; brief mentions of pandemic, professional sex work and discussions of said work, feelings, use of sex toys, spit as lube (they should know better), anal play, rimming, oral sex (f!receiving), PinV sex, dirty talk

Authors Note; The conclusion of the trilogy. Thank you so much for loving this ridiculous idiot as much as I do.

This blog and its contents are intended for users over the age of 18. by clicking 'read more' you agree that you are above 18 years of age, have read the warnings, and wish to proceed.

“And you have to do your own taxes!” Dieter spills his beer as he gestures wildly, half shouting into your apartment as he laughs, throwing the cloth over the new spill. He’s spilled his beer twice since you’ve been here, staining his shirt and your couch and now the carpet.

“I have an accountant now, so not anymore, but yes, starting out you have to do your own taxes”

“Fuck that”

“I do” you say, making him laugh again.

God. You could listen to that on repeat forever. It’s rough like sandpaper, scraping against your ribcage as you sit with legs tangled on your couch, drinking a beer with some show you’ve both seen 100 times on in the background, the night an inky black outside your living room window.

Tacos had strayed into staying too long, sitting on the tray of his truck as the sky streaked purple and pinprick stars began to appear. You traded stories of humble beginnings, both of you admitting that you got into the industry for a laugh, before finding a passion for it, finding you were good at it. You both had no plans of slowing down.

“How does that work with relationships?” You had asked him, the shyest hint in the lilt of your voice. You’re not sure if he caught it, grabbing another chip and cheese combo from your shared pile.

“Hm, it’s better now” he said, scrubbing over his jaw. “When I first started, nobody wanted to be in a relationship. Outside the industry it’s tough, when your job is to be intimate with another person. But over time, people’s minds have gradually relaxed on it, and I haven’t been in a serious relationship in a while anyway, so I couldn’t say. Why? You got someone?”

He sounded nervous there, picking at his cuticle.

“No” You answered, too quickly. “I was single when it hit, and that’s what led me to start up in the first place. I haven’t really considered dating since… I’ve been too busy… hadn’t really had the chance to meet anyone new… or that I liked…”

He rubbed the back of his neck at that, and you could see the tips of his ears flush.

You had suggested the trip back to your place. He was fascinated by the behind-the-scenes of shooting your own content, and you hung on that as an excuse to offer to show him your setup. You hadn’t even made it into the room yet, an offer for a beer devolving into a conversation on the couch, your feet in his lap as he absently rounded your ankle with a soft touch.

Comfortable. Safe. That’s how you felt. He was like a warm blanket, all thick fingers and goofy grin. It was hard to believe it was the same man who unspooled you like forgotten thread with nothing more than words and brushes of his fingers. Every time you remembered that your stomach clenched. The scrape of his lips on your jaw, the firm grip he held on your thighs as he spread them open, the press of his hips flush against yours…

“You’re smarter than me” he said, tilting his head back to rest on the couch, distracting you with the bob of his throat, the patchy beard, just greying at the edges.

“Dieter?” You ask quietly. “Does it work? Dating while you do this?”

“Yeah” he says, rolling his head to look at you. “Yeah, it does. You just have to know what you’re getting into, and be okay with it. Some people just won’t be, and that’s okay. But a lot of people are. That’s why so many stars date each other – it’s easier not to get jealous if you’re doing what they’re doing. You just have to talk a lot, and be with someone you like talking to.”

“Do you only date within the industry?”

“No, my last relationship wasn’t in it. It was easier, because I only work with the opposite sex, so Mark never saw it as competition”

You can feel him watch your reaction, seeing if there’s a flinch or a twitch. You don’t give him one, instead another part of knowing him slotting into place, a puzzle just starting to take shape.

“Why’d you break up?”

“Me and Mark? He wanted kids” He sighs. “And I wasn’t ready, or I don’t want them at all, and it wasn’t fair to keep a relationship going on a possibility. He’s married now, they just adopted a little girl”

The smile that creases his cheek is warm, soft and genuine and full of a nostalgic affection.

“You don’t want kids?”

“I haven’t really thought about it yet. Unless we’re talking about a baby goat. I’d adopt one of those adorable little fuckers in a heartbeat”

Dieter watches as you laugh. He’s trapping the rest of it in his chest, wrangling the words back down his throat as he circles the soft skin of your ankle. He wants to tell you that it works when it’s not just about sex. It works when there’s someone you can sit on a couch and have a beer and laugh with, someone who you want to keep kissing, off camera, whose skin you cant stop touching, who makes you feel like a horde of angry bees have taken up residence in your stomach, the itch to reach out and brush hair from their forehead consuming until your fingers shake with the effort to keep them still.

But he doesn’t. cursing himself as a coward he drains the rest of his beer, setting it aside to take your bare feet in both his hands, press deep into the arches to make that sweet noise come from your lips, the pulse beat in your throat as your head tilts back.

“Want to see where the magic happens?” You ask, raising your eyebrows as you stand up, grabbing both your empty drinks to discard as you walk into the kitchen.

“Lead the way”

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t know the layout of your apartment. He stares at your ass anyway. It’s a low thrum in his skin, buzzing across his senses as he shoves his hands back in his pockets. It’s different. There aren’t any camera’s here. Your job has been done for hours now, and you’ve both danced right up to the line of admitting that there’s something. He’s not sure why you’re playing chicken with admitting it, he’s not sure why he is either. But the need to feel your lips on his again is turning into a high-pitched whine in his head, a pounding rhythm that he doesn’t trust enough to keep his hands free.

Your filming setup is genius. His brain quiets briefly as you open the door to the room, allowing him to step ahead of you to look at the space.

You’ve set it up like a bedroom. Not a fantasy bedroom, like so many sets he’s been on, but an actual bedroom. The duvet is a muted pink, the sheets look rumpled, as though they’re frequently slept in. There are chargers and a clock on the nightstand, a lamp that could have been thrifted, a half full water bottle. Only standing off to the side of what would be in frame can he see it. The hidden strip lights along the bedframe. The foam on the headboard, painted the same colour as the walls. There’s a microphone attached to the ceiling, hanging just out of focus. Mirrors with bright bulbs for the best lighting, storage under the bed with handwritten labels in neat script, more lights, tripods, camera batteries, memory cards.

Behind the mounted tripod is a white IKEA bookshelf, with toys organised it neat rows. There’s a calendar on the wall, the same neat script marking days, weeks in advance and colour coded. He grins a little when he sees his name on today’s date, there’s a heart over the I in his name. A small desk in the corner houses a computer, wide monitor and comfortable chair, memory cards labelled with post it notes.

Pride is a punch to his gut. It almost knocks the wind out of him, the organisation, the diligence and care you have put into every aspect of your work, digging your toenails shy into the carpet as you needlessly straighten a row of plugs while he looks around.

“I like to be organised” you say quietly.

“This is fucking spectacular” he replies, spreading his arms as a grin crosses his face. The smile you give him feels like the first bloom of spring.

“You built an empire from this room. Look at this! Jesus, all I do is show up and shove my dick in things, but you… fuck”

Your cheeks burn at the praise. You look around, trying to see the room from his perspective, and your stomach does a strange flip. You like that he likes it. An anxiety you didn’t know was there vanishes in a second, the flash of his grin burning it away as your shoulders relax.

“You do more than shove your dick in things” You answer, coming to stand beside him as he pokes curiously at the foam behind the headboard.

“Not compared to you” He says, tossing a wink over his shoulder as he straightens, clearing his throat. “Do you have a favourite?” he gestures to the display of toys.

“Real favourite or a fan favourite?” You reply.

“Real favourite, we aren’t on the clock pet”

It shoots lightning down your spine. A reminder that you’re not performing right now. That he’s here because he wants to be here and because you want him here. Settling low in your stomach you wander to the shelf, organised by use and colour. The fan favourite is the largest in the lot, poisonous green and thick as a fist, you bought it for a Halloween show, found that your audience enjoyed seeing the sweat drip from your skin as you moulded your body to it, the high whines as you slowly inched over the toy.

But that’s not your favourite. It sits in the back, rarely used for shows these days, having moved on to bigger, flashier items. But it will never leave your shelf.

“This one” You answer, holding it for him to take. It’s small, comparatively. The stainless-steel plug catches the light, weighty in his palm as he rolls it between his fingers, looking at you curiously.

“It’s the first one that I bought with money I made from shows. First thing this job ever paid for” You answer, remembering the thrill of pressing purchase on it, knowing that your past activities had paid for future ones. You mostly used it for prep, an additional layer of stimulation that could be caught glinting and glistening as you contorted your body for the best angle, your back arched and legs spread as you filmed.

You watch as Dieter rolls the toy between his fingers, testing its weight and shape, as he absently bites at his lip, swallows once.

“What does it look like in?” he asks, looking up to meet your eyes.

“I can show you if you’d like…” You start, reaching for the toy. He moves quicker than you’re expecting, grabbing your wrist and pulling you from the room. He shuts the door behind him and pulls you gently down your hallway to your actual bedroom, grabbing your hips to pull you flush to his body.

“Not there. Here. This isn’t work.” You can feel a tremble in his fingers as he holds you close to him, the metal plug adding pressure to his grip. “I want you. Since you kissed me on that couch, and every fucking moment since, yes?”

He’s searching your face, looking for permission, for acknowledgement, for something. Turning to toss the plug onto your bedspread he doesn’t seem to notice the dirty laundry kicked into a corner, that your bed hasn’t been made since you left it this morning, the gathering of empty water glasses and coffee cups on your vanity. His hand is warm, broad as it cups your jaw.

“I like you” he says softly, the smallest quiver in his voice. “I want this because I like you. But only if you…”

You don’t let him finish, reaching on your tiptoes to kiss him, your arms around his neck as he lets out a deep groan, his hand splaying wide across your lower back, stooping to kiss you harder. His hand tangles in your hair as he reaches further down, grabbing your ass over your shorts, fisting the fabric in a tight grip.

“I like you too” you murmur between nips of his teeth on your neck.

“Thank god, I’ve been wondering… wait, fuck!” He stops so abruptly you’re shocked, standing still as he pulls back to look at you. “I don’t have any condoms.”

A laugh bubbles out of you as you look at him in confusion.

“This isn’t work, and I can’t just assume…”

“Have you fucked anybody since you fucked me six hours ago?” You ask, reaching to the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head in a smooth motion. You gently tug on the hem of his own until he follows suit, his shirt landing on top of yours.

“No” he says, his eyes darkening as he stares at your bare chest.

“I haven’t either” you reply, hooking your thumbs into the hem of your shorts, pushing them to the ground as you kick them delicately into the corner with the other laundry. Your underwear is just plain cotton, but he’s looking at you with the same gaze as when you walked into the room wearing slutty porn lingerie. “I’m fine without if you are.”

“Turn around” he says, low and gravel deep as he puts his hands back on your hips, turning you to face the wall.

“Why?” You ask, unable to keep the grin off your face. The lust in his eyes is almost comical, the tremble in his fingers would be humorous if it wasn’t matched by your own.

“Because I want to eat your delicious ass until your legs give out, bend over” his hand cracks lightly on your cheek, making you brace yourself against the wall. You fight the instinct to arch your back, present yourself as though he was a camera for an audience, instead giving in to the tremble in your knees as he slides your underwear down, kissing the back of your thighs. The scrape of his beard on the sensitive skin makes you shiver.

“You know how fucking hard it was?” he asks, almost to himself as his breath ghosts across your skin. “Had so many things I wanted to do to you today, but I couldn’t keep it together long enough to do them. Your fucking mouth baby, fuck, almost had me coming down your pretty little throat in seconds.”

He spreads your legs wider, makes you bend further, pressing your cheek into the wall as his lips brush your clit, his nose sliding through your folds.

“And then I did lose it didn’t I?” he continues, dragging his fingers to spread you wider for him, holding you open as you can feel the vibration of his voice through you. “Lost in the minute I got inside you, like a fucking amateur. Never felt anything so sweet as your cunt gripping my dick pet, I can’t wait to feel it again”

You whimper as his hands trace the globes of your ass, pulling you open as you dig your nails into your palms, trying to keep still. You can see his lower body, kneeling behind you as your legs spread wider, your eyes squeezing shut and flying open with every press of his fingers.

“But this” he mutters, dragging his mouth up, until you can feel the ghost of breath across your exposed skin. “Wanted to do this since I saw your first video. Spread you nice and open for me, see if I could get your thighs all messy, just like this.”

He blows lightly on your skin, the wetness smearing your thighs turning instantly cold, making you tense as he presses a soft kiss to your clit.

“Dieter, please” You manage, pressing back into his face, wanton in a need for some kind of contact, your skin vibrating to match the deep rich hum of his voice as he presses lightly on your back, makes you arch into his mouth, the wide flat sweep of his tongue pulling something low in your stomach.

“Fucking heaven. Gonna be a day soon where I’m going to tie your legs to bedposts and have my fucking fill of this cunt. Tongue fuck you till you’re crying for me, get you nice and open and so fucking messy. Christ”

His fingers find your clit, reaching to circle it in soft swipes, a lulling gentle rhythm that almost distracts you, before his mouth traces up, circling the soft ring of muscle that tightens at the contact. It’s new for you, a sensation you haven’t experienced yet. You’ve stretched, you’ve fucked, but nobody has ever caressed.

His mouth is gentle at first, probing and soft as he matches the rhythm of his fingers, swirling circles around the rim of your ass until you’re mewling, curling into them, fighting which sensation feels better when they both feel so good.

“Dieter, oh my god” You can’t breathe from it, you feel unsteady, dizzy and drunk from the sensation as he holds you steady with an arm wrapped around your thighs, his fingers still circling your clit. Occasionally his mouth strays, collecting slick on his tongue to press back into you, the slow dismantling of your senses as you spread your legs wider, press your forearms harder into the wall.

You hear the soft sound of fabric moving. Forcing the starburst brightness from your eyes you manage to catch a glimpse of him, shoving his own pants down enough to free his cock, hanging heavy between his legs as he squeezes roughly with a free hand.

The sight of him, leaking and blushed darker, thick against his own palm makes you moan, your knees trembling at the sight.

“Like it? Seeing exactly what it is you do to me?” He asks, nipping lightly at the flesh of your ass, the sting of teeth making you cry out. “I want you to cum for me, I want you to cum with my tongue in your ass”

He presses his fingers harder into your clit. You can feel the catch of teeth as he returns, licking and biting to your fevered skin. Everything moves like a dance, his hand fisting his cock, his mouth on your ass, his fingers on your clit until you’re shaking, the tremors wracking your body as you smack your hand against the wall, feeling the sting ripple through your body as he moves faster, ratcheting up each sensation as his tongue breaches the tight rim of muscle.

You shatter, your body convulsing as his hands come to grab your thighs, tongue fucking your ass through the aftershocks as you shake and come apart on his face, a deep groan of satisfaction rumbling through him as you weakly scrabble against the wall, feeling him shift behind you, running a finger down your spine, your skin hot and damp.

“Fuck that’s pretty baby.” Dieter says, tracing a gentle fingertip around the rim of you. “Like it’s begging to be filled.”

He kisses your shoulder, so tenderly before moving away. You don’t think of moving, there’s no conscious thought in your head aside from keeping you upright, your knees struggling to stay locked as you feel the drag of cold steel against your spine.

“I can’t wait to see what this looks like when I fuck you with it in. You’re going to be so full for me aren’t you. Here, get it wet for me”

He presses the plug past your lips, cursing under his breath as you look over your shoulder as you wet it for him. He’s naked now, occasionally squeezing the base of his cock as he watches the plug leave your mouth with an audible pop.

You relax. It’s warm when it touches your skin again, slick and sliding around the rim of your ass. Dieter stands closer behind you, close enough to slide the wet head of his cock through your folds, catching on your clit as you moan, your eyes drifting shut.

It’s heavy when it breaches you, you can feel the tight stretch of it briefly before it slides into place, snug and full. Dieter stays still, allowing you to wiggle until it feels comfortable, your breathing even and deep.

Dieter’s almost grateful he’s cum three times today. The sight of you, back arched and spread for him with the glint of the plug catching the light, the searing heat from your pussy and the breathy little whine of his name would be enough to make him lose it otherwise. He’s shaking, hands trembling with how turned on he is by the way you look. Your eyes glazed over in pleasure as you press back into him.

“Come here” He pulls you to him for a searing kiss, spinning you so he can press his body up against you, grab and squeeze your ass that has a perfect mark of his teeth on it. You moan every time, the plug shifting inside you as he manoeuvres you both to the bed, sitting back on it to let you straddle him, the slide of your cunt across his cock making him clench his jaw.

He watches your face this time, the way your mouth parts, the bubble-gum pink of your tongue wetting your lip as you sink onto him slowly, his hands on your hips to guide you gently. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a flash of pain skittering across his nerves as you stretch yourself onto him. He can feel it. The unforgiving weight of the plug, rubbing right against his cock as your head falls back, exposing that gorgeous line of your throat.

He runs his tongue across your pulse, tasting the sweet salt on your skin as he wraps his arms further around you, pulling you down harder onto his lap, your clit grinding against his pelvis as he watches, the way it flutters through your lashes, the crease between your eyes. He laves your neck, your shoulders, scraping teeth and lips as he holds you close and lets you use him. Grind against him in a stuttering rhythm, the noises wet and slick under the breathy little whimpers that are driving him mad.

His teeth on your nipple make you arch backwards, his hands splaying up your back as if he’s holding something precious. It’s syrup slow, soft as he lets you take control of speed, the pressure inside you building. You feel so full. Full of him as the stretch blooms hot through your abdomen, drunk on the adoration in his eyes as he drinks in every inch of your skin, his control over his own body tenuous at best as he moans low in his throat with every roll of his hips.

“fucking hell, the things I want to do to you” he murmurs, grabbing your chin to lick inside your mouth, press his hips into yours a little firmer, his hand a little tighter on your skin.

“So do them.” You say, a grin spreading your face as he cups your jaw.

His hand cracking across your ass makes you cry out, shifting the plug inside you, you clench around him, hard. Dieter lets out a low growl in response. He flips you onto the mattress like you weigh nothing, your body feeling strangely empty as he slips free.

He grabs a pillow, rolling you onto your stomach as he uses it to prop your hips up, legs together. You feel the weight of him as he straddles your thighs. You can feel a tremble in his fingers as he brushes hair off your shoulder, leaning close enough to press a kiss to the skin.

“Ever since I got you in front of that mirror, I’ve wanted you like this. Wanted to pin you down and watch you take it. Fuck you so hard you can’t see straight. And now you’re pinned down and your pretty little ass is full of that plug and I’m going to wreck this cunt. I’m going to fuck you until you cum and soak me and then I’m going to keep fucking you”

His voice is close to feral. You can hear the ragged edge of each breath he’s taking as he drags his cock up and down your folds. You can’t move, can’t spread your legs the way you desperately want to, you can’t get enough breath to feel your lungs properly with the way he’s pressing his body into yours.

“Word is still the same sweetheart” he says, soft and curling like smoke through the air. A reminder, gentle and delicate, that he won’t go further if you don’t want to. The sweetheart curls in your gut, sinks fangs in your belly and sets you alight as you buck backwards into him, your arms stretching to grab the sheets as he notches the head of his cock to your folds. You nod, understanding and trust as you feel the blunt head of him stretch you open, his name a whine on your tongue.

He gives you no warning before he thrusts into you. It’s brutal, fast and messy as you hear the wet slap of his skin on yours, feel yourself pressed deeper into the mattress. It’s the same feeling from this morning, surrounded by him, completely engulfed by the weight of his body, the delicious mounting friction as he hammers into you with abandon, raspy growls of your name falling from his mouth.

The plug makes everything feel more. You’re fuller, stretched tauter, each thrust jostling everything inside you until you’re nothing but a raw nerve, scraped blind by each thrust of his hips into you. You can feel the orgasm deep in your bones, rolling like a freight train as it barrels into you, your vision going white as you bury your face in the duvet to scream his name.

He keeps fucking you, a relentless rhythm as you hear the wet liquid suck of your cunt, clenching against him as he drives his full length into you again, pounding you with a primal, reckless abandon. He finds your hand, wraps his fingers into yours as you hear his breathing turn shallow, the bounce of him against your ass less rhythmic as you feel the control in his movements wane, shattering completely when you deliberately raise your hips to meet his, clenching hard around the thick weight of his cock.

You can feel it. The slow pulse of his cock as he cums inside you, pressing himself impossibly deep, twitching release to pool sticky and hot inside you as stars burst behind your vision, everything turning technicolour as your body sinks further into the mattress with the press of Dieter’s body. You feel his teeth on your shoulder, a rough scrape and a messy kiss. He’s a comforting weight, his head dropping to rest between your shoulder blades as you feel him huff a laugh.

“One of these days, I’m going to be able to fuck you for more than fifteen minutes”

You feel him smile into your skin as you giggle, the deep chuckle he lets out matching your own as you feel his thumb absently stroke your knuckle. You can feel his stomach pressing into your lower back, the wilt of him softening out of you as he presses gentle kisses on the curve of your spine.

“Are you thinking of how this would look on camera?” you ask, a wide grin splitting your face at the thought of it, this body completely covering yours, no room between your bodies to fit a playing card, let alone a camera or equipment.

“No sweetheart” he says, reaching to brush a lock of hair behind your ear, kissing the side of your mouth. “I’m thinking of you”

He orders you to stay still as he rears back off you, removing the toy with care and a soft hand.

“Bathroom or kitchen?” he asks, standing and wincing as his knees pop.

“There’s a little dishwasher on the counter” you reply lazily. Your body feels limp, warm and gooey as you tuck your arms under your head in a makeshift pillow.

“I was wondering what that was for, you’re so fucking smart” he says with a quick kiss to your spine before he leaves.

In the brief silence you wonder, letting a gnawing doubt nibble at your consciousness if this was it. If it was just one more round to get you out of his system, some itch that needed scratching before he went back to normal.

“Tell me if it’s too hot” he says, running a warm towel against your inner thigh. You moan lightly at the sensation, soothing against your skin. Your body is officially done for the day. You can feel the protest starting in your muscles, the stretch that will turn to an ache in the morning.

“Don’t make sounds like that, there’s no way I can go again” he laughs, cleaning you with precision before coming back with a glass of ice water.

“Drink.”

You sit up, letting him watch as you drain half the water in one go, your throat sore from the screaming and soothed by the cool drink. He places it on your nightstand before reaching for you again, pulling you both under covers until you’re cocooned in darkness with him, talented fingers pressing into your spine as you bury your face in his neck.

“I meant it” he says quietly, kissing the top of your head. “Can I stay?”

You giggle, the hesitation in his voice adorable as he gently massages your spine.

“Of course you can. I warn you though, I feel like I’m going to be out of commission for a few days at least”

“Fuck, sweetheart, me too” he laughs. “I’m thinking tomorrow, we can sit on your couch all day and watch TikTok and read all the comments about our upcoming collaboration”

You’re already falling asleep, the gentle lull of his voice and the warmth of his skin, the way he’s clinging to you as he speaks, dragging his fingers down your spine.

“First of many?” you ask, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah, first of many”

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dieter bravo smut

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dollwritesarchive · 2 years

Text

𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝓉 ⎹ 𝓜.𝓚.

fandom kin / charlie cox masterlist

featuring michael kinsella x ex!reader ( f! )

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning michael is really drunk, angst (poorly written angst, to be exact), very small amount of violence, reader is late 20s, Michael is slightly toxic, accusatory language, very briefly gets physical

summary Michael finds out why you stopped visiting him in prison.

word count 3.2k / one shot

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

“And that was it?”

“Yeah, that was it.”

“She didn’t say anything else? Nothing?”

Jimmy sighs, drumming his thick digits on the steering wheel. “She told me to go fuck myself, does that count?” casting a sympathetic look to his brother, he leans back. “She was pretty clear, Mikey. She didn’t want to be around the Kinsellas anymore.”

Michael grimaces, shaking his head. “That just— it doesn’t make sense, does it?” his words were slurred, but luckily Jimmy was used to translating drunken Mike’s babble. he looks back to the quaint home across the street where they were parked. “That wasn’t… she wasn’t like that.”

his brother nods, looking towards the house, too. “Remember when she nearly threw fists with Birdy for telling her she wasn’t one of us?” he chuckles, albeit bitterly, “Little firecracker wanted to go on every job with you, too. Thought she could actually keep you safe.”

Michael smiles sadly, remembering how adamant you were. “She hated that Frank wouldn’t let her help.” he offers.

“Amanda always said she couldn’t stand when you went on jobs, your girl would be up all night pacing the floor. Drove her up the wall.”

“Exactly.” Michael recalls, before shaking his head, “So, why…?”

frowning, Jimmy grips Michael’s shoulder with a vice mitt, “Maybe she wasn’t cut out for the wait, brother. Not everyone is. When you go away, most folks aren’t there when you get out. You know that.”

Michael wants to protest, he wants to curse his brother for even assuming that you didn’t love him enough to wait for him, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t find any words true enough to suffice. it had been nearly a decade since he’d seen your face. recalling how you looked during the last visit, he wanted to be sick to his stomach. crying, your eyes were puffy, and your hands shook. he couldn’t hold them, the guards too keen to punish him for any physical contact, so he had to simply stare at them, and hate himself for being the cause. no matter what he’d said that day, how many times he promised you that everything would be okay, it clearly hadn’t made a difference. you didn’t come back after that. you stopped answering his calls, and eventually changed your number. twice. you visited him twice in the first month of his incarceration, but after that? you disappeared. no goodbyes, no reason. of course, he always asked about you. Birdy had a way of finding out about people, keeping tabs, but you knew that as well as he did. apparently, you’d pulled a gun on Birdy when she approached you in the parking lot of a grocery store, told her to stay away from you.

hazel eyes catch a glimpse of you walking by the window, a bundle of fabric in your arms, and Michael frowns, reaching for the car door.

“Mikey,” Jimmy warns, gripping his shoulder tighter, “We’ve had a few too many, haven’t we? This is a bad idea.”

“I have to see her,” Michael’s face screws up in determination, “I have to know why.”

“I told you why.” Jimmy insists, wanting desperately to simply drive off with his lovesick brother in the passenger seat, but he was already halfway out. “She didn’t want this life anymore.”

“Yeah, I’d like to hear it from her. I won’t be long.”

another heavy sigh when Michael shakes free of his brother’s grip, and Jimmy gets out, too, but hangs back. “Do you want me to come with ya?” he asks, half joking, “I don’t think she likes me very much anymore, but—“

Michael scoffs, halfway up the drive, he shoves his hands in his pockets and calls over his shoulder. “She never liked you.” he hears a faint fair enough from behind him before he stumbles up on to the porch. his vision was doubled; drinking had been a mistake, he knew that, but when you didn’t show up to his welcome home party, he’d hit the bottle and hadn’t stopped for two whole days. it was now mid afternoon, and he was still wasted.

if he had been sober, he might’ve hesitated at the door. his brain might’ve swirled with the anxiety and excitement of seeing you again after so long, but copious amounts of alcoholic saturation has flooded all concern from his mind, and he hits the door three times with a flat palm. after a second and a half with no answer, he wavers on unsteady legs, wobbling over to the window to peek inside.

there’s a small figure seated on the floor with a plate in front of it; a child watching cartoons with his lunch, Michael assumed. his brows furrow as he tries to force himself to focus, to see the child more clearly, but just as he does, the door opens.

when he turns back to look at you, his breath catches in his throat, eyes wide. he smiles, stepping back towards you, “Hey—“ but the happiness is all but wiped from his countenance when you take a step back at his advance, half hiding behind the door. were you… were you scared of him? “You look…” he didn’t really have the words he was looking for. beautiful wouldn’t cut it. it was the first time he’d seen you in nearly ten years, and it was like every day since then you had only become more and more stunning. he wanted to grab you, right then and there, and kiss you so hard that it would make both of your heads spin.

“What are you doing here?”

his eyes fall to the bundle in your arms, cradled close to your heart, and he realizes it’s a baby. a newborn with big eyes the same tint as yours. his heart hurts; gaze scraping over the wedding band on your finger. “I…” he was caught off guard, and suddenly, he didn’t know what to say. should he turn around and walk away right now? no, no he couldn’t. “I just got out a couple of days ago.” he offers, as if you don’t already know.

but you nod, and say nothing, eyes avoiding his own desperate ones, and it’s painfully clear you were aware.

“Family threw me a party.” he offers yet another crumb, unsure of why he was sharing. you would already know this, too. you knew the Kinsellas, more intimately than anyone else.

“Michael—“

“You didn’t show up.”

you sigh, gently patting the newborn in your arms, and you look him up and down. what could you say to him? “I’ve kind of got my own shit going on now.” you reply, gesturing to the bundle in your arms, chewing on your bottom lip. “You shouldn’t be here.” you hold your son carefully with one hand, using the other to press against the door.

his foot jams itself against the door as he presses himself against it, and now that he’s closer, you can smell the booze on him. he reeks of it, as if alcohol oozes from his pores. “Wait,” he murmurs, closer now but keeping his voice down, eyes flickering to the baby, “please. I just wanted to see you again.” you’re drunk. it’s what you should’ve said. and then, you should’ve closed the door in his face. but you can’t bring yourself to do that. you made the mistake of looking into his eyes, feeling yourself drawn in by those hazel oceans, and suddenly, you felt like you were nineteen again. when Michael Kinsella was the only thing that mattered. “Can we talk?”

say no. your mind begged it of you. few ideas had been more terrible than letting him into your home, but he looked so pitiful, standing there with wet eyes and a permafrown. and the truth was, it worried you, seeing him drunk like this. teeth sinking into your lower lip, you ponder the question for a moment, before calling over your shoulder. “Kieran, honey, take your lunch to your room, okay?”

the little boy in front of the television perks up at the call of his name, grabbing the plate with a nod. “Okay, ma!” he replies, oblivious, already skipping down the hall to his bedroom.

once he’s clear of the living room, you sigh, and pull the door open a little more, nodding inside for him to come in. “Just for a few minutes.”

Michael nods, quickly ducking inside, and you feel a knot of pure anxiety in your gut. you never expected Michael Kinsella to be standing in your living room. he looks around it, examining each scattered toy on the floor as he steps around it and, eventually, sat on the edge of the sofa. you follow behind him, picking up the toys and tossing them into the box by the tv, before turning the cartoons off. you could feel Carter stirring in your arms, somewhere between sleeping and awake, and you cradle him closer to your chest.

“Little ones, huh?” you could tell he was forcing a smile; you could always tell with Michael. “How many do ya have?”

you hesitate, but figure there was no sense in lying. “Three boys.”

Michael nods, somewhat awkward, and his eyes keep lingering on you holding Carter. you almost want to hide with the baby, disappear, you could feel his thoughts before he even spoke them, they hang in the air like a dense chill.

“Husband?”

you pause, feeling a pang of guilt. why? why did you feel so guilty when you did nothing wrong. it was him. Michael chose to break the law, he chose to go to prison, to drive an iron wedge into your relationship for a decade. why did you feel guilty for carrying on with your life, while his sat still? you nod after a moment, eyes dropping to your baby.

“And you couldn’t even tell me.” Michael scoffs, averting his gaze with an incredulous shake of his head, and you were humiliated. his lips work into a grimace, glaring at the wall. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Or were you fucking him the whole time just waiting on me to go away—“

your eyes widen, countenance snapping up, indignant. “What?” you demand. surely, you must have heard him wrong.

Michael drops his forearms on to his knees, closing his eyes as his head hangs forward, the way he did when you and him used to argue. it infuriated you to see him like that now. “What?” you ask again, this time louder. Carter whines in your arms and you give him a gentle rock.

“Were you fucking some guy behind my back?” he asks, louder too, and you purse your lips together to shush him before he disturbs your baby even more. he hesitates, lowering his voice as he looks up at you. “Was it just perfect timing when I got locked up?”

“No,” you snarl, staring daggers into him from where you stood. if you hadn’t been holding Carter, there was a chance you would’ve leapt over and smacked that grimace look off his stupid face. “And fuck you, by the way, for even thinking that.” you added, eyes darting up and down the length of him. you lull your baby in your arms, chewing on the delicate skin of your lower lip. “I’ve never cheated on you. Not ever.”

“So then, why?” Michael barks in a husky whisper. maybe it was fragile from the way he held back tears, or maybe it was raw with anger, you couldn’t be sure. “Why didn’t you visit? Tell me anything at all? You just fuckin’ vanished, like a ghost. Don’t you fuckin’ understand that?”

“Yes.” affronted, you look down at your baby, sullen. you just want him to stop before it turns into a fight, and as soon as he paused to take a breath, you’d tell him to get the fuck out of your house.

“Do you? I mourned you. Like you were dead. Because you fuckin’ were to me.”

it stings, deep down in the depths of your soul where you buried all of the love you held for Michael Kinsella. “I get it,” you speak up, swallowing hard around a painful lump in your throat. “I get it and I’m sorry. But you don’t know what it’s like—“

“Then tell me.” Michael throws his hands up, sitting up straighter. they fall, palms flat, and smack against his thighs. “Tell me what it’s like.” his baritone is a little more strained as his voice gets louder. you frown, and take a step back from him, your brows knitting together. “Tell me just how hard it was for you that I was in prison, getting the shit kicked out of me, fighting for my life every single fuckin’ say and I didn’t even have the woman I loved to give me a reason to open my eyes every morning?”

you open your mouth to speak, but the sound of little feet coming down the hall spurs you to step into the doorway, block it from Michael’s view just as your eldest rounds the corner, bumping into you as he does so. “Ma?” his voice sounds small… afraid. a tone you swore you’d never hear from him.

Rowan. you just didn’t want Michael to see him. “It’s okay, baby,” you mutter, but Michael’s gaze falls to your hip, where his spitting image peeks out from behind you. dammit. “Go back to your room and close the door.”

“But ma—“

“Now. Please.” you beg of him, petting his mop of messy dark hair.

Michael stares, shocked, into the familiar hazel gems the boy has, jumping to his feet as he disappears down the hall. “How old is that kid?” he asks, taking a step closer.

you bite your lip, refusing to budge from blocking the hallway. “Michael, don’t.”

“How old is he?”

but you didn’t have to answer, because Michael could see the resemblance, even when you’d tried to obstruct the glance. hell, anyone could. the kid couldn’t be younger than seven, no older than eight.

“Is he…?”

“No.”

but Michael could see on your face that it was a lie. he walks towards the hall where his young clone disappeared on uncertain legs, feeling as though he’s being thrown about in a chaotic sea, but you hold a hand out to press against his chest, to stop him. he looks down at it, frowning. “You knew before I went inside.” he mutters, realization hitting him harder than a tidal wave. “And you didn’t tell me.”

your fingers twitch and quiver against the expanse of his chest, the urge to caress it returning to your muscles with a fierce vengeance, but you resist. you lower your voice to a faint whisper. “Three days before.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve—“

“What?” blinking tears back, your brow arches, almost as a challenge. “What could you have done, Michael? Raised a baby from prison? You grew up like that, and look at yourself.” shaking your head, you look at him, resolved. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want a Kinsella. I didn’t want him to be raised like a Kinsella. I owed him that much, at least.”

could he really blame you? no, but he wanted to. Michael’s wet eyes, glassy from booze and on the brink of crying, look up to your face, and you want to break down, too. “That’s my kid,” he whispers, “call him out here. Let me meet him, at least.”

you shake your head, “No, he doesn’t know— Michael, it would only confuse him.”

“He doesn’t know?” Michael’s perplexed, maybe suspicious.

“He knows he has a different da than Carter and Kieran, but he… thinks his is dead.”

“Dead?” he asks, angrily, and you take another step back, bumping into the wall, nodding. “My own son thinks I’m fuckin’ dead? You chose to tell him that over the truth?” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. it was like you were a completely different person. the old you would’ve never hurt him like this.

you’re ashamed, feeling guilt gutting you, but you nod. “You made your choice, so I made mine.”

hazel eyes narrow, “Your choice? That’s my fuckin’ son in there, too.” his voice was louder now, reverberating in the small hallway, and you flinch. “Let me see my son.”

“I can’t—“ your voice was still barely audible, hugging Carter close to your chest and away from Michael, but tears glistened on your cheeks as they fell.

“Why? Why the fuck not?”

“Michael, keep your fucking voice down.” you hide out a warning. Carter was beginning to get fussy in your arms.

“He’s mine, I deserve to see him—“ the back of his hand pushes at your shoulder, trying to urge you out of the way, but you swat it away, stepping directly in front of him.

“You need to go.”

but something inside Michael snapped. was it the alcohol boiling his blood, or your betrayal, or the fact that some other man was living the life he wanted to build with you? perhaps all three, because he grips both of your shoulders with cruel fists and pushes your back into the wall. “You can’t keep him from me.” he growls, glaring into your now frightened gaze. you let out a little whimper, and the baby in your arms wails. it’s only then did he realize what he’d done, and he jerks his hands back. “Wait, wait…” he hadn’t meant to hurt you, and maybe he hadn’t. maybe the push wasn’t hard enough to do any physical damage, but you were terrified; he knew that look. he loathed that look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t…”

all you can do is stare at the man you used to love. still loved? “This is why you’ll never see him!” you holler finally, shielding Carter from him. you felt your whole world fall apart as soon as he grabbed you, and you were stumbling over the pieces. “Because you— you’re a monster, Michael Kinsella. You destroy everything you touch, you nearly destroyed me. I won’t let you destroy Rowan.”

“I’m sorry!” as if that could be the fix all, he stumbles back, refusing to look at his own hands. how could he? he feels sick to his stomach, again. that same, ill feeling that he had sinking in his gut during your last visit.

“Just get out of here. Please leave.”

he does. you’re grateful, but feel as though you’re losing him all over again. that wasn’t true, though, you lost him eight years ago, and had never gotten him back. so why? why did it hurt so much to see him crying as he sprinted out the door, to hear the car doors slam and the tires squeal as they sped off?

“Ma!” it was both Rowan and Kieran from the other side of the bedroom door. Kieran was sobbing, hitting his little fist on it. you felt dizzy from overstimulation, and your free hand reaches out to steady yourself on the wall, sliding down it to collapse in a sobbing heap on the floor. Carter was screaming in your arms, so you shush him through your own, garbled crying, pressing your lips to his soft forehead.

#michael kinsella #michael Kinsella x reader #michael Kinsella x you #michael Kinsella angst #kin #kin amc #charlie cox x you #charlie cox x reader #Charlie cox angst #charlie cox imagine #charlie cox

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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years

Text

i don’t wanna do this (i don’t wanna lose this)

eighteen plus blog minors dni

summary -> it’s all fake, every piece of it scripted and perfected for the camera, even the upcoming break-up you pretend doesn’t break your heart.

words -> 2.5k

warnings -> fake relationship, use of name (bucky calls the reader by her character’s name, lucia, once) nickname uses (baby, sweetheart) co-workers/friends to lovers, no smut, not beta’d

notes -> this is for the lovely maera’s ( @ambrosiase ) hotel indigo writing challenge i absolutely love this idea mae and am so appreciative that you created this challenge, it really pushed me out of my comfort zone and i got to explore an entirely new au.

room & service -> business meets pleasure with celebrity bucky barnes -> bucky and reader are co-stars in a fake relationship in a hotel for their final comic-con together.

— ➶ —

Bucky has been doing interviews with Sam all day today.

You’ve been working together for six seasons and have both been to too many comic-cons to count. Every single one of them you and Bucky had been paired up to do interviews and photo-ops together.

A scripted piece of a scripted relationship. Agreed upon when your characters romance began to pick up popularity and designed to look perfect until the end.

Tomorrow an article with be released ‘leaking’ the details of your perfect break-up too. A source close to the both of you will comment that wrapping of the show and being forced to go long distance just wasn’t working for you two. The writer will supply photos of today, the two of you avoiding sitting near one another and not speaking. They’ll write that their source confirmed this convention is actually the first time you’ve seen each other in months.

Even more articles have already been planted periodically questioning whether the two of you were still together, generating buzz around the show and what happens between your characters. It’s a brilliant job, honestly.

Except, you and Bucky had been in a fake relationship for so long, it had begun to feel real. This distance between you two felt purposeful in a way that hurt you more than it ever should have.

Your assistant is supposed to go through your instagram soon and begin archiving posts and pieces of your fake life with Bucky. He’s been glaringly absent from your social media recently and it makes your heart ache at the idea of him being nonexistent.

Your fans have noticed too. You read comment after comment all asking the same thing; What happened to you and Bucky?

“Oh, Lucia! My dear, Lucia.” You bite down a grin at the sound of Bucky’s voice through your door. His words were filtered by the wall between you and a little slurred from the drinks he had no doubt consumed at the hotel bar. “Open the door, please.”

You lock your phone and lay it on the bed beside you. “I’m busy, Bucky! Go bother Sam.” You call back despite already walking towards the door.

“Bother Sam? On our last night together?” You can see Bucky smile teasingly though the peephole. Despite his joking tone the words hurt. “Four years together and this is how things end? Through a hotel room door?”

His fist comes up to bang against the door and a hand comes up to his heart. He’s putting on a show for you, fully away of your eye watching carefully through the peephole. “How much have you had to drink, Bucky Barnes?” You ask as the door remains closed.

Bucky holds his fingers up in a pinch too small to be true. “Not much.” When his hand falls back to his side he smiles up at the peephole. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”

You melt, becoming putty in his hand as you quickly move to unlatch the door. “I’ve missed you too.” You admit to him, face to face, as you lean against the door jam.

A smirk replaces Bucky’s sweet smile as his hands reach out to grip your hips. “This break-up is tough on me, baby.” He pushes you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. “One more night. One last time. You and me.”

“Shut up!” You force his hands off of you and turn towards the mini bar in your room. “You’re such a dweeb. I’m glad we’re breaking up.” You pull out the miniature bottle of wine and twist the top off.

Bucky’s hand slams across his chest as he falls against the wall in dramatic fashion. “You’re… Glad? My frail heart can’t take it,” he falls to his knees, “Please. Tell my mother, I loved her.”

You watch, unamused, as Bucky falls to the floor in front of you. “You’re obnoxious.” A beaming smile breaks out onto Bucky’s face that makes you grin.

“I was serious, about missing you.” Bucky moves to sit up with his back against the edge of your bed. You move to sit beside him on the floor. “These junkets and photos just aren’t the same without you by my side, cracking jokes in my ear.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “Me too. I love Wanda, but it’s just not the same.” You admit quietly.

There’s so much that you want to say to him. What if this wasn’t fake? What if we didn’t go through with the break-up plan? “Did they send you our social media plan?” Bucky asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You swallow thickly, “I have my assistant going through my account for me soon. We’re supposed to start untagging and deleting photos of each other this week.”

Bucky snorts. “How fucking sweet. Four years together and they have us untag each other to confirm a break up.” His fingers tap against his thigh as the two of you sit on the carpeted floor together.

“Has it really been four years?” You ask quietly. It’s more of a question to yourself, but Bucky answers it with a nod anyways.

“My longest relationship ever and it was fake.” Bucky’s awkward laugh makes the air tense as he stares down at his hands. “I’ve wasted so much of my life. So many chances gone.”

You know the words aren’t said with ill intent, but that doesn’t stop the crack from forming in your heart. You can’t fathom the idea of all your time together, fake or not, being a waste.

Your eyes cut away from him in embarrassment. “Was it really all a waste?” You ask quietly. The words are unintentional, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re out in the air.

“What?” You can feel his eyes settle on you in an attempt to read your face or body language, but a career in acting comes in handy. Your back is ramrod straight and your face turned away perfectly to hide the emotions in your eyes. “It was fake when we could have had something real with people we actually cared about.”

It’s a knife to your broken heart. “People we actually care about?”

“You know, like, other girls and guys who we wanted to pursue but couldn’t because of the contract.” Bucky reaches out to wrap a hand around yours, but you pull away. “I don’t understand what’s wrong here.”

You shake your head, the regret of your words settling over you. “Nothing. I’m just… It’s been a long day.” You use the edge of the bed to help you stand while Bucky remains on the floor, watching you in confusion. “I’m tired, you should go.”

“Woah. What’s this one-eighty?” Bucky stands too and follows you as you move around to gather your toothbrush and skincare. “Two seconds ago we were joking about a fake break-up and now you’re all quiet and weird? You expect me to just leave?”

“Please.” You plead. The last thing you want to do is dump all your feelings out to Bucky, on the last day you two were officially contracted to each other, and make him feel guilty for feeling free. “I just need to be alone, Buck.”

You move to push past him towards your bathroom, but Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t do this closing yourself off thing.”

“I’m not.” You say stubbornly. “I’m tired.” You try again to move past him, but his grip only tightens as he forces you to actually face him. “Buck-“

“You can tell me, you know?” He says quietly as his grip slackens. Your eyes meet his, pools of blue staring back at you with something akin to hurt. “You can trust me. We’re best friends, right? You’re my-“

“You don’t have to lie to me, Bucky. Pretend to care. You can go back to the bar and…” You pull your hand from him and cross your arms over your chest. “And tomorrow we can start being with people we actually care about.”

Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut as his own words are repeated back and left out in the open between you two. “That’s not what I…”

“What did you mean then?” You cut him off. You want to sound angry, but your tone is sad and tired. “Enlighten me, please.”

“I just meant… I meant we could date who we wanted to date, I didn’t mean for it to sound so awful.” He answers quietly. “I care about you a lot. We’ve been friends for over half a decade, of course I care about you.”

You swallow thickly. “What if I don’t want to date anyone else?” You force yourself to ask. If not now, then when? Ten years from now at a reunion of your show? You couldn’t live with this what if.

“What?” Bucky’s hand falls from your wrist as he takes a step back like your words have burned him.

You push through the thundering of your heart and ringing in your ears to ask, “haven’t you ever thought about it? I mean, four years of just us, all those dates and premieres, was it really all just work for you?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” Bucky rubs a hand over his jaw as you stare at him expectantly. “Have you?”

“I asked the question I think that would imply…” You trail off as his answer weighs down on your mind. It feels like a no. No. No. No. It’s on repeat in your mind as you move to sit down on your bed. “After a while the dates and photos and sappy posts didn’t feel all that forced anymore.” You admit quietly.

Bucky paces silently in front of you. You’re unsure of what’s going through his mind as he does it and it’s all you can do to not tap anxiously as you watch.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He finally asks when he finally pauses in front of you. You look up at him unsure of what to say. “I mean… When did you start…” He trails off like he doesn’t want the answer.

You look down at your hands in your lap. Despite your worries in telling Bucky you guess you had never truly thought of this conversation ending up this way. All these questions felt like Bucky preparing for a gentle rejection.

“I don’t know. After our second anniversary?” You keep your answer to him vague despite you being fully aware of when you started seeing Bucky differently. “That post you wrote for me that day. All the ones after. All of those words were fake?”

Your mind drifts to his words that day. The sweet and short caption had made butterflies erupt as you scrolled through the photos he had posted with it. Despite you both being required to post something, the photos he had chosen had been entirely genuine.

Pictures the two of you had taken together on set, selfies during your fake dates, and even a sweet set of photo booth pictures from your first premiere together.

You had stared at the post far too long as emotions rushed through you. Your heart raced at the idea of Bucky taking his time to pick photos that meant something to the both of you.

“I think that..” You shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the painful reminders. “I think you should go.” You stand up suddenly, your hands pushing gently at his chest.

Bucky’s eyes widen as his hands come up grip your arms in an attempt to stop you. “Woah. Let’s talk about this. I’m just trying to figure everything out.”

“Figure it out? What is there to figure out, Bucky?” You cry out, shoving harder. “If you don’t know how you feel then you should figure it out on your own.” You move past him to open the door.

Bucky follows after you hastily. “Sweetheart, wait, please. I just need a moment.” You grip his forearms tightly using Bucky’s own momentum against him as you guide him to the hallway outside your room. “I wasn’t expecting this. We have articles and photos and interviews planned about a break-up tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Bucky.” The two of you are back where your night began. Opposite sides of the door as you stare, unsure of what to say. “Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? The article will be published and we’ll confirm it and life will move on.”

The door slams shut in his face without warning, not giving him a chance to say anything else. You stare blankly at the ugly, green shade its painted in silence as you remind yourself; It was all fake. A script you had been given and followed to a tee. One you had gotten too caught up in.

You’re feelings don’t change the ending.

There’s a slow knock on your door. You suck in a breath as you move to open it an apology on the tip of your tongue.

“Bucky.” You’re cut off as his hands come up to rest on your cheeks and he pulls you towards him. Anything you had to say dissipates as his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss.

Your hands come up to grip his t-shirt tightly as you kiss him back your tongue slipping into his mouth while he pulls you flush against his body.

An arm wraps around your waist and Bucky pushes you back into your room, his foot kicking your door closed harshly.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you finally pull away to look at Bucky, but he speaks before you can say anything.

“Of course I’ve thought about it.” He breathes out. His eyes are wide with nerves and his cheeks flushed red. The sight of it mixed with his kiss makes your heart pound. “I’ve thought about kissing you for real, not in a room filled with crew and cameras. About what it would be like to be on a date where paparazzi hasn’t been tipped off. Baby,” his hands rest on your cheeks again as he forces your eyes to meet his, “I’ve thought about it all. What it would be like to be with you, to really be with you in every way. Sometimes it’s all I think about when we’re together.”

You take pause, your eyes widening and hands freezing in place as you listen to what he’s saying. “Why didn’t you say anything then? Why’d you just pace and ask me all those questions?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” He smiles brightly when you giggle. “Because I couldn’t believe you actually felt the same way. I was in shock.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

You smile up at him softly. “What do we do about the article tomorrow?” You whisper your question.

You feel giddy with excitement as Bucky’s hands land on your hips to hold you in place, flush against him. “We deny it.”

“What about our managers?” Your smile doesn’t fade even as stress over the situation arises. “And…And our separate interviews tomorrow?”

“What are they gonna do? Fire us?” Bucky smiles. “We’ll tell them all about how in love we still are. That the source in the article was a dud and we’ve just been private recently as the show wraps.”

“We will?” You ask quietly. Your heart racing at his words. “You want to say all that?”

Bucky nods his head. “I do.”

You don’t say anything else he leans in for another kiss, you could worry tomorrow.

Bonus -> The Next Day

liked by buckybarnes, samwilson and 134,759 others

yourinstagram the final season of our show premieres this weekend and we’re so excited for you all to see how it ends. the first photo is from tonight and the second from our first season! the past six years has brought me so much joy and i’m so grateful for everything this show has given me. most importantly though, i’m thankful for you, bucky barnes. my adrian to my lucia. my best friend. my lover. thanks for making this show so fun.

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samwilson we made a great show. love you guys.

buckyfan thought y’all were a pr stunt lmao

yourinstagram apparently you’re not supposed to really fall in love for those to work…

buckybarnes i am most grateful for you. you made work worth it every god damn day.

yourfan my favorite couple on and off the screen.

— ➶ —

notes -> this is my first ever time joining a writing challenge, it really pushed me to work through block and focus on this instead of letting is die out like i have with other projects despite liking them so much!

(hoping you guys don’t hate the extra instagram idea, i just felt it fit in!)

hopefully you enjoyed and if you did, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#the hotel indigo writing challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader

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jungkxook · 4 years

Text

—stay. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: popstar!jungkook x groupie!reader + smut / sprinkle of angst and fluff

⟶ words: 8,083

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.

⟶ warnings: multiple smut scenes, slight dom themes, oral sex, finger sucking oops, boob fondling, hair pulling ft. jungkook’s undercut, doggy style, missionary, thigh riding, spitting, jealous kook!!, unprotected sex, kind of slight possessive themes? but also just general sweetness tbh

⟶ disclaimer: my time jungkook still has me in my feels! also, this is a repost of an old fic on an old blog.

“Stay with me?”

Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. It’s just that, lying there with you on the hotel room bed, there’s no other place he’d rather be ━ and there’s no one else he’d rather experience the moment with than you. Legs tangled together on top of the duvet with your fingers tracing circles onto his bare chest, Jungkook swears he’s in love with you ━ only, you’re not his to have.

“I have to go,” You pout, though your fingers continue drawing constellations on his skin, treading down his arm and over the tattoos that adorn him. You’re focusing now on the lily on his forearm, around and around, sending his head spiralling. “Promised my friends we could hang out today. Besides, don’t you have Mina or Nina━” You wave your hand in the air to dismiss the thought━ “coming over soon?”

“Who?” It takes him a moment to even remember who you’re talking about. Truthfully, he hasn’t seen that girl in well over six months but he’d never tell you that. In fact, he hasn’t been seeing anyone else other than you but he would definitely never tell you that. “Oh, yeah. Well, I think she’s coming over later tonight.”

“Well━” You trail off, and Jungkook knows it’s because you’re stalling. You want to stay, and he knows it well enough, but every question you ask him is just meant to further reassure you that it’s okay if you stay. That he wants you to. “Aren’t you busy with work today before the second show?”

Jungkook shrugs. “We still have lots of time before the day starts.”

You shake your head at him but he knows he ultimately wins out when you start to smile to yourself. You prop yourself up beside him and he has to admire momentarily how you’ve never been timid in front of him when you’re naked. His hand reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek and you smile down at him. But then something seems to dawn on him that he can’t believe he foolishly hadn’t thought of first.

“Unless… Unless you need to see one of them soon.”

“Who?”

“Taehyung or Namjoon.” It takes all he can muster to say their names without a trace of bitterness. He lifts himself up on his elbow. “Are you still seeing them?”

You shrug innocently. Sitting up a little straighter, you brush his hand away and fidget with your hair. “Would it matter if I was?”

Yes, he wants to scream but he refrains. “No. I just━” he stops. “Just curious. Is that what you meant by work then? You have to go see Tae or something right after me? ”

“No, you prick.” He’s relieved you giggle at him, fingers poking at his chest despite the fact that he was mentally cursing himself for being a dick the minute the words left his mouth. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of sex. Friends, too.”

“I know, I know,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I━ I know. You said you wanted to go shopping downtown before the show tonight, right? One of your friends ━ Dahyun ━ goes to school in the next city over and she’s taking the day off to see you. I do listen when you talk, y’know?”

He doesn’t miss the warm smile that spreads across your face. You finally return to him, kissing him slow and steadily. In the meantime, he flips you over onto your back and then parts from you much to your dismay. He’s nestled himself between your legs in an instant, kissing up your thigh and sending shivers down your spin. Your hand flies down to twine your fingers in his hair, now much longer than usual.

“I guess I could stay a little longer, if you’d want me to,” You say.

“I do.”

He wastes no time in swiping his tongue at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. You’re already mewling with delight. That’s all it ever is with the two of you. Sex and more sex. And while Jungkook isn’t complaining, he sure does wish he could just have more of you. Jungkook burrows a little deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out.

“Morning sex does sound nice,” You manage to say, breath shaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps against you. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Your thighs are already threatening to squeeze shut around his head, fingers tightening in their hold. His own hands find purchase on your waist, stretching outward to hold on to you, and nothing can break you both apart. Not even the muffled sound of rapid knocking on the front door of the too grand hotel room. At least, not the first two times. On the third time when it’s followed by the sound of Jungkook’s manager irritably calling out through the flimsy wood panel, does Jungkook groan into your cunt and poke his head upward, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as his manager’s voice carries infuriatingly loudly to you both once again.

“Get up already, will you? We’ve got several business meetings to conduct today and we haven’t got time for you to sleep off a hangover or whatever it is you’re doing━”

“Gimme ‘til noon!” Jungkook asserts gruffly. He settles himself back between your thighs, and you surely don’t miss the devious way he smirks just before burrowing his head into your heat. There’s an inaudible sound that he makes, that you and certainly his manager can distinguish as being, “I’m too busy right now.”

Busy is an understatement, pointedly made clear when his tongue delves into you, lapping at your leaking wetness as if he were terribly quenched and only you could save him. You don’t think Jungkook taking his morning to eat you out is a good enough excuse that will run over well with his manager later in the day, but it drives him away for now with only a grumbled chorus of words left in his wake. But the silence only lasts for so long. Just as Jungkook is getting comfortable once more, you speak up.

“I don’t think tardiness is a very good quality to have as a celebrity,” You ponder aloud through a heavily pleased sigh.

“Ah, or it’s exactly the thing I need,” he counters with a shit-eating grin. “Being late is a very celebrity thing, isn’t it?”

“When the fame gets to their head,” You snort. Your voice splinters off into a whimper as he tilts his chin up a little higher, lapping deeper into you.

“Then I guess I’m bad.” His voice murmurs against you, rattling you to the bone.

“You’re definitely far from bad. Everyone thinks you’re an angel.”

“Wonder if they’d think the same thing if they saw me now━” He pinches lightly at the inside of your thigh, “head between your legs, and you coming on my tongue.”

You roll your eyes, but your wittiness falls short when he tugs with his teeth at your folds. Your back arches off the bed at once, hips pressing harder against his face.

“Namjoon called last night,” You say. No, you don’t say it. You moan it and even though Jungkook knows it’s because of him and how he’s making you feel in that moment, he still hates hearing someone else’s name roll off the tip of your tongue that isn’t his. “If you must know. Said he wanted to see me in the morning━”

Jungkook grimaces. He grunts shortly, “Guess you’re gonna have to let him down.”

“I’m sure Joon will love that━”

“Don’t,” he hisses. He bites down a little harshly on the inside of your thigh but you don’t mind. When he glances up to look at you, his stare is dark and hooded. “Don’t say their names. Not now. Please.”

You almost miss the desperation in his voice, the way he almost whines his words. You don’t ask, even though you’re curious. You don’t ask, even when he eats you out that morning until he’s made sure you’re crying his name and nothing else. You don’t ask, even when fucks you slow and deep and measured and almost, dare you say, loving like he never has before, clinging onto you as if he can’t live without you. You don’t ask, even when he may get a little rough (just how you like it), as if he’s afraid you’ll leave him right then and there. You don’t even ask when he sucks not one but two hickeys on your neck, large enough for anyone to see. For Taehyung and Namjoon to see.

You never really do ask, even though you notice things have become different.

It’s not as if you haven’t always been close to one another. There are more times than not in which you both physically can’t keep your hands off of one another in public, though in the safest and simplest ways possible. It’s there, in the way you sit next to him with your legs crossed regally on the couch in the green room backstage before a set, playing with the rings on his fingers on the hand resting on your shoulder; there, in the way you sit draped across his lap, leaning into his chest, in the studio as they blur through recordings. When you give advice on composing or lyric writing, Jungkook listens. When you giggle into his ear and whisper lewd things when you probably shouldn’t in the middle of a party with important business men and other celebrities, Jungkook is captivated.

It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you, but he always knew there was something about you he just could not get enough of. You had chosen him first, approaching him late one night at a bar, and he was instantly head-over-heels. Even if it was mutually agreed upon ━ and oftentimes never really outwardly mentioned ━ that you could sleep around with him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, then Jungkook would have to deal with it. He would do anything, if it meant getting to see you more. At first he didn’t even mind. What was one more groupie to the ever growing list he had already accumulated? He’s never gotten feelings for any of them, so surely he thought he would be okay with you; that maybe whatever he was feeling for you would go away.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After he asks you the question the first time, he finds himself stuck in a greedy months-long habit of asking you wistfully every time he finds you in his bed. He asks it a thousand and one times, but only ever gets one response from you. You’ll say no, that you have to leave, and sometimes you will. But sometimes ━ sometimes when he knows he wins out because he knows you let your guard down long enough to become besotted by him, a tangible mess with his every touch ━ you’ll linger just a little longer and the notion alone is enough to instill a sense of hope in Jungkook even if he knows it’s wrong.

And maybe you shouldn’t play along. Then again, he takes all your time and you devote what little you have left afterward to him anyway, pretending that you’re still seeing Taehyung and Namjoon when you’re certainly not.

Sometimes Jungkook catches you when he doesn’t mean to, or isn’t expecting to, and it’s all different moments that physically pain him. Sometimes those moments come from paying one of the guys a visit and stumbling upon you there, too.

After having not seen you for the whole day, and just before the concert begins, Jungkook is called over to Namjoon’s room within the hotel to discuss some last minute changes to the show (which Jungkook’s positive he would have heard about if he hadn’t ignored his manager early in the morning). Only Namjoon doesn’t answer the door when Jungkook arrives. There’s a crescendo of giggling on the other side of the threshold and then it’s you, and you’re standing there wearing nothing but a baggy shirt of Namjoon’s that barely covers your bum (and shorts too, he thinks, but Jungkook’s much too focused now on you in Namjoon’s shirt). Namjoon’s standing a bit further back, leaning against the wall of the hallway without a shirt on and he’s grinning at something that’s just happened.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon calls out. “Come in, we’ll get started. I’ll just be right back━ Just hopped out of the shower━” And then he disappears into another room, most likely to find another shirt that isn’t taken by you.

“Jungkook!” You greet him so cheerfully, as if the sight of you half naked in another man’s home isn’t eating away at Jungkook. You pull him into a hug that’s so tight he can smell your familiar perfume and probably Namjoon’s lingering scent if he focuses hard enough. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook says. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so standoffish. He hopes you don’t notice. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah. The girls had to leave but that’s okay.” You’re smiling so bright and wide that it almost hurts. “Namjoon━”

“Wanted to see you?” Jungkook finishes for you, remembering your words earlier in the day.

“Yeah━” You’re rambling on now but Jungkook isn’t listening. The pain is still lingering and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows it isn’t right but he can’t be bothered to care. In that moment, he realizes he’d rather be anywhere but there and he’s never felt that way before.

“Uh━ You know what?” He cringes slightly when he interrupts you. “Forgot I had to do something actually. Mina called earlier ━ said she wanted to talk or whatever.”

Your face immediately drops at the mention of the other girl and it pains him even more to know that you don’t see through his blatant lie. What’s worse is that Mina had called him the night before, but he had turned her down promptly before she could even say what she wanted.

You glance over your shoulder fleetingly as if to look for Namjoon, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip. “But I thought you needed to talk with Joon about the show?”

“Can’t, sorry. Tell Namjoon he can do whatever he wants. I don’t care. Seems like he’s got his hands full with you here anyway.”

He hates himself for it ━ he hates how petty he can be, how rude he can sound without truly meaning it ━ but before he can explain himself or apologize in a way that would probably make him look even more like an idiot, he turns his back to you. It’s the first time he’s really ever done something like that. Usually, he puts up with it ━ with you draped over Namjoon’s lap or Taehyung’s hand on your waist because usually he hadn’t always had feelings for you.

Truth be told, Jungkook doesn’t know how Namjoon or Taehyung feel about “sharing” you. He doesn’t even know how you feel about it or if you’ve noticed Jungkook’s short temper lately. He tries to contain it but he can’t and he hates how he’s become when he’s not alone with you. Lately, he’s started to think that maybe this isn’t right anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t keep meeting up with you if he’s going to feel this way all the time, and it wasn’t fair to you for him to be sulking so much. He’s not supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be having fun.

After all, that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?

But that night something happens.

Jungkook only notices you half an hour into the show later that night even despite the fact that you’re in the same place that you always are, standing on the side in the part of the pit closest to the stage where only family and close friends are allowed to stay. Of course you’re dancing along, just like you always do, and of course you’re watching him and the rest of the boys with starry eyes, just how he loves. You smiled wide at some point when his gaze locked with yours ━ him, drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, and you, face-flushed and looking as if you’re having the time of your life.

But that’s the thing about you ━ you’re not like the others. Sure, your eyes tend to drift to him more often than not and linger on him longer than necessary but you don’t just come for him. You live for the music, admire the rest of the boys that have treated him so dearly and make the group what it is.

And the way he performs ━ you wonder if he purposely exerts himself more because he wants you to only focus on him. Every rough thrust of his hips, every time he grabs at his crotch, dark and hooded eyes meets yours and you know he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make you suffer.

Later, when the concert is finished and you’re at a private room in a club with the boys to celebrate the evening and Jungkook has had one too many shots, he finds you at the bar. He sidles up from behind you, one palm sliding onto the small of your back. You know it’s him even before you look, judging by the familiar stature of his chest pressing against your body, and his usual scent. His lips press to the crook of your neck and your lips unfurl into a smile. You reach up blindly to grab at the nape of his neck as he starts to sway against you to the beat of the music, hips digging into your ass.

“I’ve been dying to be next to you all night.” He whispers this into the shell of your ear and you wonder vaguely how you’ve maintained enough self-control to not drop to your knees and suck him off then and there. Even worse is the fact that he’s still adorned in the makeup from the concert. Your fingers scratch at one of the newly shaved sides of his head, the rest of his long locks only maintain some of its original style pushed back and off his forehead, though now messily mused as it splays out on either side of his head and threatens to hide the undercut once more.

“You’re drunk,” You point out. He doesn’t seem to register the fact that you only point it out because otherwise, if he wasn’t so smashed, you aren’t quite sure he’d even be touching you the way he is now after the way he’s been acting lately.

“So are you,” Jungkook hums. “Let’s get out of here?”

And you can’t possibly say no.

He thinks it’s a shame, really, because you had looked quite pretty that night wearing a velvet red dress. Because after somehow calling a taxi and stumbling back to his dorm, he gets lost in you for a while and completely ravishes you, impatiently ripping your dress off you and pressing you against the wall, hips eagerly digging into yours until you hook your legs around his hips and he carries you off to bed to finish.

When you’re spent from your first high, Jungkook moves from your sprawled out positions on the bed and gets up, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. You watch him as he combs his hair back that’s fallen into his face again, muscles in his biceps rippling as he does so. He reaches for an acoustic guitar in one corner, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. He’s not usually this quiet after a night spent together, though you don’t quite seem to notice, thinking nothing of it as he starts plucking away at the guitar with a melody in mind if only because when he’s frustrated and stuck on a lyric, he usually goes to you in seek of help in terms of finding relief. You get to your knees, crawling over to him so that you can drape your arms around his shoulders from the back.

“That’s pretty,” You sigh dreamily, nodding to the guitar and the lazy strumming he had been doing. In the distance, you realize there’s been music playing faintly the whole time from the dock where his phone is plugged in. You recognize one of the boys’ songs playing, then realize it’s Jungkook’s solo, his own voice singing beautifully back to you. Above all else, you realize all at once that he isn’t really playing anything at all, or brainstorming a new song, but plucking along absentmindedly to the melody of his own song.

He’s distracted but he tenses at your touch, then relaxes at once, melting instantly against you. “Just messing around,” he sighs.

“Nonsense,” You giggle. He glances over at you just in time to see you reach for his hand, and he watches as you play with the rings on his fingers. “There’s magic in these hands. In more ways than one.”

You press a chilling kiss against his palm, and then the tip of each of his fingers. Time seems to slow, and all he can suddenly focus on is you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” His voice has a dull, stubborn whine to it that he can’t shake. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Once or twice,” You smirk. You busy yourself by focusing on lining the bottom of your palm with his, measuring your hand in his. He’s much bigger than you, his fingers nearly towering over yours and they’re always so snug and warm.

“Well, it’s true,” he says. “You’re the kinda girl songs are written about.”

“Unless I’m mistaken,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you have written songs about me.”

He feigns a look of doubt, though a smile threatens to tug at his mouth, especially when you delicately lace your fingers with his one-by-one. “Ah, is that what you think, baby girl? Don’t let the fame get to your head.”

You laugh, dropping your head and leaning your temple against his knuckles in an attempt to hide your sheepish face. With his free hand, he sets his guitar back onto the floor and then unravels his other hand from yours. His palm is calloused and hot as it slides onto your cheek, and you nuzzle into it even despite him guiding your face back up to look at him. He can’t help himself; he leans in to kiss you, biting at your lower lip and earning a delicious moan. As his hands come to grip at your sides just over your ribs and the underside of your breasts do you crawl into his lap to straddle him. For a while, he lets himself get carried away, feeling your hands roam his chest, but then with such vivid intensity, he can only imagine Namjoon and Taehyung in the same position as him and it almost makes him want to vomit. Either that, or it’s the alcohol. Gathering his wits, he shakes his head, pulling apart from you.

“I think I should write━” He fumbles uselessly with his words. “Namjoon’s gonna kill me if I don’t finish these songs━”

You arch your chest against his, warm and soft and palpable, and your hips dig into his a little more roughly, rubbing against his straining erection. You can be heard whining sluggishly as you kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I want you inside me, Kook.”

His breath hitches in his throat, but he can’t think straight anymore. Is the scent he smelling even you anymore, or just a mix of Namjoon and Taehyung? And when you tell him he’s the only one who can ever make you feel the way he does, do you tell that to them too?

His silence is answer enough, and is what ultimately forces you to look up at him. You’re met with an empty expression, then your own countenance is contorting. You sit back on his lap.

“I don’t understand you anymore, Jungkook,” You say. There it is, he laments to himself. The familiar pang to his chest, the dreaded realization that maybe he’s fucked this whole thing up forever. “It’s like sometimes you can’t get enough of me, touching me here and there and just before shows when you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes, telling me that no one will care if you’re late. Then sometimes it’s like you won’t even look at me. Like you can’t get me off of you fast enough; like you can’t even touch me anymore.”

Jungkook avoids your stare, which he knows is exactly the sort of thing he shouldn’t do. But you already have your answer. You clamber off of his lap at once to slide back onto the bed and he wants nothing more than to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. Now, you seem flustered, or maybe just disheartened. Your arms come to cross over your bare chest, as if to hide yourself.

“You don’t want to touch me anymore,” You say dryly.

It’s not a question so much as it is a statement. Either way, he shakes his head. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, he mumbles, “Maybe you should go.”

You clamp your mouth shut. “You’re not serious, Jungkook.”

He still doesn’t dare to meet your gaze, his jaw set hard in place.

“You’re kicking me out? Now? Now?”

“I’m not. I’m just━ Not in the mood tonight.”

“What a liar,” You gasp. “I had your stupid boner poking my ass the entire time we were at the club, and you sure as hell spent the better part of the night fucking me.”

He can’t quite tell if you’re mad. Your tone dances a fine line between incredulousness and amusement, though he assumes it all boils down to disappointment in the end anyway. You refuse to move, though, pushing yourself onto your knees beside him.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook,” You plead carefully. “Something’s wrong. Has been for a while, and I want to know what it is.”

He takes a deep breath and finally meets your stare and, god, you look irresistible. Your lips are bruised red from him biting and sucking at them, and your exposed chest is too tempting, beckoning him to touch you. His mind is a whirlwind of emotions ━ plus, he’s just a little bit tipsy, and so he blames it on that for caving into you so easily.

He grimaces. “I’m jealous, all right?”

You don’t respond at first, and he decides he wants to curl up into a hole and die. Then, you snort, which isn’t exactly the sort of reaction he was expecting to hear from you, and suddenly you don’t seem so angry at him anymore. “I knew that. Was wondering when you’d tell me, though.”

“You what?”

“Well, it’s not that hard to see. You’re always giving Namjoon and Taehyung death glares when I’m around.”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He says this sheepishly, and at least you giggle at him. “I just━ I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”

“I’m not a thing to have,” You retort.

“I know,” he says, and then groans the words again. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a thing to have, and you’re not mine to have but, god, I hate it that they know everything about what it feels like to be with you.”

Gently, he grabs at your waist, tugging you onto his lap, rough hands spreading your thighs to sit perfectly on him once more. Then, with his hands planted on your hips, does he guide you back and forth on him slowly. He reaches out to brush his fingers along your bare arms, then across your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He leans down as if to kiss the valley between them, but his mouth never really does meet your skin; instead, his lips graze faintly against you.

“That they know your body.” He brushes his nose against your chest as he lifts his head. His mouth ghosts across your breasts, almost catching your nipples in his mouth, his breath warm and tingly against the sensitive flesh, just to tease you. His hand follows his lips, grasping firmly at the underside of your breast, his thumb flicking over the perked bud. “Have touched it where I’ve touched it.”

Your own hands flail out to grasp at his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat. “Why? Why do you hate it so much? That’s all I want to know.”

“Because they don’t even know how lucky they are,” he mutters. “Because you probably do all sorts of things for them and they just think you’re another groupie. Because they aren’t in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Your face is hot now, your body trembling. His hands are still on your chest when he starts kissing your throat.

“Yeah. I am.”

“What if I told you I’m in love with you too?”

“Well, you are fucking my band mates. I think that makes things a tad bit complicated.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You’re certain if he wasn’t making you feel like heaven in that moment, you would have snapped the words. Instead, you’re already shamelessly grinding your hips against his even without his guidance. “I called it off with them a while ago, actually. They were okay with it, too. Said they felt something was different. You’re the only one in my life, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stops suddenly. He pulls his head back to gawk at you and is greeted to your hooded eyes watching him. “You━ What? What about this morning when you said Namjoon wanted to see you?”

“I lied,” You admit timidly.

“And when you were in his room━”

“We never did anything,” You promise. “I just wanted to see a reaction from you. Honestly, so did Taehyung and Namjoon. I mean, Namjoon purposely told me to come to his room to see if you’d be jealous. And I think I went along with it because I really just want to know that when you ask me to stay with you, in your bed, do you really mean it? I just…” You trail off, biting at your lower lip, asking him apprehensively, “What about you and that Mina girl?”

“I haven’t seen her or talked to her in months,” he says earnestly.

“Of course not.” You say this in a breathless laughing manner, as if it’s just now dawning on you. Then, you reach up to cradle his head in your hands, grasping at either side of his face. When you speak next, your voice is an ardent whisper. “I want to be with you, Kook. Like really, really be with you. I didn’t know how to tell you because we were so used to just having sex and nothing more and I figured if that’s all I could get with you, then I’d learn to live with it even if it’d kill me to hear you hooking up with other girls.”

Jungkook blinks. He takes a moment to comprehend what’s happening, but then he’s feeling that tension in his chest loosen and he’s just so relieved.

“There’s only you,” he says. “Has been for a while.”

You smile, so big and soft and pretty, and he kisses you just to bask in the moment. Suddenly, he’s just overwhelmed with love for you and almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Maybe I should get you jealous more often,” You muse pensively. “It’s kinda hot.”

“It’s mean,” he pouts. Then, his demeanour changes and he’s smirking wolfishly. “Besides, they can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”

“N-No,” You croak feebly. “It’s always been you, Jungkook. Even with them. I’d never tell them but… you’re all I could think about even when I was with them. Imagining you touching me instead of them. Imagining it was you when they laid with me.”

This seems to grab his attention, having him groaning into your neck. “What’d I say? Gonna be the death of me.”

You shiver at the sound of his hoarse voice. You whisper aloud, “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so stupid lately,” he says. “Let me make it up to you. Do you want that, baby girl? But first you gotta show me you mean it. That you’re mine.”

As he tongues a pattern against your throat, you muster a nod. You wonder if it’s obvious how badly you want him in that moment, with the way your hips continue to grind against his.

“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he murmurs against you. “Can you do that for me?”

The thought entices you and has you scrambling to nod your head again. His large hands come to grab at your ass, shifting you until you’re seated on one of his legs. Your eyes never stray from his as you start to grind against his thigh, the rough material of his sweatpants rubbing at your core. Slow and steady, he guides you back and forth, watching as your pretty mouth pops open into a silent gasp.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos. “God, you look so pretty. And you’re all mine. Touch yourself for me.”

“Where?” You ask breathlessly.

“All over. Anywhere you want me.”

You whimper at the thought, imagining the feeling of his rough hands on your body. You start at your chest, grasping at your own breasts, squeezing at your perked nipples. You pinch them until they’re hard under your fingertips, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with your palm as you try to picture Jungkook doing the same. Then, you slide one hand down the front of your stomach, past your navel. He watches as you dip lower and lower before finally reaching between your legs, fingers rubbing small circles against your clit. The mingling feelings of you rutting your hips against his thigh and the way you touch yourself under his burning stare has you writhing on his lap within seconds.

“Oh, Jungkook━” Your eyes clamp shut, brows knitting in concentration. “Wanna feel you so bad━”

“Uh uh,” he tuts at once. Grabbing at your chin, he yanks your head back up in his direction and taps his thumb against your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see how I make you feel.”

“But it feels so good,” You whine. Still, you listen, prying your eyes open just slightly enough to meet his stare again. Now, you’ve started to grind a little harder on him, rubbing at your heat a little faster. “Please, Jungkook━”

“Cum for me first,” he coos, his tone gentle despite his obvious demands. “Then I’ll do whatever you want. You can do that for me, right?”

You muster a nod, eyes threatening to flutter shut again but you refrain. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your waist, his large hard encompassing almost all of your back as he pushes you closer to him and the action alone is enough to make you hum with delight.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says. “The things they could never do for you.”

He doesn’t say Taehyung’s or Namjoon’s names for you to understand and, truthfully, you’re glad he doesn’t. Your mind is much too focused on Jungkook to care about anyone else.

“I want you━” You cry out suddenly, biting at your lip. “I want you to touch me, anywhere. I want you to use me, and make me yours. I want you in me. I just need your dick, Jungkook, please. You always make me feel so good. Please, please touch me━”

His jaw sets hard in place as he continues to watch you, fingers itching to please you however which way you want, but he waits. He knows you’re close to your high when you start whimpering and moaning his name, your hand falling from your chest as your other hand rubs harder at your clit the faster you ride his thigh. He flexes his muscle beneath your core, and the simple action is enough to have your head spinning. As you reach your high, his hand that is still wrapped around your chin slides upward and his two forefingers poke into your mouth. Instantly, you’re sucking against them, tongue laving at his digits desperately as you imagine his cock in your mouth, in your cunt, stretching you wide.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

As you unravel in his arms, body twitching into his chest, his arm tightens its hold around your back and envelopes you in his warmth so much to the point where it feels as if you begin to melt against him. You grab at his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth until you almost gag, muffled moans meeting his ear as you climax. When you’re spent, your pace on his thigh slows to a steady occasional gyrating of your hips as you suck and lav at his fingertips.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Jungkook hums, his free hand stroking your back as you calm your nerves. When you’ve regained most of your wit, you pop Jungkook’s fingers from your mouth and he takes the liberty of guiding his palm down your chin to your throat to your breasts. “You’re doing so well for me. Bet you never listened as well to them as you do with me. Will you get on your hands and knees for me?”

You scramble to obey, crawling off his lap and onto all fours on the bed. You crane your neck to watch as he gets to his knees behind you, shoving the material of his sweatpants down to his knees in haste. He’s already impossibly hard, grasped in his knuckles, precum leaking from the head of his dick. He wastes no time in pushing himself into you, and though he’s stretched you wide hours ago, the same feeling of him slipping in snug to your heat does wonders on your body still.

“Mm, Jungkook!” You cry out as he buries himself balls deep into you, coaxed so easily by your slick arousal. He sputters at the sensation, palms pawing at your navel as he yanks you further down his cock. “F-Fuck━ You feel so good━”

“Show me,” he gasps, pulling his hips out once and rutting into you so vigorously you feel it shudder throughout your whole body. Then, he’s thrusting into you at a rhythmic fast pace that has you clenching so tight around him, his head spins some more. “Let me hear you. I wanna see how I make you feel. Let me see how you belong to me.”

He tugs at your elbows, yanking you up off the bed, and you clumsily follow suit, pressing your back flushed against his chest.

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” You whine. “I want you to wreck me so bad. Only you know how to wreck me so bad.”

“Yeah?” he taunts. “Only me? Gonna prove it?”

“Please, Jungkook━ Harder, please━ I’ll do anything you want!”

He quickens his pace and slams his hips up into yours harshly. It has you moaning with delight, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he holds you tighter in place. He reaches round to grab at your chin again, twisting your head in a careful yet prompt manner so that you’re looking over your shoulder at him with your flustered gawking expression.

“Open up.” He taps at your mouth and you do as you’re told. Almost instantly, he pulls your chin closer until your mouth is hovering over his, and spits. It’s a wordless command and gesture, as if to further prompt you to prove your point. You welcome it entirely, swallowing his own saliva completely. What doesn’t make it into your mouth, dribbles down your chin and onto your throat. Then you’re chasing his mouth, hearing him hum approvingly, “That’s it, baby.”

You almost miss his lips the first time from the way he’s being so feral now as his hips continue to slam against yours. You’re fortunate when he guides your chin, still pinched between his fingers, in a much too tender manner for the crude moment that has your heart swooning despite all the hysteria. A hot open-mouthed kiss which is still entirely sloppy as your tongues ravish mid-air, and his teeth nip and suck on your lower lip any chance he can get.

“Gonna tell them how well I fuck you?” he asks breathlessly. You bite at his lip this time, tugging at it hard. “Let them know you’re all mine? Fuck━”

“Mhm!” You rasp. “Oh, Jungkook━”

By now, his pace is relentless. You threaten to ricochet from his grip with each rut of his hips, knees wobbling beneath you. He hand falls from your chin finally to grab at your breasts, replacing your earlier efforts, pinching at your nipples, squeeze at your soft flesh. He lavs wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. Your own head leans back onto his shoulder, a hand reaching out to grasp at his hair. Your fingers first scratch at the shaved sides, then thread through his hair, yanking at it tightly enough to have him grunting in delight.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna━” You whimper. “I’m gonna━”

But you don’t finish your thought. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook already knows you’re close to your high with the way you start to clench around him. You pull even tighter at his hair, a pleasant burn evoking a hiss from his throat. His hips move even faster than before, desperate to try and carry you to your high. So riddled from your first orgasm not long ago and the one before that, you’re quick to crumble beneath him once more. Twisting and turning, you cry out his name in a repeated mantra, like music to his ears. When the scorching heat between your thighs and blinding your eyes subsides enough for you to be somewhat coherent again, you meekly find your voice.

“Tell me I’m yours,” You beg despairingly, voice barely a ragged panting whisper. The aftershock of your orgasm still shakes through your body that the way you’re clutching at his hair now is only so that you can still have some sort of hold on reality still. “Please, please. Tell me. I wanna be yours so bad. You already have me, just wanna hear it from you. Tell me you want me as much as I want you. Please, Jungkook━”

A nerve flutters in Jungkook’s heart. And his dick. He marvels momentarily at the idea of how he wants to continue to wreck you and simultaneously love you all over and grows impatient. Without warning, and with much difficulty, he pulls out of you. Before you can register what’s happening or miss the warmth of his cock in your heat, he pushes you onto the bed and flips you around so that you’re on your back. Then, hovering over you close enough so that he can hook one of your legs over his shoulder, he pushes himself back into you.

“You’re all I want,” he says, smoothing his mouth over yours once more. He moans against your lips, then rests his forehead against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you. You make it so hard to think sometimes. Everything about you drives me wild.”

His pace isn’t as harsh as before, though he’s careless as he abandons all form in an attempt to ride out your high and reach his own. Each thrust he makes jolts you back and forth on the bed, the sensitivity between your thighs a mild burn that starts to crescendo as you gasp each time his cock slides back into you. You reach out tiredly to grab at his face with soft motions despite not bothering to move him from where he still rests with his forehead. One large palm of his comes to grasp at your side, pushing you further into the mattress as he hammers into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum━” He moans. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me make your cunt mine?”

“Yes, please,” You rasp. “Wanna feel it so bad.”

It’s different this time despite knowing the sensation well enough from all those times before. Every event since then has been a build up to this, and when he finally releases into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make the both of you whimper and whine, mewling with delight the longer he cums in your heat.

Then, he slumps against your chest and the room falls silent once more safe for the sound of your mingled panting. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck and your fingers rake through his sweaty hair in a soothing manner until that too ceases after a few silent moments.

“Not falling asleep on me now, are you?” he asks after the thrill of both your highs have subsided. He lifts his head to look at you and finds that you are, in fact, beginning to doze off.

“No,” You lie. You pry one eye open to look at him as you bite back a sheepish snicker. He pulls out of you at long last, and the lack of warmth has you immediately protesting. You reach out blindly for him before he can move too far. “Come back here. I want to cuddle you.” Then, letting your surroundings register once more, you realize suddenly that music has still been playing all this time. Most specifically, Jungkook’s solo which has been left on a loop. You meet his curious gaze in the dark and deadpan, “Did you seriously just fuck me to your song?”

“It’s not fucking when we were making love,” he wriggles his brows suggestively. You wonder how he’s always so quick to go from one extreme to the other. Whereas five minutes ago, you wanted nothing more than to have him demolish you with his dick, now he’s just his usual lovable idiotic self that you want to kiss all over. He’s not wrong though, you discern. The song isn’t a bad one either, and the thought of him having sex with you to his own music is undescriably hot anyway.

“You can’t say you were making love to me when you just took me raw.” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, but you’re certain he’s well aware of that. His snickers warm your heart to no end and you can’t help yourself when you lean forward to kiss him.

“I can and I will because I love you,” he says proudly. Then, as if tasting the words on his tongue and favouring the sound of it, hums more pensively again, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And this time he knows you mean it because, in the morning, when you both wake up feeling sore and marked all over by one another (so that Namjoon and Taehyung can know), you’re still curled up into Jungkook’s chest. You’re half asleep, your nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck and making him smile. You’re only roused awake by the feather-light strokes his fingers make as they rub small circles into your back.

“Stay with me?” Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. This time, he even knows it’ll be different.

He sees your sleepy smile widen when he kisses your temple sweetly, and decides quickly that he likes this, right there and now, as it is, and especially when he hears you whisper finally, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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black-mistress-of-evil · 3 years

Note

Hey! Can I request a Bucky x Reader where Bucky gets hurt during a mission and the reader is there to take care of him? Maybe he’s caught of guard by this because he hasn’t had someone take care of him in a long time? Feel free to do whatever you want with this!! Thank you so much and I can’t wait to read it 💕

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N Thanks so much for the request @thighs-of-betrayal-blog this was so fun to write! Sorry it took so long! I swear every time I get the motivation to write my life gets crazy. But here it is, hopefully it’s a little bit what you hoped for and if it isn’t I hope you enjoy it anyways haha 💜

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF; angst if you squint; very very brief canon level violence; a minute of mutually pining idiots

Word count: approx 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (he uses the endearment “doll” but other than that reader is gender neutral)

Why Do You Care?

“Bucky stop being so stubborn and let me see!”

You were standing in the living room of the safe house Bucky had dragged you into, hands on your hips glaring down at the super soldier on the couch. He was avoiding your gaze, staring a hole in the wall to your left, and had his arms folded across his chest. He looked to you more like a pouting child than a 100+ year old ex-assassin/current Avenger and if you weren’t so frustrated with him you’d probably giggle at the sight.

The mission had been a success. Sort of. You and Bucky had been sent in to steal sensitive files from an abandoned Hydra base. Which you managed to do. But it ended up being less than abandoned and without any backup the fight out was a rough one. Just as the two of you were finally getting out, covered in blood and bruises, Bucky had grabbed your arm and shoved you into a crouch, bending himself over you protectively as a shot rang out. He grunted out in pain and you leaned around his frame to send a bullet straight into the skull of the Hydra agent who’d been stupid enough not to stay down. You’d tried, then, to make sure Bucky was okay but he wasted no time in hauling you back up and out into the night. His hand slipped down your arm to clasp yours and he didn’t let go until you were safely within the walls of the safe house. The more the two of you had run the more obvious it became that he was hurt but he ignored you asking about it.

Now that he’d made sure the safe house was secure and reported back to Steve what had happened and where you were, he couldn’t avoid you anymore. But he could ignore you and he was trying his damnedest to do so.

“M’fine.” He grumbled at you for probably the third time in as many minutes, shifting to turn his injured side away from you as if that would make you go away.

“Bucky I know you’re not fine so why won’t you just let me see so I can help?” The cuteness of his pout was wearing off as your patience was wearing thin. “Do you not trust me or something??”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to yours then, his heart rate rising as he saw the concern there. He did trust you. More than he trusted himself most days. Hell he was in love with you. But you were way too good for him, too full of light, and you’d never be interested in someone like him. He’d only ruin you anyways. But when he looked into your eyes he couldn’t stand the flash of hurt he saw when you asked that question.

“Course I do doll...I trust ya...” his voice was hoarse and he tried taking a deep breath to clear his throat but it sent pain shooting through him and he groaned, pressing his hand to the still bleeding wound in his side.

“Buck....” your tone was softer now as you took a step closer. You thought for a second that he was going to let you check on his injury but the moment your hands reached for him he shot up, ignoring the pain, and pushed past you into the bathroom while mumbling about not needing help.

You roll your eyes and sigh as the bathroom door slams shut behind him. Ever since you’d met the quiet soldier when he joined the Avengers he’d swung back and forth between pushing you away and pulling you in closer. He always volunteered to be partnered with you and you worked well together but he’d refuse to spar with you. He liked helping you cook for team dinners but always declined your invitations to go out for lunch. During movie nights he only ever sat beside you or, if someone beat him there, he’d sit on the floor and lean against your legs even if there was an empty seat by someone else, but he wouldn’t join you when you were binge watching your favourite show alone. You couldn’t figure him out but the more you tried to the more you fell for him. It had been agony for you to want him knowing he could never see you as more than a teammate and friend. Regardless of how many times his behaviour had made it clear he wasn’t interested in you that way, you couldn’t help it. You loved him. And if that remained unrequited the rest of your life then so be it, you were that gone for him.

And so, despite his insistence that he didn’t need your help, you found yourself trailing after him towards the bathroom. You pressed your ear to the door and could hear him shuffling around, pulling out a first aid kit, and then gasping in obvious pain.

“Bucky? Open the door and let me in? Please? I want to help...I want to take care of you, you just have to let me....” you pause, waiting for a response, and notice that all the sounds on the other side of the door have ceased.

“Buck? Please, I care about you...let me...” your voice is lower, almost a whisper now, and you wait another few painfully silent seconds before hearing a long sigh from the other side of the door. When it cracks open, your eyes meet his piercingly blue ones and you nearly crumble at the uncertainty you see there.

“Can I come in, Buck?” You ask gently and he hesitates for only a second before nodding and opening the door wider. You step inside and motion for him to sit on the edge of the counter for you and he quickly obeys.

“You’re gonna have to take your shirt off for me to see, Buck.” You say gently, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He grunts in acknowledgement and begins pulling his black tee up, hissing as he raises his arms causing a tug to his injury. Without a second thought, you reach forward and help maneuver his shirt the rest of the way off, dropping it to the side as he brings his arms back down. As other times in the past when you’ve seen him shirtless, you can’t help but let your eyes travel across his firm chest and toned abdomen, drinking him in until you raise your eyes to his and realize he’s watching you. You quickly avert your gaze, your ears burning at having been caught ogling him, so you miss the way his lips curl into a smirk. Focusing your attention onto his side you gasp at the large gash there still slowly leaking blood.

“Not that bad, doll.”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Just because its not life-threatening does not mean that it’s ‘not that bad’. Dammit Buck why wouldn’t you let me help you take care of this as soon as we got here?!” You huff as you grab some antibacterial cloths and begin cleaning the wound, ignoring his hiss as you do so.

“M’sorry, doll...it’s just...haven’t really had anyone take care of me in...well since before the war to be honest. Got used to taking care of myself...used to not having anyone care.” Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper and you have to strain to listen to him. He’s never been so vulnerable with you and you want to make the most of however long he’s going to let this moment last. When its clear he’s waiting for you to say something you reach one hand up to softly cup his cheek and turn him to face you.

“I care. I care so much, Buck. You just have to let me.” You try to put all your emotions into your gaze, desperate for him to see that he doesn’t have to be alone and that he is loved and cared about. He sighs and leans into your hand more, raising his own to rest on your hip.

“Why?”

He spoke so quietly you’re not sure you heard him and raise an eyebrow to ask him to repeat himself, too afraid of breaking the spell that seems to have fallen over the two of you to speak.

“Why do you care so much, doll? Why me? I’m not...I’m not worth it.”

This is it. The chance to tell him how you feel. If he rejects you that’s fine, you decide. Even if he doesn’t return your feelings at least he will know that he is loved and that’s enough for you right now. Your heart feels like it may burst as you weigh your response carefully.

“You, Bucky, are so worthy of all the care in the world. You went through hell and back a million times over and came out the other side a kind, thoughtful, sweet, considerate, gentle, loving man. The world tried to break all of that out of you but you are too strong and too GOOD. The world owes you and if I could wrap up all the love that exists in it and give it to you I would. But I’ve only got mine so that’s what I’ll give you.”

Dropping your hand from his face to his shoulder, you hold your breath as Bucky’s eyes stare into yours as though searching for something. He tightens his grip on your waist, before finally breaking the heavy silence, his voice at least an octave lower.

“You’ll....give me...your love...?” Bucky is the strongest man you know and yet you have never heard him sound so timid and unsure in all the time you’ve known him. He looks so hopeful and scared and you can’t help the confession bursting from your lips.

“Yes Bucky! I will. I already have. It’s yours. I-I love you.” You take a deep breath before continuing, rambling now. “And I don’t expect to you to return my feelings and I hope I haven’t ruined our friendship because that would just kill me nothing has to change between us I just needed you to know that—mmph—“

You’re cut off by Bucky’s lips connecting with yours, his hands cupping your face, thumbs rubbing gently across your cheekbones. The kiss is gentle, careful, almost tentative at first. But then your arms snake around his neck and one of his hands makes its way into your hair and it becomes passionate and desperate. Bucky pulls you between his thighs so you are flush against him and the feeling of his taut muscles against you makes you moan. Your hands lift to tangle in his hair and tug gently as he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, practically begging for entrance which you immediately grant. He growls into the kiss as he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, his hands roaming all across your body, pulling you impossibly closer as you arch into him needing to feel him. He stands suddenly, pushing you back a couple of steps until you are pinned between his body and the wall. You gasp for air and he moves his lips along your jaw, down your neck, and then back up to press another searing kiss against your lips before resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his own breath. Your chests rise and fall together and he rubs his nose against yours before placing another tender, gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Sorry....couldn’t help myself...” Bucky manages to tell you between gasps for air.

“Never apologize for THAT...” you giggle and the vibrations of his chuckle against your chest make you feel lightheaded as he leans back to look you in the eye, cupping your cheek tenderly.

“I love you.” He sounds sure. Confident. Like nothing in the world could be more true than that statement. You can’t help the ridiculously giddy grin that splits your face as you tug his face back to yours for another kiss, which he smiles into.

Once you come down from your highs a little bit you manage to coax him back to his spot on the counter and you continue cleaning his injury and stitching him up though it takes much longer now as Bucky keeps distracting you. He plants kisses to your nose, your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your forearm, basically any part of you that comes close enough to his lips. When you finally finish, you let your hands run along his muscles as you rub your nose against his and kiss him deeply, gently biting his bottom lip eliciting a sound from him that turns your insides completely upside down.

Before you can say or do anything else, the front door opens with a crash and Bucky grabs you and shoves you behind him protectively as he peeks out into the front room to assess the threat.

“Dammit punk! What’re you breaking down the door for?! I thought you were a hostile! Why didn’t you just call and say you were here??!” You sigh in relief at Bucky’s nickname for Steve and move to peer over his shoulder at the Captain as the two super soldiers glare at each other.

“I’ve been calling for several minutes! You didn’t answer! I thought you were in danger, jerk!”

“Sorry, Steve! We were...distracted. Bucky needed stitches.” You quickly apologize and give an excuse in case Bucky isn’t comfortable saying anything yet since you hadn’t exactly taken the time to talk yet. But he just turns to face you and smirks as he tugs you to him for one more kiss before reaching around you to grab his shirt and pull it on.

“Ya. We were pretty damn distracted. Didn’t really appreciate the interruption, punk!” Bucky chuckles and can’t help the grin that has been plastered on his face since you told him you love him. Your cheeks flush as he puts an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to Steve who is looking between you and Bucky with a happy, almost proud, look on his face.

“It’s about damn time, you two! Now, who made the first move? I need to know if I owe Sam $50 or not.”

#let me write for you #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky x gender neutral reader #bucky x female reader

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

Perhaps them being protective over you(the reader)? Mostly platonic but hints of romantic(if you get what I mean?) Like, the relationship between them has been platonic and they’ve only really seen it has platonic, but someone(the Heroes) might be catching feelings. Also if it isn’t too much trouble do you think you could keep this in the same timeline? Like, your other scenarios had the same reader and felt like these all happened at some point, can you do the same for this one? I hope this isn’t too much trouble, really love your blog!💖💖💖

Masterlist

Ok, I think I get what you mean. The Hero is protective with a hint of feelings they haven't come to terms with. They're crushing but they don't know it yet.

I don't know what you mean by the same timeline though. It wasn't supposed to be the same reader for all of them but hey! It be like that sometimes, I guess! Especially if they're just friends.

The Reader is also set to be the same age as Wind for his scenario.

Warrior's got longer than intended and there is some catcalling in that one. FYI

Scenario under the cut!

Legend

"You can be seriously going out in that." Legend couldn't help but snap. The group had been dropped into a snowcapped mountain in the middle of a blizzard. The only luck they had on their side was a nearby cave where they all but ran to in an attempt to weather the storm and get their bearings.

But someone still had to scout and you were planning to take Wild and Twilight with you since they were the only ones who could both brace the cold and most likely find their way back.

He, however, didn't like the idea of you going out there period.

Even less so when he found you severely underdressed compared to your companions.

It seemed however, that you saw no problem with it, even going as far as to tilt your head and look down at what you were wearing at his comment. It sparked something in Legend's chest that he wasn't willing to decipher at the moment.

"What's wrong with it?" You asked.

"Are you serious right now?" Legend scowled. The top you wore was tight around your chest and the cloak that clasped at the front billowed around you ever so slightly from the wind at the front of the cave. There were thin layers of furs under your linen over shirts that matched the fur lining your boots outlining your figure and silhouette in a way he found irritating.

The light that barely peaked through the clouds lit up your form gave you a halo of light over your head and made you look more of a hero than he ever would have pictured you.

It didn't sit well with him.

"That doesn't nearly look warm enough. If you plan on going out in that then you'll freeze within the first ten minutes." He crossed his arms and stared you down, willing you to disagree, to challenge him, keep you here longer so one of the others can pick up the lack and go instead.

"It's bear fur Legend." You reply instead with an easy grin your face. He elected to ignore it because he was trying to stay mad and irritated at the lack of care you seemed to have for your own safety. Why weren't the others backing him up?! Wouldn't Twilight have said something by now?! Or Time?!

Why was it just him?

How dare you smile like that? And at him no less! He's trying to make a point, darn it! It's hard to concentrate when you look so... innocent and bright and happy and-

Focus Link.

"I actually have four layers on as well." You continue and peel back what you can to show him what your clothing looks like. Unknowingly giving him a great look at your figure beneath said layers. "Two layers of wool and two of fur and I still have my clothes under here as well. Without enchantments like Wild, it's probably the warmest thing here. I'll be alright."

He can't bring himself to believe it.

He grits his teeth and continues to look at you, not bothering to spare a glance at Wild or Twilight when they eventually join your side, both now ready to head out.

"Honestly Legend. I know it doesn't look like much but I grew up around snow and ice and mountainous storms. If anyone knows what they're doing here, it's me."

He knows this. You told him. He knows that he knows this.

Why can't he believe it?

His hand forms a fist with a tight grip and he gets an idea.

Before he can fully think it through, he's marching up to you and snatches up your hand before you can protest.

You haven't put on your gloves yet so it's skin on skin.

He can't think much of it or he'll lose his nerve and he's already gone too far to go back now or he'll only be making a fool of himself.

Legend all but rips the most powerful ring he has on his person and shoves it onto your own. It's a protection ring, it'll shield you if anything tries to hurt you.

He's not entirely sure why he cares so much, just that he does, and this is all he can do if no one is going to back him up and stop you from going.

"I want this back." He says. He knows it sounds meaner than he's intending but then you let him put it on, take your hand back and marvel at it for a moment.

"I'll protect this with my life." You flex your hand, testing out how it feels and wonder what magic it must posses for Legend to not only give it up but deem it worth for the storm outside.

"Thanks Vet." You grin brighter and Legend finds himself floundering for a moment at the intensity of it.

The tips of his turn red, he knows this and he forces himself to distance himself or else the others would notice.

Your trio disappears into the white and he sits down by the fire made for the smaller ones of the group. He hasn't made eye contact with anyone since you left and he makes the mistake of trying to casually play it off by looking up.

Time is watching him with a knowing smile on his face.

"What?" Legend barks and scowls at the attention.

The older man just laughs a bit to himself and shakes his head but he doesn't say anything.

Legend thinks back on his actions a little sooner than he thinks he should and glances at his hand. The hand that grabbed yours.

Despite the journey, your hands were so soft.

He can't help but smile.

Time

Time was watching the over the group for the morning shift, his hand over his sword and his eyes watching... well you.

You intrigued Time.

Out all the heroes of courage on this journey, you weren't one of them. You weren't a Link and yet you seemed to fill a gap the group didn't know it had.

He couldn't figure out why or how but he found himself wanting to know what made you tick, why did you work so well with the others, what your world was like, and how did it mold you to be so....

He had trouble finding a word for it.

As the boys rough housed and played around, he found himself relaxing. It was a quiet morning and he had the added support of Wolfie on look out for any monsters.

He put his sword down and and walked over to where you were.

You were sitting with a book in your lap, something he found you doing often. But this time you were ignoring the book, laughing at Wind's and Wild's antics as they blasted each other with their Deku leaves. Wind continuously knocked the Champion around but neither of them seemed to mind.

If anything, it appeared the were doing on purpose and were trying to see how far he'd go.

Boys.

He could feel the smile on his face as he made his way toward you.

"Enjoying the theatrics?" He spoke up.

You jumped with a small yelp, something he found endlessly entertaining.

"You're the biggest guy here! How are you so quiet?!" You yelled in his face with a pointed finger and hand on your chest.

Time chuckles and sits down next to you, sitting just close enough for your knees to brush. "Sorry. It's not always intentional, I promise."

"So you admit you do it on purpose!!" You turn to face him fully. Book absolutely forgotten.

Time finds himself pleased by the change.

"Occasionally." He grinned.

"Oh, and I so happen to be your favorite victim then?" You crossed you arms and leaned closer to him. Your words were biting but the smile on your face was teasing and the glint in your eye was knowing.

"Of course."

"You're impossible." You shove him away. "You're only like this because no one will ever suspect you."

"Is that so- LOOK OUT!" Time had noticed a second too late but in the seconds Time stopped paying attention to them, Wind and Wild had stopped launching each other and started launching objects.

Such objects like coconuts and hard wooden barrels.

Like the ones heading in your direction.

With no time to act, he grabs you and rolled out of the way, pressing you into his chest. The huddling objects bounced off of your spot, some exploding on impact while the rest crashed into the nearby trees and bushes.

It looked like a war zone.

Time held onto you for a second after the damage passed, waiting for any else to come your way. When nothing appeared, he began to let you go, looking down on you to see your reactions. "You ok?"

You had curled yourself into his chest, continuing to press yourself close to him even after he let go.

Time finds himself pleased by this as well.

"Well..." You took a deep breath and slowly looked up and around. "That was exciting."

"Are you hurt?" He asked again. You looked fine, if only a little shaken, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"I think my leg got scratched in the chaos."

Time forces himself to stay calm and to not show any reaction. A scratch is better than getting hit head on. You'll be fine.

"What about you?" You look up to him again, eyes wide and bigger than he remembers and they were such a lovely color-

"I'm more concerned about you." He says, cutting his own thought process off. Time proceeds to get up, being as gentle as he can with you still in his arms. "I did just happen to grab you."

"Well, I'm sure it would have been worse if you hadn't." You grin at him and push yourself away.

Time now finds that he misses the feeling of you there but isn't able to focus on why when the two culprits are running up to you at break neck speeds.

"Are you two ok?!" Wind reaches you first.

"We're so sorry, we miscalculated the angle and it went wildly off our target." Wild continues and helps you to your feet.

Wind hovers near Time, unsure of what to do or how to help.

Time looks over to where you are, breathless but smiling dazzlingly. "We're ok." You tell Wild. "Just thrown around is all, we're fine."

Time sighs and stands up, putting his serious face on. "You boys better have a good explanation for this."

They could have hurt someone. They almost hurt you. His only consolation is how they squirm under his gaze.

Good.

Wind

"What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What is this place?!"

Wind looked over his shoulder from the fight over to where you were, the monster he was fighting falling before him. It was a great thing in his eyes to no longer be the youngest of the group. Not only for there to be someone of his age to talk to but also get the group off of his back for some of their more dramatic attempts at keeping him safe.

Wind was having a blast.

Everyone had found a dungeon in the sense that they fell into it against their knowledge and will and had happened to land with partners.

He hopes so anyway.

But on his end, he's with you!

And he's loving it!

You've never judged him and you've always thought that his stories were great and this was a great opportunity to show you how cool he is in a fight without the others trying to stop him from doing all his cool stuff.

And as an added bonus, he loves spending time with you!

Wind was close to wishing on stars for more time to spend alone with you. The others were always around and always in his business. How lucky that it seems he got his wish without doing that little kid stuff, like star wishing.

He didn't take into account that this might be your first dungeon though.

...Guess you didn't have those in your world...

But that's fine! He'll just walk you through it. They're easy once you get a groove going, and as dungeons go, this one is old hat for him.

The enemies around you fall within minutes and you're a little more shaken up than he likes.

"You ok?" He puts his sword on his back and walks toward you. You're staring at the fallen enemy in front of you with your own sword still raised. There's a slight cut on your arm, a red line going across and down, but Wind is almost certain that the cut is across...the blood is just going down your arm.

Wind takes a moment to quiet the sudden and unexpected rage. The monsters are lucky, he thinks, that they're already dead.

He grips his wrist tightly at the sight and places his other hand on your own. You gulp slightly and look at him tearfully. "Wind, where are we?"

You're scared, he realizes.

Scared, and alone and you don't know what kind of place this is.

There's another cut just above your eye and there more blood going down your face.

Wind feels himself fill with determination. He has the experience you lack to make it through here. He has been in more fights than you have. He knows what he's doing.

He's going to make sure you get out of here without being afraid anymore.

"Come on." Wind lets himself go and places his hand on top of yours, gently pushing the sword down and make a small effort to lace your fingers together. His other hand grips his sleeve and he begins to swipe it across your face, trying to clean the blood the best he can. "We're going to find the others, ok? We just have to keep going and if we're lucky we'll find a map, maybe a compass and it'll help us get out of here. We'll be back with the others in no time!"

You gulp and nod, tightening your grip on his hand and let him lead you through the unknown. Your voice is quiet and soft and Wind finds that he wants to hear it more often like this...just not laced with fear. "Ok. I trust you."

Wind nearly preens at your words, a large smile overtaking his face.

He'll protect you and you won't have to be afraid, not while he's here.

"Just leave it to me. I got this."

Warrior

"Whatup, Captain?" Warrior feels a weight be thrown on his shoulder at the call of the voice.

He looks to the side where it is and throws an easy smile on his face.

It's you! And you're grinning fabulously in his direction.

"Nothing in particular. Just checking our supplies, we might need to make a supply run in the nearest town for potions if we're lucky enough to find one but..." He looks at the bag in front of him with slight distain.

Truthfully, the group is low on a lot of stuff. Food, medical and magic supplies, someone is going to have to buy the Veteran more sewing supplies as well with how much battery all your clothes have taken on.

It would have to be a big buy....

A small town probably won't have half the stuff they need. And he doesn't know what kind of budget he's working with either.

But he's dealt with worse with less.

The group will hold on for a little longer if nothing drastic happens.

But Warrior doesn't want you to know that. If he had things his way, he'd let you think that everything was ok. That everything was fine and under control.

He's used to having to keep dire news from the troops so that they can keep fighting the good fight.

Lying to you though feel wrong. Dirty.

He finds your complete trust in him endearing and your willingness to help him with any and all loads on his shoulders means more to him than he'd ever be willing to tell you to your face.

You brighten and throw a thumb in the direction behind you. "We're in luck then. There's a town, that-a way according to Wild's weird telescope from his slate. I was planning to go check it out regardless but was in need of a partner. Wild can't because Twilight benched him after last fights stunt. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone?"

That idea sounds fantastic.

"I'd love to." He says easily. "Got anything to do before we head out?"

"Nope. Ready to leave immediately." You get off of him and he follows after you without missing a beat, quickly falling into sync with your steps. It's a habit he has trouble breaking, but if he can focus on matching your stride instead, he can stay by your side for the walk.

"We're getting supplies from the town. Be back soon!" He calls out to Time and the group as you walk by.

Time raises his hand in acknowledgement and goes back to pinning Wild down with his stare alone. Warrior doesn't feel sorry for him.

With that taken care of, you both pick up your speed and quickly leave the range of your little camp. Jokes are traded easily between you two and Warrior finds himself relaxing.

It's a strange feeling but one he knows that he can share with you.

You put him at ease and there's something about you that calls for his attention.

Maybe it's your attitude. Maybe it's your determination. Maybe it's the way you fight and the grace you carry yourself with.

You're a good fighter, a good team mate, and a good person.

You take care of the others. You take care of him.

He doesn't know how to thank you.

Warrior notices that you both reach the town in record time, the conversation seeming making time a useless way measure distance.

You both walk in and begin with Warrior's shopping list since it has a higher priority than simply exploring.

Warrior makes a promise to himself to find something for you.

A small gift, if you will.

He's not entirely sure what you like just yet but he thinks you deserve something nice and if he's here to buy nice things, then why shouldn't you get something as well.

The trouble is getting it without you seeing him buy it, or figure out his plan.

You were always able to read him like a book.

"Lookin' good sweetheart!" A voice calls from the side. A loud and obnoxious voice followed quickly by multiple cheers and whistles.

Warrior instantly has a spike in irritation and he forces himself to not shout back. He's used to this. It happens sometimes back home. He's not surprised it can carry elsewhere. There's pigs everywhere.

He ignores them.

"Why don't you leave your boy toy and come find out how a real man can treat you darlin'?!" Another one comments. More cheers and howls.

Boy toy?

That's new.

Warrior looks in their direction and comes to a startling discovery.

They're not looking at him. THEY'RE LOOKING AT YOU.

Now... Warrior likes to think he's a rational man. He's good at keeping his head on straight in tough situations. He's good under peer pressure and under stress.

He takes one look at you and sees your smile gone, your head is down and your face is red in shame, anger and embarrassment.

But you don't say anything in reply and only shuffle closer to him, trying to get in front of him so he'll shield you from their gaze.

Warrior is a rational man.

Many would agree with that.

He wants to tear their heads off.

"Come on baby, don't be that way! As easy as your back is to watch, we want to get a good look at your pretty little face!"

Warrior turns suddenly and faces them all head on. "Thank you for the compliment doll face! I'm new in town and just passing through but maybe-"

He starts walking towards them as sultry as he can manage, pulling on every acting cell he has in his body.

Which is a lot if you ask him.

The tactic works as he wants it to. Warrior knows he wasn't their target and the idea of him responding instead throws them off their rhythm.

"No, no, wait-" One of them holds a hand up and takes a step back. "Not you."

"Who else darlin'?" He mimics their drawl and smirks at their instant discomfort. "You want a good time?"

"I'm leaving." One of them says after a second of horror shows on his face and not so subtlety turns on his heel and leaves. The third follows without saying anything and it just leaves Warrior and the first caller.

Warrior likes these odds.

He drops the act and lets his murderous intent shine on his face. "Got anything else to say?"

Warrior reaches for his sword and the idea finally gets through the guy's head. Leave us alone or else.

"...No." He says and finally leaves as well, not looking back at either of you.

Warrior nods at his retreating form and returns to you, a little ashamed by how long it took him to react. For your sake.

His head is low when he reaches you and he scratches the back of his neck instead of making eye contact.

"Um... What do you want to do now?" He asks lamely. By Hylia, he wants to kick himself into oblivion.

A small snort catches his attention and he snaps his head up.

You're looking at him, hand over your mouth and crinkled eyes giving away your not so hidden smile. Your shoulders are shaking and it only grows as he stares at you.

You're not mad? He has trouble believing it because he's still furious.

A small bark of laughter escapes without your consent and it's the last wall to break as the dam flows out. You're laughing hysterically and it's beginning to scare him a little.

"D-Did you see their faces?!" You nearly scream. "Oh my god, Warrior, I love you. That was amazing."

Warrior shakes off the shock and feels himself blush. "It wasn't that special..."

"Wasn't that-? Oh boy, I wish Wild was here. I would have loved to get a picture! Warrior that was awesome. I'm so glad that you agreed to come with me." You walk beside him and grab his hand, beginning to drag him through the town. "You know what? I owe you. I have some rupees and we're not expected to come back to camp yet. You want something? I'll get it for you. My treat. Anything you want."

Warrior begins to flounder, and he's uselessly dragged behind you while your grin grows with every second that you talk.

While this all happens and you talk about the ways you plan to treat him, Warrior starts to think that he might just do anything for you.

Hyrule

Hyrule was busy enjoying the scenery of their most recent trip. He had managed to sneak away from the group and walk around the area without having to worry about the others for a moment.

The quiet was nice and familiar. The place was new and begging for him to explore what it had to offer.

Hyrule... found himself wishing for companionship, weirdly.

Well, as long as his travel companion is you.

He supposed Wild would have been just the same....but he found himself wanting to be with you instead.

He just... he doesn't know why. It doesn't bother him.

There's just.... He has trouble finding the words.

You're warm and gentle and it reminds him of casting his Life spell on himself before he met the others. There's a sense of safety, of calm.

A cool breeze on a warm summer's day.

A smile creeps on his face at the thought of you. Hyrule knows that he does it often but he still can't bring himself to care about it.

"Oh my- NO! HEY!" He hears your voice. Panicked, frantic and shrill.

And it gets cut off.

It's a bucket of ice water dumped over him. His heart launches into his throat and his stomach drops to his feet. His feet are moving in the direction towards you before he even realizes it.

Hyrule has reached a full on sprint and has to continue to run when he fails to find you. He takes a moment to be grateful for his stamina and how he's used to running but you're not.

At least he doesn't think so.

But he hopes this isn't where he finds out.

He trips over something. A sharp pain cuts across his shin as he falls to the ground, palms barely sustaining damaged thanks to his armor.

Hyrule gets up and sees something even worse than what he thought.

It's your sword.

You don't have your sword.

You're unarmed and alone.

Hyrule picks himself up and your sword and continues running at an even quicker pace.

He reaches you eventually and feels unadulterated rage flood through his system.

There's a pig monster over you, cheering and dancing in victory. There's only one. He thinks it's one of Wild's bokoblins but he calls on his magic and sends his sword straight through the monsters beating heart.

There's no black blood as it falls.

He sprints even more in your direction and begins to cradle your head, gently checking for blood any injuries.

He lets the healing spell move through his fingers to catch whatever he might be missing, whatever he can't see or get to without hurting you further.

He can feel what areas need the attention the most and can almost reconstruct the attack.

There's a large bump on your head, most likely the hit that knocked you unconscious.

Your arm is scratched and multiple pieces of skin have been torn off but it's a graze more than anything, it's not bleeding and doesn't goa any deeper than that.

Probably the hit that knocked your sword out of your hand.

There's a bruise blossoming on your knee and on your stomach and he has trouble figuring out what came first. They could have come from your fall or the beast could have simply hit you again.

The magic works its way through your system and subsequently heals him as well from his own minor injuries.

There's no way you can wake up fast enough and it leaves his heart pounding in his chest.

Hyrule knows when there's nothing left to heal and has to force himself to stop before he overexerts himself. The uncertainty is killing him. Just when he was hoping to spend time with you alone, this happens.

You groan and begin to sit up, your hand going to your head before realizing that it doesn't hurt and that you're not alone.

"Hyrule...Hey." Your voice is soft and a smile overtakes your face. You looks around and sit up straighter when you catch the dead body of the monster not two feet from you. "Guess that's your doing?"

Hyrule nods and moves to give you space, reaching his hand out for you to take. "How are you?"

"Good, all things considered...." You shrug and pick up your sword. Hyrule didn't even notice that he dropped it. "I was looking for you."

A mix of emotions fills his heart. Guilt at being the cause of it. Relief that at least you're together again. Happiness, strangely, at the thought of you thinking about him.

"Well I'm not lost, just..." He nervously looks up to you, his hand coming to scratch the back of his neck. "Got left behind."

"We noticed." Your smile fills with mirth and it's borderline a smirk.

Hyrule is not prepared by the realization that he finds that incredibly attractive.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue." You say, wrapping your arm with his. "The rest of the group is over here by the way."

"Yeah... Yeah ok." He grins and tightens his grip around your arm. "Let's meet up with our friends."

Yeah....friends...That's just what friends do.

Why does he feel weird about it?

Twilight

"On a scale of one to ten, how hard is it to learn how to ride a horse?"

Twilight looked around Epona's form, pausing his motion in brushing her to see you leaning up against her, a hand on her neck and brushing ever so slightly.

"Some people are more natural than others I suppose..." Twilight responded, an idea forming in his mind. "But it's not difficult."

You nodded in response and continued to pet the best girl around.

"I can show you how... If you want that is." Twilight grins to himself, leaning closer to Epona so you don't notice. The thought makes him giddy in a childlike way and he doesn't want you to be put off by his overexcitement.

You snap your head in his direction, a bright and excited smile on your face. "Really? I've always wanted to learn but I didn't want to impose."

Oh.

Out of everyone who could easily show you how to ride a horse, you came to him.

Well... doesn't that do something to his heart.

I mean, he is the only one with the horse but -DETAILS!!

He doesn't care for them.

"Here. Get on." He walks around and holds the reins, gesturing for you to get on Epona's back.

"Right now?" You're surprised, but delighted.

Twilight thinks it a good look on you.

"Sure. We're not going anywhere just yet and Epona can use a walk to stretch her legs." He says and helps you get up. Twilight is quick to follow after you and sit behind you, your back pressed up upon his chest.

"Ok, here's what you're going to do." He gives you the reins and places his hands over yours, leading you and Epona to where he thinks is a good place to go for a small trot.

It's effortless for him to lead you both through the trail.

Your trio actually pass by the group who are resting for lunch and wave to them as you go. Twilight catches the smile Time has on his face and is quick to put together that he knows something he doesn't. He'll ask Time about it later.

Twilight talks to you about how to hold the reigns, how to kick the horse into gear, how to steer and anything that he can think of that means safety for both you and the animal.

"Hey Twilight-" You mention suddenly and point just beyond the distance. "-Should we be concerned about that?"

Monsters, also on horses.

An arrow wizzes by suddenly, imbedding itself in Epona's side.

Shocked by the pain and scared by the suddenness of it, Epona takes off in a sudden sprint. Encouraged by the reaction, the monsters give chase.

Twilight notices that they don't have as much control over their chosen transportation.

He has the advantage.

Epona's first instinct is to run back to the group, back to the numbers and safety. Twilight knows better though, he can't lead the monsters to the group, even if he has a sizeable lead on them. He quickly turns her away, a plan forming in his mind.

You don't have weapons or back up, so this is going to get interesting.

"TWILIGHT!" You scream and throw yourself against him, covering your eyes with one and and gripping him tightly with the other. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Trust me!" He yells over the rushing wind. "I think I have a plan!"

"YOU THINK? You're crazy!" You reply, directly into his ear. "But I trust you... so I guess I am too!"

"That's the spirit!" He grins. Twilight knows Epona won't be able to do much more without injuring herself further and he doesn't want to make any reckless decisions with you right next to him.

He'd hate for you to no longer want to ride a horse over this bad experience.

"Hang on tight!" He finds himself yelling, adrenaline in his veins and he pushes Epona to go a little bit faster.

There's a cliff nearby, a ledge that if he can Epona to go fast enough, she can jump it.

The monsters may try to follow but Twilight is riding heavily on their lack on control and the horses will to stay safe.

Epona reaches it and jumps.

There's a moment of weightlessness and Twilight's heart floats up to his throat. You gasp, and fling yourself around to press your face into the crook of his neck.

Twilight takes one arm off of the reigns and wraps it around you, pressing you tightly into his chest.

Epona makes the jump, landing on the other side with a little more turbulence than Twilight is used to, but he'll blame her shot.

He slows her down and looks to the other side of the ledge.

The monsters do in fact try to follow but Twilight's gamble and intuition pays off. The horses stop just by the edge and several monsters fly off of their backs and down below. The other monsters who can't get by, stop in anger and scream from the other side.

But it appears they lost their archer to the abyss.

So you're safe.

"Oh my goodness..." You gulp and remove yourself from him. "Holy cow... You did it. You mad lad, you did it."

Twilight chuckles nervously and begins to lead Epona back to the camp, gentler and a little more aware now of how she's moving, how much she's been hurt.

"Is Epona ok?" You try to look around him and spot the injury, but there's not a lot of space on the saddle to manage that. He does it for you and sees that it's mostly blocked by the saddle itself, the arrow imbedded deep into the side, just missing the both of you.

Epona most likely only has a scratch and was more startled if anything.

Twilight's not happy about his girl getting hurt but knows that she's taken worse hits. He'll tend to her later, he's worried about you too.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, but Epona?" You insist.

"She's fine. It mostly hit the equipment. They were terrible shots." Twilight grins easily, taking the lead in steering Epona and leans into your back.

You laugh breathlessly and turn your head directly into his. It gives him a great view of your eyes and how they seem to glow in the light. He finds himself entranced and almost misses what you say completely.

"You're incredible, you know that?"

He nearly preens and he pulls himself back. "You think so?"

"Incredibly reckless." You snort. "You've lost your privileges' for yelling at Wild. You're just as bad as him."

"I-..." Twilight starts but can't finish.

"But hey, at least we're ok." You lean back and make yourself comfortable against him. "That could have been worse."

Twilight doesn't move a muscle while you're there, if you're comfy against him, then he'll keep you comfy. "Yeah. Sorry about freaking you out back there."

You go quiet for a moment and he wonders if he's ruined something. Twilight doesn't know if there's something to ruin actually, and he doesn't understand the thought now that he's had it. He doubts you'll stop being friends because of this, so that's not at threat. Monster attacks are not something new. But...

He wants to do this with you, for you.

He doesn't like the idea of you turning him down.

"I don't know..." You say eventually. "Maybe you can make it up to me by continuing these horse riding lessons. Maybe I'll forgive you then."

Twilight doesn't look at your face, he doesn't turn to look at you. He's afraid he'll give too much away on his face if he does.

"If you're still up for it?" It's question. It wasn't supposed to be a question.

You nod and fully relax, your heartbeat gently beating against his own. "Maybe less monsters next time?"

"Agreed." Twilight grins. "Not until after you learn to go out on your own."

"How about... No."

Wild

"Wild. I. Have a question." Wild looks up to your approaching form, tensing up in anticipation.

"Yeah, what's up?" He tries to grin naturally. Wild feels his heart start to beat faster and his face heat up. He gets nervous around you even if he wants to be by your side, but he doesn't know why.

He knows you're friendly and sweet and nice and incredibly smart and there should be no reason that you do this to him and yet he wants to impress you so bad....

But he doesn't know how.

"Your slate has that crazy inventory right? So you carry a whole bunch of stuff on you at all times?" You try to stand tall but you dip your head and thread your fingers through your hair.

You're nervous.

Now you really have his attention.

"Yeah. I might have enough stuff to rival the Veteran and he's known as the Collector as well." Wild sits back and tilts his head at you. "What's up?"

"I..." You start and bite your lip. Wild's eyes land on it and he focuses there for longer than he thinks is appropriate. "I just wanted to ask if I could borrow a sword if you had extra... Mine's about to break and I don't want Smithy on my case about it, since I don't have what I need to fix it. But....um...You know what, nevermind. It's not a big deal, I'll manage, I'll-"

"No! It's fine!" He shoots up to his feet and grabs your hand to keep you from leaving. "Got anything in mind? I've got claymores and short swords, elemental weapons and sheikah blades. I've got some cool boomerangs or clubs from monsters if you want those."

While he's talking, he brings up his slate and begins sliding through the pages and icons, bringing it up to your faces so you can get a better look at what he had to offer. He's quick to point out what weapon can do what and how he has one story for each of them.

He takes a look over to your face and is overjoyed when he sees that you're looking through the screen with as much fervor and excitement as he did when he first came into contact with his world's weapons.

"..." He sees your eyes lock on one of them and voice comes out in a giddy giggle. "This one."

"Which one?" He leans over and places a hand on your shoulder. You let him, or you don't notice but the fact that you don't shove him away makes in happy in a way.

You point to it and he has a brief moment of panic when he sees the one you want. It's one of Robby's creations, a sheikah chainsaw so to speak. It's one of the biggest weapons he has.

"OK." He gulps and takes it out. He presses the activation button and watches your face when it lights up the blade.

A large grin over takes your face when you see it and stare at it for a moment. The light is bright in your eyes and you let out a giggle that's borderline hysterical.

"This is awesome!" You make grabby hands at it and he hesitates to give it to you.

He likes that you like it....but he's suddenly not all to convinced that he should. Wild knows that he's reckless and that he gets hurt a little more than anyone appreciates but... What if you get hurt? With his weapon, no less?

The thoughts scares him a little more than he'll admit.

Maybe you should have that one.... Maybe a more... normal weapon would have been better?

You step away and give it a few experimental swings and his heart launches into his throat.

"Ho-ok!" Wild frantically opens his slate again and takes out a another weapon, a normal iron sword. "Take this one as well actually."

"One is enough Wild. Thank you but-"

"We don't want the others to get jealous, now do we?" He lies. "This way it'll be easier to explain...so maybe save that one for emergencies?"

"Alright." You press the button and stash the weapon away, taking the other sword from his hand. Your fingers brush and he tries to not jerk his hand back and make it awkward.

"For the others sake." You grin, and there's a glint in your eyes that makes him think that you're on to him.

But you don't mention it.

He won't plan to mention it either.

He'll gladly share anything else with you though. You just have to ask.

Four

"RUN! WE HAVE TO RUN!"

Four's head snaps up and he doesn't have the time to register why before you run past him and grab his hand, dragging him behind you.

"WHAT?!" Four yells next to you and matches his stride to your easily. "WHY ARE WE RUNNING?!"

"THEY'RE AFTER ME!" You cry and continue running, taking a sharp turn. "NO TIME TO EXPLAIN!"

Four isn't prepared for the level of rage and concern for your behalf as he begin to reach for his sword and turns around to fight whatever has you in a panic.

"Don't!" You pull his hand harder and nearly throw him off of his feet. "It's not worth it. Just run, maybe we can find a place to hide."

"What's after you?" He asks instead. How bad did it have to be that you didn't even want to fight back? Was it monsters? Did they have numbers on their side? Was it the weapons they had? Were they infected?

He'd gladly fight them for you.

But if it's bad... it's bad and he knows that infected monsters take more effort then they should and they're not something he can do alone.

"Here!" A smile appears on your face and with another sharp turn to press him close to your body and squeeze into a small space. There's no space between you two, it's chest to chest, completely up against each other and Four suddenly has a hard time concentrating.

Four says your name in an attempt to distract himself from your body and eyes the hand you press against his mouth in response.

"Shh..." You look outside the hidey hole and snap back in.

Familiar voices ring with mirth and exhaustion but they are not dangerous. Four finds it in himself to be a little miffed at there not actually being any danger but he keeps quiet at your request.

"Where do you think they went?" Wind has a grin in his voice.

"I don't know. I think they actually lost us." Wild replies in kind. "But they can't be far. It's not like they can out run us."

"You take the right and I'll take the left?" Wind offers and Four has to wonder what they want with you.

You keep your hand over his mouth for a moment longer before slowly retreating.

Four gulps and takes a breath. He's immediately assaulted by how you smell. It's weirdly not just sweat, but apple blossoms and some kind of herb that he's having trouble pin pointing.

It's intoxicating and despite the lack of personal space, Four thinks that this is the most comfortable place he's been in a while.

"Ok. I think they're gone." You turn and begin to shimmy out of the hole. "Sorry about that. They want me to do something dumb with... an item of mine and I don't have the heart to tell them no. So I ran... Which didn't really work because they followed."

Four follows out of the hole and brushes the front of him off. He places his hands on his hips and fixes you with a stare.

"And then I ran into you and I didn't want to explain everything but you're a good guy and you'd just tell them where I went because you wouldn't know and I didn't want to risk leaving you behind-"

A good guy?

"So you kidnapped me?" Four raises an eyebrow. "That was your solution?"

"Well... How else do I get your attention?" You mimic his position and look him in the eye.

Four's about to retort with something that you could do before he stops himself. It's... not something one would just say to a friend. But he finds the idea very appealing for a moment before being disgusted with himself for thinking that about you.

He rolls his eyes to change the conversation outwardly but he continues thinking about it. "There are easier ways to get my attention. One of them, for example, say my name."

"Hard to do, if all of you have the same name." You grin.

He smiles back.

Truthfully, now that he's thinking about it, a lot things that you do catch his attention.

The way you move your hands when you talk. The way you move when you fight. The sound of your laugh. The color of your hair and your eyes.

"Um..." You laugh nervously and scratch the back of your neck. "Would you mind staying with me for a moment longer? I uh- Don't know the way back and I don't want to risk running into either of them just yet But.. I did kidnap you, so if you have something better to do-."

Oh yeah, he'll stay with for for longer. He doesn't mind one bit.

Sky

Sky yawns and rubs at his eyes for a moment before turning his gaze back into the fire.

It's early.... like, stupid early. He hates getting up before the sun and would have gladly stayed in his bedroll... but it's his shift.

Admittedly, he doesn't mind being on watch.

But it's the whole concept of being up before the very time keeper in the sky that miffs him. His body wants to fight it and he typically has to put his whole bed roll away when it's his turn or else he'll be tempted to go back to it and sleep the rest of the night time away.

The only bonus, he supposes, is the chance to watch the sunrise.

It's so different on the surface than on Skyloft, there's more colors and it's not as blinding. He can't to experience more when he reaches his own time again.

The other bonus, he supposes, now that he's thinking about it, if the chance to watch over his new friends and that includes you.

You... Are just as mesmerizing as the sunrise, he thinks.

There's something about you that he finds completely captivating. Your endless colors and arrays of simplistic beauty keep his attention in ways he wouldn't have thought possible. Bringing peace and tranquility to the group when they need and being a signal to start the next leg of the adventure.

And yet, he can admit that it's nothing extraordinary.

You're not trying to impress anyone. It comes naturally to you.

Like the sunrise.

Sky smiles to himself and....he's mature to admit that he's glad he met you, and he think he'll miss you the most when this is all over.

When Sky comes back to the present instead of being trapped in his own head, he realizes that he's been staring at you for a while.

You're still sleeping.

He takes a breath. That wouldn't have been awkward. He prides himself on not being a creep, thank you very much.

You turn in your sleep and a sound escapes you.

Sky sits up a little straighter and watches you again. He knows that everyone has their fair share of demon to fight even when they're asleep. It wouldn't be all that surprising to learn that you had your own battles beyond daytime.

You move again, lifting your arm to fight whatever your brain says is in front of you and a gasp comes through.

Sky shoots up again begins to make his way over to you. He's careful not to wake the others but if he kicks Wind's on the way over, he won't mention it... It's not like that woke him up anyway.

When he finally reaches your side, you're shaking and moving side to side without knowledge of what is happening outside your own mind.

Sky nearly growls and kneels next to you.

"I wish I can fight those things for you..." He says out loud as he begins to gently shake your shoulder. "How dare they still plague you. They're not even here. Who gave them the right?"

You give out a small scream, something in your mind terrorizing you and it prompts Sky to shake you by both your shoulders until you wake up.

Your eyes shoot open with a gasp. You're covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. It takes you a while to realize where you are and who's in front of you but in the meantime you try fighting Sky off, still not fully aware that you're awake.

"Hey, hey, it's me." Sky takes a step back in hopes of calming you, even if it's the last thing he wants to actually do. "You're safe now. It's ok."

You finally stop and look at him, staring for a moment until he can see the moment when you see him. "...Oh..."

"You ok?" Sky takes the step forward. "That seemed rough."

"I... Um..."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He takes another step forward and places his hands on your shoulders. You're still shacking but instead of answering him you launch yourself into his arms.

Sky doesn't hesitate to hold you and lets you cry into his shoulder for as long as you need. He makes a vow to himself right then and there.

He's going to do his best to protect you... and the others. So that even if things get hard, maybe you'll have less nightmares to deal with.

If you'll let him, that is.

For now, he's going to hold you and be there for you when you need him.

It's... really all he can do.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #IT'S DONE!!#I'm not so proud of Sky's and Wild's but feedback is always welcome #Hopefully the mess of posting it unfinished is the first and last time I do that #Will it happen again?#most likely but ehh...

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notso-average-writer · 2 years

Note

Hi! Could u write a fic about how realistically it would be like to have a relationship with Jason? Thank u!!

Realistically Speaking

“Hi! Could u write a fic about how realistically it would be like to have a relationship with Jason? Thank u!!”

Hi, Anon! You don’t know how much your ask means to me right now. I was so close to deleting this blog and quitting writing forever but this… this makes me feel good. So thank you so much!

(I also haven’t written in YEARS so it’s gonna be a little crusty)

Realistically speaking, Jason cannot exist. Let’s just say that flat out. No HUMAN BEING, in this universe at least, can be RESURRECTED from drowning. For the sake of this ask let’s just say he survived and became a hermit, living in the woods and feeding off plants, bugs, and animals. Building shelter with his own hands while still living off the land. Where does (y/n) come along you ask? Jason realizes that all the food from the now-dead campers is either rotten or gotten to by the neighboring wildlife.

‘It has been a couple of years since anyone wanted to step foot in the camp, but maybe some canned beans would still be salvageable?’ Jason thought to himself while looking through the pantry of the main hall

Absolutely not. The package dated back to 1943, a year before his own mother was born. He held the dented and rusty can in disgust, even the cockroaches crawling on it wanted no parts of these beans. Jason sighed, realizing not only did he not have any more canned goods, but he had also chased the native population of deer away. Sure there were rats and other animals around the cabins, but he considered some of those animals his friends. He is a Disney Princess at heart after all.

The once full pantry of canned goods and spices mocked him. After years of living in the camp, it never occurred to him that he would run out of food. He held his head low, knowing what must be done. He grabbed the various bills folded neatly on his dining room table and stuffed them in his pockets. The kids that used to come to camp most likely carried some form of cash on them. Jason never thought he would actually use the money, but he thought it was good to keep on hand just in case.

Taking eager but steady paces up the path towards any civilization, Jason had realized how long it’s been since he’s seen any other person since his last kill a few years ago. The once vibrant camp had folded upon its murderous past. Leaving Jason alone with nature and his thoughts. Jason isn’t this undead, barbaric creature of the night; He’s human. He feels emotions, he would want love and companionship just like any other being on this earth. And just like any other being, he needed food.

The small market came into view quicker than he anticipated. It was early in the morning, the sun barely peeking through the trees as the cool winter air brushed past his nose through the holes of his mask. The last time he’s been to any place like this, his mother gripped his hand tightly while slightly dragging his petite body through the parking lot.

Looking around the premises, various holiday themed decor could be found. From colorful Christmas lights to the creaky dancing Santa at the front of the store. A little outdated, being as though the new year had rang in a few days back. However the dingy decorations brought the silent killer a warm feeling within his being. Birds chittered in the sky with joy, bringing a small smile to his face. While the scene had been mundane, Jason had appreciated the sense of normality the atmosphere held. All those years surrounded by nature had taken the reality out of the ever so growing world. The towering trees creating their own dimension, shielding Jason’s small civilization. It was nice knowing that some things on the outside stayed the same. Taking in a small breath, the man walked into the mart. Establishing a small shopping list in his mind.

Y/n was an old soul. Seeing that the smaller things in life were easier to mentally digest. She worked at a veterinary hospital in the middle of nowhere and lived in an one room shack not too far from the camp. Of course it’s been properly renovated to accommodate the average human in the 21st century. Adding her own personal touches here and there to make the cabin feel more homey. The young woman went to the mart every week, grabbing groceries, toiletries and sometimes small trinkets to liven her home.

Knowing the malicious past of the area, neighbors and visitors weren’t common. Most of the girls’ social interaction being with her coworkers and the couple that tended to the mart. So it came to quite the surprise when she saw a man, a masked man- but a man no less, browsing the aisles of the small store front. He peaked her interest ,sure, seeing someone out of her usual social circle casually strolling the canned goods aisle would spike some curiosity within anyone. A small surge of energy lurched from Y/n’s chest, her normal grocery run had become a little more interesting as the masked figure’s head shot towards her. The small bell alerting him of another presence in the store besides the sleeping old man and himself. In a heartbeat, Jason turned his head back to the can of chicken noodle soup in his ginormous gloved hands. Not wanting to bring anymore attention to himself while on his first escapade outside the camp.

Y/n shrugged, continuing on her normal route throughout the store. Glancing out of the corner of her eyes ever so often to check on the man's shopping progress. Oddly, there had not been much. Jason stared at the two cans of soup in his hands with confusion, not understanding the label's content. All this nonsense about “GMO's” and “cholesterol” had boggled the hermit man's mind. What did any of this mean? Was he going to still be alive after eating this? Millions of questions raced through his mind until he heard a soft voice speak up,

“This one has more chicken.” Y/n said as she pointed at the blue can in his right hand.

Jason's head whipped to his right side, spotting the young woman directly next to him. His height easily dwarfing her own, almost scaring him. The last time he was this close to another human, they were begging him to spare their life. His heart rate sped up at such close proximity, body stiffening at the sight of the young woman's supple hand pointing at the can in his hand. Reading his body language, Y/n retracted her arm quickly and took a step away from man, granting him more personal space.

“Sorry,” she blurted, “This is one of my favorite brands, plus it's cheaper” she shrugged.

Jason nodded, putting the red can back on the shelf and the other in his cart. Y/n following suit by grabbing her own cans. The woman continued shopping for her canned goods while the man’s eyes continued to follow her actions around the aisle. This interaction had been the only positive one he had in years and he craved more.

He turned back to the shelves in front of him, reaching for two cans of beans. Both containing the same content but sporting different logos, he looked back to the woman who had just glanced over at him to spark conversation again. She smiled and pointed at the one in his left hand, Jason smiled and put it in the cart. The went on for the rest of the shopping trip, Jason wordlessly holding up two of the same product and Y/n pointing at the better one.

Once checked out with their products, Y/n and Jason walked out of the shop with their hands full with bags. They both strode towards the yellow, two door Fiat in the almost empty parking lot. Placing her bags in the trunk, Y/n looked back at the man standing at a respectable distance before her.

“My name’s Y/n by the way.” she spoke brightly, half expecting him to respond.

A few seconds passed by and the man swallowed thickly, nerves bouncing as his throat cleared up enough for him to speak.

“Jason.” the disgruntled voice spoke softly.

Y/n smiled as she shut the trunk to her car. “Well, Jason. Don’t be a stranger, if you ever need anything, I’m usually in the small cabin over that way.” She pointed in the direction of her humble home.

Jason’s chapped lips formed into a small smile underneath his mask, reaching his eyes. He simply nodded and started walking back towards his home. Y/n looked at the man longingly as he strode, the warm feeling in her body never once fading even as she made the short drive back to her place. Something about the masked man made her feel fuzzy and humble. So every Sunday for the next few weeks, Y/n excitedly walked into the mart hoping to see her new friend. The first week after their first meeting, Jason didn’t appear. Neither did he show the week after that. Almost a month of not showing up to the mart, Y/n gave up hope of ever seeing the mysterious man again. He must of been a traveler, or a random passerby man looking for some food for a trip, she thought. Soon the fuzzy feeling started to fade in Y/n’s body, almost dissipating entirely at the sight of the empty market aisles. She sighed heavily through her nose, grabbing a cart and starting her usual routine around the store.

A bell chimed, signaling the arrival of another customer entering the store. Y/n paid no mind to the sound and pushed her cart to round the corner into the next aisle, eyes searching for an item on her grocery list. Looking up on the top shelf for her box of cereal, she spotted him in all of his masked glory. He had cleaned up a bit, the ragged shirt he sported the last time they had met had now been replaced with a semi-clean flannel button up. An olive green heavy coat wrapped snugly around his frame, and of course his infamous cracked and battered mask sat on his face, bringing out his baby blue eyes. His figure heavily contrasting with the red and pink Valentines Day decorations surrounding the store.

Y/n’s eyes shone brightly, excited to see her new found friend once more. They stared at each other for a moment, then both looked away bashfully. Jason made careful steps towards the aisle Y/n had planted herself in, once face to face they made eye contact once more.

“Hi.” Y/n spoke meekly, resisting the urge to speak more than that.

“Hello.” Jason rumbled with his baritone voice. His eyes looking at her figure, then to her cart. Searching for something to spark conversation.

Pointing to the yellow box of cornflakes, Jason looked at her with curious eyes. The woman blinked at once and nodded, “Those are good but,” she stepped back to gesture to another box, “These are the best.”

Once again they went through the same process of shopping and once they found themselves back in the semi vacant parking lot, y/n spoke up again.

“Do you need a ride home?” She questioned, hoping to spend more time with the masked shopper. The question lingered in the air for a hot second before Jason finally answered.

“No.” He rasped with a twinkle in his eyes. Y/n nodded and continued to pack her things into her car.

Jason waved to the woman and continued on his path back to the camp.

Some weeks later, Y/n sat in the living area of her home, enjoying her favorite hot beverage and watching some movie she’s seen a million times before. Valentines Day was one of those days that have never had that much of an affect on her. This year would have been no different if it wasn’t for a certain masked man. After their last encounter, the two had seen each other every Sunday. Slowly becoming close with one another. Once she had dropped a bag of pretzels as she went to pick them up and they both went to pick it up at the same time. Classic and cliché. Her heart pounded as their hands met, heat rising to her chest. She thinks about all the awkward encounters she had with this man, making her heart flutter all over again.

She munched on said pretzels as the screen of her television lit up the dark room. It was a dark winter night, no where near late. At least a little after 5pm as a knock sounded upon Y/n’s door. The woman jumped in her seat in confusion and shock, she surely wasn’t expecting any visitors. She crept to the front door nervously and slowly. Once her finger touched the door knob a wave of realization came over her, her grocery store friend was always welcome to her humble abode. She excited swung open the door, meeting the eyes of exactly who she thought it was.

“Hi!” She greeted with a slight breath. Taking the man in, she noticed the three single flowers, half dead, all varying in shape and color.

“Hi,” the man rasped meekly, Y/n stepped to the side and offered him to come inside her home. He happily did so, the warmth of the cabin warming his cheeks. Once inside Jason pushed his giant hands that engulfed the flowers towards her. She smiled brightly and took them gracefully. The delicate petals slowly withering way but the sentiment was still there.

“Thank you.” She beamed.

From then on, Jason came over to her house almost every day. With her cooking him meals, patching his tattered clothes and just simply spending time together. Jason never really wanted her to come to the camp, in fear of her retracting her feelings. But Y/n fully knew who Jason was, it never bothered her one bit. If anything, knowing of his traumatic past made her heart yearn for him more. The days went on and Y/n and Jason did almost everything together, from watching T.V, to her favorite activities. Their relationship went without saying much. When Jason would come home with wounds and battered clothes after doing his job at the camp, she’d patch him up with light tsk’s for being too rough on himself. His mask, while although gave him comfort, came off while he was with Y/n. The feeling of hiding completely dissolved from his mind when he was around her.

Jason truly loved Y/n, referring to her as his Little Dove and her calling him various names such as Big Guy, Hubby and Bear. Y/n came to find that Jason was a greatly touch starved. Always finding some way to be close to or on her. Hand holding, thigh squeezing, head caressing were always happening when Jason was near. Things never seemed to go farther than that. Sex being something they haven’t found themselves bringing up often, if ever.

Y/n loved to walk around the camp, taking in the scenery and breathing the ever so fresh air. Jason keeping guard of course, not wanting anything to go south. All in all, the relationship between the two flourished with every day the spent together. Of course there were some bumps but never anything that could cause the two to separate. With Jason being extremely clingy and couldn’t stand the sight of her even slightly upset with him.

Thank you, Anon for this ask. This has brought the writer out of me that has been in hiding for the past few years. If you want more, please feel free to send it to me! Thank you for taking the time to read, I hope enjoyed. :)

Jan. 15, 2022

#teja's works #fanfic #slashers #slasher imagines #slash fanfiction #slashers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees imagine #jason voorhees #friday the thirteenth

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