#first Miles refusing to just SAY no i did not pick up a gun and kill a man
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what is it with stubborn prosecutors who get arrested for a crime they probably didn't commit and refusing to just say "no I didn't shoot a guy" instead of talking around it
#ace attorney#aa#dgs#dgs2 spoilers#first Miles refusing to just SAY no i did not pick up a gun and kill a man#and being unnecessarily vague#now we've got Racist Dude With Emotional Damage#saying “i don't make a habit of shooting people i work with”#after a weird pause#like dude ok did you do it once.#one time doesn't count as habit forming.#i know van zieks totally didn't shoot him#(also rip gregson fr can't believe you're dead)#(and considering this is the case right after it's revealed kazuma didn't die)#(i feel pretty confident takumi doesn't just pull that same thing again right away)#(rip gregson i will miss you)#anyway i know van zeiks is def innocent#but what's wrong with him that he won't just answer a yes or no question#asked my gf this and she said 'it's the damage'#she's not wrong
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Today's run was super frustrating for me. lt's no secret that I was gunning for a podium finish. I've always been comfortable running on the trail regardless my fitness level, and despite having only two weeks to prepare I believe I was still able to put in quality miles and minutes in training. Before gunstart I already positioned myself at the forefront of the starting line and it paid off– after the first kilometer there were only 4 women in front of me, and once we hit the uphills I began to pick on them one by one until I was leading the race.
I was following 3 guys and all was going well until we got to the aid station. The guy at the aid station pointed to a trail heading further up and told us that at the end of the trail there would be a u-turn. So we followed the trail until we got to some sort of a fork where there was a caution sign on the left and a trail marking on the right so naturally we went right.
We followed the trail until we hit the road, but it had a sign that said go left which meant to head back to where we came from. However it wasn't a u-turn so we got confused on whether to head back, go up the road, or go down beyond the sign. We decided to head back assuming it was the u-turn, a quarter way up we were met by a group of fellow runners so we told them that the sign at the end of the trail was confusing.
Our newly merged group went together check the sign again which led to discussions on which way to pick. By this time there were already more than 5 other female runners in the group which was fine by me because I thought I can outsprint them if it turned out to be a tight race to the finish line. Two guys decided to go up the road to check, I hesitatingly followed them but they came back saying they were told to go back and down the road instead of turning left like the sign said. By that point I had already lost around 10 mins going back and forth or else contemplating along with other runners which way to go.
Our group ran down the road together until we met another trio of runners (2 guys and a girl) emerging from another trail. While some of us were pondering whether to go back, forward, or check the trail where the trio came from, they already continued running down the road, and some from our group broke away and followed them. That's when it occured to me that it's either our group or the trio that somehow took a wrong turn somewhere. It drained me of my motivation because I knew it would compromise the integrity and outcome of the race.
We decided to just continue down the road and just a few moments later we caught sight of the finish line. I resolved to myself that if I did manage to land on the podium I would refuse the medal since it didn't feel like I deserved it. When I checked the result I finished 7th in 54 mins, but according to my fitness tracker I ran only a little over 6 kms. I asked a race official if it's possible to nullify my result since I didn't finish all 10 kms of the course and I didn't want to go back anymore to finish it but he said most of the top 10 were from the group that got lost anyway. Well that didn't comfort me at all.
I'm frustrated that there were no markings and signages nor race marshals in critical spots in the race course. I'm frustrated that I wasn't able to run the full race, and that I was denied the chance to go for a fair win. Top 7 isn't actually all that bad if only everyone ran the same correct course.
The official result may say I finished 7th but I'm considering this as a DNF (did not finish). Oh well. On to my next run.
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Divergent (2014) notes
>lemme just say at the top I'm not here to dunk on this movie for the sake of it and, moreover, I like every movie I've ever seen.
>I like getting a location card in the middle of the opening credits, definitely nowhere else that coulda gone
>so here's how this faction society shakes out, as I'm to understand five minutes in:
-Amity is a bunch of farmers
-Erudite is the entire science industry and ig everything that entails
-Candor is just the legal system
-Dauntless is parkour cops
-supposedly Abnegation is literally everything else. What would the subway driver be?
>realtalk I can forgo the "hurr durr faction society doesn't make sense" thing bc it's clearly analogous for teenagers entering adult society for the first time. So we'll be looking at it through that lens as opposed to the cinemasins bullshit
>lol why is the faction test like getting an ultrasound. thought it'd be like a pen and paper, Myers–Briggs thing. Faction society doesn't fuck around
>odd that a drink would inoculate Beatrice in like two seconds. Second verse same as the first
>drug trip faction test is still funny but good on the visual medium for doing visual metaphor
>set design looks like when the new star wars stuff has to make an in-universe version of a normal earth thing
>not a fan of nondiegetic licensed songs in movies, less so songs with sickass EDM drops
>lmao Beatrice just immediately talking shit unprompted
>so are they cleaning that Choosing Knife between initiates or what
>when you pick your faction you walk over to their quadrant and someone already in a seat has to get up and leave. Where do they go. Why is it set up like this. Remarkably inefficient systems here.
>you really can't trust a writer to be impartial with all their special clubs. Trust they will be biased towards one and make it the obviously coolest choice. Who tf is picking Abnegation
>presumably most people joining dauntless are gonna be doing dauntless shit for the first time, lmao, why is there no orientation. "K, welcome, climb an elevated rail line pussy"
>the percussion in the (licensed) song synching up to the chugging of the railcar is a cool editing flair. That's it. Just giving props
>why do all the dauntless initiates have cold feet about jumping in a hole. Jumping around is all these guys do. What did they think this was gonna be
>I promised not to do cinemasins shit but I'm really struggling with wtf Abnegation is. Apparently Beatrice has only eaten plain, spiceless food bc it'd be selfish to have salt? They're just so selfless they take precautions to never enjoy themselves? Why do they shower? Why do they have hair? What is their definition of vain bc so far it feels very arbitrary
>lmao Beatrice realizing cheeseburgers are good like "holy shit why did I eat rice cakes and tap water for eighteen years"
>Dauntless orientation is, in order:
-jump on a train
-jump off a train
-fall in a hole
-beat someone up
-shoot a gun
>Miles Teller giving undercover cop energy
>cool of Dauntless to pair up the girls to fight other girls. Odd amount of inclusivity on their part. Thought they were bad boy cool dudes who don't bake you cakes and tuck you into bed
>would Dauntless let me get a tramp stamp
>does Faction Society have money?
>Girls loves throwing knives, write throwing knives into your thing and I promise they'll be like YOOOOOOOOO
>running w the theory that miles teller isn't a dick on purpose, he's just really clumsy with social cues
>Divergents as a plot device are still very unclear to me
>Candor is the faction that tells the truth but faction society as a whole has, so far, two separate means of looking inside someone's subconscious so, I ask, how does anyone keep secrets in this world
>how is anyone affected by the fear hallucinations the second time around. Beatrice is telling herself "this isn't real" but i refuse to believe only divergents would think to do this
>too many actors in this movie end their sentences whispering. it's not everyone but its enough to notice
>wait so factions don't do their jobs based on applicability? Whaddo they mean Erudite is gonna be running the place soon? If another faction decided they wanted to be the parkour cops could they just challenge Dauntless for that right?
>I have a theory about the nature of Divergents I may elaborate on should I watch the other movies, but for now: if we are to take the whole faction dynamic as analogy for entering adult society, what's in the suggestion that being a sociological individual (Divergent) is a rare, unique trait? It may empower the reader who fancies themselves a "Divergent" of sorts, but I'm not yet sure how to feel about this archetype being like the sigma male of YA girls. Seems like a device that's talking down to the rest of the non-Divergent cast (I will assume we meet more than one Divergent in the course of these movies)
>I remember when this movie came out and some circles were in a tizzy over Woodley and Elgort playing brother and sister the same year they were set to play a couple in TFIOS, which I'll tell you rn is a nonissue bc at no point do they feel like siblings in this. Could be intentional since Abnegation kids are homeschooled and eat off the ground with their hands, or that's the vibe I take.
>Beatrice: *punches a guy in the mouth*
Kate Winslet: "Are you alright?"
Beatrice: "yeah, s'all good"
>icking me out, how much unintentional blood swapping goes on in this. Four goes and injects himself with a needle, doesn't replace it, immediately injects Beatrice. Do people find that hot or something
>sorry to all the Divergent haters but the fear scene with Beatrice and Four is cool. I like the problem it proposes; Beatrice has to confront common fears but critically in ways she herself normally wouldn't, since doing so would reveal her Divergent-ness. Also the only scene thus far filmed in any compelling way (I like the pullout where it looks like they're still trapped in the tiny box but turns out they're against a wall in an open space. It's cool)
>spending a lot of time with Beatrice and Four just hanging out. Will suppose the author just wanted to do a bunch of scenes with them but wasn't gonna space them out
>What exactly is Four's status within Dauntless, even? Is he just the camp counselor? He shows Beatrice how Erudite is up to some funny business with Dauntless as if to suggest he has no control over them doing that.
>what--is--up--with--all--the--injection--serums--in--this--movie
>k the fakeout ending in Beatrice's final test was neat but made a little funny by the fact that
a. everyone watched Beatrice and Four almost screw
b. one of Beatrice's greatest fears, apparently, is taking things too fast. Like it's right after burning to death
>How does Kate Winslet know about the "shooting innocent people" thing? That was one of Four's fears, and I thought what fear trials one goes through are personalized
>calling it right now: bullets in the gun are blanks but Beatrice doesn't fire regardless.
>DOUBLE FAKEOUT, IT'S VERONICA ROTH'S WORLD AND YOU'RE JUST LIVIN IN IT, BITCH
>hey guess how the Dauntless graduates get their tracking devices implanted. Guess. Make a guess. Guess how they do it. Did you guess injection bc its an injection.
>must you overthrow Abnegation by force? Just tell them it's egotistical to run the government and they'll go back to eating Corn Flakes with water.
>I'm not seeing how Abnegation stands to destroy the faction system. Why would a faction capable of doing that even be a faction. who came up with this
>Beatrice having a buckwild couple a minutes, here
>inspired mother-daughter firefight goin on. "Oh, so you shot one of your friends, Bea, come on, I've split like twelve wigs in the past two minutes, you don't see me crying about it."
>I like that Beatrice just uses a gun. All the other YA girlies are stuck with weapons arguably more graceful but if you fuck with Bea you're gettin the Blick.
>Beatrice noticeably less bothered over her dad dying as opposed to her mom, then again she's on a Horrors of War crash course rn.
>gonna attempt to call it again: Four is Divergent, he's just doing a bit rn
>lmaooo Beatrice hittin the fuckin hurricanrana on Four, why do people think she's lame
>"you won't kill me; I'm the only A-lister in this movie, barring Miles Teller who's still in the B-list incubator."
>one more injection to send the crowd home
>narration's back, wooooooooooooooooo
>why are the credits in Courier
That's all, folks. Movie's fine. Nothing outright terrible about it, least nothing we shouldn't be holding other YA movies to. When I watch Insurgent I'll be sure to make a count for all Needle Imagery
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Favourite crime pt 2
Natasha Romanoff x reader
Word Count: 2936
Genre: angsty fluff? or fluffy angst 👀
Request: yes
Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, slight coercion into sex (it doesn't happen tho)
Part 1 is here
A/n: The long awaited part two is officially here. I had lots of people who wanted the reader to move on, people who wanted them to get back together and people who wanted both. Thank you everyone for your INDECISIVENESS (kidding. ily). Also Emma was a randomly generated name - I'm sorry :3
Did I write this fic instead of sleeping? Yes. I have no regrets.
It had been a year since you moved back home. The seasons had come and gone and with that, so had your thoughts of Natasha. The same could not be said for the assassin. She had spent a blissful 3 months with Bruce before he had dropped off the face of the Earth and she was missing you. By the 5th month, she had stopped moping about and tried to find you. She searched everywhere but your town was large and unfamiliar and you didn’t want to be found.
Natasha both regretted what she had said and didn't. She regretted it because she realised just how much she adored you once she saw all the areas Bruce fell short in. You knew her better than she sometimes knew herself. You knew when to back off and when to put pressure on. You knew when she needed control and when you needed to take control. You knew when she wanted ice cream or when she wanted brownies. Bruce didn't. However, a part of her didn't regret those nasty things she said because she really didn't deserve you. You were everything she wasn’t, and she didn't know how to measure up to you.
She never voiced these concerns and so they festered and grew until she believed the only way out was to cheat. She knew that was the only thing that could drive you away. Natasha had told you all about her past, how she believed the Red Room had stripped her of her humanity – of her choice whether to become a mother. She knew there were other ways to have children - of course there were, but she hated the fact they had taken that option from her.
You were not like Natasha. You voiced your concerns which is why she knew exactly what to say and do to get you to hate her. Your previous boyfriend had cheated on you with your once best friend. You had watched as your father cheated on your mother and how that made her a hollow shell for a while, her never understanding why the man she loved could hurt her in that way. Supposedly, everyone models their future relationships on what their parents’ relationship looked like. Perhaps that’s why you kept choosing the cheaters. You were content with where you were. You had a forest, a busy town, and a beach all within a 15-mile radius of your house. You were far enough from civilisation that you could forget about reality for a while but close enough to occasionally dip back in whenever you wanted to.
You had kept in contact with Tony and Pepper, congratulating them on the arrival of Morgan and insisting that they should visit. You also continued to occasionally talk to Wanda when Carol was off world. Carol was overjoyed when she found out you had started dating someone new.
You had met Emma when you were taking a dip back into reality at the local supermarket. Her blonde hair vaguely reminded you of a woman you used to know, and you guessed that’s why you felt drawn to her. It wasn’t the electrical crackle that stole your breath away like your first meeting with Natasha, but it was something. Emma could occasionally be a little controlling, but you guessed that’s what normal relationships were like. She didn’t like you going to bars or pubs anymore and you certainly weren’t allowed in any clubs. You didn’t mind it too much as you hardly minded giving up a few nights out if it meant you could have something that resembled normalcy.
“Who’s that?” Emma asked, your face illuminated from your phone as the ding rang out.
“A friend. He’s bringing his wife and new baby over tomorrow and was reminding me to baby-proof the house.” You smiled lightly as you texted Tony back. You hadn’t mentioned to Emma that you were an ex-avenger, but it just kept slipping your mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Who is he? Where will he be staying?”
“I just forgot. Sorry. He’ll be staying here.”
“But you only have a single bed.”
“Yeah. I was planning to sleep on that and Tony, Pepper and the baby can stay in my room.”
“You mean our room.”
You said nothing, too engrossed in arguing with Tony about how under no circumstances will there be any celery in your house. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.
“Our room, right Y/n?”
“Um yeah.” You wave her off was apparently your second mistake, but you didn’t multi-task too well and so half answers were all you were good for while texting.
“I have been your girlfriend for 3 months Y/n. The least you could do is answer me properly and tell me what’s going on in your life.” She huffed, pushing your feet from her lap, and turning to face away from you, all of which you missed. You really weren’t having that evil green vegetable in your house.
“Seriously, what is even so important that you’re ignoring me right now!” Emma’s voice cut through the fog, and you looked at her with a blank expression. It was times like these that you really missed Na- No. You refused to go there. You didn’t miss her. You were over her.
“No celery.”
Emma threw her hands up in the air. “You seriously don’t see what’s wrong, do you?”
“No.” You tilted your head, confused at what your girlfriend was talking about.
“Well, I’m not just going to tell you! Jesus. You should know. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emma stood up in a huff, making a lot of noise while getting ready to leave.
“Okay – bye” Your attention was bought back to the phone when Tony sent you a cute video of Morgan crawling about, probably as a bribe to get you to buy celery. You stood, watching the video a few times before you shut off your phone, finally getting around to babyproofing your house.
~~~~~
Babyproofing a house was a lot more work than you originally thought. You had spent most the night picking sharp objects up from baby-height areas and making sure you hadn’t left any weapons about. All the guns taped under tables had to be relocated and you found enough change to set you up for retirement. You just hoped and prayed there were no small beads for Morgan to choke on. You didn’t even get around to putting soft corners on the edges of tables and counter tops, but you told yourself that it was survival of the fittest at that point. The whole endeavour had taken most the night which is how you found yourself with only an hour till Tony, Pepper and Morgan arrived.
There was a knock on the door, and you saw that you were 15 minutes late. Luckily your girlfriend had arrived half an hour before so you figured she could let them in. You shouted down, telling her to get the door as you finished putting on your socks.
“Hiya baby!” You cooed at Morgan babbling in Pepper’s arms, watching as her chubby hands reached for your hair, grabbing on with a crazy amount of strength. “Oh my god you’re strong. Pep, are you sure she’s Tony’s? I’m pretty sure she’s as strong as Thor.” You laughed, looking over at Tony. Your face dropped into careful neutrality as you saw the redhead standing behind him.
“Of course she’s mine doofus. We had multiple paternity tests.” Tony winked.
You didn’t know what to do. You weren’t ready. Your throat went dry as you asked if anyone wanted any drinks, your girlfriend waving them into the living room. You prepared the drinks, and you felt a presence behind you, wrapping their arms around your waist, their head resting on your back. You hated it. You felt suffocated. You took a breath and handed half the drinks to Emma, opting to grab a wine glass and fill it with the wine you had been saving for a special occasion. It might not have been a special occasion, but you needed something strong to get though the next few hours and you knew this would do the job.
You made your way back into the living room and Tony gestured to Emma “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”
“I’m Emma.”
“Tony. This is Pepper, Morgan and Natasha.” Your heart dropped at the mention of her name, realising that she wasn’t some cruel hallucination but was in fact standing in your living room.
“Sorry. I forgot to introduce you all.” You smiled and took another large swig from your glass.
“Hey how come you’re the only one with alcohol?”
“Because you’re a parent now.” You rolled your eyes at Tony, feeling Natasha stare holes into your face.
“So I need it even more!” Pepper hit Tony as he said that, causing Morgan to laugh.
“Don’t worry about Y/n getting drunk, she can handle her alcohol pretty well.”
“We know.” Natasha finally spoke. Her voice bought back floods of memories and you realised you missed her voice – just the tiniest amount. “Who exactly are you to Y/n?” To anyone else, the question was flippant, like asking about the weather but you, Tony and Pepper could all hear the carefully laced venom within her words and while the question sounded like it was aimed at your girlfriend, you could tell she was speaking to you.
“Where’s Bruce this fine day?” You shot back, not letting Emma speak.
“My question first.” Natasha finally turned her gaze to focus on you.
“Why are you here?” You felt Emma’s arm slither possessively around your waist. Perhaps if it had been another day, you would have appreciated it but right now, you felt like you were drowning. She held you too tight, you couldn’t move.
“Ah.” Natasha wore a smug look on her face and yet her eyes flashed with hurt. You hated that she had found out information you weren’t willing to give.
“Why are you here Agent Romanoff.” You wanted- no needed her to answer you. You needed to know why she came to you. Then you looked at Tony. “Why would you bring her here?” Your voice was level, Morgan was pulling at your leg to get you to pick her up. You used that as an excuse to escape your girlfriend’s grip.
“We need you back.”
“So you bring your baby to try and bribe me back?” You ran a hand through your hair, lightly bouncing Morgan. “That I can understand but why bring her?” You waved at Natasha, feeling both her and Emma’s eyes bore into you.
“She’s part of the team too and you both need to get on.” Pepper said.
“You were in on this too?” Your throat felt tight. You couldn’t breathe properly.
“I’m sorry but who exactly are you?” Emma asked. Natasha scoffed at her, folding her arms, and rolling her eyes.
Everything was a little too loud and muffled. It felt as if you were underwater. The sun was too bright, and it made everything a little too hard to look at. You could see your furniture, but it wouldn’t stay in your brain long enough for you to fully register it. You placed Morgan on the sofa and took a deep breath, closing your eyes to focus. When you opened them again you looked straight at Natasha.
“I am not going to play nice with you. You broke me and now that I’m moving on you suddenly decide to show up? No. I don’t believe it. Why can’t you just let me be happy? Leave me alone. Besides, I thought I was a ‘fun little distraction’.” You spat at Natasha. You were tired of being the bigger person. She had hurt you and you wanted to watch her bleed. It’s why you leant over and kissed Emma harshly, why you let out a slight moan so Natasha could hear. It didn’t matter that it was completely fake because even though you knew you should feel satisfaction at Natasha’s hurt face, the twinge of sadness upset you more than you would have liked.
Natasha knew the kiss was forced. She knew it was, but it didn’t stop the knife digging deeper into her heart. You had moved on and she had to respect that. She had said some awful things to you, and you really did deserve someone much better than her. You stormed out of the house, saying that you were going for a walk, leaving your girlfriend to entertain your guests.
~~~~~
It was dark by the time you got back. You saw Natasha on the sofa and ignored her as you walked straight to the guest bedroom. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep this horrible day into the past but unfortunately for you, you had a girlfriend sitting on the bed.
“This bed isn’t big enough for-” Emma cut you off with a rough kiss. “Emma not now-”
“Yes now. I want to remind your ex what she’s missing.” Emma went back to kissing you and you wanted to cry. You didn’t like her possessiveness, didn’t like her jealousy. With Natasha that had been fun but with Emma, it made you feel afraid.
“Emma seriously.” You grabbed her wrist, not letting her reach into your underwear.
Emma huffed and stepped back. “What’s your problem?”
“I’m really tired. Can’t we just sleep?”
“It’s your ex, isn’t it? Why is she even here? I can’t believe you were going to just let her stay here and not tell me!”
“I didn’t know she was coming!” You were both stage whispering, conscious of the fact there was a baby that most likely didn’t sleep all that often.
“Then kick her out!”
You said nothing. You couldn’t just kick her out. That wouldn’t be fair.
“Oh my god you still love her. You still love her and she’s in love with someone else. Or she was. Ha.” Emma let out a bark of laughter. “That’s so fucking rich. You know what, crawl back to her but don’t come crying to me when she fucks you over again do you hear me?”
“Emma that’s not- I don’t love her anymore. I hate her. She ruined my life.”
“You truly hate her?” You nodded at her. “Supposedly, you can only truly hate someone if you loved them first. We’re done Y/n”
“Seriously?! What? Because I used to love Natasha? Because I don’t want to have sex with you? Grow up Emma. I’ve loved people before you and at this rate, I’ll love people after you too. I’m tired. I don’t have to have sex with you. You can’t make me.”
“I’m your girlfriend! You’re supposed to want to have sex with me!”
“Well not when I’ve had a long ass day!”
“Guys, I think you might wake Morgan.” You winced a little at the addition of Natasha. You knew this was going to end badly.
“This is my fucking house!” Emma said, not lowering her tone.
“Actually, it’s Y/n’s.” Natasha calmly stated. She really wasn’t going to rise to the bait.
Your girl- sorry- ex-girlfriend, fumed next to you. “You know what? Have her. She’s so screwed over from whatever you pulled that I don’t think she can love anyone ever again anyway.” Emma seethed, grabbing her shoes, and slamming the door on the way out. The sound of baby Morgan crying echoed through the house.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” You ran your hand over your face, the exhaustion of the whole day catching up with you.
“No, it’s not. I betrayed your trust over the one thing I knew you couldn’t tolerate. I knew how hurtful cheating is to you and I did it anyway. I know it’s not an excuse, but I guess I just felt like you deserved someone more than me. Someone better.”
You said nothing. You were so so tired. You missed her and it ached, but you couldn’t forget what she had done. “I can’t trust you anymore.”
“I know but please let me try again. Bruce wasn’t worth it. He only made me realise how much I love you.” Tears were filling up Natasha’s beautiful eyes and you could see just how tired she looked.
“I missed you.” You whispered out, not wanting to break whatever was being formed
“I missed you too. So so much.”
“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, but…you can have one more chance Natasha. That’s it. You get one chance at my forgiveness.”
“Okay!” Natasha sniffled slightly “I promise I won’t mess this up.”
“I’m serious Natasha. One chance. I don’t play baseball. There are no three strikes.”
Natasha gingerly reached up to cup your face. “I won’t waste this.”
“Good because I never really stopped loving you and I’d hate to be a simp.”
“I think it’s a little too late for that dove.” Natasha let out a watery laugh.
“Excuse me?” You let out a fake gasp and wiped some of the tears from her cheeks.
“It’s okay, I’ll tell you a secret.” Natasha ushered you to lean closer and you did, she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and whispered, “I’ve been whipped for you for as long as I can remember.”
You were looking forward to all the ways Natasha was going to make it up to you and hopefully, you’d get to give Bruce a good punch too. You both knew it was going to be a long road ahead but you both felt a little more ready for what lies next.
#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha x you#natasha romanov x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanov#natasha x reader#Tony stark#natasha mcu#mcu imagine#natasha imagine#natasha romanoff imagines#natalia alianovna romanova#pepper potts
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i dont mind. jjk (m) part one.
part two.
pairing: rockstar!Jungkook x reader
genre: band!au, strangers to lovers, lots of fluff, smut, future angst
warnings: overstimulation, he spits in your mouth yum(jungkook has a thing for spit ok), multiple orgasms, oral, face sitting, fingering, its sweet & playful okay
word count: 21k+
summary: What do you do when a cute boy barges into your car and demands you floor it because he’s being chased by security? Well, you floor it of course, and somehow manage to fall for him because of it.
author’s note: I’ve been writing this for ages whenever i’d get a minute to spare but its here and will be two parts!! plsplspls give it a read and drop some feedback or a reblog. please listen to I Don’t Mind by Defeater, that song it the reason I wrote this lmfao.
Day One.
The iced coffee you held in your hand felt nice despite the slight breeze that surrounds you as you walk down the street, phone held against your ear as Yeri spills her heart out on the events that just happened to her. Something about being rejected by someone and that said someone’s girlfriend popping up, you were sort of lost in her story, only humming when you deemed necessary.
“This is why I'm single!”
Mhm. That sucks.
“Like can you believe that?”
I know that’s crazy.
You shuffle the bags on your shoulder higher up, wincing when you realize the weight of them had left an indent on your skin. “I’ll call you back Yeri, I’m about to get in my car.”
She said her goodbyes promising to let you know even more details on her story later before you hung up. You grab your keys out of your bag and throw the shopping bags that unfortunately do not belong to you into the trunk as you curse your boss for making you do her shopping before getting into the driver's side and starting it up.
You place your coffee into the cup holder, put the car in drive and deem yourself ready to speed off when your passenger door flies open, a man flinging his body inside, practically throwing himself onto your side and shutting the door behind him, “Drive, please just drive!”
The stranger gives you an exasperated look when the car remains at a standstill, seeing you stare at him with wide eyes but how could you not stare? He looks absolutely frantic, the red flannel he wore was hanging off his shoulder and he wasn't even on the seat properly. His hair was a mess on his head, the length of it allowing you to see he has black earrings in his lobes, but you have no time to admire him in your state of shock.
“Please!” He begs again and honestly you don’t know why you listen, maybe because he sounds desperate, maybe because you’re slightly bored and want to see where this would take you, or maybe because he probably had a gun. Regardless you do so while managing to clear the tight parking space with ease before you were speeding out of there.
He visibly relaxes as he looks behind him and your curious eyes glance at the rear view mirror to see what he was staring at, gasping when you saw cops running down the sidewalk by the spot you had just left, clearly looking for someone.
“What did you do!” You shriek, your fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as you look over at the brown haired boy. Making decisions out of pure boredom would be the death of you, literally. If the cops were after him your reasoning of him maybe having a gun were probably right.
“Don’t freak out.”
The car screeches to a halt as you nearly pass a red light, both of you jolting forward at the sudden stop. “Don’t freak out? You invited yourself into my car, demanded I drive and I have no idea who you are. Those cops were looking for you weren’t they?”
He chooses this moment to buckle his seatbelt and pull down your visor to fix his messed up hair, great he was making himself comfortable. “Okay, okay. Yes I was running from them.”
You were a split second away from physically kicking him out of your car, “What did you do?”
He flips the visor back up and rubs his jaw, looking back again to make sure the cops had lost sight of him before turning back around to face you, “I ...might have ...stabbed someone….”
Oh so not a gun but a knife.
You could feel your blood pressure drop and your mind going a thousand miles a minute as you try to figure out a way to go about the situation but in the end you opt for screaming, “You what?!”
Your fingers press the unlock button and you reach over to unbuckle his seatbelt, seeing him look down at it with a frown as it slid up his chest and off his body. You were not going to jail for harboring a fugitive. “Get out! Get out right fucking now!”
He just stares at you so you take it upon yourself to reach over again and open the door for him to let him know you were not joking. As your door swung open it nearly wipes out a biker who yells every curse word at you before flipping you off and continuing to bike away.
That's when the boy starts laughing, closing the door and buckling back up as he motions up with a smile at the light that had just turned green, “Wow you yell really loud.” His nose wrinkled up as he laughs, acting as if him admitting to stabbing someone was casual small talk.
You continue to drive, your nervous eyes bouncing around to see how many witnesses were around in case he did something. You were also debating just driving straight to a police station because as far as you knew he was a psychopath who needed to be locked up.
When you gave him no reaction he stopped laughing. “Okay, wow. You took that seriously, you’re super tense right now...and a little pale.” He tilts his head to get a better look at your face but you refuse to look at him, “It was a joke, ha ha, I didn’t actually stab anyone okay?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yet you keep driving.” He has a smug smile on his face, choosing to slide down the seat to really get comfortable, “I stole some guitar picks alright? They really called out the beefiest mall cops on me for guitar picks. Pat me down if you want, I don't have anything that is stabbing material.”
“I still don’t–”
“Believe me, yeah yeah.” His hand reaches into his jeans pocket, plucking out one of the black guitar picks and holding it in front of your face to see that it was in fact new because the tiny price sticker was still on it.
There was a split second of pure silence as you stare at the pick before looking back at the road. Clearly satisfied, he sighs and pockets the pick again, choosing to spread his left arm out to rest on the head of your seat, “So, enough about me. How’s your day going?”
Cue the screaming, “Why would you say you stabbed someone you asshole!”
His eyes widen up, fingers going to plug his ears until you were finished, “Once again, you’re loud. It was a joke, lighten up.”
The muscles under your eye were twitching as you filled up with rage but you kept driving. And that's when you realized you had mindlessly began driving back to work so before you could give this self proclaimed jokester personal information you swerved to the curb and put your car in park.
“Ha ha yes it was sooo funny. Get out and tell everyone else your amazing jokes.” You gestured towards the curb with a sarcastic grin on your face.
“You’re really gonna–” He looked out at the sidewalk and back at you, “you’re gonna make me get out? Seriously?”
A nod was given in response, your hand still spread out towards the sidewalk.
“Alright, I’ll get out but you have to give me your number first.”
Your jaw dropped and your hand went limp, falling onto the center console with a thud, “What?”
“Your number, you know like your phone number?” He was already pulling his phone out, tapping on his contacts to make a new addition.
“No.”
He looked up, confusion written all over his face, not being able to fathom someone turning him down, “C’mon, let me make this up to you.”
The crisp click of your doors unlocking again filled the small car, “You getting out of my car is more than enough.”
He lets out a whistle, another grin making its way onto his face, “Feisty.”
Alright, you were ready to pop him in the face. More so when he started rummaging through your glove compartment, pulling out a random pink highlighter you had and a gas receipt that was crinkled up. He scribbled on it and slipped it back into your glove compartment, “Give me a call, I’ll buy you an iced coffee since you seem to like that.”
Your eyes flicker down at the now watered down iced coffee, only looking back when you heard the passenger door close. He blew you a kiss before strolling down the street back in the way you came.
Curiosity got the best of you so you reach over and grab the receipt from the glove compartment, looking at the paper and seeing he scribbled his number along with his name and a heart.
Jungkook.
You scoffed and crumbled it up, tossing it into the back of your car to be forgotten.
Day Twenty-four.
“Jesus Yeri stand up!” You grunted, struggling to hold your weight and hers combined as she leaned on you. She was completely shit faced, well you weren’t that far off but she was practically dead weight right now.
“He was so cute.” She whined out, rubbing your cheek with the back of her palm.
You managed to shuffle the both of you over to the brick wall by the club, gently pushing her against it to ease the weight off, “You were flirting with the mural on the wall Yeri.”
Yeri mumbled a couple of angry things before throwing her head back and smacking it onto the brick wall with a nasty thud. Her face contorted into pain as she clutched onto the back of her head, resulting in her completely losing her center of balance and face planting it onto the concrete. It all happened too fast for your drunk mind to comprehend and you only noticed she was now on the floor when she groaned in pain.
“Oh my god.” You crouched down and flipped her over onto her back, sighing out when there were no visible injuries or blood, “I thought you were gonna break your face.”
Her eyes widened as she patted her cheeks, “No I’m too pretty!”
She lay there, hands inspecting her face for anything while you gave up. You chose to sit on the ground with your back against the wall, leaving Yeri on the floor in front of you because wow your legs really fucking hurt. Dancing with heels on for three hours did not feel nice no matter how many shots you threw back.
This was supposed to be a fun outing, which it was, but neither of you were planning on getting as drunk as you are now. Obviously things didn’t go as planned, once she saw some guy she used to fool around with the stories of every failed relationship came flooding out of her mouth and the only way to get her to stop was to make her drink.
Everything was great, dancing with each other and making friends with other drunk girls was always the highlight of nights out but when you lost Yeri and found her trying to make out with a mural you decided it was time to leave.
“Where’s our uber?” She mumbled out, curling up on the floor, deeming it the perfect napping area.
“I got it.” You reached into your bra and pulled out your phone to order the uber except the screen wouldn't light up. The reflection of you pouting at your phone stared back at you when the charging icon flickered before going black.
You don’t got it.
It was dead and apparently so was Yeri’s.
The phone went back into your bra as your fingers gripped the wall to pull yourself back up. The black stilettos you had on were slipped off your feet and placed beside Yeri as you walked a few feet up the sidewalk to see if anyone had exited the club. The ground was dirty and your feet were throbbing as you walked but you didn’t pay much attention to it.
The area surrounding the club was empty except for a few girls who were way more drunk than you stumbling away in the opposite direction. Once you turned back around when you realized no one could help, you heard the sound of voices, men to be more specific.
Oh god. You instantly got nervous and hurried back to Yeri, attempting to sit her up to not draw attention to how drunk both of you were.
“You should’ve gone for it!”
“She was all over you dude.”
They all started laughing with each other as they got closer to the pair of you.
“Nah, she wasn’t feeling it.”
Once again they all groaned in unison, “She wasn’t feeling it? I don’t know it looked like she was feeling up all over you.”
You kept your gaze forward, hoping that if you ignored them as they passed they would ignore you. Yeri had a different plan.
“Hey!” She shouted out and you just held your breath as they stopped walking a few feet away from you. “Can you get us an uber?”
“Why, are you broke?” One of them asked as they came closer, making a few of them laugh.
“No, we’re drunk.” She giggled out as her head lolled over onto your shoulder.
Please don’t hurt us. Is all you could think as they moved to stand in front of you both.
“Yeah, we’ll get you guys an uber.” You hesitantly looked up at the one who pulled his phone out, expecting to see some creep staring down at you both with sinister eyes but instead you saw a dimpled face guy with purple hair and a look of concentration that was lit up by the glow of his screen.
“Holy shit, my partner in crime?”
“Dude what?”
“That’s the girl that helped me get away from the damn cops. What’s up Bonnie.”
You scrunch your face up as you tried to see who he was talking to because neither of you were named Bonnie. “What?”
“You know, Bonnie and Clyde.” That's when he crouched down in front of you and gave you a smile.
Jungkook.
“Oh my god, you!”
His friends laughed at how pissed you sounded, “In the flesh. You look like you had a fun night.”
You placed your hand on his forehead before pushing him back making him flop down on his ass, “Fuck off.”
Yeri was handed the phone to input the address, her tongue poking out as she slowly typed it, trying her best to not make any mistakes. You’d grab it from her but it probably wouldn’t make a difference.
“You never texted me.” Jungkook playfully whined, remaining seated while the rest of his friends fell into their own conversation.
“I seemed to have misplaced your number, it’s probably somewhere in a landfill if I’m being honest.”
He pressed a palm to his heart as he winced, “Ouch, can I at least get your name?”
You stretched your feet out, your calves felt cold against the concrete but you didn’t mind it. The least you could do was give him your name, “Y/N.”
He was about to respond, something smug you were sure but he was cut off. “The app says this address doesn’t exist…where do you guys live?” He looked to you for an answer because Yeri had fallen asleep.
“In Gangnam.”
Jungkook stood up, reaching his hand out for you to take, “I can drop you guys off if you want?”
You let him pull you up but you protested on the offer for a ride. It was half hearted because you didn’t want to be a burden but you also didn’t want to be stranded here until the first morning bus. “No I don’t wanna bug you.”
He already reached down and grabbed your shoes, holding them in his left hand while letting you balance on him. “Don’t worry about it. I’d rather make sure you get home safe instead of laying on the street, consider this me making it up to you.”
The purple haired boy and another with silver hair reached down to help pick Yeri up since she was out cold. “My cars parked down the street.”
You mumbled out a slurred response, letting yourself lean on him. Jungkook had left your mind since your incident two weeks ago but you were pretty thankful it was him and his group of friends that had stumbled upon you instead of other creepy guys.
The whole group reached Jungkook's black sedan, opening up the back door to slide Yeri in and buckle her up while he helped you slide into the passenger’s side, clicking your seat belt into place.
“I’ll catch up with you guys yeah? Text me the address of the restaurant Namjoon.” The guy with purple hair agreed and waved at you before him and the others wandered further down the street to the other car.
Jungkook gently closed the door, making sure your feet were good before going around the car to get into the driver’s side. “Alright, I know how to get to Gangnam but you’re gonna have to help with your streets. Can you do that?”
“Yup!” He gave you a smile as he started up the car and slowly made his way out of the parking spot and beginning the route to Gangnam.
“I’d offer you a water bottle but these are all empty or half empty.”
You wiggled your feet, pushing around a few bottles that were on the floor in front of you, “Why?”
“My car overheats a lot. She’s thirsty but I love her.” Jungkook had a look of appreciation on his face as he patted the steering wheel and you couldn’t help but giggle.
“So where was this thirsty car when you were looking for a getaway driver?”
“Parked way too far away to be a good enough getaway car, you were very convenient.”
The lights of the clubs in Hongdae swirled by as he passed them, putting you in a trance as you rested your head against the window. “Well,” you sighed, “I’m glad I was able to help.”
The rest of the ride was filled with the soft hum of the radio playing a rock song that Jungkook mumbled under his breath. He was relatively quiet which differed from the small snippets of his personality that you had gotten glimpses of. Maybe he was keeping quiet because you were too drunk to really hold a conversation.
After directing him through the small streets you arrived at your complex, the surrounding area practically dead because people were either clubbing or fast asleep in their beds. Jungkook got out and helped you step out of the car, letting you rest against the door as he tried to get Yeri’s unconscious ass out of the vehicle.
You were less wobbly than you were earlier so you wrapped one of her arms around your shoulder even though realistically Jungkook took most of the weight. You typed in your code into the keypad and the front doors slid open, the three of you shuffling into the building and into the elevator.
“Who are you?” Yeri mumbled out while looking up at Jungkook
“A figment of your imagination.”
She nuzzled into him as the elevator rose up, “You’re cute.” Is all she said before she knocked out again, her body becoming more limp than before if that was even possible.
After a bit of a struggle and the pair of you almost dropping Yeri, you finally got into your apartment and laid her out on the couch. You let yourself fall onto the loveseat beside it and watched Jungkook take his phone out to scroll through the messages his friends had sent him.
“The guys are eating somewhere in Myeongdong do you wanna join us?”
You slumped down, your elbows resting on your knees, “Too drunk.”
That was very true, now that you were sat in one place you noticed that the room seemed to be spinning. He hummed as he took in your appearance, deciding to hand his phone over to you even though he was debating trying to persuade you. He knew more than anyone that beef tasted best when drunk but he also knew more than anyone that eating beef when that drunk resulted in it coming back out in the form of throw up. “Next time then.”
You grabbed the device, not really sure what he wanted until you saw that it had the number pad open and a blank contact waiting to be filled in. He was persistent.
You finally filled out your contact information, throwing in the middle finger and heart emoji beside your contact name before handing it back, not missing the giant smile that spread across his face.
Day Fourty-two
A nearly empty iced americano was is your hand as Jungkook dragged you down the streets of Hongdae once again, “I can’t believe your ass paid this much for an iced coffee.”
He sipped his own drink, smiling with the straw between his teeth, “One, it tastes great so stop complaining it wasn’t your money, and two did you not see how cute that place was? Definitely worth it.”
You had finally responded to the texts he had been sending you since he gave you and your friend a ride, the constant string of memes and stupid jokes he would send you only made you giggle to yourself but they wouldn’t elicit a written response.
You would open the texts while you walked from one place to the next, holding in your laughter in public or sharing them with your friends when boredom struck at work. But after a few days of silence on your end the memes and jokes ended and you couldn’t stop yourself from finally sending a text, Why’d you stop?
That was probably his plan all along, get you hooked on the jokes so you couldn’t stay away. Well it worked because the memes continued and with that came the invitation to finally getting you an iced coffee. The hassle of finding time between your always changing work schedule pushed the date further back but the wait was worth it.
“You’re right, it wasn’t my money so thanks. Where are we going now anyways?” He had told you to dress comfy and you were glad you listened because you guys had been walking for a while and if you had worn your normal flats your feet would be blistered by now. Your converse weren’t exactly the best but it worked, and Jungkook thought the same since he was rocking a pair of his own. Along with that he was also wearing a pair of ripped black jeans, a grey tee and a leather jacket on top that helped keep him warm now that the sun was setting.
“Somewhere fun. You’ll love it, I hope.”
A couple of blocks later and you were entering a dimly lit club, the bass shaking the walls. This was not what you’re used to, yeah you go to clubs on occasion but they’re usually playing the latest hits and everyone’s drunk and grinding on each other. A club like this, with a band playing and people moving around to the beat of a rock song was out of your element.
The second you stepped in Jungkook was greeted by a few people, shouts of heys and random handshakes being exchanged while he kept one hand on your shoulder to not lose you.
“You come here often?” You shouted over the music, luckily he had moved his face closer so he could hear you properly.
“Yes I do. A couple of my friends are performing tonight though, it’ll be a little more mellow than it is right now.”
You hoped that was true because from what you could see the current crowd were throwing elbows and a few fists around and you didn’t want to be caught in the middle of that. Jungkook seemed to grasp your hesitance so he lead you to the back, leaning against the wall he spread his arms out to invite you to lean into him. There wasn’t really an option, everyone was crowding around the back and if you leaned on him you wouldn’t get shoved around so you did.
He kept a loose grip around your waist, letting you rest your back against his chest, feeling him hum along to the current song, his hands gently tapping out a beat on your stomach. Jungkook rested his chin on the top of your head due to your height difference, you both probably looked ridiculous but it just made you laugh to yourself.
“Oh look they’re about to come on!” One of his hands lifted off your waist to point towards the stage where two people walked on, guitar in one of their hands, a box drum in the other’s and microphones being placed in front of them.
You remembered them from that other night, the one with silver hair that helped carry Yeri and another boy with faded orange hair that you hadn’t spoken to. One sat on the stool while the other made himself comfortable on top of the box drum, pulling the microphones a little closer as they settled in, “Thanks for coming out, I’m Jimin,”
“I’m Hoseok.”
“and we’re gonna play a couple of slow songs for you guys. Is that alright?” The audience cheered and raised their drinks up, a couple of girls screaming out that they loved them.
Both of them smiled at that, shifting in their seat and checking the tune of the guitar. Jimin tapped on the guitar and softly counted to three before he started playing off chords, Hoseok joining in to create a beautiful melody that made you want to dance along. And then he started singing and you knew you had just become a fan, especially when Hoseok joined in, both their voices mixing together perfectly. The crowd sang along, obviously being fans of them, their arms in the air slowly swaying side to side, it just made you wish you knew the song so you could join along.
“They’re really good.” You mumbled out to Jungkook who had dropped his head down onto your shoulder.
“Glad you think so. We’re in a group together, you should come see us next time we play.” You couldn’t say no to that, not with how his face lit up with hope that you’d say yes.
HALLOWEEN Day Sixty-seven
And that's exactly how you found yourself with a small group of your friends at the same club on the night of Halloween, but instead of being in the back the four of you managed to slip your way into the crowd right in front of the small stage.
You sipped your drink as you waited for the previous group to clear off the stage, the crowd was calm during their set, not really liking them as much which you were thankful for because you did not want your drink on your shirt.
“So what’s their name?” Irene asked as she looked around, Yeri and Seulgi waiting for a response because you had dragged them all this way with absolutely no explanation other than they had to come. You would’ve came alone but you just didn’t have it in you, the thought of doing that filled your stomach with too many nerves.
“Absolutely no idea.”
Seulgi smirked, raising her eyebrow at you, “Okay then, what instrument does the one you wanna fuck play?”
“Lead guitar.” It slipped out before you could stop yourself so your lips wrapped around your straw once again as the three of them gasped and started making a scene.
“Oh my god Y/N, go for it–”
“Especially if he’s hot!”
“Do you know if the feeling’s mutual?”
You were sipping on pure ice at this point, your drink running dry and no longer allowing you to stall. “Yes he’s hot and he’s also really fucking dorky in an adorable way.”
Irene smacked your arm, “Wait is it meme boy?”
Question marks appeared over the other two's head, obviously having no idea what kind of code name meme boy was.
You just nodded at her before she smacked your arm again, “Go for it!”
You were honestly tempted to do so but so far Jungkook hadn’t tried to make a move, yes he was flirty but that just seemed like his personality. Your texts were always friendly, very sarcastic and full of jokes and you had only really hung out twice since the last time he brought you here so you were stumped. Plus you weren’t quite sure what your friendship was...boy that snuck into your car and also saved your drunk ass while showing you good music and becoming someone you text regularly?
Suddenly the entire crowd shifted, everyone stepping up and successfully pushing you out of your train of thought and the four of you closer to the stage. Your knees grazing the stage and the feeling of elbows digging into your back just made you remember how nice being in the back last time had been but you wanted to see his group so you’d deal with it.
One by one they came out, all with giant smiles adorning their faces as they took their place and that's when your eyes landed on Jungkook who was standing directly in front of you, his shiny black guitar hanging off his shoulders.
Your eyes trailed up from his legs to his guitar where his hands loosely gripped the neck and that's when you noticed the subtle trails of ink he had adorning his skin, you had never seen those before considering he usually had a sweater or some sort on due to the current weather, but they definitely suited him. There wasn’t too many of them, simple script across his chest and a few designs against his left arm but they were bold enough to stand out. Your eyes went further up to see him staring right at you, a giant smile on his face when he realized you had actually made it.
“You came!” He mouthed out to you, his eyes crinkling up in excitement when you smiled back and nodded at him.
Irene shook your shoulder and squealed when she noticed that but luckily he had already turned around, lightly strumming a few times while the guy you remembered as Jimin spoke, “Wow, there's a lot of you here tonight. I see some of you have dressed for the occasion, we obviously haven’t because to be honest it gets hot as fuck up here.”
Shouts were heard from all over, mixing in with the sound of the members all checking their instruments when the man holding the bass grasped the mic in front of him with a smirk, “Plus a mask wouldn’t let you guys see my pretty face and lets face it, they’re just here to see my pretty face Jimin.”
Jimin shook his head as he fidgeted with his own guitar, his head lifting up for his eyes to scan the room, “Is that true guys? Did you all just wanna see Taehyung’s pretty face?”
Noises of approval and a few dirty comments were shouted towards the stage making Taehyung wink in return which only caused more noise from the girls all around, he was clearly the man in charge of making the girls go crazy.
Jungkook had turned back around, his hand no longer holding the neck of his guitar, instead just letting it hang low on his body. He grasped his own microphone, the damn black pick he stole being held between his fingers as he pressed his lips against the mic, “And what about my pretty face?”
The crowd got even louder than before and you couldn’t stop from rolling your eyes with a smile when he looked down at you, winking before crinkling up his nose and laughing at everyone's reaction.
“And what about me?” Shouted Hoseok, the drummer who was now standing up on his drum stool with his arms spread out.
The cheers continued and Jimin waved his arms around to silence everyone, “Alright, alright. Everyone here has a pretty face, but let’s be honest, it’s me you’re here for.”
Laughs were heard but before any of the members could respond to that he brought the microphone back to his mouth, “Anyways this is a new song, hope you enjoy it!”
Hoseok tapped his sticks together before the song began, the entire crowd moving along to the rhythm that you and your friends couldn’t help but join in. That's how the entire show went, even with the songs everyone but you four knew, the experience was fun and it was even more entertaining to see Jungkook on stage.
The white shirt he had on was damp with sweat and the collar was hanging loosely around his shoulders, letting you see the ink that painted his chest more freely. He got lost in the music, certain songs making him bob his head with his eyes shut while others made him roam the stage and interact with the crowd while him and Taehyung joked around and before you knew it they were saying their goodbyes, taking a bow on stage before hopping off and disappearing into a door to the right.
The four of you immediately slid your way out of the crowd that was still shouting out for them to come back out, finding yourselves back at the bar to get more drinks.
“They were so good!” Seulgi complemented before taking a sip of her beer.
“They really were and the amount of times Jungkook looked down at you,” Irene whistled,”you’d be stupid not to make a move.”
You took a sip of your own drink, replaying the moments Jungkook had looked down at you as he shredded away on the guitar. It was hot to say the least, you had to come out to more of their shows from now on.
A bit of a commotion was heard behind you before you felt someone sling their arm around your shoulder. You looked up in shock and saw Jungkook looking down at you with a sweet smile that didn’t match the smirks he was sending on stage. He had changed into a black shirt and he didn’t look as sweaty as before. “Did you like the show?”
You pretended to think about it, enjoying the fake shocked lock on his face before you admitted that you had really enjoyed it. “Definitely. You guys are really talented.”
He bowed his head down, suddenly feeling shy at your praises. “Thanks that means a lot, we’re gonna head out to this party our friend’s throwing not too far from here. Did you guys wanna go?” He looked at you then towards your friends.
“We didn’t drive here.” Irene spoke up.
He just shrugged in return, “There’s space in our van if you’re willing to squeeze together.”
Your friends could see that you were thinking of it because a party did sound inviting and they knew you had the hots for the guitarist so they motioned for you to say yes.
Jungkook noticed and his grin only widened when he saw you nod in agreement, clapping his hands together and telling you all to follow him outside, saying the bartender would put your drinks on his tab and to not worry about it.
On the way out a few girls tried to grab his attention but he only smiled and reached for your hand to get out of there but not before you saw the nasty stares being sent your way once they saw your hands intertwined.
Once you stepped out you noticed the sun had barely set, remnants of pinks and purples still lingering in the sky as the dark blue hue slowly overtook it. There was a slight breeze nipping at your skin, making you squeeze Jungkook’s hand as a reflex. He looked over at you as your group walked down the sidewalk, seeing your hair fan out to the side and the way you tried to look down to stop the breeze from hitting your face, the sight made him circle his thumb around your palm, sending tingles up your arm.
In that moment you felt like a schoolgirl developing a crush, stuck in the phases in between wondering if this was something you would forget in a few weeks or something genuine you felt inside. The feelings in the beginning of liking someone were always your favorite, finding out little quirks about them, realizing what you did and didn’t have in common and the anticipation of not knowing if they felt the same lingering in the back of your mind.
Was this situation love? Absolutely not. It was more than likely lust but considering the short time you had known each other that was a given, although maybe you could nudge that lust over into a nice like.
“Hey guys, this is Y/N and her friends.”
You finally looked up and saw Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung gathered around a black van, loading up the back with amps and their instruments.
“Isn’t she the girl you gave a ride to last time? Thought her name was Bonnie?”
Jungkook quickly said it was a joke as you nodded, slightly embarrassed at that memory and with Yeri’s noise of realization and horror you knew she felt the same.
“I knew I recognized you!” Jimin spoke with excitement as he pointed at you before turning back to the van to help continue the game of tetris in the form of amps. He stuck his head back out for another moment, “I kept trying to go on your side but Kookie here seemed to be a little territorial on that side of the stage.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes with a grin, mumbling out to ignore him and then stepping in to help his friends finish packing up. The back of the van was slammed shut and locked, Jimin rounding off to enter the driver’s side with Hoseok calling shotgun and Taehyung calling the only available seat in the back row because the rest were occupied with equipment.
Irene, Seulgi and Yeri stepped into the van’s middle row, Irene placing Seulgi on her lap and Yeri sliding in next to her, leaving you and Jungkook to squish into the last remaining seat. You shuffled in, feeling Jungkook step in after you and close the door but before you could sit down you felt his hands grip your waist and gently sit you down on his lap.
The heat rushed to your face at the position and the audience you had around you but you just laughed it off and shifted around so you sat sideways, facing your friends and letting Jungkook have a view of your profile.
“Sorry, it was either this or being squished beside my thunder thighs.” He whispered out to you with a laugh as he patted his muscular thighs.
“It’s fine, your thunder thighs make good cushions.”
He squinted his eyes at you with a grin, “Good to know.”
The engine started up and the conversations immediately followed, Jimin asking for brutal honesty from your group because deep down he thinks they need improvement. The chorus of no you guys are great from your friends filled the vehicle and a small tap on your shoulder from Jungkook drew your attention away from Jimin’s half convinced face in the rearview mirror.
“Hey how’s work been?” He asked quietly, a small grin spread onto his lips as he waited for your response.
There was always something nice about being asked questions you knew were genuine, and in this case you definitely knew it was genuine since you had been bitching and moaning to him about how much you hated your boss.
“I barely survived the week.”
“Yikes, what did she have you do?”
Oh man, where would you start? If this were a regular office job maybe it’d be easier to talk about but no, you were the head assistant and writer in training of the CEO of the biggest fashion magazine in South Korea and she just happened to sometimes be the devil reincarnated.
“She made me pick up her kid from daycare first off.”
“Why, did she forget?”
“No, in her exact words she said I don’t feel like seeing him today he gives me migraines.”
Jungkook laughed at that and so did Taehyung since he grasped the end of your sentence. In retrospect it was kind of funny but it also wasn’t in your job description to be a nanny.
“I can handle taking her coffee and picking up dry cleaning and phone calls and literally everything else but come on, she has three nannies.”
His palm gently patted your knee as he gave you a sympathetic smile, “Smile and breathe. Who knows maybe picking her kid up gave you brownie points and when she’s old and on her deathbed she’ll give you the company.”
You could only hope.
It was now three in the morning and somehow the majority of the people at this party were still kicking. The second everyone entered the house shots and halloween props were passed around in celebration of their friend Seokjin getting signed to a huge label to officially begin his career as a solo artist. He had gone around shouting fuck yeah no more playing on street corners throughout the whole night. He was probably somewhere in the house passed the fuck out.
Yoongi, a producer and close friend of theirs, and Hoseok were in the kitchen mixing up more drinks and discussing the band’s upcoming album and what ideas they had. Yeri and Irene were playing a match of beer pong against Seulgi and Jimin while Taehyung and a bunch of others you were unfamiliar with cheered them on. You were wandering around with a red cup full of water, the second you’d finish a beer you’d chug a cup of water because hangovers were the death of you.
“Hello miss soon to be CEO.”
A bottle was handed to you and you took it while grinning at Jungkook, his cheeks were flushed a cute red and his eyes and crooked devil horns made it clear he was a little past tipsy.
“Hi mister soon to be rockstar.”
He threw his head back as he chuckled, choosing to lean back against the wall that divided the kitchen from the living room. “Oh being a rockstar would be so crazy, imagine traveling all over the world. Are you gonna be there to make sure my outfits are fashion worthy?”
You gave him a once over, pretending to find his outfit unappealing and enjoying the look of shock that came across his face at your judgement. “I think you’re fine in the outfit department.”
Jungkook's eyes narrowed at you and his lips pursed slightly as he watched you take a swig of your drink, your water now forgotten and placed on the small coffee table full of bottles. “But what if I want you there with me?” His confession was quiet, so quiet it made you think you had imagined it, until he repeated it when you looked up at him and mumbled out a dumb huh?
“What if I want you there with me, y’know traveling the world and junk.” He seemed shyer now than before, his thumbs twiddling with the head of his bottle as he gave you a sideways glance.
“Well,” you took a step forward, choosing to stand beside him against the wall and nudge his shoulder, “I’ll be there as long as you want me there.”
Jungkook could feel himself grin at your statement, seeing you grinning right back as you tilted your head up to look at him.
“Can I ki–”
“Hey! You two look way too sober to be having a good time!” Jungkook’s head turned towards the direction of the voice seeing Jin who was miraculously not fucking passed out standing there while trying to juggle a few shots, fake blood dripping down his mouth accompanied by fangs and a cloak.
He was about to respond before your hand cupped his cheek and turned his face towards you, your lips wasting no time in slotting between his own. That caught him by surprise for a split second before he relaxed, his free hand coming around to weave through your hair. Before he was able to fully enjoy your surprising display of affection you were stepping back with a smile.
“Yeah you can kiss me.”
Day Eighty-nine
You had just finished slipping on your pair of tan booties when something caught your attention through your window. The bed squeaked underneath you as you stood up to peak outside, seeing Jungkook's car parked a couple of cars away from your complex.
“Fuck how long has he been waiting out there for?”
You huffed the hair out of your face as you reached for your phone, expecting to see a text from him saying he was here but you were greeted with nothing. That just made you smirk to yourself in the mirror as you fixed your hair.
You didn’t waste any more time grabbing your bag and leaving your unit, you had the element of surprise on your side so you wanted to use it before he texted you he was here.
Once you were out of your complex you slowly crept towards his car, standing a few feet away before you decided to sprint towards it, swinging open the thankfully unlocked door and throwing yourself into the seat much like he had when you first met.
“Drive just drive!” You shouted out as you reached for his shirt to clutch onto and weakly shake him.
The scream he let out during the whole thing made this all worth it. He didn’t catch a good enough look to realize it was you until he swatted your hands off and cursed.
“What the fuck!”
You covered your face as you laughed, resting back into the seat properly as you shut the door and buckled yourself up. “What’s wrong you big baby, c’mon let's go.”
He continued to stare at you, a deer caught in a headlight with his chest pounding and his lungs working in overdrive. “Who does that!”
“You.”
He stuttered over his words before giving up and rubbing his face with a groan that eased into a laugh. “I hate you.”
You reached over and gently patted his cheeks with a smile, “I hate you too. Now c’mon!”
Jungkook took a deep breath before grinning and starting the drive. After Seokjin’s party and the two of you kissing your relationship had become weird. Not in the sense of awkwardness, more like oh god we kissed what does that make us? What direction does this go in, friends, friends with benefits or a relationship dare you say.
After a week of it Jungkook decided to throw caution to the wind and ask you out on a proper date. He was very blunt about it, his exact words being I don’t know how I feel exactly but it makes me happy and I want to take you out to see where this goes. Please tell me you’re up for it.
You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, hell your friends wouldn’t allow you to even think about telling him no. Jungkook was always as understanding as could be when it came to your work, he knew your career was your top priority, filling the time between then and now with never ending messages about what he had planned for it. It made you feel like you were in highschool, enamored by the cutest boy in class who only had eyes for you, slyly responding to his messages when you had the time underneath your desk at work.
When the clouds parted and you were given a day off, one hundred percent off, no worrying on if Mijoo would text you and demand you come in, you pounced on it, immediately asking Jungkook if his date needed more of a heads up than a day. The odds were in your favor, so now you were on your way to a cute little cafe beside Han River in Jungkook's thirsty car with the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.
It had been a while since you’ve felt this giddy about someone, work had basically taken over your life so you had absolutely no time to even think about a relationship with anyone. Sure you went out with Yeri and the girls whenever you all had a moment to spare and sure you’ve had your fair share of one night stands because a girl has needs but this, this was definitely new.
You found yourself excited to get messages from Jungkook, regardless of what they were. His random bursts of messages that he sent when his mind was whirling around and he just had to tell you of how certain he was that life was just a simulation and follow it up with fifty messages providing sources and proof. The random goofy selfies he’d send you in the middle of his band practice and on his lunch in the back room of his “real life job” because sometimes your dream job doesn’t pay all the bills.
But, your favorite texts would be the ones he would send when he thought of you, maybe a random flower on his walk out, a random stuffed animal, the smell of coffee. There was always something sweet about being shown that you were missed and being thought of.
His messages were no longer one sided at all, you had sent him a good amount of I miss you texts and selfies and memes and he was just as sucked in as you were. He hadn’t told you yet but he had a folder saved on his phone full of the ugly selfies you’ve sent him and screenshots of his favorite messages. It was clear that the lust you had for him earlier has nudged way over into a nice little like.
“Wait what?”
You were now sat in the corner of the cafe, right underneath a vibrant neon sign that just begged to be taken pictures with and luckily Jungkook had done so for you. A half finished iced coffee sat in front of you and a cup of green slush that used to be his green tea frappe sat in front of him, a slice of cake was currently being picked at by both of you in the middle of the table.
“I’m so nervous!”
You had just finished telling Jungkook about the new opportunity presented to you at your job. The fact that your boss had put her trust in you and allowed you to do a full spread for the last winter issue set to drop in the beginning of February on whatever topic or subject you deemed appropriate was shocking. How did you go from fetching her clothes and drinks and dealing with her appointments to doing a full spread?
“Don’t get me wrong, I know I worked hard for this to happen but like...what’s the catch?” you paused and took a sip of the last remaining part of your drink, “I can do this, one hundred percent.”
“Of course you can, you’re like ready to emerge from your cocoon. You won’t be able to see it but your wings are gonna be sick as fuck.” He cut you off, sending you a genuine smile before cutting a piece of the cake and popping it in his mouth as if he hadn’t just said the sweetest words to you.
“Are you calling me a caterpillar?” You tease, smiling when he forces himself to swallow the cake in his mouth, an exasperated face adorning his features.
“No you doofus, I’m calling you a butterfly.” He rolls his eyes before focusing back on the cake, his fork stabbing at another piece, “My butterfly.” He grumbles so lowly you almost don’t hear it.
You smiled at him in thanks for believing in you, opening your mouth to tease him about the cute analogy but not having a chance too since he thought it would be great to shove some cake in your mouth too.
“Whatever you decide to focus it on, I know you’re gonna make it work. I believe in you Y/N, I hope you believe me now when I say the she-devil will leave you in charge when she’s done.”
Now that was harder to believe, almost laughable honestly but you appreciated his kind words of support. You couldn’t help the slight smile that crept up on your face as you thought of the way to phrase the following words.
You finished chewing the cake in your mouth and occupied yourself by swirling your straw around the ice left in your cup. Jungkook watched you intently, picking up the slight nerves you clearly had but decided to just observe. He could tell you had something you wanted to blurt out by the way you nibbled on your lips.
“I actually have an idea,” you started off, pursing your lips slightly as your raised your head back up to make direct eye contact with him, seeing his head tilted slightly and his eyes giving you a questioning look, “I was wondering how you—well all of you actually—would feel being the subject I cover for my spread?”
His jaw dropped slightly at that, his eyes bouncing around the cafe almost as if he was trying to bring himself back to reality by remembering his current location. “Are you serious?” He wasn’t sure if you knew what that would mean to him or his band. The magazine you worked for was not some small internet zine that a handful of people read, no, it was one of the most influential magazines sold in Korea. If you guys wrote that an ugly orange beret was the next big thing then dammit every ugly orange beret would be bought and worn the following day.
The amount of publicity their band would get could potentially boost up their career and that’s exactly why they were your first option. They deserved to be heard, to move on from playing small clubs to bigger venues. They deserved to be able to fully live out their dreams and if you focusing a full spread on them helped in the slightest then you would do so.
“Yes, I’m serious Jungkook.”
A laugh left his lips as he covered his face with his palms, shaking his head in disbelief. “Holy shit...why?”
“Because just how you believe in me, I believe in you.”
Day One Hundred & Twenty
“Is this okay?” Taehyung asked you as he adjusted the leopard printed blanket he currently had draped around his shoulders. Him and the rest of Bangtan were in a studio taking shots for the spread next month and to put it simply, they were fucking nervous. They weren’t models, they didn’t consider themselves fashion savvy, they were completely out of their comfort zone but you assured them that they had to do this in order for the spread to be accepted by your boss.
As much as you wanted to slap pictures of them on stage in all their glory, this was a lifestyle and fashion magazine so you were going to tie those two together with their music and fucking run with it.
“Yes, you look great Tae!” You shouted behind the photographer, stepping back a little to give him room to work. Your back bumped into something and you stopped and glanced behind you, smiling widely when you saw Jungkook grinning back down at you.
“You look so hot bossing people around.”
He was one to talk, he looked so hot just standing there doing absolutely nothing. His black hair was laying messily on his head, he had a bit of light red eyeshadow around his eyes to give the pictures more of a pop, his outfit of choice being a leather jacket and a white tee tucked into tight black skinny jeans and his classic black boots.
“You just look hot.”
His lips turned up into a smirk, his hands tucking themselves in the pocket of his jeans, “Oh yeah?”
You hummed in response, letting your eyes gaze up and down his body and he clearly wasn’t opposed to your attention since he took it upon himself to give you a small twirl, finishing it off with a laugh.
“This still doesn’t feel real Butterfly.” He admitted as he threw his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer to his side, the both of you watching Taehyung posing for the camera and trying not to laugh as Hoseok teased him from the sidelines.
“Why?”
Jungkook took a deep breath and paused for a moment, letting everything really hit him. “I don’t know. I mean, we’re a random fucking local band that plays shows in a hole in the wall bar yet we’re here being styled by some of the best people. Shit, I’ve never had my makeup done for me so I didn’t expect to like it this much, but I know the girl who did it is probably top notch and this photographer,” His finger pointed at him and you reached out and grasped it, deciding to just hold his hand so people wouldn’t think they were being talked about, “He obviously knows what he’s fucking doing!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at him and his excited little ramble, “It’s just crazy that in a few weeks we’re not just gonna be known by the fifty fans that come see our shows every now and then. I just…we don’t know how to repay you for putting your ass on the line for us.”
His gaze moved from Taehyung back down to you, choosing to give the top of your head a kiss. The gesture was sweet and made your heart swell while also making a slight blush rise on your cheeks so you wrapped both of your arms around him to bury your face in his chest so he wouldn’t see how easily affected you were.
“Okay Y/N, last two to shoot are Jungkook and Hoseok.” Ildo the talented photographer of the day called out to you. He had finished shooting Taehyung and was now moving to sit behind his monitor and review the shots he had just taken. You and Jungkook walked over to stand behind him and beside Taehyung who was looking at the monitor in awe at the shots just taken.
“Wow, I can just hear the panties dropping at these shots.”
Jungkook reached over and smacked his shoulder as they laughed loudly, the pair of them starting to bring up inside jokes that you knew nothing about. You scooted a bit closer to Ildo as you both flicked through the images. “These are gonna look super nice. We’re doing the group shot last right?”
“Thanks Ildo, you’re amazing and yeah we’ll save that one for the end.”
Jungkook was guided to the white backdrop, one of the hair stylists fidgeting with his hair for a moment before deeming him decent and retreating back to allow his shoot to begin. He had the same leopard blanket Taehyung had on draped over his shoulders for a few of the pictures. Whether or not they were models they were very handsome men that knew the sex appeal they carried with them, that was obviously thanks to the women that went to their shows and fawned over them, and you were extremely grateful for that because your boss would’ve thrown these in the garbage if they screamed amature.
Ildo easily instructed him on how to tilt his head and where to look for the shot to come out nicely and before you knew it you were halfway through Hoseok's shot. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were standing around goofing off while they waited for him to finish because the final group shot was next.
“I need to fix my instagram theme.” Jimin mumbled out, tapping filters he couldn’t decide between on a selfie of his.
“Why?”
He frowned at the photo, not sure if he liked it enough to post yet so he passed it over to Jungkook, “Because no one wants to follow you if your theme fucking sucks Taehyung.”
Taehyung looked completely confused, pulling his phone out to open up the instagram app. He tapped on his own page and scrolled down and back up, “I never realized?”
Jungkook handed the phone back to Jimin, “Yeah post it, it looks good. And Tae, that’s because your instagram is amazing without you even trying.”
Taehyung continued to scroll through his own photos, a small pout on his face as he craned his head over to see Jimin's instagram page from his phone.
“You have like a weird art hoe meets alternative vibe going on.” That caught your attention so you made a mental note to bring it up during your interview later.
“Thanks I think?”
All of you turned your head around to focus on Hoseok when you heard excessive clapping and excited screams coming from him, signaling the end of his shoot. You rubbed your palms together and grinned at the boys, “Alright, almost done guys. Just a few shots of you together and we can go get some food in our system before we figure out the interview.”
They all shot you a thumbs up before making their way back towards the lit up backdrop, all of them acting a lot more casual with being in front of the camera now that they were a group.
The shoot wrapped up fairly quickly after that, you shouting out thanks to the entire crew and the guys joining in as everyone gathered their things. Jimin had suggested you guys go to this new pizza spot near by, saying he invited the others to join in if that was fine.
You honestly didn’t mind it, as long as you were able to get a page written on them during this outing it didn’t matter who was there.
Jungkook fished his keys out of his pocket, jingling them in front of everyone before approaching his thirsty car. “Shotgun!” Taehyung yelled before bolting to the passenger side, not getting a chance to throw it open since Jungkook clicked the lock button.
“You wish.”
“That’s his wet dream’s seat Taehyung.”
They both started cackling when Jungkook sent them daggers for eyes. “Am I the wet dream?” You teased, giving him a smirk as you pressed your hand to your chest acting like you were flattered.
“Yes!” Shouted both Tae and Jimin, Jungkook only mumbling a timid yeah.
“Kinky. I’ll take it.”
Day One Hundred & Thirty-three
You were currently in your building’s conference room, your thoughts going a million miles a minute as you adjusted the giant blow ups of the mock spread you were in charge of.
The next months issue was dropping in a few days and considering your boss had been out of town for two weeks, if she didn’t approve of it she would scrap it, maybe fire you for pulling out amateur work and then go for the backup spread that one of your coworkers was told to provide just in case.
You tucked in your floral button up and adjusted the cuffed sleeves for the final time before taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on your face as everyone who was in charge of your job walked in, your boss being the last one.
“Good morning everyone!”
Everyone was shuffling into their seats but spoke a greeting in return, their attention automatically going to the huge posters behind you.
“Are you ready to impress me Y/N?” Your boss, Mijoo’s voice cut through the room, a smile on her face as she looked at you.
She may be extremely bossy, and strict, and sometimes bitchy but you couldn’t argue with the fact that she knew what she was doing and she put her trust in you so that had to count for something.
“Yes, of course!” You cleared your throat and stepped to your left, fully letting your spread show behind you.
“With winter approaching us it’s obvious to step away from fresh and inviting looks in fashion, everyone wants to bundle up and stay warm but something about the same old burgundy scarves and black trench coats is very–“
“Last year.” Mijoo cut in and you nodded in agreement with her, everyone else in the room nodding along.
“Exactly, I think we can switch it up by gravitating towards a more alternative look for winter.” You gestured towards the group photo of Bangtan on the first poster, they were clad in layers and boots.
“It would be a nice switch from the typical cutesy fashion worn for winter, it will give us an edge compared to other magazines. This style is meant for layering, it looks very messy but every article has purpose and it feels like every outfit has a story that comes with it.”
Mijoo stood from her seat and walked over, her gaze on the posters and not at you. She was intrigued, that much you could tell. She stood in front of what would be the first page, a compilation edited like polaroids of the four of them with their signatures under their respective picture, “It has an edge to it, and it’s very androgynous.”
You stepped aside as she continued to make her way through every photo, her eyes skimming the words you wrote with an approving look on her face, “Who are they?”
Her light brown eyes looked directly at you this time and you almost choked on your spit from trying to speak so fast, “A band, Bangtan. I know we never cover music artists but when I saw them perform live their sense of style combined with their sound is what really drew me in. I feel like this sense of fashion is heavily influenced by the artists who really birthed it so it just seemed right to have the focus of the spread be people who really live and breathe this.”
“Interesting.” Was all she said, taking a few steps back to see the spread in full with her hands crossed in front of her, “Were these the only pictures shot?”
“No, there’s still plenty of single and group shots that didn’t make the cut.” You were reaching for your phone to open up dropbox and show her but the sound of her own cell going off stopped you.
She reached into her pocket and fished it out, looking at the screen in annoyance before answering with a What? You looked away from her, giving your own work a look of pride because damn were you proud of this spread. Directing everything on your own and managing to put together a team that brought your vision to life really made you feel like you had found your niche.
“Well, pass a few photos you deem worthy of being cover material over to Sunmi and we’ll have it finalized and ready for production in a few days. If the general public is as intrigued by this as I am then you’ll be seeing more opportunities like this in the future. Good work Y/N.”
And with that she was walking out of the conference room, everyone else calling out a good job as well before packing up and leaving you standing there with your jaw basically on the floor. She not only loved your spread but she deemed it cover material, that was big for not only you but Bangtan as well and you couldn’t wait to let Jungkook know.
Your fingers were shaking so hard as you sat in your car with your phone in your hands, your contact list was lighting up the screen while you scrolled through it to find his name and when you finally did you pressed your finger down so hard on his name you were surprised your screen didn’t crack.
C’mon, c’mon…
“Y/N!” He shouted your name out in greeting, and you couldn’t help the giant smile that came across your face.
“Jungkook!”
“What’s up Butterfly?” You could hear the faint sounds of drums in the background, making it pretty clear he was currently practicing with the rest of the guys.
“Are you with the others?”
Shuffling was heard through the phone and from how clear his voice sounded you could tell he had his palm cupped over the microphone, “Why? Is this your way of initiating phone sex? Should I go somewhere alone?”
“Oh my god are you guys about to have phone sex?” Taehyung shouts out, having heard Jungkook’s hushed words from beside him. A deep laugh fills the air as he dodges a punch aimed at his stomach, running away towards Jimin with his bass hanging low on his shoulders.
Your face instantly went red as you let out a small scream followed by laughter, “No! And that’s not how I would initiate phone sex, c’mon romance isn’t dead-” Jungkook starts apologizing immediately, “I would obviously send some kind of nude before calling.” And the apology was over and now he was joining in on your laughter.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time, but to answer your question, yes I’m with the guys.”
“Cool, put me on speaker!”
Jungkook was confused by that but said okay regardless and did just that. His phone was held in his right hand as he waved them all closer together, Jimin and Taehyung had been fucking around with their instrument making a parody of a The 1975 song as Hoseok recorded them with a smile on his face.
“Hey!” He shouted out obnoxiously, a giant smile on his face as he watched his friends have fun. They all turned to him, Jimin falling to his knees as he played a random guitar solo with his head tilted back and a cheeky smile. “Y/N’s on the phone, she has something she needs to tell us.”
The last notes Jimin played echoed out in the room as they all quieted down, that honestly made them just a tad bit nervous and they were kind of assuming that you were going to inform them that their spread had been cut. Nonetheless they all gathered around the phone as Jungkook raised it up and told you they were ready for whatever news you had.
“Alright,” you began, trying not to let too much of the excitement seep out of your voice, “you know how I told you guys I was going to be in charge of a spread for next months issue?” They all hummed in agreement, Taehyung chewing on his fingernails while Hoseok continued to record with his phone.
“Well, about that. Uhm, how would you guys feel if maybe instead of that-” their hearts instantly dropped for a moment, “we make you guys the cover of next month’s issue too?”
All of them looked at each other in a state of shock, Jungkook screaming are you fucking serious into the phone while Jimin dropped to the floor with his hands over his head, Taehyung walking around the room with his hands in the same position and a smile on his face as Hoseok hopped around and recorded the whole thing.
Your laughed mixed into the sounds in their room over the phone, “Yes I’m serious! My boss loved the spread and told me to send our editor some more shots of you guys to make a cover for the issue. So get ready to see your faces plastered all over Korea on February 1st!”
Day One Hundred & Sixty
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Jungkook questioned as he stood in your doorway, a black leather jacket framing his body, a sliver of his dark red printed button up peeking out between the zipper.
You weren’t staring at him, you were just admiring him entirely, especially his new hair which he had decided to dye a bright red. “Because you’re fucking hot Jungkook.”
A bashful smile took over his face and he let his gaze fall to the floor before trying to play it off, “You’re one to talk, also, why do our outfits kind of match?”
You also had on a pair of black jeans, a thick belt around your waist and a dark printed button up tucked into them with a leather jacket in your arms. “Haven’t you heard? This group called Bangtan says this is totally in right now.”
Both of you were currently on your way to the nearest magazine stand to pick up as many copies of it as you could, a copy for both of you to frame as memorabilia, some copies for Jungkook's family, a few for them to toss out at an upcoming show they have, and some more for safe keeping.
Your eyes were a little dry due to the fact that you could barely sleep, tossing and turning the entire night with butterflies in your stomach at the thought of your first spread dropping today, but you were so full of excitement, mostly for Jungkook. The look in his eyes was one of achievement, this was something he and the guys only dreamed of and to have it happen was like a daydream he never wanted to end.
“So,” Jungkook started off, his hand reaching out and intertwining his fingers with yours, “heard any good feedback yet?”
Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand gently, “Yes actually! I got a couple of articles linked to me of other fashion outlets talking about you guys and mentioning our interview. So far everyone loves you guys.”
That just made his heart burst in his chest, he could only imagine what his mom was thinking as she sat in her cozy little house in Busan, maybe she had stumbled upon the magazine spread or an article on her own before Jungkook could surprise her but he was hoping that wasn’t the case, he wanted to have this moment with her.
“This is so...wild to me.” He spoke softly, his eyes downcast and a bashful smile on his face as you guys exit your building. “You know that feeling when things finally start to fall into place and you catch yourself thinking that this is it?”
You nodded at that, squeezing his hand in reassurance, “That’s what I feel like right now. Fuck, thats what all of us feel right now. We’ve been dreaming of this for years and the fact that you gave us this opportunity is beyond me.”
That warmed your chest up, you had only known Jungkook for a short amount of time but he had grown into someone special in your life. Every now and then you stumble into someone that makes everything click and he was that person. You wanted to make him happy, going out of your way to just make him smile and this opportunity did all that and more.
The rest of the walk was spent in silence, Jungkook getting slightly more nervous as you both approached the magazine stand and you felt like you wanted to barf already. You could see the stand in the distance, a small crowd gathered around it to buy the new magazines and you were praying you would hear some good feedback.
“Good morning.” You greeted the old man stood by the magazines, he greeted you with a smile while he checked out a group of teenage girls.
“Wait,” one of them whispered before looking down at the magazine, “that looks like him.”
Her friend looked down as well before looking back up at Jungkook, a small gasp leaving her mouth. “Excuse me!” They called out, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder and bringing him out of his own daze as he stared at his face on a magazine cover.
“Can you sign this!” Jungkook’s eyes bulged out, almost expecting them to say they were joking but when they stuck out their magazines with giddy expressions he realized they were being serious. You stood beside him with a smile, your phone coming out to take a sneaky picture of this moment because you were sure he would want this memory to be photographed.
Jungkook’s shaky hands took the sharpie the old man handed him and scribbled out the signature he had been practicing for years, bold strokes of his name on the glossy paper making a feeling of pride taking over when the girls thanked him excitedly and walked away.
That feeling of being on cloud nine lasted the entire time you guys trekked to the makeshift practice room the guys had in some random shop, a bunch of magazines being clutched in your hands and nearly spilling out when you guys entered the room.
“Holy shit!” Taehyung laughed out, your eyes drifted around the room until you spotted him and you burst out laughing because he was sat surrounded by his own pile of magazines.
“I guess we all had the same idea then huh?” Jimin spoke out, he was sitting criss crossed on the floor with the magazine opened up to their spread.
Apparently so, because all of you had a pile of magazines to share, to keep and just for the sake of having. This was meaningful memorabilia, something you all could hopefully look back at years from now, when you were all successful in your own way, and see the moment where it all seemed to take off.
“I honestly want to plaster a hundred copies on my bedroom wall as makeshift wallpaper.” Hoseok spoke as he flipped through the pages containing the interview, his eyes skimming the words typed on the paper, eyes squinting as he recalls the way you all had bantered throughout it.
“Oh my god, imagine when you bring a girl over and she sees hundreds of you staring back at her on the bed.” Taehyung snickered out as he took a photo of a magazine against the patterned rug he was on top of.
Jungkook giggled to himself before telling you he was going to facetime his mom and walking to a far corner of the room.
Jimin was sorting through a bag he had beside him, pulling out a flyer and handing it to you with a grin on his face. It was a red flyer, the words Hope World on the top with the date right beside it, June 26th.
“We’re headlining this festival with our friends. We actually had this planned before the whole magazine spread but tickets dropped today so this timing is perfect.”
Underneath the title was a group picture that hadn’t made the cut for the magazine spread, all of them looking absolutely amazing. Right beside them was a photo of Jin, the last time you had seen him he was drunk as fuck and not as put together but you couldn’t deny the fact that he was handsome. And right underneath him was a photo of Yoongi, someone you remember meeting at the halloween party, the name Agust D being right below him.
“We actually got a call a few minutes ago saying that tickets sales went through the roof and just sold out.”
You finally looked up from the flyer and met Jimin’s eyes, creased into half moons from excitement. “Holy shit, really?”
“Y/N, we weren’t expecting to get close to hitting capacity and today we get a call saying its completely sold out.” Taehyung interrupted, a giddy smile on his face.
“Obviously we aren’t Coachella over here expecting over half a million people but considering who we are we never thought it’d sell out.”
At that, Jungkook walked back over, dabbing his cheeks lightly as he slid his phone back into his pockets. “Sell out what?” He asked curiously, sliding his arm across your shoulder.
“Hope World Fest dude!” Hoseok shouted.
“Wait what?”
He slid his phone back out and called someone frantically, chewing on his bottom lip as he waiting for whoever it was to answer.
“Namjoon!” He shouted into the receiver making everyone flinch and the person on the other end chuckle, the sound filling up the small space through Jungkook’s speaker.
“Hey JK, what’s up man?”
“Don’t whats up me, did we really sell out Hope World Fest?”
Namjoon only laughed again, “Sure did. Sells went through the roof this morning.”
Jungkook could only stare at the floor, the shock rendering him speechless. His mind was currently going into overdrive. This was all happening too fast he felt like he was going to puke everything up.
His band mates felt the exact same, they’ve had this band since the last year of high school. They were used to playing house shows, the occasional club and bar but never a festival. The closest they had gotten to playing a show similar in size would be the one time they opened up for a band called The Rose but that had been a year or so back before they blew up.
When Namjoon first spoke of creating this festival a little over a year ago they never thought they’d be a headliner. Namjoon knew everyone, he had so many massive bands and solo artists and rappers on the bill for the festival but he always insisted on having them headline. And when the news that you’d be writing about them for your magazine came up he was sold on the idea.
Seeing everything come full circle like it was right now was too surreal.
“JK? Uh...can you guys confirm he still has a pulse?”
Jimin stood up and plucked the device from Jungkook’s hands, pressing it closer to his lips instead, “He’s breathing, might be in shock but he’ll be alright.”
“Okay good,” he laughed, “by the way, all the travel arrangements to Busan are set i’ll send you all the itinerary. Is Y/N there?”
“Yeah, I’m here!” You nervously spoke up.
“Oh, hey! I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to make it but there's an extra flight ticket with your name on it if you decide to go.”
You thanked him and let him say his goodbyes, Jimin handing you the phone with a smile before going back to what he was doing. You slid it into the front pocket on his jeans, giving his cheek a tiny poke to make him come back to reality. His nose crinkled up at the action, a smile spreading across his face as he cupped both your cheeks in return and planted an obnoxious kiss against your lips.
The both of you lingered in the practice room for another hour, talks of the show they played a few days back that you missed due to work, all of them taking turns to show you whatever footage fans had captured of the show, the boys going through their social media, having mini freak outs as they saw their followers increase before their eyes. There was just something about witnessing this moment in their life that filled you with happiness, the sparkle in all of their eyes as they watched views of their music videos increase every few minutes. It was absolutely priceless and made it so much harder to leave once you finally said your goodbyes, leaving the room with your hands clasped together and the biggest smiles on your face.
Your phone vibrates just as you reach Jungkook’s car once more, a small feeling of anxiety bubbles in the pit of your stomach when you pull the device out and see Mijoo’s name on your screen. It’s a short and simple message, Amazing spread, great feedback. Keep it up Y/N.
Jungkook sees you grinning to yourself, pressing the device to your chest lightly before locking it again and placing it on your lap. “Good news?”
You nod at that, “Yeah, my boss just sent me a good job text.”
“I’m telling you, she secretly loves you and her world would fall apart if you weren’t there to help her. This is just her moment of realization.” He’s giving you the cutest smile, and he’s about to keep going, already having a novel ready to gush about how amazing you are at your job but his phone sounds off next.
He hesitates to answer but you motion for him to accept the call so he does. He has to place the call on speaker since he’s started to drive already, “JK?” A voice fills the sound of the car.
“Yugyeom, whats up brother?”
A laugh sounds out from the speaker, “What do you mean whats up, your face is plastered all around Seoul from what I can see. Can’t walk more than 30 feet without seeing all of you on a magazine stand or on some girls phone screen.”
At that, you can’t control the smile that spreads across your face, looking to the side and seeing Jungkook once again had the giddiest expression on his face. “What can I say? There’s no escaping me.”
Yugyeom laughs again, “Honestly how did you guys manage to pull this off?”
Theres a beat of silence, Jungkook nibbling on his lip before his arm reaches over the center console and rests on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, “It’s all thanks to my girlfriend.” You can practically hear the intake of breath from the other line, no doubt Yugyeom was about to start firing questions out before Jungkook interjected, “Who can hear everything you’re saying because you’re on speaker.”
“Noted.” You laugh quietly to yourself, “well tell your girlfriend-”
“Y/N.” He interrupted again.
“Y/N, right, tell Y/N she’s currently winning the title of best girlfriend. Anyways, I gotta go. I’ll see you in Busan?”
Jungkook confirmed he would and ended the call, suddenly looking very nervous and you know why. Your hands comes down to grasp his thats still on your thigh, you slip your fingers underneath his palm and weave your fingers together, “So, I’m your girlfriend now huh?”
And now his face is warming up, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks in embarrassment. If he’s being honest, he’s been calling you his girlfriend to all of his friends for a few weeks now even though he hasn’t technically asked.
He lifts your clasped hands and brings them to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on the back of your hand before bringing them back down to rest on the center console, “Please?” He very cutely mumbles out.
“Jungkook, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
His body sags into the drivers seat in relief, his head falling back momentarily, “Thank god because I kinda told my mom you were my girlfriend already when I face timed her earlier.”
That just makes this warmth blossom in your chest and slowly spread throughout your whole body and you can only giggle to yourself as you give his hand another squeeze and enjoy the drive back to your place.
When you finally do get to your place Jungkook instantly orders take out before saying he’ll be back right back, choosing to go to the convenience store right outside your apartment complex because you both really need alcohol to properly celebrate this magazine spread.
Its still relatively early in the day, the sun only starting to set but you decide to get comfy. You switch into an oversized dark grey shirt and a pair of shorts that your shirt manages to cover and when Jungkook walks back in with bags of alcohol he acknowledges it, “Is this your way of tempting me?”
You look down at your exposed legs, lifting your shirt up slightly to show your shorts with a smile, “Are you telling me its this easy to tempt you?”
He grunts as he sets the bags down on your kitchen table, never taking his eyes off you, “When its you tempting me of course.”
“Mm,” you hum to yourself in thought, plopping onto the couch with a grin, slowly inching your shirt up to once again expose more of your legs, “so then should I throw away all the lingerie I have?”
You only laugh harder when his eyes bulge out, his hands already coming up to protest when your intercom system buzzes to inform you of your delivery downstairs. Jungkook tries to sputter out a sentence in defense but you just point at the intercom, “Can you let him in please?”
He groans and nods before buzzing the delivery man inside the building. He wants to pounce on you at this very moment, you’re just sitting there with your legs folded in front of you, looking comfortable and nonchalant but your thighs are teasing him and he just wants to bite and lick his way up them to your center.
It’s not until your front door buzzes that he’s snapped out of his wet dream of defiling you on your couch. Jungkook begrudgingly turns around and opens the door, you’re covered by the slab of wood so the delivery man is none the wiser to the fact that you’re now lifting your hips up to drag your shorts off of your body.
The sound of rustling has Jungkook turning around, his eyes widening up when you kick off the fabric, your shirt now pulled up to your stomach, showcasing the cute black panties you were currently wearing. When your fingers hook around them as well, Jungkook chokes and closes the door some more to further shield you.
You hold back the laugh you desperately want to let out when you hear him nervously talking to the man, hurrying up the transaction and shutting the door just as you finish sliding off the cotton material off of your legs.
With the door now shut, Jungkook fully turns to you now, your legs are resting innocently on your coffee table, your finger trailing up and down your thigh and over your stomach. The way your legs are placed he can’t see your exposed core but just knowing you’re bare from the waist down has his blood rushing to his cock and he groans.
The bags in his hands rustle as he rushes to set them on top of your table, giving you a glare because you’re not playing fair. How do you expect him to focus on this food now with you sitting on the couch, you’re the only meal he feels like devouring at the moment.
“You’re playing dirty.”
“Am I?” You question with a smile, eyes following him as he rounds the table to get closer to you. His eyes are boring into yours now, a small shake of his head is the only answer he gives you when he reaches the coffee table. Its the only piece of furniture separating you two so he has no qualms about gripping the edge of it and yanking it back completely.
A gasp leaves your lips when your feet thunk onto the floor, the wooden material being yanked away from you as Jungkook hauled it back with a grunt. Now that its no longer in the way he stands inches from you, looking down at your slouched frame, the material of your shirt had slid back down to cover you up and that just wouldn’t do.
You watch on silently when he drops to his knees in front of you, his lips curling up into a smirk when his fingers touch your skin, gently rubbing the skin above your knees and chuckling when your skin breaks out in goosebumps.
“What are you doing?” Your voice is barely a whisper, waiting to see what he would do next. The way he’s staring at you makes that obvious but you needed him to say something first.
His fingers reach the hem of your shirt, toying with the fabric, “I’m going to eat, if thats okay with you.”
He lifts his gaze from your skin back to your eyes, a smile gracing his face when you nod your head at him, “Yeah, perfectly okay.”
Thats all he needs, a squeal leaving you when his hands hook underneath your thighs and yank you down further until your butt reached the edge of the couch, your shirt bunching up around you and giving him a small peak of your center.
Your fingers instinctively grip your shirt, tugging the material higher up your body to give him a clear view. A teasing smirk is sent his way when he looks up at you, his eyes narrowing in accusation, “Like I said, you’re not playing fair.”
“Fair shmair, or should we actually eat our chicken before it gets cold?” Jungkook pouts at you even though he knows you’re just poking fun, a scoff leaving his lips when you bring your foot closer to nudge your toes against his chest with a giggle.
“I’m inches from your pussy, wanting to make you feel good, amazing even, and you wanna think about chicken?” He huffs playfully.
One of your hands leaves from its place holding your shirt, reaching forward to slip through his newly dyed red strands, twisting a chunk of it until it curls on his head.
Being the ever competitive person he is, he does you one better, his finger coming up to pinch the skin of your thigh like a child, a smile replacing the adorable pout on his lips when you yelp in shock, your hand moving to swat at his.
“Ow! Now who’s not playing fair?”
Adding insult to injury he has the audacity to snort, “Fair shmair, wanna make you feel good.”
A laugh spills out of you when he starts obnoxiously pressing sloppy kisses onto your thighs, the small huffs of his added laughter hitting your skin as he trails up towards your center, “Jungkook!” You chortle, squirming around from the ticklish feeling.
It’s not until the the sloppy kisses turn into gentle licks, then a soft suck as he reaches your clit that the tone of his name turns into a soft sigh instead.
“Oh, Jungkook.” It comes out playful, a low rasp in your voice as you sigh out and let your body sag into your cushions. He hums in content, his tongue swirling around your clit in a tantalizing manner. His eyes move up to stare at you and sees that your head is pushed back into the dark blue fabric of your couch, your eyes shut and a cheeky smile on your face due to his ministrations.
The chicken was definitely out of your mind now, a victory for Jungkook if he’d say so himself.
His hands haul your thighs higher onto his shoulders, his fingers urging you to tighten your hold on him, push your heels into his back, anything at all and you don’t disappoint.
Your thighs grip the sides of his head a little tighter as you groan out at the way his tongue slithers between your folds, the subtle roll of your hips being welcomed by him as he dragged the flat of his tongue up your slit, collecting the arousal that coated your lips.
One of his hands comes forward, his fingers spreading your folds apart as he spits onto your pussy, his saliva coating your folds as he rubs his spit around. A surprised moan fills the air when he sucks your clit back into his mouth, savoring the way you taste on his tongue. His hands grip your thighs tighter as he hums against you, his lips puckered around your skin as he sucks gently.
“Hmm, is this your way of trying to secure another cover spread?” You tease, your eyes opening up to stare at him while your heels push him closer to you with a giggle.
Jungkook pulls away with a wet smack, his lips glimmering as he grins at you, “That depends, is it working?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, bringing your hand back to his hair to twirl another strand. His eyes flutter shut when you give a soft tug, goosebumps flaring on his body at the sensation, “maybe.”
He lets himself bask in the feeling of you playing with his hair, ignoring the way you impatiently press your heels into the middle of his back. For someone who was trying to act like you weren’t affected, you were doing a pretty shit job at it.
“Jungkook.” You finally whine, the pleading tone in your voice making his lip curl up into a smirk, his eyes opening up and squinting at you.
“What?” He jokes, softly blowing cool air onto your exposed pussy and smiling like a child when it made a shiver run through your body. “Do you not wanna eat the chicken now then or?” He continues, eyes full of mischief thinking you’re about to start begging him.
But oh no, you weren’t a begger, if you wanted something you’d go out and grab it for yourself. So thats exactly what you do, loosening your legs from his shoulders and reaching forward to hook your hands underneath his armpits. Theres a split second of confusion that clouds his face when you recklessly haul him up from between your legs as if his muscle mass was something you could easily drag around.
Jungkook takes a brief moment to acknowledge how hot it was that you were manhandling him around, but only a moment because with the way you yank him up his hand clambers onto the back of the sofa as to no crush you when you force him nearly on top of you. The look on your face has a laugh threatening to escape him when he sees the clear frustration etched onto your features.
“Shut up about the chicken.” You growl, cupping his face and yanking it towards your own, your lips slotting together in a messy kiss. Jungkook wants to laugh, so badly, but the way your tongue slips into his mouth, softly wrapping around his own before pulling back and sucking on his lower lip, the laughter fizzles away.
“Baby,” he tries to mumble in between kisses, his free hand scoping underneath you to try to haul you up from the awkward position you’ve put the two of you in, “Y/N.” He tries again, being muffled by the way you squish his cheeks, his lips puckers out in a way that almost prevents him from kissing you back but that doesn’t stop you from planting them on him as if you’ll never be able to again.
“Butterfly,” he attempts a third time, the word being almost indecipherable but you hear that loud and clear, pulling half an inch away from his swollen lips with a hum of interest, your eyes half lidded and locked on his.
“Here, let me,” he scoops you up and properly arranges you on the couch, your head resting on the cushion by the arm rest while he slots on top of you.
That laugh of his finally bubbles out when you impatiently try to go back to kissing him, his nose scrunching up when your lips miss his mouth entirely, landing on his cheek messily, “You’d rather make out than have me eat your pussy?” He quips, letting his resolve crumble when he starts to kiss you back.
It’s a change of pace, gentle presses of his lips against yours, simmering down the urgency you feel inside until its a slow roll of the tides crashing in. He feels the way you smile against him, your left leg hooking over his hip and bringing him flush to you, “I’d rather fuck you.”
Oh.
Jungkook hums against your mouth, this wouldn’t be the first time you two were intimate, having been on the receiving end of pleasure a few times, during the movie nights you would have and he’d somehow find himself between your legs halfway through whatever motion picture you decided to put on. Jungkook was absolutely a giver, loving to see you falling apart at the hands of him. But this felt different, with you acting so desperate as if you weren’t trying to play hard to get minutes ago, with your lust filled eyes and kiss swollen lips.
It’s not lost on Jungkook, but he loves it too much to comment on it. Loves the way you rut your hips against his, the friction of his jeans on your exposed core making you groan against his mouth in an almost filthy way.
And god does he want to make you feel good, you’ve done so much for him, became such an important part of his life in the span of knowing each other. The infinite amount of selfless acts you’ve done for him is more than he thinks he could ever repay you for, but if you wanted to fuck him then that was a good enough place to start.
“Are you sure?” he manages to ask in between your assault of kisses, the teasing tone to his voice is gone now so you pull back from him, letting him properly catch his breath as he stares down at you.
His wide eyes bore into yours, searching for any sense of hesitation but he finds none. A nod of your head confirms that, your fingers softly caressing the skin of his cheeks as you grin, “Yeah I’m sure, I want you Jungkook.”
Jungkook smiles at that, eyes crinkling up in the most endearing way, “You have me Butterfly.” The sweet nickname he had given you months ago makes you smile right back at him, a silent conversation passing between the two of you as you stare at each other inches apart.
You had him, he was yours, and you knew he meant it.
It becomes a flurry of clothes right after, Jungkook stripping out of the layers he has on with your help, his jacket being tossed behind your couch while you nearly popped the buttons off of his top in your haste to take it off, the red material joining the heap of growing garments on the floor.
“Fuck,” You sigh dreamily when he yanks his pants down, his broad thighs coming out into the world and its almost insulting that he has them caged inside denim all day. A phrase you had told Jungkook months ago pops back into your mind, you mentioned his thighs made great cushions, “wanna ride them.”
That makes Jungkook pause, one leg free from its confines while the other ankle was trapped at the end, the damn skinny jeans being a battle to take off. “What?”
“Your thighs, wanna ride them. Make myself cum on them.”
Jungkook doesn’t know if he hit his head and was currently dreaming because that has to be the absolute hottest words he has ever heard come out of your mouth. The image of you rutting against his thighs, desperate to get yourself off, maybe wearing one of his baggy band shirts as you did so made his aching cock twitch in his briefs.
A short giggle leaves you when you notice it, “You liked that huh?”
He glares at you as he yanks his pants off his trapped ankle, balling them up and tossing the jeans down like a basketball, now standing in just his black briefs, his cock tenting the fabric of it.
“Y/N,” he whines with a pout as he steps closer to you once more, “you can’t say that shit to me.”
Another laugh bubbles out, your hands hooking under the hem of your shirt and sliding the loose material off of your body. Its discarded behind you without a care, your tits out on full display as you stretch across your couch teasingly, “Why?”
He groans at the way you’re sprawled out, arms lifted above your head casually with your back slightly arched to allow you to rest your head on the arm rest. Jungkook thought if the phrase paint me like one of your french girls held any real meaning to him it would come to play in this very moment. He wanted to capture this image and hang it on his living room wall, a tangible memory of just how delectable you looked.
“Because, now all I’m thinking about is how hot that would be.”
You make grabby hands at him after he slides out of his underwear, as if you’ve tied an invisible rope to his body and guided him to you, Jungkook makes his way closer. His cock is fully free now, bobbing slightly when he reaches the couch, but he doesn't go further than that. Instead his hands scoop under you, hauling you up much like you had done to him earlier, your knees folded over one arm while the other cradled your upper back.
“Jungkook!” You shout in surprise, your hand cupping his chest in an attempt to stabilize yourself from the sudden action.
“I’m not fucking you for the first time on your couch–“
“But it's made of velvet.” You joke, laughing when he rolls his eyes at you with a smile.
“Even more of a reason not to, good luck cleaning up whatever ungodly fluids get on it.”
He carries you across the living room, his foot nudging open your bedroom door, the eclectic style of your living room flowing into this space as well and Jungkook smiles to himself at how prominent your personality lies within your home.
“How dirty.” You jest, laughing when he drops you onto your bed, your hands propping yourself up to stare at him as he kneels onto the bed after you.
Jungkook smirks at you as he crawls towards you, a soft laugh filling the air when he sees you slowly inch back from him, “You think thats dirty?” His eyebrows cock up as he inches closer, enjoying the way you bite your lower lip as you take him in, “Just wait until I’m done with you Butterfly.”
The way Jungkook says that, with his eyes glazing over with lust, the tip of his tongue running along the bottom of his teeth as he prowls forward, sounds promising. You knew Jungkook had a way with his mouth but he seemed extra determined today to make you feel good, maybe it was the overwhelming joy he felt about the cover spread but you didn’t mind it.
“Mm, show me.” One hand comes up towards his shoulders, his proximity allowing your fingertips to trail along his skin down onto his chest, tracing the simple script he has marked on it.
“You actually gonna let me this time?”
You purse your lips, slowly leaning back until you’re once again flat on the bed, Jungkook hovering over you with his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of you.
“Yeah, i’ll let you.”
His head tilts slightly at your words, a curious smile gracing his lips in an almost taunting way. Jungkook clearly had something up his sleeve and when he decides to flop onto his side next to you, with his head near your headboard and that same smile spreading further across his face, it spells it out for you.
“Come here then.” He motions with his hands, slight rolls of his fingers in a come hither action leading you to his face and you have never wanted anything more.
You crawl over to him, swing your left leg over his body until your core is hovering above his face, your position allowing you to see the way his hard cock rests against his stomach.
Jungkook’s fingers trail up your thighs until they reach the juncture of where they meet your hips, softly digging into your flesh as he eases you down towards his awaiting mouth.
The small sighs of his breath hit your skin, a feeling of exhilaration spreading throughout you at being in this position with him. His thumb softly caresses your skin as he pulls you even closer, his nose nudging against your folds slightly. A soft whimper is let out when his tongue trails up your slit, short and gentle licks swirling around your clit to get you started.
When his tongue parts your folds, softly sinking into your entrance, you hunch forward, your arms seeking purchase on his hips to hold you steady. The noisy ways he slurps at your cunt, licking up any ounce of wetness coating your folds and dripping out of you has you moaning out, your jaw dropping slightly as he tugs you further onto his face.
Jungkook is lost in you, surrounded by your scent and the way you taste on his tongue, the soft moans of his name filling his ears and lulling him into a trance as he pleasure you, he doesn’t register the way you lean forward. Your sights were set on his cock, a small puddle of precum pooling around his tip, a soft shade of pink with the prettiest veins surrounding it. It was just beginning to find its place in your mouth.
The weight of it feels heavy in your hand as you wrap your fingers around it, the slight throbbing you feel being a clear indicator of just how much he enjoyed pleasing you.
He groans against your cunt when you give him an experimental pump, your fingers wrapping around the base of his length, a slight twist in your wrist as you come up towards his tip. The leaking beads of precum coat your palm, leaving a sticky trail in its path as you repeat the motion once more, the slight huffs of breath are felt against you as Jungkook tries to focus on you and you only.
Its not until he feels the softness of your lips against his tip that he finally pulls away from your dripping core, “Butterfly what are you doing?” He rasps out, his fingers digging into your flesh harder when you pop the tip of his aching cock into your mouth, soft kitten like licks on his mushroom head that has his stomach caving in.
“Making you feel good too.” Is all you mumble out before taking him all the way in. He feels like the wind gets knocked out of him when you sink fully down in one go, the tip of his length nudging against the back of your throat with no signs of resistance from you and Jungkook groans.
His head is thrown back against your pillows at the feeling of your warm mouth enveloping his entire cock, the wet noises following suit only making his toes curl. You suckle his length when you slide back up, hollowing your cheeks to suck for a moment before sinking back down with a wet slurp.
“Fuck.” He groans out, lifting his head back up to once again meet your center.
His lips wrap around your messy clit, giving a harsh suck as one of his hands trails off your thigh and towards your center. His fingers circle your entrance, coated in a film of your arousal before he sinks a digit in, feeling your walls tighten around it as he starts to thrust into you, intent on stretching you open for his cock. You were absolutely soaked, his mouth covered in your wetness and he wanted to drown in you, with your thighs caging him in as you quivered on top of him.
A small hiss leaves your mouth when he sinks a second finger in, scissoring them apart before fucking them into you with more purpose, distracting you enough to pop off of his cock, leaving your fingers wrapped around it loosely as you hunch forward. Your oncoming release creeps up on you, making every nerve in your body tingle as you feel it building up.
“Jungkook, fuck-” You whine out, a subtle roll of your hips starting up that he welcomes whole heartedly, “I’m cumming, shit-” his fingers urge you to roll onto his tongue faster as he uses his other hand to continue fucking into you. A final roll of his tongue against your bundle of nerves is what sends you over the edge, a sob of his name filling the air as you cum.
Your knees give out on you, dropping you further onto his face but he has no complaints, moaning in content and continuing to slurp against your pussy, his tongue flicking against your clit as you come down, your skin prickling with pleasure as the sparks spread out on your body.
Jungkook slips his fingers out of you slowly, letting you catch your breath for a brief moment as your hearing returns and the room comes back into focus, the small spots in your vision clearing up as you float back down.
When you move to properly sit up as to not suffocate him thats when his vice like grip returns, both hands digging into your hips harder than before and forcing you back onto his face with a short laugh that showed he was up to no good.
“Nngh, Kook,” you groan when he reattaches his lips around your clit, strong pulsating sucks flaring up the tight coil in your stomach once more. The after effects of your orgasm being too fresh in your system, the tingles spreading out throughout your body as he continued the torturous rhythm he had going, hurdling you to another release embarrassingly fast.
“Shit, so good.” You mewl and his eyes shut, there was nothing Jungkook would love more than to hear you pant and moan about how good he made you feel for the rest of his life.
He feels your thighs tense above him as your second orgasm rushes over you in a more calming feeling than the first. Your bones feel like jello now, a warmth flowing across your limbs as you moan his name out like a mantra.
Jungkook finally pulls back with a sigh, his lower face covered in a sheen of your cum that his tongue comes out to lick up. “Fucking delicious.” He groans out, releasing your thighs and giving your ass a gentle slap.
You let yourself flop off of him, your knees nearly knocking into his head but all he can do is laugh at the fucked out look on your face as you try to catch your breath again on the bed, your limbs twisted about in a careless manner.
He sits himself up, his cock once again resting against his stomach and making the small puddle of precum near his belly button drip down. His fingers trace up your quivering thighs, enjoying the subtle twitching he had caused with a smirk on his face.
“You still wanna fuck me baby?”
Your eyes flutter open, not even realizing when you had shut them in the first place, but when you focus back in Jungkook is hovering above you with a sweet smile on his face as if he hadn’t let you get a taste of the good life just now.
“After that? Of course I do.”
Your legs fall open as you say that, leaving your messy folds on display for him, covered in his spit and your cum. “You see how messy you are already, is my Butterfly that excited for my cock?”
A whimper leaves your mouth when he gently slaps his cock over your pussy, the head of it nudging against your sensitive clit when he starts to rut against you. His thick length spreads your folds apart, your arousal coating his aching cock every time he thrusts forward.
“Jungkook.” You cry, utterly desperate as your hips roll up into his to match his motions.
“I got you baby,” he grunts out, forcing himself to pull away from you. His eyes start to roam your room, looking at either night stand on the sides of your bed and you grin when you realize what he’s searching for.
“Left side.” You point towards the top drawer and he smiles, reaching out to pull the drawer open and slip out the squared packet he was in search of. He tears it open with his teeth, discarding the foil aside as he slips the condom on, a small groan escaping him as he squeezes his length on the way down.
“Fuck, gonna make you feel so good.” He sighs as he nudges his cock head against your entrance, a teasing motion as he grasps his length in his hand, circling around it.
“Please Jungkook.” You plead, your thighs spreading further apart as he shushes you gently, easing his cock into you inch by inch. The girth of him is spearing you open, your pussy spreading apart as he drives his cock forward until he bottoms out in one go, the both of you gasping out when he sinks in to the hilt.
His hips are flush against you, his palms placed on your inner thighs to keep you spread open for him, his eyes shut softly when your sensitive walls flutter around his length. Jungkook had found his new favorite view point, looking down at you, seeing his thick cock splitting you open as you lay beneath him with your fingers clutching your sheets, your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as you pleaded for him to start fucking you.
He smirks above you, replacing his hands to rest by your sides on the mattress as he rolls his hips back, beginning a rough pace as he pounds into you, every thrust of his hips making a cry bubble out of you as his cock curved just right inside of your pussy.
“God,” you gasped out, throwing your head back as he hit your g-spot just right, your cunt spasming around him every time he thrust back in, “so good.”
He moans in response as he leans forward his mouth enveloping one of your nipples as he does so, swirling his tongue around your bud as he fucks you like his life depended on it. Your hands tangle in his hair once more, freely yanking and tugging on it just the way he liked it, the slight sting in his scalp surging his hips forward with more force.
Jungkook releases your nipple with a slight pop, your pebbled bud covered in a coat of his spit as he looks up at you, seeing your face screwed up in pleasure. He can feel the way your walls pulsate around his cock, your thighs quivering as your third orgasm approaches.
“Fuck baby,” he groans out, his head leveling out with yours as he rocks into you, your hands wrapping around his torso to help you ground yourself as your body gets jostled up with every thrust of his hips.
“You close?” He whispers into your ear, one of his hands coming up towards his mouth, his tongue licking a broad stripe onto his palm before he snakes it down your torso, connecting his fingers with your sensitive clit.
A choked gasp leaves your mouth when he starts to rub tight circles on it, your cunt tightening even more around his length as he does so.
“Shit, y-yes–“ you practically sob, your nails digging into his back, hearing him hiss at the slight pain. “Jungkook,” you plead out, your eyes locking onto his, your brows furrowed together as your mouth dropped open.
“What do you want love?” He wonders, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before pulling back, not stopping the intoxicating roll of his hips. A small shudder flows through him as he feels his own orgasm make its presence known, the way your walls are sucking him in making it harder for him to focus on anything else.
“Can you–“ you get cut off with a moan, your thighs lifting up to hook your legs around his waist, desperately trying to tug him closer to you, “spit in my mouth, please.”
Jungkook groans at your request, his thrusts stuttering slightly as he nods vigorously, “Fuck, anything you want Butterfly.”
You think you could actually cry with the way his cock fucks into you, your toes curling in pleasure, more so when you drop your mouth open further for him. His eyes are hazy with lust as he stares down at you, mouth open and waiting for him to fill up and he swears he can cum just from this visual.
Jungkook’s lips pucker up as he collects spit from the back of his throat, letting it pool behind his lips before he opens up and lets the drool pass onto your mouth, the glob of his spit sitting on your tongue for a moment before you pull your tongue back into your mouth and swallow. Your eyes roll back into your mouth with a moan before sticking it back out for more, “So hot,” he groans out as he repeats his actions again, his fingers not letting up as they stroke your clit.
Your breath hitches in your throat as he starts to fuck deeper into you, his cock brushing against the sensitive spot inside of you that has you keening, “Fuck r-right there, nngh please Kook.” You whine out and hes not going to deny you, maintaining the angle that has you delirious on your bed, your body quivering underneath his as your orgasm finally crashes down over you, setting your body ablaze as he fucks you through it.
His fingers pull away from your overly sensitive clit, hearing the small gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as the pleasure lights you up. Your eyes fall shut once more, bright spots flashing behind your lids as your pussy spasms around him, a small gasp of your name leaving his lips as you milk the orgasm out of him.
Jungkook’s hips lose their rhythm, his mind heady with pleasure as he starts fucking into you desperately. His hips smack into the back of your thighs, forcing himself deeper into you as he cums hard, emptying himself into the condom inside of you with a deep groan of your name, soft pants following suit as the pleasure fizzles out within him, lulling him into a calm sense of clarity as he looks down at you.
You’re yanked back to the present when he starts to plant kisses on your face, gently bringing you back as he shallowly thrusts into you until fully satisfied.
“You okay?” He questions softly, pressing a kiss to your nose before moving onto your cheeks and then your mouth.
“Mm, yeah.” You mewl, letting your legs unhook from his waist as he pulls out of you slowly, the feeling of being empty making a pout form on your lips. Jungkook snickers when he sees it, pressing a hard kiss against it as he laughs and sits himself up.
As he’s sat on his haunches his eyes are glued to your swollen cunt, covered in your orgasm and the lube of the condom, your quivering thighs coming together to cover the view from him with a short giggle.
“Oh are you shy now? All of a sudden.” He teases, his hand playfully swatting at your thighs before he stands up and slides his condom off, tying off the end and tossing it into the small bin by your night stand.
“No,” you laugh as you prop yourself up, “but with that face you were making I had to hide the goods before you got any other ideas.”
He joins you in your laughter, his hands reaching forward to yank you towards him, your face pressed against his chest as he stood at the edge of your bed. His arms are wrapped around you, the rumble of his laughter being felt from your proximity.
“Hey,” you start out softly, pulling your face away from him, a sly smile spreading out that he eyes inquisitively, “can we go eat that chicken now?”
He scowls at you immediately, his facade being cracked as his lips curl up into a smile, a devious glint in his eyes that you spot instantly. A squeal leaves your lips when you feel his fingers dig into your back, swatting him away from you as you get off the bed with a laugh.
Jungkook stomps behind you as you exit the bedroom on your shaky legs, entering the living room and bending forward to scoop up your previously discarded shirt from the floor and putting it back on to cover the goods you knew Jungkook would be after.
You hear his footsteps behind you as you approach the kitchen, your hands busying themselves as you untie the plastic bag holding the food you two had ordered, pretending to not give him any attention as he walked your way, still fully naked in all of his glory.
He shakes his head slightly when you pull out a piece of chicken and take a bite, your eyes squinting up at him as you smile around it, “You’re never gonna play fair huh?” He questions as he stands beside you, plucking out the chicken from your hand and taking a bite of his own.
“Fair shmair–“ you yelp out when his palm reaches out and smacks your bare ass, the slap sounding out in your otherwise quiet apartment.
“Remind me to make sure we get our own room in Busan.” He smirks as he continues munching on the chicken, fighting the urge to laugh at the face you give him, acting as if you weren’t already having the same thoughts he was.
“Yeah, what do you think we’re gonna have a fuck fest?” You joke, as you sort through the alcohol bag he also brought, pulling out a can of beer and cracking it open.
He extends the half eaten chicken towards your lips, offering you another bite which you take. “Oh I know we’re gonna have a fuck fest. Are you joking, good luck trying to escape my glorious dick after tonight.”
You nearly choke on your drink as you laugh, your own hand reaching out to deliver a swift smack onto his own bare ass, his skin smarting as he yelps with a chuckle, his palm soothing the burn on his cheek.
“Pervert,” you cackle, grabbing another piece of chicken as you saunter away from him, “but text Namjoon now please.”
His jaw drops when you wiggle your hips at him, another laugh leaving your lips when you see him take off after you, the both of you bounding back into your room for a round two. Busan was definitely going to be a fuck fest if Jungkook had anything to do with it.
#goldenclosetnet#btsghostie#btswritingcafe#yoonkooknetwork#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook angst#jungkook#jeon jungkook#new
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Anon said: tried to read through all your request rules, but I didnt specifically see which Characters you write for. If you do, could you write for Porco helping his S/o sleep? I have super bad insomnia most days, and I just really want something fluffy with Porco...just cuddles or stories or something. If you dont write for Porco though could you switch it with a AoT character you do write for, I'm not really picky. Thank you so much in advance! 🥺💗
Porco helping you sleep
{Porco x reader | tw:none | sleep help, fluff | canon }
{ "The Night School" C.1660-C.1665 By Gerrit Dou 1613-1675 }
Unmoving shadows cast into the empty white walls, slightly flickering with the flame on the white candle sitting on the nightstand. Half lidded eyes observe their small movements for they're the only interesting thing in this empty hotel room you've been assigned.
Your beige uniform tucked into the small closest with a single hanger inside, the armband hanging on the closest door for easy reach. The squeak of the spring mattress chirping up whenever you moved to flip your too stiff pillow.
Judging by the amount of melted wax collecting on the bottom of the candle, you've been awake for far too long.
This isn't the first time this has happened, you're used to getting acquainted with the room's walls and shadowy furniture.
Sleep has abandoned you long ago, its friend insomnia visiting you daily instead. Only leaving every week or so to remind you of what you could never have, taunting almost.
You've tried to force yourself to sleep really, did every known trick in the book, you even tried mediation like Zeke has been preaching to you about, but to no avail. so you've started making peace with the thing, you know at least using the night time to get things done since you're not getting rest either way.
Books were your first friend, for staring at the walls could only be entertaining for so long, but now with your stash of books miles away back home, you're left with nothing else to do.
The nightstand drawer only contained an emergency gun with several bullets inside, and the pocket knife under your pillow wasn't interesting enough.
Getting up from the bed, you picked up the candle before slowly inching the creaky door open. Maybe a glass of water could help, who cares that this is your third time going for water in the last hour? Well hydration is important after all, or so you tried to bargain for an excuse to stretch your legs.
Attempting your best to glide through the old wooden boards without as much as a squeak, you headed towards the kitchen, passing through several other bedrooms in the process, probably all deep in dream land already.
Everything was too quiet, the sound of water filling the glass was the only thing interrupting the silence, its cool feeling going down your dry throat helped you a bit.
Drinking down what you can, you decided to take the rest with you back, a good excuse for a trip to the bathroom later. Although as you turned, a figure was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and staring at you.
"Isn't it too early for breakfast?" Porco said, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned, "you should get some rest while you can, we're getting thrown in the front trenches tomorrow."
Just the mention of it made your stomach roll at the thought of staying in a muddy hole for days, the smell of gunpowder and yelling of soldiers, not to mention the crowded train rides back home.
"I know, it's just…" you stared at the water moving inside your glass while tilting it, "one of those days, you know?"
eyes narrowing with his eyebrows pulling down in concentration, even Porco's sleep clouded mind could recognise the heavy bags under your eyes. The ride here used all of your energy and now you're too tired to even sleep.
Feeling an unpleasant weight on his chest, he wasn't sure what to say as he approached you, awkwardly leaning against the sink, a heavy sigh left him.
"You know, you should bother me more often, I don't mind it." His gentle tone was followed by a melancholic smile, "let's just...go to bed."
With that his hand wrapped around your wrist, loosely at first like he was reluctant about it, before it got more secure once you didn't pull away.
…
The old door gave out a creek as it closed behind you, the room dimmer than you left it with the candle you're carrying almost burning out.
Looking at the small bed with a single pillow, you wondered how the two grown people would fit in it and judging by the frustrated look Porco was eyeing it with, he must be thinking the same.
Looking at him, your mind wondered back to all the battles you've fought together. For some reason the superiors always seemed more strick and harsh with him, especially after the paradise mission was launched.
Belitting and nagging, carelessly throwing him in risky situations.
Your grip tightened around the water glass, feeling growing thickness in your throat. "Hey...it's okay you can go to your room, you need sleep." You said moving past him to sit on the bed, "I'll be fine."
"Should've thought of that before waking me up, now scoot over." He said, rising an eyebrow and stepping closer.
"I didn't wake you up, you're just a light sleeper." Laying down, you stretched your limbs filling the bed, "there's no room, it won't fit."
Silence filled the room for a while, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, "Oh really? Well…"
One second, you were laying on the mattress while staring at his stubborn expression in confusion, the next a pair of arms was lifting you up as he stole your place before dropping you on him. His arm circled your waist not trusting that you won't pull away
"I made it fit." he looked at you with smugness in his eyes
His warm skin felt comforting against yours, contrasting with the cold room air, you could hear his slowing heartbeat with being so close to his chest, your legs slowly tangling to fit under the blanket covering you.
Apparently that's as far as his genius plan went, because after that an awkward silence filled the room.
"So...you made it fit huh?" You couldn't help but say, a grin slowly spreading on your face.
Porco blinked in response, tilting his head, before his eyes stilled as his ears flushed. "Fucking god, you're such a-" his attempt to scold you was interrupted by a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.
Having a contagious laugh, soon enough you too joined him.
After it died down, the atmosphere was replaced by a much more relaxed one as his hold on you softened, more intimate than the previous one.
"When I was a kid, i used to have trouble sleeping- well more like i was too stubborn to fall asleep." Porco said, trailing his finger up your back soothingly, "and since Marcel was stuck sharing a room with me, he'd tell me stories to get me to fall asleep."
"What kind of stories?"
"...if you tell this to anyone I'm reporting you to the higher ups you for treason, they were flower stories." Clearing his throat, you could feel his heartbeat rising under you,
Closely watching your reaction, Porco continued after some seconds. "now I'm not calling you a kid nor do i think it's as simple, i just think...we should give it a chance."
With the heaviness of the blanket above you and warmth of his body underneath you, it was hard to refuse his request, especially with the way he looked at you so earnestly.
You agreed, and felt his other hand reach to pull up the blanket more, tucking you protectively between his body and the soft fabric.
"This first one is called...well i don't remember what names Marcel gave them, but it's about poppies."
Crimson red bringers of eternal sleep, their crumbled petals and dark centers often found in the ancient tombs of soldiers.
As the mother of nature, Demeter, mourned and grieved from the betrayal of Zeus, it wasn't only the mortal realm in which death loomed at every corner, for her own mind was a tormenting prison of never ending suffering.
And so a droplet of her blood sprang and flourished to create a six petaled flower, easing her heartache if only for a moment as the poppy put her to sleep, numbing the pain.
Following in her trail was a red carpet of poppies, soon enough death and sleep themselves wore the flower, red crowns resting on top of Thanatos's held up head and one almost slipping from Hypnosi's leaning one as he dozed off. for eternal sleep was only another name for visiting the underworld.
A symbol of peace in resting and condolence for the loss of a loved one, became the poppy's role.
"This is why you'd often see them in people's front pockets whenever we return home." Porco said, the light slowly vanishing from the room as the candle burned itself out, the flame snuffed.
You've never questioned why a delivery of poppies would always be on the requirements in each returning celebration, it's just always been there.
Slow and easy breathes flew through you, lazily stretching your arms up till it met something soft. Porco seemed to tense as your fingers loosely combed through his hair, leaning into the touch after a while.
"Don't stop." He murmured, sleep clear in his voice as another yawn left him.
"Do you have any other stories?" Drowsiness sweeping through your mind, you buried your hed deeper against his neck, eyelids fluttering shut.
"Yeah just…" his hand stilled from behind you as he looked into space attempting to recall a memory, soon enough the soft stroking returned. "This one is about peony."
Named after none other than Paeon himself, these flowers lived up to their reputation of healing and honour, for they have their own story to tell.
How the peony came to be declared king of flowers.
During the Tang dynasty, empress Wu Zetian strolled through her garden. Frowning at the empty field of green covered in thick white blankets of snow, the harsh season not showing mercy for the plants.
With a new goal in mind to flip this dreadful looking graveyard of a garden, she set to defy nature for she is the ruler of the land and her word is law.
Per her majesty's order, all flowers shall bloom in the midst of winter's visit.
As the word travelled far, all the fairies in the land couldn't believe their ears, how could such delicate fragile petals grow amidst the storm and snow. For flowers only bloom in spring, how could we go against mother nature?
While merciless mother nature was cruel, she couldn't compare for the empress's strong rule. For the fairies feared for their wings as their knees shook in her presence.
When the sun shined again, it welcomed colourful fields of different flowers in full bloom. The empress was pleased with their sweet smell and proud colours, each one rivaling the other.
And yet, she stood still near one flower bed, eyes wide. The peony deified her words and stubbornly refused to open, only sticks and brittle leaves left in their place.
In a fit of rage, the empress banished the flower to a far away city, striping away their status.
Living up to their stubborn nature, the peony bloomed that spring the most beautiful flowers humans have ever seen, turning the city of Luoyang into a heavenly soft land as their petals danced through the wind.
But their beauty couldn't last long, for a hungry fire swallowed them all, under the order of the empress who turned their green to coal.
And yet to everyone's surprise, when the earth circled the sun again, the peonies were back in bloom. Springing from the ashes were their mesmerising big petals and soft colours.
In their respect, the fairies crowned them for their bravery as the ruler of the flowers, for wasn't it for their sacrifice the flowers wouldn't have been freed.
"They stayed on the right way, even if it meant going against the world." Porco's slurred words were half muffled against the pillow, head buried in it, his eyelids seemed to get too heavy for him to force them open again.
Turning his head to the side, you felt his lips press a light kiss against your forehead before whispering a goodnight, his hold still comfortably secure around you as if you might slip away.
Soon enough, you too drifted into sleep as only his soft snoring filled the room. The moon watching over both of you through the windows as her light barely reached inside.
And at this instant, you didn't think there was anywhere else in the world you'd rather be. Thoughts of what the future holds were pushed to the back of your mind next to the past, for the present is now and what a waste it would be not to bask in these rare moments of peace in this horrible world
#Porco🕯#sleep help🕯#fluff🕯#porco galliard#porco aot#porco x you#porco x reader#porco galliard x you#porco x y/n#aot#snk#aot x y/n#aot x reader#snk x reader#fluff#porco fluff#sleep help#canon aot🕯
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Six Weeks Into an Era
A sequel to Three Weeks Into an Era. Someone ages ago asked for a sequel. Blame them 👀💅🏾.
The plantation hidden deep into private land was an instant success and as reporters broadcasted nationally on the mass disappearance of white men over the age of 21 with an unfamiliar air of fear and a new sense of panic, no connection could be made between the disappearances and the new booming businesses due to the preexisting condition that is outsourcing factory labor. Erik and his crew were fat cats rolling in dough. Dante had been promoted to head of the all-male plantation as Erik floated from camp to camp, the latest camp being for women. It was 10 miles away from the first camp and nicknamed Camp Karen by the all-female team of overseers that supervised the property.
"PICK UP YOUR MACHETE AND SWING YOUR GOD DAMN ARM, BRIDGETTE," Kathy seethed turning bright pink under her frosty white bobbed hair. She'd been toiling in the high heat for three hours, the sun beating on her causing sweat to drip all down her chiffon blouse. She was soaked and pissed.
"You better listen to her, Bridgette," Shavon chuckled misting herself with her battery operated spray fan. "I'll keep y'all out here all day and night until all that sugarcane is harvested. You won't eat or sleep."
Bridgette was a twenty-four year old engaged yoga instructor and mother of one 2-yr-old according to her profile provided by Erik. Her favorite pastimes included yelling at people of color who she perceived to be immigrants and throwing around the N word at black service workers. She'd even gotten violent on numerous occasions. Now she was screaming to the top of her lungs in a sugarcane field, refusing to work despite the fact that she was holding up twelve other exhausted and angry white Karens who were all but frothing at the mouth . She picked up the machete and swung it wildly.
"I don't care if you hit them lice lizards you rode in with, bitch, but if you swing it this way I'll assume you're swinging at me and you WILL be taken down," Shavon eyed the sandy blonde and lanky woman ensuring she understood. As Bridgette began to cry and wail, the other women fussed amongst themselves, fed up and exhausted from the hold up of Bridgette not doing her part. "Oh do you not like her behavior??" They had a nerve. They were all at the plantation for similar offenses. Some for way worse.
Thirty minutes of tantrum rolled by and Shavon returned to the air conditioned tent for a cool drink of Gatorade while Alexis took over as the active overseer. Alexis wasted no words having watched the entire meltdown from afar in her chair. She pulled her whip and lashed Bridgette on the back to snap her into quick action.
"This is what your people did to my people, remember?! You bring it up all the time to black people when you're getting your nonfat lattes you must remember but in case you don't, let me remind you." With another snap of the whip across Bridgette's back, Bridgette started working in double-time. She needed to catch up on all the chopping she had not done. "PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT," Alexis yelled. "YEAH I CAN SCREAM TOO."
Alexis had originally been gentle, but truckloads of entitled and extremely racist white women had ruined that side of her. She stung Bridgette once more holding nothing back, the pain of her ancestors her driving force in that moment. "Do you know that it's estimated that 40% of slaveowners were white women? Yeah? We were currency for you.. A way for you to escape your sorry ass lot as a lesser counterpart to your white man and gain some type of freedom since you couldn't freely acquire land. You say it's the past yet you still view us as your step stool. Well not here, bitch. Pick up the pace."
Meanwhile, at the all-male camp, Overseer Dante kept his group of caucasians in line by threat of fire. He introduced what he called the gun line. If any of the men were to take so much as a step past the boundary of the plantation he'd be dropped on sight. "TRY IT MILK MUTANT. YOUR TOE WILL BE THE ONLY THING LEFT OF YOU," he yelled to a younger pale face with trouble in his eyes. He had yet to be broken, but it was a matter of time.
Erik was out with the truck on the hunt, ready to abduct new cattle based on a list of addresses and coordinates. The world had all but come to a stop, discussing the disappearances to the point that it was the main topic on all news stations and had been for a while. Pictures of socially high ranking white men were displayed from MSNBC to FOX. The president had declared a state of emergency. It was disgusting for Erik to witness considering the ratio of missing white men compared to black men. There had never been so much as a televised conference or lasting discussion regarding the disappearance of non-white people. Erik felt even more justified in his actions. Erik's team also felt just as justified.
"WHY CAN'T WE JUST GO HOME," Bridgette collapsed into the soil, shaking and crying, her portion of the harvest not near complete. "I just wanna go to take care of my SON!" Snot dripped down her top lip mixed with dirt, tears, and sweat.
"You think I give a damn about your little snotty nosed brat? When MY people, my literal great-grandmother was ripped away from her own child? Couldn't breastfeed her own child because she had to breastfeed a white woman's child? Cook and clean in a white woman's home to survive? You think I give a fuck about you? My great-grandmother was whipped by a white woman for being raped by the white husband. She went blinding one eye because of it. The same white women she cooked and cleaned for and raised her child. You think I'm supposed to give a damn about yours? Get the hell up," her top lip disappeared over her teeth as she reared the whip in a real threat once more. Bridgette scrambled to her feet, still sobbing as Alexis walked away back to the tent to collect herself.
"You okay?" Shavon had listened to the whole thing, sipping cold Gatorade in the cool air.
"I'm irritated, I just need to watch some Family Feud to get my mind off of it," she muttered dropping down to watch the small television.
"Girl don't let it get to you, you let that whip get to them ranch roaches and release that stress."
"I know, girl.. I know.." She propped her feet up with a cold beer in hand and Shavon returned to the field refreshed with a new idea in mind.
"Since SOME of you moon crickets don't wanna work there's gonna be some changes around here. Going forward, the last one to finish gets 10 lashes and a night sleeping in the hole. Hopefully that lights a fire under your meth addicted pink and red flat asses. We know who's sleeping in the hole tonight!"
Bridgette's angry shriek was at its loudest yet.
"That's for you Lexi," Shavon called to the tent with a proud grin. Alexis waved in grateful solidarity just as the familiar drop off truck rolled in.
"ERIK," Alexis exclaimed jumping up and fixing her hair to jog to the truck. It was him and he was tired and brooding as usual. "Hey, we've been keeping them busy on our side. Are you gonna stay?"
"Girl, let him out the truck," Shavon smirked from the side, prompting Alexis to stop blocking his door. She was overly excited as always and as always, Erik was uninterested.
"New shipment," he spoke to Shavon giving her the details on eight new women who could be heard screaming as soon as Erik lifted the sound proof gate. "Your problem now," he patted her shoulder with humor in his weary eyes. "Have fun."
#original#erik killmonger#killmonger#erik stevens#erik killmonger fanfiction#erik stevens au#black panther killmonger#black panther fanfiction#six weeks into an era
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Okay, so you said I could send an ask for headcanons about the childhoods of some specific merc(s)... I think I would really like to read your headcanons about Soldier’s and Engineer’s childhood :)
Thanks in advance and I hope your well.
Ooooh…I’ve been waiting for this! And thank you for being specific and not just saying “the rest of them.” Sometimes I get overwhelmed with nine specific mercs to write for. Your specifics are much appreciated.
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Soldier:
Soldier doesn’t talk very much about his childhood - whether it’s because something happened or he just doesn’t remember it, no one can tell. It’s nowhere in his file, either…he refused to do anything except tell fantastic tales of a fictional youth.
However, in a rare streak of almost lucidity, he spouted off the entirety of his younger years, much to the team’s surprise. Usually, if anyone asked directly, he changed the subject.
But now he described everything in vivid detail. And, with a bit of research from Miss Pauling, everything fell into place.
Apparently he had been born in a small military town in Georgia. His father was overseas, leaving he and his mother alone in their small yellow house.
In order to make ends meet, his mother worked at a nearby factory, mostly leaving Soldier to fend for himself and the house.
“Can you be a big, strong soldier like daddy for me?”
Soldier would always agree, finding his own food, his own entertainment, and his own friends. No matter what happened, he never bothered his mom. If anything, his job was to protect her.
That’s why, when his stomach started hurting and his arms and legs ached, he said nothing about it.
When he forgot the chores he was supposed to do and even the names of his friends, he didn’t bring it up.
When he felt tired all the time and some days could barely get out of bed, he just chalked it up to laziness like his mother did.
It turns out the factory they were next to was polluting the water next to the house with dangerous amounts of lead, which soon overcame Soldier’s immune system of steel.
He could barely remember anything anymore, and he became more and more distraught every day. Sometimes he would forget where he was and run outside, then get lost in the woods, only coming back once he remembered where he was supposed to be.
Soldier began to wear one of his father’s old helmets after his mom commented on his red eyes and the dark circles around them. He didn’t want to worry her. Besides, it helped bring back a few memories if he ever got lost again.
Finally, it got to the point where he didn’t even remember his mother, or his promise to her. He began to wander farther and farther away from home.
One day, he didn’t come back at all.
Out in the world with not a single memory to his name, Soldier wandered far and wide. He usually slept in barns and old, abandoned houses, cut off from most people.
Occasionally, he would find a family that wanted to “raise him as their own,” only to turn him away after finding him too difficult to care for.
He had frequent nightmares, ate little due to his unresolved stomach issues, and could barely walk ten feet without forgetting where he was going.
If he accidentally wandered into the same house twice, he would be chased out with either a broom or a gun - usually the latter.
He became “the demon child” in some counties, and “g*psy kid” in others, due to his long, unkempt hair, hidden eyes, and odd habits.
It even got to the point where Soldier couldn’t sleep on anyone’s property because he would be actively fought off like a wolf or a bear.
His only pleasure was an old movie theater that, as he recovered from his lead poisoning, remembered the location of and frequently snuck into.
The only thing that played were romance movies - which, like many children, Soldier hated - and war movies, which he watched over and over again with starving eyes.
Because of these movies, a single memory from his mother’s house came to him. A woman, tall and muscular from hard labor, giving him a shiny badge to hold, asking him to be a strong soldier like his father.
And thus began his life-long dream of becoming a military officer.
He trained according to what he knew from the films…which was mostly running, doing jumping jacks, and occasionally rolling around in the mud.
This only served to distance him further from his fellow human beings, but he didn’t care. Soldier had a mission, and he was going to do it well.
But the biggest change was his hair.
He had started cutting it off with sharpened rocks, but he was always saving up coins he found for a “proper army cut.”
Finally, he had quite the collection in a dirty mason jar, and marched into the barber shop in his town to ask for a haircut.
The manager was appalled, and at first refused, but Soldier stood his ground.
“Civilian, I’ll have you know that by denying a soldier with a haircut, you are denying America one of its best fighters! I can’t curdle the enemy’s blood looking like a hippie!”
After a short yelling match that, of course, Soldier won, the manager decided it would be in his best interest to comply.
He walked out of that shop with no hair on his head, but a huge grin on his face. Next stop, the ranks.
Soldier went from draft office to draft office, applying for and being denied entrance to the army for his obvious lack of mental stability.
This is when the personal retelling ended, since Soldier became very upset by the memory of his recruitment failures, but Miss Pauling concluded that he just bounced from state to state until Mann Co. found him, quote, “sitting in an alleyway, eating army draft paperwork while sobbing uncontrollably.”
Engineer:
Engineer also never really talks about his childhood, but both Medic and Spy (Spy knows everything about everyone on the team) know that’s for a good reason.
He grew up in a trailer community near an almost ghost town in Texas.
His father was an abusive car mechanic with a mean streak a mile wide and a shop full of failed inventions. His mother wasn’t any better - she was bitter and reclusive, only really coming out of her room to pick a fight with her husband.
However, what Engie lacked in family, he more than made up for in friends.
He had a rag-tag, Rugrats-esque team of pals from all walks of life: Rhapsody, the daughter of a struggling porn star; Tom, the son of two farmers wiped out by blight; Cici, an adopted girl that could barely walk into her trailer without a black eye and a string of slurs; Quinn, the nervous child of a single mother that serves as guidance to the other kids; And Fred, who didn’t seem to have any family, but had become a greaser big brother to all of them.
Together, they explored the desert near the trailer park, pooled their resources to feed and support each other, and used their individual strengths to get through each day.
Engineer, whom everyone affectionately called “Big Dell,” snuck parts from his dad’s workshop for his own creations.
By the time he was twelve, he could make a small, running engine for the soapbox cars his friends frequently raced.
No toy, piece of clothing, glasses, or tool was out of his line of expertise.
One day, though, upon finding that some of his parts were missing, Engineer’s dad gave him a terrible beating that broke a few of his fingers and left a huge gash near his eye.
Since then, he refused to fix, make, or even touch a tool.
He wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, but they could make a pretty good guess, since they knew where the scraps and parts had come from.
The whole group was furious with Engineer’s dad - their Big Dell was funny, smart, and was more loving than every family member they had combined. Even Quinn was red in the face.
They wanted to break into his dad’s workshop and destroy all of his inventions, just to teach him a lesson, but they knew Engineer would take the fall for it.
Instead, they rummaged through trash cans, searched their toy chests, and looked under their trailers to find things Engineer could use.
They waited until his birthday to unveil the massive pile of supplies they had stowed away.
Engineer immediately dropped to his knees and began to cry, and everyone else dogpiled him for a huge hug.
As the creme de la creme, they gave him a pair of welding goggles - the same welding goggles he wears to this day, having modified them so they still fit his growing body.
With his healed fingers and renewed spirit, he made each of them a gift: a toy car for Rhapsody, a skull ring for Fred, a full set of candle wax crayons for Cici, a chewable necklace for Quinn so they wouldn’t chew on their collar, and a mini-planter for Tom.
But Engineer was given the greatest gift - confidence in his own abilities and that he can be and was appreciated for more than his services.
This gave him the drive to build bigger and better things, which his friends happily assisted in creating.
Engie’s best memories are with that motley crew of scrawny, beaten-up kids.
But, as he became a teenager, the abuse grew worse by the day.
He was often kept in his dad’s garage to fix cars in sweltering heat and with nothing to show for his work except threats of what would happen if a customer complained.
His mother finally grew bitter enough to pick on him, wondering aloud and pointedly if she had made a mistake by having him, then immediately contradict herself by wailing in his arms about how she’s the most awful mother in the world, and how she would be gone soon, and then nobody would have to deal with her anymore.
Engie grew more and more distant from his friends as they either moved out, ran away, or, in Rhapsody’s case, died.
He thought of just shutting the garage door and turning on a car a couple times, but he would always return to his memories of the hidden cave of goodies his friends had collected or the many inventions they had helped him build.
It just wasn’t worth it.
On a night when his depression and self-doubt was especially bad, he decided to build a personal invention for the first time in years - a small, robotic chicken made out of bent gears and empty oil cans.
He worked on it for a few weeks, but made the mistake of leaving it on a work table once it was finished.
Engie came to work the next morning with his dad ready to chew him out. But, before any finger could be lifted against his son, he was interrupted by a sweet older couple that was having their tires replaced.
“Now, Ethan, ain’t that just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”
“Hm?”
“That there chicken statue over there! It looks like it could very well get up and start peckin’ for worms, don’tcha think?”
Engie looked at the couple, then at his dad, then at his chicken. He slowly lifted it from the table and turned the key.
It started to slowly lean forward, then took a few steps on it’s long, spring-loaded legs. The neck went down, and the chicken’s rusty beak began to scrape at the pavement.
Now he had the husband’s attention.
“Didja build that yourself, son, or did your daddy help ya?”
Engineer looked at his dad for a split second before answering.
“My own sweat ‘n blood, sir. My daddy says I should stop wastin’ time on ugly thing-a-ma-jigs an’ put my hands to somethin’ worth doin’.”
The man smiled. “Well, this ‘ugly thing-a-ma-jig’ shows real skill. We could use somebody like you, once we train you up a bit.”
“Now hold on a damn - !” his father interjected, but was silenced with a cold stare.
“We’ll put ya through a state-of-the-art school, then put ya straight inta the work force. You can build whatever you like…and you’ll have a lot better materials than rusty tin. Whaddaya say, son?”
Engineer just nodded, and the man grabbed his hand and shook it.
“We’ll keep in touch.”
Engineer left that trailer park at age seventeen, leaving his fuming father and drunken mother behind.
He only stopped to visit Rhapsody’s grave before embarking on his new life.
There is still a stone plate with a message carved into it next to the headstone. If you brush off the leaves and dig out the moss, you can see Engie’s parting words:
“A friendship with you and the rest of the gang is the greatest thing I ever built. -Big Dell”
#tf2#tf2 fandom#tf2 ask blog#tf2 headcanon#tf2 headcanons#tf2 engineer#engineer tf2#tf2 solly#send asks#ask blog#headcanon requests#lovely anon#thanks anon#thanks for the ask
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Fireside
Leone Abbacchio x Gn!Reader
Warnings: sfw. mentions of violence and injury. pre vento aureo
Notes: how Abbacchio met his s/o + some relationship fluff
When Abbacchio heard that there was going to be a new member of Bucciarati's gang, he was less than thrilled.
Abbacchio hated when the group expanded. He hated the new faces, the new names to memorize, and how didn't know them yet. He had no way of knowing if they were reliable or not. He hated change. Every day for him was on repeat: get up, work for Bruno, drink himself to sleep. He was content with the way things were. He's never eager to see something change.
If you had any say in the matter, you would have never joined Passione. After a debt brought on by your family, you found yourself running out of options. It was join or die. You would be assigned to Bucciarati's gang after passing Polpo's test. The stand you gained wasn't strong enough for you to join the guard, or even the hitman team. For that, you often considered yourself lucky. Things could always be better; its them getting worse that worries you.
Passione was nothing like the old mafia movies you watched as a kid. You're not quite sure what you expected, but this was a lot worse.
Bruno was a decent leader- his teammates respected him and he only tried to kill you once. Compared to some of the others, you had it easy. Narancia and Mista warmed up to you rather quick. They were a bit hyper for your liking, but soon grew on you. Fugo took longer to come around, but eventually got used to you. When Abbacchio first laid eyes on you, he couldn't figure out why you were there. For as new as you were, you held your own pretty well. You weren't outright weak, but it was clear you had not been in the life for long. It was impressive, but not enough to say anything about it. Compared to the others, you were reserved. That didn't mean you were quiet. If the others got you going, you could be just as loud as them. Nobody was spared from your and Narancia's pranks. You grew into your stand. Bucciarati made the transition easier. They quickly became family; your annoying brothers and adoptive father.
Early on Abbacchio was a real prick.
Overall he was hostile and prickly. His personality was hard to get along with. In the beginning you kept your distance. You quickly became too consumed with work to worry about him, and pushed him to the back of your mind. Abbacchio gave you a week before you either broke down, or were killed. For him to respect a newer member, they had to prove themselves to the gang.
You lasted longer than he expected you to.
Over the year that you would work for Bucciarati, you had only been assigned on a handful of jobs with Abbacchio. Your conversations had been few, and only in passing. It pissed you off just a little bit. While you weren't the most personable either- at times you were outwardly hostile- you figured he'd have come around by now. With as aggressive as you could be, it shocked him just how easily you charmed the others. To him, it almost felt artificial; it was a skill bred from the need to survive in Passione's underground, not true charisma. He never failed to let you know that you hadn't proved yourself to him.
You two were only sent on the same assignment together because everyone else was busy. Despite your reservations about Abbacchio, there wasn't much you wouldn't do for Bruno. It was only one job. If it was that bad, you'd ask to not be partnered with him again.
Your job was to retrieve a dead drop, then return to the hideout. It wasn't anything high-stakes. Abbacchio sat the entire car ride in silence. It wasn't hard to tell when he was having a rough day. He was never the most talkative, but he always participated in whatever conversation the others were having- if only to insult them. Today he was quiet, which didn't seem like a good sign. If someone gave you an inch, you'd take a mile. Getting them to talk was a way to get the ball rolling. Any polite conversation you tried to have was shot down with a glare, so you quickly scrapped that idea. You figured he was hungover, and thought it best to leave him alone.
You suppose it was better than him complaining. There was only so much you could put up with.
It was really no fault of your own that things went wrong. Expect everything that can go wrong, to go wrong. The mission wasn't supposed to be high-stakes; there was no reason why another group would be after the dead drop. A rival gang spotted you and went for the package. Abbacchio took it and ran while you tried to hold them off for as long as possible.
As you were heading back to the car, you were cornered.
The kid couldn't have been much younger than you. He aimed a gun between you and Abbacchio, who was only a few feet behind you. He gives you two no time to respond, and only hesitates for a moment when he pulls the trigger.
He missed.
You still don't know how he missed, only taking a moment to thank whatever higher power that just saved your ass. That didn't stop your short life from flashing before your eyes. The bullet struck the ground just a few feet behind you, sending up a spray of dirt and rocks. Part of him couldn't believe that someone was willing to take a bullet for him. Really, you were just trying to protect the package, but it was probably better if he didn't know that.
On the trip back home he scolded you for being so reckless. Since the kid missed, you saw no issue in it. What he feels isn't a sense of pride, more than it is guilt.
He found you less annoying than he'd ever admit.
Whatever you did, it planted the seed of affection within him. Admittedly he was the last place to nurture feelings, and akin to planting flowers in a barren desert while refusing to water them, it didn't stop it from blooming.
There was a mutual respect between the two of you. The man was a mess, and rarely sober, but began to pick himself up a bit. This did not go unnoticed, though the others rarely mentioned it. You would go on to be assigned more jobs together. He was getting less and less vocal about how much he disliked you. While you didn't talk much, you spent a lot of time together. He often found your presence comforting. He'd grown to not only tolerate your company, but enjoy it. The two of you would never admit to being friends- he was too stubborn for that- but that's what you seemed to be.
On late nights he'd walk with you to your apartment. He claimed he didn't want you to get mugged, and that you lived in a bad part of town, but the act was dropped when you mentioned him being chivalrous. You would invite him in for a drink or two. While you didn't want to encourage his bad habits, he never said no to a glass of wine. He never said no to you. You'd had gotten used to being around him. The little spare time you had was spent with him- not doing anything in particular. It never had to be anything special, often times you just lounged around the hideout together.
One night he was out for a job later than usual.
He insisted on taking this one alone. Bruno raised an eyebrow to that, but made no comment on it. Abbacchio had been in a bad mood all day, and while they couldn't prove it was you, the others had the sneaking suspicion it was. You argued. Often. It was rarely serious. He showed his affection by bullying people. What he threw at you, you would send right back.
As much as you didn't like him going alone, you didn't fight it. Mostly out of spite.
By then the others had gone to bed- or gone home for the night. It was only you left at the hideout. On the few nights he'd go straight home, he'd shoot you a text. There wasn't any particular reason you stayed back for him. Maybe it was a gut feeling. It felt a bit childish to wait by the door. He was your partner and you weren't eager to see him sent back in a pine box. Unfortunately, he was important to you.
By the time the door opens, you're dozing off. You're on your feet the moment you hear it.
"You scared the hell out of me." You say.
"The front door. Scared you." He says.
"You scared me," dramatically you roll your eyes, "asshole. You always tell me when you'll be gone this late."
His heart races when you give him a once-over for injuries. While you don't touch him, the way your gaze travels over his body makes him a bit anxious. On his best days he doesn't want to be looked at, on his worst its unimaginable- he just doesn't want to be perceived. If he had any say in it, he wouldn't care about how you saw him. But you make him worry about how others view him.
"This isn't your blood I hope." You say.
Slowly he nods.
You motion for him to sit, before grabbing the first-aid kit from the other room. The wound looks better when all the blood is cleaned away, and doesn't appear to need stitches. Gently you set your hand on his. It's rather cold. When he doesn't pull away- or show any sign of discomfort- you wrap your arms around his neck.
"What are you-"
"Just let me have this." You say. "We don't have to talk about it ever again."
His arms awkwardly wrap around you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He can't remember the last time someone has held him like this. The smell of your shampoo is comforting. His heartbeat drops for a second before picking up in pace.
"I was worried about you." You say.
No matter how many times he goes over it in his head, he still doesn't believe it. It's not that he doesn't feel the same way- he's head-over-heels for you- but he's in denial about it.
"I love you."
It's under your breath, and so quiet that he almost has to do a double take.
"Say it again..." He says.
"I love you."
He doesn't believe it, but he's so content in your arms he won't question it. He could die happy in this moment.
It would take the others weeks to realize you two were dating.
To their credit, it was sooner than you expected. Not much changed when you made things official. Abbacchio wasn't a fan of pda. They were only tipped off because of Narancia. The prank was harmless- he did that sort of thing all the time- but god it pissed Abbacchio off. Nobody had seen him that mad in years. When you told him to calm down, and that it didn't bother you, he sat in the corner to brood.
You moved in together not long after that. The change felt natural, and took little effort from either of you. It was easy to settle into a routine with him, seeing as you spent so much time at his apartment anyway. Abbacchio always woke up first, although he stayed in bed until you woke up. He's not sentimental- nor will he ever admit to be- but he never passed up the opportunity to watch you while you were so at peace. His nightmares existed long before Passione. He rarely slept, and usually got four hours on a good night. Sleeping next to you helped.
On the rare days off you had together, you spent your time lounging around your apartment. When he was sober, he was a decent cook, and often made dinner for the two of you. He preferred dates at home, over going out in public. He'd bring you coffee while the two of you would watch Italian soap operas. If he was feeling particularly soft, he'd let you braid his hair. Physical touch was something he was still getting used to. It's not that he didn't like it; it was unfamiliar to him and that made him uncomfortable. If it made you happy, he'd try it, even if he personally didn't see the appeal.
He often finds himself thinking about the future. Before it never seemed too bright. Thinking about his past is an almost immediate slope into self loathing. He wasn't all better, but he was healing. Both you and Bruno made sure of that. There wasn't much that he wouldn't do for you.
Every day he wakes up slightly more in love than the last.
#jjba#jjba part 5#jojo's bizarre adventure#golden wind#vento aureo#leone abbacchio#leone abbachio x reader#jjba x reader#abbacchio x reader
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One Shot -Leo Demidov - Moscow Part II of III
Veronika and Leo had returned to Moscow a few days after the disaster from the train. Leo had been very kind and caring as they traversed the snowy fields to find the outpost. Helping her carefully through snow banks and sometimes even carrying her. But once they reached the outpost Leo became all official again. On the train he slept, then once they were at the station Leo led her straight to the building where his office was held.
“Go to Mr. Popov’s desk,” He said pointing to an older man filing documents. “He will give you your papers.”
With that, Leo stepped into his superior’s office and closed the door. Veronika stood outside in the hallway staring at the door. So that was it, the MGB officer just wanted a quick fling before moving on with his life. Veronika was hurt and angry when she walked over to Mr. Popov’s desk.
Veronika was given a small apartment within the city and she reported Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. to a building a few blocks away from the one Leo worked in. For four weeks she went on with her new life. And it wasn’t all bad. Nikolay, the son of the building manager, stopped in one day to fix her sink. He was very handsome, dark hair, soft blue eyes, and very strong.
“What did you break this time Ms. Semenova?” he joked when she opened the door to him.
“I think you didn’t fix the sink right the first time for a reason?” She said, with a flirtatious smile.
He grinned and entered the apartment to begin his work. Veronika was about to close the door when it met resistance. She opened it fully to see Leo standing on the other side. Dressed in full uniform, he wore a heavy wool-gray MGB trench coat, a matching Ushanka, and a utility belt holding his gun.
She stared at him in shock. She honestly thought she would never see him again.
“Can I come in?” He asked.
She noticed he was using his gentle voice with her and that made her step aside and let him into the apartment.
Nikolay stepped out from the kitchen.
“Ah, I found the culprit. It was a rusted…” He began to say, but then saw Leo.
Leo locked eyes on him. His eyes showed that he was not happy to see another man in her apartment.
“Get out. You can come back when Ms. Semenova isn’t here.” Leo said in his official MGB voice.
Nikolay did not protest. He picked up his toolbox and left as quickly as possible.
“Leo!” Veronika complained.
She ran to the doorway to watch poor Nikolay vanish down the stairwell. She shut the door and turned around, folding her arms in frustration.
“Well? What do you want?”
Leo’s eyes widened a little as if he forgot that she didn’t care if he was MGB or not. He was used to people being afraid and giving him respect. He shook his head, remembering she was not most people.
“I came to see you,” he said.
“You came to see me? Leo, it has been four weeks since I last saw you. You can’t just walk into my life again and begin tearing it down.”
“Tearing it down?”
“Nikolay! I liked him, now I will never see him again because of you.”
“You liked him?” Leo scoffed. “What about me?”
Veronika could not believe what she was hearing. “What about you?! Did you not hear me from before? I have not seen you in four weeks. You left me with Mr. Popex and I never saw you again!”
“Mr. Popov,” He corrected her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. How long would they throw her in prison if she killed an MGB officer? Probably until the day she died.
“Four weeks! Also, the MGB told me my father is dead! Shot in the head just a mile outside of Moscow! Why didn’t I hear this from you? Why didn’t you come?” She started off angrily then as she finished tears began pouring from her eyes.
She had refused to cry when her father died. They had been close, but he would have wanted her to be strong. So she took all her feelings and pushed them down. But now her emotions couldn’t be contained. Like a broken dam it all came rushing through, threatening to swallow her up.
He removed his Ushanka and placed it on the table. Then he pulled off his gloves, unhooked his utility belt, and shrugged off his coat. It took him a moment to do this, all the while Veronika was holding her arms and weeping. Once he was free of his restricted clothing, he took her into his arms and stroked her hair.
“I was assigned another mission when I got back. I didn’t have the chance to arrange a message to you because I left the night we got back. ” He said, rocking her gently in his arms.
She wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. It just felt good to be in his arms, to hear his deep voice and feel his comforting presence.
“Do you want me to go get Nikolay? Maybe he can do a better job than me?” Leo asked.
That made her laugh and she brought her head up. “Maybe? He was rather handsome.”
Leo frowned, in a mock gesture of hurt. “How is anyone more handsome than me?”
Before she could answer he picked her up and headed to her bedroom.
“Leo!” she said in surprise.
“Shhhhh,” he said, then laid her down on the bed and leaned in to kiss her.
She eagerly accepted his kiss. It was a kiss of longing, of passion. Leo was trying to be gentle, but also he was excited to be experiencing her again. Veronika felt his urgency and permitted him to expedite the process. As he unbuckled his belt, she undid a few buttons of his neatly pressed military shirt. Figuring he was on duty, she supposed she wouldn’t get the full Leo experience. He managed to remove her shoes and slide her pantyhose off. He pushed up her dress and she felt his erection against her inner thighs.
The tips of his fingers reached below to feel the heat of her vagina. She was getting wet, but needed a little more stimulation. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them. He brought them back to her flesh, inserting two fingers into her.
She leaned into his fingers and rotated her hips slightly all the while moaning with sexual satisfaction. She felt his thumb gently circle around her clit making her kiss him with intense furiosity. He didn’t finish her, but it was enough to make her ready for him to enter her without too much friction. Continuing his wet kisses, he adjusted his erection and slowly slid himself into her.
He felt so good. The pressure from his cock, his finely toned body beneath her hands and his delectable kisses all felt amazing. As their kissing slowed down, he stopped and looked down into her eyes. She never met a man with such tantalizing lips. She began to trace the outline of his lips as he gently thrusted. He pretended to bite at her fingers and she giggled.
“I’m going to finish,” He said, making her ready for his climax.
He released himself, filling her with his seed. His head dropped to nestle beside her own. She held his head in her hands as he shuddered. He looked into her eyes and kissed her lips with several light kisses before removing himself from her. Standing up he began to adjust himself, zipping his trousers up and tucking in his shirt. He buckled his belt and walked over to the mirror to ensure his hair was presentable.
As he did this, she adjusted her clothing as well, putting her panties and pantyhose back on, and then securing her shoes.
“I had better see you in at least two weeks from now,” She quipped as she stood from the bed.
He smiled, “Two weeks? Now that is pushing it. Actually, how about dinner tomorrow night?”
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Remember You Young
I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot .
She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.
They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.
It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.
There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.
There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.
A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.
A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .
The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”
However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.
Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.
After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.
She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.
The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.
…Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.
…Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.
As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.
“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”
“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”
The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”
“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”
The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”
Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”
Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.
The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.
“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”
Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.
“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect. “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”
Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.
“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.
“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.
Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”
“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”
“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”
“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”
Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”
Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.
“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”
“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”
“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”
Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.
“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”
“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”
“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”
Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”
Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.
Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”
“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”
“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”
“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”
“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”
It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?
And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?
“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”
All eyes turned back to Marinette.
Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”
They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.
“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”
Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”
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Found You {Arthur Morgan x F!reader}
Summery: She was there for Arthur through everything, being more than good friends but less than partners. They support eachother through the good and bad times, it’s not love tho, no, it’s not love at all.
Rating: M. Basically porn with plot. More plot than i planned i really got carried away with this. SMUT IS HERE! 18+ ONLY!!
—–
Chapter 4 - Together
The next few days were nothing short of torture. Arthur never spoke another word to me, huffing whenever I would say something to him or just walking away from me completely.
Everyone else in camp soon noticed something serious had happened between us. Their comforting words and questions on what happened went unanswered and dismissed. I hoped time would help, that I would get a chance to explain myself and apologise for my foolishness and downright stupidity. But as the days passed, the frayed ends of the rope had no chance of being reconnected, no matter how hard I tried and how hard I cried.
So I flung myself into as many jobs as I could get. As a distraction.
Robbing homesteads. Stagecoaches that turned into shootouts more often than not.
Gambling with fellers that were too drunk to notice me stealing their wears from right under their noses and gone before they realised anything was amiss.
Fighting in hidden alleyways with meagre men that thought they could take on a woman with nothing to lose. Just to feel something, another kind of pain that would lessen with time.
It wasn’t until I was sat at the edge of the camp, cleaning my revolver while looking out over the overlook, stars raining bright above. Bottle of whiskey by my side that Hosea came over and sat beside me. Silent at first. Taking in the view.
“You going to explain whats going on?”
“Nothings going on, Hosea.” I shrugged, running the oiled cloth over the same spot mindlessly.
“Arthur won’t tell me. I though out of the two of you, you would.” he kept his eyes ahead, not bothering to look at me.
I sighed, my shoulders dropping in defeat. I might as well tell him, not like he would be able to change my mind.
“I’m an idiot. I spoke to Mary. Told her to leave Arthur alone and to stop contacting him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know anymore...Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“You love him.” I could see his grin out of the corner of my eye, albeit a sad on.
“Not you too, Hosea.”
“You two were very close. Closer than you think I realise. I’m not a dumb old man you know”
I didnt reply to that. No point to, my mind was made up now. Instead, I holstered my gun and stood, picking up the bottle as I did.
Turning to Hosea to finally look at him.
“I’m leaving, Hosea. Only for a few weeks or a few months. I don’t know.”
“You really think leaving will help?”
“Maybe. It might help him if I’m not here. I’ll send money and write to you and Dutch. I’ve already packed.”
After a few more words and questions on my plans when I’m out there on my own, we hugged and I said my goodbyes to him, Dutch and a few others.
Promising the girls I will see them again, even though I was doubtful.
I willed no tears to spill when I gathered my things, leaving my tent bare and hollow.
Mounting my horse I left camp without looking back, letting the wind guide me in whatever direction it wanted me to go.
---
Roughly 4 months had passed since leaving. Currently holed up in a now-abandoned cabin in the depths of Grizzlies East by O’Creagh’s run, hiding from the law after robbing the fence in Van Horne.
Id wrote letters and sent money to nearby stations as promised. Keeping updated with the gangs coming and goings. The last time I heard from those who would write back, mainly Hosea and Mary-Beth, was when they were held up in a place called Shady Belle.
I haven’t heard anything from them since. That was a month ago.
I had thought of going there, finding them. But I couldn’t bare having to leave again after realising they had been getting on fine and had left me to my own devices. Coming to the conclusion that I was not returning and that I had abandoned them all. Which was far from the truth. I still cared, which I’m sure was evident from whatever leftover money I had been sending to them. Only, it wasn’t getting picked up from the stations anymore, along with my many letters.
I was travelling back to the cabin after an evening hunting for supper and hopeful breakfast.
The blanket of trees now behind me, opening up the wondrous starry night, pulling my jacket closed as the cold breeze this time of year began to sting any uncovered skin.
I looked around before dismounting, taking my kill of two rabbits stowed on the side of my ever faithful horse and made my way inside. Looking around once more to make sure I hadn’t been followed. Just to be safe.
As I began to skin and gut the meat, the warm glow from the lantern lighting my every movement in the otherwise dark cabin, I heard motion outside.
Bears and wolves were not uncommon around these parts. I had to shoot my way out of a wolf pack not a week ago, coming away with nothing but a bruise on my hip from being bucked off the horse in her desperate attempt to flee.
Nevertheless, I placed down the knife and picked up my rifle propped up against the door. Looking out the window to the right of the door. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing else.
I went to the door, preparing my rifle then placing my ear to the door.
It was silence for a few moments, then movement again, making its way up the steps. It didn’t sound like an animal.
With a hand on the handle and rifle ready to be used, I swung the door open. The rifle now aimed at the unwelcomed guest.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust in the darkness, but it didnt take long to recognise who it was.
“Arthur?” It was barely a whisper. A question of disbelief. I blinked a few times, surely my eyes were playing tricks on me.
After a few breaths, he finally spoke
“I’ve found you.”
We just stood there, I released a breath I didnt even know I was holding.
How did he find me? Why would he? Months of keeping myself away from people the best I could and staying hidden for long periods of time I was beginning to feel content with being a lone wolf. Not thinking that lone wolves are weakened beings after too long. Often driven out when deemed useless or a weakness to the pack, or leaving to find their own family. Not alone forever, wolves would struggle and go insane.
But he, of all people, found me. The only question now is why. And that was the only thing I could say as I lowered the gun.
“Why?”
He told me everything that happened. The downfall, the betrayal, the heartbreak. Those that we lost. Everyone gone in one way or another.
Sean, Kieran, Lenny, Hosea, Molly, Miss Grimshaw. Dead.
Saint Denis bank, Guarma, Micah working with the Pinkertons.
In the end, Micah had turned Dutch against almost everyone, whispering little worms into his ear until they grew and grew to leave no room for anything else.
Dutch turning his back on Him and John. Leaving John to bleed out and leaving Arthur on that mountain. Where he thought would be his final resting place.
But once the sun was up, high in the sky, he found the energy to live. To heal. To find me.
And that’s what he did the last few weeks until he heard whispers of someone fitting my description that caused a bit of hell in Van Horn. He knew he was close.
“But...why did you want to find me?” I asked. Both of us sat around the small table below the window, two empty whiskey glasses before us.
He took in a deep breath, his perfect blue eyes meeting my bloodshot and watery ones. “I wanted to the moment I was told you left,” He leaned over, taking my hands in his.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few months. Especially in the last few weeks. What you did before you left, I understand now why.”
“But I hurt you.” letting a sob escape, my body starting to tremble and I’m sure he could feel it in my hands.
“It did hurt. But losing you hurt even more,” He said, nothing more than a whisper, his eyes never leaving mine and his hold on my hands not faltering as he continued.
“I remember what you said to me that night years ago. ‘Bout not knowing how much I mean to you. Well - I - I do. Because I feel the same. Always have. it just took me a while to realise it I guess.”
I couldn’t stop the tears. The damn had busted open. Within seconds he was on me, his arms enveloping me, my hands coming to purchase on his shirt. Neither of us wanted to let go, out of fear the other would disappear into the air like dust in the morning rays.
We held each other for what felt like an eternity, my tears slowing and the shaking subsiding.
I lifted my head from where it was perched on his chest to look at him, our eyes locked once more.
No words were spoken but I could see it in the depths of those pools, the forgiveness and longing. And I was sure my eyes mirrored the same.
His hand came up to cradle my face and I instinctively leaned into him, my breathing hitching despite the calmness that washed over me. Then I looked into his eyes again, only to be met with a look I had not seen in many years.
I opened my mouth to speak but before I could he surged forward, his lips on mine.
It was delicate, more fragile than any other kiss we had shared.
It wasn’t long until that fragility turned into desperation, my hands at the nape of his neck, his on my waist. My mind was running a million miles a minute, all thoughts of him and this moment. Feeling like we were young lovers again.
His hands roamed my sides as I gripped his hair, keeping each other glued to one another.
My body began to burn up, feelings I had repressed for months pushing their way to the surface, refusing to be drowned.
We broke apart and he pulled me to stand, his lips now on my neck, trailing wet kisses from below my ear to the hollow of my neck, causing me to moan.
He looked at me then, desperation and pleading etched upon his face before I kissed him again. Kissing the scar on his chin that was easily visible within the stubble, his jaw, down to his neck and then his chest. Pushing off his jacket and suspenders with it.
My fingers returned to the front of his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly as he pushed me back into the direction of the bed. My legs soon coming into contact with the edge.
His hands now making a start on my blouse, pulling it from the confines of my pants and lifting it over my head.
My hands roaming his chest and snaking down to his abdomen, stroking the hair there, causing him to tense at my touch. He always was a fine man, built from hard work that I couldn't help but adore.
His arms wrapping around to my back to undo the corsets lacing, completely surrounding me and all I could smell was him. Horse, rain, sweat and something that was just so undoubtedly him.
Undoing his gun belt was muscle memory, hitting the floor with a thud, my corset following, now both bare from the waist up.
We couldn’t wait any longer, our lips on each other once again as we worked on unbuttoning our pants. He leaned me down to lay on the bed, my legs hanging over the sides as he wasted no time to pull off the rest of my clothing.
Laying there propped up on my elbows I watched as he raked his eyes over every curve, scar and freckle on my body. Kneeling between my legs he drew kisses from my knee up my thigh, getting oh so close to where I wanted him to be.
He looked up at me once more, giving a shuddering breath before his mouth landed between my legs, soft but purposeful strokes easily pulling moans from me.
He didn’t let up, devouring me like a man starved as he paid close attention to my little bundle of nerves. My body shaking again but for a whole different reason. It had been too long and I knew I wasn’t going to last if he kept going for a minute longer.
My hands fisting the bedsheets I tried to speak but it was useless, squirming from the sensations. Lifting my legs to rest on his shoulders feeling him moan against me, the vibration causing bolts of electricity to fire through my whole body and land at my core. I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching and my hand flew down to card through his hair, holding him there.
My body convulsed as I tipped off the edge, my head rolling back as the blinding pleasure washed over me, moaning his name into the air.
Arthur was above kissing me within seconds, tasting myself on his tongue and lips. Catching my breath he pushed me further up the bed until my head hit the plush pillows.
Removing his pants and then situating himself between my legs.
I could feel him pressed up against my thigh, hot and swollen and begging for attention. And oh how my body craved to give him what he needed.
His eyes met mine, hooded and filled with lust. Silently asking for permission.
I nodded, placing a kiss on his forehead and placing my hands on his shoulders.
Electrifying jolts surged through my core as he strokes himself along my slit tenderly. His skin burning to my touch and looking downright drunk. Completely intoxicated.
He sinks into me slowly. My body soon getting accustomed to the memory of him as he bottoms out, his hips meeting my thighs. My breath hitches as he bites back a moan. Both of us taking a moment just to bask in the feeling of one another like this again.
It all felt the same but so different. He kissed the scar on my collar bone that he only got to see before when it was fresh. We had been through so much over the years we would need to learn about each other again. But one thing remained the same; my body yeard for him.
He pulled out before setting a languid pace, lifting one of my legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him to go deeper, his pace quickening and lifting my hips to meet him, Chasing our pleasure.
One hand in my hair, tangled up with my locks as his other hand firmly grasped my hip.
The look on his face was evidence that he was holding back, needing to completely lose himself in me. And I felt the same.
“Arthur...Please.” I purred, not needing to say anymore.
His pace quickened with a grunt, one that was a borderline growl.
My moans and the sounds of skin on skin filling the air and our ears as he kept hitting that sweet spot. My nails forming crescents on his shoulders.
Pulling him down to crush my lips against his, our teeth clicking and tongues dancing together. Pulling back suddenly with swollen lips as the pressure began to build, my whole body trembling more and more as I got higher and higher.
Moaning out his name as his rhythm began to falter.
Nuzzling into my neck and mumbling ‘oh, fuck,’ in that gravelly but wanton voice.
His hand on my hip made its way between my legs, rubbing in quick circles.
I couldn’t hold back. That coil within me growing tighter and tighter before snapping. My back arching as the shockwaves rocked through me. Slowing his pace slightly to ride me through it before picking up his pace again, chasing his pleasure with a few more pumps of his hips and he stilled. His hand like a vice on my thigh as he spent himself inside me with a drawn-out moan.
It took us a few moments to get our breath back. Pulling himself from me causing me to whimper from the empty feeling and sensitivity.
He moved to lay beside me and pulled me to lay with my head on his shoulder. Neither of us willing to clean ourselves up just yet. My skin now acknowledging the cold air around us. The thin sheen of sweat cooling me.
Nothing was said for a while as he held me close until he broke the silence to place a kiss to the top of my head then lifting my chin for my face to meet his.
“I love you,” he said. My eyes getting blurry from the confession I never thought I would hear. But looking at him I knew it was true. His eyes shone with adoration.
I smiled weakly before kissing him once. Looking back into his eyes and with no hesitation, I said out loud what id only heard myself mutter in my dreams.
“I love you too."
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan fanfiction#arthur morgan smut#smut#rdr2#arthur morgan x fem#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader
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More Than All the Gems On Earth: A Retelling of Diamonds and Toads
My mother beats me black and blue while I cast diamonds at her feet. The gems fall from my lips with every apology and plea for mercy, and they scatter across the rough-hewn floor like bits of broken glass. My mother would crush them if she could, and she hates them all the more because she cannot destroy them. The vipers from my sister’s lips slither among the diamonds, cold-blooded creatures born of poison words.
“You did this!” Mother screams, twisting my arm in her iron grip. “You spiteful little wretch! You’ll pay for this!”
It has always been this way--my sister makes the mistakes and I am punished for them. Olive’s task had not been difficult. She had only to walk to the well and give a drink to the old woman who asked. A mere moment of kindness. Yet Olive failed to give even that, and received toads and vipers as her reward.
"I’m sorry!” I cry, and I am. It’s a frightening punishment, even for someone as cruel as my sister. I pity her more than I ever have.
Olive has never felt pity. She slaps my face with the back of her hand. “Witch!” she spits. The word turns into leopard snake as long as my arm; it falls to the floor and twines itself around my leg. “You said she was a beggar, not a princess!”
I try to avoid the toads created by Olive's words as I struggle to escape from Mother. She is pulling me toward the cellar, the place of my most feared punishments. Why is it my fault that the fairy chose another shape? Should it not have been easier for Olive to show kindness to a grand lady?
“No, please!” I scream. A desperate plea for mercy. For understanding. For love.
I had thought that my jewels would make Mother love me, but not even my diamonds were good enough for her. They had to come from Olive. Her hatred of me has destroyed them both, and as always, I am the one to blame.
The thought hardens in my heart like the sapphire that forms in my mouth. They will never love me. They despise the very diamonds I give them simply because they fall from my lips. There is nothing for me here but hatred and misery.
As she strides toward the cellar, Mother steps on a bulbous toad. Her shriek of horror splits my ears, but her grip on my arm loosens. I pull away and sprint out the open cottage door. I flee into the forest with nothing but the clothes on my back and the gems that fall from my lips.
#
Standing by the stream, my words turn into pearls. Milky white, blushing pink, and one as large as my thumbnail that’s as warm and black as a soft summer night. I let them fall into the soft mud of the bank, smiling as I watch the pile grow. Though gems are now common as sand to me, I haven’t tired of their beauty. I speak poems to the sunrise just so I can watch them fall.
I pick out the purest ones from the pile, leaving behind the very small and very large, the ones that are more difficult to use as payment. I brush the rest into the stream, hoping the current will carry them on adventures. Perhaps they’ll be a windfall to a widow in need. A surprise catch for a fisherman. The prize a prince needs to win the heart of his true love.
I put the rest into my pocket, preparing for another day of silence. Which village shall I travel to today? My legend has spread to most of the countryside. Most believe me an eccentric princess. Others accuse me of thievery. I stay where people will accept me and not question my muteness or my money too closely. I’ve paid for nights at an inn with an emerald that could buy a lord’s palace. I buy dresses with pure pink rubies, groceries with chips of diamonds. Most people can’t fathom the value of the gems I give them, but people are starting to suspect, and I’ve become more wary of strangers.
Perhaps it’s time to settle down. Speak myself a fortune that will buy me an estate and servants. Walls to hide behind and people to protect me. For a price, of course.
It’s a cold, uncomforting thought. Would I really be safe among people whose loyalty was bought by my jewels?
The sky darkens with my mood as I travel along the forest path. Is this the best I can hope for? A wandering, lonely life with only as much security as money can buy?
My tears fall with the first raindrops. The cold rain drips down the neck of my gown. Chills run up my spine. I remember the cottage of my childhood. The snug roof. The warm kitchen fire. So long as I avoided Mother’s wrath, it wasn’t a bad life. At least I had a place. A purpose. Sometimes I find myself longing for a hearth to clean or a kettle to scrub.
When thunder rumbles, I remember the cellar. The slam of the door blocking out all light. Long, cold nights with bruises forming on my arms and legs. Mother’s red face as she slapped me that last day. Olive’s snakes winding along the floor.
The memories are too much, and I curl up beneath a tree to weep. I have no past that isn’t tainted by pain. No future that isn’t fraught with fear. I have only myself, and she’s a pitiful comfort in this rain-filled forest. The fairy called me beautiful and good. What use is either to a girl forever alone?
A voice from above, warm and deep, cuts through the cold rain. “Are you hurt?”
I look up to see a young man on a horse. His clothes are finer than my ruby-bought dress, though he’s rain-soaked and roughened with forest dirt. He carries a gun, and three red and white spaniels stand beside his horse, but he’s no huntsman. I cannot mistake the ring on his hand.
Curled up as I am, I require only the slightest shift to fall prostrate. “Your highness,” I say. Two amethysts fall, hidden beneath my down-turned face.
I hear him jump from his horse. His footsteps are soft in the damp earth and stop mere inches from my ear. “Are you hurt?” he asks again, voice full of concern.
I shake my head in denial.
“Then there’s no sense laying in the mud,” he says. He offers a hand and helps me to my feet. He examines my mud-stained silk dress, my rain-soaked hair, the pack over my shoulder. He meets my eyes and says softly, “You’ve been crying.”
I nod and wipe away a tear, or perhaps a raindrop.
“Why?”
I cannot refuse a question from my prince. After months of silence, it almost feels good to have the choice taken from me. I give him the simplest explanation I can. “My mother has driven me from my home.”
Two roses, a lily, three sapphires, and an emerald the size of a blackberry fall into the mud. The prince watches them fall in astonishment. He picks up the lily, running a reverent finger along a pure white petal. He looks at me. His eyes are like a child’s, wide and innocent and bluer than the sapphires at my feet.
“Why?” he asks again, the question barely more than a whisper.
I don’t know if he’s asking why the flowers fell or why my mother cast me out. Since both questions have the same answer, I tell him my story, beginning with the old woman at the well and ending with my flight from the snake-infested house. Gems and flowers pile at my feet, one for every word I speak--diamonds and daisies, pearls and pansies, rubies and roses. When I finish the story, he takes in the bounty through eyes as wide as dinner plates.
The prince closes his eyes and shakes his head like a man snapping free from the effects of a spell. Then he gives me a sympathetic gaze. “You’ve been alone ever since?”
The sorrow in his voice steals my breath. I haven’t heard such sympathy since my father died. My mother certainly had no concern for my emotions.
Struck speechless, I can only nod.
“Here in the woods?”
I shake my head. “I’ve stayed in inns. Traveled town to town.”
Four more flowers. Four more gems. He watches them in wonder.
“With a fortune falling from your lips?”
“I never speak around people.” I catch five pearls and put them with the bounty in my pocket.
He notices the action and his eyebrows rise. “Yet you carry gems with you. It’s a wonder you haven’t been robbed.”
I can only nod in agreement. Nobles with far less wealth than I have been waylaid on these roads. Now that my story is spreading, I’m not sure how long I can safely travel alone.
He holds out a hand. “Come home with me,” he urges.
I step beneath the sheltering trees, shaking my head. “I don’t know you, sir.” Four carnations and one perfect diamond disappear into the undergrowth.
He sweeps into a courtly bow. “His Royal Highness, Prince Simon Everill.”
Propriety demands I curtsy in return, but I do not speak.
Softly, the prince says, “It’s not in my nature to abandon young women in the woods to fend for themselves. The castle often takes in travelers. You can stay for as long as you like.”
I’m not sure if it’s me he’s inviting or the pile of gems at my feet. But what other option do I have? Miles of walking in the rain, to a town I’m not certain will accept pearls as payment? Days upon days of looking over my shoulder and waiting for highwaymen to find me? This prince, stranger though he is, may be my best chance for safety.
I dip a deeper curtsy. “Thank you, sir.” I catch the three seed-sized diamonds that fall and place them into his palm.
He brushes them away. “No payment,” he says. “Not for hospitality.”
But for other things, perhaps? What plans does he have for my future?
He helps me onto his horse, then mounts behind me. What is your name, my lady?” He asks.
“Agnes,” I say. The word drops to the ground as a flawless ruby.
#
Simon and I sit on the hillside, the castle wall a comforting guardian behind us. We laugh as a spaniel chases away a flock of sparrows. Another spaniel, less zealous in our protection, sits with her curly-eared head in my lap. I run my fingers through her fur and feel a warm thrill in my chest. I have food, clothes, comfort, companionship. I have never been so rich, and it has little to do with the store of gems beneath my mattress.
Simon has kept my secret during these weeks. At least he says he has. I’ve gotten strange stares from the servants lately, like they don’t know what to make of me, and during a few sleepless nights I’ve wondered if the story I told Simon has been making the rounds. It’s more likely that they wonder about my extended stay, but I can't quite silence the doubts.
Simon tells me a story of his last visit to the River Kingdom, and I pepper him with questions. When we are alone, I don’t guard my tongue. My words blow away as buttercups on the breeze, and we let pearls scatter on the hillside like seeds for the sparrows. Even if someone were watching from a distance, I doubt they could make out the miracle among the waving grasses.
When Simon’s story is done, I am breathless with laughter. I’ve never met anyone as gifted with words as he is--high praise from the girl whose voice creates jewels.
Simon smiles at me as I wipe tears of mirth from my eyes. “Agnes,” he says, “You are the most charming girl I’ve ever met.”
“Because I laugh at your stories?” I ask, my tone teasing. Daisies dance away from us.
He takes my hands between his. “Because you’re beautiful, and kind, and gentle and generous and you have more patience than I could show in ten lifetimes.”
The praise surprises me. I’ve long known I’m pretty--I do have a mirror--but I’ve never received compliments on my personality. Mother and Olive made it clear that I was a weak, stupid, spineless thing, and given how long it took me to escape their clutches, I’ve never had reason to disagree.
I feel a blush burning on my cheeks. “You don’t need to flatter me.” The words fall as dull, uncut shards of brown topaz.
“Agnes.” His eyes burn like sapphires in the sun, his voice desperate as a man reaching for a lifeline at sea. “I hadn’t known you three hours before I knew there was no woman in the world who could compare to you. Please, marry me.”
He pulls a golden ring out of his pocket. Within it sits the perfectly-cut ruby that fell when I first told him my name.
I pull away, heart racing. I wonder if it’s possible for my eyeballs to fall out of their sockets from behind my too-open lids. “Simon,” I gasp. His name is a diamond that blinds me with its brilliance. “I can’t. I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
The whole universe has been built upon such things being impossible. I can’t explain reality in a few simple words. I settle for saying, “I can’t marry a prince. I have no title. No family.”
“What does that matter? My father would never forbid it. The gift you have is worth more than any dowry.”
My heart hardens like the sapphire that I spit at his feet. My weeks of happiness here fade away like the childish dream they were. This has been his plan from the beginning. The invitation, the conversations, even his silly little story as we played with the spaniels. All given in hope that I would let my guard down and let him claim every word I speak for the rest of my life.
The ruby in his hands now gleams like a drop of blood from my beating heart. He had gone back to retrieve it, without a word to me. Has he hoarded all the other gems I’ve dropped during our conversations? Have I ever seen the real Simon? Or has this all been an act to get me to the altar? I think of Mother in a million moments of my childhood. After her worst outbursts of temper, she would sigh and beg forgiveness, saying such sweet things that I rushed to her open arms, desperate for long-withheld affection. The moment I came within her reach, she would hit me so hard that my ears rang. I am suddenly certain that Simon’s real face will emerge the moment we marry. I will be his precious trained pet, speaking only to fill his coffers.
I would rather live in Mother’s house again. And I would rather die than do either.
I leap to my feet, gathering my skirts.
“Agnes!” Simon leaps up, alarmed.
I back away from his outstretched hand, tears flying. “No!” I gasp. The word is a dead daffodil. “No, never!” The last word is an opal, and I fling it at his chest. Then I clamp my lips shut. I will give him no more of my treasures.
I race down the open hillside. Though Simon is taller, he cannot catch me. Years of living in terror have given me speed. The spaniels race after me, barking in alarm, but I soon outpace even them.
I disappear into the forest, trailing silent, worthless tears.
#
It’s an apple blossom morning. My orchard is full of the fragrant blooms, branches weighed down with millions of pale pink and cream flowers. Matching blossoms fall from my lips as I speak my morning prayers. The flowers land lightly on the rain-dampened earth, a carpet of silk for the would-be queen.
I haven’t seen Simon since last summer, and I’m glad of it. I’m proud of the life I’ve built outside of his palace prison. I spent the first weeks in terror, certain he would send soldiers to scour the country and bring me back to the palace in chains. When my first whispers of courage appeared, I traveled on foot to a northern city, one large enough to hold several jewelers. I sold off a month’s worth of words for a small fortune. I bought a modest house on the outskirts where the city kissed the open countryside. I hired servants from agencies, then replaced them until I found people I believed I could trust. My housekeeper has a moral spine of steel. I speak freely in her presence, and she does nothing more than lift a disapproving eyebrow toward the gems that cover her clean floor. She believes my habit to be extravagance bordering on indecency. My butler is a sweet old man, half-blind and half-deaf. I don’t believe he notices my flowers or gems. I sometimes slip him one as a present, spinning some tale of a grandmother’s jewels that I’m giving away.
The garden I care for myself. I’ve planted some of my word-flowers as cuttings, and I hope they will grow. I think the roses have the best chance of taking root. I spend hours out here whenever the weather’s warm, letting the silence and sunshine and blessed hard labor wash every thought and emotion from me. It is only on mornings like this that I let myself feel anything at all.
Something rustles the tree behind me. In the corner of my eye, I see a million apple blossoms rain down. I turn, expecting to see a bird or a particularly heavy squirrel.
It’s Simon. He stands beneath my apple tree in all his palace finery. He is still pale from the winter, but his eyes are bright as ever. He bends at the waist, an apologetic bow. “Your housekeeper let me in.”
Of course she did. Greta can’t refuse entry to a prince. I’m reminded again of how powerless I am before him.
I stand in silence, waiting for the renewal of last summer’s offer. I steel myself in advance against his declarations of love, his flimsy praises of my person, the lies upon lies upon lies he will spin to snare my heart in his web. I scan for movement along the garden walls. Has he brought servants? Soldiers? If he has, there’s nothing I can do, but I won’t give him victory by showing him how frightened I am.
He doesn’t speak. He barely moves. He could be a new statue I bought for the garden. Finally, he asks, “Are you well?”
I nod.
“It’s a lovely house,” he says. “These trees are exquisite.”
Another nod.
Simon’s eyes stay on the blossoms. “The neighbors say you never have visitors.”
Of course I don’t. My gems can buy a house, but they make a social life impossible. How could I attend card parties and balls with diamonds falling with my every word? A mute heiress is a curiosity, but never a friend.
Simon runs a hand along a branch. A dozen petals fall. “Are you lonely?” he asks.
I am, but I hate him for asking. It makes me sound pitiful. I want to be alone. Loneliness is safe.
A falling tear betrays me. The eyes that can spot a partridge across a field watch it fall to the petal-strewn ground. “I thought so,” Simon murmurs. “That’s why I brought this.”
He reaches behind a tree and slides out a basket. Something inside rustles and whines. I step toward it, too curious for caution.
Simon lifts up a squirming puppy. Russet patches blaze on its white fur. I gasp and run my fingers through the silky curls of its ears. It’s so young and warm and alive. I gather it into my arms and let it lick the salt water from my face.
Puppies don’t care about dowries. Diamonds are nothing more than pretty stones for them to chase. They care about food and fresh air and the sheer joy of being alive. I could have no better companion.
I bury my face in the puppy’s fur. “Thank you,” I breathe, crowning the puppy with apple blossoms.
Simon’s grin makes me think of a summer sky. “She’s fine hunting stock, and I think she’ll make an excellent guard dog someday.”
I don’t care about the future. She’s mine now, and I cry from the sheer joy of having a friend.
Two friends, a tiny voice in my mind insists. Even if this is only a ploy to capture my heart, it’s a very kind stratagem. “Thank you,” I say again.
Simon nods and gathers up his basket. “You can write me if you wish. Tell me how she’s doing.”
My heart shies away from the idea, from another strand that could tie me closer to the crown. But I know what Simon’s dogs mean to him. Refusal would be pointless cruelty. “I will,” I say.
The words fall as a perfect pink pearl. The puppy treats it as a toy.
#
Leaves fall in clumps of color, crimson and orange and gold. Lady wrestles with them while I read my letter; my dog knows better than to disturb me while I read on this bench. It overlooks the orchard and seems the only fitting place to read letters from Simon.
We’ve exchanged more than twenty in the past six months, starting with mere updates about Lady’s health, and slowly expanding to include tales of our days, stories of our childhoods, discussions of philosophy and our feelings about the world. It’s a relief to use as many words as I want without worrying about the flowers and jewels that fall, and I filled five whole pages, front and back, with crossed writing in my last letter. Simon’s reply is nearly as long and I devour every neatly scrawled word, delighting in the sentences that seem to carry the sound of his voice.
His stories are as engaging in writing as they are in person, and before I realize it, I’ve reached the last page. These words have not been crossed; only one set of neat sentences covers the half-sheet.
Darling Agnes, he writes. The endearment shocks me like a thorn among roses. My heart is more yours than it has ever been. I wish with everything I am that those diamonds would dissolve to dust, if it would help you believe that I love you despite your jewels. I repeat my offer from two summers past, and I hope you know me well enough to rightly judge my sincerity. I can only pray you will pity a foolish prince who has done nothing to deserve a wife so far superior to himself.
The pages of the letter fall like flakes of snow, and I tremble like the leaves that cling so precariously to the apple trees. The last months dissolve like a dream and I’m back on that hill outside the palace, back in the cellar with my blossoming bruises. Love is real, I know, but it is never given to me. Simon cannot be offering it, not truly. These months of friendship have been glorious, but a few heartfelt letters are not the same as agreeing to be a man’s wife, giving him my heart to treasure or cast off at will. He will cast it off, I know it. In a day or a week or ten years, it will be thrown into my face as a weapon, my heart aching all the more because I gave it so freely to someone who despised me.
I race into my writing room, pull out a paper, and dip a quill in the ink. My hand shakes violently, but it doesn’t matter. The page only needs one word.
No.
#
Snow covers the garden like diamond dust. The jewels I speak disappear into the drifts behind the house. I cast them out for Lady to chase, and my words of praise provide gems for the next game.
When Lady tires, we walk to the front garden. Two of my yellow roses took root last summer and have become tiny spindles of bushes. I brush the snow from their branches to keep them from being crushed. Dogs and roses--the only things I can safely love.
“Such kindness,” says a voice from outside the gate. I look up to see a gray-haired crone in a ragged cloak. She smiles with crooked teeth. “Do you have any for an old woman?”
I hurry to the gate, reaching under my cloak and pulling coins from my purse. I regularly exchange my jewels for coins now, and I always keep a supply for the poor. I place five of the largest in the beggar’s hands, enough for a month of meals and a comfortable room.
The woman gives it a satisfied smile. “Bless you.” She tucks the coins into her glove. “You’re seen as something of a ministering angel among our kind, lady,” she says. “Beautiful and kind and as mysterious as the holy mountain.”
I laugh. I’ve gotten better at holding back my jewels when I need to, so I feel safe saying, “I’ve been very blessed.”
"Then why are you so sad?” the woman asks.
Her gray eyes pierce me, making it seem pointless to hide my secrets. I give her the least dangerous part of the truth. “I have no family.”
“Girls with that problem usually try make one of their own. A lady like you must have a hundred beaus to pick from.”
I pretend to cough into my hand, and I slide eight tourmalines into my purse. “Only one,” I say.
“And what a one,” the woman says, leaning over a fence as if to share a secret. “The prince himself pining away for you in that great palace.”
I gasp and forget to stop the daisies from falling. “How did you...?”
“Half the town knows about the royal seals on those letters,” the woman says, “and knows the postman hasn’t seen one for four months, about the same time that the prince stopped attending social functions.”
My blush burns so hot that the beggar could warm her hands by it.
The woman places a comforting hand over my trembling one on the rail of the fence. “You’re being very unkind to that poor boy. Do you think you’re the only one in the world with a good heart?”
It’s like she sees into my soul, and I suddenly remember a gap-toothed woman by a faraway well who knew my history just by looking at me. This woman is shorter and darker-skinned, but those gray eyes hold similar secrets.
So I speak to her like I’ve spoken to no one else--pitiful, pathetic words. I sound like a frightened child as I reply, “It’s the only heart I can be sure is good.”
“Nonsense. Ain’t you talked to him? Seen him? What has he said, promised, done? Has he ever been cruel? Angry? Wicked?”
No, no, and no. He gave me shelter, friendship, love. He let me run away from him. He brought me Lady. If he wanted my jewels he could have sent a hundred men to drag me back to his palace in chains, but aside from the ruby for my ring, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him touch one of my precious words. The only monstrous things he’s done have been inventions of my own terrified imagination.
But my imagination won’t give up so easily. “He could be one day.”
“So could you,” the woman counters.
“I couldn’t throw him in the dungeon.”
The woman closes her eyes and sighs. “Love is a risk. Trust is a great gift. Will you hoard it all for yourself or find the courage to give it away?”
I let out my breath in one long, weary sigh. “I don’t know if I can,” I say. The first words are daisies and chips of diamonds. The last one falls as a perfect ruby in my gloved hand.
The woman presses both her hands around the hand with the ruby. When she pulls them away, the jewel is set in a ring of pure gold.
“Try,” she says.
#
Simon steps into my writing room, looking disheveled and a little bewildered. He brushes snowflakes out of his hair and steps toward my desk. He holds up a hastily scrawled letter. “You called?”
I step toward him and place the ruby ring in his outstretched hand. “I would like,” I say, the words creating a bouquet of roses in my arms, “to make a proposal.”
#
Simon and I kneel before the priest. The pearls from a thousand grateful prayers are draped in long chains across our shoulders and arms. Simon is radiant, a million silent words speaking of his love. He makes his vows with unhesitating enthusiasm, then the priest places the same questions to me, asking me to take Simon as my husband, whatever may come, to the very end of our days.
“I do,” I say.
The sapphires that fall from beneath my veil gleam like tears of joy.
#adventures in writing#fairy tale retellings#diamonds and toads#so i've been wanting to retell diamonds and toads for forever#specifically focusing on a happy ending for the kind sister because retellings tend to take the cynical view#and/or focus on the snake girl as if she got the better end of the bargain#and yesterday i reread the tale and this story attacked me and wouldn't let me go until i wrote it#i spent a long time on it today#the ending is rushed#but it's what i got#so enjoy
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Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 2 - Auction
LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST
Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon
Genre: angsty wangsty
Taglist: @hyunvelies
“You no longer own me.”
The guppies in the tank that spans nearly half the space of the wall flush around, their brightly colored and flared tails gently wading in the water. Juyeon gently taps on the glass, the yellow guppy swimming towards him instead of away. The shelves are stacked with books on marine life and nature, posters of the Northern Lights dawn the walls if they weren’t covered in the latest Apple commercial poster.
He hears the hurried footsteps before he hears his assistant, who is huffing by the time she’s at the door of his office. “Anything urgent, Miss Young? Forgive me if I imagined I told you that I would be unavailable until after lunch.”
“Sir, I think you should see the news. I know why your parents aren’t in office today.”
“What?” Juyeon finally pulls away from the tank, worried eyes scanning his assistant. She’s well-dressed, has short hair and ruby cheeks. She looks like she belongs in high school. “Anything serious happen? An accident?”
“Um, no, it’s just--”
Ring ring
Lee Juyeon turns to the phone set on his table, then side-eyes Young Jin Seol, feet turning toward the device.
“No, sir! Wait, before you--”
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Mr Lee. We’re calling from The Board to request your availability tonight for a press conference regarding today’s updates.”
Juyeon scoffs gently, standing straight up and resting a hand on his hip. He turns to look at Jin Seol, eyes filled with caution, as if they meant to say I told you not to pick it up.
“I’m sorry but... what updates?”
“The change in ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS and the marriage.”
There’s a brooding uneasiness in his gut as he processes the heavy word. In the world of corporate under The Board, the word ‘marriage’ is nothing but a contract.
“Remind me who this concerns?”
“You, sir. The marriage between you and Kim Jang Won. The Board would like your presence during a press conference to address the marriage as well as the following change in ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS.”
It’s like Medusa has just stared him straight in the eye, for Juyeon fails to respond in any way possible.
“Uh... sir? Hello? Mr Lee Juyeon?”
Jin Seol rushes over, able to hear the voice on the other end calling out to him. She grabs the phone and presses it to her ear, eyes plastered to Juyeon, whose lips seemed to be whitening. “Hi, this is Young Jin Seol, Mr Lee’s assistant. He’s not feeling very well now, so I’ll get him to give you a call later regarding the press conference, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, um, of course. But we’d like to have details settled by 1pm later, Miss Young. If it’s not too troubling to relay the message to Mr Lee.”
“Rest assured, he’ll...” Jin Seol watches Juyeon trudge to the couches sitting before the tank, sinking into the soft cushion and pressing his fingers into his closed lids. “I’ll make sure he gets back to you by then.”
Juyeon can feel the skin on his chest stretch when he sucks in a deep breath. The nonsensical thoughts start to crowd his head in the most logical way possible, if that was even possible. Luckily, the only thing he could hear was the bubbling of the oxygen pump in the tank.
He hears Jin Seol return the phone back into the phone set before he finally opens his eyes, vision a little blurred from the pressure of his fingers.
“I could schedule them in straight away but I have a feeling you’d want to talk to your parents first, Mr Lee.”
Juyeon brings his palms down to his nose and mouth, lips perpendicular to his index finger and his thumbs under his chin as he focuses on the table before him. The white tulips in the vase have already started to brown.
“Schedule them for lunch at 11 and I’d like to be left alone from 12.30 to 1. I’ll call The Board myself afterwards,” Juyeon notes the coldness in his voice, an element he doesn’t even recognise much. “My parents and I have alot to talk about.”
The Director of Chang’s Funeral Services personally flips open the file, turning it and sliding it across the table to the siblings sitting opposite them. Mr Chang would’ve shat himself if Kim Jang Won had come alone - she doesn’t have the title ‘Hera’s Princess’ for nothing. It’s a good thing ‘The Prince of Artemis’ had come with her. But maybe that’s just it, isn’t it?
What if he pulled out a gun and shot me right now?
Younghoon’s eyes conscientiously process the printed words on the document, his sister a little too over the edge to be paying attention to anything.
“We-- Um, carried out an investigation and realised that the bodies were... well... mismatched.”
Younghoon listens, but his gaze is still on the carbon print. The file was labelled KIM JO-PIL but the papers in the folder belonged to someone else. Someone else’s body. A common city address.
“Have you excavated the body?”
“In progress, Mr Kim. They should be calling any time now for after identification.”
“I don’t suppose you have the documents for Kim Jo-Pil? The ones that were supposed to be in this folder?”
“The thing is... I remember seeing the documents. My colleagues have too. The people in charge of your father’s burial saw it too. But... if it’s not in this office then frankly, I’ve got no clue where it would be.”
For the first time in 3 hours, Jang Won actually looks somewhat understanding, sympathetic, empathetic. Younghoon shuts the file and slides it over to Jang Won when she sits up in her seat.
“If you don’t mind, we’ll take the file and contact the deceased’s family. When’s that body identification phone call coming in?” Then the 3-hour streak is lost, and Younghoon sighs exasperatedly, out of her peripheral vision. “Taking mighty long for a simply body identification, no?”
Flustered, Mr Chang fumbles for the phone set sitting in the corner of his desk, hurriedly dialing a number.
“Where do you think he ran to for 2 years?” Jang Won squints at the deceased’s information. “Why 2 years?”
Younghoon runs a hand through his hair, probably worth about half a million Korean Won. “You ask me as if I know any more than you do.”
Mr Chang is finally talking to someone. Jang Won’s focus fixates on something familiar at the bottom of the page.
“That’s because maybe you do,” Lifting the file, she points to the bottommost section.
LAST OCCUPATION:
PHOTOGRAPHER FOR ARTEMIS ENTERTAINMENT GROUP
“It’s your company and subsidiary. I’m surprised you don’t recognise the name.”
“I might own Artemis but I don’t personally know all 278 employees. If he’s a photographer and I don’t recognise him, that means he’s in another department. Women, or children or product. I’m only listed as a model under the ‘Males’ department.”
There’s a silence in the air that allowed Younghoon to hear the gears churning in Jang Won’s head. The appearance of Kim Jo-Pil, 2 years after his supposed death, has just dragged both his children and everybody else related into a mess of a puzzle. But Younghoon has no doubt his sister can find all the pieces, much less draw the connections.
There’s a reason why she could build HERA & ARTEMIS from the ground up.
Mr Chang finally hangs up, sighing heavily as he looks at the powerful siblings over the rim of his glasses. “They’ve confirmed. The body in the coffin you saw your father in belongs to the man in the document.”
Younghoon chortles in disbelief. “Right then. So our father did die, but someone managed to swap the bodies before it was lowered, and then proceeded to keep him alive for the next 2 years.”
Jang Won flips and finds a portrait of the dead man. “Question is... who?”
Younghoon stands up first, thanking Mr Chang and tapping Jang Won as he turns for the exit of the office. The Director doesn’t even get a chance to bid his goodbye when Jang Won leaves, behind Younghoon.
Escorted by four bodyguards, the siblings walk side by side with her heels clicking against the floor. Upon reaching the first floor, the lift doors ding open into an array of reporters hustling outside the entrance.
“Get them out of my face before I ruin their lives!”
The guards rush before them, hurriedly trying to disperse the crowd. Jang Won pulls out her sunglasses, covering her eyes.
“Time-wasting assholes.”
The shouted questions are loud and intrusive. The short distance of a few tens of metres feel like a mile from all the shoving and yelling. The flashes refuse to cease, but they’ve been in the spotlight for so long, it just gets annoying.
BREAKING: KIM YOUNGHOON AND KIM JANG WON SPOTTED AT CHANG’S FUNERAL SERVICES - KIM JO-PIL CONFIRMED TO HAVE BEEN SWAPPED OUT BEFORE BURIAL TWO YEARS AGO
Juyeon turns into the private room the restaurant manager has led him to, leaving him at the door whilst his parents gawk at the headlines blasting on the screen mounted to the wall. There’s a picture of Kim Jang Won and her brother getting into a car right below the headlines.
“Quite a mess, isn’t it?”
Both of them whip around to see the young man standing by the door, pushing himself off the frame and strutting into the private room. The whole fit he was wearing could buy a short vacation. His father reaches for the remote and shuts off the television.
“I expect nothing less from Kim Jo-Pil, given the history of HERA & ARTEMIS. It was just a matter of time before his daughter took over and turned it into a multi-billion name,” His mother sings, fingers around the base of a glass of wine and carefully swirling the blood-red liquid.
Juyeon sits, and a waiter comes by to fill his glass with wine. The gentle whir of the air-conditioning in the room is the only source of noise, other than the waiter taking his leave. Juyeon picks up the glass, raising a brow as he brings it to his lips. “I expect nothing less from my own parents when they are about to put me up for a certain type of contract,” He pauses, the glass in mid-air. “Say... a marriage.”
His lips meet the curve of the glass and he takes a sip.
“We wanted to tell you before we agreed, but--”
“But the money’s more worth?” He winces from the alcohol in the wine, frowning and offering a sarcastic purse of his lips. “I can imagine. All that stuff you have at home... you know, grand piano worth five million, a kitchen big enough for a herd of horses-- oh, not to mention the actual stable of horses... Yeah, I guess... I guess I could empathise with how you needed more than those. Planning a re-deco? I might know some great architects.”
“Juyeon...”
“No, no,” Placing down the glass, he waves his hand. “Let me put things into perspective for you. After all, gotta make the homework I did on my way here worth it right? See if it’s correct.”
Juyeon clears his throat and cracks his knuckles, knowing that his parents are offering him the most miserable looks they’ve ever given him in his life.
“The Board announces Kim Jo-Pil’s return. HERA & ARTEMIS goes back under his belt, leaving Kim Jang Won, current owner and might I say, the very reason why HERA & ARTEMIS is as good as it is today, jobless and absolutely helpless in a ditch. The Board then passes a rule, one which I have never heard before in my life, maybe because it’s never happened before, but... in order for Kim Jang Won to re-obtain some kind of ownership or at least some part of HERA & ARTEMIS, she must marry a name attached to The Board. And the two of you, seeing how rich and successful Kim Jang Won has made HERA & ARTEMIS, snatched the offer up first and put me on the stage... for auction.”
“Auction...!”
“Correct me, will you? Because that’s exactly what I think you did. What, becoming the next director of Apple-Korea isn’t enough for you? Owning the Korean branch of one of the largest tech companies in the world isn’t enough-- you must have a fashion-retail company?!”
The entire room falls into heavy silence. The waiters knock before entering with some seafood appetizer. Juyeon sucks his lips between his teeth, nibbling anxiously on his bottom one.
“Juyeon...” His father waits for the waiter to leave. “We... we just wanted the best for you. You know how powerful the Kim family is. Any remote connection to them will do us good. It’ll do you good.”
He scoffs and rubs his forehead with his index and middle finger. “I really have no clue what’s going on in those heads of yours sometimes.”
“I don’t know why you’re so against this, Juyeon. It’ll be helpful to you in your future!”
“As opposed to what? Wanting to be a marine biologist? Wanting to study the waters and nature? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
Thinking that his father would hush his mother, Juyeon is surprised when he doesn’t.
“Wow, really? Nothing?”
Silence.
His mother picks up a fork.
“Very nice to know that you’re treating me like a piece of property instead of your son.”
Juyeon pulls the napkin off his lap and stands.
“Oh, and uh... Don’t wait for a wedding invitation. You’re not getting one.”
“Juyeon!” His parents collectively exclaim in disdain, eyes widening as he struts towards the exit and out of the room.
“What? You auctioned me off! You no longer own me, right?!”
Juyeon huffs angrily, hands running through his hair and ruining his own efforts of waxing his hair. He enters the lift, multiple staff members looking at him stride into the metallic box, confused. His fingers search for his phone in the pocket of his blazer, the device buzzing non-stop from the headlines and messages and emails from broadcasting companies and companies he couldn’t give two shits about.
But when the lift doors open and he sees the Kim Jang Won standing right outside with the same suit and sunglasses he had previously seen her on TV with, his eyes widen with a mix of surprise and distaste.
“Well, if it isn’t Kim Jang Won... or might I say, my fiancé?”
“My dad couldn’t have done this on his own. I have a theory, and multiple plans to fix this mess of a shitshow, so I’m here to figure out if you wanna be in on it.”
Juyeon scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets, stepping out of the lift and staring down straight at her. He attempts to search for her eyes through the chocolate-brown shade of her sunglasses, but fails.
A tiny smirk crawls unto her lips as she pulls it off, her bright, sparkling, manipulative eyes ignite some flame in Juyeon.
Because that’s just how smart and cunning Kim Jang Won is.
“I know you don’t give a shit, Lee Juyeon. About The Board, about the marriage, about Apple.”
He chuckles, teeth wiping his canine teeth as he pulls his shoulders back. “So you Googled me. Should I be impressed?”
Then his phone buzzes and he pulls it out in a bid to display some kind of disinterest.
Young Jin Seol [12.13pm]: The tulips are here! [photo]
He blinks, eyes travelling from the screen to the most powerful figure of his generation under The Board.
“If I could find this out from Google, I think you should revisit your privacy logistics,” Kim Jang Won squints one eye and raises her brow. “I’m not here to confuse you or piss you off, Lee Juyeon. I’m here with an offer, to save both our asses. I want HERA & ARTEMIS back but I cannot do it if I have no link to it.”
“What’s in it for me then? It’s not like you can buy me a degree in marine biology.”
“I can’t but you could have the freedom to do so. I’ll pay for you to start your own company. Whoever said you needed a degree to do what you wanted to do? In this world... all you need is money and a little bit of brain... but!” She points to him her sunglasses. “You don’t have to worry about either because I’ve got that covered. All I need you to do is get down on one knee -- willingly -- for the whole world to see... and I’ll give you your freedom.”
Juyeon sucks in a deep breath so hard that he wheezes and Kim Jang Won could not be any more satisfied with herself.
#juyeon#tbz#the boyz#the boyz juyeon#juyeon fanfic#juyeon scenario#juyeon scenarios#lee juyeon#lee juyeon scenario#lee juyeon fanfic#the boyz lee juyeon#tbz juyeon#love me a little less
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american idiot - chapter one
link to wattpad story // link to series masterlist // link to writing
word count: 2.7k
warnings: the bowers gang, weapons, violence, basically the whole thing (if you're not comfortable with violence or abuse -- which henry faces during the movies and during the book -- then i recommend you don't read, but i'll try to tag appropriately!)
a/n: i hope you don't think it's ass but this is probably going to come out every other friday or so but this is more of a trailer than the start of the actual series
HENRY DIDN'T REMEMBER a better time in his life than when he heard the news that Tommy 'Gun' Lee was coming back to Derry for the summer. To him, nothing topped the moment where is dad was slurring over his dinner (leftover hot dogs -- again), and let it slip that the "ungrateful little bitch" was coming back for a few months over the summer, and that "your whore of a mother" didn't mention if she was staying for the year or not.
He remembered huffing and puffing, grumbling something under his breath before excusing himself, and running to call Patrick like it was fucking Christmas morning.
Something about his darling little sister coming back made his heart race and a smile light up his face, and it was evident from the way he stepped into Derry Middle on the last day of school.
Oh, this summer would be perfect! His deal with Denbrough was over, the gang was all together, and his perfect sister was coming back from San Diego for the summer. Tommy Lee Bowers, he knew, would make this the best summer he;d ever had -- and by fucking God, he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way. Not that stuttering freak or the stupid Tozier kid who's mouth ran a mile a minute or his father's thriving alcohol addiction -- absolutely nothing.
His Tommy Gun would rule that fucking school the second she stepped in to pick him up, and every one knew it.
Word travels fast at Derry Middle, and when it got around that Bowers had a little sister coming, the first thing Bill Denbrough did was panic.
She couldn't be too different, could she?
The same blood ran through their veins, the same color skin on their bones, and most likely, the permanently upturned smirk tattooed to their lips. His hopes didn't improve when he saw the girl himself, waiting outside on the hood of Butch's car, throwing rocks at little kids passing by as she sat patiently for Henry to come outside.
He'd promised her a tour of the school -- it's only fair, he put it, that a queen knows her kingdom before taking it over. Henry had no doubt that Tommy would run the school when it was her time in September. A grade below Tits and the rest of his ugly friends, it would be more embarrassing than anything else to watch them suffer socially at the hands of a twelve year old girl.
(Henry very much looked forward to that moment. So much so, in fact, that he near goddamn skipped his way to the front of the school to open the door so they could start the tour. It helped that he was getting out of math class.)
It was only in the few moments before she walked in the door (immediately claiming the whole goddamn building with a footstep) that Bowers caught him by the bag and dragged him into the bathroom, away from the rest of the kids, and most likely, where he'd lay dying for the rest of the school day and foreseeable future (Stanley refused to shit in the school bathrooms, and seeing as he was the only one on this side of the building, he was screwed.).
Bill had never liked being alone with Henry Bowers. Nothing good ever came out of it, and he didn't want to stick around this time to find out why he'd been pulled into a bathroom and away from the rest of the student population. Henry let go of Bill's bag, letting him stumble around for a second or two before straightening up and backing him up against the wall.
"W-what d-d-do you w-want, B-Bowers?" Bill nearly spat, looking the older boy in the eyes. Henry's permanent smirk seemed to grow a few inches on either side, because he just chuckled softly -- albeit cruelly -- and looked down at the Denbrough boy. Bill could smell his breath, even though the two weren't standing particularly close to one another.
"Well, B-b-billy," he mocked, nearly laughing as he relaxed his posture a little bit and backed away from him. (Any one is passing who didn't know them might have said, "Hey, I bet those two boys are damn good friends.") "I have some news for you and your group of stupid fucking friends, and let me tell you" -- Henry stopped to laugh for a second, like he was cracking himself up -- "it's going to make your life a living hell."
Bill gulped. He didn't think, realistically, it could get much worse.
"You got a free ride this year because of your little brother," Henry reminded, smiling a little bit, seeming genuine. "But the ride's over Denbrough. This summer is going to be the worst summer of your entire life."
(Bill didn't expect him to say anything else -- but honestly, every summer was the worst summer of his entire life. He didn't catch a break from the older boy and his group of goons, but there was a feeling down in the pits of his stomach that told him that this time, this time, for real, was going to be the worst summer vacation he's ever going to have as long as he lives.)
"But I do have a little piece of extra advice I'm gonna give you."
Bill huffed. "You're so generous," he started, rolling his eyes, as he tried to walk out of the bathroom. Henry grabbed onto his backpack, "but I think I'll have to pass with this one."
He was cut off as Bowers kicked him on shin and onto the cold bathroom tiles. So much for being brave.
"I think you might want to hear this." Henry squatted down to look Bill in the eyes. There was still a hint of a smile on his face. Boy, this is gonna be good. "If you think I'm a pain in your ass--"
"I d-do think you're a p-pain in m-my a-ass."
Henry paused for a second, sending a menacing smile, and pushed him back on the ground as he got up and stepped over the boy on the floor, before beginning to make his way out of the bathroom before looking back, before lending Bill a hand to get up. He hesitantly took it and brushed off his pants, lips pressed tightly together as he looked at Henry. "Then you're gonna hate the girl sitting on Belch's car."
"Why's that?" Bill asked, feigning confidence, already knowing the answer. Henry could tell, just exhaling and giving him a big mischievous smile, hands behind his back.
"Not important, but she's not gonna be as nice as I am," he said with a grin, "but I'm just looking out for you, Billy Boy. Wouldn't want Tommy Gun to whip your ass without some working, right?"
With that, Henry left the bathroom, a smile plastered on his face as he went to greet his sister, and Bill raced out of there like his ass was on fire -- warning Richie not to talk to or about the pretty girl sitting on Belch's car.
-- -- --
"Best feeling ever!" Stan groaned, grinning ear to ear as he dumped out everything from his backpack. School had finally let out for the summer — no more stupid math classes or dumb reading assignments and annoying history tests, just Stanley and his bird book for three whole months.
A piece of his own personal heaven. Points if the pretty girl on Belch's hood was with him but hey, he wasn't picky.
"Really?" Richie asked with a grin on his face, "Try tickling your pickle for the first time." Eddie rolled his eyes, but Bill smiled. Stan let out another groan -- not a good one, this time -- even though, if he had to be honest, this seemed like it would be the best summer of his whole entire life.
Richie felt it too, if he were going to tell the truth (as he so rarely did -- or at times, so bluntly did), that this felt like it was going to the be the absolutely best summer he would have for the rest of his life. He had a whole checklist and everything for things he wanted to do (kiss some girls), things he wanted to see (some girls' boobs), and things he wanted to experience (there were a number of interesting things on this list).
And quite frankly, he felt as though every single thing on every one of his lists could be accomplished with the girl sitting on Belch Huggins' car hood, smiling mischievously as she watched the kids coming out of school.
God, did she really and truly look like an angel. Deep brown hair, straight in some parts and wavy in others, came down a little bit past her collarbone (not super cared for, but neither was his), cherry red lips, and a cute line of freckles going across the bridge of her nose. She was the most impressive tan he'd ever seen in his whole life, a very deep beige from the summer sun — even though it was only June.
The top part was being held up by some clip, and Richie could see his own Hawaiian shirt going over her tank top instead of the open button down she was wearing on top. It was lazy looking and careless and little bit disheveled, but that day, Richard Wentworth Tozier II was convinced he saw the hottest girl to ever be created.
Eddie interrupted his dream, snapping him back for only a second. "So what do you guys want to do tomorrow?"
"I start my training," Richie responded immediately.
"Training for what?"
"Street Fighter."
"You're going to spend your whole summer inside of an arcade?" Eddie couldn't imagine that prospect, but with Richie, anything was possibly -- no matter how disgusting it might seem.
"Beats spending it inside of your mother, oh!" Richie's goofy grin came back in an instant and leaned over for a high five from Bill when his hand was brought down by Stan. "And, 'course, my summer bucket list."
Eddie sent him a pity glance, "No girl's gonna let you fuck her this summer, Richie. If they have any brains at all, no girl is going to let you go within a ten foot radius of her without realizing what she's doing." Richie pressed his lips together. Of course Eddie would be cynical, it's just because — "and don't tell me that I think it because I just haven't hit puberty yet!"
Richie gave him a toothy grin, "Aw, shucks, Eddie Spaghetti, you know me so well. When you see a pretty girl, like say, that one over there—" he pointed discreetly towards the girl on the hood —"you'll get that feeling of butterflies in your stomach and just think, 'Wow, I've just seen an angel.' I don't mean Bowers, I just-"
"Yeah, you mean his little sister." Eddie looked up to Richie for a response, only to see him at a loss for words, jaw dropping and face paling.
For once, Richie Tozier was speechless as Eddie laughed and slapped his back as Bill mentioned something about the Barrens and Georgie and finding him — even though everybody had long accepted the fact that Georgie wasn't just missing.
It was like a switch. Everything changed in that instant. It was like she grew fangs and claws, and he watched Patrick look at her like she hung the fucking moon. It was incredibly painful, but he assumed, in a sense, they deserved each other. It took a second before he realized what this would actually mean for him: having to worry about a double in the hallways — a hot double that could potentially fool him into forgetting her Bowers-ness — and someone else to make fun of him in ways that he'd never tjough imaginable.
Sure, Bowers wasn't awfully bright, but he sure as hell was creative when it came down to it.
"Gunner!" Richie heard Bowers (the boy one) laugh as she shoved him in the side, cackling along herself, cigarette never leaving her mouth — opting just to talk out of the side of it.
Oh, so her name must have been Gunner. That's unfortunate, he thought to himself. But then again, she seems awful, so maybe she just deserves it. He smiled to himself. "Tommy Lee, we've gotta start heading out soon."
Wait, so was it Tommy Lee? Or was it Gunner? Was that just the gang's nickname for her? More importantly, if it was, why the fuck would they choose a name like Gunner for her? Nothing was settling about that fact, and although Richie wasn't typically one to spiral, it was hard to control himself.
"You didn't tell me you had friends, Henny!" Tommy exclaimed girlishly, making Patrick spit out his sofa and slam his hand on the car hood, flicking out her cigarette and letting Patrick snuff it out. She put a hand on her heart. "Oh, you've grown up so fast! I remember it was just yesterday you took a massive shit in that kids backpack and had to do forty hours of community service!"
Richie could tolerate a lot of things. One thing he couldn't tolerate though, was not being able to chime in when his story was being used and told all wrong — or mentioned without his name. Luckily, he was spared his intervention by a howling Belch Huggins.
"It was four eyes!" Huggins nearly screamed, warning a howling laugh from Tommy and shove from Victor, followed by a point led by Patrick. "Yeah, him!"
Richie could feel his face heating up, but before he could say anything, the bright blue TransAM was firing up the engine, and was getting ready to peel out of the school parking lot like a man man was driving.
Bill was the first to say anything. "Sorry about that, Rich. Bowers is a real asshole."
"So is his sister," he made out through his teeth.
Richie saw himself as a 'go with the flow' kind of guy, but goddamn it, he wasn't going to let Tommy Lee shit all over him and get away with it.
He was too stubborn, too arrogant, and too proud to let that happen, but with only a second or two of knowing she existed, he knew she was the exact same way. He could get tell it with the way she walked and talker and immediately took control of some of the scariest kids in Derry Middle.
But she wouldn't come out on top of this one.
There's no way. He refused to let it happen. Letting her win would show everyone else that he was just a loser who couldn't stand up to a girl who's was going to beat the living daylights out of him if he looked at her the wrong way.
She already had Henry and Patrick and Belch on her side — an even, if not better, match to four decently sized seventh graders. There was no excuse for them to get beat.
Grinding his teeth and tearing his eyes away from her, laughing mischievous and almost secretly as she put her cigarette out on Belch's hood as not to be noticed by he coo around the corner (Rich didn't know that the cop around the corner was her father who would beat her till she couldn't stand if he caught her smoking) he said, "So, Barrens tomorrow, right Bill?"
And right as Tommy Lee Bowers and her newfound gang pulled out of the parking lot, she and Richie Tozier locked eyes and made a silent pact — an agreement — something they both agreed on — something he'd be thinking about all night and the whole next morning:
Derry is two small for the two of us.
#via.writing#american idiot series#richie tozier series#richie tozier#richie tozier x oc#it#losers club#fanficiton#original character#female character#henry bowers#bowers gang#patrick hockstetter#it 2019#it 2017#it richie#it 1990#stephen king#beverly marsh#pennywise#stan uris#bill denbrough#ben hanscom#mike hanlon#the losers club#eddie kaspbrak#fluff#angst#series
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(Usually I would've just answered your ask but I wrote out this whole thing before realizing how asks work and didn't wanna copy it jdhshs)
@aot--levi--ttd
Ahh thank you so much for the nice ask!! I usually don’t write female reader but since I hadn’t linked to my rules yet before you sent this ask I’ll make an exception! (Though to be honest, even though I've had a female reader in mind writing this, I feel like it just naturally came out gender neutral anyway... I hope that's alright!)
Jotaro, Mista & Josuke getting called late at night by their s/o whose being followed
Jotaro 🐬
Jotaro had stayed up until late at night once again, getting lost in his work
It was already after midnight when he finally got up from his desk, so when he got a call from you he knew something must be wrong
"Why are you calling so late? Is everything okay?"
You told him about what happened, and though you tried to keep your voice calm so he wouldn't be overly worried, he could pick up the panic in your tone.
"Don't worry, I'm coming to pick you up. Just keep walking, and keep talking to me, alright? Tell me what you see."
He did his best to rush over to you. Luckily he knew the city you were in quite well, and thanks to your descriptions, it took less than 20 minutes before he found you.
He immediately ran towards you, even stopping time to get to you quicker, holding you in a close embrace and comforting you as best as he could.
When he spotted the man behind you, he did his best to imprint his face into his mind. What you told him made it unmistakably clear that this wasnt someone with good intentions. Part of him wanted to knock that guy down right then and there, but he decided against it. You were more important.
On the way back home he made sure to hold your hand for almost the entire drive. You were so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you couldnt help but fall asleep.
When you finally arrived Jotaro picked you up and carried you to bed, calmly tucking you in before going back to his office
He finished cleaning his desk and quickly drew a sketch of your stalker with SP's help, before going to sleep as well
When you told him the next day you felt like you'd seen this man following you a few times already, he didn't hesitate to file a police report. He took the day off to spend it with you, taking you out to brunch and a walk on the beach, making sure to distract you as much as he could by telling you his favorite little fun facts about sea creatures, and even picking up a shiny seashell he found to gift to you later.
Josuke 💜
Josuke had been worried for some time now.
You told him you would make a trip into town that day and might not make it home until late at night, but it's been hours now since he started waiting for you to come back. No text, no call, nothing. This was so unlike you, and the longer time went on, the harder it got for him to stay distracted.
But finally, his phone rang - and it was you! Letting out a sigh of relief, he answered your call, only to start panicking once more.
You didn't even greet him, just let out a meek "Josuke?" You sounded scared.
"(Y/N)? I've been waiting for you to call! Where have you been?! Is everything ok? You sound worried..."
You told him you forgot time. Instead of going right home after finishing your errands you wanted to stroll through the city, but you got lost on the way. And on top of that you could swear the man behind you didn't just walk the same way by chance...
"Josuke, I'm scared..."
"Don't worry! I'm coming for you! For now, try to head somewhere with more people. I'll make some calls and then I'll immediatly call you back, ok? I won't be gone longer than five minutes."
He quickly called his friends and told them what's up, and they agreed to help. They all got on their bikes and drove to the city, splitting up to search for you, all while Josuke kept you on the phone, make sure you knew he was there for you.
Okuyasu found you first, doing his best to look even more intimidating than usual, and making it clear to everyone around that you were his friend. He texted the others and took you to their pre determined meeting spot, keeping an arm around your shoulder until the man that had been following you was finally gone.
When you reached the others tears welled in your eyes. Josuke was pacing around, worriedly, while Koichi was trying to calm down Rohan, who seemed stressed as well, and obviously annoyed by Josuke.
Seeing your friends all worried for you, and even Rohan being there... it warmed you up inside a bit.
You ran towards Josuke while calling out his name, the former immediately catching you in his arms.
"You're safe... oh god, I was so worried."
He pressed a kiss to your forehead and wiped away your tears.
"Hey, hey, no need to cry! It's alright. You're safe. You're with me."
When you commented on the fact that Rohan was there, the mangaka's smile he had whole looking at you two turned into a frown and he started at the ground.
"Well, Koichi called me, and I still owed him a favor... besides, what kind of guy wouldn't help in a situation like this?!"
He was the only one with a car, so he drove you home, where you met with Josuke again.
You spent the rest of the evening watching an episode of your favorite comfort show, cuddled up close to your boyfriend, falling asleep next to him.
"No matter what you say, next time I'll make sure to come with you..."
Mista 🔫
You were out buying some new supplies for the gang. Until now you've always had someone along with you to make sure you're safe, but since nothing had happened for the past few months and you insisted on it, you went alone this time.
And of course, this was the day you should've taken someone along with you.
You'd finally gotten everything - it was a real drag to find the candy Narancia wanted for his birthday - you usually would've just gotten any other candy bar, but since it would be his birthday soon and he insisted these ones were the best, you went the literal extra mile and looked through every shop in the city you could think of.
By the time you'd finally found it the sun had already set, and when stepping out of the store and trying to make your way back, you realized you'd gotten completely lost.
You spent an hour wandering around the city, trying to find some kind of building or street you recognized, but it felt like you were running in circles. The exhaustion slowly got to you, and you wanted nothing but to lie down, yet you knew you had to stay strong.
After you arrived at the same street crossing yet again, you realized the man by the street lamp seemed more than familiar. You turned around and walked the other way, looking discreetly over your shoulder to realize you were indeed being followed.
Was it an enemy stand user? Someone who held a grudge against your boyfriend and the rest of the gang? Or just a creep who liked to follow young girls around at night? In any way, your first thought was to call your boyfriend.
"Honey bear? How are you baby? Have you eaten dinner already?"
"Huh? Oi, (y/n), what's up with the weird names?"
"Ah, so should I bring something for you? I can pick up some noodles on the way home ~"
"Hey,, you're acting kinda weird, is everything alright?"
"No, noo! It'll be just like that time two years ago. I got lost going shopping, remember? And then you picked me up and we had some noodles!"
That was enough for him. "So, you got lost and need me to pick you up, but can't say it outright, right?" "Yep!" "I'll be there in just a moment. OI, NARANCIA!"
The two ventured into town, and with Aerosmith's help they managed to find you quite quickly. They ran towards you, and you were more than relieved when you saw them come across the corner.
You rushed to his side and Mista took your hand, pointing his gun at the man following you.
Considering how quickly he ran away it must've just been some rando. Still, you were more than relieved to be with Mista again.
With how tired you were after the day, he offered to carry you on his back and you immediately accepted, holding closely onto him and burying your head on his shoulder.
You didn't refuse the opportunity and gave him a little peck on the cheek, letting you hear that laugh you so loved.
Together you three ventured home, when after some minutes something was off...
"Oi, Narancia? Weren't we supposed to go left here?" "No, I swear it's to the right!" "Hey, wait a minute, weren't we just at this lamppost?"
...you got lost again.
In the end Abbachio came to pick you three up, though not before getting annoyed by your shared idiocy.
Finally feeling at peace, you feel asleep next to Mista on the car ride. Though your life had gotten consistently more dangerous since you met him, you couldn't help but feel like whenever he was around, things were finally alright.
#jjba#jojo x reader#jojo's bizarre adventure#guido mista#mista x reader#mista headcanons#jotaro kujo#jotaro x reader#part 4 jotaro#jotaro headcanons#josuke higashitaka#josuke x reader#josuke headcanons
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