#And I want to find joy in summertime despite that

[crayonurchin]

[kathlare]

masterlist

I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for reading and engaging with the story. Your support means the world to me! To avoid any confusion, I’ve compiled a masterlist of all the chapters in chronological order. Keep in mind, some things might overlap as I occasionally get new inspiration and ideas that will flow into the storyline. I’m also open to any requests or suggestions you may have—don’t hesitate to reach out!

Thank you all again for being a part of this journey. Love you all! 💕

Series - 2024

surprise in the spotlight - Canadian Grand Prix / Governor's Ball

Amelie takes the stage at Governor’s Ball, energized by the crowd and her love for performing. A surprise visit from someone special adds a heartwarming touch, making the night even more unforgettable and reminding her that success is sweeter when shared with love.

between the quite moments

A quiet day in Amelie’s apartment contrasts her hectic life, as she and Lando share laughter, simple moments, and a deep connection, proving love flourishes in the ordinary.

sweet distraction - Spanish Grand Prix

Lando, still frustrated by a race that didn’t go as planned, is distracted by a message from Amelie. As they exchange playful, flirtatious texts during a post-race meeting, Lando becomes consumed by his desire for her, struggling to stay focused as his thoughts keep drifting back to their enticing conversations.

shattered moments - Austrian Grand Prix

After a long flight and worrying messages from Lando's family, Amelie arrives in London to find Lando in emotional turmoil. The chapter delves into their quiet, intense connection as Amelie comforts him with reassurance and understanding.

balancing act

A glimpse into Amelie and Lando’s intertwined lives as they balance careers and personal moments in chaotic London. Through playful banter, hectic schedules, and quiet shared time, their bond shows the joy and stability they find in their fast-paced world.

it's so romantic in paris - British Grand Prix

Lando surprises Amelie with a spontaneous visit to Paris after his P3 finish at Silverstone. The two reunite with playful banter and intimate moments, enjoying each other’s company as they reconnect in the beautiful city.

stage lights & stolen glances - Summertime Ball

Amelie takes the stage at Wembley for her first Summertime Ball performance, nerves threatening to take over. With her family's support and a heartfelt pep talk from Lando, she finds her courage. As the crowd's energy builds, so does her confidence, bolstered by Lando's steady presence in the audience.

echoes of sacrifice - Hungarian Grand Prix

After Lando sacrificed his race for his teammate Oscar, he feels overlooked by his team. Seeking comfort, he turns to Amelie, who provides emotional support and helps him find clarity.

drunk calls

Lando Norris takes a break from the F1 season in Cannes, enjoying the French Riviera with friends. But despite the stunning views, his thoughts are on Amelie. After a day of relaxing, Lando, a bit tipsy, calls her and unexpectedly pours his heart out.

shifting focus - Belgian Grand Prix

After a tough race in Belgium, Lando feels weighed down by unmet expectations. Alone in the airport lounge, he shares a heartfelt conversation with Amelie, who offers him support and perspective. Her words help him refocus, reminding him that the journey matters more than any single setback.

homecoming haven

Amelie returns home after a week of filming to find Lando exhausted from a tough race and hurt by online criticism. She comforts him, reminding him of his worth. They spend a quiet evening together, with a movie marathon, playful banter, and heartfelt moments. As the night unfolds, their bond deepens, ending in a passionate and intimate moment that reaffirms their love.

sunsets & sparks

Amelie and Lando escape to Ibiza with friends, immersing themselves in the island's lively nightlife. As music, drinks, and dancing fill the air, their chemistry intensifies. When Amelie’s tipsy antics show her affection for Lando, he responds with tender care and love.

sun, fun and a whole lotta you

Amelie and Lando are on vacation in Mykonos, Greece, with friends, unwinding after the party chaos of Ibiza. The sun-soaked days are filled with playful teasing, flirty banter, and unforgettable moments on a yacht, creating lasting memories together.

mullet madness - Outside Lands Festival

Amelie is getting ready for her headlining performance at Outside Lands in San Francisco when Lando unexpectedly visits her dressing room. What starts as playful teasing quickly turns into a heated moment as Lando reveals his surprising new mullet, throwing Amelie completely off balance.

short n' sweet - Short n' Sweet Release Day

Amelie’s new album Short n’ Sweet drops, sparking excitement from a lively New York listening party to playful teasing from Lando and his F1 colleagues. As Amelie opens up about the songs’ inspirations, Lando relishes the attention (and teasing) about his love life.

even miles apart - Dutch Grand Prix

Lando Norris celebrates his second Formula 1 win at the Dutch Grand Prix, a triumph shared with his McLaren team. Although miles away in New York, Amelie joins the moment emotionally via FaceTime with Lando’s parents.

surprise, baby

Amelie surprises Lando in Monaco after his Dutch GP victory. Sneaking into his apartment during a gaming session, she catches him off guard. The chemistry between them sparks as they share a playful and intimate evening, surpassing the teasing banter they’ve shared over the phone.

fuck papaya rules - Italian Grand Prix

Lando grapples with the aftermath of a tough Italian Grand Prix, feeling betrayed and frustrated. As he vents to Amelie, she offers comfort and perspective, helping him process his emotions. Despite the distance, their connection is clear, both yearning for peace amidst their busy lives.

unspoken tension

After the stressful Monza Grand Prix, Lando’s past with Magui resurfaces, creating tension. Amelie, dealing with her own challenges while filming, is blindsided by a gossip post about Lando’s trip with Magui, leading to a confrontation. As trust is tested, emotions run high, and both struggle with feelings of betrayal and miscommunication.

shattered sparks - Video Music Awards (VMAs)

After winning Song of the Year at the VMAs, Amelie’s victory is overshadowed by lingering anger from a recent fight with Lando. Meanwhile, Lando, filled with regret, struggles to apologize, unable to reach her.

unspoken words - Azerbaijan Grand Prix

As the Baku Grand Prix ends with McLaren leading the Constructors' Championship, Lando and Amelie face the aftermath of a tough week. With lingering tension and unspoken fears, a late-night call becomes an unexpected turning point.

electric feel - Singapore Grand Prix

Lando Norris celebrates a key victory at the Singapore Grand Prix, bringing him closer to the championship lead. Despite the distance, he connects with Amelie, and their bond deepens.

showtime - Short n' Sweet Opening Night

Amelie battles overwhelming anxiety before opening night of her arena tour. With her family struggling to calm her, it’s Lando’s reassuring voice on FaceTime that helps her regain control and find the strength to step onto the stage. The chapter highlights the vulnerability and the power of support in overcoming fear.

call it what you want - Amelie's Birthday especial

Amelie’s 23rd birthday was a mix of emotions. After an exciting performance in Toronto, she celebrated with her team but felt the absence of her family and the person she truly wanted to be with. Just as she was settling in, Lando surprised her, bringing warmth and laughter. Their playful teasing and intimate moments made the night feel magical, bridging the distance between them and leaving Amelie feeling loved and cherished.

shit show - United States Grand Prix

After a frustrating race in Austin, Lando shuts Amelie out, leaving tension between them. With a friend’s help, Lando realizes his mistake and must apologize. The distance is heavy, but his honest apology paves the way for their reunion in Mexico, where emotions run high.

a night to remeber - Mexico City Grand Prix

Amelie watches Lando take a hard-earned second place at her home Grand Prix, where emotions run high and victory feels personal. Amid the excitement, their connection deepens, leading to a night of laughter, flirtation, and bittersweet goodbyes... until they meet again.

you are enough - Sao Paulo Grand Prix

Lando struggles with the weight of expectations and the pressures of his growing career. In a quiet moment of solitude, he turns to the one person who truly understands, finding comfort and support as he navigates through disappointment and self-doubt.

tears of triumph - Grammy nominations

Amelie is overwhelmed with emotion after receiving, for the first time, Grammy nominations, a dream come true. As she processes the news on her tour bus, Lando calls her on FaceTime, offering love and pride. They share a heartfelt moment, with Lando reassuring her of his unwavering support as they celebrate together, even from afar.

juno - Lando's Birthday especial

Lando attends Amelie’s Short n Sweet tour for the first time, eager to see her perform live. But when Amelie pulls him into the spotlight, the night takes a playful turn, leaving the crowd cheering and Lando blushing, completely charmed by her.

[aidanchaser]

Right back atcha 👀

⭐⭐⭐

I hemmed and hawed over what fic to do, bc I'm not very subtle about my intentions in my craft, but I realized I haven't actually talked about how purposefully I structured the dialogue in how fair you were in [moonlight] which is a remix of how fair you were in summertime by @ladyofthenoodle.

“Why, my lady, do you wait in the dark?” a lilting voice curled in her ear. ... He stretched out along his branch, and his long, black tail swished mischievously at his waist. With a Cheshire-cat-sized grin, he added, “You are far too beautiful for shadows.” Marinette, despite her fear, returned the compliment with a curtsy. Manners were everything to the fae. So was truth, so she had to be careful not to lie. “I wait, good sir, for the right time and mark,” she said, “and find you too friendly for such shadows.”

I was teaching Romeo and Juliet at the time I was writing this fic, and teaching the scene where they meet at the party is my favorite scene to teach. It's beautiful to watch, the dialogue is precise and romantic, and it is an excellent tool for teaching sonnet structure. So I wanted to mirror that in my fic.

In this opening exchange, Chat Noir offers her two lines that Marinette (as Ladybug) rhymes back, completing the first quatrain as they discuss her intentions.

In the next quatrain, Chat Noir responds with his intentions, both alluding to his avoidance of his father and his desire for her--and she acknowledges her own desire.

The fae dropped from the tree and gave her a sweeping, dramatic bow. “As the moonlight makes nightmares out of dreams, forgive me, then, for lurking out of sight.” Her heart pounded in her chest as he held out his hand in an invitation. She wondered if his hand was a binding invitation if he did not speak his offer. “There’s always more to the night than it seems,” she agreed, and allowed him to take her hand. His hands were smooth and soft, like the pads of a cat’s paw, and even in the dark, his eyes glinted like emeralds. Breathlessly, she finished, “but there’s plenty of joy found in the light.”

This quatrain holds probably the most important line in the fic - "As the moonlight makes nightmares out of dreams / forgive me then for lurking out of sight" is an explicit summation of Chat Noir's internal conflict. The moon is his father's domain, and his only freedom is outside of that moonlight. Light and exposure are not safe for him.

With that in mind, I worked really hard to rhyme sight and light. In this fic, darkness is safety and freedom for Chat Noir, but light is safety for the humans. There's this divide between them that Chat Noir is trying to bridge.

While in Romeo and Juliet, they each offer their own quatrains and break into a shared quatrain for the third quatrain, I instead did paired lines to build quatrains as a partnership, then had the third quatrain break up almost line by line.

“There is enough joy to be found right here,” he said, and pulled her hand up to his lips. Heat rose in her cheeks, and Marinette prayed her glamor hid it as well as it hid her humanity. “And if that is all the joy you receive?” The ears in his golden hair seemed to flatten at her words. He straightened but did not let go of her hand. He took a step closer. “Then that joy is in my memory seared, and I shall take my lady’s cue and leave.”

And, as Romeo and Juliet do, there's this talk of exchanging, giving and taking. I'm fascinated by the concept of love as ownership, of love as something given and taken, and in a world of fay transactions, it seemed perfect to replicate. Marinette cannot take anything from the fay, following goblin market rules, but she is really enjoying this conversation with Chat Noir, so for their shared closing couplet, she makes an offer without making any promises or exchanges that would put her in danger.

“Give as you like, sir, but I may not take.” He tipped his head and curiosity glinted in those green eyes. She wondered if her warm breath or her refusal to accept a trade tipped him off. But he did not shy away from her, did not slink back into the night nor find another fae and raise an alarm. Instead, his soft, cool fingers found her chin and tipped her lips towards his. “Then just enough to relieve my heart’s ache.” It was a gentle kiss, little more than his lips pressed against hers—and it relieved no aches in Marinette’s chest. As he pulled away she leaned into him, chasing the kiss until his hand on her chin held her back.

Chat Noir and Marinette share two more quatrains, and this time the intimacy is deepened not just by shared rhymes but by splitting a line between them:

“My lady teases me so unfairly, to try to give me what I may not have.” “What you gave, sir, was given so sparely. Did you give at all?” “Then let me give half.”

Not only are they having a banter about giving and taking kisses, Chat Noir offers half of a kiss by giving Marinette half of her line that she left open for him.

And after another kiss, Marinette offers an exchange for a third. While Chat Noir refuses her offer because he is bound to fay rules, he leaves his line unfinished just as she did; her offer is rebuffed but he still wants her to give him a kiss. She just can't take from him as that would indebt her to him as part of the goblin market rules, and he can't take from her because as a fay everything is done in exchanges. But she could return what he gave her.

She swallowed hard and gathered her breath. “And will you take my half from me—for free?” His thumb brushed against her lips longingly. “I can’t take for free.” “If you will forgive, may I return what you have given me?” “As my lady may not take, she must give.”

After this third kiss and second quatrain, Chat Noir accidentally gets a taste of her blood. It's an inversion of the goblin market rules; Marinette has not eaten fay food, but now Chat Noir has tasted of human blood, and he is the one who will be left wanting after this exchange.

“I see the forest hides your secrets, too.” It wasn’t just his eyes that betrayed him. His voice trembled, and the words slipped past his fingers almost against his own will. “The darkness is meant to make lies unseen.” “I have told you nothing that was untrue.” She swallowed down her panic, tempered it with hope. He had not alerted anyone else, had not sent for someone to throw the human from the fae’s celebration—or worse, force her into partaking. “I trust my good sir played no tricks for me.”

Their third and final quatrain is divided back to their original exchange on meeting. It's still a unity, still a matched set, but the intimacy is lost as he realizes she's not a fay like him, and she appeals to his good nature not to reveal her secret.

And, though the intimacy is broken, they still manage to sum up their sonnet with a final closing couplet before Chat Noir reveals that he is not just any fay, but is in fact the fay she has been hunting.

He looked for all the world like a man standing at a freshly dug grave. He stepped towards her once more and it took all of her willpower stay where she stood. But he did not reach for her again. Instead, he paused beside her, on the edge of the clearing. His voice was still thick with fear, but a smile played on his lips as he met the eyes of another member of the fae court. He raised a hand in greeting, but his voice was low and desperate as he whispered, “My lady ought to leave while she can.” “I’d be caught before I even began.” He sighed again, and that taste of despair seemed to press against his shoulders with a fresh force. With the urgency of a man approaching the gallows, he stepped into the moonlight.

In tarot, the moon is a sign of secrecy and shadows. It both maintains secrets and reveals them. The full moon, too, is often associated with fay and other magical creatures. For Chat Noir, the moon does not necessarily reveal his true self, but it does reveal his true appearance as a member of the fay court, his true appearance as a fay loyal to his father.

I really liked the idea of pale moonlight washing Chat Noir out and turning him into Chat Blanc. I often use the gold and silver descriptions of his hair when making distinctions between Adrien/Chat Noir and Cat Blanc, that Cat Blanc is a lesser version of his true self, but that Adrien/Chat Noir is the fullest richest version of himself. (Don't ask me what I do with Cat Walker, who famously wears gold. He's not here on purpose.)

So all the imagery in the transformation description is intentional, to turn Chat Noir's gold into something silver, warmth into cold, and intrigue into genuine danger.

At once, the black that cloaked his face and shoulders melted away. The pale moonlight washed him out in pure white. The gold in his hair transformed into silver as his pitch dark ears turned a shade of white far paler than anything that Marinette had ever seen. The soft pads of his hands glinted with finely sharpened silver claws. He seemed to be a moon all his own, reflecting a dimmer light than its source. And as he turned to smile at someone else who called for the fae prince’s attention, she saw his face and gasped. All the joy and mischief that had drawn her into him were doused. Beneath smears of white powder, his warm, emerald eyes had become cold sapphires that, despite the light all around him, refused to offer even the slightest glint. But that wasn’t the part that terrified her the most. More horrible than the dramatic and tragic change that swept through him was the glowing lavender outline of a butterfly’s wings, shining on top of the pale white dust that streaked his face. It was the very mark she was looking for, revealed in the moonlight. Marinette turned and fled.

There's some narration as Marinette wrestles with her affections for Chat Noir, her attempts to reconcile his kindness and sadness with the vicious monster she's been hunting. The sum of it is that in her fear of falling victim to the fay's charms, she overcorrects and determines to kill him.

When she goes to hunt him down at the next full moon, she is herself, not Ladybug. But he recognizes her anyway, because he has tasted her blood.

They meet on the edge of the forest, him clinging to the shadow because in the shadows he gets to be Chat Noir, Marinette on the other edge, still in the light of the setting sun, holding her iron dagger to kill him. This time there is no even exchange. Chat Noir offers his own quatrain, summing up his desire for her:

“My lady,” he said with a smile, though she was wearing her plain work clothes, still streaked with dirt from the gardening she had done that day, “how you’ve lingered on my tongue. Your blood and its taste bind my emotions, the memory of you aches in my lungs, and I long for naught but your devotion.”

But Marinette does not match his rhythm, does not acknowledge his poetry. She is human in this instance and she is also fully rejecting him, so her reply is unmetered and unrhymed entirely:

As he extended a hand to her, she searched his posture for a threat, for a coil in his shoulders before he struck or the glint of his fangs before he lashed out, but she saw none. He was as eager and playful as he was in her memory. Perhaps more desperate and forward. She tightened her grip on her dagger. “You think you can simply woo me back into your arms? You tell me you’ve pined for me, you’ve ached for me, and you think I’m supposed to care? I know what you are, what you’ve done to the humans who’ve dared to come to you vulnerable and lost. You’ve made them monsters, and you’re going to pay for it tonight.”

And as the sun slips over the horizon, they are both left in darkness for the second quatrain. Chat Noir again bids for her affection, this time offering to help her with her quest. He is as much a victim of Hawk Moth as the people she is trying to avenge.

“If it’s the monster-maker that you want,” he said slowly, “then let me offer my assistance. It’s not only humans my father haunts. For his fall, I’d trade my own existence.”

But Marinette is unconvinced and her reply remains in freeverse:

“The fae may not lie,” she said, “but you can twist your words to tell the truth you want. Why shouldn’t the monstrous fae prince convince a human to help him kill the fae king? You get the crown and a target to pin the murder on. You think I want you so badly that I’d give up my humanity to destroy for you? I won’t let you trick me the way you tricked the others.”

And as the moon rises behind her, revealing Chat Noir once again as Chat Blanc, Chat Noir makes his final offer. In true sonnet format, the third quatrain offers a dramatic shift. Chat Noir goes from begging Marinette to save him, either from his intense longing or the curse his father has put on him, to begging Marinette to kill him.

He frowned and stepped closer, out of the shadows and into the point of her blade. As the moon crested the treetops and its light washed over him, every bit of black was whisked away by pure white. His emerald eyes once more turned cold and sad. The white cat ears in his silver hair went flat. “Then kill me, my lady. Death is preferred, when weighted against carrying this curse. Trust that I would rather die by your sword than live by his word. I know nothing worse.” The blade trembled in her hand. He pressed himself against it and a pinprick of blood bloomed in his chest. It continued to spread, staining the white dark and black, as if confirming his claim that only death would let him take back what the moon had stolen.

I'm not subtle about this simile here. The blood appearing black in the moonlight and staining Chat Blanc back into Chat Noir is an intentional suggestion that killing him would free him from Hawk Moth and restore his nature, even if only in death. Marinette could save him by killing him, if she won't save him by loving him.

But of course, she can't kill him, because she does love him. And as she puts aside her weapon, Chat Noir offers her a single line, and Marinette finishes his sonnet.

She lowered her blade. His shoulders slumped, though she couldn’t be sure if it was with relief or regret. “Then what else would my lady have of me?” he asked. “All of you,” she whispered, and his ears perked up, “if you’d have all of me.”

Not only does she finish his sonnet, she offers the summation of the exchange they had when they first met. She could not take from him, afraid to be bound to him; similarly he could not take from her without offering something in exchange. She completes his rhyme and offers a full trade, which is an incredibly vulnerable thing for her as a human, but is perhaps the only thing she could offer.

It was actually hard to have this be the final dialogue of the piece. I wanted more for them, but I felt like writing out another full sonnet would have taken away from the intensity of this moment, and it wasn't as if I could break my structure and finish with some romantic free verse. But I do really like this piece. Even if my poetic meter isn't perfect, I am proud of the overall structure and the narrative here.

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Heyy !!! Can u plz tell me anything about my sm/future spouse and also a channeled message from them

Thanks youu

I’ll see what comes up from spirit.

I’m seeing lush green, waterfalls, the sound of running water, water to cleanse away all the stress of the day, somewhere peaceful, wood cabin, smells of oak, it’s so lush it has to be spring or summertime, I see a picnic, red checkered cloth, wooden basket, some light conversation and laughter, wine and cheese, watching the waterfall with awe

Soulmate message:

I love it here, reminds me where I grew up, maybe one day I’ll take you there, it’s the simple things in life that makes it worth living (I see an orange butterfly fluttering by and they are looking at it, big nature lover, bird chirping) Like this moment. There’s war and the earth is being slowly destroyed but not in this moment, in this moment I’m with someone I love looking at the beauty of the world and feeling grateful to be alive. Maybe if more people could find this energy, the world would be a better place, I’m not sure, I don’t want to go down that thought process (seems upsetting stormy, they really feel effected by the collective as a whole, flannel, lumberjack maybe?) there’s not much going on with me, I’d rather stay in this moment than focus on other thoughts. Let’s just stay here in the peace, the world can turn without us for awhile (escapism)

I feel like your soulmate is urging you to enjoy life more and not let the stuff happening interfere with your own joy and peace, find a way to embrace your life despite everything else.

Card Pull— Work Your Light Oracle

Dance With Life—do something to change your energy

I feel like this card is reiterating what your soulmate said about needing to refocus your energy on positive things within your control. Learn how to dance with life despite the horrible things. That’s the best thing you can do for the planet, it’s not worrying or living in fear, it’s finding joy despite the pain and darkness around you.

Break the chain— ancestral patterns, healing, rewriting the future

You learning to be joyful is not choosing ignorance or overlooking the reality of the world, but it’s actually part of helping heal the planet, it’s part of breaking our collective chains, and it helps us collectively rewrite the future.

Find a way to dance more! Hope this helps or resonates.

[bridgertonbabe]

I’m reading your Violet & Edgar story, so that then i can read the Benophie Blip, and I’m loving it so much!!! your portrait of Violet is exactly how I imagined her!

I was wondering, between all the cousins, who do you think bonds more with who?

Also, what do you think are the strongest relationships between uncle/aunt and niece/nephew?

So within the cousins here are a few different dynamics;

When Amanda Crane first met the Basset girls, she did not like Amelia after the eldest Bridgerton grandchild asked her if she wanted to have a tea party, feeling as though Amelia was trying to dictate to her what to do. Prior to meeting her step-mother’s family, Amanda had sworn to Oliver that they wouldn’t leave each other’s side, so she rudely turned down Amelia’s offer only to turn around and find that Oliver had already run off with the Bridgerton boys. Amanda had sulked for awhile, glaring over enviously at Amelia and her sisters as they enjoyed their tea party, secretly wishing to join in even though she had rejected them. It was only after some cajoling from Eloise that Amanda swallowed her pride and bashfully asked if she could join them after all. From then on Amanda built up a steady friendship with Amelia, despite being closer in age with Belinda and Caroline. While Belinda was a little too much to deal with and Caroline a bit too on the quiet side, Amelia was the happy medium and Amanda greatly enjoyed her company. They only got closer as they grew up, so much so that in 1843 Amanda “Mandy” Joliffe and Amelia “Amy” Farraday were born only a month apart. 

Charlotte Bridgerton spent the first few years of her life surrounded by her brothers and male cousins, enjoying the rough and tumble of running after them in the grounds of Aubrey Hall in the summertime. The Basset girls were a little too old for her (even if Amelia liked to pick her up as toddler and haul her about, in spite of Charlotte’s desperate wriggling to get free) when she she was younger, but once her cousins Violet, Agatha, Penelope, and Georgiana were old enough to run about, Charlotte took great joy in leading the pack of girls around at family gatherings. She gets along well with her female cousins just as much as her male cousins, though her favourite Bridgerton cousin is definitely Violet.

William Bridgerton is a perfect example of a floater in the family; pair him up with any relative regardless of age, he’s going to chat away to them and do everything in his power to entertain them. He does get a little quieter when he’s among the older male cousins of the family, having been the youngest boy for a number of years before Thomas was old enough to join in, but even then he’s still cracking jokes and nudging his cousins if he finds something particularly funny. 

Edmund Bridgerton and Amelia Basset are the natural leaders of the younger generation, being the eldest grandson and granddaughter respectively. However while Amelia likes to think she’s the epitome of a role model for her younger cousins to look up to, Edmund is more modest of his position and he dutifully ensures everyone is safe while being dependable at all times.

Mary Bridgerton and Janet Stirling have a very close bond and always pair up together at family gatherings. They can be typically sighted holding each other’s hand and running off giggling together but they’re both very innocent so neither one of their fathers ever has cause for concern with what they might be up to. Though there is a rather significant distance between them for most of the year, they’ve been pen pals since they were both old enough to read and write, and it’s a correspondence they keep up for the rest of their lives. 

And as for dynamics between the aunts and uncles with their niblings?

Hyacinth was the adult comrade for her nieces and nephews growing up, being a lot closer in age to a good deal of them and being the ultimate fun aunt - but once they were adults, her nephews quickly realised she was an ally no more but rather a dastardly aunt who took great pleasure in their torment i.e. forcing them to dance at balls. She takes over the mantle from her grandmother-in-law, Lady Danbury, in meddling as best she can with the men of the family, though she does also offer sage advice to the more sensible-minded of her nephews should they need guidance. 

As head of the family, Anthony cares a great deal about every last Bridgerton member, though he has particular soft spot for Charles Bridgerton, the nephew who is often compared to him for their similar temperament. While some in the family think Charlie is quick to overreact when it comes to being protective and defensive of those he loves, Anthony completely understands where he’s coming from and is always there for his nephew when he needs to vent his frustrations. 

Speaking of Charles, he’s also a favourite of his uncles, Michael and Phillip. Michael Stirling always takes a keen interest in the young man considering he was the one who had to deliver him when Sophie went into labour at Francesca and John’s wedding reception, meanwhile Phillip was the one who saved an ailing Charlie when he was a child. Michael and Phillip are always particularly concerned whenever they hear that Charlie has got so much as a common cold; in their eyes, he’s as much their boy as he is Benedict’s. 

[stagbells]

Summerdew and Sweet Kisses

From: @daikoski

To: @strawberryaeris

Written work under readmore!

notes: hello!! i had lots of fun writing this, it was such a joy to work on! it’s my first time writing lacenet, so i hope you enjoy!! summertime love :D

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It’s date night, and Lace has full reign on what they’re doing today.

It’s less of a spoken thing and more a silent agreement that one of them can take the lead and decide what sort of day the two will share together. Whether it be cozying it up at home, or working on individual projects with the other close by, going hunting, or seeking out a new activity to share, most of everything is free game when it comes to them. 

To which, she’s deliberately chosen something new.

Hornet had mentioned one time, in idle conversation, that she’d never really swam for the sake of it. If anything, it was a shortcut, if she couldn’t easily cross the body of water with her needle and silk. That she hadn’t really considered it as a fun passing of time, a recreational activity of sorts.

Well. Neither had Lace, but the thought of it now sounds far more appealing now that they’ve both claimed better lives for each other, for Hornet’s family, doesn’t it? It’s safer now, and they’re easing into a life beyond just fine, but something good instead. 

And... there are plenty of beautiful, isolated spots within the land that Lace has seen, and what better to enjoy it than with her darling? 

And what a pretty little area it is too; a pond, hidden within the depths of a lush grove. hidden, but with evidence of prior life, if the cute wooden dock is any indicator. The surface of the pond is scattered with aquatic plants in little vibrant clusters, pearls of colour that sway with the breeze. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to enter the water, dear?” 

From her spot, with Hornet sitting perched on the dock, dangling her peets into the water and swishing them around in such a way that makes Lace laugh, before settling her always so composed regard on her, she looks nothing less than perfect. And also very wary of getting wet beyond that.

Cute. 

“I’m considering it,” is just enough of a not-response that Lace hums, a touch understanding, a touch mischievous. Ah yes. She’s considering it. 

Hornet has been sitting on the edge of the dock for almost an hour now, the two making idle conversation as they enjoy the balmy air that’s heavy-sweet with ripening fruits and bright flowers, hot to the point of being almost unbearable, but alas, she is still considering it. 

Such a shame.

Lace splashes the unsuspecting spider. 

Not a full-on wave, of course, she isn’t that mean, but as of now, a little urging on her part wouldn’t hurt, and Hornet immediately shields herself from the water. The top-half of her cloak is soaked.

“Lace—!” 

“Yes?” Her voice as innocent as she is not, she merely swishes her hands within the water, propelling herself back a bit from the dock before holding her hands out in gesture, as if to catch Hornet if she were to dive in. “My, dearest, do you need any help with that? You’re already halfway there!”

“My silk is going to melt, and my things could rust...” 

“A little water won’t hurt, but if you need a place to keep them, there’s a little nook over there that’ll keep them safe.” Shrouded by bits of sweet grass and soft soil, it’s a perfect spot to keep anything important safe. Besides, they’re both well aware that both of their belongings are far sturdier than that...

“If you had wanted me in the water so bad, you could have asked.” 

Kind of haphazardly, more deliberate than not, Hornet unburdens herself of all the little tools and trinkets she keeps within her cloak, before finally sliding into the water. (It’s a mess, but a mess that she understands and who is Lace to question that.) 

“There. I’ve removed everything from my pockets, and I’m here now.” Her tone is just a touch grumpy, though that’s easily dismissed with the way Lace can feel the faint stutter-rumble of her purr as she rests a hand on Hornet’s chest.

“Cute, but I think the little questions I’ve scattered into our conversation were not given much heed.”

“Maybe if you asked again...” Ah, now that is most certainly petulance. “You’re enjoying making a fool of me today, aren’t you?”

Hornet’s claws are carefully gripping her own, smaller hand, and Lace brushes the pad of her thumb over her now damp fur. The distant, light waves that carry them ever so slightly kind of pushes her to Hornet, and she can only smile wider at the way her lover’s claws go to brace her gently.

“Ahh, my apologies, I'm not trying to be mean!” 

“Really.”

“Mm. At least, just a little bit.”

“So you do admit it.”

“And you must believe me, dearheart, when I say I have no ill intent~!” 

Intentionally, Lace lets her mandibles curl in a teasing, honey-sweet manner that always has Hornet unable to look away for just a little bit, and she relishes in the attention just as much as the way her darling swats a wave of water her way in reciprocation.

Because even if she says it in a teasing way, going so far to jab her elbow lightly into Hornet’s side with a laugh, she hopes that the cute spider knows she means every word of it. 

Because she’s something wonderful, isn’t she? Direct in a way that’s refreshing, because how often is it that Lace gets to experience something like that? Sharp and honest (and even if she does sometimes struggle with expressing her feelings, she’s still honest) and it’s in such a way that makes Lace want to be the same towards her, be something more open, more real.

...Weird concept, and Lace finds herself laughing to herself, just a little trill of delight. 

Yes, but nothing could ever make her stop wanting to tease the spider. Her reactions are so cute after all! 

But, her sappiness can be saved for later. Not when there’s currently the cute culprit of these thoughts right in front of her. It’s fun to splash around and goad her dearest on into something of a playfight, one that results in the both being absolutely drenched, but it’s just as nice to relish the coolness of the water against her shell, and in turn be able to admire the many facets such a new experience has brought upon Hornet’s visage. 

Cute.

Such as the vague flit of surprise that had so graced the spider’s face when Lace had dunked herself beneath the water; not so many bugs feel comfortable doing such a thing, after all. Or the fond, subdued smile that quirks her fangs just so with each sharp banter that slips so naturally out. It’s nice. 

And when the sunlight becomes something a bit too bright and Lace can see the films of Hornet’s eyes try to flick up as she winces from it, she can’t help but bump shoulders with her, before drawing her hand over the smoothness of Hornet’s mask in an unsubtle way of blocking the light, for even just a moment. 

“You’re getting water in my eyes,” Hornet half-protests, fangs scrunching but looking so much more relaxed now, and Lace can only think of it as a job well done. 

She had purposefully made it so that they would go out later in the day anyways; noonlight was something so sharp sometimes, but alas, even in the evenings can the sunlight bother her dearest like so. They continue like that for a good while longer, idly floating about and conversing, one instigating another splash war on occasion.

It’s all fun and games until they have to get out of the water.

Hornet, the poor little thing, looks just a bit miserable as she works on flicking the water from the tufts of fur that lines her body, chelicerae working ever so slightly concentration. Well, it’s good she’s come prepared.

“Here you are, lover!” Easily tossing a towel around Hornet’s shoulders, Lace gives it a light tug to pull her spider down to press a little kiss and a nuzzle against the side of her mask.

“You planned for this.” Hornet is nothing short of accusatory, and she laughs, just letting a playful hum be her response as she helps tumble dry her.

“What, to trick you into the water so I can give you a kiss?” 

Could it really be considered such a devious plan when she was planning on kissing her either way? Endearing thought, especially since Hornet herself is the one to go through some length to muster up something as direct as asking for a kiss. Usually all she’d need to do is start purring up a storm to leave Lace as the one giving the kisses!

At some point, Hornet had cuddled up to her, both drying beneath the steady heat of the sun, but indulging in the warmth of one another for as long as they were allowed. Laying back onto the wood of the deck, peaceful and soft and warm, where the only sounds were that of trickling water and slowing breathing.

Despite appearances, Hornet can be quite the cuddler, curling herself as close as possible to Lace, little tail and everything looping around her as she dozes. Well, this is her fate now. 

She doesn’t have the heart to move and disrupt Hornet from a well-deserved nap, even if the way they cuddle always traps her beneath her weight. Not until the sun begins to fall, and the faint glimmers of the starlight begin to settle in, does Lace think of stirring the spider. 

This is the sight she wanted to share with her, after all. To deliberately take a moment and enjoy the sight the massive void above has to offer, with all its strange mysteries and stories to tell. Stories she only really heard as a grub, but ones she’s more than willing to try and scrounge up to share with her lover if she so asked...

“Hello there, darling,” Lace carefully nudges her girlfriend awake, and Hornet untucks her face from the crook of her neck. “The sky is clear tonight, take a look.” 

(There’s no teasing note to her voice—there’s no need to bring it forth, rather. Not when everything is so quiet, so subdued, and Hornet is still shaking off the last lingering bits of sleep from her eyes, looking so peaceful and comfortable that the sight brings an ache forth in her chest.)

(That this is something they both get to have.)

“It’s night time already?” Hornet murmurs, twisting herself to lay on her back, “Would you not get cold?” The sleepy note to her normally composed and cold voice is something so cute, and Lace leans in to give her a little nuzzle. 

“No, and even if I do, I have you, as well as the shawl you had weaved for me so kindly.” And alongside that, the soft, genuine fondness in her own voice is still something so faintly unfamiliar, yet so nice. She could get used to it. 

Hornet flushes a bit, perhaps at the prospect that Lace had decided to take the gift she had made for her along in case the night air became chilly, before letting a little ‘mrr’ of disappointment out. 

“I am not sure if we should stay out so late...” she begins, before gesturing a bit vaguely, “that, and I had mistakenly assumed we were to return home by nightfall, so...”

Ohh, are her siblings expecting her?

Lace sits up, and unable to help it, stares for a moment. It clicks. Right. They usually go hunting during their dates, two belflies with one stone so to say. 

“Did you leave your siblings at home with nothing to eat?” is her automatic question, more concerned for Hornet than anything else. Hornet sits up as well, adjusting her cloak.

“Not nothing.” Hornet frowns, but there’s a small smile hidden, tucked away beneath her mask and Lace knows she’s not truly upset at her question, “they’re most likely eating as we speak. And if they so happen to finish all of our food at home, neither are the type to allow the other to go hungry anyways...” so they could very well be hunting, too.

“Ah, but I can tell you still dislike the notion of leaving them without a fresh meal.” Lace points out, and Hornet leans into her side a bit. 

“...Yes.”

“Cute! If it so soothes you, my worrier, then we can take a little detour. I wouldn’t mind if this date takes a turn for our usual.” Carefully extracting herself from Hornet’s hold, Lace hops up with ease to swipe up her belongings—including her pin.

Hornet visibly hesitates—and by visibly, there’s the slightest press of her claws against Lace’s arm, just a light pressure as if to gently tug her back to her side—before she too stands. Not one to leave things undone, not one to linger, but oh, so it seems for the both of them, lingering is just so much easier nowadays...

“Apologies...” she mumbles, and whether it be due to cutting their plans short, or the hesitation, Lace hums affectionately to comfort her. “We could stay a little longer?”

“We can always go stargazing another day, my dear. And hunting with you is always a treat, there's nothing to apologize for.” and with a little nuzzle, the two are on their way.

(A part of her delights so wonderfully at the fact she’s come to pick up so many of Hornet’s cues; not when so few bugs can say the same, and it makes her preen with a silly sweet sort of pride. Hers, just as much as she is Hornet’s.)

It isn’t until they’re both following an easy scent trail that Hornet speaks up again, breaking that routine silence and looking beautifully dangerous in the moonlight, needle and silk carrying her onwards.

“...Did you call me your ‘warrior’ or ‘worrier’?”

Pfft!

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

...

“I suppose I’ll just earn back my title as your warrior with this hunt.”

[lemonietrinket]

summertime is for us ||| felix x reader

summary: it’s been months since you’ve seen your boyfriend felix in person, and you can’t wait to finally see him again genre: fluff, a bit of angst wordcount: 1618 music: ambience; ambience an: i wrote this suddenly in a daze as a break from the longer rq ive been working on—my long-awaiting, ever-patient anon, i hope youre ready, your rq is going to be a monster...!

gender neutral reader

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

the breeze wove gently between the windchimes, ringing delicately across the hill where you lay in the grass. nestled in a bed of brilliant green, clusters of daisies gazing up at the sun by your arm, you kept your breath slow as you let the afternoon warm your face. you waited patiently, half in a daze, half on the edge of sleep, for the familiar footsteps to arrive. he was late again, and you would’ve rolled your eyes with a quiet laugh if you hadn’t been so lethargic.

your ears pricked up at a light, quiet thud in the twigs just beyond by the tree. you turned your body gradually towards it, casting a shadow from your shoulder across your face, and peaked through the waltzing dandelions, the silvery fairies taking off from their homes to dance higher and higher until they disappeared into the sky.  it was a small bird. skipping across the ground, its freckled brown tail feathers perked up inquisitively, as it picked between the twigs and grass blades taller than its own head. after a moment it jumped upon a branch, small and hidden amongst the untamed valley. it briefly sang a call—to a friend, a love, the world, you didn’t know—but a smile slipped onto your face nonetheless. it seemed so small in the world, so normal, and yet it sang and made everything seem just that little bit brighter. as what would a peaceful afternoon be without birdsong?

“yn!”

the deep singsong call of your friend came from the top of the hill, mixing with the windchimes and causing the bird to turn on its tail and return to the tree canopy. you sat up on your elbow, shielding your eyes and searched the crest of the hill for the one you were waiting for.  a few seconds later, he appeared and began shuffling down the slope to you, minding the flowers as he went. and then moments later he was steps away, slinging his bag off at the foot of the tree, smile brighter than the sun itself. 

“felix! you’re—oof!” 

giggling, he practically flung himself into your arms, leaving you to yelp as you fell onto your back, arms naturally wrapping round his waist and pulling him into you. “jesus, i missed you too!”

the semester alone had felt longer than any school year you’d been through, you’d ended up messaging him every moment you could, missing his presence every night when the nights got cold. you’d hadn’t needed a second blanket for two years, and the trek to go retrieve one from your drawer only made the room feel emptier. 

but he was here now, and the summer was all yours.

felix pressed a kiss into your neck, before levering himself up and straddling you to sit more comfortably. his dark eyes met yours, glistening with his smile and longing finally ended. “sorry i’m late.”  he didn’t seem that sorry at all, beaming at you, his nose scrunching before he gave in and planted a kiss on your forehead, but it was hardly like you minded.

“apology accepted,” you rushed, stroking his hair as the two of you looked at each other properly for the first time in months. he’d had a haircut, you knew that, and though you’d already seen it, now it had grown out more, leaving soft waves to frame the face that taken your breath away the first time you saw it. it caught the sun above and gifted him a halo,like you were sure he deserved. and how it felt different beneath your fingertips. you could spend an evening just thinking about that alone. same for how he had grown. so far apart, even photos and video calls couldn’t show the smallest of details, the things you cherished the most, leaving you surprisingly startled at the boy you once knew, now seeming even more of a man than he had done last winter. it looked good on him, as pretty much everything did—despite your shock that you got to look upon something so beautiful—but it was also tinged with a bittersweetness. all those days he had grown and you hadn’t been there to see them for yourself, even after knowing him for so long. all those minutes between the times when you were younger and you used to count his freckles like a child. the curse of the childhood sweetheart. it only made you long to see every day with him even more. 

felix meanwhile was also stuck in this wordless awe, thumb stroking your cheek as he stared, precious lips parted absently. lucky for you, you had come to your senses before him. with a coy grin you murmured, “is there something on my face?”

however, he answered too fast for your own heart’s good. “too much pretty, that’s what.” 

“oh ew, blegh, too much cheese, blegh—”

he rolled his eyes before he hushed you, dipping in to take your lips into his. you’d forgotten how soft his lips were, how powerful his touch was. you instantly melted into him, your hand slipping to his temple as his wove through your hair. “god, i missed you so much...” he whispered into your lips, immediately welcoming your lips once again. 

“me too... i don’t know how i’m going to do it again...”

he pulled away slowly, eyes saddening. “i know, but we’ve got to.”

feeling the energy dip, you were about to apologise for ruining the joy so soon—you had weeks before you needed to even worry about that at all—but felix continued before you could.

“and i’m going to be further away than i was before,” he said. 

searching his gaze for any sign of what he meant, you eventually asked, “what do you mean?”

he smiled then, small and conflicted. “i got in on the GLTA scheme.”

your eyes widened as you sat up suddenly. “you got in?!” as soon as he nodded excitedly, you gasped and threw your arms around his neck. “oh my god, baby, congrats! you did it, oh my god—!”

he mumbled a thank you into your shirt as you held him tightly, as if your subconscious knew what this meant. 

“where are you going to go?”

“south korea.”

you held him at arm’s length, a proud grin on your lips, but your hands still tense as you ran them across his arms. “you got into—?! i told you you’re a genius, felix, i told you! god i’m so proud of you!”

he chuckled, but his eyes were already begin to trail away from yours, even as you cupped his cheeks. your elation quickly cooled. “baby, what’s wrong?”

it took a few moments for him to work up the courage to speak, but after he’d settled next to you, you resting on your side to face him, he spoke, “aren’t you... i won’t be able to come back over the winter...”

you couldn’t hide the disappointment that began to gnaw at your stomach, a small sigh leaving you before you could stop it, but you shook your head. “felix, baby, i’ll miss you, so much, but...” you shifted closer resting your cheek on his shoulder, brushing a leaf off his shirt, “there’s no way you can’t take this opportunity, it’s something you’ve always wanted, and i wouldn’t stop you for anything.”

relaxing, he leant back into the grass with a sigh, pulling you into his side happily. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too,” you whispered, closing your eyes once again to listen to the sound of the birds and his heartbeat. “there’s always next summer.”

“there’s always next summer,” he agreed. the two of you dozed in the sun, felix’s slow, rhythmic trace of his fingertips against your shoulder lulling you into sleep.  when you awoke it was to the amber hues of sunset, painting the sky a masterpiece as the breeze picked up, flurrying goosebumps across your arms. the birds had quietened down, their song echoing from further down the hill, crickets taking their place. it wouldn’t be long before night finally fell.

you hauled yourself up and stretched, ignoring the ache in your leg which had been curled up at an odd angle for a bit too long. rubbing the sleep from your eyes you glanced down at felix to find he was still fast asleep. his brow furrowed for a split second ,before his hand twitched and he turned his head, relaxing once again. resisting the urge to coo, your eyes wandered over to his bag in the stretching shadow of the tree. and soon, your body followed, tiptoeing through the grass, to have a rummage through his over-packed rucksack. and, to your luck, there was his hoodie: enough warmth to stay out for just that little bit longer.

you returned to him as you pulled the baggy black over your head before joining him in the grass. you shimmied your hands up into the sleeves for added coziness while you rested your head in the grass besides his. with your sweater-paw carefully shifting his fringe out of his face, you allowed yourself to finally take in every little detail you had missed, both the old and the new, cast in the golden hues of the dying afternoon. 

“one...” you began in a whisper, smile shy and subdued. “two...”

in the embers of the sun, you found yourself counting his freckles, just like you had in your very first summer together. and as the sky turned violet and darkened, the sun lost behind the forest canopy, you finally found the exact same number as the last time you had counted. even with the world constantly spinning around you, he hadn’t changed at all.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

an: hope its not too bad. i wont read it for the next month so i wont know :))))

also my knitting needles turned up!!

masterlist

[baepop]

PRIVATE // 8

Jennie moves in with you. You and Jungkook have a much needed talk.

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairing: Jungkook x You x Jennie

Genre: Smut, Angst, Some fluff if you squint

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Incessant pacing threatens to take center stage in the middle of your action-packed dream. You were driving a car down a steep hill, slowly losing control of the vehicle yet you weren’t in a panic, you were too focused on trying to find the eject button on the dashboard because, of course, the car was now a space ship.

Pat Pat Pat.

Your eyes crinkle then ease open as the morning light floods them, causing you to sigh and turn into your pillow.

Pat Pat Pat

You push your cotton-blend pillow case against your ear lobes to no avail, you’re already awake.

“Jennie, what the fuck.” You croak out as you try to remember what your dream was even about.

“Oh, sorry.” The anxious girl stops mid-step to regard you warily from the middle of the room. Once you sit up and stretch your arms out, she approaches the bed and places herself at the edge ever so gracefully.

You rub your eyes roughly with your fists then take another look at her. It was strange how both familiar and alien it felt to wake up with her like you used to.

“What time is it?” You yawn and turn your head to avoid the rude sunbeams assaulting your dilated pupils. The blinds were collapsed all the way, letting the entire world see into your bedroom.

“I don’t know, 7 AM… I think. I’m so glad you’re awake. I’m freaking out over here.”

You suddenly remembered the shocking news she delivered to you in person last night. Taking in the sight of her knotty hair, worn finger beds and heavy eyebags, you couldn’t help but have some sympathy for the poor girl.

You placed a firm hand on her shoulder after yawning one more time. “Relax. Being poor isn’t the end of the world. I’ll show you the ropes.” You were hoping your lighthearted remark would calm her down, but it only seemed to scare her more. “...I take it the full weight of the snap decision you made last night is hitting you now?” She nodded at you wordlessly with widened eyes. You sighed and climbed out of the bed, last night’s worries coming to fruition. You dragged your feet to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, then to the kitchen to get started on the coffee, making sure to make it extra strong. Jennie followed on your heels the entire time, watching everything you did like a hawk. You paused before pouring the fresh coffee into one of your chipped mugs, looking over at her with a smirk. You felt a little guilty for finding so much humor in this situation, but you couldn’t help it, the irony was just too good. You handed her the mug. “You know, Jennie, it’s okay if you want to take it back.” You offered her a smile which seemed to snap her out of her reverie.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well…you’re clearly not very happy with your decision, I just wanted you to know that it’s okay if—”

“Y/N, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in a long time. Yeah, I’m scared as hell but…I know it’s going to be okay, as long as you have my back. You do, don’t you?”

You cracked another smile and embraced her tightly, much to her surprise. She blushed as she buried her head in the crook of your neck, setting the mug on the counter to hold you properly with both arms. You began letting go to tell her you forgave her for everything, but she clung onto you for dear life, so you chuckled and held her for a few moments more.

As you swiped your palm across her backside in soothing strokes, you felt her jostle under your embrace and looked down to see if she had had enough of the hug only to find her leaning into your face. You swallowed thickly at her rapidly approaching lips mere centimeters away from your own. Your throat went dry as your mouth hung open. You froze in place, unsure of whether this was something you wanted or not. When you didn’t back away or let go of her, she inched in closer, humming and breathing deeply as she closed her eyes. You willed your mouth to swallow a second time, taking turns looking in between her long eyelashes strewn across her cheek bones and her puckered pout, paralyzed with indecision.

As if the universe had taken some kind of pity on you, three loud knocks on your front door jolted both of you out of what could’ve been, much to Jennie’s annoyance and your relief. You cleared your throat and tip toed towards the door, checking the blinds to see who could possibly be visiting at such an hour. When you dipped your finger in between the plastic shells and bent down for a closer look, you were able to make out Jungkook anxiously checking his watch on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your heart squeezed at the site as you suddenly remembered it was only a few hours ago since you said goodbye right where he stood. You smiled down at yourself and backed away to open the door, but your fingers hesitated when turning the doorknob. Did he know about what Jennie did? Was that the only reason for the grand romantic gesture? You were starting to feel like the other woman who had to settle for only having a relationship whenever your boyfriend’s wife wasn’t available.

You sighed and opened the door. Jungkook’s head snapped up with the most dazzling smile that threatened to put the vibrant morning sun to shame. It was so heartwarming and full of joy that you couldn’t help but smile in return despite your initial look of concern.

He extended the flowers to you and you took them, but neither of you broke the ice for a few moments more. Eventually, Jungkook cleared his throat and began, “So…I know we just saw each other but I just had to tell you something important—”

“Jennie already told me the weddings off.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “O-Oh! Umm, okay…wait when did she tell you?”

“Last night, why?”

“She called you?”

“No, I came over. Guess we both had the same idea.” Jennie’s words came from right behind you as she rested her chin on your shoulder and snaked her arms around your waist. Jungkook’s expression turned sour at the site of his ex-fiancé hugging his girlfriend in matching oversized t-shirts.

You sniffed the flowers and gave him another shy smile. “These are really beautiful, seriously thank you. But um…you didn’t come here thinking we’d be back together just because the wedding is off, did you?” Jungkook’s mouth opened and closed in confusion. It was clear that was exactly what he thought. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly disappointed about the news, but what happens when your parents arrange the next marriage for you. And the next? Being your mistress isn’t exactly end goal for me, and frankly, you deserve better too, Jungkook. We all do.” You smiled at him again and backed up to begin closing the door, but he quickly leapt up the rest of the steps and caught the door before it could close. He sighed deeply and held the door wide open, ignoring Jennie’s piercing glare.

“No, I…I know. I just… Let me take you out. We can talk about everything and take things step by step. I at least owe you that much after everything I put you through,” Jungkook paused to tuck a stray curl behind your ear and caress your check with his index finger, leaving a blushing streak in its wake. You looked up into his warm eyes, feeling your iciness melt away. God, he was good, really good. His finger continued on its path down to your chin and tipped your head up, “And if you want nothing to do with me after that then you have my word, I’ll let you go. For good this time.” You felt a dagger piercing through your heart at his words. Although it was no different than what you’ve told him in the past, it felt different coming from him. Having him out of your life may be simpler, but it’d hurt so much, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

You nodded solemnly and offered him a weak smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“Why not today?”

You smiled even bigger at his hopeful doe-eyed stare, but before you could respond, Jennie beat you to the punch. “We’re busy today, Jeon. Lots of stuff to do so if you could hurry and leave that would be great, you’re kind of holding us up.” Jennie’s bitchy attitude towards Jungkook had you rolling your eyes yet stifling a giggle.

You looked back at Jungkook and offered him an apologetic smile, “She’s right actually, we’ve got some stuff to do today but I’ll make sure I’m free tomorrow.”

Jungkook shot your friend a glare before looking back down at you and softening his expression. “Okay, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.” Jungkook debated on going in for a goodbye kiss, but seeing as how Jennie was ready to pounce at any moment, he decided to go for your hand instead. Lifting it to his lips, he placed the softest of kisses on the back of your hand, brushing his lips against the thin soft skin before squeezing your hand then letting you go. If you weren’t blushing before, you definitely were now. You uttered a silent prayer as you watched him walk away, hoping to find the strength you’d need to say goodbye to him a second time if it came to that.

Jennie helped you close the door all too enthusiastically. When you turned your attention back to her, she awaited your elaboration to the days’ plans eagerly.

“Why don’t you get a shower now? I’ll make us some breakfast and then we can run some errands.”

“Errands such as…?

“Such as going to the campus’ admission’s office and then going into town to see who’s hiring. It’s summertime now, there’s bound to be a few places looking for seasonal employees at least. We can also see if there are any places for rent nearby that you can afford. There might be a few vacancies open now that graduation is over,” You spoke absentmindedly as you busied yourself getting all of the ingredients together to make chocolate chip pancakes, “Trust me, Jen, as soon as you get the hard parts out of the way you’ll feel less stressed out.”

Jennie hummed as you spoke, letting you know she was still listening as she got the shower started. Before she got in, she peeked her head into the kitchen again. “You know, I can think of a more immediate way to release my stress, if you catch my drift…” Your hand paused on the whisk immersed in the gooey batter and snapped your head in her direction. She quirked her eyebrow at you, making your face heat up for the second time that morning.

Attempting to dispel the sexual tension in the air, you scoffed, “Between you and Jungkook hitting on me constantly, solitary confinement doesn’t seem like such a bad endeavor.” You stuck your tongue out at Jennie in time to catch her eye roll. She slipped out of her oversized t-shirt and purposely dropped it on the floor for you to see on her way into the bathroom. You gulped at the flash of her naked body before quickly turning back towards your batter that had now turned soupy from whipping it too harshly for too long. You uttered another silent prayer, but this time, it was for your libido not to cost you a precious friendship.

By the end of the day, you had Jennie enrolled in photography classes for the Fall semester at a local community college as well as gotten her face to face meetings with the managers of a few boutiques downtown. You were both confident she’d get a call back or two once they sat down to review her resume later this week. It was overly decorated given all of the opportunities her family had thrown her way, so you were hoping none of them would give her the bullshit “overly qualified” excuse. You also both had time to stop by her apartment and get a few things of hers to bring back to your apartment.

House hunting on the other hand, did not go so well. There were quite a few places available to move into within the month, but Jennie refused to look at any of the ones downtown. She insisted she’d settle on one of the two in your neighborhood, but when she found the listings were for renting a single room in a house full of roommates, she all but ran out of each apartment in disgust.

You two had squabbled on the bus ride home, her insisting she couldn’t possibly share a house with anyone and you insisting she was being a stubborn brat seeing as how she had no issues sharing an apartment with you.

Nonetheless she settled the argument by promising to be more open minded about any other listings you two might see. Satisfied with her promise, you assured her she could stay with you as long as she needed to.

And as you both settled in later that night to watch a movie, you knew it wouldn’t be hard at all to live with Jennie for a while, seeing as how you were both painfully domestic. You both loved staying inside with something good to watch and a bowl of popcorn. You both loved sleeping in and you both shared the same level of cleanliness. She checked all of your perfect roommate boxes as far as you were concerned. Besides, as you looked her way while she scrolled through the Netflix movie recommendations, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for her presence. Despite the rocky turn your relationship had taken, you still missed her like hell, especially now that school was done so the only human contact you were getting was from your boss and your patronizing clients.

When Jennie finally settled on a movie, she ran to her belongings and came back with her nail polish stash. You were so happy for once in your life to have some girl time that it almost brought tears to your eyes. She made fun of you for it, but you couldn’t be bothered, holding out your hands for her to manicure as she scolded you for biting your nails, as always.

The movie was interesting, but you were both so tired from running around all day that you both nodded off on the couch without finishing the film. You awoke at three in the morning to find Jennie drooling on your lap. Nudging her awake, you led her to your room by the hand where you both slept until noon the next day in a warm embrace. But before you could both drift off into unconsciousness, Jennie called your name softly to see if you were still awake.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Mm…yeah?” You hummed sleepily against your pillow.

“I really am sorry… about everything. You’ve always been so good to me, even now after everything that’s happened. I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you, and I’ll move on…I promise.”

You hummed along, partially responding from within your vivid dream, unable to understand what she was saying but only knowing that she was talking.

Your impending date with Jungkook had time moving by quickly, but only because you were so nervous about it. Your day at the suit shop had whizzed by and before you knew it, you were dissecting outfits in front of your mirror while Jennie gave either a hum of approval or groan of distaste. Your satin dress with lace detailing paired with a t-shirt underneath and knee-high boots had gotten the best reaction of all, a combination of eyebrows shooting up along with a high-pitched noise, so you decided to go with that one.

Although Jungkook had stressed you were meeting up to talk, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were going on your first date all over again. As you gingerly applied mascara from your old and dried out tube of product, you wondered if this was how mistresses felt once their boyfriends divorced their wives and took them out in public for the first time. Then you shook your head, knowing you shouldn’t be so dramatic. This thing with Jungkook was supposed to be fun and carefree after all, void of any labels and pressure. Somehow it had turned into everything but that.

“Honestly Jen, I’m surprised I haven’t heard any rude remarks or objections on your behalf. I was expecting at least a why are you wasting your time comment of some sort.” You thought your impression of her would at least earn a giggle, but she continued flipping through her June issue of Vogue as if she hadn’t heard you.

“I almost said something of the sort, but I meant what I said last night. So, I’m holding my tongue on the matter. Aren’t you proud of me?”

You had to take a moment to figure out what she was talking about. You recalled her faint words spoken softly in the darkness: I’ll move on, I promise. It dawned on you for the first time what she meant. You looked into your bedroom to see her sprawled out on her stomach, nonchalantly swinging her feet as she flipped through pages of glossy fashion spreads. You sighed and focused back on your now chunky eyelashes, cursing yourself for not buying any new makeup lately. You decided not to dwell too much on her words. Knowing Jennie, she’d just try to scheme her way into your favor some other way.

You put it all behind you as you read Jungkook’s text from your lit phone screen.

8:06 pm – Come out

You smiled and gave yourself one last look in the mirror, “Okay, I’m leaving now Jen. I’ll see you in an hour or two!”

You heard Jennie scoff as you opened the front door. “Knowing you two, I won’t wait up!” You rolled your eyes and closed the door behind you.

You noticed Jungkook immediately as he stood with his back towards you. He was wearing a striped henley tucked into tight black jeans. When he turned around, his eyes swept over your figure, eliciting a whistle from his puckered lips.

You smiled bashfully and rotated so he could get a full view. “Like what you see?” You curtsied goofily, something you always used to do whenever he’d make a big deal about your outfits.

Jungkook approached you and slid a hand around your waist while the other pulled on a loose curl. “Always.” He hummed and buried his nose in your hair, taking his time to revel in the scent of your hair care products he always loved so much.

You blushed but didn’t recoil from his touch. If anything, pulling back from his affections would be a learned behavior, since things like this had become second nature between you two. You looked up into his eyes, placing your hands on his pecks and letting your eyes trail south towards his mouth. Normally you’d kiss him by now, but you reminded yourself that you had to be all business tonight, so you cleared your throat instead and gently pushed him away.

“So, where to?”

“Well, I was going to take you to a nice restaurant, but I figured we’d go old school if this is potentially our last date.” He looked back at you and extended his hand. You took it hesitantly but walked side by side for a while, wondering where you were going. Soon, your university’s baseball stadium came into view and you smiled up at him.

“Are we��?”

“Yep. I know a way to get in when everything’s locked up. Though, we can still go somewhere else, since you’re wearing that.” Jungkook pulled on the spaghetti strap of your dress until it snapped against your shoulder”

“You know, if you’re nervous to play against me you don’t have to make excuses.”

This time it was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes. He chuckled and pulled on your hand until your body collided with his side. He took hold of you and squeezed tightly, whispering closely into your ear since he knew how ticklish it made you.

“What’s that now? Who’s nervous?” You laughed and squealed, trying to squirm your way out of his iron grasp. You two had reached the back entrance by now, and with a swift kick to the lock, the gate swung open. You stared at him in awe, wondering how he learned to do that.

Jungkook led you past the dugout and into the field. The blades of grass were emerald green with thin sections illuminated by the purple sunset as chunks disrupted the pretty sand and chalk outlines of the baseball diamond, no doubt evidence of the school’s willingness to save a penny wherever they could.

Jungkook walked up to the field and picked up a stray ball left on the pitcher’s mound. He took turns throwing it up and catching it before turning to you and lobbing it in your direction. You caught it then feigned a fast throw at the boy which had him wincing out of the way with his trained reflexes. When he realized you hadn’t thrown the ball at all, he shot you one of his scary looks that only meant one thing, you were dead meat.

You dropped the ball and giggled as you began hauling ass towards the bleachers. You picked up your dress so you could better hop the benches, but it was no use. Jungkook had quickly caught up to you taking two bleachers at a time and caught your wrist just as you made it to the middle of the stands. You squealed as he sat down and whirled you around by the hand, pulling you onto his lap with your back facing him.

“You think that’s funny?” Jungkook kept up his angry façade which only spurred you on further.

“Yeah, actually, I do!” Jungkook growled and took hold of both of your wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned at the small of your back. You tried to wriggle free, but it was no use. Still, you weren’t willing to relinquish control so easily, even while being in the most compromising position.

Jungkook tsked, disapproval heavy in his tone as he surveyed your backside. “Now, what am I going to do with you?”

“You’re going to let me go.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I said so?”

Jungkook tsked again as his other hand found your inner thigh. It slid up into your dress at a decrepit rate. “Not good enough.” You felt a tingle at his soft touch, a shiver wracking your body. It’d been so long since you two had been together that your body was actively craving his attention, willing to cave in at the slightest sign of arousal no matter how hard your mind objected. Your legs instinctively closed in on his hand to stop him from moving further. He stilled his hand on your mid-thigh then looked up towards you.

“Jungkook…we’re here to talk, remember?”

“I know, but do you know that? Given by how your thighs are rubbing my hand raw, I’d say we’re both feeling the same things right now.”

You blushed and halted your legs from moving, not realizing what you had been doing. Fuck. He was right. You were turned on as hell right now, and you knew he was too. If things were different, like they were before, you’d both be ripping each other’s clothes off by now. You gulped and looked up behind you. Jungkook’s dark gaze remained on your face, but you were able to make out the growing bulge in your peripheral that had your mouth watering already. Your mind raced to make a decision before the electrified moment between you two could slip between your fingers. Your breath grew shallow as your gazes continued to bore into each other, each of you remembering the fine details of your faces in vivid detail. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You faced forward and parted your thighs slightly to allow his hand to travel further up, biting your lip in anticipation. When his hand didn’t budge, you looked back at him, noticing the torn look that adorned his angelic features. After a moment, he let go of you completely so that you could sit up and off his lap. You reluctantly did so, giving him a questioning look. Jungkook slouched as he placed his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and staring out at the vast empty field.

“I never want you to regret being with me, not even a little. You’re on the fence about me, so hooking up is probably not a good idea,” Jungkook paused then looked over at you before continuing, his expression somber, “I also told you I loved you and you haven’t really responded, so I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything with me out of pity.” Jungkook shot you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’ll shut up now so you can have the floor to talk.”

You stared at Jungkook in awe. It wasn’t unlike him to be so gentlemanly with you, but you couldn’t find it in you to respond. You hadn’t even thought about his confession to you after discovering Jennie in your apartment two nights prior. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world not bothering to consider Jungkook’s feelings amidst all of this craziness. An unexpected sob threatened to make its way to the surface, so you turned away from him, trying to compose yourself. You couldn’t believe your eyes had the nerve to betray you at such a cruel moment, but the weight of everything was hitting you hard now. Between Jungkook calling this your last date, Jennie vowing to get over you, you finding out you’re the reason their engagement is broken and to top it off, the boy you had been pining over telling you he’s in love with you, you just couldn’t help the wave of emotions flowing through you.

“I—I’m so sorry, Jungkook, that I—” Your voice cracked and Jungkook immediately wrapped his arm around you, bringing you into his chest so you could let your tears flow privately. Once the initial sob left you, it was easy to quickly wipe away your silent tears and get it together, though you weren’t in a hurry to move away. Jungkook began tracing circles into your curly head of hair which soothed you entirely. He shushed you and cooed, assuring you that you didn’t have to apologize for not returning his feelings.

“No, that’s not it. I’m sorry that you’ve been waiting for me to respond appropriately. There’s just so much going on. But, fuck Jungkook, I really do miss you,” you sniffled and sat back up to face him, “I already forgave Jennie for everything, so there’s no reason I shouldn’t forgive you too. And if I’m being completely honest, you’re right. I told you I wanted to keep things casual, but I just didn’t want to admit that I was already catching feelings for you. So…when I found out about the engagement it really tore me up. But still,” You punched Jungkook in the arm and he keeled over dramatically while rubbing the spot of your assault, “you should’ve just been honest with me from the start. I wouldn’t have let myself get in so deep with you.” You sighed and shook your head.

Jungkook sat back up, smiling down at his lap. “It’s funny to me that you think you’re so in control. I do admit that complete transparency is always the best way to go, but we were already falling for each other since day one. There’s no stopping this gravy boat, baby.”

You burst into a fit of giggles. “Gravy boat? I can’t stand you.” You both chuckled, settling backwards into the bleachers to watch the last of the sun’s rays die out in the cloudless indigo sky.

“I really am sorry though, about everything.”

“I know.”

“And I’m sorry that I tried to coerce you into being my mistress. I just really didn’t want to lose you, but you’re right, we both deserve better than a not-so-secret affair.” You smiled, nodding as he spoke. You felt a weight lifted off of your shoulders now that you two were on the same page again. Still, you wondered what awaited you two after this. Would you both go your separate ways amicably; would you try and salvage your relationship? It was now pretty clear to the both of you that you had strong feelings for each other the likes of which surpassed anything casual, but was it really possible to turn back the clock and be together?

Once the sky was completely void of warm tones, you both turned to each other, unsure of what to say. You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but it wasn’t long before your lips were pressed up against each other. It was a short kiss to test the waters. When you parted and looked into each other’s eyes, silently confirming the spark you both still felt, you draped your arms around his neck and went in for another, more passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away. Jungkook was taken aback at the eagerness that clung at the edge of your unrelenting lips on his. His hands reached out and took hold of your waist as you climbed onto his lap without separating your lips. Hesitantly, he pulled away from you and looked up in bewilderment.

You sat back on his lap and looked at him in confusion for the second time.

“Y/N… are you sure this is okay? I mean…what does this mean? For us?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t gotten that far. All I know,” You grinded down on his bulge as you replied, staring at his lips hungrily while you did so, “Is that we both have strong feelings for each other, yet we can’t exactly be together. So essentially, not much has changed from before.” You smiled at him wickedly while he struggled to maintain his composure. His knuckles turned white as he gripped your hips in place. You could see a prominent vain popping out of his neck as he sat back, so you leaned in and began sucking on it. A slew of curses escaped the boy’s mouth, his hips involuntarily bucking into your clothed mound as he fought himself for control.

“So, what? We just go back to being friends with benefits?” You hummed in agreement, nipping the skin on the crook of his neck then laving at it with your wet tongue. He hissed and let out a groan which had your underwear flooding with arousal. His hands snaked into your hair and tugged roughly on the root of your strands, effectively yanking your head back and exposing your neck for his mouth to assault in turn. He talked in between kisses, trailing them hungrily down your neck as you broke out in goosebumps. “But we both know that we want more. Or else my almost getting married wouldn’t have been so painful for us.” Jungkook’s lips dragged on the surface of your flesh as he bit down on the exposed part of your shoulder. You whimpered and circled your hips onto his bulge once more.

“But your parents would never let us be together, especially not after everything that’s happened.” You closed your eyes and inhaled sharply as Jungkook’s hand left your waist in favor of flicking your hardened nipples that were now poking through the thin fabric of your clothing. You were both thankful in that moment that you decided to show up sans bra. “And until the day you decide it’s worth pissing them off just to be with me, I’m afraid this is the extent of what we have.” You grinded on his covered cock extra sweetly, drawing out another string of curses from the fucked-out boy.

“Fuck, Y/N, what are you doing to me?” He whined and threw his head back with his eyes crinkled shut in pure torture as his hands returned to your waist, but this time, he was helping them along in their relentless assault against his rock-hard member. When his head snapped back up, his irises were completely blown out. He took hold of your cheeks as his lips returned to yours ravenously. He led the kiss tongue first, and you opened your mouth in submission, letting him have his way with you. Every inch of you begged to have his touch set you ablaze as it had time and time again. Your hands clutched at his chest, bunching up the fabric of his shirt as your legs trembled from the stimulation of his jeans rubbing furiously on your thinly veiled sex.

Jungkook bit down on your bottom lip and dragged it out slowly, his hold on you still strong. Your grunts intermingled and disturbed the cool quiet night as you both lost yourselves in the rhythm of your hips grinding against each other.

When you licked a thick sloppy stripe up the side of his neck, Jungkook cursed one last time before beginning to desperately fumble with his belt buckle. You smiled down towards his crotch in anticipation, hiking your dress up to better spread your legs for him. Once he managed to free his member through the hole in his boxer briefs, you lifted yourself and hovered over his dick, pulling the thin fabric of your lacy underwear to the side to give him entry. Just as the tip of his penis was pushed up against your sopping wet entrance, you pulled your dress down around you to dissimulate as you sank slowly down onto him. You both let out rather loud moans, despite being in a very public setting. The only resistance his dick met was from how tightly wound your core had become as of late, despite being completely flooded for him. It was difficult to maintain your cool, since you both had been craving each other for so long.

You sat on his lap for a spell, enjoying the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you. When you put your focus back to Jungkook, you noticed how strands of his hair were now sticking to his forehead with the dew that was growing on the surface of his skin. His breathing was shallow, his gaze focused on the dip in your dress that concealed your sinful activities. You looked around for the first time and grew pleased to find that there wasn’t a single person or car out and about, and even if there was, you two weren’t easily seen given the positioning of the bleachers facing the field and not the street. Still, you loved the thrill of the danger of being caught in public with Jungkook. Your veins felt alight with adrenaline pumping through them.

Slowly and sensually, you began rocking your hips back and forth in the perfect rhythm that wouldn’t look too suspicious to any onlookers you may not have noticed. It was also the perfect rhythm to drive Jungkook absolutely wild. He bit his lip and threw his head back as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His hands returned to your waist once more to halt your movements altogether.

“Fuck, I’m gonna bust if you keep going like that. Give me a minute.” You both chuckled breathlessly and resumed making out. But as your tongues began wickedly swirling around in between your mouths, Jungkook quickly grew hungry for more and began fucking up into you suddenly. His hands unabashedly palmed and kneaded your ass roughly under the fabric of your dress. Your kiss stifled your sharp moans as each thrust hit your g-spot perfectly, much to your surprise. Your legs instantly began trembling, but Jungkook was not willing to go easy on you. He held the back of your head to keep your moans muffed as you kissed while his other hand that laid on your bottom roughly bobbed you up and down his drenched shaft. You placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling your walls quickly tightening and releasing in succession as your orgasm threatened to hit.

Jungkook parted from your lips only to look up at you as your face contorted in pleasure. He was deliciously vocal whenever you weren’t kissing which made you want to cum for him that much quicker. Yet as his own moaning and groaning grew in frequency while you chased your high determinedly, he stopped you from moving yet again with a strong grip on your waste.

“Jungkook—” You leaned forward and whimpered into the crook of his neck as your core continued to spasm. He chuckled with a dark timbre, bringing his hands to your thighs and rubbing them softly.

“I want to enjoy this for a bit longer, can’t let you cum just yet.” Feeling merciful, he loosened his grip on your waist, allowing you to rock back and forth on his cock to bring stimulation back to your needy cunt. You resumed your moaning without siting back up, knowing full well what it does to Jungkook to hear you moan directly into his ear. The boy bit his bottom lip aggressively, losing himself in the sensations as he began bucking up into you again while closing his eyes and focusing on the sweet sounds entering his ear lobe.

“Yes, Jungkook…just like that.” You stuttered each time the tip of his head hit that sweet spot inside of you that made you see stars over and over again and made his hands grope your ass cheeks every time your voice became high-pitched. Jungkook began cursing again as your walls squeezed the life out of the head of his shaft. He involuntarily began cumming inside of you despite his best efforts. He panted, speeding up his assault on your g-spot while remaining at full mass to hear you moan again and again in the way that drove him absolutely mad.

“Yes, Jungkook, fuck, fuck!” You panted as a flood of release left your body and with it went all of the tension from the last few months. You felt his cum coating your walls as ribbons continued spurting out of him from over stimulation. Looking up at him in gratitude, you placed a sloppy tired kiss on his opened mouth then rested your head o his chest while you both caught your breaths. He held you close to him, rubbing your back soothingly while you listened to his erratic heartbeat slow down. After a minute, you lifted yourself to adjust your underwear and give him room to zip his pants back up.

“Fuck Y/N…” He buckled his belt thoughtfully. Even though you could easily choose to believe he was congratulating you on being the seductress he felt you were, you knew deep down he was referring to your convoluted relationship status. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and waited for his attention to be back on you again.

“I appreciate you wearing your heart on your sleeve for me. We might not have everything figured out just yet, but the last thing I want to do is hurt you or lose you completely. That’s a good start for us, right? Maybe we can figure this out as we go, as long as we promise not to hurt each other anymore.”

Jungkook smiled and nodded in agreement though he didn’t seem overjoyed. Pecking your lips and helping you up to your feet, Jungkook was pensive the entire way home as you both walked hand in hand with you supplying most of the conversation. When you reached your doorstep, neither of you wanted to be the one to let go first.

After your third kiss goodbye, Jungkook seemed tortured.

“What’s wrong?” You slid your arms from around him and backed up to get a better look at his face. The boy stuck his hands in his pockets and shut his eyes tightly with regret before deciding to just come out with what he was thinking.

“Can I come inside? To hang out with you…and Jennie?”

[anotherhargrovebitch]

i’m not your baby anymore : b.h

part three of don’t call him baby mini series! thanks for all the love and support - i hope this does justice (2.2k) 

oh and shout out to @belledawnidk who asked to be tagged!

o n e //  t w o //  t h r e e 

* stranger things writing *

bold/italics - past events 

“Come to think of it, there’s a good pool at er, Motel Six. It’s very quiet, very private.” Billy focuses on Karen’s lips, watching as nerves rise in her expression as she darts her eyes from his growing smirk. “Shall we say tonight, eight o clock?” He chews his gum, meeting her doe eyes. 

Karen shifts her weight from one foot to the other, fiddling with her towel as she averts her gaze. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” She states calmly, ignoring her heart rate increasing as Billy raises an eyebrow, his face still in close proximity to hers. 

“Can’t have fun?” Billy chuckles, and the two continue to flirt ignoring everyone else around them. 

As Karen Wheeler walks away, Billy can feel that familiar pit in his stomach returning, knowing he’s got one more thing to do before he can put everything aside for the night.

*

Taking a deep breath, Billy pulled up down the street. It was a spot he had gotten used to, even if your neighbours opened their curtains and stared at him. Sometimes he’d have the courage to wave and force a smile, but other times he ignored them in the hope they’d allow him some privacy. 

This was the last chance he told himself. One more time of giving himself the opportunity to talk to you, rather than watch you from a safe distance.

“Come on, dick.” Billy mutters under his breath as he lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply before exhaling, filling the car with smoke. 

It was becoming harder to ignore you as Summer was progressing. He felt like he could no longer avoid you like he once did in the corridors of the school. Billy saw you everywhere, small details or things you had mentioned. Every time it happens, Max finds out. 

Seeing Billy so lovesick isn’t something Max ever anticipated witnessing. She knew Billy as a bit of a dick to girls, a womaniser or something slightly perverted. But when you came along, everything seemingly changed for the better and now, now everything has come to a halt in his life. 

“You know, she asks about you sometimes,” Max rests against Billy’s door, keeping her eyes trained to the pieces of ash buried in his carpet. 

She knew she was edging close to dangerous waters, unsure whether to take the leap or let the currents rise. 

Billy shuffles, taking his fingers away from the locket he still wears. “She does?” He questions, forcing himself to sit upright as he faces Max. Biting his lower lip, he tries to stop his heartbeat racing inside of his chest. “What, what does she ask?” He stumbles over his words, something Max smiles at. 

“She, she asks if you’re doing alright. Like, with the lifeguard job and if you’re seeing anyone.” Max says quietly, listening to Billy huff as his whole demeanour changes from something soft to more aggressive.

Clenching his bedding tightly, Billy refuses to meet Max’s eyes. “Dumb bitch.” He mutters forcefully as he rises to his feet, looking down as Max’s face is filled with fear. “Move, Maxine.” He spits and she complies, rising to her feet and leaving the room. 

“Billy, don’t do something you’ll regret!” She yells after him as he grabs his keys and jacket, slamming the front door behind him. “Shit.” She whispers as she runs down the stairs and opens the door, only to see Billy already speeding off down the street with his music blaring. 

He shouldn’t be angry at you, but he can’t help it. 

You got to move on, you had the chance to restart but he couldn’t. Billy didn’t want to. Yet, despite it being over a year, you still ask about him? 

Slamming his car door, Billy throws his cigarette butt to the ground as he grinds on it with his boot. He locks the door, taking one last look at his reflection in the side mirror. 

Licking his lips, Billy runs his fingers through his curls before shrugging his jacket and walking down the path he could follow in his sleep. He takes a look up to see only your bedroom light illuminated inside of the house, and no sign of Harrington’s car. 

“Now or never.” Billy tells himself as he nears your house, this having been the closest to you he’s been in months. 

Looking down at his feet, Billy stands on the welcome mat. It’s Thursday evening, and some things never change about you or your family. He can still hear the wind charm blowing, the sweet notes it produces from the side of the porch whilst your dog barks at the sound of Billy’s movements. 

He raises his fist, forcing himself to knock as he turns around, wondering if it’s too late to make a run for it. 

“I’m coming!” You cheerfully yell from the other side of the door, oblivious to whom you’re about to be faced with. 

Billy tenses as he listens to the locks turning, all three being unbolted as you open it with a bright smile, only to have it falter as Billy stands in front of you. “Hi.” He manages to breathe out, his mind clouding over as you hide most of yourself behind the door, barely looking him in the eye. 

“Billy, what’re you doing here?” You question coldly as Billy blinks rapidly, hearing his name being muttered in sorrow as opposed to joy.

“I was just passing,” He looks back over his shoulder, feeling all of your neighbour's eyes watching him closely.

In his head, he imagines they’ve all heard the stories about him, that your Mom would’ve gossiped about how he broke your heart by cheating. He didn’t have your Mom down as a bad person, but she definitely would be the sort to twist facts like your breakup. 

You raise an eyebrow to him, your smile remaining dormant from his view. “You were just passing through this part of town, where nothing is?” You respond, crossing your arms as you open the door a slither more. “What’re you really doing here, Billy?” You reiterate your former question, knowing he can’t avoid the truth forever. 

Billy exhales loudly, burying his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I wanted to talk to you, Y/n.” He admits, the pet name so close to rolling from his tongue but he bites it back. “I know it’s been a long time, but can we just talk about some things?” He asks you calmly, hiding his pent up anger as he grips the cigarette box in his left pocket. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you focus on the time. You know there’s enough time for you to both talk, for you to scream and cry and him to leave before Steve comes. But you want to be selfish and say no. 

“Come in, Billy.” You lower your head as you step back, pulling the door toward you as he walks in. 

His eyes roam around, noticing small changes decorating the hallway. 

“You changed it up in here.” He comments, looking back as you nod softly before walking into the living room.

Billy remains on his feet as you take a seat in the armchair, watching as he seems unsure of himself for the first time. “You can sit down, Billy.” You tell him, and as soon as you state that he obliges. “So, what’d you wanna tell me then?” You get straight to the point, not wanting to dance around the topic. 

Shuffling in the seat, Billy sits on the edge of the three-seater sofa. He focuses on his shaking knee, unaware of you watching intently at the small details that have changed about him.

Your eyes roam over his face, picking up the freckles that always reappear in the summertime. How that slit in his eyebrow as scarred from one of Neil’s punches. There are fewer cuts and bruises for once, but you know that they must be concealed beneath the layers of his clothing. 

“I wanted to apologise to you, Y/n.” He starts, still unable to look you directly in the eyes. “As I never did properly, I mean, I tried but understandably, you didn’t wanna talk.” He states, glancing up to see you nod in response. “And, and Max says you ask about me sometimes?” 

Billy looks over, seeing your hand grip the arm of the chair as he mentions his stepsister. “I, I just wanted to know if you’re doing okay.” You shrug your shoulder, playing it down from what it really is. “Just, I see you around Hawkins but I never know if you’re putting up a facade.” You comment, and Billy swallows the yell in his throat. 

“That all you ask her?” He toys with you, dangling it in front of your face. 

A loud huff leaves your lips as you mirror his body language. “What’re you asking me, Billy?” The words leave your lips with venom. You never liked the games he played, especially when it came to your emotions. 

“Do you still care about me? Ask about if I’m seeing anyone?” His voice rises as you rub your temples. “Seriously, Y/n?” He scoffs as he stands up, pacing around the room. “After all this time, you still care about me? After all I did, I’ve sulked over losing you, only to see you all over Harrington of all people! And yet, you still have the audacity to ask about me!” He yells, unaware of you standing in front of him with glossy eyes. 

“No, Billy.” You state coldly, trying to keep yourself composed. “I was a mess when you broke my heart. Steve, Steve is my best friend. He’ll always be my best friend, even if we’re dating- which is none of your business anymore by the way. You, you lost the privilege to be apart of my life when you slept with another girl.” You spit at him, feeling those old wounds being reopened. 

“So why ask about me then?” He retorts, moving closer toward you. 

“I ask because I still care, Billy!” You yell. “I’ll always care about you deep down, no matter how much shit you do or how much you hurt me. I’ll always fucking care you piece of shit.” Your yells mix with tears as you hit his chest repeatedly, only for him to take a hold of your wrists. 

“Hey,” His voice lowers, close to whispering as you cry. “don’t.” He says, only for you to look up at him as tears stream down your cheeks. 

“You ruined me, Billy.” You whisper, forcing your wrists from his grip as you take a step back. “And yet, I still care.” You laugh to yourself as you wipe your eyes. “How that works I do not know.” 

“Y/n,” He mutters your name, reaching out as you collapse down to the ground. “I’m so sorry, for everything.” His voice is soft, the delicate tone you once heard in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep. He would’ve curled up into you, his lips against your ear as he’d whisper sweet nothings. 

“You should be.” You look up, focusing on those blue eyes you once got lost in. 

“Do, do you still love me?” His eyes search yours, desperation oozing from his lips as you shuffle away from him. 

“Billy, don’t.” You ask him quietly, shaking your head. 

But Billy can’t help it. He moves closer as your back hits the armchair. “Do you love him like you love me?” His eyes remain fixated on yours as the tears continue to glide down your cheeks as you blink, knowing the answer will break his heart.

“I, I’ll always love you, Billy.” You lift your hand, resting it against his cheek.

Naturally, Billy leans into your soft touch, missing your delicate hand against his rough skin. 

“But,” You continue, breaking Billy from his dream, bursting the bubble of what he hoped to be the end of that sentence. “you were and always will be my first love. I, I’ve moved on.” You explain quietly, watching as he pulls away from you, your hand dropping from his face. “You need to move on, Billy. You, you’ll always have a place in my heart, but I’m still healing.” Your hand rests over your chest, and Billy simply nods. 

“I, I should go.” He mutters as he stands up, looking at you briefly. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, knowing you understand that he truly means it. “I, I’ll leave you to it.” He heads toward the front door, knowing you won’t follow him. 

Deep down, you wish you could. That part of you will always wonder what would happen if you ran after him. 

Instead, you listen as the door closes quietly, leaving you in solitude as you cry into your chest over the boy who broke your heart, and whose heart you broke in return. 

Billy sits in his car, glancing down to see the time as he wipes his face. It is seven O’clock. He pulls away, knowing the exact route to Motel Six from your house, having spent many nights there with you but tonight and like every night from now on, he won’t spend it with you. 

Deep down, Billy knows he’ll willingly spend it with anyone just in hope that the hole in his chest might heal up someday. That the heart you broke will heal, and he’ll have another chance at finding someone else.

[punkpoemprose]

December 6th- Fuck 2020

Universe: Modern AU Rating: M (Mature, a little explicit, this is porn without plot for the most part) Length: 4383 Words A/N: The title says it all. This fic is about Kristoff and Anna having sex on New Years Eve. TW: Mentions of COVID-19, quarantine, and generally the shittyness of this year. This is the last of my decades AUs. Hopefully someday someone will write something more flattering for the 2020′s.

Anna closed her laptop and collapsed back onto the couch. She was exhausted mentally and emotionally, but her body wasn’t tired enough to let her sleep. It had been what she’d been suffering with all year, or at least since March when the world had gone from its usual level of chaos to being utter and total bedlam. She still remembered the day she’d learned that her kids wouldn’t be coming back to the classroom, and the only slightly more terrifying day where she learned that they would, in fact be coming back.

Her head was still awash with words she’d never thought she’d need to say to a room full of five-year-olds. We have to keep our masks on. Remember, six feet apart guys, that’s like two big dogs in a line. No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you a hug. She’d had to separate desks, and clean and not wipe away little tears like she normally would when a child was having a bad day.

The kids, she thought, had held up better than she had. They’d listened as well as they could, they’d followed the rules as much as they were able, and they were kind about the policies in a way that even grown adults were not. But even with all the work they’d done, even with all the kids doing their best, the second wave had hit, and now they wouldn’t be returning to school until after the middle of January, and then when it finally came about, it would be online. There was talk of vaccines in the news, and while it gave her some small spark of hope, all the changes have meant turning her holiday break into lots of online classroom prep.

It still wasn’t the worst though, she’d rather be tired than sick, and she couldn’t help but relax a bit and listen to the shower running in the next room over.

Kristoff had been given the afternoon shift for New Year’s Eve, and as per their new normal, he’d stripped down at the door after returning to their apartment, tossed all his things into the wash, and was currently showering. In the beginning, before they’d known just how bad things were, before PPE was supplied to every EMT in the county, he’d caught it.

Anna had remembered the pain of having to see him so ill, watching him suffer through what was determined to be a “mild” case of the virus while he was sequestered to their bedroom and she spent the week sleeping on the couch and barely seeing him at all except to occasionally bring him something to eat when he’d felt particularly weak. There was something particularly terrifying in watching the strongest person Anna knew, her rock, her one and only, barely able to take care of himself. He’d insisted the whole time, vehemently, that she leave to stay with her sister on the other side of town, be she’d been unable to bring herself to do it. She couldn’t and wouldn’t leave him alone when he was so sick she wasn’t sure if he’d make it through.

But, of course, he had. His voice had been strange and unlike him for weeks after he was cleared, and Anna had spent many nights in a cold sweat thinking about just how close he’d been to being in much worse shape. They’d started their procedure then, come in the door, take off your clothes, wash anything that went into work with you, and then shower. She’d done it too, but to less of an extreme because while she’d been around kids who had potentially been sick, he spent every day with Sven facing the positively ill together and trying their best to keep them well enough to get to the hospital.

The mental strain it was putting on them, Anna having to worry everyday about him getting sick again, or one of her students or even herself catching it was a lot. But Kristoff, kind and wonderful man that he was, kept checking in at the hospital to learn whether the transports he and Sven had brought in had made it. She saw the darkness in his eye, behind his attempts at levity, on the days where they lost someone.

The water shut off, and Anna let herself imagine him behind the door, stepping out of the shower, putting his towel on, walking over to the mirror to shave and comb his wet hair. He’d started keeping it shorter than usual as a precaution, and while he always looked handsome, Anna missed the days where she’d been able to put short braids into his hair and then comb them out with her fingers. She missed the days where he’d come home, flop onto the couch and that would be the end of things until one of them made dinner.

“Hey,” he said, as she heard the bathroom door open and shut, “Are you asleep or?”

She opened her eyes and tipped her head, looking at him from across the room. He was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, nothing fancy because of course, despite it being New Year’s Eve, they weren’t going out anywhere. She was dressed similarly, but overtop her plain shirt, she’d thrown on her nicest cardigan, creating the illusion for the videos she’d pre-recorded, that she wasn’t on her couch in her pajamas, but instead was dressed in full teacher gear and was to be listen to closely.

“I don’t think I can do an early bedtime tonight,” she said, “Or even a nap. I have to be awake to see this year end.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t so much the sort of laugh he did when he thought she was being funny. It was much more of a chuckle, as if he were going to follow it with an expression of agreement. They both were rather done with the year, just like everyone else they knew. No one wanted to be living through a pandemic.

“Just imagine,” he said, “Maybe next year we’ll actually be able to go on a date or something.”

“Or,” Anna replied sadly, “Actually be able to reschedule our wedding.”

They’d planned a June wedding the year before. It was going to be a small affair. Just his family, Elsa, and some friends from work. They were going to have it at a ski-lodge in the mountains that also doubled as a summertime spa and nature retreat so that it would be like a vacation for everyone who attended. She could still imagine the way that they’d wanted to decorate the place, all sunflowers and mason jars and white ribbons. She had bought a dress and everything, and it was still stored in her sister’s bedroom closet.

They’d pushed it to August, but had given up on it past that, knowing as soon as September hit and she returned to school with in person students, that nothing would be changing anytime soon. Even her hope for the next year was a tentative thing, like a butterfly with a broken wing trying its damnedest to fly.

“Fuck 2020,” she said quietly, noticing the way he frowned at the mention of their cancelled wedding. He’d been looking forward to it as well, and she knew that this year had been just as upsetting for him as it had been for her. She tried not to swear very often, particularly because she was worried about being able to censor herself around the kids, but ultimately, the year deserved a middle finger and some very strong language.

He crossed the space and took her laptop from where it rested on her stomach, placing it carefully on the coffee table before he scooped her too, up and off the couch. He never had much trouble lifting her, but each time he did so unexpectedly, she was half afraid of falling. She flailed for a half a second in his arms, gasping at the change in height as it occurred.

“I’d like that,” he said with a grin, “The wedding. I know it’s just a formality, and that we’ve agreed not to do it at a courthouse or anything, but I’m so ready to call you Mrs. Bjorgman.”

“And have my students confused?” she teased, “Maybe you should be Mr. Arendelle.”

He laughed at that, but the shrugged and started walking in the direction of their bedroom, holding her bridal style as if it were already all over and done with.

“Why are we heading to bed?” she asked, only allowing herself a little hopefulness beyond her confusion. She knew why she’d like to be heading to bed, but maybe, she reasoned, he was just tired and wanted some company for a nap.

“You said, ‘fuck 2020’.”

She could see the cheeky smile on his face as he glanced down at her, still heading toward the bedroom, like a man on a mission.

“It sounded like a good idea to me.”

***

“So,” Anna said from her place below him on their bed, “In this analogy am I 2020 or?”

Kristoff laughed, and she was treated with a kiss on her knuckles as she obediently raised her arms up for him to remove her shirt. His laugh was one of the things that got her through the day, knowing that he could find humor in any situation, that she could make him laugh, was a blessing. It made things feel normal, and it was a joy for them both that they sorely needed.

“No. It’s more like we fuck each other, and we get a little extra enjoyment out of the year ending. Honestly, I didn’t think it through very much, I just wanted you and it seemed like a good excuse.”

That made her laugh, and she nodded appreciatively at the sentiment. She didn’t think that they needed to really contemplate it much as she was just happy with the opportunity to enjoy her fiancé for a little while.

“It’s a good way to pass the time until midnight,” she offered once she was free of her shirt, “I’m sure we’ll manage to keep each other awake.”

Her hands went up his shirt in return, letting her fingers travel over his the soft but muscled planes of his torso until he too removed his shirt, giving her better access to touch him as she leaned up to allow him to undo her bra’s clasps.

“It’s what? Seven?” He asked, tossing her bra in a rapidly growing pile of their clothes, “I can’t promise five hours straight, but I’ll do my best.”

His hands went up her sides, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively at the dips of her waist and across her ribs until they came up to he breasts. He cupped them gently first, and her hands moved to tracing up and down in spine in return as they found a comfortable position where she was somewhat seated in his lap, facing him. He pinched a nipple and she treated him to an appreciative moan and dragged her nails, lightly down his back.

They hadn’t had much time for intimacy as of late. Between what they both experienced at work and the stress of the holidays, even from a socially distanced standpoint, they’d mostly been using their bed for sleeping. It felt good for it to be put to better use.

“Of course, we’ll need to take a break for dinner. Maybe you’ll need a second shower with some company. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

The appreciative almost growl he made as he ducked his head down to her neck went straight through her spine and made her want to peel the rest of their clothes off and get down to business immediately. Shared shower or not, she already knew that she’d need to change her panties. If, of course, he was planning on letting her put any on before the next morning.

He squeezed and kneaded her breasts while his lips kissed down her neck and she allowed herself to surrender to his touch. Everything around her was Kristoff, his hands and mouth on her, the smell of his shampoo all she could smell as she tilted her neck to give him better access and shifted a hand up to his still wet hair. Despite him being fresh from the shower and in the cooler air of their bedroom, he was hot to the touch, exactly what she wanted as her hair stood on end from the temperature and his touch.

He moved lower then, his head ducking down to lave attention on her nipples as one arm wrapped around her back to support her leaning away and the other moved down, down, across her lower stomach and to the place where her waistband still sat.

“Off?” she asked, the word all she could form as she gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth sucking and nipping at her.

“Not yet,” he replied, barely moving his mouth from her as he answered and switched sides, leaving her wet nipple to pebble against the cold.

His fingers slid a bit lower still, under the waistband of her pants, but not into her underwear as he dipped her even lower.

His arm was strong at her back, keeping her aloft and exactly where he wanted her, even as she squirmed and bucked her hips against the hand that was moving closer and closer to her clit. She knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn’t keep her from jumping when his fingers grazed her through the fabric. He knew that she was sensitive, that he needed to work her up to his direct touch, let alone anything more. They’d had their fair share of quickies of course, but when he wanted things to last, when he wanted to see her come again and again, he worked her up first.

Anna moaned, and arched in his arms, not so much from the sensation, but from the promise it offered. He really was going to try to make this last all night long.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I ask myself the same question.”

She gasped as he slowly stroked his fingers up and down her, no doubt feeling how wet she was through her panties but not commenting on it. Instead, using his mouth to once again kiss down her body, moving from the valley between her breasts lower and lower, tipping her back onto the bed as he went.

Not to be outdone, Anna reached up to him as she was leaned back, letting her hands travel down and over his back, reaching for his rear and giving it a squeeze. He laughed against her skin, and she felt rather satisfied by the sound as he picked up the pace on her clit and kissed her navel. Her hands slipped forward then, moving across the waistline of his sweatpants, and dipping her fingers below them as he had.

It was a bit of an awkward angle, but she did her best to wrap her hand around him. It was a challenge, but it was worthwhile to hear his breathing quicken when she managed to slide her hand up and down over his already hard cock through the fabric of his boxers. She recalled the first time they had done this, what felt like many years before, but was just a little over a year and a half ago. She remembered touching him for the first time and being scared that she wouldn’t be able to take him. The thought would have made her laugh now, if it weren’t for the fact that his attention on her clit was making her gasp instead.

When his lips had kissed as low as possible in their current position, he sat up a bit and slipped his hand from her pants. He offered her a questioning look, as he always did, and Anna stroked him again in response, sliding her hand up and down his length and rotating her wrist a bit as she did so, knowing that it was what he liked.

“Off?”

“Off,” she replied, finalizing the unspoken agreement in words before adding, “You too.”

He nodded and she rubbed her thumb against his head before she too extracted her hand, giving him a small taste of what was to come. She fully intended to take him into her mouth if he would let her. It had been too long since she’d seen him fall apart like that, staring down at her with dark eyes and strong muscles trembling under the weight of his climax.

Maybe, she thought, she might even do it while he was laying down, so she could feel him under her and enjoy the building of tension in his body that always came before the release that left him panting and melting beneath her. She loved that he let her give him pleasure. There was so much he did everyday for her, all the care to not get her ill, the many nights he cooked dinner after a long shift, how he always listened to her stresses before offering up his own, and she liked to return his kindnesses in the bedroom.

He pushed himself up and off of her, pulling his pants down with one hand, using the other in a delightful display of his strength to hold himself aloft. He kicked them off a bit creatively, one leg at a time as if he were doing some kind of strange yoga, but never removing his eyes from her as he watched her buck her hips up and slide her own bottoms off.

He tossed them both somewhere to join their pile, and they were left, staring into each other’s eyes wearing nothing but their underwear.

She shivered a bit, both from the intensity if his gaze and the cool air around her. He noticed, his gaze softening as he lowered himself to her a bit and pressed a kiss to her lips. She responded by tipping her head up a bit, deepening the kiss as her arms raised up to wrap around his back and pull him down onto her.

“I’ll have to see if I can warm you up,” he said, their temperature differences more evident as his chest pressed into hers.

He was making a valiant effort, despite her pulling him down, to not crush her under his weight. There had been occasions where he’d allowed his whole weight to press down onto her, and while she didn’t exactly consider him light by any instance of the word, he wasn’t ever going to crush her quite so much as he made an excellent weighted blanket when he wanted to be.

His tone was lascivious though. There was no doubt in Anna’s mind as his hips rocked gently into hers that his plan for warming her up included more of the touching he’d just been doing moments before. When he kissed her again and let his lips trail, once more down her body, lower and lower, she knew that there would be nothing so simple as a blanket in his plans to warm her.

When he reached the waistband of her panties he didn’t stop, instead mouthing at her through the fabric, causing her to call his name and tangle her fingers into his hair. She felt his breath on her, hot, the inhalations and exhalations adding to the sensation as his lips nipped carefully at her clit. He slid down after a few moments, pressing kisses to her labia and center through the fabric, nudging her bud with his nose.

He could be devious with his mouth, a fact that she took immense pleasure in. He could kiss her mouth and pussy with equal skill, and she knew it came from a combination of natural talent, and plenty of practice with her and only her. His mouth could bring her to heights she’d never been able to reach alone, and the anticipation of him doing so had her trembling.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, glancing up at her from between her legs, seeking permission as he always did.

“Yes. Always.”

It was all he needed, flashing her a smile as he hooked his thumb under her waistband and pulled.

She lifted her hips obediently and was rewarded with an appreciative squeeze on her rear as he tugged the fabric off her. When it got to her knees, he leaned back and she set her bottom back onto her bed, watching him whip the fabric off her legs and onto the floor.

She would not be looking for them, she decided ultimately, until laundry day.

He spread her legs a bit more and rearranged them both on the bed until she had two pillows under her rear, elevating her, and he was half kneeling before her.

Once the matter of fabric and positioning was settled, he set upon her like a man starved. Evidently the foreplay had been enough for him, and she already felt it was enough for her, when he kissed her clit again, and then set to running his tongue over her. He went from the bottom of her slit, tasting her and groaning in appreciation, up to her clit, his tongue teasing at her before flattening against her, moving down, and repeating the process.

Her hands, desperate to show him the same appreciation he was showering her with, reached out as far as they could to rub just her fingertips, less artfully, but no less effectively, against the bulge straining against his boxers. His groans only added to the sensation as he tasted her, the rumbling of it tangible as he licked and took her into his mouth. The sound mingled in the air with her own moans, and soon, she stopped being able to tell who was making which sounds.

His tongue darted between her folds and she rocked her hips into his mouth. He rocked just far enough back that she could no longer touch him, and as such, her hands held onto him in other ways, one hand wandering across his shoulders while the other tugged at his hair.

He added his fingers to the business after a short while, taking only a moment away from her to watch her face as he slipped his fingers along her entrance, coating them in her before he, with trained dexterity, slid them inside her and began the search for the place on her inner walls he knew set her closest to the edge.

He got a satisfied look on his face when her moans grew louder, when she pleaded with him and thanked him for the new sensation, and it was a grin that she saw last before his face descended, again, to mouth at her clit with new fervor.

It was only a matter of time before she fell back against the bed, pillows falling from under her rear as she went stiff, then limp, under the force of her orgasm.

She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her.

***

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Anna had been somewhat surprised that they made it to midnight, both of them thoroughly spent with the amount of time and energy they’d put into their private celebration. She wasn’t counting down with the people on the television though, she couldn’t even see them as she knelt before the couch, feeling Kristoff’s tensed legs at either side of her. She couldn’t count anyway, she had her mouth full.

She’d wanted to manage to get him to come right at midnight, thinking about how funny and gratifying it would be to ensure that her fiancé, the man she loved most in the world, started the new year out right. She supposed though, as she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue running up and down his length as she breathed through her nose, that he wouldn’t mind if it was just a minute or so late.

“Anna,” he groaned, his hand on the back of her head, not pushing but encouraging her to maintain her speed, “Baby I think I’m going to…”

She hummed, keeping up her speed, flattening her tongue against him and doing her damnedest to give him the same pleasure he’d given her earlier in the day. They’d done plenty in the hours between, but this was the first time for the day, and now for the new year that she’d pleasured him with her mouth.

She hoped that the sounds she was making were encouraging as his hips rocked almost imperceptibly, his hand that rested on her shoulder tightening as the one in her hair pressed a little more than it had been.

When he came for her, she could feel the shuddering of his muscles, particularly his thighs which she was using for support, even under the fabric of his clothes. They’d only recently finally donned clothes again for the first time since dinner, and she had decidedly not let it stop her, particularly when it was easy enough to shift the fabric down enough to suit her needs.

“Anna,” he repeated, panting as she too came up for air, swallowing him.

She could feel herself flush, and saw the blush mirrored on his cheeks. He was frazzled, and when she leaned up, using his thighs for support, to get a better look at his expression, she was surprised by his dipping down to kiss her lips.

“Happy New Year Anna,” he whispered, hands already moving on her, pulling her closer as he showed her his appreciation.

She couldn’t help but laugh, accepting her New Year’s kiss as he sat before her with his pants still askew. If it was an omen for the year, she was glad for it. She’d rather the year be an amusing one than the way the previous one had been.

“Happy 2021 Kristoff,” she replied, kissing him again and letting herself enjoy the sensation of his touch before reaching down to tug on his waistband, helping him readjust before turning to shut the television off and drag him off to bed.

They’d had a long, but very enjoyable day. The perfect way, she thought, to usher in the New Year.  

[uwua3]

golden boy.

🌸🌷 sakuma sakuya

summary: summer was sakuma sakuya—forever your golden boy

warnings: angst, flings, ocean, summer romance, unrequited/temporary love

author’s note: please help i am going through sakuya brainrot because of a certain someone (you know who you are) who spammed me with lucifer! sakuya !! in order to prevent it, here’s a self indulgent angst one shot about summer fling! sakuya ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ (why is my automatic response to write angst that Hurts My #Feelings,,, okay???)

below are multiple quotes about summer that made me think of golden boy sakuya himself! :D

word count: 1,913

music: animal crossing – shawn wasabi, sophia black

“All in all, it was a never to be forgotten summer — one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going — one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.” — L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams

There’s something about summer—it’s more a feeling than a season, isn’t it?

At least, that’s how you felt about Sakuma Sakuya. Golden boy himself who instantly warmed your skin with a slight touch, the god of sunlight who lived in a world where it was always June. That was who Sakuya was to you: a fleeting, sickly sweetness that left too quickly. Anything was possible during summer, where the days overlapped one another and stretched into infinity. That was your only time with Sakuya.

“How are you, my golden boy?” You murmured lazily upon the balcony, sweat slick against your forehead and it felt like you were in the deep end of a pool. Barely breathing with this humidity, suffocating on an empty promise that only held true in the last few summer months. Regardless of the suddenness from your absoluely perfect nickname for him, you could hear Sakuya’s genuine, light laugh from beside you.

“Couldn’t be better.” Sakuya whispered back, as if he couldn’t dare break the hazy daydream keeping you two together. He only bumped his elbow into yours, it reminded you how little you needed to move to make him yours. You could only imagine how gorgeous he must’ve been with a blush across his sunset–lit face, so you reached your hand out to take his. It was shaking slightly, but Sakuya squeezed back anyways with a light press of a kiss to your knuckles. His lips must’ve tasted of ripe strawberries and juicy watermelon, which you would confirm soon with a smile.

With the smell of celebration in the air, the indescribable setting of idleness meeting hopeless dreams, and a fling only the sun would bear witness too, you were certain of one thing and one thing only. Summer was Sakuma Sakuya—forever your golden boy.

“Summertime is always the best of what might be” — Charles Bowden

Life was beginning again all because your golden boy, and you could slowly forget who you were before this summer. Until, it stayed, reminding you of how soon this would all end like the noisy cicadas. Just like a warning, that summertime could not last forever even with the son of the sun himself.

That evening, the ocean spoke in tongues you couldn’t understand, curling around your bare ankles with the guidance of the full moon. Unprecendented mysteries beneath the waves, nothingness that cost lives to be discovered, and secrets taken to the grave were just beyond your reach. All past your fingertips brushing against the salty water as it retreated into the depths of the unknown. Sand molded around your feet seemed to take you in deeper and deeper, willing you to stay in this summer bliss forever.

But, it was June. A day of hanging by the beachside in perfect weather, a blue sky above with no clouds, and savoring the time you two had together made for memories you’ll never forget. Perhaps it was how that seashell you kept in your hand matched his eyes, or how it felt in the moment to go underwater with him hand in hand, but you sighed softly into another sunset. Summer went too soon, and like a fool, you wished for more time.

Feeling a gentle lingering touch against your shoulder, his hand rested upon your skin, unaware of how you burned guiltily from his summer love. Sakuya sat down as well, taking a second to appreciate the quiet intimacy you both shared. The sun was setting during golden hour, the ocean was painted in a dreamy shade of purple pastels, and more pretty souvenirs of sea glass surrounded you. It was perfect—he was perfect.

“We should head back home.” You slowly said after a while, to which Sakuya hummed something akin to disagreement before resting his head against your shoulder. You subconsciously wrapped your arm around him, delicately toying with the salt–dried strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. Sakuya wanted this feeling to last for the rest of his life: romance bursting alive like the world when it was summer, hot and fiery, everything it was meant to be.

“Stay with me.” Sakuya turned his head to mumble in the space of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your collarbones. You knew his words had a double meaning, that spending the night was just a small part of what Sakuya really desired. Ever the hopeless romantic, Sakuya dreamt of a year–round, committed relationship with his fated soulmate. But, you weren’t his for a lifetime, just this summer.

So you ignored his demand and instead replaced the dwindling newfound freedom of responsibility with a temporary love, standing up and putting your hand out. You both knew what your answer meant deep down inside, and Sakuya should’ve ran away, but he gently took your hand anyways. Walking away from where the waves met the shore, you two headed to your place in the humid summer heat, laughing and smiling like you two weren’t mortals on borrowed time.

When you kissed your golden boy made of sweet nothings, temporary fixes, and momentary love that night, you saw summer and only summer.

“You are so much sunshine in every square inch.” — Walt Whitman

Sakuma Sakuya—to you, perhaps those were the two most beautiful words in the Japanese language. Whenever you said his name, it tasted like sticky, melted ice cream and a wave of happiness embraced you like a sunny afternoon. His existence itself was a simple joy, one you could never have enough of; he came near the definition of perfection in this imperfect world.

It was... easy, being with Sakuya. You liked it—the frequent, meaningful displays of affection that held all the love in the world, the light shimmer of dreaminess that came with his thoughtful, gentle words, the impulsive willingness to do anything and everything for acceptance in return. You knew Sakuya loved this (you) to an unhealthy, unexpected level, that he woke up and jumped out of bed to see you and wished on every dandelion to sleep in your arms. It was the romance of it all, the possibility that your chance encounter was a product of destiny. He often sleepily giggled about soulmates, and when he gave you that innocent look under the stars, you didn’t have the heart to disagree.

Tonight was one of those nights. The sheets messily tangled around your bodies, clothes from this busy morning wrinkled from wearing them all day. His shirt was too big, and his baseball cap was still on your head; it was so mismatched but somehow, it worked out. The puzzle pieces fit despite the oddness of it all, and you liked his intricacies. The comforter was thrown on the floor at this point, the windows were open with a light breeze swaying the translucent white curtains. The moon glowed from up above with the constellations watching your summer romance painfully fizz out like a firecracker.

Sakuya was playing with your fingers, his hands delicately holding yours as he rambled about anything that made his day. You diligently listened, savoring every word that escaped his lips as you laid on your side. July was beautiful on him, even though he was a creation of spring. His half–lidded eyes sparkled despite yawning, and when he looked into yours, he grinned and moved in closer. Sakuya slowly held your hand tighter, curling up in bed to face you. He rested your joined hands between you two, watching and admiring your ethereal shine.

You knew what he wanted to say so desperately, the three words that would change everything. Before Sakuya could start, you pulled him into a tight hug and closed your eyes, mumbling a, “Good night, golden boy”. He ran his fingers through your hair, sighing contently as you two dozed off to greet a new summer dawn.

This was Sakuya’s first ever taste of love, and boy was it sweet. But, for you, this was just another pastime you knew would go too soon.

“Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. But when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: They are shooting stars-a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they’re gone.” — Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

Sakuya was forever curious, innocently naive about anything that slightly piqued his interest. So, when he asked a question on an everchanging summer’s night, you realized it was August.

“What are we?”

You inhaled the nostalgia brimming in the festival atmostphere, the crowds apart of a distant background that couldn’t hide you from the inevitable. Sakuya looked so, so pretty in his newest yukata, the cherry blossom design highlighting his bright hair and eyes underneath the glow of the paper lanterns. But, his face was uncertain as he glanced upon your expression to find some idealistic truth. You didn’t let it show, just cast your gaze against the night sky, waiting for the annual fireworks show upon a grassy picnic blanket.

It was something you could tell Sakuya wanted an answer to for a long, long time. Maybe before the start of summer even, when catching one another’s eye lasted too long, or when you’d always find yourself in his room a little too late. It was a response you wish you could bottle up and throw into the ocean, watch it sail away into the abyss with no remaining evidence of its impact. But, you couldn’t do that. It was nearing the end of summer, and you knew this would be one of the last times you could see Sakuya was more than a friend.

“We’re...” You started before a firework exploded above. The surrounding groups reacted with awe, staring at the vibrant night lights with buzzing excitement. Even Sakuya fell victim to the firework’s spell, his big eyes reflecting the sparks with a starstruck smile. You couldn’t bring yourself to continue, instead swallowing the rejection and sneaking glances at his side profile. He looked so happy, so distracted, you couldn’t remind him summer was over along with the fireworks.

When Sakuya turned his head towards you, a wavering, scared smile graced his lips. He spoke, but the fireworks cut him off. Sakuya’s face was illuminated by neon shades of the rainbow, as festival goers cheered for an encore. You knew he said those three little words that meant everything to him, so boldly and proudly like it would change your relationship with him.

You attempted to blink away the tears, but Sakuya worriedly cupped your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the singular tear that trailed down your face. Before he could ask what was wrong, you placed your hand over his with a sad, sad smile.

“I’ll miss you, golden boy.” You weren’t overshadowed by the fireworks this time, and Sakuya smiled, too, despite the tears. He suddenly understood what you meant, and repeated himself.

“I love you, I’ll always love you beyond summer.”

Summer was Sakuma Sakuya—but, he was no longer your golden boy.

[imaginingsoftly]

A Very Glad Midsommar - Andre Burakovsky

Type: friends to lovers, extremely fluffy

Requested: No

Warnings: none

A/N: I remember Andre saying something about loving Midsommar, and now I can’t get the idea of celebrating it with him out of my head.

Three days into your visit to Sweden, and you didn’t know how you were ever going to leave. The days leading up to today had been incredible as Andre took you on a tour of Malmo and the surrounding areas with the enthusiasm and joy you’d come to love the most about him. The visit had been his birthday present to you, insisting that his favorite summertime baby get to experience the wonder of a Swedish Midsommar. At first, it had been too much to accept; after all, it wasn’t like you two were dating, but he’d insisted it was nothing until you finally gave in. Now that you were here, you were grateful for his insistence. 

The flower crowns were perfect. Alexandra had snuck out that morning to buy the two of you some flowers, insisting that your first Midsommar experience be done right, flower crowns and all. The flowers were beautiful, white spray roses, something yellow, and a beautiful blue she had called love-in-a-mist, a flower you’d decided might just be your new favorite. While you’d struggled to put together your crown Alexandra had done two, one for her and mini one for her daughter Maia. Alexandra winked as you put it on, and then nodded her head at the deck where Andre was sitting with his father and Alexandra’s husband. “Go. Show Andre.” She was smirking as you stood, doing as she asked with a small roll of your eyes. 

Andre looked up when you walked through the door, and you almost missed the flash of longing that went through his eyes. “Y/N, you look,” Andre trailed off as he took in your attire, and there was that flash in his eyes again. “You look perfect.” Robert and Seb burst into laughter behind Andre as you smiled softly at him. 

“Thanks to your sister. I think she’s decided I’m going to be her Midsommar doll today.” Alexandra had really outdone herself, you had to admit that. She’d taken you shopping the day before, when she found out you hadn’t brought anything white with you, and the white linen dress the two of you had picked out matched your tan and your brown curls nicely. Andre clearly liked it, humming his approval as he adjusted the crown on your head. 

“Perfect,” he whispered again as he slipped an arm around your waist, and you almost thought he was going to kiss you until Alexandra came outside with Maia and the moment was gone. Maia started yelling the way that one year olds do when she saw Andre, and he scooped her up with a laugh. Seb managed to capture a photo of you and Andre mid-laugh, Andre cuddling Maia with one arm and the other still wrapped around your waist. “I need you to send that to me, Seb,” Andre said. He was still looking down at you with a softness that made your heart flutter. 

Andre’s mother brought out a carafe of coffee for the group to enjoy, and you settled onto the arm of Andre’s chair as he brought up the picture Seb took. It was one of the nicest photos the two of you had ever taken together. It was hard to get you to pose for pictures unless you were drunk, so a majority of the photos you two had together were either candid or at a bar. “Do you mind if I post this?” Andre looked up at you with a pleading look, and you shook your head. “Thanks, Y/N.” You ran your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck as he smiled. 

Seb snorted when he saw the caption that Andre chose, but you couldn’t help but smile softly at the photo and the caption he’d chosen. “Celebrating Y/N’s first Midsommar with my summertime babies,” he’d written, closing it off with a heart emoji. Gabe was going to have a field day with that caption, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care about Andre’s teammates as Alexandra and Robert pulled you into an explanation of what to expect that evening. 

The celebration was something else. The Burakovskys had decided to host a Midsommar party “to give you the most authentic experience possible”, in the words of Robert. The entire family dove into Andre’s insistence that you experience Midsommar properly with the enthusiasm that made you believe it was a genetic trait and not exclusive to Andre. Every person you got introduced to somehow knew you were a June baby, and several older women said something in Swedish that usually involved Andre’s name and you suspected had something to do with the two of you being in a relationship. 

Andre found you as the night wore on and the dancing began, and the two of you laughed quietly as he swept you through the yard. “You know,” you whispered as Andre pulled you closer, “I couldn’t understand half of what they said but it sounds like the old women here think we’re together.” You’d stared straight ahead as you spoke, and tried to keep your tone light despite the thudding of your heart. Andre gently pressed a kiss to your temple, just underneath the flower crown that was slowly wilting on your head. He mumbled something in Swedish, and you sighed into his shoulder. “English, please, Dre.”

“I said I’d like for us to be.” He tightened his hold around your waist slightly as he spoke, like he thought you’d run away. So maybe he did want to kiss you earlier. 

You leaned up and kissed his jaw, smiling against his skin as he froze. “I’d like that too, Dre.” 

It seemed like the entire celebration had stopped to witness your exchange, and several shouts rang out in Swedish as Andre dipped you down and kissed you properly, dramatic as always. You recognized one shout in English, from Robert, and Andre gently lifted you back to your feet; “It’s about damn time, Andre! I thought I was gonna have to set her up with one of your cousins!” You giggled, and hid your face in Andre’s shoulder as he glared at his father. A very Glad Midsommar indeed.  

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Heat Haze Daze

song is Kangerou Days by Kagepro and was also my bop back in seventh grade

———————

With a chilling vibrato, Jane concluded her performance of At Last. Instantly, there was a booming swell of cheering and clapping, and a very radiant look of adoration from both Kitty and Joan. The silver queen smiled bashfully, but proudly and bowed. A second later, Anne crashed into her, spinning her around in a tight hug.

“Oh! My! God!!!” Anne exclaimed, clasping Jane’s hands in hers mere minutes after releasing her from the bear hug. “That was so amazing!! You did so good, Janey!!!”

“Oh please,” Jane waved a hand dismissively. “It wasn’t that good.”

“Don’t be modest,” Aragon said. “You have a wonderful voice, dear.” Her retort was backed up by several agreeing comments in the whirlwind of a comment section on the Live.

Jane blushed. “Thank you, Catalina. Thank you everyone, really!”

After a few more compliments and Jane struggling to not be humble, the Sunday Session was wrapped up.

Or so they all thought.

“W-wait-” A nervous, shaking voice squeaked. “I’m sorry. Can I sing something?”

They all looked over to their fidgety pianist, who can’t seem to stop tugging anxiously on the straps of her overalls. Suddenly, she looked a lot younger and her choice of outfit seemed a lot dumber, but fitting for her current shy demeanor. Only Joan would wear such a thing with a sunflower yellow shirt underneath, despite it being 2020.

“You?” Kitty said. She glanced Joan up and down, as if she were trying to find an ounce of vocal talent in her. “Why?”

“Because I want to.” Joan said, gathering herself up to her full size and this time not stammering, although she didn’t seem any more mature in those stupid overalls. “Please? I have this song I wanted to sing and I’ve really been practicing and...” She trailed off, opting to look up at the queen with hopeful eyes.

Despite most of them not being all that close with Joan, they had to admit that those puppy dog eyes were extremely effective, so they gave in and agreed. Instantly, Joan perked up. It seemed she wasn’t expecting them to say yes.

“Oh joy!” Joan exclaimed in glee. She skittered back over to her keyboard, tripping momentarily on one of the crisscrossing wires on the floor in her excitement. She nearly toppled over when she sat down in her stool, but regained her balance and flashed a grin at the queens and the phone pointed at her. “Ready?”

There’s a scattering of agreements, both in person and in the chat, although she couldn’t see those. She beamed again, then promptly straightened herself up and turned to her keyboard.

In an instant, her glowing smile and shimmering eyes were wiped, leaving her face blank and focused. But even then, it was clear her nerves were beginning to take over, knowing that tons of people, including the ones she desperately wanted to impress and the ones that didn’t like her at all, were there, watching her.

Joan’s stomach flipped at the thought of singing in front of so many fans and the queens. She’d sung before, but nothing like this. Not where other people really noticed or heard her. Stage fright began to get the better of her as she awkwardly fidgeted for a moment, then got her fingers into the right place and began to play an upbeat, fast-paced tune. A moment later, her voice resonated through the air.

“August 15th at 12:30 noon I don't see a cloud above

The sun is shining down, what a pretty day

So sick of this summer heat I can't beat away the haze

The rays are giving way

And spending all of my time having conversations sitting next to you”

The words, slightly rough from a lack of a vocal career, slide gently from her lips. They shake and shudder as they come out, but hold strong and don’t fracture on the tip of her tongue like a few of the queens and many of the viewers were expecting.

Joan was actually singing.

And she was singing good.

“"Hey but I...don't really like the summertime"

And as you were petting on that cat you said such a daring thing

Right from under your breath”

It was amazing. Sure, it was no Heart of Stone or All You Wanna Do, and maybe her voice wavered and strained on simple notes a few times, but Joan was actually doing really well. A lot better than anyone was expecting. In fact, Kitty had been betting that she would have failed the moment she opened her mouth.

“Ah, and as that cat had ran away

You tried to chase it in the end

Jumping right out in front of a

Traffic light that poured a shade of red bright red”

And then, things took a jarring twist.

“Crashing in and breaking you to bits

That truck a heard a scream a little bit too late

Blood dripping everywhere and choking your smell of hair

I breathe in a gulp of air and just can't take it

Are these lies? The heat is mocking me

"What you see is exactly what you're gonna get!"

And with the blue of sky I hear singing crickets cry and

Fall right back into another dark sleep”

It happened out of nowhere- the peaceful, serene song Joan had been singing suddenly wrenched around and turned into something much more sinister with enough force to give everyone watching whiplash. The warm summer day she sang of was gone, replaced by the gruesome image of a grueling car accident. And her tone helped portray that perfectly.

Joan’s voice was dripping with gore. It oozed from her lips like pus from an abscess and stained any ears that heard the lullaby of carnage she was harmonizing. Her eyes were lit up, too, wide and shining silver. She rocked back and forth as she sang, sometimes leaning forward against her keyboard on the more intense notes, only to lean back and relax on the lighter ones, although every word in that chorus seemed to be gratuitously gruesome.

And then, her words die off and the tune of her keyboard morphed back into a gentle, peaceful hum.

“Sitting up in my bed I could hear ticking clocks the shock

Will mock my ever ringing head

I look to see the time

August 14th at 12 something noon I don't see a cloud above

The sun is shining down

And yet I hear a cry of a cricket singing loudly in my head”

The queens were shocked into silence, and not just out of respect during a performance. They were genuinely stunned by the darkness of Joan’s song. And, yes, they knew that she had her own pent up emotions, but never in a million years did they expect their shy, soft-spoken, stuttering music director to ever sing such a thing.

It was startling. Actually startling.

“"Hey but I...I really have to wonder why

Because in the dream I had last night we sat in the

Same old park we are sitting at now

"Hey, I think the two of us should leave."

But stepping slightly off the path, their heads turned up towards sky

And were gaping pointing struggling to keep away a scream”

Something flashed in Joan’s eyes. The queens braced themselves.

“Stabbing holes and splitting you in two

The beam made seam as it fell straight from the sky

Ringing an old wind chime and shaking a passerby then filling the air

Until they hit those park trees

Are these lies? The heat is mocking me

"Bet you wish you were asleep, but it's not a dream!"

Vision it blurred away and keeping my thoughts at bay I swear you stood there while keeping such a dark smile”

A tidal wave of carnage spilled free from Joan’s lips and crashed over the queens. Another vivid death is laid out for them, this one somehow much worse than the first.

The reactions to such a thing were mixed.

Aragon had her chin raised in an impressed manner. She was stunned to see Joan sing such a thing, but proud nonetheless.

Anne looked a little dizzy, as she wasn’t the best with blood, even blood in a song. She shut her eyes, trying not to think about what was happening to the poor girl being sung about, but ultimately failing.

Jane was startled. The look in Joan’s eyes gave her chills, making her feel entirely exposed even though she’s just another face in the crowd at that moment, another spectator in the small Sunday Session audience.

Cleves hadn’t expected Joan of all people to sing a song like this. She didn’t think she had it in her, so the girl had her captivated.

Kitty was backed up against Jane, her face twisted with disgust and fear. She kept looking up at her mother, hoping her pleading eyes would make her yell at Joan to stop and shut up, but she was dismayed to see Jane far too engulfed in the song to notice her distress.

Cathy was intrigued. She never really took Joan for the type to sing, and yet, here she was. And her transitions from slow to fast, from relaxed to intense, from soft to loud, where smooth and amazing. Especially the one right after the first chorus- an elongated, downward spiral of madness.

“Endlessly I see that over heated haze

And again the laughing will repeat on through the days

You've been dying for the past ten years

We are trapped in cycles and the end is never clear”

Joan’s voice has softened, as was her playing. The notes echoed around the auditorium, soft and mournful. It sounded like the ghosts of ancient monarchs whispering from beneath the floorboards.

“But a story is a story all the same

And today like any has an ending so to say

Far away and out beyond that scorching summer day”

For a moment, all is silent. The queens get just a second to breathe and recover from the madness they had just heard, and then Joan is slamming her hands down on the keys and sliding them down the keyboard, causing an awful, but fitting shriek to pierce through the air.

“Crashing in and hitting me instead you

I pushed you aside to nearly dodge a truck

Blood dripping everywhere and choking my smell of hair

You breathe in a gulp of air and just can't take it

Are these lies? I haven't heard him say

"What you see is exactly what your gonna get"”

Her voice is soft at first, but then it builds up and up and up until it’s an uproar of blood-soaked words and shrill, screaming notes. Her eyes are lit up again, this time even brighter, and her vibrato shuddered in the air. At the last line, she suddenly leapt to her feet, knocking over her stool and continuing to play enthusiastically while keeping pace with her music.

“Maybe this summer day has finally gone away

But that's all I'll say so this is where it ends now”

Before the instrumental took over, she slammed her fingers down on the keys and cried over the wailing sound, singing louder and louder and louder.

“August 14th and sitting alone on a bed a girl awakes repeating just the same

Muttering again

"Guess I failed again.." as she sat all alone

And held a cat still cradled in her arms”

With a few final notes, the song concluded. Joan stumbled back, taking deep, heaving breaths. Sweat is dripping down her reddened face. She didn’t bother to wipe it away, instead whipping around to the queens with an eager expression.

“Well?” She said, beaming at their gobsmacked expressions. “What did you think?”

[lady-of-lies]

King of your heart

A/N: Just one more prompt and I’m back on track!! This is just a cute little blurb written in all haste and as all the other fics I’ve posted lately it’s not at all edited, but I hope someone finds joy between the words

Prompt: “This isn’t working, is it?”

Word count: 949

Warnings: None at all!

Loki Laufeyson x reader

It was finally here! The most wonderful time of the year had finally arrived!, yeah, right, what a load of crap that was. This part of the year has not been any different from the rest besides that it now is freezing cold and you need a million layers of clothing just to step out the door. Still, you prefer this weather to the inhuman heat waves washing in on the country every summer, in your own words ‘it was hot enough to get everyone roasted’, a pun that, mind you, against popular belief had been very well received. 

Even if there were a lot of things with this holiday season causing you more problems than enjoyment, there is one thing that will bring a smile to your lips every time. Figure skating, or just skating in general, if there's ice involved you were in, simple as that. When a certain god sauntered in to your life, quite literally, you didn’t know of his chilly heritage. You had found out by accident one time during the cursed summertime a few months ago, and ever since you had loved him even more. It must have been fate, if there was such a thing out there, that is.

You had been laying the groundwork for the past few weeks now, you had been sucking up to him left and right, being overly sweet, baking him those cookies he loves so much despite them being a ‘midgardian miniature’ of whatever cookies they had back in his beloved Asgardian palace. Dating a literal prince had its pros and cons, mostly pros, but when it came to normal everyday chores such as laundry or cooking he was hopeless. But you loved him nevertheless. You wanted him to come ice skating with you tomorrow, you wanted to show him the only holiday activity worth trying. It would have been an easy feat if he wasn’t as stubborn  as a donkey’s backside.

You approached him with caution, much like you would a scared animal. He sat in his usual spot by the window, feet propped up on a nearby table, a book in his lap lazily kept in place with two fingers and head relaxing against a Christmas pillow. Moreover, that pillow is one of the few Christmas decorations you allowed into your home, it reflected you holiday spirit perfectly, and quite frankly summed up Loki’s entire character in two simple words “Oh deer”. Both funny and useful, the perfect combination.

You stood still, silently watching him for a while, contemplating if this really was a good idea. Your nerves were all on edge and you made a mental note to never wear a shirt with cufflinks when trying to ask important questions. It was now or never. You had to get it out before you changed your mind and just walked away again. You started with a careful yet noticeable clearing of your throat to catch his attention. He didn’t look up from the old pages of parchment but you knew he was listening to you thanks to the slight rising of his right eyebrow.

“Loki, I was uh… I was wondering… If you, might, you don’t have to by any means, but it would make me very happy if yo-”

You had started to word vomit. Great. And you would have continued on with that if you hadn’t been stopped by a curious gaze sent your way accompanied with a loud thud as the book that he had previously been reading snapped shut. His feet were no longer resting on the table and his very regal, and to be honest, somewhat degrading position, told you that you now had his full attention. 

“You’re stalling, my dear. What is it?”

It was a simple sentence, yet he managed to calm you down with so little. It amazed you what effects he had on you, but right now there was no time for such thoughts right now, you had a mission to accomplish. At least that’s what you kept on telling yourself. 

“I just.. uhm… wanted to ask you if you wanted to come skating with me tomorrow?”

For a minute there you thought you’d just rambled on in front of a statue or something with how still he had become. He had clearly not expected that to be the ‘very important thing’ you wanted to ask him before. The clock ticked on and on and he didn’t move a muscle. Not. A. One. Maybe you broke him? He didn’t even blink for a solid three minutes before the silence finally got to you and you, once again, started to ramble in a futile attempt to save the situation.

“This isn’t working, is it? I tried to ask nicely, maybe I shouldn't have said anything, I will just go by myself tomorrow, really, there’s no problem at all I’ll eve-”

“Will you stop talking for a second, pet? I may have been surprised by your proposition at first, but seeing as it means so much to you I’ll gladly accompany you to this ‘ice skating’ thing you talk so fondly about.”

Now that was a welcomed surprise, not like last year when you got stuck up a turkey’s ass, but that’s a story for another time. Tomorrow you would get to show loki the real reason why you adored ice as much s you did, and who knows, maybe he will come to share this love with time. You just couldn’t wait for him to realize he was a king already. He was the king of your heart.

Permanent Tag list:

@theincaprincess​ @deepestfirefun​ @indelwen-of-mirkwood​ @gaia-writes-stuff​ @sdavid09​  @peter-pan-on-neverland​ @ek823​ @naomiiiiiiiiiii04​ @soradragon​ @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy​

[zacharybosch]

Playing Dead - chapter 7 (final)

here we are, at the end of the road. it's been real.

optional end credits music: The Big Unknown by Sade, or The Spoils by Massive Attack

chapter 1: tumblr / ao3

chapter 2: tumblr / ao3

chapter 3: tumblr / ao3

chapter 4: tumblr / ao3

chapter 5: tumblr / ao3

chapter 6: tumblr / ao3

read chapter 7 of Playing Dead below or on ao3!

Bev found sleeping on a train to be near impossible, despite the exhaustion she felt in every bone and muscle of her body. Miriam seemed to have no such troubles, but perhaps it was just that she’d pushed herself to the limit and had no option but to immediately pass out in their little cabin. The carriage rocked back and forth as the train hurtled along the tracks and through the night, and coupled with the frantic whir of Bev’s thoughts, she knew that she was not going to get any rest.

She got up and went to sit in the tiny chair by the window. They would be arriving in Avignon tomorrow. Miriam had identified it as one of a few likely stopping points for Will and Hannibal on their race out of Italy. Bev didn’t know how she had come to this conclusion, and she didn’t want to know. It was as if they’d never left home, Miriam with her nose buried in her laptop and Bev stuck on the outside looking in. She no longer had the strength to try and talk Miriam out of it. She knew in her heart that they were breaking apart at the seams. All she could do was sit and wait to see if they would make it to Avignon in one piece.

It quickly became too much to be shut up in the tiny cabin with only her own anxious thoughts for company, so Bev left the cabin as quietly as she could and headed for the back of the train. There was a small balcony there, open to the air and deserted at this hour, and Bev breathed deeply as she stepped out onto it. The tendrils of her hair were immediately picked up by the wind, and for a long moment she just stood there, eyes closed, letting the coolness of the night sink into her skin.

The door behind her clicked gently, and then Will was standing with her on the balcony.

Bev waited for the cold, sick feeling to arrive, or the boiling anger, or the impetus to fight or flee. But there was nothing left for her to feel beyond the hollowness of exhaustion.

“Have you come to kill us?” she asked.

“I thought about it,” Will said. “I was of two minds walking through the train. Trying to decide if it would be a kindness.”

“Did you come to a conclusion?”

“I don’t know. Do you want to die, Beverly?” There was no threat in Will’s voice, just a quiet curiosity. It was almost worse, somehow.

“No, I-- I don’t want to die. But sometimes I wish I was already dead.”

“I’ll take it away, if you ask me to.”

Bev turned from Will to lean her elbows against the railing, and stared out into the dark. “Why didn’t you do it when Miriam first asked? You could’ve saved us all so much pain.”

Will moved to lean next her, careful inches between them. “I thought she was my friend, and she thought I was a particularly clever pet. I felt betrayed by her. But I suppose I wasn’t thinking too clearly about a lot of things at that point in time.”

“Almost sounds like human feelings,” Bev said, with a humourless half-smile.

“Almost,” Will agreed.

They stood in silence for a while, side by side, as the train bore them on through the night. Bev wondered how she had never noticed before that Will looked so profoundly un-human. It was easy to blend him in with everyone else when he was in a crowd, when she could subconsciously take their human characteristics and apply them to Will, give him warm skin and a breathing chest and reflexive little twitches. Now, on the balcony in the middle of the night, he looked like a marble statue that had been standing out there for centuries.

“I really hoped this could be it, you know. That clean break that Miriam kept talking about. She was so deep inside her own head, suffocating… If we could just cut through all the bullshit and let her breathe again…” Bev picked at a slim splinter of wood on the railing, and flicked it out into the night. “Guess I misjudged.”

“I’ve found that clean breaks rarely live up to the hopes of the people pursuing them. No matter how brutally you cut it out, you will always carry a piece of trauma with you. Miriam did a good job of pretending like she was past it.”

“I wish she hadn’t,” Bev said. “How did Hannibal react? When you first told him what you are.”

Will stared at the train tracks, at the bright flash of metal quickly disappearing into the dark. “He blinked, twice. Then he just accepted it.”

“Must’ve been nice.”

“Yeah. It was.”

Beverly was silent for a long while. She was lovely in the moonlight, her dark hair tangling in the wind and her skin touched with the blue glow of the stars. Will could see it easily enough, what could’ve been were he the human that Beverly had believed in: a friendship, stuttering at first but becoming more comfortable by the day; pancakes and bacon at an early-morning diner, case files spread over the table, black coffee and black humour to help wake them up; cookouts in the summertime, and maybe a drunken kiss, once, twice, but nothing would really come of it, and he would encourage her to pursue Miriam because he knows they would be good together.

But it was someone else’s life. Impossible to hold on to, unthinkable to have.

“Is there any way forward?” Beverly asked.

“You could let us stay dead. We would disappear into the world somewhere, and we wouldn’t try to find you. We could avoid America entirely, until you’ve both passed on from this life. It can be easy.”

“It’s never easy.”

“No, it’s not.” Will covered Beverly’s hand with his own. It was the first time they’d ever touched, and she flinched. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“You and Hannibal have sucked so much of the joy out of my life. You take and take from everyone around you whether you mean to or not. Your presence is like a black hole. I feel so hollow.” She turned her hand in Will’s grip, and clasped his fingers with her own. “Make it stop now. Please.”

Will drew Beverly into his arms. He had given up apologising a long time ago, and couldn’t fathom it now as something that he might ever reasonably do again, but he understood in that moment what moved people to apologise over and over as they repeated the same mistakes throughout their lives. For such short-lived creatures, words were important; the world was so harsh, and humans were so tender and small. There was no time between birth and death for them to thicken their skin. Apologies were all they had.

They remained there, on the dark little balcony at the back of the train, for a long time. Eventually Bev took Will’s hand again, and led him back inside the train.

In the cabin, Miriam stirred in her sleep, the spill of her hair shifting pale across the pillow. Will perched gently on the edge of her bunk, and laid a cool hand on her cheek.

“Miriam,” he whispered, soft as anything.

She made a small irritated noise, and her brow creased slightly, and then her eyes fluttered halfway open. “Will?” she said, still mostly asleep.

“Yes. You’re having a dream, Miriam. Can you open your eyes further?”

“I don’t… I’m asleep…”

“Yes, you are. But you can open your eyes. Try it.” Miriam’s eyelids were heavy and kept falling shut, until eventually she managed to open them and keep them open. Her eyes were unfocused and wandering, but then Will delicately tilted her head and caught her gaze with his own, and her eyes didn’t stray any further. “That’s good. You’re still asleep, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Miriam said, and her voice was small and far away.

“I’ve come to say goodbye. And… to say thank you, for taking care of me, in the best way you were able. Keep your eyes on me, now.”

Will leaned very close to Miriam’s face, speaking softly against her skin for what felt like an eternity. And then it was done, and her eyes drifted closed, and she turned beneath the sheets and slept on.

Will turned to Bev, who was sitting on the tiny armchair that was the only other seat in the cabin. She’d raised the blind to gaze out of the small window at the dark rushing trees, not wanting to see Will do whatever it was that he had to do.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and Bev just nodded. Will came to stand before her, and tilted her head just as he had with Miriam.

“Will it hurt?” Bev asked, and felt immediately foolish for doing so.

Will smiled. “No. There’s no pain, and it will be over very quickly.” He knelt down, so his eyeline was level with Beverly’s, and then began to speak in a low, hypnotic tone. “You’re on a train, Beverly, heading out of Italy. You’re on holiday with your girlfriend. You both work so hard, and you needed a break…”

Quietly, carefully, Will rewrote Beverly’s life.

There was a brief disturbance in the air, as if someone had suddenly left the room, and Bev looked up from her aimless gaze through the window. She hadn’t realised how difficult it would be to sleep on a train, the constant rocking and rumbling of the wheels jolting her awake so many times throughout the night. Miriam seemed to have no problem with it; she was sound asleep, fingers curling in contentment against the sheets.

Bev sighed and got up to cross the small cabin. If she was going to be awake, she might as well be awake in bed instead of awake in a small and not-particularly-comfortable chair. She climbed carefully beneath the sheets of the narrow bunk, and drew Miriam close with an arm around her waist. They would arrive in Avignon tomorrow. Bev thought of the ancient city streets she wanted to walk down, the lazy flow of the Rhône glittering in the sunlight, and the café where they might stop and drink wine at lunchtime. It was a good thought, and she found herself smiling as she slipped imperceptibly into sleep.

***

Several carriages along, Will returned to his own cabin.

“It’s done?” Hannibal asked. He was sitting in almost exactly the same position that Beverly had been, in the tiny chair by the tiny window, moonlight spilling across his face just as it had spilled across hers.

“It’s done,” Will said.

“Then we’re free to move onwards as we see fit.”

“For the most part. I think it would be prudent to avoid America for a while.”

Hannibal smiled, eyes and teeth flashing in the dark. “As you say. We have all the time in the world, after all.”

[wlw-imagines-blog]

There is No Ending For Us (Part 2) (Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader)

Part One Here

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death, Endgame Spoilers,

Word Count: 1.5k words

Summary: Reader remembers her time with Natasha, and mourns the deaths of the two famous Avengers.

Tagged: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

A/N: thank you everyone for the feedback! So, at the beginning, this is after the battle with Thanos at the destroyed complex, but before Steve goes back in time (at Tony's funeral). Also this isn’t going to be any happier than the first part.

Hours passed like minutes. You let Steve carry you into a hallway before pulling you into a tight hug. Your hands landed on his back, tears blurring your vision. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” you heard Steve say, voice aching. You had said nothing, silently weeping in anguish. That was all you remember him saying. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

As the Avengers worked on the new gauntlet, you forced yourself to leave. You couldn't stay. There was nothing else you could do. A taxi drove you through Manhattan, stopping and starting in rush hour traffic. Upon returning to your apartment, you crumpled, sitting on the kitchen floor, crying. 

Everything seemed to blur together; the return of those who disappeared for five years, a destructive battle at the Avenger's compound, and the untimely death of Tony Stark.

There was plenty of loss in the newfound joy the world was experiencing.

At Tony's funeral, you stood there, watching Pepper and Morgan set the wreath into the water. Your chest was tight, head aching from the tears. It was strange to see so many people who had fought against each other at one point, standing together and honoring a man they barely knew.

After the ceremony, you found Clint by a long, winding river, near a large oak tree.

You threw yourself at him, arms wrapping tight around his neck.

"We did it," he choked into your neck. You could feel his tears seeping through the fabric of your jacket.

You pulled away, eyes shining. "She'd be proud of us."

"She is. I know she is."

Your brows furrowed, mouth twisted, threatening to submit to heavy sobs, but you grit your teeth.

"Y/N," he said, face heavy with guilt. "I tried to stop her. I tried to take her place but she beat me to it."

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "I know, Clint. It's... it's okay. She made the call."

Looking past him, you saw his wife, Laura, and his three children, all dressed in black, standing close to their mother. Laura offered you a kind smile.

"She wanted you to be with them," you managed to say. "They need you."

Clint shook his head. "If anything, I need them."

You smiled at his family before speaking. "I just can't believe I'm never going to see her again. I thought, after the Snap, that we would have more time. But, everyday, I could tell she thought about that day in Wakanda. What she could have done to save everyone, and how they could have beaten Thanos. It was tearing her up." You let your hands shake. "She would wake up in the middle of the night, crying about it. It hurt to see her like that."

"She wanted to make it right," Clint whispered.

You nodded again. "I just wish I could've been there with her."

Clint regarded you. "She loved you. Before Nat died, she wanted me to tell you that."

Your mouth twitched as tears ran down your cheeks. Clint hugged you tightly.

Emptiness swirled in your stomach, curling at the back of your throat, choking you alive.

~**~

When you become an 'adult' time seems to pass a lot quicker. In elementary school, recess was about ten minutes, but sometimes it felt like thirty. When you grow up, you can occupy so much time with your life, and make hours feel like minutes. But when you dread something, it takes forever for time to pass.

It takes three, stagnant years before you visit Natasha.

Within that time, you tried to find balance and security in a world that had seen tragedy and celebration. You tried to mourn while everyone around you celebrated.

The first five months were incredibly difficult. You often stayed inside, too sick with grief to leave for work, or meet with anyone.

Th people you least expected came over to visit. One month after the funeral, Wanda Maximoff showed up at your door, looking displaced and uncertain. You let her in, and the two of you spent hours talking and weeping, before she left. The Tuesday after that, Stephen Strange appeared, and you asked question after question. Was this the only way? Could they have saved everyone? He answered everything you asked. A young man named Peter, who you learned had been Tony’s protege stopped by, eyes big and already red. You let him in without asking anymore questions; besides, the kettle had just boiled, and you preferred company when having tea.

You spent more time than you thought possible at Clint and Laura’s place, sometimes even staying the night. They became a second family to you. You could confide in Laura, and the kids found your fun to be around when the sadness was not so thick. 

Steve visited once a week. Sometimes you would meet him for coffee, or hang out in the evening, but he became something of a constant for you. He was solid, and grounded, especially when you felt like you were sinking. This was all until he told you his plan for returning the infinity stones.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Steve?” You asked, finger tracing the rim of your cup of coffee.

Steve smiled to himself. “I’m not if it’s a good or bad idea, but it’s what I want.”

You thought about Natasha, and how much you would give to be with her. 

You looked at Steve. “Then, go for it.”

Three years and two weeks after Steve left, you found yourself in the middle of a forest, where the trees thinned and opened to a vast field of wild grass.

"Um, hello, Natasha," you said uncomfortably. "I know it's been a while. I'm really sorry about that. I-I guess time really does fly, huh?"

There was no response. Your voice seemed too loud in the empty meadow.

"I thought this would be a nice place for you," you continued, hand tightening around the bouquet you held. "Plenty of trees, and grass. You would love it, in the summertime, these orange roses and violets blossom in the field over there." You nodded to your left. "It's so pretty, Nat. I know you'd love it."

You crouched, placing the lilies at the base of the headstone.

"Fuck, Nat," your voice hitched, shaking when your dropped the flowers. "I still love you. I should have said it more to you. I should have done a lot actually. I should have forced you to leave the compound more, I should have taken you away; to Morocco like you always wanted. I should have called you and spent every second more with you. I should have gotten down on one knee and begged you to marry me."

You knelt down, fingers brushing the headstone of an empty grave. "We should have done so much more together. And I know, I'm going to live with that feeling of regret. Holy shit, Nat, sometimes it's so strong, I think I'm going to be sick. It keeps me up at night, and I'm not even kidding!" You wiped your nose, not caring how hysterical you sounded. "Its been four years, and I can't sleep the same! It's just so empty without you, Nat. And honestly, I'm ashamed to say that sometimes, I curse you. I get so angry, and full of hate, and I scream! I just go crazy! How could you have left me? When everyone came back? And you stayed dead! Everyone was in the streets, celebrating, while I was trying to figure out how to bury you without your body!"

You were shaking all over. Minutes passed as you sat, hearing nothing but the crickets and buzz of bees in the field. You wiped your nose with your sleeve "Fuck. You would hate to see me like this, wouldn't you?" You said ruefully. "I bet on every star in the sky, you'd say, 'stop being so dramatic, Y/N. Pick yourself up and get on with it.' Well, I'm sorry, Nat. I'm not like you."

You pressed your forehead to the cold stone. "I could never be as good as you."

"This is going to get easier," you sniffed, pushing through the tears. "I know it is. I've got that hope you always carried around with you. After this, I'm going over to Clint and Laura's for dinner. They really miss you too, Nat, we all do.” You were standing now, somehow still talking despite everything. “Bruce has changed, he's so distant. Thor's gone for now, Steve's gone too. Tony... well, he's up there with you, isn’t he? Tell him I say hi, we miss him so much."

You pressed your fingers to your lips, then rested them on the top of the headstone. A weak smile danced on your lips as you pulled away. 

"I love you, Natasha. I’ll, visit again soon. Really soon, I promise,” you breathed, air pressing against your lungs as though you were breathing for the first time in a decade. You felt the ghost of a hand against your back, helping push you forward

 You walked back to your car, and drove away.