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sasuhinasno1fan · 1 month ago

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When your boyfriend is a hero - Lukitty Week Day 2 2024

I had gotten distracted, but I did it. So, we've seen the episodes where Chat Noir has to be around Marinette, unknowing that she knows kitty better than he thinks. I did that, but with Luka. Reminder that this is set in the Wish universe where Luka is Scarlet Bug. Adrien has recently been given the cat miraculous and calls himself Bast Luck. Hopefully this still counts. It's still Adrien, he's just using a different name. @lukacouffaineappreciation Luka & Chat Noir (or in this case Bast Luck)

Luka knew this would have happened eventually. Getting sick from all the overworking. University classes weren’t bad, since he was doing a reduced schedule after getting extra classes done during summer break. It was just, Bob Roth decided that Kitty Section had to start their contract fully as school started for everyone involved and since the group wasn’t budging on those who helped them behind the scenes, most of the class was busy. Luka also knew a number of them would be out chasing akumas, thanks to the odd increase during the summer. Kagami had mostly spent it staying with Adrien, as her family was hosting Lila back from Japan, as she refused to return home and was apparently pitching a fit at the idea of staying at her new boarding school for the whole summer.

Akumas had been low for the summer, which was a blessing. With Su-Han taking over most of the Guardian tasks, Luka had actually gotten a break to go with Adrien to visit his family in Italy. The time there had been the subject of his first written piece for his songwriting class. Apparently, his classmates were a fan of the happy and in love emotions they got from the lyrics. Adrien used the recording as his new ringtone.

Anyway, now school had started back up and all the French heroes were busy thanks to Hawkmoth or Scarletmoth, who was showing up more and more. that added with Bob Roth’s brilliant plan to overload kids just starting new phases in their life and you ended up with Luka passing out in the middle of writing an essay so suddenly, Tikki freaked out and risked being seen to go find Juleka. Their mom was working in the middle of the French Riveria, and was ready to try and come back. Only, her current contract had actually been for charting the moving catwalk for a Fashion Week event, which turned out to be an unasked favour Jagged was doing for her. The pay check would set them up for their mom being able to stay around for a while, which they wanted, so Luka told his mom to stay put. Online classes were still done, but it did involve needing to replay recorded lectures over and set up a word document to text-to-speech live classes. Lying in bed meant he had time to work on assignments when the cold hadn’t muddled his mind. Tikki tried helping him speed along in healing, but like Plagg’s bad luck powers were a bit unpredictable, Tikki’s good luck powers were precise. She’d end up making him feel warm after shivering rather than break his fever. He appreciated the help non the less.

He was dozing off to the sounds of a book series Marc had recommended, an older one about fairies, their changeling warriors and the hidden princess of both Seelie and Unseelie courts, when the words about a war horse hiding behind long hair and beads was interrupted by the sound for an akuma attack warning. There had been one other attack during his illness and he almost ended up passing out before the fight even started. Bast Luck had to be the one to come up with a plan with his him, Scarlet Bug, Tigresse Poupre and Venom. He did well, but Luka didn’t want to place any of that stress on the others, not when they weren’t ready.

But moving…

After the noise from the notice stopped when he acknowledged it, the story started to continue only to be interrupted again by Juleka calling him.

“I don’t want you anywhere near that fight but you’re also the only one to get the akuma and make the charm, so listen ok? This is the plan.”

______________

Adrien wanted to throttle Hawkmoth on a daily bases but today was extra desirable because Luka was sick, nonna had sent the recipe for her miracle soup for her favourite devil boy and instead of making a pot to drop off to the liberty – between homework, cosplay pattern making and trying to word an email to Roth for the pictures he was promised for Kitty Section socials – he was here, actually dealing with an akumatized XY. The DJ was jealous of the popularity Kitty Section was getting and was taking it out on his father. word of targeting the band only just came up thanks to the balding yapping dog throwing them under the bus.

“I think I should go look after Luka.” Adrien suggested, while the group of them sat crouched behind an XY billboard. It was the only thing the overgrown baby wouldn’t try and destroy. “The guitar player? He’s like the true leader right?”

“Only cause he’s older. Rose is the front man.” Tigresse said before shaking her head. “I can take care of him, or better yet, get Scarlet to look after him.”

Adrien wanted to point out that Rose was less likely to be targeted because XY seemed to forget she existed half the time but Vixen interrupted him. “Where is Scarlet anyway? I asked that like 4 times already.”

Tarasq spoke from his collar. “He’s the only one who can get the akuma, unless you know of some other way?”

“I think having the person capable of destroying the item with the main person targeted is a better idea.” Adrien interrupted, trying to get their co-leader to listen to him.

“Why not focus on Adrien Rossi? He’s gone up against XY.” Tigresse reminded.

“He was also akumatized and stole XY’s voice after insulting him. I think he’ll be fine.”

“Does that mean the drummer is fine? I mean, he was the first akuma and he’s big.” Venom asked.

“Ok, but what about Juleka and Rose? Juleka is Luka’s sister and like you said, Rose is the front man. Shouldn’t we go after them?” Tarasq asked.

“Couffaine!” the akumatized XY screamed. “Show yourself, you fucking blueberry!”

Bast Luck gave Tigresse a look that screamed ‘see?’

“Ok, fine. Bast Luck, you go protect Luka. I’ll take care of Rose and Juleka. Venom, you keep an eye on Ivan. You two,” she pointed to Vixen and Tarasq, keep him distracted. I’ve got a plan, but it’s not gonna work if he has hostages or keep making a mess.”

“At least the ScarCat program will get to be used if Scarlet Bug doesn’t show up.” Vixen said, nodding to Tarasq. “Come on. think you can play keep away with a fake guitar player?”

Adrien didn’t wait much longer for Tigresse’s instructions, heading towards the Liberty. Last he heard, Luka was going to try and work on assignments, maybe sleep for as long as he could. Adrien knew his relationship with Luka was public knowledge, so he wondered if XY would go to Adrien’s house looking for Luka. the DJ was an idiot, so maybe they could luck out. how he was going to explain Adrien being missing, he didn’t know, but maybe he could expose his old Cat persona’s identity. But that might make the older one not trust him if he was willing to give out secrets so easily.

He reached the Liberty, confused when he saw Kagami’s red car and Luka getting into it. He didn’t feel bad jumping down onto the hood like Black Panther, just that the shaking startled them so bad it sent Luka into a coughing fit.

Kagami opened the sun roof, so he didn’t feel bad putting his boots all over the windshield, ignoring the computer’s voice about something being on it. “What are you doing?”

“I’d like to ask you that. My mother might be blind, but she will know if there’s a dent in the car. This thing senses everything that goes wrong with it and gives a report.” Kagami said, looking annoyed.

“Luka is being hunted by XY and he’s climbing into a car with you. I’m allowed to be concerned. Also, the city can pay for any damages Scarlet Bug can’t fix.” Adrien said, ignoring his friend to focus on his boyfriend.

Luka finally caught his breath, his eyes glassy but still looking determined. “My boyfriend’s place, I was going to go there, but Kagami’s house has better protection. We’re going over to Adrien’s apartment now to get him. My sister is with her girlfriend and Prince Ali at Le Grand Paris. I don’t know where Ivan is, but he texted that he’s ok.”

He was going to have to text the accurate locations to the others, but first… “Don’t you think XY knows about your boyfriend? Isn’t he a diplomates’ son? The Embassies have the same standard protection as things like the Mayor’s office.”

Adrien didn’t know why, but Luka got this look in his eye. he normally got it when he was keeping a secret from Adrien for a surprise.

“I’d rather just be with him. I’d feel better if I knew he was safe.”

That was so sweet. And so not helpful. Adrien wasn’t home as he was currently staring at his boyfriend, trying not to get red.

And why the hell was Luka smiling at him like that?

“I’ll bring him. Adrien. You just go to Kagami’s house and I’ll make sure Adrien gets there safe.”

“Really? See, I’ll always be a fan of Catseye but I think this is one of the reasons I love you Bast Luck.” Luka said, resting his chin on the drivers’ seat as he stared up at him, giving him the soft smile Luka gave him when he thought Adrien was being cute.

Ok, time to go. Adrien was never approaching his boyfriend as a hero ever again. Luka wasn’t even flirting, not doing a single thing that could be considered that and Adrien was nearly a mess from a few comments and looks.

_____________________

Luka felt a little bad making his boyfriend confused. He knew Kagami was going to get pulled in to fight since he and Juleka had to disappear to appear as themselves to keep XY on his toes. He had expected after Despera, Adrien wouldn’t want to split up – he had actually come to Kagami’s place, excuse that Bast Luck had to disappear to get back to the battle – but Juleka probably gave him some insistent demand that he needed to be there. As far as Adrien was aware, he’d left his boyfriend to rest inside the Tsurugi movie room while he took a while to get tea and get lost. While they were both gone and the house was empty thanks to Kagami’s mother being at the Japanese Embassy for some event or meeting, Luka was able to sneak back out onto the street. if everything was going well, Bast Luck should have XY’s item in hand with a Cataclysm and Scarlet Bug was going to show up to catch the akuma, before it spawned more.

The area by the fight was quiet except for XY’s yelling and the rumbling of buildings. He stopped by the front stoop of a building, trying to catch his breath. His hoodie was making him hot and the fuzzy pants was a choice but just a few more minutes and he could actually go back to bed.

“What are you doing here?”

Luka turned to see Bast Luck extending down on his staff.

Shit.

“Shouldn’t you be fighting?”

“Shouldn’t you be at Kagami’s house? I dropped off Adrien like I promised.”

“There you are, you blueberry!”

Fucking hell. XY, in all his weird, cheap Daft Punk look managed to get away and landed practically right on top of him. Luka spotted his sister, dress in her purple suit, looking panicked. Everything moved at once, XY screaming in anger, Bast Luck jumping towards them both, Tigresse yelling something and then the whole world spinning. Luka had to close his eyes to not be ill, only opening his eyes at the sound of Bast Luck’s staff. He was in Bast Luck’s arms, watching Ryuoko and Tigresse attack XY, rather violently. Kagami didn’t like XY and well, he’d do the same if the DJ tried attacking his sister out of costume.

The two landed on a roof a decent distance away and Luka felt worse at the worried look on Adrien’s face. “Are you ok? He didn’t get you did he?”

“No, no. I’m fine. thank you for saving me.”

Bast Luck looked annoyed, which, fair. “I wouldn’t need to if you stayed inside. You knew he was looking for you.”

“I know. I just…got worried he’d go after everyone else to get to me. I’m not exactly his favourite person.”

“I don’t think your boyfriend will exactly be happy with you when he hears about this.”

Luka knew that but if they wanted to end this now, Bast Luck had to get back to the fight. “He’ll be less thrilled if he finds out Team Miraculous couldn’t destroy the akuma in time.”

“Ah!. Ok, stay here! I’ll take you back myself ok?”

Tikki poked her head out when Bast Luck joined in attacking XY. “Poor Adrien. He’s gonna have a heart attack if Juleka can’t keep him busy so you can get back here. I’ve had some crazy experiences where holders don’t know everyone’s identity, but this had to be the most convoluted plan ever. You do plan on telling him right?”

“I will, just not right now. Once Su Han is more established as Guardian. Besides, it’s kinda cute watching your superhero boyfriend try not to overly panic when his supposedly civilian boyfriend is in trouble.”

Tikki sighed. “And here I thought my Egyptian holder trying to hide this from Anthony was bad enough.”

______________

Adrien found Luka curled up on one of the reclining chairs Bast Luck had left him in. It was weird finding out he could easily lift his boyfriend when sporting cat ears, since he was so used to feeling Luka’s weight whenever he laid on him. Seeing him out in the streets, seconds before XY spotted him took years off his life. Scarlet Bug had really crap timing, taking so long, but thankfully Luka didn’t try any other crazy self-sacrificing ideas and was waiting on the roof after Tigresse insisted on talking to the whole team while Scarlet Bug disappeared after fixing everything and shoving an anti-akumatization charm at XY.

“Hey. Time is it?” Luka asked, blinking tiredly at him. He had seemed pretty exhausted when Bast Luck brought him back to Kagami’s house. As much as Adrien wanted to call him out, Adrien had been in the kitchen for 30 minutes getting tea, not fighting an akuma who was after him, his boyfriend and the rest of their band because he got jealous of the attention. As far as Adrien knew, Luka stay right there in his seat, not at all whisked away and scolded by a hero with cat ears.

“Not long. how you feeling? I was going to start making soup when Bast Luck came to get me. You do know it probably would have been safer to stay separated right?” Adrien said, putting the mug down on the flat armrest and managing to snuggle in with Luka on the chair, letting the older boy use his lap as a pillow.

“Juleka was with Rose. Besides, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy being whisked away by a hero.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “I’ve met Scarlet Bug, twice in a situation where I could talk to him. Wasn’t that big a deal.”

Luka gave this sleepy smile. “I don’t know. I think I really like Bast Luck. He was very nice. Cute too, up close.” Adrien cleared his throat, not annoyed at the comment but he had to keep the lie up. “but you’re cuter.”

Adrien ran his hands through Luka’s hair. “Go to sleep. Trust me, when you wake up, you won’t even think Bast Luck is cuter than me.” Not if he had anything to say about it. he was not about to compete with his hero persona for his boyfriend’s attention.

Now only if he’d caught the smile Luka wore when he was teasing Adrien with information he already knew, maybe it would have started to click for the Italian boy, but for now, the secrets of Scarlet Bug and Bast Luck stayed where they were.

#lukadrien #wish series #lukittyweek2024

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andarthas-web · 2 years ago

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Wakanda Forever? More like Wakanda WTF!

I finally managed to watch Wakanda Forever and....WTF WAS THAT???

Who thought it was a good idea to center the movie on two BIPOC communities, both of which are threatened by neo-colonial and capitalist western ambitions, going to war with each other, because one of them can’t come up with a better solution to the dilemma they’re facing than murdering a black woman? I mean....Namor is several hundreds of years old and apparently an experienced and good ruler. It’s pretty clear Riri didn’t even know what was going on and would never have willingly put Wakanda at risk (which makes it likely she wouldn’t have wanted to put Talocan and its’ people at risk either). Also, if Riri could invent something like this, sooner or later some other scientist will pop up who can do the same, because people who are gifted like that are rare...but by no means a one-time-only-in-all-of-human-existence. So no matter HOW she’s taken out of the picture, that’s only delaying the problem, not solving it. And FFS!!! If he wanted to keep her out of reach of western ambitions, keeping her in Talocan (if he didn’t trust Wakanda enough) would have been perfectly sufficient, no murder needed. Then there’s the bit about firing Okoye. WTF??? First of all, Shuri’s an adult and a princess responsible for her people, fully capable of making executive decisions on her own and EVERYBODY was aware that this was a risky mission beforehand. Hell, it wasn’t the first time Shuri did risky stuff in her life either. So yeah, punishing Okoye for not being all-powerful and not being able to pull an unrealistic Deus Ex Machina move to save Shuri, and especially considering that it is up to Shuri to decide for herself which risks and actions to take? Doesn’t make one lick of sense. It makes even LESS sense, considering that from all the people present, Okoye is the most qualified where it comes to getting Shuri back. And EVEN LESS SENSE that Ramonda’s anger comes from “having lost ALL of her family” when at the end of the movie, we learn that she has a grandson AND that she’s met him. Doesn’t he count at all for her? Btw, fridging characters in order to motivate others to grow and take action they wouldn’t have otherwise? A really tired old trope that robbed Ramonda of her dignity and power. Never mind that we already lost T’Challa in this movie and adding Ramonda on top of that was just adding insult to the injury. Then there’s this bit about “oh, I had the Kimoyo beads bugged” from Valentina Allegra de Fontaine? Please. Since when is western tech and knowledge even remotely on par with the tech of Wakanda / with the tech Shuri built? All within the few couple of minutes it took Ross to get to the scene to boot too. Without any kind of explanation on how the fuck they pulled this highly unrealistic feat off, this bit totally undermined the competence Shuri and Wakanda’s tech are supposed to have and it seems like an utterly unnecessary “ha ha, see, ultimately white people are better than you” gotcha moment.

Also, Namor is supposed to put his people first...but in the end, after sending a LOT of his people to die in the fight against Wakanda, he decides to just call everything off, after stressing how absolutely and utterly NON-negotiable murdering Riri was, just because Shuri decided to spare his life. Yeah, that’s hypocrisy of the highest order. Nevermind that somebody who witnessed / is well aware of the violence of white colonizers against BIPOC women and who is obviously still angry and upset about it, should NOT be willing to murder a black woman that easily and without second thought, let alone without a DAMN good reason and only after much, much soul-searching. Also, what did it get him in the end?

NOTHING HE COULDN’T HAVE EASILY HAD WITHOUT GETTING TONS OF PEOPLE KILLED ON BOTH SIDES. Riri is still alive and free (and not even been kept safe and out of reach in Wakanda, like Shuri suggested at first, but returning to her life in the US, where she will be at a higher risk of being abducted / forcibly conscripted by other powers). (Side-note: is it just me, or did her suit seem very shoddily animated when compared to Tony’s?) And Wakanda is now an ally? HELL, considering how isolated they were becoming on an international stage, they’d have probably been perfectly delighted to consider an alliance well before he started this whole shit-show. Overall, the plot of this movie makes NO sense and violates a lot of the characters’ integrity six ways to sunday, having them act like immature, stupid teenagers instead of the experienced, competent people they’re supposed to be. Somebody (or a lot of somebodies) took lazy shortcuts here in order to drive a plot forward that was all focused on a maximum of flash and bang and Celebrity Big Brother style drama instead of telling a meaningful, consistent story. Among the few bright lights here were Okoye, with Danai Gurira pulling off a small miracle to give the character dignity and depth despite the godawful script, Shuri, whose struggle with the grief over her brother’s death and with trying to find a path forward for herself really hit home hard, as well as Riri, who was fun to watch as she rejoiced in the tech she had created, but who was also willing to take on responsibility and do the right thing. And finally Nakia, whose heartbreak was still palpable and yet it was incredibly admirable and inspiring how she worked through that, nevermind how she was absolutely badass as she came to rescue Shuri and Riri, as well as M’Baku, with Winston Duke adding either a light-hearted or a serious note to the scene as needed. Sadly, overall, it’s not a movie I’m going to watch again and it was a huge disappointment.

#Wakanda Forever #Black Panther #T'Challa #Wakanda #Okoye #Shuri #Namor #Ramonda #M'Baku #Riri Williams #Ironheart

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mystical-flute · 1 year ago

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Touch: Swanfire Week Day 3

Also on AO3

Prompt: Love Languages

Summary: As they learn to trust each other, Emma and Neal begin doing small things that the other appreciates.

It started the first time Emma had fallen asleep in the Bug. Neal had stayed awake, keeping an eye out for any cops or other thieves that might want to hurt them. He’d thought he’d drawn the short stick, having to stay up late with only his thoughts for company was not his idea of a good time, but then he’d noticed small movements from Emma that had given him pause. Years on the run from people out to hurt him had made him tuned to motions like that being more than they appeared.

At first, they’d been relatively easy to write off as just Emma shifting in her sleep, but then the movements became more than just twists, they became jerks, and her face had twisted into one of discomfort - whether or not it was physical pain or a bad dream he didn’t know, and he didn’t care, as his hand reached out to rest on her shoulder, trying to tell her silently that it was okay, that he was there, and that she was - relatively speaking - safe.

She had stilled a that, her breath evening out as she fell into a calmer sleep, and he smiled weakly, glad he could be of some help in calming her down.

If they were really going to be stuck together, they needed to learn to take care of each other.

Though part of him couldn’t help but wonder what she’d gone through that made her have such violent jerking motions.

As his eyes turned back to the night sky above him, he let out a small sigh. Perhaps one day, she would feel comfortable telling him.

---

Emma wasn’t sure when Neal had started noticing her nervous jerks when she had bad dreams, but honestly, she didn’t care. It was a level of comfort that Emma had never felt in her life, but feeling Neal’s hand on her as a reminder of what they had, and how they trusted each other (which she wasn’t sure when that happened either, but it was good for both their sakes to trust each other).

So, she’d started returning the favor. Whenever she had enough spare change, she’d show up to their meeting spots with a little extra food, a bagel or a donut that was close to going stale that bakeries were more than happy to get rid of for a good discount. It felt like she had to pay him back for the comfort he brought her, and he loved baked goods (bready confections always seemed to give him a sense of childlike wonder she would expect from a kid watching fireworks for the first time), so why not?

It was pretty late when she got back to the bug, parked safe and sound in an abandoned parking lot behind a closed-down business, a bag of nearly-stale bagels in her hand, and she noticed Neal asleep in the passenger seat of the Bug.

Carefully, she opened and shut the door, keeping as quiet as she could, and he didn’t stir. He must not have gotten a lot of sleep the night before if he was able to sleep through her opening and closing the annoyingly squeaky door.

She sat in silence, sipping at her hot chocolate and chewing a bear claw, when she saw him twitch out of the corner of her eye. She brushed it off, at first, thinking he was just stretching out in his sleep to get comfortable, but then she saw his face, twisted into fear.

“Neal?” she murmured. When the only answer she got was a fearful sound, she set her bear claw on the dashboard, safely on a napkin, and reached over again. “Neal, wake up, it’s me, it’s Emma!”

Finally, he jerked awake, staring up at her with wide, brown eyes. “Emma? Shit - sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

She shook her head. “No, I just got back… are you okay?”

He nodded and swept his hair back. In the dim light above the car, she could see a few beads of sweat on his forehead. “Fine. Just a bad dream.”

“You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

Emma nodded in understanding and pushed her bag of goodies toward him. “Hungry?”

Neal reached in, grabbing a blueberry bagel out of the bag. “Thanks.”

“I got a couple water bottles too. Figured we could use some new ones.”

He nodded, slowly chewing his bagel with one hand, the other resting against the armrest.

Emma let out a small sigh and rested her hand against his, a comfortable silence settling between the two.

#swanfire week 2023 #sfweek2023 #swanfire #emma swan #neal cassidy #ouat #fanfiction

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lemonjoonah · 4 years ago

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The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?” You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.” The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry. “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head. “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose? “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside. Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a warm and earthy scent envelopes you. His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel. Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid. “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin. “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod. A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth. He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts. And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom. A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

#jungkook smut #hybrid jungkook #bts hybrid au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts the garden thief #bts smut #jungkook x reader

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toonblabbers · 4 years ago

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Balls to the Walls Random Headcanons

A/N: Just trying to flex and expand my writing with other characters: Ace Edition - Ushijima, Iwaizumi, Aran, Hoshiumi, Asahi, Yamamoto and Sakusa!

I didn’t write about my big sexy himbo Bokuto because my blog is like almost 90% him

This contains some mentions to smut so hey: minors DNI! Thanks!

Ushijima:

Service top with a dash of Dom. Got a big cock but he doesn’t know what to do with it so please help him out.

Had one (1) partner before you and they told him he can be too rough so now he’s the literal definition of Gentle Giant. Again tell him what to do and how you like it

He on the other hand…Well he’s got a hard body from years of strength and endurance training. He has very specific spots where he’s super sensitive, but he’s easily embarrassed about them

One spot is right behind his earlobe. Sit in his lap, pinch his ear and gently rub it between your fingers. The sight of Ushi’s eyes fluttering closed as his breathing picks up is truly a sight to behold

Another spot is his wrist; stare him in the eyes and kiss his wrist before a match to have his knees quake a little and shorts feel a little tighter

Actually loves to discover new kinks with you. He finds it more romantic than having a quiet dinner with you in an expensive restaurant

Can be a big ole needy baby during the off season of volleyball. Tugging on your shirt when you leave the bed, follows you into the bathroom, stands behind you in the kitchen or when you’re doing laundry. He’s not vocal with his words but more with his body

Don’t tease him though; it’s still a very new feeling for him to express

Iwaizumi

Hates fighting with you but loves to pull you close and soothe you with a hot kiss

Has big Dom Daddy energy, but there are a few ways to make him start to crumble under you touch

If you use any piece of clothing to pull him in closer to you like his collar, his tie when he wears one, or his belt. Lean in like your gonna kiss him, stare at his lips then his eyes and then just walk away like nothing happened. You bet your sweet ass he’s gonna follow you to get that kiss

Another way that he refuses to admit he likes: play with his nipples. He’s got some fairly big and dark nipples compared to his friends and they get hard easily. Brush your fingers over them when you lean in to kiss and he’s got diamonds poking through his polo shirt

One way that he will admit is ass play. Now he’s not ready to full on take a cock in his ass, but things like your fingers, anal beads, or a vibrator? Makes him practically cum on the spot

Loves it when you get rough on him. Not like in a “I’m gonna slap you” kind of way but in the “grab him by the hair and demand he fucks you properly when he’s taking it too slow” kind of way

His cock pulsing hard inside of you and his eyes dilating is a dead giveaway of how much he loves it

Aran

Admittedly, he doesn’t have a monster dong (sorry not sorry, not all fucking black guys have a big cock so stop fetishing it thanks – from a black woman) but it does have a nice curve to it

He’s a disgusting romantic so full on he will bust out the candles, the rose petals, and the silk robe waiting on the bed for you. He saw it in a movie once as a kid and wanted to try it ever since

He so cute though because since he is a big romantic, he’s always cooking you breakfast and singing a little song in the morning for you. He even does a little dance while carrying the tray off food just to see you smile in the morning

He’s also such a soft Dom dude. Admittedly a little scared to try an bottom for you but man does he make you feel loved when he’s in between your legs

Loves to hold your hands or hold you close when he cums. Wants you to feel how his whole body shudders because of how good you make him feel

Big ole cuddle bug so it’s best to have some towels and water bottles by the bed cause neither of you are moving unless he says so

He’s a man a of quality and not quantity, so yeah you guys only go one round of sex cause he’s bone tired after he cums. That doesn’t mean he can’t make you cum multiple times though

Hoshiumi

A short King. We stan (I’m 5’9 so he’s short to me)

He is a meeeeessy boi dude like if ya’ll in a hurry to fuck, he’ll quickly slobber all over you and use as much spit as he needs to slide home. Loves how tight you are, but he’s careful enough to make sure it doesn’t hurt you…..too much

Loves. To. Fuck. You. Both. Dumb.

Did you just cum? Well he’s not stopping until he cums. Did he just cum? Well he’s not stopping until you cum. Wants to keep it equal

Please sit on his face. He loves it. And if you play with his balls like rolling them in your hands and squeezing them? He’s whining and panting while eating you out like a mad man

He adores it when you play with his hair when you’re cuddling. Just don’t be surprised if he starts humping against you. It just feels so good

He’s very competitive so god help you if you’re with his friends and they start talking about their sex stories.

If there’s a friend there (Hinata) that talks about the kind of kinks they do with their partner and it’s something you guys haven’t tried before? Guess what’s on the list tonight

Asahi

God just hold him. He needs it. Another one that's is a great service top for someone who loves to lead from the bottom (me @ me)

Not the biggest set in the world but he's got passion so sex is almost always soft and sweet

He's still hot in his own ways like the way his deep grunts start to turn into softest and sweetest moans

Or the way he stares at you; eyes swirling between lust and loves with tears threatening to spill

Please don't be mean to him unless he asks. It's evident that he holds a lot of insecurities and he's trying his best for you. Love and dote on him because his aftercare is top tier

Even if you guys don't do anything special or crazy. Just some straight vanilla sex, he always makes sure that you're comfortable before you go to bed

Also he helps you establish a nightly routine with him so what's not to love about that?

Yamamoto

SIMP ALERT. Be ready for one of the LOUDEST simps out there.

I'm talking a bigger simp than all the setters for Hinata or all the captains for Daichi

You can fit so much passion and respecting people juice into this boy right here

I don't see him being a wild boy but if you're into it then so is he. Want him to spank you? He's gonna ask how hard baby.

However if you want to do something that he seems a bit hesitant on, he’s gonna try to be overconfident with everything. Make sure you talk to him and make sure you have a solid agreement with with him. Communication is key with him!

He's a little sloppy and lazy with his aftercare but you know what, it's always fun with him

I don't know much about him but he gives off that vibe of a man that runs on pure fiery passion and motivation. Like if he’s feeling like loving on you tonight? Be ready to not do a damn thing cause youre gonna be his precious pillow gem (idk if there's a gn term for ‘pillow princess’)

Sakusa

Ooof. Where do I begin with this beautiful man. Pretty body with a pretty cock to match for starts

He’s sexy man but he has these cute little moles all over his body. He personally doesn’t like them but please kiss each one even the one on his butt. He may not voice it but he loves it so much

He will gladly do the same for you; kissing you every part of your body that you may not like about yourself.

Doesn’t have a high sex drive, but when he’s in the mood, damn you better clear your plans. He believes in both quantity AND quality so you will be thoroughly fucked out when he’s done with you

I see him as the kind of dom that goes for the kind of pleasure that benefits you both. Not a selfish lover but also not an absolute giver like the others

Yeah there are nights where he wants to treat you but others nights he’s gonna make you work for it

Tagging: @hiddenbluee, @kou-taro, @justcoffeewithoutcaffeine

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader

Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else

Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?

Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?

A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.

On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.

He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.

Jungkook had made it.

Well, not quite.

Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.

"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.

And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.

"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.

"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.

"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.

Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.

You were so tiny next to him.

He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.

You were so cute.

You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.

"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.

"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.

If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.

You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.

"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.

"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.

"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.

"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.

"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.

Jungkook really pays attention.

"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.

"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.

"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.

Not the time Y/N, not the time.

"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.

"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.

You don't know what to say.

He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.

When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.

He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.

"Good girl."

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.

"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.

"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-

"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.

"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"

"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.

And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.

It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.

Things are different between you two in general.

After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.

And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.

It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.

"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.

"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.

"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.

"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.

"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.

"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.

Almost.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.

"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.

"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.

"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.

He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.

"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.

"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.

"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.

It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.

You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.

He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.

"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.

"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.

He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.

Jungkook is frustrated.

He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.

And not just hugging and holding hands.

It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.

As far as he knows, he had done everything right.

But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.

'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.

'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.

'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.

But its your answer that makes him fume.

'Good to know.'

"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.

"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.

"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.

"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.

'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'

"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.

"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.

In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.

"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.

"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.

"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.

"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.

Thank god you're staying the night.

"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.

"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.

He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.

Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.

He's anything but.

He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.

There's no urgency in anything he does.

He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.

"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.

"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.

"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.

What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.

Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.

"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.

"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.

Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.

"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.

"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.

"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.

"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.

"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.

"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.

"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.

"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.

"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.

Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.

"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."

And he can't help but grin at you.

You really are the sweetest thing.

You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.

"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.

"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.

"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.

"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.

Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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missblissy · 3 years ago

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thanks for responding to my request, I love it !! .... although if you could in the future, would you write a second part? (only if you agree to do so) again, thank you very much for taking the time to write my request. have a good weekend.

👋👋

((Of course my friend! Sorry this took forever :'D I am. Slow. Thank you for sending this in! I am.... Also 95% certain this is for the Satan's Daughter!Reader request--- AND IM SO SORRY IF I ISN'T But-- I saw your little emoji and figured it was you ;w; I had a lot of fun with it tho! I hope you enjoy!!))

Your time spent visiting the hotel wouldn't be the same if it wasn't for Alastor. There was something about the peculiar nature of your relationship with him. He wasn't a friend, nor a foe... But he was someone that liked to butt heads with you. It was competitive, and there was a lot of tension. You could only guess it was because Alastor was in the presence of someone far superior to him. He could handle Charlie, she wasn't a threat at all. You though? Oh, you were a massive threat.

Alastor didn't like being in the company of any demon that could squash him like a bug. You noticed he liked to keep the company of harmless lower-level demons. You made him not only feel inferior but like he had a big red target on his back. It always played out like this anytime the two of you were in the same room; he'd make a bold statement about something he did in the past. Then you'd roll your eyes and tell him about the angels you killed just a few weeks ago, and reminded him he was out of his game.

At one point you sorely put him in his place. Alastor got a little too cocky and pushed one too many buttons. You had incredible powers over others. Being the daughter of Satan came with many benefits, such as the power to literally silence people whenever you felt like it. You gave a little wave of your hand and suddenly Alastor's lips were forced shut. He couldn't speak or make a sound. He stood there with a panicked smile and a slight fear in his eyes.

"Turn around," You'd say. Alastor had no choice but to listen. Your powers made it able for you to control any creatures within hell, like a hive mind. They could not disobey, and they were forced to do whatever you commanded. Alastor turned around and then you said, "Walk out the door. And leave." And like a mindless drone, he did exactly what you said. He even closed the door on the way out.

After that day... It was beyond clear that Alastor was no match for you. In fact, it made him realize you could do this to anyone. Even someone like Vox... Or Lucifer himself. This power of yours could control not only mortal demons but hell-born demons as well. You didn't see Alastor for about two weeks after you did that to him. He had simple up and vanished.

You didn't mind though. You hung around with Charlie, you got to know her new girlfriend. You somewhat made friends with Husk, he learned how to make your favorite drink since it was the only one you'd ask for. Angel got along with you too, he'd often laugh hysterically at any time you out-bested Alastor.

When Alastor came back he looked a little... Different. He looked tired, drained, and completely out of it. "I think you broke him," Angel whispered towards you as you both watched Alastor walk sluggishly through the lobby. Even his smile was slipping dangerously close to falling into a frown.

"I think he's learned his place." You said back to Angel. You pushed off the bar chair and then gave a little grin to the spider, "Watch this." You walked towards Alastor and laughed slightly when he nearly jumped three feet away from you.

"It's good to see you again, Alastor. Where did you run off too?" It was just a harmless question but Alastor still seemed uneasy by it. He gave a stiff chuckle and masked any emotions from before, "I went to visit my mothe-!" He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. That was not what he meant to say! He going to lie- Then he realized... He couldn't lie to you. His eyes widened as he watched the grin on your lips curl into something a little more sinister. "That's very sweet of you," You said while making sure to note Angel's giggles in the background, "Come on, Alastor. Smile!" Under your influence, he put his hand down and his smile grew to its normal size. "Welcome back to the hotel~" You said as you walked past him. You made sure to give him a little smirk as you narrowed your gaze slightly, "I can't wait to visit again soon."

The threat in your voice made a nervous bead of sweat form at Alastor's brow. You gave him a little smile followed by a wink. Even when you made it to the doors you made sure to blow him a little kiss. You truly couldn't wait for your next visit. A shame you were going to have to convince your father to leave his sight again... You didn't know how well that would go. But oh well! You knew you'd have to come back, whether he'd let you or not.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #satans daughter!reader #f!reader #ask #anon #nonny #answered #alastor / you #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor imagine #head canons

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sarah-bae-maas · 3 years ago

Text

Gwyn wants to explore, and Azriel needs a friend - a Gwynriel fic - Part 1

In honour of this blog turning five years old, I thought I would treat you all to a two part/chapter Gwynriel fic that has been wandering around in my brain throughout countless days of lockdown and tortuous university classes.

I’m already well underway with part 2 of this fic, but I do have some assignments coming up, so expect it within the fortnight!

So please do enjoy this nearly 15k words worth of Gwynriel goodness <3

Masterlist Ao3

_____________

She was staring at him.

Again.

Azriel had always paid special attention to Gwyn – not that he would tell her that, of course. It was a secret held deep in his shadows that she was his favourite Valkyrie, the one he thought the most brave and resilient. It would not be an unpopular opinion if he did share it, the other women looked at her with great admiration, and Nesta often sung her praises when the female wasn’t there to refute her words. But Azriel knew the presumptions people might make if they knew he thought it, and the last thing he wanted was for a misunderstanding to make Gwyn uncomfortable.

Gwyn was holding a bag for Emerie to kick, her stance strong enough that she didn’t flinch at all with each pummel. Her focus should have been on Emerie’s form, but rather her teal eyes were glued to him. Every time Azriel looked over at her, she quickly shifted her gaze to her friend, but his shadows constantly reminded him that Gwyn was once again paying her attention to him.

Cassian called the end of the session. Azriel was grateful, he was finding it harder and harder to train the women effectively when he knew Gwyn was right there.

He practically fled the scene, his cheeks brushed with red, barely nodding to the women who said their thanks to him as he passed. It’s not that he didn’t like her attention, but it made his stomach feel heavy, his hands shake, and he didn’t like how out of control he felt whenever she looked at him like that.

He settled in the dining room. Standing, he braced his hands on the table, a bead of sweat dripping off his forehead and tarnishing the wood. Nesta wouldn’t like if he got his sweat all over the table, even though her and Cassian had coated it in far more scandalous bodily fluids. He should do something productive, like work or eat or pester Rhys and Feyre to have Nyx for the afternoon, but instead he chose to close his eyes and picture the person who’d been haunting him.

He and Gwyn were friends. She was over nearly every night to eat with Nesta, their dinners a sort of lively Azriel hadn’t experienced since he’d lived in Illyria with Rhys and Cas. It was joyful to live in a space filled with such light, but also overwhelming. Azriel found that as much as he loved the time with the rag-tag team they’d made for themselves, his social timer still clicked in his mind as a constant reminder that sometimes dealing with people, even the ones you loved, could be utterly exhausting.

Not with Gwyn though, his shadows lamented, setting him straight. No, Azriel never felt tired with her.

“Az?”

As though his thoughts alone had summoned her, Gwyn’s voice startled him out of his reverie. He turned, his lips parting slightly at the sight of her.

She was still in her training gear – a shirt and pants lovingly stitched by Emerie with embroidered flowers decorating the seams – her neat braid falling around her face, framing her pearlescent skin in fire.

“Gwyneth. Do you need something?”

Her eyes were wide, her hands clasped in front of her as she wrung her fingers. It made Azriel tilt his head in confusion, not understanding why she was so nervous. They spoke every day, she mouthed off at him often, and her shift in confidence had him surprised.

“I have a proposition for you, but you must promise to not tell a soul.”

Azriel raised a brow, leaning back into the table. He spread his hands before him. “I’m listening.”

Gwyn swallowed, her cheeks turning the same shade of red as her hair.

“Imsturbalt,” she squeaked.

“What?”

“I masturbate a lot!” She smacked her hands over her mouth, as if betrayed at the words they spilled.

Azriel’s jaw went slack, his eyes near bugging from his skull. “Okay… that’s good? Self-exploration!” He half-heartedly waved a celebratory fist in the air, not sure what to say to her statement.

She groaned louder than a stabbing victim. “I was thinking that, I didn’t intend to say it aloud.” She rubbed her hands over her face, peeking at him through her fingers. “Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secrets are safer with me than they are anyone else.” Azriel smiled, trying to diffuse the obvious tension in her body. “So, your proposition?”

She tensed her jaw, moving her arms behind and looking at the ground as she spoke. “I guess my previous statement that will never be mentioned again to anyone if you like having the functional use of your organsperhaps wasn’t entirely irrelevant to what I’m going to ask you. But I beg, please let me finish before you say anything, and also don’t feel pressured to say yes.”

“Okay.”

“Silence.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She grinned at him, her eyes finally meeting his again. “As you know, better than anyone really, I have a difficult past.”

Azriel wished he could burn the images of finding her on that table from his mind. He’d had to actively teach himself not to envision her crying and screaming for her sister when she’d first became a permanent fixture in House of Wind. He’s seen many horrific things in his time, was no stranger to the worst humanity had to offer, but it was different when it was someone so vulnerable, so selfless, so important to him. It might have made him a bad person that he didn’t equate people’s trauma accordingly, but how could he possibly care for a stranger as much as he cared for Gwyn?

“What happened to me made me fear my body. Fear the sexuality I see women like Nesta and Mor own. They’re so powerful, and the things that have happened to them… They’re not broken. They’re not less. They’re not afraid.” She paused, sighing deeply. “I would never look upon anyone in the library as lesser than because of the things that have happened to them. It wasn’t until I met Nesta and Emerie that I realised I didn’t give myself the same grace. I want to own the parts of me that were stolen. I want to feel like my body belongs to me. I didn’t even know where to begin, but then the House gave me this book, some fluffy romance novel, and the girl in it was just like me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just felt so seen. Like the Mother herself had handed this smut piece into my lap to make me feel better.”

Gwyn moved to one of the lounge chairs that Cassian had haphazardly shoved into a corner one night when Nesta didn’t feel like moving from the dining room. Gwyn was effortlessly graceful as she sat and curled her legs up, her head resting on her fist.

“That’s where the masturbating comes in.” Her eyes avoided his again, focusing on patterns her fingers drew in the velvet material of the chair. “The girl in the book did it. She’d never had an orgasm either. So, I did too.” She laughed quietly. “It made me feel good. Not just the physical pleasure part, but the part where it was just me, empowering myself at a pace I was comfortable with.”

Azriel wished he could say something, but one, he knew to be silent and let her have this moment, and two, he didn’t know how to tell someone he was proud of them for touching themselves without it sounding weird. He was proud though, extremely so, at how strong she felt from acting on her wants. Her resilience had always astounded him.

“In the book, the girl meets this man.” Her voice lowered, barely more than a whisper. “He treats her so kindly, in a way that I’ve seen Cassian treat Nesta a million times, in a way I yearn to be treated. I’ve given myself a clean slate. This body, my body, has only been touched by me. I am whole. I was never broken, just healing. And I’m at a stage where I want more. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Azriel wished her could say yes, please the eager note in her voice that hoped he was on the same page as her, but even his shadows were silent to her desires.

She glanced at him just long enough to see him shake his head. She tipped her head back. “When Nesta first started sleeping with Cassian, I was so curious. What were they doing? What was he doing to make her look so satisfied? But when I tried to picture it, my stomach would churn. And then time passed. I grew stronger. I became a Valkyrie. And like many others before me and many more in the centuries to come, I walked in on Cassian and Nesta fucking.”

Azriel inhaled sharply. To hear the vulgarity fucking from a mouth so pure sent a bolt through him, and he chided himself for his inappropriate thoughts during such a serious conversation.

“They don’t know I saw, not that I think they would have minded. I would bet good money that if I asked for a demonstration on pleasurable acts Cassian and Nesta would be more than happy to comply. Where I might have once felt sick from seeing them, instead I felt-”

She cut herself off, looking for the right words.

“I felt burning desire. I’ve never been so envious of someone in my life. I didn’t want to have sex with Cassian, but by the Cauldron I wanted to feel the way that Nesta did. I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t know you were such a good secret keeper. Or such a good friend.”

Azriel couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Gwyn, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to have sex with me.”

***

Azriel stared at his ceiling, his shadows dancing and rolling around him.

I want you to have sex with me.

He tested the words on his own lips. They tasted sweet. They also brought an uncomfortable amount of pressure to his cock. He refused to touch it though and kept both his hands firmly behind his head.

He’d told Gwyn he needed to think about it, and she understood. She said she didn’t expect an answer from him straight away.

Azriel had a lot to consider.

He was practically titillated that when Gwyn had decided she wanted to explore herself with a male, it was him who she thought of. She expressed that it was because she knew he’d care for her, that he’d respect her and because of how much she trusted him. There were not words to express how hearing such things felt to him. It made him want to do this for her, because his soul be damned he knew he would do right by her. Make her feel good, feel special, feel appreciated.

It would be amiss though not to acknowledge that if he did do this, let her warm his bed while he tasted her, it could ruin not just the friendship they had established but also the dynamic of the house. She had assured him that if his answer was no, they would continue their lives as if the conversation never happened.

Which brought a darker thought to his mind.

If not Azriel, then who? She would surely approach someone else. Someone not deserving of her, who might not treat her how she deserved to be treated. That was not to say Azriel thought that in all his bastardly ways he was what Gwyn should have – no, she deserved more than he could ever give – but at least he knew that she would be safe with him.

The thought of another male’s hands on her made him see red.

That was answer enough.

***

Nesta and Cassian were gone for the weekend, caring for Nyx while Feyre and Rhys had a romantic getaway for the weekend. Azriel secretly thought Nesta was using this as a trial to see if her and Cassian were ready for a baby.

It was the perfect opportunity to have Gwyn join him.

The day after she’d approached him, he’d slipped her a note after training to say that he was all in, and to meet him the next night. He tried not to watch her face as she read the note but couldn’t help it. She went bright pink, but she seemed exhilarated.

And now she was standing in his room.

They nervously looked at each other. Azriel wanted to give her the chance to speak first other than their obligatory greetings, but she was tongue-tied.

“I was thinking we should take this in steps,” Azriel said, sitting on the edge of his bed, watching her refrain from pacing back and forth.

“That seems logical. What sort of steps?”

“I was thinking tonight we take sex off the table.”

“What?” Her face fell, hurt evident in her expression.

“Just for tonight. Gwyn, have you had your first kiss?”

She shook her head no.

“Then maybe we do that. And anything beyond only what you want. I need you to know that you’re in control here. Whatever we do or don’t do is completely your decision.”

She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. “That sounds reasonable. Like you’re my little puppet.” Her hands mimed using a marionette, and Azriel found it easy to reciprocate her smile.

She moved to his side, planting herself on the bed next to him. He couldn’t help but notice the how good she smelled, how carefully her hair had been arranged and how she’d worn her nicest dress. She had wanted to look good for him, and the thought made his heart squeeze.

He reached out and held the hands she clasped in her lap. It made her look at him, her teal eyes flashing in the room only lit by his fireplace.

“You’re a very good friend, Azriel.”

“Do you want me to kiss you, Gwyn?”

She nodded, turning her body to face him.

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, then her lips, before he settled on cradling her face. She leant her head into his hand, so trusting as she looked at him. His hand was so big that the fingers that lay on her neck could feel her hammering pulse.

She leant in the same time he did.

At first it was just a peck. Their lips brushing against each other’s so gently it made Azriel ache. He pressed his lips to her again, and again, getting her used to the feeling of his lips on hers. She enthusiastically reciprocated, her slender fingers running up his chest before meeting behind his head, tangling themselves in his hair. He smiled against her mouth, pleased at such a reaction when the real kissing had yet to even start.

His grazed his tongue along her lip, and she eagerly opened her mouth, letting his tongue slip inside her. The noise she made at the contact buzzed straight through him, and he was pleasantly surprised when Gwyn, in all her eagerness, took control of him.

She kissed him as though she had done it her whole life, like her mouth belonged on his, and the feel of her delicate tongue made him deepen their kiss, angling her head so they could better feel one another. She was practically leaning back, and if this had been a meaningless one night stand she’d have been on her back by now with Azriel’s mouth between her thighs.

She broke away from him, his mouth instinctively following hers as it wanted more, making her gleam in pride.

“I want to change positions,” she said, her hands still wired into his hair.

“Anything you want,” he replied breathlessly.

Azriel didn’t know what to expect, but it was not her getting up and crawling into his lap. She straddled his thighs, and there was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his erection pressing against her. He did with his hands what any male would do in this situation, and her giggle was enough to know that she’d wanted him to do that.

“Your hands are on my ass,” she laughed.

“Is that okay?”

“Very much so.” She took a deep breath. “Take your shirt off. Please.”

He obliged.

“And you should – you should take off my dress too.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have a slip on underneath.”

His hands shook slightly as they ran up her sides and to her back, undoing each button on her dress. To give her a more authentic experience, he decided to lean in as he did, kissing a new spot on her neck with each button that came undone.

She raised her arms so that he could slip the dress over her head, and he averted his eyes when her slip rode up with it. He didn’t look back until she had adjusted herself. When he did, he nearly fainted.

She was divine in her beauty. He always saw lovely she was, anyone with eyes would. Her body was lean and tight. Her uniform may have hidden it, but she had the power of any warrior in her body. Azriel wondered if she purposefully hid her strength so that it was a secret part of her arsenal. Smart female.

He ran his hands up her spread legs before planting them back on her ass. Unable to resist, he squeezed his hands, making her groan.

“Your hands feel so good,” she gasped. “Do everyone’s hands feel like that, or is it just you?”

He snickered. “Anyone who is worth their weight knows how to make a female feel good.” He bumped her shoulder with his nose. “What would you like me to do now? Do you want to keep kissing?”

“Fuck yes I want to keep kissing.” She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest as she playfully nipped at his bottom lip. “But maybe we could do other things. Even better things.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Gwyn reached behind her and grabbed one of the hands resting on her behind. For the first time since they’d started, she looked nervous. Her legs were shaking, and Azriel was unsure if it was anxiety or anticipation for whatever she had planned.

She guided his hand under his slip until he was cupping her sex.

“You aren’t.” He swallowed hard. “You aren’t wearing underwear.”

She shook her head playfully. “I didn’t think I would need to.”

She pressed his hand into her, and he moaned at the wetness he found. She was so slick for him already, and all they had done was kiss. He did an exploratory brush through her folds, and as at the tip of his finger grazed over her clit, she arched into him, holding on tight to his shoulders.

He started teasing her, obsessed with the little noises she was making at the back of her throat as he did, but he soon realised something.

Usually, when Azriel was with a female, they got progressively more… turned on. Their bodies would react to his touch, and his fingers would be coated in their juices before he even attempted to enter them with either his fingers or his cock.

Gwyn was not.

It seemed the more he touched her, the more it was like her body didn’t want this. For all intents and purposes, she was… drying up?

His hand went still, and he could feel her body instinctively relaxing as his hand left her pussy.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, clinging to him.

“You don’t enjoy this.” He made her look him in the eye, and his throat tightened at how she looked. There were tears lining her eyes and a deep furrow on her forehead.

“I do, I promise I do. I’m just nervous. If we – if we just overcome this one thing-”

“No, Gwyn.”

“Please Azriel,” she said desperately, trying to guide his hand back between her thighs.

As gently as he could, he lifted her from his lap and placed her beside him on the bed. Her breath shuddered, and he couldn’t bear the shattered look on her face.

She didn’t say a word, just stood up and tried to locate her dress. Azriel didn’t even know where he had thrown it, but he stood and stopped her from looking anyway.

“Gwyn…” He grasped her hands in his, towering over her as they faced each other. “I want to do this for you, please believe me when I say that. But maybe we just need to take a few more steps first. Do something else before that.”

“What else is there?” She was dejected, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what I’m doing Az. And I swear on the Cauldron I want this. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I’m just so nervous, and I get in my head about everything I do-”

“Hey hey hey, stop that.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the ropable tension in her body started to ease out. She slumped against him, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace. “This is fine. Great, even.”

“You are such a liar.” She sighed, but at least she returned his embrace, tucking herself into him so they were as close as possible.

He tried to think of ways to salvage the night for her, to give her at least a little bit of what she wanted.

An idea sprang to mind.

“Gwyn?”

“Mmm?”

“Get on the bed. Lie down.”

She looked up at him hopefully. She didn’t need to be told twice. She practically flung herself at the bed, laying down on her back and resting her arms above her head. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the way she clenched her thighs together than spread them apart like a silent invitation.

Azriel couldn’t help but brighten at her enthusiasm. He undid the buttons on his pants and kicked them down so he was naked before her.

“I thought we weren’t having sex!” She jolted to her side, holding herself up on her arms and staring at his penis, her eyes practically bulging out of her head at the sight of it.

There were many things Azriel did not like about himself. But he had a damn fine cock.

He laughed at the look on her face and shook his head. “We’re not having sex. I’m not even going to touch you.”

She deflated. “Really? Not even a little bit?”

He followed her to the bed, climbing over her without touching her and planting himself next to her so they were lying side to side. He turned his head to her, and she looked at him curiously.

“We’re not just going to lie here naked, are we? It’s a bit cold for that.”

It was a little chilly. Her nipples were hard under her slip, which had ridden up to her stomach.

“No, but we can get under the blanket if you want.”

Her gaze raked up and down his body. “I’m happy above the blanket.”

They laid in a comfortable silence for a moment, happily taking in each other’s bodies. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen, and he was glad to see that their kissing antics had left her dishevelled. He liked that look on her.

“Are you actually not going to touch me?”

“I’m not. I think you should touch yourself.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll touch myself, too. It’ll be a way for us to be more comfortable with each other. For you to be in control of your pleasure.”

“Will you watch me?” she murmured.

“If that’s okay. You can watch me, too.”

She considered his words, and Azriel wondered if this was in fact not the good idea he’d thought he’d had. She pursed her lips, and he knew her answer when she grabbed the hem of her slip and pulled it off, leaving her naked before him.

They stared into each other’s eyes as her hand brushed over her exposed breasts, and Azriel had to hold himself back from taking them in his mouth, from pinching her perked nipples with his teeth. Maybe later, that could come; he thought she would quite like it.

Her right hand kneaded her breast and tweaked her nipple while her left dipped down between her legs. Two fingers ran over her core, and he studied the way she massaged herself so that he could do it to her in the future. At the sight, he tentatively grasped his cock, wanting to make sure that she was truly okay with him touching himself at the vision of her with her fingers dipping inside her, moistening herself before focusing on her clit.

Her eyes flickered to his stroking hand, and her response nearly made him finish then and there like a teenager exploring themselves for the first time. She’d seen him, and lifted her leg so that it was draped over one of his, giving her a better angle on her clit and twining them together.

“I’m used to being quiet,” she shuddered. “So that no one hears me.”

“Be as loud as you want. Scream for me.”

Her hand quickened, and his sack tightened as he matched her speed with his own hand, gripping himself tightly. He moaned so loudly that he was once again thankful that Cassian and Nesta weren’t in the house. Even the magic of the walls mightn’t contain the pleasure pulsing through him as he watched her.

Her legs started to shake, and the little noises she’d made before were no more. Her voice was loud as she no longer held herself back from feeling even ounce of her impending orgasm.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, her hips starting to gyrate against her hand.

“You. All I can think of is you,” Azriel moaned. He pumped himself quicker, his grip becoming harder.

“What about you,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you thinking about what you saw Cassian do to Nesta?”

Her toes curled at his words. “I’m thinking of what I saw them doing, but it’s you and me.”

“What are we doing, Gwyneth?”

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her tongue licked her lips before she bit down on them. “We’re in the library. You have me bent over one of the desks, and you’re taking me from behind. One of your arms is around me, and you’re flicking my clit as I scream your name. You’re so deep in me, Azriel, I can feel every inch of you as I clench around you. Cauldron, you feel so good. The best thing I’ve ever felt, Az.”

His breath hitched, and he felt himself on the brink of coming. What finally did him in was her teeth biting down on his shoulder as she screamed his name, her orgasm making her whole body shake as it overcame over.

When they had both come down from their highs, they laid trying to catch their breath, both their bodies covered in sweat.

“That was amazing,” she sighed, turning to face him.

He grabbed a corner of the unused blanket beneath them to wipe himself off, then turned to face her, an arm going around her waist and his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead and cheek.

He wanted to look at her body, finally relaxed and languid, but his shadows had another idea. They bathed over her like silk, dancing over her curves and crevices, making her laugh.

“I quite like them,” she said, her eyes starting to drift closed.

“Are you tired?”

“Mhmm.” She snuggled into him further, stealing his warmth. His cock responded to her touch, but it was too soon yet to do anything meaningful.

“Move up for a sec.”

“Is that you trying to hint that I should go?” Her voice was joking, but the look on her face said that she’d go if he wanted her too.

“Absolutely not, you’re staying here with me. I’m just grabbing the blanket.”

She moved away just long enough for him to pull the blankets over them and pull her to his chest again.

She made a content noise and closed her eyes to sleep, and Az thought to himself that he didn’t care if this one day ended their friendship, because it might very well be the best time of his life anyway.

***

The next two weeks were filled with them sneaking away and feverishly touching themselves in all sorts of ways. Once, Gwyn sat in his lap naked while they stroked themselves, kissing each other the entire time. Another time, she pleasured herself by grinding against his thigh and he palmed himself – they hadn’t even bothered to take their clothes off. A late-night training session had led to her using a particularly shaped massage tool on herself in very a scandalous way while he watched, near feral at the sight of her pumping into herself. He did not return that item to the training ring, instead he kept it in his bedside drawer for future use.

It wasn’t until sixteen days and countless orgasms into their agreement that Azriel was finally able to touch her.

It had been a busy night. Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Mor and Emerie were over for dinner, and it had been the most fun Az had had in a group since last solstice. At the table, he’d had Feyre on one side and Gwyn on the other, and her little secret touches to his thigh made him feel warm all over.

It wasn’t necessarily an arousing touch, just an affectionate one. When the group had started to disperse to drink, Nesta the sober adult taking care of Nyx, Az noticed Gwyn sneak away. He promptly followed her, making sure everyone was distracted as he did so no one noticed what they were doing.

Within a few minutes he was between her thighs tasting her. She had mentioned the night before that she wanted his tongue on her, and by the Cauldron was he happy to oblige. She was sitting on the edge of desk in the library that she’d described to him all those weeks ago, and whilst on his knees before her, he jerked himself off as she crumbled beneath his mouth.

Thankfully, by the time they returned, people were far too tipsy to question where they’d been.

Except for Nesta, who looked suspiciously between the two of them. Whatever she was thinking, it was at Gwyn’s behest if she knew anything. It was her decision, always, what happened between them, and if she wanted people to know about their sneakiness, that was for her to decide.

Seven days later is when she first touched him. Until that point it had all been about her, which is what Azriel wanted. They were on his bed, his fingers deep inside her as they kissed, when her hand brushed against his cock. He moved his hips aside, and she broke their kiss off with a noise of indignation.

“Stop swatting my hands away!” She flicked his nose with her finger.

“Huh?” He was still dazed on the sound of his hand gliding through her dripping wet core.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” Her voice was curt.

“I just want this to be about you. I don’t want you to think that I’m only with you for my own sexual gratification. The only thing that matters to me is your happiness, my soul purpose is you. You’re my priority.” He kissed her neck. “My desires are your desires.” Another kiss. “I can’t focus if you’re anything less than panting and satisfied.”

She pursed her lips, a familiar expression at this point. It turned into a joyful smile, and she smacked a kiss to his lips. “That was actually very sweet. After I get you off, I’m going to sit on your face.”

What was even better than the heavy petting and intense make out sessions was the talking. Sometimes for hours they would just tangle themselves together and divulge their life stories. Azriel knew all about her sister and mother – Gwyn confessing that she felt guilt when her twin wasn’t on the forefront of her mind, but sometimes she pushed her away because the memory of her was overwhelmingly devastating. Az wiped her tears away, desperate to see her smile again. But he also knew of all the good times she’d had growing up, and it made him feel alight inside to know how loved she was. Az told her mostly of Rhys and Cassian and the family they had made for themselves, about how it was so hard to be away from his mother, but he wouldn’t have survived another day in his father’s presence. Gwyn cried for him sometimes, and Azriel had never known such empathy from another.

When they were alone in the House, Nesta and Cassian off on one of their sexcations, Gwyn would spend her evenings and nights with him just as a friend, doing housework and menial tasks that she didn’t have to while humming various tunes. Az would tell her to stop working, but she would just grin and say she liked feeling like part of a home too much to not pretend that she lived there too. So he would just hum with her, his shadows dancing and swaying the way they always inevitably did around her. Then they would fall into bed together (or any surface really) until they were spent and exhausted.

Azriel had never known happiness like this.

***

Azriel was buzzing with excitement. He’d left Gwyn wrapped up in his bed, the sun not yet risen, and made sure to leave her some breakfast on his nightstand and the fire burning to keep her warm without his body next to hers. Usually he would wake her up early with his head between her thighs so she could go back to the library, but she had already told the acolytes she roomed with that she would be staying with Nesta, so no need to sneak around when no one was expecting her.

Before they’d gone to sleep the night before, Gwyn said something to him that left him smiling even now as he made his way to Rhys.

I want to have sex, Az. I’m sure. I know I’m safe with you.

Az didn’t know why Rhys needed him, but if it involved leaving Velaris, he would barter for a few more days so that he might be with Gwyn before he left. An odd feeling entered his chest at the thought. He couldn’t name the feeling; he just knew he didn’t want to leave Gwyn alone.

He landed on the doorstep of Feyre and Rhys’ home. Before he had the chance to let himself in, Feyre opened the door, a grave look on her face.

“Quick. Before they start yelling.” Feyre pinched her nose, the other hand holding Nyx on her hip.

Azriel pushed past her, and it wasn’t hard to find the source of Feyre’s frustration.

“Once again you fucking asshole, you need to back off. How dare you-”

“Nes, calm down-”

“Tell me to calm down again Cassian and I’m out of here. As I was saying, how fucking dare you accuse her of such things, Rhysand, High Lord of Shitting me up the Wall.”

“Nesta, for fuck’s sake you’re getting defensive for no reason!”

“No reason?!” she spat, Cassian holding her back before she lunged at Rhys.

“Too late,” Feyre muttered at him as she walked into the office, sitting at the desk to remain neutral in Nesta and Rhysand’s pissing match. Azriel would love to know what had riled them up so much that they were nearly screaming at each other, but any guidance from his brothers was not there.

“You have to admit that it’s suspicious, Nesta!”

Rhys threw his arm at Azriel as he approached, looking triumphant. “Azriel will agree with me.”

“He will not.”

“May I ask what I might need to agree to, or will it remain a mystery as to why you’re yelling so early in the morning?” Az crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for them to stop acting like children.

“Rhys accused Gwyn of being a spy,” Nesta growled.

“You’re twisting my words! I said I’d had reports of her acting strange, of her behaviour being completely different, and I suggested that it was worth looking into. We have to consider the safety of Velaris, and Gwyn would be the perfect plant.”

Azriel was sure Rhys was going to say more, but he was interrupted by Azriel’s uncontrollable fit of laughter. His laughs shook his whole body, and he felt tears in his eyes from how hard his fit was hitting him. He had to bend over to try and catch his breath, clutching at his chest as though his lungs might leap out of it.

“What’s so funny,” Rhys deadpanned.

Azriel shook his head and walked to Nesta, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Are you serious, Rhys? Gwyn? Gwyenth Berdara?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Both Clotho and Merrill have approached me. Clotho, because she was worried, and Merrill, because she thought that Gwyn was being insubordinate. Clotho has had multiple girls come to her in fear for Gwyn, saying she’s been disappearing at night and coming back early in the morning. They she’s tired, unfocused, and that she’s exceeding every expectation they had for her in training and acting like a different person in the library. This has all been reported over the last month.” Rhys picked Nyx out of Feyre’s arms to calm himself before continuing. “Gwyn knows incredibly sensitive information about us. She helped us with the Trove, she treats the House of Wind like she bloody lives there. She’s awfully comfortable for a person who previous to knowing us refused to leave the library.”

Any humour Azriel felt had been leeched from his body. Nesta’s verbal beating of Rhys had been justified and then some.

“With all due respect, you can go fuck yourself,” he bit at his brother.

Feyre made a noise in the back of her throat and took Nyx back from Rhys before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

Too much swearing for such little ears! she said into their minds as she was leaving.

“What the fuck, Az?” Rhys looked startled.

“I knew he’d side with me,” Nesta said smugly.

“She’s ‘awfully comfortable?’ Yeah, she is, because she found a fucking family. Nesta is like a sister to her, and she’s over at the House a lot not because she’s entitled, but because we want her there. You might not make that much of an effort with Nesta’s friends because of your own personal shit, but Cassian and I consider her a close friend. Accusing her of anything unbecoming, to me, is as bad as if you’d dragged me in here to tell me Cassian was working against us. You sound ludicrous. Also, need I remind you, it’s not your fucking House anymore. Who we have over is none of your damned business.”

Rhys scoffed. “It’s not your House either.”

“Sorry, High Lord Rhysand, I’ll manage my expectations.” Az clenched his jaw at Rhys’ words. He was right. Azriel didn’t technically have any property, neither had Cassian until Rhys had given Nesta the House as a mating gift. Azriel didn’t technically have a home beyond the sky, nothing worth giving to or sharing with another person. Even now, Gwyn was waiting for him in a bedroom that technically wasn’t is. He wouldn’t dare leave though, not when he knew it was one of only two places that Gwyn felt safe in.

“Why are you getting so defensive? You know what I’m saying is reasonable.”

“It would be if we didn’t know her. She is… there are not words to describe her.”

“Yes, there is,” Nesta piqued. “She is competitive. She is feisty. She’s a Valkyrie. She is the kindest soul in Velaris. She is so brave, and strong, and the most selflessly loving person I’ve met in my entire life. If you weren’t so thick headed, you would see that she’s like Feyre in a lot of ways.” Nesta paused. She left Azriel’s side to stand in front of Rhys, her shoulders back and her head high. “If you accuse her of something it would break her heart. I won’t let you hurt her.”

“I would never hurt her, Nesta.” Rhys rubbed a hand over his face. “If you’re so convinced that nothing is going on, can you explain her strange behaviour.”

Nesta turned away from Rhys, so that he couldn’t see her face. When Nesta looked over at Azriel, she didn’t need to say a single word for him to know that she knew the exact reason Gwyn was acting different.

It was because of him.

“I don’t need to explain it because I trust her. I’m also with her nearly every minute of every day. Do you not think I would not notice if she was conniving against us? Or are you truly that foolish?”

“I agree with Nesta,” Cassian said. “She’s either with us training the Valkyries, or she’s working with Nesta in the library. Who cares if she’s a little distracted, we all are sometimes.”

“And you’re sure of this?” Rhys directed his question at Azriel, almost as if he couldn’t trust Cassian and Nesta to be impartial because of how close they were to Gwyn. Huh. If only he knew.

“I have never been surer of anything.”

***

“Azriel, wait.”

Azriel was stalking through the front gardens. He would walk until his head was clear, then he would go home – go to the House of Wind – and spend the morning with Gwyn. Nesta had other plans.

“What is it?”

“Gwyn-”

“-will be safe. I won’t let Rhys near her.”

“I’m not worried about that. What is going on between you two?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not blind. All the things Rhys described? Sure, might be espionage, but it might also just be someone falling in love.”

“We’re not together.” Love? What a preposterous thought. Gwyn had been very clear from the beginning in what she wanted from him. She needed someone to fulfil her physical needs, and Azriel was happy to do so. All the other stuff, the talking and friendship, was just icing.

“Then what are you doing? Setting yourselves up to get hurt?”

“This is a conversation you should have with her.”

“She trusts you so much, Az. Please, don’t do anything that would hurt her. She’s come so far since we met.”

“Nesta, I promise you I couldn’t dream of hurting her. The thought alone makes me feel visceral pain. What we do, what we are, is just her making decisions and doing what she wants. How did you even know there was something going on?”

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I guessed she had a flirtation with someone. I knew it was you from the way she started saying your name.”

Azriel felt his eyes burn, but he did not know why. “The way she says my name?”

“I’ve heard the way she says it a million times. From Cassian and I. From Rhys and Feyre. I can’t describe it beyond that.”

Azriel shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted where he stood. “Have you told Cas?”

“I don’t need to, he knows.”

“So you guys have talked about it?”

“No. I haven’t told him that I know. But I know he knows. And he also knows I know.”

“So he knows you know even though you haven’t told him you know and you know he knows even though he hasn’t said he knows?”

“Exactly,” she laughed. Her smile was more genuine now. It was a look she’d only had since her mating ceremony. It sung contentment, something she, like him, struggled to have.

She came to him and linked their arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Her friendship was invaluable to him, as much as it was a surprise when it first started to form.

“I have one other thing to say, and then I’ll let you go home to Gwyn.”

“Yes, Nesta?”

“The House of Wind is as much as your home as it is mine. You can stay there forever if you want. It is your home, Azriel, and I wouldn’t dream of it being anything else.”

***

Gwyn was awake when Azriel returned home. She was humming a song to herself in bed, wrapped in his blankets like it was a cocoon. She had the breakfast he made for her in her lap, and when he entered the room, she pulled the blanket aside and opened her arms for him to fall into to.

Maybe he still looked stormy after his talk with Rhys, or maybe she just wanted to hold him. Either way, he fell happily into her embrace.

***

Gwyn had set a date. She did not intend to be so clinical about it, she just wanted to give herself a chance to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and she needed a few days to do so.

The month she’d had with Azriel had been… Cauldron, she did not know how to exactly describe it. When she had approached him, she honestly did not think that he would say yes to such a ridiculous idea. But he had, and he’d given her nothing short of the best month of her life. Her cheeks ached from how much she was smiling, and even if she was tired when she worked, she wouldn’t give up her restless nights for anything.

It would also be remiss for her to not acknowledge that perhaps what she had with him was more than an arranged bargain, but any time the thoughts propped up she promptly put them to the side.

She had not gone to see Az last night, needing the time to do extra work so that she could be missed for a day. Or two. Maybe even three.

Gwyn didn’t know how long this marathon might last, but if it were anything like Nesta and Cassian’s, it could be a while.

She had also warned Clotho and the females she shared her room with that she would be staying at the House of Wind for a few days. When asked why, she just said she was doing something with Emerie without going into any detail.

So, tonight it was. She was ready.

She was so fucking ready.

The moment dinner was served in the library she made a run for it, having to physically restrain herself from skipping out of the library. She was so excited, her body literally vibrating with energy, that she didn’t even see Nesta before their bodies slammed together.

They went to a ground in a tangled fumble, and Nesta was too busy laughing to listen to Gwyn’s repeated apologies. The brisk evening air greeted them, the stars starting to peek through the violet dusk as they laid on the path that took them from the library to the training area to the House.

“Well, you made looking for you much easier,” Nesta said, brushing off her dress as she stood. She offered Gwyn a hand, which she gladly took. Nesta started walking towards the House, their hands not dropping as they swung them between them like children.

“Why were you looking for me?”

“Emerie is here with Mor and Feyre. I wanted you to join us for dinner.”

“I have dinner with you every night.”

“I know, but I wanted you to know that you’re not just welcome but also invited.”

Gwyn smiled at Nesta, love for her friend filling her heart.

They approached the House, Nesta’s face falling as they walked in and saw Rhys standing in the middle of the room, confused looks on the faces of Mor and Emerie as everyone just looked uncomfortable.

Nesta’s hands squeezed Gwyn’s, and for just a second it felt like Nesta was about to pull Gwyn right back to the library.

“I’m not sure what the problem is,” Mor said slowly. “We go out in Velaris all the time, why can’t we tonight?”

“You’re more than welcome to, I would just rather stay here,” Azriel replied.

Gwyn knew the look on his face. It was the same look he’d had a few days ago when he’d returned from Mother knows where after Rhys summoned him. Gwyn assumed Azriel had just had to do one of the many hard tasks expected of a spymaster, but perhaps there was something else if his face was a mirror of that again now.

“What’s going on?” asked Nesta.

They all turned to look at them like they were surprised to see them. Not even Azriel had noticed their entrance, although Gwyn self-admitted that Azriel tended to be surprised by her sudden appearances quite often. She didn’t know for sure, but she thought maybe his shadows didn’t bother warning him when she was near. It’s not like she was a danger to the guy.

“Rhys came and said we should try the new restaurant on the Rainbow! The one near Feyre’s studio? I’ve heard really nice things about it, and the family that opened it are really beautiful.” Mor beamed at them all, trying to disperse the odd tension. “And then maybe we could go dancing.”

The idea sounded wonderful, and Gwyn wistfully wished she could join them. In reality, just the thought of going into the city set her heard racing. The only time she had ever left the library or the House, other than to go to Emerie’s house which landed them in the Bloodrite, was to officiate Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. Although the memory was one of her most treasured ones, it was not something she thought she would be able to do again. Not yet.

“I’ve heard great things about that place,” Nesta replied, her stomach audibly grumbling at just hearing about the exquisite food it might receive.

“You are all more than welcome to go.” Azriel swept a hand out between them. “But I don’t want to.”

His gaze flickered to Gwyn, and suddenly the eyes of everyone were on her.

A blanket of understanding washed over the room. Most eyes were understanding, Mor’s held the pity that Gwyn hated, and Rhys looked indifferent, if not satisfied.

Azriel’s resistance became evident. It wasn’t just that it was the night, their night, but he didn’t want her to be left alone whilst everyone else galivanted through the city having the time of their lives when they knew she wouldn’t be able to join them.

“I don’t want to go either. It’s been a long week and I’m tired,” said Nesta.

Gwyn narrowed her eyes at her lying sister but couldn’t hold it in her heart to be angry. In face, she had to stop it from swelling with how loving their words felt. They didn’t want her to be alone. They wanted to stay with her.

“You know,” spoke Emerie softly, “I can’t imagine anywhere making food as well as the House.”

Mor’s eyes shot to Emerie, and Gwyn wondered if she was imagining the slight betrayed look in them.

“Guy’s, c’mon. Rhys and I made a reservation, they’re expecting us! It would be rude not to go,” Mor pleaded.

Azriel opened his mouth to snap back, but Gwyn interrupted. “She’s right. You should go enjoy yourselves.”

“But Gwyn-”

“It’s okay, Nesta. Please, I really think you should all go.” She made a point to look at Azriel. “It sounds like it would be a lot of fun.”

“It’s not fair to arrange activities that we can’t all participate in.” Azriel’s voice had softened as he looked at her, and if she didn’t have better self-control she would stride over and plant a kiss on his pouting lips.

“How could Mor have known that Gwyn would be here? It’s not her fault,” Rhys interjected.

“That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard-”

“Stop, just stop.” Gwyn clutched her hands in front of her and stepped away from Nesta. She needed them to see her as an adult, as someone who was strong and to be taken seriously. “It’s fine. Really, truly. I have a lot to do anyway.” She turned to Feyre and waved her fingers at Nyx. “If you would like, I can take care of him so you can enjoy some grown-up time.”

For a second Feyre looked hopeful, but then she schooled her face into neutrality. Rhys stepped between the two, and Feyre had to put an arm on his shoulder.

As if to stop him stepping any further.

Gywn blinked, feeling like she should blanch away but not sure as to why.

“That won’t be necessary,” Rhys said. She’d heard him use that voice before. It was his political voice. His I-have-an-agenda voice. Now it was her turn to look confused.

“No worries,” Gwyn whispered.

She looked away from the High Lord’s searing gaze and back to her friends. She hoped her face didn’t speak of her sadness.

“Please go. I would feel awful if any of you stayed on my part. If anything, by going and having a great time you’d be doing me a favour, because I wouldn’t feel guilty.”

“You could always just come with us,” Mor said, tucking her hair behind her ears in a way that was comically similar to how the ‘popular’ girls in her smutty books would behave.

Gwyn bit her lip, thinking about it. Of course, logically, she would be safe. They would all be there, Azriel would be there, but she genuinely felt like she might vomit at the thought. A bead of sweat dripped down her back, and she despised how her eyes stung with tears. She breathed the way her and Nesta had learnt from Valkyrie texts and pulled herself back to reality. Sometimes the logic of actions did not dictate how you would feel, or react, to a situation. Gwyn reminded herself once more to be kinder to herself.

“Thank you for the offer, Mor, but I am happy here.” Gwyn smiled brightly at them all, and they seemed to relax – all but Az and her sisters.

She shooed them out of the House, hoping that one day she would be able to join them.

***

It was odd. Gwyn had spent much time over the last few years alone, but it had never affected her. And although the House was quite good company – it had dinner and dessert ready for her with a box of tissues and chocolates even before Cassian had finally flown off with the resistant Nesta – it wasn’t the same as spending time with someone who could talk back to you.

She only just made it through her meal when she crawled into Azriel’s bed, hoping the scent of him would make her feel better.

It didn’t, but the sight of his room did. There were unlit candles lining the room, and flowers adorning every surface. The cheeky male had even installed a mirror on the ceiling above the bed, and she blushed profusely at the implications.

He had tried to make it romantic, and she adored him for it.

She had no idea when he would be back, and she scolded herself for wishing it would be sooner rather than later. She wanted him to be out and about with his family, even if it made her burn with envy that everyone would be able to enjoy him but her.

She rolled over, stuffing her face into his pillow and groaning. She should take off her day clothes and resign herself to pyjamas. Maybe she should sleep in a different bedroom so as to not torture herself with what this night could have been.

Her night with Az. The night with Az.

“That’s it. I am so over this,” she said aloud before springing up. She stomped out of the room and towards Nesta’s, flinging her closet open to inspect her clothes.

It was just a restaurant. It was safe. She would be fine. Besides, how could she overcome her fears if not to face them? She had gone to Emerie’s and survived. She had gone to Nesta’s mating ceremony and survived. She had won the bloody Bloodrite!

As she looked through the dresses, she quickly realised they wouldn’t fit. They would hang loose at her hips and chest, where Nesta was beautifully endowed and she was not.

“Not to worry, I’ll just take a coat then.” Taking the first one she saw, light but soft enough that warmth wouldn’t be an issue, Gwyn shoved her shoes on approached the door that led to the ten thousand steps that would take her to Velaris. She didn’t know where to go from there, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she would be able to find her friends with enough willpower. And since meeting Nesta and Emerie, since being empowered by the strongest females she knew and since empowering herself, she knew she had that willpower in abundance.

“Let’s fucking do this.”

***

She didn’t know at what point the House had left her, its omnipresence not connected to the stairs, but she was doing just fine even if she felt its absence. She counted in her head to keep track of where she was.

One thousand. Feeling good. Coat in arms.

Two thousand. Out of breath but in a good way.

Three thousand. Fucking shit.

Four thousand. Maybe she should turn around.

Five thousand.

Six thousand. How has Nesta done this multiple times?

Seven thousand. She had this! This was easier than Ramiel!

Eight thousand. If she died here no one would find her.

Nine thousand.

Ten. Fucking. Thousand.

Gwyn realised that there was no way she’d be able to eat with them. They would be having dessert if they hadn’t already moved on. She just needed to find them.

As Gwyn took the last step, her toes touched the streets of Velaris for the very first time.

It was so beautiful she thought she might cry. There was colour everywhere, the laughter of adults and children alike, and she could smell delicious food as the many restaurant’s wide-open doors let the scents pour into the streets. The faelights lining the streets reminded her of the stars she often gazed at with Azriel, the thought of him like a caress to her mind.

Azriel loved Velaris, would die for this city if he had to. How could she been afraid of something he loved so much?

She took one step. Then one more. She was sure to anyone that glanced her way she must have looked like a lunatic, her eyes wide in wonder as she moved at a snail’s pace, Nesta’s coat bundled in her arms because after all those steps she didn’t need it.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, equal parts fear and excitement, as she walked through the city. She got a few odd looks, but she could see it was out of curiosity for a newcomer in a city that had been locked down for centuries, and not for violence. She wasn’t leered at or bothered. In fact, the only time someone even talked to her was when a toddler sprinted from his mother’s side, his legs too quick for his body to keep up, and he fell into her.

The mother apologised profusely but Gwyn didn’t care at all. How could she be mad at the pudgy little baby?

It was easy to find her way to a district clearly dedicated to all things food. If possible, she slowed down even more. She peeked inside every restaurant looking for the four sets of wings that would set her friends apart from everyone else.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of searching but was probably closer to forty minutes, she saw them.

Azriel and Rhys were standing outside the restaurant Mor must’ve been talking about. Light and music drifted from its open windows, the streets still full of roaming people. Gwyn knew they wouldn’t be able to see her yet, and she wondered how she should approach them.

Azriel… did not look happy, and the tense set of Rhys’ shoulders and back let her know that his face likely looked the same, even if he was facing away from her.

Before she could think of a strategy, Azriel looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

Gwyn could not describe the feeling that filled her as they drunk in one another. Still standing twenty steps from him, his gaze made her feel like she was wrapped in his arms.

She raised one hand in a wave, and it was like Rhys didn’t exist at all.

Azriel shoved him to the side, Rhys making an indignant sound as he did. He ran to her, and she dropped Nesta’s coat so she could wrap her arms around him as they crashed together. People in the streets backed off at Azriel’s display, and in that moment she couldn’t have cared less about where she was, as long as she was with him.

His wings wrapped around her, creating a shield between them and the outside world.

“Gwyn.”

“Hey Az,” she whispered, her arms around his neck and his face tucked to her shoulder.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He straightened and brushed the hair from her face. It had stuck to her skin from how much she had sweat while taking the stairs, but she didn’t care how she looked. She knew he certainly never would.

He looked ready to fight an invisible threat, and it made her throb in unspeakable places.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just – I. Um.” She hadn’t rehearsed what she would say to him, but it’s not like she could blurt out Hey! Just wanted to near you at all times and rub my body against yours!

“Did something happen? What do you need me to do?”

She shook her head. “No, no, Az, really, I’m fine. I just regretted not coming out with you all.”

He must have been able to see the honesty on her face and smile, because he relaxed, his wings folding back.

The look on his face was adorable as the realisation dawned on him that she was here for him.

“Did I miss everything? Are you all done?”

He didn’t answer, but he did look behind him. Rhys was standing there with his mouth open, his face laced with something Gwyn couldn’t put a name to. Before she could greet him, Rhys stormed back into the restaurant.

Azriel turned back to her, and he didn’t hesitate when he lifted her chin and kissed her.

She gasped but reciprocated zealously. She pushed her body into his, and his arms went around her as he lifted her off her feet, cradling him to her as he kissed her like she was the wind that let him embrace the skies. He tasted like air, like gold, like this was his final breath and he was he was sharing it with just her.

***

Azriel sat with Gwyn while the rest of their friends danced. She hid it well, but he could tell that she was nervous being in this new environment.

She had been so good, so brave when she went into the restaurant and greeted Azriel’s family. Nesta and Emerie jumped up when they saw her, and Nesta held her tightly while Emerie rushed to get another chair. Nesta was trying to be subtle, but Azriel saw the happy tears she shed as she held Gwyn. Emerie then insisted that Gwyn sit and eat her strawberry and mango cheesecake with her, which earned an inexplicable scowl from Mor. Interesting.

Once Gwyn was satisfied and protesting the consumption of more food, they all walked together to one of the classier bars Nesta used to frequent so they could go dancing. Everyone was light as a feather, except Rhys, but life was hard as a fucking asshole, so Az wasn’t surprised he was feeling surly.

And now here they were. Azriel and Gwyn seated with the others dancing to their hearts content. Mor was spinning around with a giggling Nyx, Feyre and Rhys were swaying but it was obvious they were speaking to each other through their daemati bond, and Emerie and Nesta were terrorising Cassian in a three-way dance.

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked, his shadows silent to her moods. If it had been anyone else, he would have known she was coming to the restaurant before she’d even left the House. But his shadows didn’t like to spy on her and revelled in him being surprised by her.

“I feel good.” Her gaze was focused on the dance floor, and Azriel glanced over to see what was so entrancing.

Nesta and Cassian were finally dancing alone, Emerie now with Nyx and Mor. The way Cassian and Nesta were grinding on each other was nothing short of pornographic as they moved into the shadows of the dance floor. Nesta’s back was to Cassian, his hands clasped on her hips as his lips were on her neck as she pushed her ass back against him.

Azriel snorted. They’d be fucking in an alley within the next fifteen minutes.

“Do you want to dance like that, Gwyneth?”

She turned to him, a lovely flush spreading from her face to her chest. “No,” she said unconvincingly. She slid her chair closer to his, the bar stool so high she had to hop onto it to sit. It was frightfully cute, and Azriel had to restrain from kissing her again.

He couldn’t help it in the street. The sight of her – rumpled, breathless, her face alight with joy – was too much for him.

She was beginning to be too much for him.

The longer he was with her, the more of her he was allowed to have, the more he feared he could never go back to just a simple friendship. This female would either be his salvation or his ruination, either of which he would happily accept if it meant he could savour every minute he had left with her.

Under the table, she linked their hands, and Azriel thought he might very well die from the touch.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to enjoy our plans.” He rubbed his thumb against her finger.

She smiled his way, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “It’s okay.” She looked down, biting her lip. “I went to your room. I saw what you had done.”

He swallowed hard. “Did you like it?”

She removed her hand from his and placed it on his thigh. “I loved it.”

He shifted in his seat, glad that the tablecloth was long enough so that anyone around, if they looked, would only see their ankles. “You’re playing with fire right now,” he chucked under his breath as she continued to stroke his thigh.

“I especially liked the mirror on the ceiling. May I ask, what purpose does it serve?” Her smile may have been all innocent, but the way her hand was moving was anything but.

She leant against him so they were touching shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.

“It was for your pleasure.”

“Is that right?”

He brushed his lips to her ear, grateful that the dim lights of the bar kept them in the shadows and that the dancing bodies kept their scents hidden. And over the live music, no one would hear them. “Mhm. It was so that, no matter what position I put you in, you could watch me.”

She tipped her head back, humming in acknowledgement. Her hand, already in dangerous territory, swept down his increasingly hard length.

He grunted, laying both his hands on the table and fisting the cloth.

“Is this okay?” she asked, breathless.

He nodded, taking a swig of his drink to distract him.

She brushed her hand down again, bolder this time, and he squirmed in his chair.

“I would take it out, but I fear it would be seen over the table. So inside it stays,” she sighed. “It must be hard being so large.” She put her lips to his ear, mimicking what he had done to her. “I do love it though. The size, the taste, I think about it constantly.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he choked out. “But at least I’d die happy.”

Her hand slipped inside his pants, and he couldn’t help but thrust up into her hand. He tilted his head back in pleasure as she worked him, getting the angles just right as she pumped him. He was unbelievably aroused by the public act, barely able to believe that she’d do something so audacious. But Cauldron have mercy, he would do anything if it meant she was touching him. She could ask to ride him right now in the middle of this bar and he would blissfully indulge.

“I’m going to finish soon,” he warned her.

“I can’t wait for you to finish in me.”

Her words were his undoing, and he felt the edge of the table splinter under his grip as he contained his moan of pleasure.

He stared at her as she pulled her hand from him, offering him a serviette to clean himself like she hadn’t just given him a mind-blowing orgasm where anyone could have seen.

“Az?” she asked after a few, content minutes of silence.

“Yes, Gwyneth?”

“Do you think we could go dance?”

***

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she had been this relentlessly happy. Azriel flew her and Emerie back to the House of Wind, the latter looking forlorn as they finally left the bar in the small hours of the morning.

Rhys and Feyre had left much earlier, Nyx too small to stay up that late, and if Gwyn was being honest she was surprised they lasted as long as they did. Feyre seemed fine, but Rhys was in a shocking mood. Every time she asked Azriel about it, he just muttered about Rhys being a jerk without elaborating. She could tell that whatever it was, it was sensitive, so she didn’t push him.

Her and Nesta put a very intoxicated Emerie to bed, stripping her and putting her into some pyjamas before tucking her in nice and tight with some herbs on her nightstand that would help her head in the morning. Azriel and Cassian had already gone to their respective bedrooms, and Gwyn contemplated how she was going to sneak into Azriel’s room when Nesta stopped her.

“Can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.”

Nesta led her to the library, and they plopped themselves onto one of the plush couches. Gwyn faced her as she sat, tucking her feet under Nesta’s thighs to keep them warm.

Two hot chocolates appeared to them on a table, a dish of marshmallows to the side. They whispered their thanks to the House, claiming the warm drinks. Gwyn pressed hers up against her face, liking the warmth on her skin.

“What do you want to talk about?” Gwyn asked, taking a sip.

“Azriel. You. You and Azriel.” Nesta patted her shin, and Gwyn put her drink down. This wasn’t a hot chocolate kind of conversation.

“I don’t know what you’re talk-”

“Do you love him, Gwyn? Because if you did, or even if you don’t, you don’t have to sneak around Cassian and I and pretend nothing is happening. You can live here, forever if you want. All four of us in the House.”

“Nesta-”

“Imagine if we both had our families and babies here. It’s a big place, we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. And maybe Emerie could come too and she could fall in love too and we’d all be so happy. Okay, I’m rambling and that was weird. What I’m trying to say is – is that you can Azriel are so obviously together and I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out why you’re keeping it a secret from us, not that I care that you have secrets you’re an adult and you don’t have to tell me everything, and I’m so fucking happy for you, Gwyn, and I want you to know that you can be publicly happy, if you want.”

“Nesta…”

“I just love this. You and him. I’ve never seen Azriel so happy and you just smile all the time. And, oh, it reminds me of Cassian. In the way that I can see ourselves reflected in you two, and I wonder if maybe if I hadn’t been so,” she gestured at her head, “you know, then I could have just been this happy from the start of us, with him, like you two. So I need you to know that if you want that, if you want him, I am so incredibly supportive and I will do anything you want if it means you get your happily ever after. Okay, I’m done.”

“Nesta.”

“And I also would just love to know how this all began. Like the secret little smiles and observations that I’ve had for as long as I’ve known you just changed one day. And I know you guys used to train alone sometimes and I know you were always here with him, and me and Cas but I can’t pinpoint when your friendship turned into this.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I really am done now.”

“Are you sure?” Gwyn pinched her cheek lovingly, and Nesta swatted it away.

“Yes.”

Gwyn took a second to think about her words, and as nice and idyllic as they sounded, Gwyn wasn’t sure they were the truth.

“Nesta, we aren’t together.”

“What?”

“We have a…” Gwyn struggled to find the words. “Deal? Agreement?”

“A sexy agreement?”

Gwyn laughed. “No. Well, yes actually.” She launched into the story of how her and Azriel had started their bargain, detailing how Azriel had agreed to help her overcome her fear, and how much they practised towards her ultimate goal of sex. Gwyn also expressed how their closeness was something she treasured, as spending so much time together naturally led to a deepening in their friendship. Her face stained pink as she told her of some of the things they had done, but how, after over a month together, that hadn’t actually sealed the deal.

Nesta was silent the entire story, letting Gwyn speak her truth. She was contemplative over Gwyn’s words, not saying anything until she was done speaking.

“Before I say anything, I want to let you know how incredibly proud of you I am, and how much I support wanting to explore yourself and your sexuality. No matter what I say, I need you to know that.”

Well, that wasn’t a good start.

“I understand, Nesta.”

“Gwyn, do you love him?”

Gwyn took a deep breath. It was a topic she often pushed from her mind, unable or not wanting to broach the subject. “I don’t know.”

“It’s a yes or no, Gwyn.”

Gwyn shrugged her shoulders. “What if it’s a ‘I’m not sure because I so thoroughly blurred the lines between what was real and what I asked him to do to help me?’ What if it’s a ‘I don’t know if I could say it to him but if he said it to me, I would say it back in an instant?’”

“Do you know how he feels about you? Has he said anything?”

Gwyn shook her head. “I know we’re friends. I know he cares about me. I know he would do anything I asked of him. I know he must love me, in some way, but I don’t know if it’s love-love or platonic love.”

“And he’s never given any sort of indication of his intentions?”

Gwyn pondered how thoughtful he was, how detail oriented he was to her pleasure and how he was the best part of her day. And as she thought about it, about him, who was so caring and lovable and agreeable, and she realised that a lot of what he did for her – the comfort, the talking, the support – he would do for anyone.

“I’ve never asked.” Her breath shuddered, and Nesta put a hand to her cheek.

“Maybe you should.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way as I do? What if I’m just an obligation?”

“Oh, my love.” Nesta repositioned them so that Gwyn was lying down, her head in Nesta’s lap, as Nesta lovingly stroked her hair. It reminded Gwyn so much of what Catrin used to do that she couldn’t help the tears that started to shed.

“It’s better to know what you are to him. If it’s any consolation, I think he cares about you a great deal. Maybe even loves you. It’s hard to tell when he’s naturally so cold.”

He wasn’t cold, she wanted to say, he was the warmest person she knew. Instead, she cried, and she let Nesta comfort her like she always did.

***

A few days passed, and although Gwyn never left the House, her sexual relations with Az didn’t progress. Rather, they stopped altogether. He didn’t mind at all, he was just glad for her company. They talked and trained, and Azriel was surprised that somehow he could be even more impressed of her than before.

She also started doing what he called her ‘casual kisses.’

They would be doing something monotonous, like sorting weapons for training the next day, and she could kiss him as she walked by him. Or they would be sitting in bed reading, and she would lean over and brush her lips to his temple.

It became a game, who could casually kiss the other first if the opportunity arose, and it was the best game Az had ever played.

He felt himself looking forward to the nights even if the only touching they did was cuddling until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Azriel wondered if this is what home felt like.

It was late, and Gwyn decided that she needed to return to the library before people started to question where she was. Az didn’t have the heart to tell her they already were.

“I had the most interesting conversation with Nesta the other day,” she said as they reached the door that would take her away.

“What about?”

Gwyn fiddled with her fingers, trepidation oozing from her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worry starting to maw at him.

“I’m fine.” She turned to face him, and he took the opportunity to kiss her on her hairline. He loved the height different between them, it made him feel bigger than he was. “Nesta asked me about us. She has suspected for a while.”

He schooled his face into neutrality. As far as Gwyn knew, this was new information to him.

He hadn’t told her a word of what had happened between them and Rhys, and it would stay that way. All it would do was hurt her, and Azriel was serious when he said no harm would ever come her way from him. She did not need to know that Rhys was acting like a tool.

In more ways than one. Azriel didn’t need to read minds to know that Rhys was highly suspicious of them both. And more so, as much as it pained him to admit, how much Rhys disapproved. He wasn’t sure why, and he couldn’t bear to ask, but he had a good idea. Rhys, as much as he loved Az, must know that he would never be good enough for Gwyn. The idea had plagued him for days, and the only thing that drove away the dark thoughts were the casual kisses Gwyn would bestow upon him.

“How do you feel about that?” he asked her, snapping back to their conversation.

She shrugged. “At first I was worried, but now I’m actually kind of relieved.”

“Why were you worried?”

“You know, it’s weird. I had it in my head that if people knew I was on this mission to achieve some ultimate, empowering orgasm that they might judge me. But Nesta never would, and I felt like an idiot as soon as she looked at me and told me she knew we were,” she gestured between them, “touching.”

Az snickered. “Touching is one way to sum it up.”

“She asked me something I couldn’t answer.”

“What was that?”

“She asked me what we are.” She brushed her hands over his chest absentmindedly. “What I am to you.”

He clasped her hands and held them to his heart, trying to make her look at him when she was purposefully focusing on the floor.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her the truth. That I don’t know what I am to you.”

“Gwyn…”

“I need to say something, and I beg you not to interrupt until I’m done.” She sniffled, and he hated the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away, facing him with steel. “I genuinely approached you with nothing but friendship in mind. I had a plan, to sleep with you once and then go back to how we always were before – me, as your overly competitive but absolute best student, and you as, as this God of a man that I could not believe even walked the same existence as me, let alone be someone I considered a friend. You were my ribbon Az. The thing I wanted to be as good as. And then you said yes to me. I didn’t expect you to. I half-thought you would laugh because you thought I was joking. But you didn’t, and you said yes, and I have made the grave mistake of developing feelings I swore to myself I wouldn’t.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she put a hand over his mouth before he could.

“I had every intention of having sex with you until Nesta asked me what I was to you. And then I realised that if all I was to you was a proposition to uphold, I couldn’t do it. I can’t be with you just once. I can’t be just friends if we take that last step. So, Az, I’m asking you, and please don’t feel obligated to say anything you don’t feel, but what am I to you?”

He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt like his ribs were being ripped apart and then shoved back together until his lungs were caged too tightly. He knew what he wanted to say, that of course she was more than that, she was everything, but then he thought of her spirit being crushed by his inadequacies, and how she could do so much better now that she was ready to. She was pure, she was light, and she deserved more than his darkness.

He had been quiet too long.

Watching her was like watching a porcelain doll shatter after being dropped. Her face crumbled, and she pulled her hands away from him as she tried to contain herself.

“You’re my best friend.” He finally said, his own tears stinging at his eyes. “I can’t lose you.” Which he would, if she stayed with him and realised how truly broken he was.

A sob fractured her chest, and Az hated the way her voice sounded when she spoke. “You’re my best friend, too.”

And then they were kissing. It tasted like salt from their tears and was more passionate and heart-wrenching than any of the kisses they’d had before. They were drowning, their only hope at salvation one another as they clung to each other with all the strength they had.

Azriel didn’t want to let her go. He knew once he did that it would be over. His month of bliss, of final contentment, would be over. Part of him wished Nesta had never opened her mouth, or that he’d been able to tell the truth, but all of him wished that he was someone else, or that he was more like his brothers, so that he was good enough for her.

When they finally stopped kissing, it was not so she could leave. They still clung to each other, breathing in each other’s scents, well into the night.

When she whispered goodbye, part of his soul left with her as she walked away.

He lied to her by staying silent. He should have told her the truth, that what he was feeling went deeper than affection, maybe even deeper than love. But this lie protected her, and he would take it to his grave.

#acosf #fanfic #gwynriel #azriel #nessian #feysand #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acowar #sjm #sarahjmaas #tog #koa #emorie #mor x emerie

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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years ago

Text

day 7: meeting on vacation

for the @fyeahjonandsansa 31 days of Jonsa event, day 7: meeting on vacation

read it on ao3 here

Sansa grumbles to herself and kicks at a bit of underbrush. No sticks there, she tells herself, then moves another few feet and does the same thing again.

She's not sure why she's here, to be honest. This is Robb and Arya's camping trip, not hers. Every year the two of them and their friends rent a cabin deep in the Wolfswood for two weeks of rough living. Though honestly, it could be worse, she decides. They could be in tents. At least the cabin has toilets and hot water.

Curse Harry. Curse her and her last minute decision to accept Arya's invitation – one that Sansa has gotten yearly since high school and always turned down. If only she hadn't run into Harry at that art gallery, with his new girlfriend, maybe she wouldn't have spiraled so far as to go camping.

And now she's supposed to collect sticks for the fire pit?

She kicks at another bit of leaves and finds a stick underneath and she bends down to pick it up. It's got mud on it and Sansa holds it by the cleaner end and tries not to think of the bacteria. This is why she never comes on these trips – she has no tolerance for mud and dirt and bugs. The bugs.

Arya always makes fun of her because Sansa, without fail, attracts mosquitoes like no one else. They could all be sitting outside for the same amount of time and Sansa comes away with a dozen bites and Arya and Robb have nothing. It's infuriating. And don't get her started on the massive spider she found in the shower stall the other night, when she screamed so loud Arya thought she was being murdered.

Also sort of infuriating are their friends. Actually, she likes Gendry, and she's known Theon all her life so at this point she's used to it, but the rest of them are loud and sort of annoying and Sansa doesn't really know most of them. It's only been a few days into their two week stay and she's miserable. And she knows Arya only gave her this collecting sticks job because she's useless at everything else. In fact, she's pretty sure they already have enough kindling back at the cabin.

She kicks at another pile of leaves.

Behind her, she hears something, the methodical pounding of feet against the ground. She assumes Arya has come to look for her.

“You lost?” a male voice says instead, and she turns around to find a stranger standing on the trail. He's clearly been jogging and he's pulling out his earbuds, breathing heavy, a fine sheen of sweat on his skin, soaking into his white t-shirt... She pulls her eyes up from his chest and back to his face.

“No?” is all she can think to say. “Are you?”

He looks taken aback for a moment, then amusement takes over. “You're on my property,” he says, gesturing around them.

“You own the forest?”

His mouth twitches like he's trying not to smile and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Not the whole thing, just this part. I'm guessing you're from one of the rentals?”

She nods, looking around for any familiar markings, but all she can see are just... trees. Trees and the trail, which she'd been idly following, lost in thought.

“You've wandered a bit,” he tells her.

“I'm supposed to collect sticks for the fire pit,” she tells him and when the words leave her mouth, they sound stupid in her ears.

“You haven't gotten very far,” he looks down at the one stick she has clutched in her hand.

“I'm not much of a camper.”

He laughs, one hand coming up to wipe a bead of sweat from his temple and she can't help that her eyes drop to his torso again – the way his t-shirt clings to him, the way the muscles in his arm move.

“You should probably start heading back soon, it gets dark quick around here and you've got a ways to walk. I'm guessing you're in Wyman's rental?” he looks back along the trail from the way she came.

“I don't know, Robb and Arya handle everything,” she shrugs, but a bit of worry starts to creep through her – she didn't realize she'd walked this far. She'd been so lost in thought, she hadn't really been paying attention.

“Stark?” Jon asks, voice tinged with mild surprise.

“You know them?”

“They've been coming around for years, I tend to run into them on the trails or at the lake when we're both out here at the same time. I went fishing with Robb last year.”

Sansa nods, the smallest bit of relief easing the edge of panic at being alone in the woods with a stranger right before it gets dark. She remembers Robb telling her that everyone else was too hung over to go early morning fishing with him one time last year, and he'd wrangled a neighbor into going.

“Do you have a flashlight?”

“No.”

His mouth tilts down and he makes a humming noise, then runs his eyes over her, and normally she'd be thrilled with a guy checking her out (especially one that looks like him), but it feels less like he's checking her out and more like he's judging what she's wearing.

“It's gonna be dark before you get back,” he frowns. “And cold.”

“I didn't notice how far I walked,” she tries to explain, feeling suddenly, incredibly stupid. Stupid Sansa, agreeing to come on a camping trip that she had no interest in, wandering out into the woods in a tank top and shorts with no idea where or how far she was going.

“My cabin's not too far,” he says, frown still in place. “I'll go grab you a jacket and a flashlight. You can come with or stay here.”

“Oh, you don't have to-” she starts, but he's already continuing in the direction he was headed and she doesn't know why, but she decides to go with him. When he realizes she's following, he slows his pace to match hers and they walk in silence until a cabin comes into view. It's just like their rental, though he said he owned it.

“Do you know if Robb keeps his radio on?” the man asks when he opens the door to his cabin and walks inside. She stands at the doorway, unable to make herself go in. She can't decide if coming with him was a bad decision, or if staying in the woods alone would have been worse. She does know that staying outside is a better choice than going into the cabin – at least she has a clear path to run if he turns out to be some sort of serial killer.

“Radio?”

“You guys should have one in your cabin,” the man goes over and picks up what looks like an old CB radio. “Since the reception out here is terrible. It's for emergencies, he should technically have it on at all times, just in case.”

“Oh, yeah, I think so,” she nods. “Theon was playing around with it earlier and Robb yelled at him.”

“Good,” the man nods, “the rangers out here don't take distress calls lightly.” He then turns fully to the radio and tunes something and then presses a button and holds the receiver up to his mouth and says, “I'm looking for Robb or Arya at the Manderly cabin.”

There's a bout of silence and then - “this is Jeyne, who's this?”

“You know a Jeyne?” the man asks her, finger now off the button.

“Robb's girlfriend,” Sansa nods.

He presses the button, “hi Jeyne, my name's Jon Snow, I'm at the next cabin over. I've got-” he looks startled for a moment and then looks over at her, finger off the button again. “What's your name?”

“Sansa.”

“Jeyne, I've got Sansa here.”

“Oh seven,” Jeyne's voice comes through. “Is she ok?”

“She's fine, just wandered a bit too far. Figured I'd give you guys a heads up since it'll be dark before she gets back.”

There's a bit more silence and then - “Snow?”

“That's Arya,” Sansa says, and the man nods. Jon, he said his name was.

“Hey, Arya,” Jon says into the receiver. “You hear all that?”

“Thank fuck you found her, we were freaking out. Theon was starting to take bets that she got eaten by wolves.”

Sansa knows she isn't the kind of person that likes camping. She knows everyone else knows this. But it still sucks to hear them confirm it, to hear how little faith they have in her, and she feels something like shame creep through her. What was she even thinking coming here? She's so stupid.

“Sounds like Theon's a bit of a dick,” Jon mutters to himself, she doesn't think she's supposed to hear it, and his voice goes back to normal volume when he presses the button and says, “I'll have her back soon, no worries.”

“Hey Snow, you got beer over there?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good, you're now invited to the bonfire. Bring beer.”

Jon looks over at her and Sansa rolls her eyes. “They drank most of their supply last night and have been arguing about who's going to run out for more. You shouldn't waste yours on them.”

“We'll see you guys in a little,” Jon says into the receiver before hanging it up for good. “I'm gonna go change out of this,” he gestures down at his sweat-soaked shirt and running shorts, “give me five minutes? Then we'll head back, ok?”

She gives him a nod and he disappears into a back room that she assumes is his bedroom. When he's gone, she tries to look around the cabin, but the daylight is fading, just like he said it would, and the room is mostly in shadow. At some point, she hears a shower run briefly.

He comes back out in jeans and a flannel over a different white t-shirt, carrying a second flannel that he walks over and hands to her. She shrugs it on over her tank top, and only then does she realize how cold it's gotten with the sun gone. Jon goes over and grabs a large flashlight out of a cabinet and then to the fridge and pulls out two beers.

“Here,” he says, handing her one of them. She gives him a confused look and he grins at her. “Arya told me to bring beer, she didn't tell me how much. One for me,” he holds up the beer still in his hands, “and one for you.”

“Arya's gonna be furious,” Sansa tries to scold, but she can't help her smile, the warmth that rushes through her chest.

“Arya should be more specific in her instructions,” Jon's still grinning and he switches on the flashlight and steps outside and locks his door behind him. “So you're the other sister, right? I recognize your name.”

“They talk about me?” she asks, that warm feeling replaced by dread again. She really doesn't want to hear what her siblings say about her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “apparently you make some sort of apple thing that they couldn't shut up about.”

Sansa nearly stops in her tracks in shock, but she forces herself to keep walking. “Oh, yeah. Apple crisp. I'm surprised they remember that.”

Their parents have a fire pit in the back yard and when they were kids, they'd have sleepovers in a tent out back sometimes. They'd sit around the fire pit and Sansa would make apple crisp in mom's cast iron skillet.

Is that why Arya had made a detour on their way here and bought two bags of apples? Is that what Arya and Robb have been hinting at for the past couple days? To be honest, it's been years since Sansa last made it, maybe when she was fifteen or so, she forgot all about it.

“They also said you tell really good ghost stories,” Jon continues, seeming unaware of her inner confusion.

“I'm a writer,” she says softly, more to herself than anything.

“No shit,” Jon sounds impressed and Sansa's confusion is slowly morphing into something else. Something warm. Something that makes her want to cry.

Have Robb and Arya been inviting her all these years because they want her to come? Not just out of obligation?

She stops walking and turns to him. “Do you have more beer?”

“Yeah, there's a whole pack in the fridge,” Jon shrugs.

“We should take them some. I'll pay you back.”

“You don't have to pay me, but... this apple crisp I've heard so much about...”

She laughs. “I think we have the ingredients for it.”

“Alright, lets go grab the rest of the beer.”

They turn back around and Sansa can't stop smiling and suddenly the next nine days don't look so bad.

#jonsa #31daysofjonsa #31daysofjonsa2021

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icefire149 · 3 years ago

Note

Fluff prompts. 51 + destiel :)

Heyyyy there <3 I'm so sorry how long this took to write. Between my own life throwing hurdles, THIS FIC.....this fic just kept throwing me in the trunk and taking control of the car. I'm so sorry it sprung a million miles away from fluff immediately. I don't know why when I mediated on the prompt my mind went this way and didn't stop. I hope you still enjoy what ended up happening anyways <333

#51 “I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

Dean’s heart stopped the moment they fell through the portal rift. His body hit the bunker floor with a loud thump, but so did Castiel’s. It wasn’t until a moment later when Cas wiggled to sit up, slamming the palm of his hand onto the floor as he gasped for air, that Sam felt his stomach drop.

“Dean?” Sam shouted, dropping to his knees at his brother’s side. He shook Dean’s shoulder with increasing roughness.

With wide eyes, Cas pushed forward searching Dean’s face for any sign of life. “He was…..Sam, he was just-”

“He’s not breathing.” Sam muttered in shock before surging forward to start pressing on his brother’s chest. “What did he do, Cas! A deal?”

“No!” His whole body started trembling. What he wanted was to lay his hands on Dean’s head and wake him up, but there was nothing he could do now. His fingers lightly grazed across the bandage Dean quickly taped on his neck. There wasn’t an ounce of grace left.

Squeezing his hands into fists, Cas glanced around the room. Besides the three of them and the bowl the brothers must have used for the spell, the room was bare. “Where’s Jack?”

Sam kept his eyes glued to his brother’s face. His jaw tightened. “A lot’s happened since you died. Jack’s God now so he left.”

“He’s what?” Furious, Cas pushed Sam’s hands aside and took over compressions. He slammed a single fist into Dean’s chest, rocking the man’s whole body from the impact. Still, Dean didn’t wake.

Cas leaned close, listening and feeling for breath against his skin. His mouth quivered as he sat up feeling for a pulse. “No,” his voice commanded.

He started compressions, pressing harder than Sam dared. Dean’s limbs convulsed. “You failed, to mention, that you let, our son, become God,” he growled in between beats, letting his eyes trail up to Dean’s face. “You promised, me, forever! You promised. You promised.”

“You’re….breaking his rib cage,” Sam’s voice broke. His eyes were wide with horror as he watched his brother’s chest concave more than he thought possible. “Cas?” Sam’s voice shook. He rested a shaky hand on the angel’s shoulder.

“You don’t, get to die,” Cas mumbled, ignoring Sam’s presence. His hands paused for a moment as he took a deep breath. The sound of his own heart racing was like a loud boom, pounding on his eardrums. “Jack Kline, you will come home right now.”

Cas resumed compressions. Again, and again. He blinked the beading tears away, but they quickly filled his eyes. His hands, the bunker, Dean….they all blurred away as he kept beating to the rhythm of his nightmare.

The tears ran hot down his cheeks while he blinked. He needed to keep Dean in his sight. Dean was his beacon home. Sniffling, Cas couldn’t stop.

Sam withdrew his hand. “Cas?” his voice was so small and afraid like several decades were suddenly torn away.

Then as Cas pressed, he finally turned to glance at Sam. His voice cracked, "We're gonna need an ambulance."

At that, Sam flew to his feet, feeling for his phone before spotting it on the nearby table. He was unlocking it when a blinding light filled the room.

"Castiel?"

“Fix him.” Cas didn’t look up. He kept pounding on Dean’s chest. His compressions had only lessened a fraction in strength.

But Jack didn’t move from where he stood on the other side of Dean. His gaze moved over to Sam, and the fear circling there twisted the hunter’s gut into knots. “But I…..” Slowly, he dropped down to a knee, and then the other. “Cas,” his voice cracked. “There’s a bigger picture that I’m apart of now. I promised to protect it. I promised not to interfere.”

“And I, promised, to protect you,” Cas answered, halting compressions. He remained hunched over Dean with his hands still pressed over his heart. The angel’s eyes squished shut as quiet sob tore through him.

New tears slid down his already soaked face, hugging his jaw. “I can’t do that without saving him one more time. He promised me forever.” His gaze slid up to meet his son’s with fiery determination. “Jack, it’s too soon to be his time.”

“Okay.” Jack laid his hands next to his father’s. He closed his eyes, and breathed.

Dean gasped awake with three sets of eyes staring at him from above. The angels withdrew their hands.

Sam fell back into the chair at his side. His whole body sagged with exhaustion. “Thank you.”

“What happened?” Dean’s stare bounced back and forth between everyone. He slowly sat up, and Jack collided into him first.

Pressing his chin into Dean’s shoulder, Jack collapsed into him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A few coughs tore through Dean’s body, but he kept a hand on the center of Jack’s back the whole time. When his breathing settled, Dean hugged him back. Also with his free hand, he laid a hand on Cas’ knee.

“I felt it….when I healed you. Everything,” Jack confessed quietly. “Your heart gave out.”

Dean snorted at that. “That’s not much of a surprise, kid.” His eyes met his brother’s. “Sammy’s been telling me for years the bacon was gonna get me.”

“No.” Jack hung on tighter. “It was grief. The loss of Cas…….me. It weakened your heart, but I knitted it all back together again.”

“Oh.” Dean’s grip on Cas’ leg tightened.

“I didn’t know you would miss me.” The words came out quiet enough that Dean wasn’t sure if Jack meant to speak them out loud. And then Jack started to let go, but Dean held on tighter.

“I’m an expert at messing up….heh, well, everything in my life, but yeah, of course Jack. Of course, I missed you.”

The rest of the day felt almost too good to be true. They all climbed into the impala -Dean drove much to Sam’s dismay- and they went out to their favorite diner closest to the bunker.

Over their favorite meals, Jack began going over his progress and plans for all of creation. There were several parts where his excitement was palpable, but he clearly was trying to be mature about the situation under Cas’ scrutinizing eye. Sam followed after, explaining in detail the spell work him and Rowena poured over crafting the past several months. Intermittently, Dean cut in to proudly point out where his research came in handy and how him and Eileen went about gathering the ingredients.

Afterwards, Jack looked up from his dessert with chocolate syrup smeared at the corner of his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he studied Dean closely. “Now that Castiel is free, what are you planning on doing now?”

Surprised, Dean leaned back in the booth. “That’s not my call.” He wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Any ideas?”

“No more dying,” Cas answered firm, taking a long drink from his beer. His steely gaze slowly moved to each person at the table. “That goes for all of you.”

“And you too,” Jack pressed.

“Of course.” Cas shivered involuntarily. “I’m not planning on returning to the Empty any time soon.”

“You shouldn’t, ever,” Sam answered. “That was the push behind removing your grace. Without it the Empty shouldn’t have any claim over you.”

“Thank you,” Cas answered, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“You’ll never go back.” The tone in Jack’s voice lifted Cas’ gaze to his. “When the time comes, you’ll have a place at my side. Forever.”

Smiling softly, the tension drained away from Cas’ body. “Thank you, Jack. That’s an honor.”

“You’ll all have an important place,” Jack continued happily. “Mary too. And my mother.”

That night had a difficult start. Jack reluctantly left for Heaven. He promised to return for the following weekend to discuss his duties further with Cas. And Cas, he held onto his son for so long that Jack in between his laughter had to appeal to Sam and Dean for help getting free.

It wasn’t long later that Sam got up from the library chairs they were all located at and rested a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re back. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight Sam,” Cas answered. He watched Sam cross over to Dean and punch his shoulder teasingly.

Once Sam was out of sight, Dean’s gaze landed on Cas. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Today, uh, didn’t exactly go as planned, but….I’m glad it happened.”

Cas’ stare hardened. “Dean, you died.”

“And I got better.”

Sighing, Cas’ gaze fell to his lap. He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “I can’t do that again.”

“Well, I can’t watch you die for….what? The fourth? The fifth time?”

Wincing, Cas nodded. “You asked me earlier….or rather, Jack asked you, what we’re planning on doing next and-” He sat up straighter in his chair and held Dean’s stare. “I want us to retire from hunting.”

Gobsmacked, Dean blinked. “Retire?”

“Doing research. Providing assistance on the phones….that’s all still acceptable and I’m willing to compromise on that.”

Dean chuckled, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Cas repeated, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded with a grin. “I’ve been bugging Sam for a couple years now about retiring…..especially if Jack could make things better...like the future that you saw.”

“Oh.” Cas tilted his head a bit. “I didn’t realize that you took that to heart.”

“I didn’t at first,” he admitted. “You died, and I figured that it was all one huge manipulation. Gabriel’s illusions. Lucifer’s lies.” Cas nodded, and Dean continued. “But then, you came home and….it became hard not to see so much of...you in him.”

“He’s a good boy, but I’m afraid that you’re placing too much….credit? On my shoulders.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Jack’s good, because he has the best father to emulate. There’s nobody else that fights….and sacrifices...to do the right thing like you.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth curved. “And they’re probably better off for it….”

“Cas, come on.” Dean sighed. “Okay, you did your big speech about how you see me….well suck it up, because you need to learn to see yourself the way everyone else sees you.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Dean pressed. “Like yeah, things don’t always go as we planned. I sure as hell know Chuck didn’t plan on being fired and left in the dirt, but….the point is that, you’re probably the best guy in existence.”

That knocked the air out of Cas’ lungs and slapped a goofy smile on his face. “You’re biased.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong, and I’m not.”

Cas shook his head, but that smile was still firmly there. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Come on,” Dean said standing up. He reached a hand out towards the angel. “It’s time for bed.”

Without hesitation, Cas took his hand but he didn’t rise from his chair. He stared at the marvel that was Dean’s skin pressed against his. It was callused in a few places, but still softer than Castiel imagined.

His gaze lifted up to meet Dean’s and a pang of anxiety wrapped around his chest. The joy slipped from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Dean’s grip tightened.

“What if I don’t wake up? Statistically, there’s a chance I’m still asleep in the Empty.”

Dean tugged Cas’ arm, and the angel let himself be pulled forward and engulfed in Dean’s arms. They clung onto each other tightly.

“You’re here,” Dean pressed. “This is real. I’ll remind you every day if I have to. I meant what I said when you woke up.”

“And then you almost didn’t get to fulfill that promise.”

“I would’ve,” Dean said, in a matter of fact. Pulling back, his eyes trailed over every inch of Cas’ face. He brought a hand up to cup the angel’s cheek, and then Dean leaned forward to press a kiss to Cas’ forehead. “Where ever my soul would've ended up, nothing was gonna change. I’d still love you.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “So you’re promising, forever-forever?”

Chuckling, Dean dropped his head so his forehead was on Cas’ shoulder. “Yeah,” he breathed, laughing still. “When forever ends, I’ll just love you some more.”

Other fics from this round of prompts

Previous round of prompts

#spn #my writing #despite this taking me a million different directions i'm really happy with how this story came out #i'm incredibly fond #i'm sorry for the initial pain. it gets sweet!

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justmeandmysickies · 3 years ago

Note

Could you write a fic where Sevan is really sick and Naoko is very concerned. They can't go to the hospital for some reason and are just stuck at home. Hey I just wanted to say that I'm not pressuring you. I'd love it if you wrote this fic but its fine if you don't. You do you.

Here it finally is, anon! I'm so sorry it took so long and I'm also sorry about how rushed this is written but that was unfortunately the best I could do.

characters: Sevan and Naoko

warnings: emeto, fever and hospital mention

What are you laughing at?

This was bad. This was just so very bad, and Naoko had no idea how to fix it.

Sevan had been dealing with some kind of stomach bug for about two days now. His fever had been rising steadily, currently sitting at almost forty degrees Celsius.

And to add insult to injury a hurricane was making it impossible to leave the house at the moment, leaving Naoko in a constant state of near panic regarding his partner’s health.

Said partner was currently sprawled out on their bed, beads of sweat running down his forehead. The blanket lay in a messy pile on the floor, long ago abandoned. Sevan had one hand wrapped protectively around his aching stomach, the other clenching Naoko’s shirt in a desperate attempt at finding some comfort.

Nao was seated next to his ill-stricken boyfriend, carefully dabbing a cool washcloth over his face and neck, trying his hardest to bring down his partner’s temperature and lessen his extreme discomfort.

Sevan had long stopped talking. Nausea was clawing at his throat, and he feared even as much as opening his mouth could send him over the edge.

At a loss for what to do, Naoko simply sat in silence with him. Any other day they would have been at the hospital by now, but the storm was rendering them unable to do so – and it was driving Nao absolutely crazy.

While his boyfriend was busy worrying about that, Sevan was once again losing the battle against his nausea. He barely had the time and strength to prop himself up on his elbow before a retch brought up a thin stream of clear bile. Albeit being taken a bit by surprise, Naoko had the puke bowl under his boyfriend’s chin almost immediately. With a wet splat more bile hit the plastic. The heaves were painful, Sevan’s throat raw from all the puking. He was dizzy and weak, his head was killing him, his heart was racing, and he was just overall feeling like death warmed over. As much as he usually hated hospitals – right now that didn’t even sound like such a bad idea. Unfortunately impossible.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.” Naoko muttered to nobody in particular.

Still leaning over the bowl, Sevan actually managed a weak chuckle. “Believe it or not, me neither.” Speaking however, proved to be counterproductive as it triggered his gag reflex, instantly bringing up more of the bitter substance.

Naoko cringed. His boyfriend looked and sounded awful and there was nothing he could do to ease his pain. The medication they had tried didn’t seem to be doing anything and hospital was still out of the question.

When Sevan finally seemed done for the time being, Nao went to wash out the bowl, at the same time getting new sheets, since their current ones were now stained with vomit.

Sevan was now sitting on the floor, too exhausted to care about anything. Naoko sighed.

“Okay, we’re taking a shower. You are soaked in sweat, and we need to get your temperature down.”

He barely got a reaction out of his boyfriend. At this point Sevan barely even registered he was being spoken to. His brain felt foggy, and his eyelids were simply so damn heavy. Nao’s voice sounded far away. Before he even realized what was happening, Sevan was being hoisted off the floor and manhandled into the couple’s bathroom. It all happened in such a blur – one second he was sitting on the bedroom floor and in the next he was sitting in their shower. In that moment his brain also registered something that felt like pain and his body flinched automatically.

“Sorry baby but the water needs to be cold.”

Ah, cold water. That made sense.

Although the feeling of ice-cold water on his skin was far from nice, it actually seemed to wake Sevan up a bit. The fog in his head cleared slightly and for the first time he realized just how cold the water really was. Immediately, he started shivering, his teeth chattering audibly.

Naoko felt bad – his boyfriend was obviously freezing – but they needed to stay a little longer. If they could just bring Sevan’s temperature down.

About two minutes later Sevan couldn’t take it anymore. With a bit of newfound strength he actually managed to push himself up onto his knees, just high enough to reach the handle and turn off the water. Only when he turned around did he realize that Nao was standing in the shower right behind him, only wearing his underwear, soaked from head to toe.

Sevan began to laugh – although it wasn’t much more than a weak chuckle, it was a nice sound to hear.

“What are you laughing at?” Naoko asked, genuinely confused.

“You really got in the shower with me – now you’re soaked!” Sevan was honestly not sure why that situation was so funny to him, but he figured his fever-rattled brain would be to blame for that.

Nao smiled. “Yes, I am. I’m glad you seem to be feeling better.”

Back in their bed it didn’t take Sevan more than a couple of minutes to fall asleep, sickness and exhaustion showing their effects.

Naoko was left staring out the window – he knew the improvement was only temporary and he could only hope that the storm would stop soon.

For now all they could do was wait.

#em writes #sevan #naoko #my ocs #emeto

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solaneceae · 3 years ago

Text

REFUGE : a MFKZ oneshot

AO3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567571

************

So... Things weren't looking too great.

Vinz pursed the lips he didn’t have, looking up from his sketchbook- he wasn’t a good artist by any means, but mindless doodling had always been his go-to activity for stress relief. Unfortunately, Angelino hadn’t moved an inch. Hadn’t for days now.

Nobody knew what was wrong with him- they’d tried just about everything to wake him up, to no avail. It was like his body was fighting against itself- the professor’s words, not his. Something about his weird biology shifting, disrupted by recent stress.

Well, whatever was going on, his best friend looked awful- his usually inky black skin had an unhealthy ashen tint, deep shadows under his eyes making him look even more bug-eyed than usual. He was also eerily still and silent, save for his deep, raspy breathing, and his eyes that sometimes moved rapidly for a few minutes before stopping. Beads of sweat were gathering at his temples, his clavicle, his stomach, falling slowly on the fabric of the couch he was laid on- one of the only pieces of furniture in the bare little cabin they’d been assigned to.

Or confined to, given the disapproving looks the hothead got from their saviors whenever he tried to go further than the water hole behind the wooden house.

Their saviors- the luchadores. As crazy as it sounded still, him and Lino had been rescued from that nightmare facility by none other than their wrestling idols- and had the circumstances not been this terrifying, Vinz definitely would’ve been fanboying all over the place. Both Tigre and Diablo were even more impressive up close, their booming, commanding voices rattling his bones.

But that was the thing- the admiration, the awe, the fluttery feeling of being starstruck… it hadn’t lasted very long. Not when they were running from bloodthirsty aliens -aliens!- with some weird old man who knew way too much about Lino for it to be comfortable.

Vinz groaned, getting off the floor- his joints cracked as he walked to the couch to sit by Lino’s bedside, feeling completely useless. He stifled a flinch when he spotted a few roaches in the palm of Lino’s hand, apparently watching over their beloved master.

It was equally sweet and gross, in Vinz’ opinion. But he couldn’t be mad- not anymore. Not when the swarm of crawling black pests had been the cause of their salvation. He distantly wondered if his friend’s true nature had something to do with the strange connection he had with his roaches.

Yeah… That was another thing he’d had to unpack in the last few days. He’d figured from Angelino’s recent athletic exploits and murder-y, tentacle-y episodes that something very weird was up with his best friend. But this… this was a little too much.

As it turned out, Lino was an alien. An honest-to-God alien- or at least, half of him was. The guy had never, ever talked about his parents, his earliest memories only going back to the orphanage they’d both grown up in. God knows how he’d ended up there, but considering how the Machos (and what stupid-ass name that was for an alien race, for real) seemed to view relashionships between humans and their kind… Vinz could take a guess at how that little love story had ended.

He wasn’t an idiot, despite what all the people he’d worked with might think. In the short moments where he’d been conscious and the big suit guy was around, he’d heard him mention something about ‘finishing what he’d started’ as he glared at Lino’s unresponsive body.

That had told Vinz everything he needed to know. Whoever Lino’s parents had been, they were long dead. And that man was responsible for it.

Angelino didn’t need this. He didn’t deserve any of this, to be torn from his family, hunted down like a rogue animal, and even now, being looked down at like some interesting science experiment.

Oh, Vinz saw them alright. The curious stares, the inquisitive glances. The hushed conversations between the masked men, like Lino held all answers.

Like he’d said- he would’ve fanboyed hard about his favorite fighters being around. But the way they looked at and talked about his best friend made his blood boil and his flames burn hotter. It didn’t matter that Lino was a hybrid, that he had freaky powers, hell, he could’ve been the second coming of Jesus for all Vinz cared.

Angelino was his best friend in the whole world. They’d been through so much together, even before this mess- they’d been living together their whole lives, they trusted each other, supported each other no matter what.

Vinz had wondered why he’d been so angry at Lino, at that girl. He briefly considered the possibility that he was harboring feelings for his best friend, that it was jealousy. But it quickly occurred to him that no, that wasn’t the nature of his feelings for the black ball-headed man.

Vinz loved Lino, yes. More than anything in this world, if he was being honest with himself. But he wasn’t in love with him- there was a distinct difference. He wanted to protect him, stand by him. He wanted them to keep watching dumb movies together late at night, on their shitty couch, in their shitty apartment and yet shittier neighborhood. And he’d be content with that- as long as Angelino was here, he’d be okay.

Angelino. His best friend. And his partner, for life.

This ran probably deeper than mere friendship- not like Vinz would know how to even call it. It might not have been romantic… but it felt equally as strong, and precious. Vinz sighed, crossing his arms on the couch and resting his skull between his arms. He’d considered running away- take Lino and run, run on the line between ochre sand and purple skies of the desert. Hide out somewhere, wait for everything to finally blow over. Watch over Lino until he woke up, as he was doing now.

But that was a pipe dream, and Vinz knew that. They weren’t the survivor types- they’d just die within a few days without the luchadores’ help, and then what? No, as much as Vinz disliked it, staying here was the smartest thing he could do right now.

So Vinz kept watch- gently cleaning Lino’s exposed skin with a wet sponge when his body ran too hot, replacing the cool rag on his forehead and eyes. Covering him with a blanket when he got too cold, whispering hushed reassurances.

Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.

I’m here.

I’m not leaving.

Come on Lino, please.

Come back to me, okay?

I can’t do this shit without you.

I’ll be better, I promise.

I’ll protect you this time, so please.

Please wake up.

#mutafukaz #mfkz #angelino diaz #vincent scavo #vinz #queerplatonic vingelino #vingelino #they're qpps your honor #this takes place after they escape the alien facility #before lino wakes up in the movie #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot

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justnerdthings · 3 years ago

Text

New Beginnings Ch.5

female reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

I don't need to explain anything. I'm a dramatic ass bitch.

Also, you find out your arcana today!

Day three of training. Your arms ached to the point that changing out of your night robe and into a clean gi took several minutes. Today was not going to be fun.

The morning had gone about the same as yesterday. You were only a step closer to the edge of that cliff, but thanks to withdrawal, you may as well have been hanging off of it. The pain throughout your body acted as a welcomed distraction. Training with Liu had been the same.

It was after dinner now and Liu was leading you through the halls.

“How are your arms feeling?” Liu asked.

“Sore.”

“And your back?”

“Still sore, Liu…” You’d been a little testy today. The pain radiating in your upper body probably didn’t help, but you knew the real reason. This was the third day in a row you hadn’t taken your medication.

“I see…” He’d noticed your demeanor since breakfast, and it only seemed to get worse throughout the day. Lao had warned him you were rather hostile this morning. He was worried this would happen. “I’m sorry that we don’t have your medication here.”

“Why can’t I just go home and get it? I’ll come back.”

“Even if you did, what would happen when you run out?”

“I’d just get it refilled.”

“And what if Mortal Kombat comes sooner than expected and you are without it? It can last days.”

Today you were in no mood for his knack of poking holes in your logic. But you bit your tongue.

“This will be good for you,” He said.

“This is hell, Liu.”

“It will pass.”

“But will I?”

Liu looked at you and his jaw hardened. You’d been increasingly more morbid since breakfast. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Not unless you got two-hundred milligrams of sertraline in your pocket.”

He frowned. “What did you used to do before you were on medication?”

“Cry.”

“Y/N…”

You sighed. Patience was wearing thin. “Run.”

“Run?”

“Yeah. Not far or anything. Just enough to burn off the rogue adrenaline.”

“Would you like to run?”

You looked at him, not entirely sure what he meant.

“We can run.” He gestured down the hall. “Lao and I used to race each other through the temple many times.”

“What stopped you?”

“It wasn’t challenging anymore.” He grinned.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “I doubt I’ll be much of a challenge, Liu.”

“I don’t mind. Besides, endurance training is important for a fighter.”

Again with his logic… “Okay. Sure.”

He smiled. “Great. Whenever you’re ready.” He gestured.

You took a few deep breaths as you stared down the hall. It couldn't have been more than a few hundred feet. That would be easy enough. Your legs pushed off, and you ran at a comfortable jog. You hadn’t done this in years. It felt alien at first, but you quickly picked up the pace as your legs remembered how to carry you properly. Your heart pounded as you raced through the halls, dodging monks. It was like a metronome you had to keep up with. You felt so free, you turned a corner and kept going.

Liu had no problem keeping up with you, but stayed back at a pace to keep an eye on you. After a while, his presence behind you grew annoying… suffocating. You sped up, but he must have kept up. You could practically feel him breathing down your neck. Your heart pounded faster. Your anxiety was creeping up again. You were starting to feel things that weren’t true. Bugs on your arms. Always bugs on your arms. Thick air...

You couldn’t breathe.

You came to a stop and put a hand against a wall. You leaned against it as you fought for each breath. Your chest was on fire. Sweat had soaked you. You clenched your eyes shut and bent over as your chest, arms, and back screamed with pain.

Liu was right there. Concern was all over his face as he moved in front of you and knelt to meet your eyes. Seeing them closed so tight, and the pain on your face, fear flowed through him. “Y/N. Y/N! Are you alright?” You felt his warm hands gently hold your face.

You shook your head free from his hands. “Can’t… can’t bre—… breathe,” you gasped. Another squeeze of pain in your chest finally caused tears to roll down your cheeks as you cried out. Was this it? Was this the heart attack you had feared would come ever since you were a teenager? You hadn’t thought much about it in the past few years, but this was it, wasn’t it? You were going to die. You were going to die just like your great grandparents had, just like your grandmother had, how your mother was predicted to die. Heart disease was going to kill your whole family. And you were going to die right here, right now!

Strong arms had swept you up and your body tensed with the sudden weightlessness. Did you just die? No. You were being carried and rushed down the halls.

But you were still convinced this was it. You were dying. You were dying and there wasn’t a real hospital anywhere near here. You were doomed. Your heart pounded faster and harder as if it was about to burst out of your chest. You were going to die in this strange place. No family. No friends. Your chest tightened and you gasped, gripping Liu's gi as if it would save you. Your heart was doing summersaults. Tremors began to plague you and your blood turned into ice. Tears were streaming down your face now as panic took complete control of your body.

There was a pause in Liu’s pace as the ground began to shake. You could feel him hold you closer, protectively, before consciousness slipped away from you.

————

Liu’s own heart was racing as he watched your face. The pain that shot through you… You weren’t breathing properly at all. Tears unlike he’d ever seen streamed down your face. He had no idea what was happening to you, but he knew it wasn’t good. It wasn’t right. You needed medical attention.

In one graceful motion, he’d scooped you up. You shook in his arms. You were so cold. Something was definitely not right. He carried you down the hall, racing for the infirmary.

The ground rumbled. He barely registered it before it shook his footing off kilter. He held you closer and backed against a wall to steady himself and you. A crack shot up the wall opposite him which quickly webbed off up and down the hall. Pieces of the cave were falling. The icy wave of adrenaline washed over him. The temple was crumbling!

Lightning shot through the hall. Lui ducked down and out of the way with you, using his back-side to shield you from stray sparks. The shaking stopped. Peeking over his shoulder, he found the cracks in the walls to be mended with black glass. He didn’t move for a moment. Would there be an aftershock?

But nothing came.

He stood. You were still safe in his arms. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at your face. His heart skipped.

You were limp. You’d passed out on him. At least he hoped you were just passed out...

He held you closer, chest to chest, ear to your lips. A relieved sigh escaped him again. You were breathing. Good. He carried you again, running for the infirmary.

You laid on an old gurney, still passed out. The monks were confident that you weren’t in any danger, but it did little to wave Liu’s worry. As Lui stood by you, he thumbed his prayer beads, trying to register everything that happened. You had been so frightened…

“How is she?”

Lui was pulled out of his head and looked up. Raiden had pulled aside the curtain. Lui quickly bowed his head in respect, surprised to see him. “They say she’s fine,” he answered.

Raiden nodded and stepped closer to you. His hand hovered over your head for a moment, then he moved it slowly down the length of your body right to your feet. “Fear consumes her… She must learn to control it. She nearly killed you all.”

Lui had watched him, then looked to his face with confusion.

Raiden glanced to him and swept his hand back up your body as if trying to pinpoint something. "Don't tell me you haven't caught on yet, Liu Kang," he said with amusement.

"She did that?" Liu asked in disbelief, watching Raiden's hand. Could you really have shaken the earth so violently?

Raiden nodded. Finally his hand stopped right above your chest. "Ah, there it is." He clenched his hand, as if grabbing hold of something and pulled his hand up as if lifting something out of you. A small black wisp was pulled from your chest. It wriggled in protest as Raiden held it.

Liu's eyes widened at the sight. "What is that?"

You released a breath and your chest stilled.

Adrenaline kicked in again and Liu moved closer. No...

"Ah-uh. None of that…" Raiden chided gently. He placed his free hand directly on your chest and gave you a small shock. It jerked your body. Your lungs dragged in a breath as life was restored to you.

Liu allowed himself to breathe again. Raiden pulled his hand away from you and turned his attention back to the black wisp caught in his other hand. "Disease plagues her family, Liu Kang. But no longer does it plague her." He squeezed the wisp in his hand and sparks ignited. It burnt away in seconds.

"Disease?" Liu had no idea you were ill.

"Her fear stems from this disease. She has lived in fear of it since she was a small child."

"Is her anxiety is gone now?"

"She will still have anxieties, but knowing that her heart is not a time bomb will ease it." Raiden looked over you again. He placed his hand on your head, then turned to face Liu. "She is fond of you, Liu Kang. With Kung Lao's help you two will give her reason to not only fight, but live. I'm interested to see how that turns out." A small grin pulled his lips as he turned away and pulled aside the curtain. "Very interested indeed."

——————

You woke later into the night. You hated yourself. You hadn’t had an episode like that in years. You’d forgotten just how bad they were. You felt like a total jackass that you'd wasted everyone's time. You had thought you were going to drop dead! You laid there on the gurney, cussing yourself out with a throbbing head, staring at the ceiling and those stupid lanturns… Did the walls always have that black glass running through them?

Liu poked his head through the curtain and knocked on the wall. You turned your eyes to see him. He offered you a small smile. “May I come in?”

You nodded and closed your eyes for a moment as the headache shifted behind them.

He stepped in and to your side. His smile turned sad. Pity. It was pity. You were sure of it. “How do you feel?” he asked innocently enough.

You held your head and tears started filling your eyes again. "Like an idiot."

He frowned and moved closer. “You are not an idiot.”

“Yes, I am. I thought I was dying. But it was just a stupid anxiety attack!” You kicked an IV rack in your frustration. Liu hadn’t been expecting that and jumped slightly. The crash gained attention from the monks and one pulled the curtain aside to investigate.

“Sorry,” you said through tears. But you weren’t.

The monk looked from you to Liu with suspicion. Liu nodded to him and moved to pick up the IV rack. He set it well out of your reach. Luckily you weren’t hooked up to it. The monk stayed for a moment longer until he was confident that everything was fine. Liu returned to your side. “When you described your anxiety the other night, I had no idea it was this bad.”

“I forgot,” you admitted, wiping your nose.

He nodded and pulled over a stool, taking a seat. “I can see why you would seek the help of medication.”

“Enough to see that I need it?”

“No.” He watched as you continued to cry. He took your hand gently and held it in both of his, causing you to look at him. “Lord Raiden visited while you were unconscious. He cured you of your family's illness."

You didn't know what he meant. Your brows knotted.

"Why did you not tell us you had heart disease?" He asked, his voice gentle. “I would have never let you run if I’d known…”

You pushed yourself up a bit, watching him. You hadn't had the disease that your family had… At least it hadn't been diagnosed yet. "What did he do?"

"He removed it. You no longer suffer from it."

"What?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had heart disease? You knew you would eventually, but a small part of you had hoped you never would. But you did have it. Did. And Raiden had removed it? "How… How could he just remove it?"

"He can do many inconceivable things."

You stared at him. No… No way. That was impossible...

Liu gave you a smile as if he knew you were doubting him, doubting Raiden. "You're not going to die, Y/N," he said so tenderly, so sincere. Oh, God, he was telling you the truth!

You pulled your hand from his and covered your mouth. Tears streamed down your face as a tremendous weight had lifted off your shoulders. You sat up and fell into his arms. You sobbed like a little baby. You were going to be okay!

"Lord Raiden," you said, hardly containing your immense relief as you quickly climbed the steps to meet him in his sanctuary. You weren't sure how to say it, so you just said it. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

Raiden turned and lifted a white brow, but he was smiling. It was very refreshing to have you around. The monks were always a little too proper for his taste. "You're welcome, Y/N," he said, his voice hinting at his amusement.

"I… I don't know how, or why you did it. But really, thank you," you couldn't possibly thank him enough. It was like he gave you a brand new start at life.

He chuckled. "You're welcome, Y/N," he repeated.

You stopped before him. You could feel the electricity in his aura and it gave you a surge of energy. You smiled to him, then bowed your head politely like you'd seen the monks, Kung Lao, and Liu Kang do.

"Ah. I see you've been watching the monks," He suspected.

"Yes." You lifted your head to look back up at him. His glowing blue eyes were staring at you.

"How has your training been going?"

"Exhausting." You sighed. "And painful."

He grinned. "There is a saying you humans have. I think it would apply to you."

You thought for a second. "No pain, no gain?"

"Yes. That's it," he realized.

You gave him a small frown. This wasn’t the end of the pain.

"I assume you've decided to stay."

You nodded.

"Good."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I believe you just did."

It took you a moment to realize he made a joke.

He chuckled. You were a delight to play with. "What is your question?"

"Why me?"

Ah. Yes. That question. He'd been expecting that. He nodded. "Why not you?"

"... I don't have any experience."

"That's not entirely true."

"What do you mean?"

"You have plenty of experience standing up for yourself and others. You have even fought to keep others alive--others who were strangers to you. I believe Liu Kang said it quite accurately: You have a brave soul."

You fell silent. He was right. You had spent most of your life fighting. It just wasn't the fighting Mortal Kombat needed.

"Oh, but it is." He'd read your thoughts again. "There is more to Mortal Kombat than defeating your opponent. You must have something to fight for. Something more than glory…"

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang #kung lao #raiden #reader insert #fanfic #fic #reader x character #ludi lin #max huang #tadanobu asano #new beginnings

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a-d-curtis · 4 years ago

Text

Incense

“Are you really that excited about this?” Katara asked, laughing at her husband, ‘the mighty Avatar’, and the giddy way he trotted next to her.

The two walked together hand in hand through the red-tapestried halls of the Firelord’s palace, Katara leading the way to this oft-visited location, navigating which corridors to take, effortlessly winding her way through the mammoth palace like it was a well worn path.

As Aang turned his grey eyes upon her, Katara noted the way his eyes still shone with excitement as they did back when they were kids, even though the smile-lines beside his eyes stayed in more permanent creases now. “Well, I should say so!” he teased, “After you’ve withheld this little pleasure from me all of these years. Yes! Yes, I’m excited to finally be invited to join you!”

Katara stifled a laugh, the sound coming out more as a snort. “Really, Aang? Really?! I just never knew you wanted to come.”

“What?! Why would you think that I wouldn’t want to come?!”

“Well…” Katara began as they rounded the final corner and a woman in a red and gold robe opened the door to the room for them. “I guess I just never thought you would have any… interest in this particular thing.”

Aang looked affronted. “But you’ve come here with everyone else over the years, Katara! Mai, Sokka, even Zuko when he can relax long enough to take a break. You brought Kya even when she was just a little kid, and Bumi can’t seem to get enough!”

Katara turned toward her husband teasingly. “Well, they all, you know…” she rose up on her tiptoes and ran a hand over the smooth arch of her husband’s bald head as she finished, “have hair.” Her eyes laughed even when her mouth held it back.

Aang looked insulted. “Who says you need to have hair!?”

Katara couldn’t hold back her laugh anymore. “Well, it is a hair wash, Aang!”

Aang smirked at her, stroking his beard. “I have hair.”

Katara slapped him playfully across the chest. “You need it on your head, you doofus!”

Aang’s forehead creased as his puppy-dog eyes looked at her dolefully. “Well you took everyone else… I just felt left out.”

Katara laughed again shaking her head in baffled amusement. “All you had to do was tell me you wanted to come."

Aang smiled a flirtatious, one-sided grin. “I figured this was an exclusive ‘by invitation only’ activity.”

Katara laughed and linked her arm through the crook of Aang’s elbow, leading him further into the palace spa. With her other hand she gestured magnanimously “Well then, here you are! The very ‘exclusive’ Palace Hair Wash!”

Before them was a reception room with dimmed lights and a strong aroma of orchids. The calming sound of trickling water could be traced to a fountain that fell from high on the back wall, running over a slanted stone slab carved in the shape of two flying dragons. At the bottom the water ran into a trench that split and continued down two small creeks lined with smoothed stones on either side of the room, creating a cheery trickling sound as it passed. Around the perimeter of the spa heavy red curtains hung covering the entrances to several smaller rooms. A few of the curtains were tied back with thick gold ropes revealing massage tables or big tubs of water within the lowly-lit rooms. In the center of the room stood an elaborately carved golden colored desk, with an elegant, overly made-up elderly woman sitting behind it.

As Katara and Aang approached the center desk, the woman stood with prim stiffness. The elderly woman bowed slightly in Fire Nation custom, the large, ornate black hairpiece on her head tipping forward, causing the beaded strings that hung from either side of her hairpiece to clink softly. “Master Katara, you come again,” she greets with formal curtness. Then turning towards Aang, “And you, Avatar,” her sharp golden eyes darting to his tattoos, her voice laced with cool decorum, “We are honored to have your presence among us.”

Aang bowed to her, replying with jovial warmth, “I’m happy to be here!”

Katara tipped her head to the woman, her voice a bit cooler than usual, “Thank you Madam Uriko. My husband and I have come for a hair wash.”

“Of course,” the woman responded with a smile restricted to just her red painted lips, her eyes still sharp. She waved her large sleeve once and a young woman in red robes rushed forward from where she had stood quietly at the back of the room. “As always,” Madam Uriko’s barbed voice spoke, her piercing eyes not leaving them, “we are at your service.”

As the young woman led Aang and Katara away, Aang glanced back over his shoulder toward Madam Uriko, and shivered. “Is it just me, or does she feel predatory somehow?” Aang asked Katara in a hushed whisper.

Katara leaned in towards Aang whispering, “Madam Uriko has been in charge of this place for decades. One of the old relics of an older time. She’s harmless, just still seeped in beliefs of Fire Nation supremacy. I think it hackles her that Zuko allows non-Fire Nation royalty to use the spa…”

Aang’s brow furrowed for a moment, and Katara guessed at what he was thinking. The two had lamented frequently together of how difficult it was to change the perceptions of those who had been raised on war propaganda. Their little band of child warriors had been able to stop the fighting almost overnight, but the perpetuation of racism, animosity and false-ideologies were much harder to eliminate.

Katara knew that Aang sorrowed, not only for his lost people and culture, but also for the way that even the memory of them had been defiled. Despite Zuko’s efforts to reform education in the Fire Nation to teach the Air Nomad genocide accurately, it was still common to encounter people who still believed the lies taught during the war. It churned Katara’s stomach to know that in 100 years of Fire Nation propaganda, the people had been taught that the Air Nomads were the aggressors, that they had been war-mongers and child-stealers, who swooped in on their flying creatures to slaughter parents and carry away the children of helpless villagers.

Katara still remembers the first time Aang had been called a baby-eater from a terrified old granny. They were in one of the more remote Fire Nation islands, when the old woman had run and swooped up her toddling grandson who had been watching Aang juggle leaves in an airball for a bunch of the local kids. They had still been kids back then, and Katara had confronted the woman, yelling passionately in defense of her boyfriend and the Air Nomads. But Aang had just turned and walked away. When Katara caught up to him, she had listened as Aang quietly recounted a seemingly unrelated story of trying to comfort his crying friend, Samten, when he’d accidentally stepped on a scorpi-beetle while playing airball. Aang told how the two of them had carefully scooped what was left of the tiny squished bug onto a pipa leaf, and performed their best approximation of the “Soaring of the Dead” ritual to send the soul of the scorpi-beetle on gentle breezes into his next life, praying for it to be a good life, full of freedom and enlightenment. Katara and Aang hadn’t talked about what the woman had called him, and he didn’t bring it up again. But Katara knew that the Air Nomads, the memory of whom Sozin and his children slandered, were real people to Aang. They were his culture and heritage, yes; but they were also individuals he had known.

The contrast of what the peaceful Air Nomads had been, and how they were remembered was devastatingly unfair.

In an effort to distract Aang from whatever thoughts he might be slipping into, and pull him back into the present, Katara decided to share a piece of juicy gossip. Pulling on their linked arms to bring Aang’s ear down closer to her, she spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, “Rumor has it Madam Uriko was, um, very close, with Fire Lord Azulon.” The implication of her words caused Aang to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Katara continued, “She’s been working in this spa since she was a young woman, and has bragged to me more than once about how Lord Azulon used to come to her for ‘solace’ from his heavy duties as Fire Lord.”

Aang grimaced comically. And Katara laughed at his expression as she continued, “Madam Uriko is just one of those unchangeable parts of Fire Nation imperialism. I asked Zuko why he keeps her around, and he told me that she technically hasn’t done anything wrong (apart from being super creepy), so he can’t really get rid of her. Aaaand,” Katara dragged the word out with a smirk, “frankly I suspect Zuko is intimidated by her.”

Aang chuckled and chanced a glance back towards the woman again as their host untied the golden rope holding the curtain to their room open. The Madam’s narrowed golden gaze was still on them as the heavy red curtain fell across the doorway, obscuring her from view. “I can see why…” Aang said with a commiserating shudder.

Aang stood still a moment longer, before brightening excitedly, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he said enthusiastically, “Well! Lets bring on this famous hair wash!”

……………….

“So that’s when Zuko gave me that fancy hairbrush set. It was in retribution for the pocket lighters Sokka and I both got him for his birthday.”

Aang spoke from his place lying on the hair wash bed next to hers. Katara smiled as she opened one eye to glance his way, appreciating the large bubbly lather his spa worker had managed to lather on his baldhead. Katara had stifled a laugh at the woman’s expression when Aang had initially lain down, her hands hovering unsurely over his baldhead. But he had smiled affably up at her saying, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out” with a wink. Apparently she had figured it out, because Aang had spent the last twenty minutes sighing in pleasure at the experience.

“Well I really appreciated that gift from Zuko,” Katara said smugly as she closed her eyes again, enjoying the feeling of the spa worker’s hands in her hair as she massaged her scalp and combed out her long tresses in the warm flowing water. “I still use that brush to this day. You’ve got to admit, even with a gag gift, Zuko gives quality.”

Aang chuckled from his place on the hair wash bed next to hers. “Oh absolutely. I kept one of the combs from that set for years, remember?”

Katara laughed again, “Oh yes, I remember. You kept it in your pocket for the sole purpose of pulling it out and combing your beard whenever Zuko was giving a serious speech.”

“I remember fondly the special way he’d glare whenever that comb came out!” Aang laughed jovially.

Katara turned her head to look at her husband again, who now had a warm folded washcloth over his eyes. Even so his hands still gestured animatedly while he talked, his spa worker needing to dodge an especially enthusiastic hand here or there.

Katara smiled as she settled back into her hair wash, sighing in relaxation. She really did love a good palace hair wash – the calm of the dimmed lights, the smell of the flower water and the oils they used in her hair, the sound of the warm water running over her scalp as the woman massaged the base of her neck – it was a little piece of heaven! It was fun to share it with Aang this time.

“Was that before or after Sokka gave Toph those dark glasses?” Katara asked lazily.

“Before, I think,” Aang replied as he sighed again, clearly relishing his ‘sans-hair-head-wash’.

Katara smiled. “Sokka had thought that would be so funny, giving our favorite Blind Bandit sunglasses. Little did he know that she would wear them proudly. Before long, nearly every police officer in Republic City owned a pair.”

Aang chucked. “But that wasn’t nearly as big a backfire as the time I gave a single chopstick to Zuko.”

“Remind me again how a single chopstick is a useless gift for a firebender?”

“Oh it wasn’t because he’s a firebender, Katara! It’s because a single chopstick is useless to anyone! … Or so I thought…” Aang said with chagrin, “But that was before Zuko handed the chopstick to Mai, who with a flick of her arm managed to skewer it securely in the cushion I was sitting on, squarely between my thighs!” Katara could hear the shudder in his voice. “That was before we’d had Tenzin, Katara! Do you know what that could have meant?! For an instant I’d thought that was the end of the Air Nomads for good!”

Katara snorted, knowing full well that Mai would have had that little threat in mind when she threw the chopstick. Although it had taken some time for Katara to warm up to Mai, she now fully appreciated the understated, off-kilter wit of the dark-humored Fire Lady.

“But I thought I had her the next time when I gave her a bag of bison-fur yarn-balls.” Katara could hear the irritation in Aang’s voice when he continued, “Who knew she could make even those hurt…?”

A small snicker had Katara glancing up at the woman washing her hair. Apparently their talking was amusing to those washing their hair; these women undoubtedly would have encountered Mai here as well, and perhaps could appreciate the image of their Fire Lady harassing the Avatar.

But the woman’s mirthful expression hurriedly returned to a professional neutral when the curtain opened and Madam Uriko entered.

The old woman moved gracefully as she stopped in front of the shrine at the front of the small room. Removing a small pressed incense cone from a pouch at her waist, Madam Uriko lit the cone with a small snap of her fingers. Katara was mildly surprised; she hadn’t known that Madam Uriko was a firebender.

“Well Sokka’s birthday is coming up soon, and I’ve got to get him something really useless.” Aang continued talking, probably unaware that Madam Uriko had entered the room.

Madam Uriko lifted the elaborately carved lid of a brass incense burner standing on three spindly legs on the shrine and placed the lit incense pellet inside. After replacing the lid and folding her hands delicately in front of her, Madam Uriko breathed deeply, firebending to coax the fragranced smoke out through the intricate pattern of holes in the lid.

Katara looked toward her husband, washcloth still over his eyes, still moving his hands dramatically as he continued to talk, maybe a bit too loudly. Madam Uriko sent a disdainful look his direction.

“And not useless like that art kit we gave him a few years back,” Aang continued. “I mean, he loved that gift! Sokka completely failed to see any of the irony we all saw when we got it for him…”

Katara decided to ignore the Madam and closed her eyes again, breathing deeply to take in the relaxing aroma of the incense. Katara loved this smell. “You could try finding one of those cloud reading books Aunt Wu used to tell the future…” Katara suggested.

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea, Katara! I’m sure he would— Wait!” Katara heard Aang’s hair washer gasp in surprise. Katara’s eyes sprung open to see Aang sitting up abruptly on the side of the bed, water running down his back from his wet head, the washcloth falling to the floor.

“What is that smell…?” Aang asked, an unexplained apprehension in his voice. Then pointing at the incense burner, he addressed the Madam. “What’s in that burner?”

“It’s incense, Master Avatar,” Madam Uriko said condescendingly. “Surely you’ve smelled incense before.”

Aang ignored her rudeness, and closed his eyes breathing in the scent deeply. His forehead furrowed slightly above his closed eyelids. Katara watched his expression carefully, troubled by her husband’s sudden intensity. Katara noticed Aang swallow thickly, this brows arching in… longing? Sadness? Why was Aang reacting this way?

“Sweetie?” Katara asked softly. But he ignored her, turning instead towards Madam Uriko with a sudden fire in his eyes.

“Where did you get that incense?!” Aang demanded of the woman.

“Get it?” the woman replied coolly, uncowed by Aang’s aggressive tone. “Why it comes from the spa’s private stores. We’ve been burning this incense here in the palace spa for generations. It was a favorite of Firelord Sozin. And of his son, Firelord Azulon.” Madam Uriko said the name like a caress.

Aang took another halted inhale before quickly standing and pushing past the woman, unceremoniously ripping the lid off the burner and tipping the burning cone into his hand. Katara watched his back stiffen visually.

Katara sat up, concerned, her hair washer reaching forward to wring her hair as best she could as water streamed down Katara’s back from her heavy wet hair. But Katara ignored it. “Aang?” she asked anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

Aang turned towards Madam Uriko, holding the cone up in his fingers. “How did this get here?!” He shook it once angrily at her. “This doesn’t belong here!”

Katara was unaccustomed to seeing Aang this heated. He was notoriously even-tempered, and almost never lost his cool. To see Aang this upset alarmed Katara. “Aang?!”

Aang finally turned his eyes toward his wife, anger burning behind them. “This belongs to the Air Nomads!” Aang declared furiously. “See!” Aang turned the cone over, revealing one air spiral symbol pressed into the bottom of the cone. Turning back towards Madam Uriko Aang’s voice nearly yelled, “You have no business having this!”

Madam Uriko stepped back, her expression now clearly daunted by Aang’s intensity. “I assure you, this comes from the palace stores…” she stammered, trying to keep her composure. “It’s been here from before I began working here… as a young woman… I assure you, we--”

Aang’s nose wrinkled in a snarl as he cut her off, “This belongs to the Air Nomads! This is… was… sacred to us!”

And with that Aang fisted the incense in his hand and stormed from the room, knocking the brass burner over with his arm and leaving everyone’s clothes rippling in a stiff wind left in his wake.

…………..

It was late when Katara finally heard the snap of Aang’s glider on the balcony of their guest room in the Fire Palace. The sun had set hours ago, and it was now late enough that the moon had nearly completed her arch across the sky and now hung low over the crest of the volcanic rim of the Caldera, sending her ghostly silver light sideways into their room.

Katara was lying in bed. But she hadn’t slept.

After Aang had stormed out of the Palace spa earlier this evening, Katara had run after him. But even as she had searched for Aang, Katara knew that trying to catch up with a fleeing airbender was futile. The best she could hope for would be to find him wherever he stopped.

Katara had checked with Appa first, but the bison was snoring lazily in his favorite place in the courtyard of the stables, undisturbed. Katara checked their room, the garden, and even the rooftop. No Aang. But Aang’s glider was gone, so Katara knew that the best she could do was wait for him to return.

Knowing this didn’t keep her from being irritated with her husband. And concerned, of course. Mostly concerned. Katara hadn’t seen Aang this upset in years, not since they were very young. She wondered what it was about the incense that had upset him enough to run like he was a child again?

She now lay quietly in their bed and waited as her husband crept noiselessly into their room, his footsteps silent. She watched his profile as he propped his staff carefully against the wall, and removed a satchel from his chest, setting it noiselessly on the ground. The moon’s iridescent glow was on his back, his face in shadow.

“Aang…?”

His shadow stilled.

“I’m sorry, Katara. I’d hoped you were asleep.”

Katara let out a breath from the darkness inside their room. Did he really think she could sleep without knowing where he was and that he was okay? Had twenty years of marriage taught him nothing?

Aang spoke softly from just inside the doorway, his face still in shadowy profile. “I’m sorry I left so rudely this evening. And I’m sorry it is so late…”

Katara wasn’t angry anymore, well not very angry anyway, mostly just concerned. His apologies were secondary to his wellbeing to her at the moment. But she didn’t say anything, sensing that he wasn’t finished.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to those women doing their jobs at the spa either. I’ll return tomorrow and apologize.”

Something in his voice told Katara that as sincere as his words were, there was a much heavier burden behind them. But he didn’t say anything more. Just stood there facing the darkness, the light of the moon highlighting the blue line on the back of his head, making it look almost silver.

“I just needed some time to… uh, to work through some things.” Aang finally turned towards her, the light now illuminating half of his face. Katara caught her breath at the sadness in expression. Despite the shimmering moonlight, no light danced in Aang’s eye as it usually did. Instead his eyes looked at her with a dark forlorn blackness.

“Oh Aang,” Katara murmured as she pushed the blankets off of her and swept over to him in the darkness, her bare feet cold on the polished floor. “I’ve just been worried. Where were you?”

“I, uh, flew north for a while. Found a small island. Really small. Almost all rocks. I just needed some space to, um… to…”

“Meditate?”

“… well… I did some of that too...” Aang looked down and to the side, a little sheepishly. “But I might have spent most of the time breaking things. Throwing around fire and rocks to cool off a bit.”

Aang looked at her penitently. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run off. I shouldn’t have worried you.”

“Oh Aang, I don’t need anymore apologies.” Katara reached up with her warm hand to touch his face in concern. “But please, let me know how I can help you. Why were you so upset? Why do you look so… so sad?”

Aang brought his hand up between them, opening to reveal the small incense cone from earlier lying benignly on his palm.

“This,” Aang spoke softly, his shoulders slumping, as though the burden of a nation weighed on him.

Katara swallowed a lump in her own throat, remembering that it did.

Katara reached forward, picking up the small pressed cone with her fingers. She ran the pad of her forefinger over the small air swirl stamped into the bottom of it before looking back up at him. “What is it Aang? You said it belonged to the Air Nomads?”

“Yes.” Aang’s brow creased and he took a steadying breath before he continued, trying to explain. “This incense is something I haven’t smelled in… well since before. But it’s a scent I will never forget. One I thought I would never smell again.”

Aang took the incense from Katara, and with a snap of his fingers a flare of yellow heat illuminated their faces for a moment as he lit the end of it. They both watched as a tiny stream of smoke began to trail upward in lazy loops, filling the space with the rich aroma of cedar resin and cardamom, and with a fragrance unnamed but potent, both light and substantial, like the air and the mountains themselves.

“This smell is unmistakable for me.” Aang said as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his brow softening in memory. “The monks lit this incense during the Ceremony of Mastership. I was wrapped in this scent for ten days while Master Dun and his assistants bestowed my tattoos. Breathing this incense helped fortify me through the, uh, difficult parts of the ceremony; it deepened my meditation.”

Aang swirled a hand lightly above the incense, airbending the smoke into an upward spiral, his eyes unfocused, drifting into the past. “Of course I knew the smell before I ever got my own tattoos. It was part of the ceremony we all participated in to unveil a newly tattooed Master Airbender. Wisps of it were often in the air of my childhood.” A small smile appeared on Aang’s cheek. “But that day… when I got my own tattoos… this smell meant belonging. It was completion. It was a connection to the spirit of Air itself, a bond I shared with all the other Masters.”

Katara watched her husband carefully, her heart throbbing with the pain of knowing that even Aang’s happiest memories were so often undercut with grief.

Aang let out a long breath, relaxing just a bit. “The tattooing ceremony was one of the most spiritual events in my life – back in a time when I knew nothing about being the Avatar; when my greatest aspiration in life was to be a monk, simple and at peace. I tasted that future that day, that peace.”

Katara ached as his shoulders sagged once more and he said quietly, “Of course it didn’t last…”

Aang sighed, looking down at the incense. “I thought this was lost, just like so many parts of my culture. I’m trying to be grateful to have this at all…”

He hesitated. So Katara prompted him, “But?”

“But sometimes I just miss them so much…”

Aang looked sadly into Katara’s eyes. “I would never want you to think that I’m not happy with our life together – I am! Our family, the kids, you in my life, is better than I could ever have asked for.”

Katara took his hand, “But that doesn’t change what you’ve lost, Sweetie. It doesn’t make it all better.”

Aang swallowed, and nodded. “Sometimes I forget. I don’t think about them for a while. Just live in the moment. It’s easier that way. Then it doesn’t hurt so much. I can just move on with my life. Sometimes I believe that I really have moved past it.” He smiled again, despite the wetness in his eyes. “Sometimes it feels like it was all a dream anyway, like my childhood was someone else’s… like maybe it wasn’t even real.”

Aang stood silently for a moment, before looking back down at the incense in his hand. “But when I smelled this today, it all came back to me in an instant. Like I was there again! And they were there, and we were worshipping and celebrating together.” Aang’s face crumpled in grief, his voice a whisper. “For a split second they were all alive again.”

Katara’s heart lurched for Aang, but before she could touch him Aang’s anguish suddenly turned to anger, his face scowling as his words cut out fiercely. “But who knew that all this time our ceremonial incense has been used as ambiance for our, our murderer’s bathhouse!?”

Katara took a surprised step back as Aang’s hand fisted tightly around the incense, his hand turning hotly to flame and crushing the little cone.

“That they used it as perfume for when they bedded their concubines!?”

The flame danced angrily in his eyes as he seethed.

But Aang extinguished the flame, letting it die as quickly as it had flared, the anger in his face dissipating with it, replaced by that same dark sadness.

“What does this,” Aang looked sadly down at the smoking ash in his hand, “teach us about about Sozin’s destruction of the Air Nomads?” A large tear rolled down Aang’s cheek as he closed his eyes tightly. “That apparently Sozin liked how we smelled when we burned.”

A sob caught in Katara’s throat as she scrubbed at the tears she hadn’t realized were falling down her own face. Katara pushed down her own temper that was threatening to flare. One thing she had learned over the course of their marriage, was that when one of them was struggling, the other needed to be strong. And she needed to be calm and strong if she was to help Aang today. Otherwise, she knew him, and he would feel the need to focus on her. But this was all about him right now.

She reached for Aang, wrapping her arms around him. After a moment, Aang grasped her tightly back, bowing his head to lay his chin over her shoulder.

He shook; and so did she. Crying together for the disgrace and tragedy and uselessness of it all.

“Oh Aang,” Katara whispered into his neck, compassion welling within her. She pulled him closer to her, even as a sob shuddering through his body as he gripped her, holding onto Katara as if to remind himself that not _everyone_was gone, he hadn’t lost it all.

“I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to hate them.”

Katara nodded against him. “I know, Aang.”

It’s easy to do nothing. It’s hard to forgive. Words that Aang had spoken to her long ago. And Aang didn’t just spout these words — he lived them. Katara had seen how Aang had chosen forgiveness, over and over again, even-- no especially-- when it was hard.

What many people mistakenly thought -- even herself, before the end of the war -- was that forgiveness came naturally for Aang, or that somehow it was easier for him. But after years of living with this good man, what she had come to learn is that forgiveness was only easier for him because he practiced it all the time. He believed it in, and worked at it everyday.

But sometimes it was still hard.

Katara held him tighter, telling him through her embrace that he is not alone, and that she is here. That she bears this burden with him.

Forgiveness was hard, but he didn’t have to do it alone.

……………

Katara inhaled deeply. She didn’t need to look around at the many smoking burners lining the back of the ceremonial hall to know that the incense was there. The smell was incredible! Enveloping the entire room in its fragrance like the embrace of a supportive friend.

It had been ten years since Aang had disconcertedly discovered that for generations the Fire Nation royalty had been using the Air Nomad’s sacred incense in their palace spa. Although Zuko, Aang and Katara had all tired their best to uncover how the royal family had gotten a hold of the incense in the first place, they were never able to find anything conclusive. Procurement of a conquered people’s incense was apparently not significant enough to merit any documentation.

However, with the help of a surprisingly accommodating Madam Uriko, they were able to study the remaining cones and records in the spa stores. Apparently the royal chandler during the early period of Azulon’s rule, had studied the incense himself, and written out his own recipe. It was likely that the modern cones in the spa had not been made by Air Nomads at all, but had been replicates made by chandler himself. Katara and Aang had wondered in length together about why the royal chandler would continue to include the air nomad symbol on the bottom of each incense cone he made – perhaps he had done it as his own small rebellion against the Fire Nation’s campaigns? Or perhaps he had wanted to keep record of the incense cultural roots? Or perhaps he had just done it to more authentically mimic the original? – there was no way to know. But Aang liked to think that perhaps the chandler had known an Air Nomad personally, perhaps had lost a friend, and maybe he included the symbol in memory of what was lost.

The discovery of the chandler’s recipe had been an incredible find for Aang. He and the acolytes had worked hard to replicate the recipe, and now were fully capable of making their own incense. A scent Aang had thought was lost to time and tragedy, was now a viable part of the new Air Nation’s culture once again!

And now it was time to finally use it for its original purpose. Tenzin was being unveiled a Master Airbender today!

The anointment was a big day for Tenzin; big enough that Kya had delayed leaving on an extended trip she had planned, and Bumi had even taken leave from his service in the United Republic of Nations so he could be present.

However, important event or not, Katara had had to roll her eyes at her grown children’s antics. It seemed that the act of simply stepping foot back on Air Temple Island caused Bumi to reverted from ‘distinguished soldier’ to ‘annoying older brother’ instantly. Even though no one except Aang and his tattooing assistants had been allowed to see Tenzin since his Ceremony of Mastership had begun ten days previous, this hadn’t stopped Bumi from teasing Tenzin from through the closed door. He would gleefully call in suggestions to his dad about how to modify Tenzin’s tats to be a little more interesting. It didn’t help that Aang would flippantly play along, before seeming to remember that this was a sacred ceremony, and finally tell Bumi to get lost.

In addition to bothering his younger brother, Bumi had also taken to flirting with Kya’s girlfriend. While this was mildly amusing to Katara, it was seriously beginning to irritate Kya. Katara tried to remind Kya that Bumi flirted with everyone, while also sternly admonishing Bumi to cool it.

As much as Katara loved having everyone together again, she had to admit that keeping harmony in her small family of strong personalities was harder than it looked. Where was the docile, peacemaking child they so desperately needed? Whenever she would ask, Aang would only stifle a smile and raise his hands in surrender, jokingly claiming that he was not the one to blame for their children’s temperaments! And as exasperated as she might feel, Katara had to laugh at herself, knowing that he wasn’t wrong.

In preparation for the tattooing ceremony, Aang had called in two different tattoo artists – one from the earth kingdom and one from the fire nation, both reportedly the best tattooist in their perspective nations – to help teach Aang how to give Tenzin his tattoos. As Tenzin had neared the end of his training, Aang had admitted to Katara that just being ‘the Last Airbender’ didn’t automatically make him an expert on all Airbender skills. “Giving someone their tattoos is very different than being on the other side of the needle, Katara!” he had worried out loud. The closer Tenzin had gotten to mastership, the more nervous Aang got about how to bestow his tattoos. It was Katara who had suggested he ask for help.

After consulting with the tattoo experts, Aang had told Katara later that although their methods were different than what the Air Nomads had done over a hundred years ago, they seemed to understand enough of the process to take the details and tools he remembered and turn them into a working process. One of them even offered to give Tenzin his tattoos herself. Aang had declined, but expressed how grateful he was for to them for teaching him how.

The night before the commencement of Tenzin’s Ceremony of Mastership, Katara didn’t know who was more anxious: Tenzin or Aang? They were both bundles of nerves, but expressed their apprehension in characteristically different ways: Tenzin tried to hide his concern behind stoic meditation, while Aang couldn’t hold still, needing to “take a little run around the island” about ten times before bedtime.

When Aang had come in to bed the first night after beginning Tenzin’s tattoos, the smell of incense strong on his clothes and body, Katara had asked how it had gone. “I got better at it as the day went on.” Aang had replied. Then with a self-depreciating chuckle he added, “Hopefully nobody will look too closely at the back of Tenzin’s thigh…”

But the process had gone better from there, and ten days later, Katara now sat with Bumi and Kya on cushions near the front of the ceremonial room on Air Temple Island awaiting Tenzin’s anointing.

Katara was immensely proud of Tenzin, and all of his studious hard work. She knew he was aware of the burden he was born with, and in some ways she was sorry to have her son shouldering such a responsibility, but she was proud of the way he took it seriously. She knew Aang worried that Tenzin was ‘too serious’, but Katara, as a serious student of her own bending art, could not be more proud of his diligence and discipline.

Katara had often reflected on the irony that, of her three children, the one that was the least silly and carefree, the one who was a homebody with the seeming least amount of nomadic drive, was the one born with airbending. She’d wondered if perhaps it was meant to be; that airbending could be a way for Tenzin and his father to bond, when their personalities were so singularly opposite.

But as her mind wandered over these thoughts a hush fell over the audience, and she turned to see Aang and Tenzin, wearing a long hooded cloak, walk into the room and down the center aisle to the raised dais. Tears pricked at Katara’s eyes as the tall hooded form of her youngest son knelt reverently at the center of the stage. She looked at her husband, dressed in a formal yellow robe not unlike the one he had worn to Zuko’s coronation, and, catching his eye, noted that Aang’s eyes were also moist with emotion.

Katara cried for most of the ceremony. The image of Tenzin removing his hood to reveal a new blue arrow on his forehead brought a loud sob from her. Kya reached an arm over her shoulders, while Bumi refrained from being irreverent (which was more than Katara would have expected from him). From then on the rest of the ceremony was one big tear-clouded blur.

But the smell of the burning incense was potent and clear, and got even stronger as she felt it swirl around her, ruffling her clothes and inciting the song of the many wind chimes hung throughout the room.

Katara drank in the aroma carried on the wind. Despite the way the incense had found its way back to Aang, Katara couldn’t help but be grateful for this piece of Aang’s culture, of her family’s culture, that had been restored. Aang had admitted to Katara that although for a long time it had bothered him that his people’s sacred incense had been dishonored, he was grateful it had been. At least this way it had been preserved.

Katara breathed in deeply, taking in this scent that was both ancient and new. And something powerful stirred with in her.

Perhaps it was the power of the scent in the air, coupled with the way the wind chimes sang, but as Katara closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, she felt a spiritual tingling across her body, as though they were not alone. Like perhaps the energy of the Air Nomads, the ancestors of her children, were there and rejoicing with them as the first airbender in well over a hundred years, was anointed a Master.

…………….

A/N: I don’t know about you, but sometimes the smell of something can bring back very vivid memories/emotion for me. That was the genesis for this story.

(P.S. Also, I really do have a bald friend who loves getting hair washes. ;)

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Other works in this series:

Chant

Artifacts

#older Aang #older kataang #kataang family #air nomad genocide #katara POV #Aang #the last airbender #ALTA #avatar the last airbender #best boy aang #forgiving is hard #hair wash fic #incense fic #tenzin's tattoos #angry aang #aang's tattoos #air nomads #false fire nation propaganda

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