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winedarkthoughts · 7 months ago

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house of addams (6)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 5.5k

— 🍄 summary: desperate times call for morally grey measures.

— ☕ content warnings: stalking (but it's mutual??), taking photos without consent (also mutual), slight lore dump, mentions of death/decomposition/missing persons

— 🕸️ a/n: thank you so much to everyone who continues to share their thoughts i love y'all so much!!

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chpt. 6: don't stalk, investigate

october 19, 2004

The trees surrounding the university are starting to brown at the edges. Fall has begun its descent.

The click of the camera shutter has become white noise to you. Through the viewfinder, you follow the motion of the mop of black hair.

You've found that that's how he starts almost all of his mornings: messily, sleepily. More often than not, his hair is just-rolled-out-of-bed fluffy, the lower half of his face covered with a black mask so you can only see his cat-like eyes.

He looks good today, wearing a loose white button-up and silver jewelry. He approaches the university with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, still clearly half-asleep.

Yoongi is not a morning person, you've learned. You know because you've been watching him.

Listen, you never claimed to be a saint. And yes, maybe half the reason that you're a damn good private investigator is because you're willing (and perfectly capable) of doing the things that others would rather not.

So be it. You've witnessed others commit far worse evils than the one you're currently undertaking.

Long story short, your mental blockade with the case (and whatever the fuck happened at the lake) may or may not have caused you to look into some of the strange characters frequenting Farrow's End. Starting with the shy, antisocial botanist.

The fact that he supposedly lived in the Addams house (according to the commentary from the college students) wasn't the thing that made you suspicious, it was the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. Pretended to know absolutely nothing about it, to boot.

As a human being, you can respect someone keeping their secrets. As a private investigator, your job is to dig up any secrets that prove relevant to your investigation.

Half of you wants to believe that he's nothing but a good guy. You can admit that you like him, that you relate to his aura as the token "weirdo." But the cynical part of you, it whispers in your ear that he shouldn't be trusted.

No one should. Your job has taught you that much.

Therefore, you have to exhaust each point of view until you find out who's guilty, and who's less guilty. Because pure innocence is impractical.

And after what you saw (or think you saw) at the lake, you're going to have to gear your research towards less "scientific" topics. And try to avoid the woods at all costs. For the time being, at least.

On most days, Yoongi begins his days early, and mostly on-campus. It didn't take long to witness him being transported by the same black Mercedes that you saw outside the cafe, the one supposedly belonging to one of the mysterious Jungs.

Though Yoongi never enters the car in heavily populated areas. He usually walks a short distance to a more private spot, and then the car pulls up like clockwork.

You can never get a good look at the driver, thanks to the tinted windows.

So far, the only suspicious thing about the botanist is the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. He goes to class, goes to his labs, gets coffee, goes home, with very little in-between.

Well, that plus spending a large amount of his time on campus with one specific chemist. And it doesn't take much longer to realize that he lives at the Addams house too.

Jimin, unlike Yoongi, is often late. He gets dropped off by the same sleek car, a short distance away from his destination, then he power walks to wherever he's going, fluffing and preening himself along the way.

Whether it's a hand brushing through his hair, or a knuckle pushing up the bridge of his glasses (which he never leaves the house without), or him adjusting the collar of his shirt, he's almost always fixing himself.

Sometimes, you get the impression that he isn't comfortable in his own skin.

He has a few other signatures: those heeled boots, pants that are almost always too tight for your liking, glasses (either tinted or completely dark), and always a mask covering his mouth. That, or sometimes an oversized scarf pulled up to just under his nose when it's particularly chilly outside, the wind rustling his hair and it's oddly shifting color.

You've taken to wearing one of your smaller cameras around your neck at all times, just in case you run into anything suspicious and need to snap a picture.

The morning mist has deepened into a constant drizzle most mornings, and that leather jacket you bought at Magic Shop has come in particularly handy. The garment is warm and cozy, and it always gives you a feeling of comfort whenever you wear it.

Fine, so maybe following Yoongi and Jimin didn't yield the results you wanted, though you'll admit it was fun. Still, something is telling you that there's something suspicious about that house and those who reside in it.

So you move on to another lead: Kim Taehyung.

He rarely leaves the house, you've found. So you have to conclude that he lives there as well as works there. When he does leave, it's on official business. Either to go to the police station to pick up documents or out of town to examine a body.

He doesn't ride in the Mercedes, though. Rather, he drives a classic black hearse. Again, peak dedication to the aesthetic, which you can appreciate.

And fine, maybe you snapped a few pictures of him on the rare times you caught him out of the house, but it's all for the sake of the investigation.

At first, you were quite hesitant to get too close to the house on the hill, with its looming trees and black birds hovering all about the roof.

But one day, when you creep up the path, the front gate opens on its own to welcome you. You were planning on scraping along the outside of the gate, peering into the yard through the iron bars. You weren't expecting it to actually open for you.

A gust of wind surges through the air, pulling you towards the house. The rustle of the trees practically whispers come closer.

It takes you a little bit aback, but you don't show it. Just in case someone is watching. In fact, you barely react to it, simply sidestepping the gate entrance and continuing along the path as if you were on a morning walk.

You walk along the entire perimeter of the gated yard, which is much, much larger than you anticipated. There are a number of gardens, a small hedge maze, a swamp even, and at the very edge of the property, a graveyard.

The tombstones are dotted throughout the wooded grove, a thick layer of ivy covering the ground like a burial shroud, and an air of calm hangs about the place.

But it isn't until you circle back to the other side of the house that you see something you truly weren't expecting: Jin, your favorite barista, strolling through the garden with a cup and saucer in his hands.

Wearing a turtleneck under a black coat, his hair blowing picturesquely in the chill wind, he meanders past the crumbling stone statues and trickling fountains.

You quickly duck behind a tree, reaching into your jacket to grab the small binoculars that you typically carry when you're in the..."observation" phase of the investigation. No, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this sort of thing.

Jin leisurely walks over the cobblestone pathway, sipping from his cup with a satisfied expression. He'll run a hand through his hair or lean against one of the stone garden walls, looking over his shoulder every once in a while.

And maybe it's just a hunch, but you get the sense that he knows that he's being watched. The weird thing is that he doesn't seem bothered by the fact at all. In fact, it almost looks like he's...posing.

An itch at the back of your neck. A glance back at Jin tells you that he's not looking at you, nor has he realized that you're there. But still, now you feel eyes on you.

You look around but find nothing but white-barked trees. And maybe if you looked a little closer you would've noticed that the knots in said trees look a little too much like eyes, open and alert.

Even if you had noticed such a thing, your conscience would tell you that obviously that's not the case. Trees can't watch people.

You'd be wrong, of course, but how could you have known that then?

october 23, 2004

He only ever works nights. The graveyard shift, to be specific. His shift always starts after the sun has set, and it ends just before it rises again.

Normally, you'd split your time between the cafe and the bookshop, but recently you've dedicated almost the entirety of your days to watching the barista and learning his habits. And in that time, you've hardly seen him eat.

In all the time you've spent watching him combined, the only things you've seen him eat include: a handful of olives, a few slices of bread and cheese, and the occasional spoonful of honey. Coffee and the offhand glass of red wine (which he pours into a teacup with a charming wink when he catches you watching him) is all you ever see him drink.

The only time he leaves the Addams house, besides to go to work, is on Saturday mornings when the Farmer's Market takes up the town square.

Sporting a checkered coat with the collar turned up to shield the lower half of his face, sunglasses (even though it's utterly cloudy), and an umbrella held over his head (even though it's not even drizzling), Jin scours the aisles, scrutinizing each booth's wares to find only the freshest and best quality produce, meats, and bread. He also procures some fancy cheese and preserves, his tastes expensive and well-refined.

The only other time you see him deviate from his routine is to visit the nearest hospital one afternoon. You're expecting him to enter into the waiting room, but he circles around the back, waiting by a STAFF ONLY door.

That same tickle from somewhere in your brain, the one that makes your eyes a little blurry. You take a moment to refocus them, and then you see the door crack open.

The person behind the door hands Jin an object that he quickly conceals in his coat, and the interaction is too quick for you to see what exactly it is.

But not quick enough for you to miss taking a picture. Because you've learned that it's always best to prioritize the camera before your eyes.

You take it to the dark room that same day. And the film reveals that the object appears to be a plain white box. Your guess is that it's a thermal container, the ones used to transport samples or the like.

It's a bit embarrassing to admit that it takes another day to put two and two together.

You're sitting in the cafe, skimming through the files of the five missing persons, when Jin approaches your booth and silently places a pastry on the table.

It's another one of his habits, you've noticed. Whenever you're in the cafe and have gone a long time without ordering any food, he'll subtly bring you something without a word, and you're usually too focused on your research to notice until some time has passed and it's too late to reject the offer.

You've told him several times that though the gesture is appreciated, he doesn't need to provide you with any freebies just because you're in here all the time. But he just brushes you off and claims that he needs a taste tester for his new recipes.

You let it slide after telling yourself that he probably does the same to a number of other customers given his charming nature (though in all the time you've observed him he's never done it for any other patron, but that you conveniently ignore).

This time it's a little cake, topped with a strawberry and absolutely smothered in fresh cream. When you cut into it, red jam spills from the inside of the cake like blood from a wound.

Then it finally clicks.

...Blood.

Like a slideshow in fast motion, all of the little details spring back into the forefront of your mind. The time when you noticed his shirtsleeve riding up, revealing a faded scar distinctly resembling a bite mark on the inside of his wrist. The time you noticed him drinking from a to-go coffee cup, but with a ring of red surrounding the opening in the lid.

And at the hospital, a thermal container used to transport samples such as blood bags, or even human organs.

Fuck.

You push the dessert away at the realization, scrambling to gather your things and leave the cafe as quickly as possible.

Of course, that means you miss the concerned and slightly disappointed look on Jin's face as he watches you go.

october 24, 2004

You don't know what makes you more of an idiot, the fact that you're actually close to believing that Jin is some sort of blood-sucking creature of the night, or the fact that it took you this long to consider the fact based on all the warning signs.

Unfortunately, nothing is impossible. And though none of your investigations so far have pointed to something so overtly "supernatural," you have to entertain the possibility.

Because it's possible that something about it could trace back to one or more of the victims, since clearly this case has proven to be far from normal.

Though the internet is a great resource, currently all you can find is blog posts, and you'd prefer not to cite those when it comes to professional matters. So you turn to local folklore, urban legends, and the security of the written word.

When you enter the bookshop the next day, you realize just how broad of a topic it is. There are hundreds, even thousands of mythical creatures across different cultures. It's going to take a long time to factor out one with the right features and track it's roots.

Then you remember the man behind the counter. Namjoon is currently staring at the mass of papers on his desk, looking confused and frustrated.

"What's all that?" you ask as you approach the counter.

"My accounts. Balancing my checkbook," he replies without looking up from the mess.

"Ah," you say in understanding, in pity.

A pause.

"Want a distraction?" you finally ask, and his head whips up almost instantly.

"Dear God, yes."

You chuckle, moving to lean against the desk.

"You're a writer, right?"

"Yes," he answers with a nod.

"What kind of things do you write?"

"Mostly research papers, some articles here and there, a few field guides."

Hmm, so he's more of a scholar, then. Interesting.

"In what area of study?"

Namjoon's mouth twitches like he's trying to find the right words.

"Folklore," he finally answers, but obviously there's a little more to it.

Perfect. You bite back the urge to rock on your toes with excitement.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

He smiles at that, dimples and all, like nothing would delight him more.

"Of course, anything you want," he answers, voice curling around the edges.

And you don't know it, but he means it sincerely. He would tell you anything and everything about him and his little family if you would only ask.

Any of them would, really. Technically, none of them have ever lied to you, they just haven't share all the information.

And if Namjoon is being honest, all of them are quite eager for you to get a little more invasive and figure them out for yourself.

"What do you know about mythological creatures that feed on life energy?"

You didn't mean for it to come out so specific, so incriminating. But you're getting a little tired of questions without a ghost of an answer.

His eyebrows raise a bit.

"To be honest with you, my knowledge is limited mainly to the folklore of this region," he admits, sounding apologetic.

Even more perfect. You try not to give away too much of your excitement, despite the fact that every time you encounter him he only seems to get better and better.

"Pray tell," you urge, leaning forward slightly with open ears.

A little bashful expression crosses his face as he settles deeper in his chair, all thoughts of taxes abruptly thrust aside.

"Well, vampiric creatures are quite common across folklore in many cultures. They're usually associated with outbreaks of disease, and vampire hunts are mostly accompanied with epidemics..."

You let him talk for as long as he wants, listening eagerly and only looking away to scribble a few notes from time to time. It's clear that he's passionate about what he studies, speaking about it like a lover would.

He tells you that even the word "vampire" is shrouded in mystery, as linguists do not know the precise etymological origin. Apparently, the folklore of this region is steeped in Slavic roots, so that's what he focuses on to narrow it down for you.

From the Old East Slavic language, the term "vampire" hails from the word "upir," which is speculated to translate as "someone who bites" or "the thing at the feast/sacrifice," though the word has no definite origin.

Namjoon tells you that scholars agree that the term was used as a stand-in, since they were too afraid to say the creature's true name.

"An upir needs to feed on life essence to survive. In literature, this is usually represented by drinking blood, since it represents life," Namjoon explains.

"Usually?"

He shrugs.

"The "opir" in Ukraine consumes large amounts of fish as their source of sustenance, preferences vary across cultures."

"You speak of it like they're real," you say with a chuckle, watching closely for his reaction.

Another shrug, this one more uncomfortable.

"To the Slavs, they were. The universal belief in supernatural beings was common. Unseen entities were part of the way they understood the world," he says.

"Hmm," you mumble, scanning him up and down. You try not to delight in the way he squirms slightly under your scrutiny.

"Most of the traits attributed to vampires these days are based on myths, or downright misunderstandings," Namjoon blurts out. "Like how the outbreak of rabies in Europe led to the belief that the upir are afraid of light, which is ridiculous. Many of the symptoms of rabies, which is spread through biting, coincide with the supposed traits of vampires, like the fear of light and altered sleep patterns."

He says it all like he's slightly annoyed.

"Or how they assumed that the upir are undead because during decomposition, built up pressure can push the blood into a corpse's mouth," he continues.

"So the upir aren't undead at all?" you probe.

"No, it's just a misconception," Namjoon replies like he's in the throes of a heated debate.

He seems to notice, since the next moment he's clearing his throat awkwardly and slumping in his seat.

There's a moment of silence as you jot down some more notes.

"They're not evil," he blurts out like he can't help it, and the look on his face implores you to believe him.

You look up at him.

"Across the centuries, they've always been used as the scapegoat for things humans can't understand," he adds softly.

Hmm, yes that seems to be a recurrent theme in human history.

You close your notebook and straighten up from leaning on the desk.

"Very interesting. Thank you, Namjoon," you say and mean it.

He smiles and nods as if to say of course, but after your back is turned, his face falls a bit, wondering if he let a little too much slip.

"Too much? In my opinion, you didn't tell her enough," Jimin quips.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, but he's mainly focused on Jin. The older man only smiles at him, pressing a comforting hand to Namjoon's cheek.

"Don't worry, love. I don't mind at all," he says. Because yes, he too is eager for you to realize just what they all are.

"I just don't want her to think we're the ones behind all this," Namjoon admits.

"If she's as smart as she appears, then she'll figure that out for herself soon enough," Hoseok replies, slowly circling the room with his arms crossed.

He approaches the elegant leather couch that Namjoon and Jin are occupying.

"Joonie," he says, running a hand down the younger man's neck.

"I don't think it would hurt to drop her a few more hints, hm?" And everyone notices the smirk on Hoseok's face.

"I'm tired of waitiiiiing," Jimin whines.

"She's still a skeptic, Minie," Yoongi supplies from where he's watering the plants against the window. "She needs to be eased in."

Jimin just rolls his eyes.

"We could just kidnap her," he suggests.

"No." The reply comes instantly from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi simultaneously.

Jimin laughs high and bright.

"Come now, Jimin," Hoseok says with a sharp smile of his own. "Everyone knows it's more fun when they consent to it first."

october 25, 2004

The next time you enter the bookshop, Namjoon immediately mentions that he put together a little collection of texts for you to look over, saying they might be interesting to you. Maybe even aid in the investigation.

You thank him earnestly. And no, your face doesn't heat up at the fact that someone has gone out of their way to make your life easier.

When you slip into your usual nook, you notice that one of the drawers in the desk is adorned with a little pink ribbon around the handle, almost like it's gift-wrapped. And when you open it, you see several books, articles, and newspaper clippings, all of which seem very promising.

Something stirs in your stomach at the sight, but it's quickly set aside as you lock in and dive headfirst into the new research endeavor.

There's the notice for each of the missing persons, all the mentions of them so far in the newspapers, including one article from a publisher you've never heard of.

With the headline simple reading DISAPPEARED, the short snippet describes each missing person and the details of their last eyewitness account. The strange thing is that the article includes far more details than the big-name publishers, making you wonder why you haven't heard of it before.

The Periscope Press. You don't recall seeing it in any of the corner stores around town, but you do recall some of the people you interviewed mentioning details from "the newspaper" that you hadn't heard previously. Maybe this is the publisher they were referring to.

When you ask Namjoon about it though, he is surprisingly unhelpful. He claims that he can't remember where he came across the article, saying that he often picks up stray newspapers for wrapping and packing purposes for the shop.

Well, you suppose you'll have to save it for later then.

Also among the pile of papers in the drawer, there's a short blurb announcing the opening of the Kim Morgue and Crematorium. Taking a closer look at the date tells you that Taehyung's practice has actually been passed down through nearly three generations.

Technically, Taehyung is actually Taehyung III, taking the same name as his father and grandfather and great-grandfather before him.

But it's the photo you stumble upon that really stalls your breath.

A portrait, faded and yellowing, dated almost seventy-five years ago. The subject is a man dressed in a brown suit and tie, his hair dark and curly, except it looks exactly like him. From the Roman slant of his nose, down to the way he positions his shoulders, it looks almost indistinguishable from the Taehyung of today. The family resemblance is apparently very strong.

And again, it's a little embarrassing how long it takes you to reach the conclusion that to others, especially to the supernaturally-inclined, might seem obvious.

But you've already mentioned that you're a bit of a skeptic.

october 28, 2004

You fear that you may be going a bit crazy.

The dreams are getting worse. They've escalated from simple images and sounds to corporeal sensations. You feel the water so sharply, the cold, the current, even the vibrations. You can see hands reaching towards you, and sometimes you are compelled to reach back. Sometimes you swear you wake up smelling of seawater.

And the itchy feeling of being watched has only gotten stronger. You feel as though you're always looking over your shoulder, always listening for following footsteps.

In the past few days, you've used your research as an effective distraction.

You've found that the Kim family has run the morgue out of the Addams house for almost as long as the Jung family has owned it, Taehyung hailing from a long line of coroners and forensic pathologists rooted in Farrow's End.

With a little digging, you discovered that the Jungs have been business tycoons for decades, buying and selling and trading their vast number of industries to generate a near endless stream of income that they then hand down to their children and children's children.

Unfortunately, most of the knowledge on the Jung family is circulated through the townsfolk, so you have to ask around a bit to get a more solid basis.

The current owner of the Addams house is one Jung Hoseok. Young, beautiful, and filthy rich, according to those you spoke with on the streets. But, apparently he spent most of his youth in a mental hospital. Not only a mental hospital, a high-security facility for the criminally insane.

Now, you're not sure how much of that you believe, but you still have to entertain the possibility.

And one day, you even catch sight of him. A small crowd tends to gather whenever the black Mercedes pulls into town, curious eyes prying into the tinted windows.

You're lingering outside the bookshop one afternoon, making sure you didn't leave anything behind after a four-hour-long research session, when the car rolls through the streets like a slinky black cat.

Whispers immediately fill the air, causing you to look up from your bag, which is bursting at the seams these days from all the papers you have to carry around.

The car stops at the curb in front of the cafe, the driver soon killing the engine. Then, the driver's side door opens, and a black-booted foot steps onto the sidewalk.

The man is handsome, you have to admit, with long black hair that curls at the nape of his neck. His face is sharp and angular, with a softly heart-shaped mouth and surprisingly bright eyes.

He's dressed in pressed pants and jacket, thin and elegant. The man walks into the cafe and picks up a to-go order, gets back into his car, and drives away without so much as a glance at all the people who have stopped to stare at him.

You being one of them, but you're fairly certain that you're the only one who takes a few pictures.

But it wasn't until yesterday that you started to really feel like you were losing your marbles.

As you're asking around town, you breach the subject of the town's forensic pathologist. Everyone you speak to has nothing but good things to say about the young coroner, except for the fact that he isn't as young as you thought he was.

You ask a woman you struck up a conversation with outside the grocery store about the Kim family, and she says that Taehyung did a fantastic job taking care of her nephew for his funeral.

You agree, mentioning your admiration for how educated he is for someone so young.

That's when the woman's face turns puzzled. "Young?" she says, raising an eyebrow. She goes on to say that the most recent Kim Taehyung has been running the morgue for the last twenty years.

"Taehyung III?" you ask. "Thin, dark eyes, looks a bit like a Roman statue?"

"Yes, that's the one. Took over the family business after his father died. But no children, I hear he's training a young apprentice that will likely take over when he retires."

You mention that surely Taehyung has time to have children, but that same confused expression crosses her face.

"Isn't he nearly seventy though?"

A squirmy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You awkwardly brush off the woman, apologizing for the confusion.

You ask almost every other passerby you see on the street that evening about the town coroner, and they all say the same thing. A kind man, very good at his job, and most definitely in his late sixties.

They all insist that there hasn't been a young Kim in the business since Taehyung was a trainee nearly thirty years prior.

So you do a little more digging, and turns out it's true. If you'd have looked a little closer at the dates on all of Taehyung's degrees and certificates, you'd find that he acquired them all between fifteen and twenty-five years ago.

You're tailing him the next morning. You got lucky, today being one of the rare days when he leaves the Addams house to go into town.

He steps out of the hearse in leather shoes and a sweater vest under his trenchcoat. You suppose he dresses like he's older, from the way he tucks in his shirt and cuffs his pants, but he also sports a crossbody bag over his shoulder that others would most likely consider feminine, but he pulls it off effortlessly.

The clouds are letting down a light rain, leaving dewdrops on your jacket and making Taehyung's hair appear just a bit fluffier.

There's that same streak of gray from his hairline. The only indicator that he possibly isn't an attractive man in his late twenties/early thirties.

But that's exactly what you're looking at. Not an older man with aged skin and silver hair, rather more like a bronze god with a mop of black curls. And the only sign of age from knowledge or experience is deep in his eyes.

You begin to follow him down the street, sneaking pictures occasionally, curious what would happen if you were to show said pictures to others. Would they still see an old man? Or would they see the young one you've been seeing from the beginning?

You get the odd sensation that you're being watched, but from a source you can't name, since you're fairly certain Taehyung hasn't noticed you.

It's as you're nearing the end of the sidewalk, slipping in-between a cluster of people, that he suddenly stops dead in his tracks.

You stop too, a cold chill latching onto your spine. He stands there for a moment, perfectly still.

Then, he turns over his shoulder and looks right at you.

There haven't been many times in your career where you're genuinely shocked speechless. And even fewer when your target is not only fully aware of the fact that you're trailing them, but apparently isn't bothered in the slightest by it.

Because then a smirk is creeping onto his face. Those tiger eyes turn a shade darker, and he nods his head slightly as if to greet you.

He knew you were watching him, they all did.

The ice under your skin only intensifies when you hear the click of a camera shutter from behind you.

Whipping around, you see Jung Hoseok standing just a few feet away, a camera held up to his face and the brim of his hat tilted down, but you know it's him.

And the lens is pointed at you.

What's strange is that no one else seems to notice him. Every other time you've seen him in town, everyone stops to stare, but now they slide around him like he isn't even there, their eyes looking right through him.

Something weird is definitely going on.

You dissolve back into the crowd like a ghost.

october 29, 2004

A letter appears on your doorstep. The stationary is soft and expensive-looking, with your name scrawled on the front in curling script. With no return address.

It's enclosed with a red wax seal, stamped with the image of a crow.

You debate on whether or not to open it for approximately three minutes.

Dearest _______,

We cordially invite you to the Addams House for dinner, dancing, and drinks on October 30 at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Please bring your case notes for discussion.

Dress code: semi-formal.

Fondly,

Jung Hoseok

The back of the paper reads:

How do you accept this invitation?

➳ With enthusiasm

➳ With excitement

You think about it for about thirty seconds. Circling "with enthusiasm," you slip the paper back into the envelope and set it back outside where you found it.

It's gone the next morning.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear any of your thoughts! 👉👈

#bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts fanfic #bts series #bts mystery #bts x fem!reader #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts poly au #bts poly x reader #bts fic

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suugarbabe · 6 months ago

Text

lovers lake | b.z. X reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: nudity, smut, intercourse mentioned

a.n: this is for week 2 of jinxed July; night swim; @thatdammchickennugget @finalgirllx <3

Burning wood had always been a favorite smell of yours. You couldn’t quite explain why, you didn’t grow up in farmland or with any major rural land area around you. You were city through and through, but something about the smell of a bonfire made your soul tingle with satisfaction. It probably also helped that you were surrounded by some of your favorite people on a secluded area of lakeland with your guys’ own private cabin where you were participating in the usual debauchery that your little group usually entangled themselves with.

Currently you were watching three drunken fools (read Mattheo, Enzo and Theo) try and create a three person pyramid because Draco bet them that they couldn’t do it. “Berkshire, you bloody fucking idiot, of course you cannot be the top of the pyramid, look at your shoulders, you’re bottom material!” Mattheo had his hands pointing down at the sand next to where Theo was already on all fours, “Yeah, c’mon Enz, embrace your true calling. We all know you’re a bottom.” Theo sent him a playful wink and Enzo shot him the finger, “Yeah, fuck you both. I can score any person I want and you guys can barely score those inside the same house as you.”

Enzo continued his grumbling and he crawled down onto the sand next to his lanky counterpart. Mattheo’s drunken grin grew only wider as he started to climb on top of the pair, a hand on each one of their inner shoulders and what you could only assume was his boney knees digging into their backs from the groans and grumbles. “Oi, will you two shut up? Hey! Someone take a picture!” You rolled your eyes, grabbing the camera and standing up, “Alright, boys, say cheese!” The three cheese’d in unison before a ‘mysterious’ gust of wind had them tumbling down in a tangle of limbs.

“You’re dead, Malfoy. Get your pale ass over here! Oh, no don’t go hiding behind your girlfriend, you think I won’t get to you cause Parkinson is there,” Theo’s voice was growing quieter despite him shouting. Your fingers laced with Blaise’s as you pulled him down the back steps of the cabin and closer toward the lake. “Where are you taking me, good lookin?” Blaise’s voice was smooth like velvet as his eyes lazily watched your form drag him down to the beach. Your toes hit the cool sand, a nice contrast from earlier in the day, “I was getting kind of bored of the fire, fancied a swim. Do you fancy one, too, B?”

Blaise quickened his pace, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up by your middle, a small giggle emitting from your throat. “Oh, a swim, huh, you fancy a swim is it darling? What kind of swim hmm?” Blaise let you down near the edge of the water, arms still encircling your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I was thinking…maybe…the skinny kind?” Blaise’s eyebrows shot up, “You wanna go skinny dipping in the lake?” You bit your lip as you nodded, “Is that bad? Do you wanna do it? Yes or no, hmm?” Blaise gripped your hips a little rougher, “You know I can’t say no to you.” You dropped your arms from his neck, instead gripping the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, I was counting on that.”

You turned your back to him them, pulling your shirt over your head before pulling your shorts and underwear off as well. Turning back to face him, now fully nude you smirked, “What’s taking you so long, Zabini? You joining me, or are you just gonna watch?” Blaise licked his lips as he watched your naked form walk backwards towards the lake, “You know I’m not opposed to watching.” You put on a playful pout,“C’mon, B, don’t make me go in alone, you can never say no, remember?” Your tone was teasing yet pleading. In a flash, Blaise was out of his clothes, his pace quickening to catch up with you. You turned, slightly sprinting towards the water as he ran to catch up with you.

Your feet splashed as you took larger steps into the water, you could hear Blaise right behind you as you dove into the lake. You tried to swim a little further out when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upward. You were laughing when you surfaced, Blaise’s now bare chest pressed against your back, his lips close to your neck, “Running away from me now hmm? Now what’s that all about?” You turned round in his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, “I just wanted to make sure you’d follow.”

Blaise hummed in response, his nose brushing against yours, “I’ll follow you anywhere, love.” You open your mouth to respond but never get the chance as his lips crash into yours, one of his hands cupping the back of your head while the other gropes your ass under water. He pushes his tongue against yours, demanding, rough, like he’d been thinking about doing this the whole night but couldn’t think of how to get you alone. “Was this your plan all along, hmm?” he asked, hands exploring your body as his lips trail down the expanse of your neck, “Wanted to get distance from the others just so you could have your way with me?”

He flips you then, your back now to his chest. You could see the cabin in the short distance, see the bonfire on the back deck, see all your friends still drinking and talking with one another. One of his hands makes its way between your legs as he speaks once more, “Is this what you wanted, love? Want me to fuck you in front of all our friends? Without them knowing? So fucking dirty, aren’t ya?” A gasping moan was all that you could manage as his hand between your thighs quickened its pace. “Don’t get shy on me now, darling. Use that pretty mouth of yours, tell me what you want, yeah?”

“I, ah-fuck, I want you to fuck me in front of our friends…want you to fuck me right here without them knowing…oh, fuck, B!” You were losing your ability to speak your thoughts with the ministrations he was doing between your legs. Blaise wrapped one arm about your waist, pulling his other hand away, a low whine emitting from your throat at the sudden feeling of bareness. “Shh, it’s alright love, I’m gonna give you what you want right now.” You could feel how hard Blaise was on the curve of your ass, could feel his fist as he gripped himself, lining himself up. “Fucking hell, there it is,” he moaned against the shell of your ear as he slowly sunk himself into you, “fuck baby you feel so good.”

A whining moan left your lips when he started rocking his hips into you, “That’s it baby, feel good hmm? Like having my big cock buried deep inside you while our friends are just meters away, yeah? What would they say if they knew you were being a whore for me right now? Taking me hard and raw right where they can see it?” You were at a loss for words, both from pleasure and at the pure filth Blaise was whispering into your ear. You gripped harder onto the arm wrapped around your waist, surely leaving little crescent moon shapes into this skin. Your other hand found solace between your legs, wanting that extra dose of pleasure while Blaise’s hips pounded into you from behind.

“That’s it, baby, go on. Fuck- play with yourself, I’m ‘bout to fill you up. I know you’re close, ah-can feel you squeezin’ m’cock…fuck, love, that’s it.” Blaise could feel that you were nearing the edge, could feel your muscles contracting around him. He slid a hand up your chest and to your throat, squeezing, “Don’t want you to make a noise when you come, think you can do that for me? Can you be my quiet little whore?” His grip on your throat had you tumbling over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a wave of intense pleasure. Blaise buried his face in the crook of your neck as you felt him spill into you, “Fucking, bloody hell…”

He thrust a few more lazy pumps before slowly pulling out of you. You turned in his arms, fiercely connecting your lips with his. When you finally pulled back, a smirk was graced on Blaise’s face, “Careful now, love, or we might go another round before we make it back to the cabin.” You lightly toyed with the hairs on the back of his neck, “S’that so? What if that was my plan?” Blaise opened his mouth to give what you were sure would’ve been a cheeky response when you heard the chaos of your friends coming down the length of the beach.

“Oi, what’re you two doing in there?” Mattheo shouted, pointing towards the water with the neck of the bottle in his hand. Enzo leaned down beside him, picking something up from the sand, “What the hell are thes–oh my god,” Enzo faked a gagging noise, “Are these Blaise’s boxers?” Enzo looked up, mouth agape as he dropped the piece of clothing like it was on fire. “Awh, what’s wrong, Enzie, don’t wanna join us naked in the lake?” You teased.

Theo shrugged his shoulders, pulling his shirt off and tossing it in the pile. “Theo, don’t you fucking dare come in here,” Blaise warned. Theo shrugged his shorts off, standing tall and shaking his hips side to side before running towards the water, “I’m coming for you Zabini, get ready to give the Italian stallion a big ol’ kiss.”

#cheeeeeeky #blaise zabini x you #Blaise zabini x reader #Blaise x you #Blaise x reader #jinxedjuly #jinxed july #Blaise zabini smut

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call-mi-jinx · 14 days ago

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Dave Lizewski X Reader - Headcannons 2

warnings - mentions of seccsual acts xoxo,

Main Masterlist Dave Lizewski Masterlist

a/n - based off this ask! hope you enjoy! and also sorry if some of it is cringey i cringed at some bits too 😭😭 ta ta my lovelies xx

dave lizewski x popular! reader

he always knew he didn’t have a chance with you, so he never even thought about talking to you let alone telling you

he always yapped to todd and marty about how beautiful and “out of his league” you were

he always stole glances at you in the classes you had together or when you passed him in the hallway

sometimes he’d have bursts of confidence and begin walking up to you but it was always at the fifth step that he chickened out

you only noticed him when you were paired up for a science project

he asked if you would want to meet up at this cafe/comic book store but you said you’d be more comfortable at your house

so every time you met up, he always came to your house, in your room

the whole assignment was due in about a month because of how much work had to be done

and over that time, you wished you had met him sooner

on the last day of you two doing the project, he finally gathered up the courage to ask you out

you said yes after having a blank face for what felt like hours to dave

when telling your friends you were slightly worried you would get the piss taken out of you, but haley (your best friend) convinced you they wouldn’t and they didn’t much to your relief

dave however, always overthought about what people would think

he always thought that you deserved someone better, someone “in your league”

you always reassured him that you only want him and even showed him (if you know what I mean 😏)

after about a month dave finally became confident with himself but there was sometimes off days for him

for your first month anniversary, he got you the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers and the cutest hand written note about how much he cared about you and appreciated you

he met your dad and at first your dad didn’t like him (before he even met him) but after the dinner you three had he loved him like a son (don’t ask pls idk ✋🏻😭)

when you met his dad, your palms were clammy and your breathing was jagged but dave held your hand through the whole thing which made it better

haley always hung out with you two, she never thought she was a third wheel. more like your kid

at graduation, dave took you to the most beautiful lake house in the woods, that’s where he gave you a promise ring

he made a speech before giving it to you which made you bawl your eyes out

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski fluff #dave lizewski x reader #kick ass

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deceptive-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter One - Damn Mailbox

W/C: 5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

A/N: I'm super excited to start this lil series, I've had this idea for a little while and I can never resist writing total opposites, it's just so fun to explore their dynamic when they want to reject each other so bad. Also a lot of this fic is inspired by Smoke Signals by Phoebe Bridgers (hence the name). As always I would love your feedback and any comments y’all have 🙂 OH and finally...the hugest largest biggest thank you to @uglypastels for beta reading and proof reading and all that good stuff, it was SO appreciated and really helped smooth things out ILY Z YOU'RE SO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO 💜

Masterlist

Morning dew was like an old friend, someone you hadn’t paid attention to since childhood but felt so familiar with, so…safe. Maybe it was a little too ridiculous to find security in a few dew drops but arriving in a new town with a population of less than five hundred would have that effect. Twists and turns of windy roads unknown, trees larger than any house, and barely any infrastructure would all frazzle anyone not accustomed to its elements. Normally you wouldn’t get car sick but these roads were a beast you’d never encountered before in your life, stomach threatening to send back your lunch of tuna on white bread and a bag of Doritos. You refused to let bile even trace your tongue so with just enough self control, you swallowed any sickness down and pushed forward. Now you were hunched over in the driver’s seat, the door open as you sucked in the fresh mountain air, perfect lengthy blades of grass grazing the bottom of the door. Just before you, up the driveway made up of damp dirt, was home. A home you were a stranger to at the moment but hoped to at least become acquaintances with. Lower expectations created less disappointment. If you dive in head first, you can only guarantee yourself vulnerability and pain, slow and steady was the only pace.

It’s not permanent; you are just figuring things out.

It’s what you kept preaching to yourself during the altitude change, where flatter land transformed into large mountains, the tallest peaks coated in white. Where your ears popped and your brain felt pressure. And then shortly after, you were submerged deep into the forests, far from home, where you knew there was no going back for quite some time. It was a trial run although it didn’t feel that way when the moving truck packed with your life pulled up just minutes after you, delivering every piece of your life to some cabin in a secluded town that was nearly invisible on any map. Temporary was starting to feel foreign when everything felt more set in stone.

You’d think a town called ‘Knife’s Edge’ would steer you away and maybe that was the intent when it was first named; to ward off newcomers who had no business being out in the woods. But it only intrigued you. From what you could find out in a few tourism magazines, Knife’s Edge was not somewhere you went for a getaway, not according to the locals who were a tight knit community where everyone knew everyone. The economy relied on the small businesses down in The Village, on Main Street which according to your calculations was about five miles down the road and around the lake then up. That was the extent of knowledge you’d had on your new home and yes, maybe you should have gathered more information before daring to even place a down payment on some random cabin in the woods but when a new start calls, you either answer the phone or stare at it until nothing happens. The cabin was either yours if you paid the down payment or it would’ve been torn down and sold to the neighbor for more land which would’ve sent you on your way again, on a wild goose chase for a new place that you could fit into. Not that you were too sure that you’d even fit in here. But it seemed too obvious that this was where you were meant to be when the realtor advised that it was yours at a low down payment, a steal. So you’d try to make it work.

The moving truck’s door startled you, slamming against the top as two men got to work, unloading all your belongings. You figured this was your cue to exit your beat-up sedan to unlock the front door–wide-paneled and made of a beautiful dark oak. The crunch of pebbles and dirt alerted the movers to your presence where you let them know you were going to open up so they could begin their tedious process, one of them grumbling something incoherent in response. As you approached even closer, there were knicks and dents decorating the surface of the door but it seemed to add to the essence. The wooden steps creaked underneath your weight and upon glancing around the porch, you found two well built rocking chairs that the previous owner must have left behind. Other than that, there were pine needles and other debris from the surrounding nature caked in the corners, some scattered along the rest of the floor that would need to be swept up but it wasn’t an urgent task in comparison to actually setting up your bed and other necessities.

The lock was stubborn as you twisted the key but with one more persistent shove and turn, it clicked and you were able to push your way in, the hinges painfully squeaking as you made a mental note to pick up some WD40. The air inside was stale, smelling of dust and maybe a half hearted spritz of air freshener. Or maybe it was drenched in air freshener but it did little to nothing to cover up the smell of an old abandoned cabin; you weren’t sure. It was a modest size, the kitchen off to the right, tucked into the corner with a small island in the center. The living room was the first room you walked into from the front, the floorplan more open than you’d expected. A little to the left was a narrow hallway with shutter doors lining both sides, you assumed one side had to be the laundry. The door at the end had to be the bedroom and the door just before you embark into the hall had to be the bathroom but you had no time to explore right now.

Morning light trickled in through the kitchen window just above the stove, creating a beautiful hue against the wood paneling of the walls which you only noticed as you came back in, setting a box that was labeled ‘kitchen’ on the counter before rushing back out to retrieve more of your belongings. It was too early to be doing such strenuous work but that's what you get for securing a slot with the moving company first thing in the morning. In hindsight, you didn’t realize you were signing yourself up to meet said moving truck at 6:00 AM but in your defense, you’d never done this before.

By 7:00 AM the truck was fully unloaded and on its way out and with it went the grumpy movers, more than likely unsatisfied with the fact that they’d have to trek back down the mountain. You graciously offered them an extra twenty bucks which they gladly took but still appeared crabby nonetheless. Now for the part you had been dreading the most: unpacking each box and putting everything in its respective place. But first, you wanted to take it all in. You were right; the laundry was on the left side of the hall behind the shutter door and on the other side was a closet. The bedroom was settled right where you had guessed, at the end of the hall and rather than being empty, it now held your bed and mattress, sheets still yet to be found among the boxes labeled ‘bedroom’ in thick sharpie. The wallpaper was something you could do without but maybe you’d find time to peel it off later and replace it with something more to your taste. Currently the bedroom walls were lined with floral designs and pale blue stripes and if you could be honest, the design was a bit too busy for your liking. But it was a roof over your head for a good price so complaining was out of the equation.

At the opposite end of the hall, just off the living room was the bathroom, sporting a less off putting wallpaper of faded yellow and white vertical stripes. You first ensured your hygiene essentials were in place, toothbrush and toothpaste in a glass on the sink, towels on the rack, and soaps set up in the shower including shampoo, conditioner, and bar of Dove. Having these accessible was a priority, cleanliness being one of the most important factors of your daily routine.

Clothes were next and you’d forgotten a box in your trunk of your most worn items of clothing that you could pick through until you were fully settled. Lazily carrying yourself back to the driveway where your maroon sedan sat on top of the copper-toned dirt, you do a double take when you realize your mailbox was taken out, wood splintering out of the ground as the poor box lays among the grass at the edge of the street. From what you could remember, it was fully intact when you first drove up so you’re forced to conclude that the movers you’d tipped generously must have run it over and not given it a second thought.

The half of the mailbox that rested on the ground was a lot heavier than it looked and you would’ve thought it was made of cement just by the weight. You felt pathetic dragging it up the driveway, creating a prominent line in the dirt along the way. A brief break in getting the damn thing up to your porch has you about half way up the driveway, glancing around at your surroundings, only to finally take into account that you had a neighbor relatively close by, a cabin similar to yours only a few hundred yards away except it was a darker wood and a red pickup sat idle in front of it.

You braced yourself, catching your breath to continue hauling the mailbox back until you can figure out how to repair it when your eyes catch on figure, a man making his way down the steps of the cabin you’d just been analyzing. And you’re quick to shy away until you realize he’d already been looking at you, a cocky grin on his face as he slowly, almost tauntingly stepped off his porch. The way he walked closer reminded you of a lion declaring its territory, especially with the mane of curls he had, shaggy and brunette. He wasn’t close enough to allow you to examine any further; however, you caught the click of his tongue before he spoke.

“Gonna get splinters draggin’ wood around like that.”

It’s all he says, a toothpick between his teeth before he turns on his heel, combat boot digging into the soil and it’s only then that you realize he wasn’t offering assistance, he was simply picking up the hose connected to his spigot to rinse off his windshield which now that he’d drawn attention to it, was filthy with mud and leaves. He wore a red and black flannel which reminded you of a lumberjack but this man just didn’t fit that description based on your short interaction with him. Or rather his interaction with you. Your first indication was that he had no facial hair; he was clean-shaven. And his tight jeans that had black rips at the knees didn’t seem very suitable for a job that required a larger range of motion.

Without any further acknowledgement of your existence, he hopped in his truck and sped off around the bend without a care in the world. He was a resident douchebag and you’d never even spoken a word to him. You quickly realized you were still stood in the middle of the driveway with half a mailbox, grunting in protest as you lugged it the rest of the way up to the porch, leaning it against the railing for future contemplation on how to repair it or if you’d have to fork up money for a brand new one. That was a problem for future you and though future you would be pissed at past you for putting the responsibility on her, you had other things to sort out such as unpacking the rest of the kitchen so you’d be able to actually use it to feed yourself. And then of course you’d have to make your way into town a ways down the road to actually get groceries because not a crumb of anything edible was packed. Aside from a bag of Chex Mix that sat in the passenger seat of your car that you’d picked up at a gas station.

–

Going overboard was an understatement when it came to how much you’d actually gotten done. By 12:00 PM you almost had each room unpacked and put away, moving boxes discarded next to the front door to be thrown out later. Your plan was to finish off the kitchen and then go into town. Instead you finished the kitchen and moved from room to room with more motivation than you’d ever experienced in your life. Maybe it was the adrenaline of living alone, no one else could tell you what to do or where to put things. It was all up to you and maybe you were a little drunk off that power. Regardless, you were now worn out and that energy didn’t last very long. At least you had a freshly made bed for when you came back, that’s what you would reward yourself with.

If you go grocery shopping then you can come back and nap.

There were still various projects to be done, items to be organized, and objects without a home but for the most part, you could sleep peacefully with the work you’d done today. The floors were yet to be cleaned and the fridge still needed a good scrub down but that could wait until tonight after you properly refueled.

Humming to some song you’d heard on the radio earlier, you make your way out the door, patting your pockets for your keys and wallet, both of which you had before locking up and heading for the car. You rolled your eyes passing the mutilated mailbox, settling into the driver’s seat with an ache in your back from the grueling labor in the early hours of the morning. Shifting into drive and then rapidly back to park, you remember that these roads are foreign to you and that you could easily get lost and possibly become a bear’s lunch with your luck. With a tug, the glove box opens and reveals the map you had set in it before embarking on our journey. The map that was mailed to you of the town didn’t seem very complicated. But if you happened to make a wrong turn it could land you amongst some rocky cliffs which you thought better to stay away from. So you carefully examined the route to town, what the people here seemed to call The Village Square. You took the liberty of drawing your house on the map, a cute little doodle in blue gel pen and then proceeding to draw the rest of the route in the same blue so you’d always have it.

This was it. A fresh start where no one knew your name. This would be good for you. At least that's what you kept trying to convince yourself.

Goodbye someone else’s daughter and hello new self-made woman.

–

You weren’t lost. You were just…exploring.

Okay, you were a little lost but the signs for The Village Square kept passing you by and yet you found yourself also passing the same exact pine trees–and you knew they were the same pine trees because every time you saw them you thought ‘hey that kinda looks like a dog’. At some point it started to feel as if you were spawning in and out of some dimension until you finally turned into a lot directly behind one of the signs, sick of this game of hide and seek. There were no signs for parking which is why you’d passed by so many times in the first place, and now it seemed like you were behind a restaurant of some kind. This couldn’t be where everyone parked, right? Anxiety was pooling in your stomach and before you could sike yourself out, you ultimately decided to park and walk from here. You would only be a few minutes and hopefully you’d be able to muster up the courage to ask someone where to park from now on, even if it did make you seem like an idiot.

Leaves crunched under your sneakers, an obvious indication of the Fall season trickling one leaf at a time. As if you were a wary animal, you cautiously walked around the building, finding that it was someplace called The Bourbon; the letters written out in neon red lights that weren’t yet illuminated, the open sign in the window dull signifying they were closed. You let your eyes roam up and down the street, small businesses lined up all the way through and a few patrons, clearly with an agenda making their way along the sidewalks. It was a cute place, nestled in a little valley. Instead of plain old cement the sidewalks were cobblestone and overall it seemed to be a pedestrian oriented community with several cross walks and barely any traffic.

From here you had no idea how to get to Marvin’s Grocery, which seemed to be one of the only produce stores around according to your map. The others were a little more out of the way, your house conveniently only around five miles away from The Village Square. The shops you passed as you attempted to gain a sense of direction were exquisite. Mom-and-pop shops that either smelled of delicious baked goods or hunger-inducing aromas that filled your nostrils with savory goodness. The smell would haunt you in the best way for days to come. A candle shop piqued your interest, as well as a flower shop that bloomed so beautifully among the muted tones of the brick buildings around it.

Everything was so unlike what you were used to, back home things were more commercialized, built for quantity not quality. Here it seemed to be the polar opposite which you could appreciate. Corporations were the root of all evil and you had yet to see one single corporation among the several businesses you passed so far. People seemed friendly but also confused by your presence, offering you a meaningful wave accompanied by a puzzled expression written on every face you encountered. You were a stranger and it was becoming more apparent the deeper you found yourself in the square. Some people whispered and you happened to snag onto a few words, mostly grasping ‘is she new?’. In return, you graced them with a polite smile. It wasn’t like you to initiate small talk or approach new friendships. If they happened, they happened per the other party’s account, not yours, never one to try and stand out in the crowd only making this infinitely more uncomfortable for you, which was no one’s fault other than your own insecurity.

Eventually you were able to come face to face with the giant ‘Marvin’s Grocery’ sign which looked to be handpainted in big white letters outlined in black with a few cartoony carrots, a tomato, and a head of lettuce. Wandering around for an extra ten minutes and refusing to ask for help certainly wasn’t ideal but it did familiarize you with the shops you would soon be buying from on the regular. And it did give you a soft introduction to the small population of Knife’s Edge which despite the name, the people seemed lovely enough.

The store wasn’t the slightest bit crowded and it wasn’t very large either. A mother and her two kids skimmed one of the aisles while an older man pondered over the produce, apples specifically. Grabbing a cart, you begin gathering the items you had sorted out on a list in your head. First bananas, grapes, and blueberries, you didn’t want to bother with too much produce as it went bad fast and you were only one person so those would do for now. Then you moved on to pantry essentials, canned goods that you could stock up on and always have on hand. Green beans, corn, peas, baked beans, even soups such as tomato, cream of mushroom, and the standard chicken noodle.

You’d built up a cart full in no time, and by then, no one else was around so you noted that this time would be perfect to get your shopping done in the future so as to avoid as many people as possible. The cashier was a woman, probably in her early sixties who seemed not all that intimidating which you were grateful for. She smiles warmly and you appreciate the sentiment, grinning back at her as you place each item at the register.

“You’re new. But I bet you’ve already had an earful of that, haven’t you?” She lightly teases.

You laugh softly, avoiding eye contact while still trying to remain well mannered, taking notice in small glances that the woman’s name tag reads Donnie in bold red letters as well as the ‘help wanted’ sign perched up against the window. She seems friendly, a little rough around the edges though in the sense that she had several tattoos that disappeared into the rolled up sleeve of her blue crewneck sweater as well as a fire in her icy blue eyes. You could already guess that she was quite the character.

“Don’t let them scare you off.” Donnie carefully bags the eggs with a few more light items, her confidence radiating, as if she doesn’t even need to try, as if it just comes to her so naturally. Something you could only wish for every once in a blue moon. “We don’t get many newbies. They’ll get it outta their system.” Her voice is a tad scratchy but smooth otherwise, bringing a strange sense of comfort.

“Thank you.” A mouse may as well have been louder than you but you tried and that’s what counts, right? New people were not your thing but they would have to become your thing, moving to a place where no one knew you existed and all. Or maybe you could fly under the radar? It couldn’t hurt to become the mysterious outsider that spoke to no one although it wasn’t a very realistic ambition.

This was fucked. You thought to yourself in the solitude of your brain. Of course the second thoughts were coming now and not before you bought the damn property that tied you to this place. Initially, the idea was a temporary situation far from home but the deeper you delved into this town, the more permanent it started to feel. Not just anyone up and moved here and that was clear by the reaction you pulled from several onlookers. And yet you moved here, bought that damn cabin with the money left to you from your father’s estate, and ultimately, left everything you knew in a manic state. A mid life crisis in your early twenties.

“Miss, your change.” The woman broke through your thoughts and you must have shifted into autopilot, not even remembering handing her any money in the first place.

“S-sorry.” You mutter, collecting the filthy coins in your palm, shoving them into the front pocket of your jeans which you knew would be a pain to dig out later but again, that was an issue for future you. She hated your guts.

“No prob–”

It was abrupt, your exit but despite your rude departure, she called out “I’m Donnie!” and you never felt like a shittier person. She was welcoming you to her home and you didn’t even have the decency to introduce yourself. That’s how it looked at least, on the inside you were panicking and needed to isolate yourself immediately.

You must have looked like a maniac carrying your groceries in a near sprint toward the direction of your car. Everyone else seemed to move at such a mellow pace, not a single vein close to popping out of stress whereas you looked like you’d crumble under the slightest inconvenience. Which you would if you didn’t get to the car fast enough. A small misstep causing you to trip? No chance, you wouldn’t show your face again for weeks. Your groceries spilling all over the pavement because of said possible misstep? You would consider moving all over again.

Thankfully the majority of the walk back to the little lot behind one of many businesses was blacked out, your heart practically pumping in your ear the whole time. What you couldn’t black out from was the man-the same man from this morning smoking a cigarette as he stared at your car. Fear drenched you; you couldn’t gauge his expression with his back to you but you could guess he wasn’t going to be smiling with the way he was lingering, shuffling his boots back and forth in contemplation.

Announcing yourself felt like the most daunting task in the world, humiliation melting into your skin like an uncomfortable burn. Maybe some higher power heard your pathetic struggle because the crunch of your sneaker on a perfectly placed leaf called his attention to you, his head snapping in your direction instantly.

The urge to just run was strong but you maintained whatever cool was left within you, fingers waving at him weakly.

His expression was blank, unreadable. He didn’t say a word as you slowly inched your way closer to the vehicle, only eyeing your every movement like a predator protecting his territory, much like he did that same morning. The closer view of his face showcased his stoic yet soft features, eyes almost puppy dog-like but something glazed over them, a facade of some kind. Something that overtook the puppy dog nature they were capable of and replaced them with a cruel glare. The shape of his nose was endearing at least, rounded at the tip and tinted pink from the cold.

“You just park anywhere you want where you’re from?” He asks, gesturing vaguely with a tip of his cigarette toward the car.

Your shaky breath has him furrowing his brows at you, seemingly offended. It’s not in your nature to offend people but you can’t seem to stop doing it, especially today whether you mean to or not. But you definitely don’t think you mean to.

“N-no, ‘m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He mocks, scoffing before inhaling a puff of smoke once more.

“I-I uh, I’m leaving. It won’t happen again.” You rush out, all the while forcing yourself not to cry. “I just–I couldn’t find parking–I was driving around and—there was no–I couldn’t–”

“Don’t let it happen again.” He warns, stern but easing up on his intense demeanor.

“Promise.” You whisper, a tear betraying you and rolling down your cheek to which you quickly gather your grocery bags in one hand to swat away at your cheek. It’s too late, he already saw.

No empathy is detected in his stare, not that you feel you deserve any. It was just an observation. “Now, get out of my lot.” It’s a demand, a non-negotiable demand that if you were brave enough to argue, would probably have him towing your shitty little sedan.

So you nod, blinking back the water works as best you could while tossing your groceries into the passenger seat, him watching the whole time. With your seatbelt suddenly feeling like the most complicated thing in the world, you expect to look up and meet pure rage but instead your ears perk up at a few knocks on the window. Rolling it down as fast as possible with the manual handle, the man stands towering over you, cigarette abandoned sometime in between you getting in the car and struggling to remember how a seatbelt works. Did he have more choice words for you for illegally parking on what he deemed ‘his lot’? You really didn’t want to stick around to find out but you had no choice.

“Left on Main. Then right on Cherry.” His dark eyes hinted at hues of warm honey but they were briskly dismissed by his cold attitude.

“What?”

“Next time. So you don’t turn into my damn lot again.”

You still didn’t know what he meant by ‘his lot’ and you didn’t have the backbone to ask. You did however fully get the message that you were to never park here again and were now aware of which streets to search for to avoid it at all costs. You’d memorize every detail of it if it meant you could steer clear of the apathetic man before you. With a nervous nod, you were off, not once looking back just as he did that morning except he had more grit in his actions, you just came off as a scared church mouse. You never even caught his name and you didn’t mind not knowing it at this rate seeing as he was all bite and bark for no good reason.

This place never felt so far from home. Nowhere was home. Your heart was in a sense homeless, lost and longing for the connections that these people had with each other that you couldn’t seem to tap into even if your life depended on it. In all fairness, it had only been a few hours and you couldn’t gauge your success based on that but it was tugging on your brain like a parasite, eating away at your final optimistic thoughts.

I don’t belong here.

I don’t fit in.

The drive ‘home’ was flooded with tears and muffled sobs into your now sticky sleeve, coated in snot and if anyone were to pass you along the way you would look psychotic with how your face scrunched up at every exhale, doing your best to keep yourself quiet despite being the only one in the car. You were always doing your best. Always to please others. And it never worked.

~end~

Masterlist

tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #bartender!eddie #eddie munson au #bartender!eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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indigosunsetao3 · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 1

It's always interesting when the new neighbor(s) move in.

AO3 (Full list of tags/warnings. Please check them.) Masterlist 2.2k Words

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Celeste offered as a farewell as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

The café was only partially packed at this time of day, after the lunch rush and before the early dinner customers. During the off-season, it was easier to predict the day-to-day schedule; during peak tourist time in the summer and winter, it was a crap shoot on how busy they would be. Too cold and people wouldn’t brave the mountains to ski even if that was why they came to visit. Too hot and they weren’t going to be out boating in the heat of the day, opting for an early dinner then perhaps hitting the lake at sundown.

“See you tomorrow. Are you still good to work over with Andrea needing off for her kids?” Her boss asked as he shoved another tray of fresh bread into the display case and stood up with a groan, holding his lower back.

“Oh, yes, no problem,” Celeste answered, having already forgotten she had agreed to that last week. Not that it mattered; she had no one at home waiting on her. Well, except for Samson.

The day was overcast, as it usually was this late in the winter. The snow mostly melted, even on the highest peaks, with temperatures rising to give way to spring. It was rainy season, and as Celeste yanked open her car door, she felt a few errant drops catch her arm. She hated driving in the rain and hated everything about that particular weather, so getting home quickly was the goal.

The fifteen-minute drive, the average time when only the locals were around, passed without much fuss. The roads weaving through dense woods before opening to spectacular views of the lake on the left were why people came to this sleepy place. It had something for everyone: a lake for sailing, racing, and water skiing. Mountains in the not-so-far distance for hiking, camping, skiing, and even sheer rockface mountain climbing for the bravest.

Celeste hadn’t bothered with any of that in months, barely left her own home unless it was for work or to go to the grocer. She had only officially moved into the family cottage right before Christmas, though the place still looked like a vacant house. She hadn’t even entered the den; the furniture was still covered in sheets, and packed boxes littered the halls. She just didn’t have the energy or willpower to finish, only pulling out the bare minimum to get by the past three months.

Putting her car in park, she stared in her side mirror at the bins she needed to drag into the detached garage. Just as she had pulled in, the sky opened up to deluge the area, and she didn’t want to get soaked messing with them. How long could she get away from leaving them before the neighbor up the road came calling to remind her? Trash day had been three days ago; leaving the bins out all week wasn't proper. As she twisted in the backseat to try and find an umbrella, she noticed movement at the cottage next door that made her pause.

The place had been for sale since she had moved in. It had been falling into disrepair for as long as she could remember. The owner's adult children had moved from England years ago, and the parents were too old to maintain the property. They had rented it out for a while but stopped when the roof collapsed on the sunroom while guests were staying. No one had repaired it, and the house sat empty month after month until the For Sale sign appeared. It caused a fuss in the town; people were mad that the family home would likely go to strangers, but Celeste kept quiet. She was also a stranger here; the family cottage she moved into was her husband’s.

She watched quietly as a man climbed out of the sleek town car, jacket pulled over his head to shield himself from the rain. He ran to the backseat and wrenched open the door one-handed before digging around inside, leaning slightly to reveal his other arm was wrapped tightly in a sling. He found his quarry after a moment, a large duffel before he slung it over his back and slammed the car door shut. His steps were quick to get to the front door, and she watched him fumble one-handed with the keys for a moment before he shouldered the door open and slipped inside.

It seemed like an odd choice for a man to move into a cottage that was falling apart. He could barely do anything one-handed, and guessing by how he juggled everything, the hand in the sling was his dominant one. Maybe his partner would be coming along to help. Or perhaps this guy was just the investor who bought the place to flip it and sell it to some out-of-town rich people. Just another outsider moving in.

What was she thinking? She was also the outsider, and here she was judging another person who probably had no idea anyone was even paying attention to them.

With a sigh, she gave up on her search for the umbrella and grabbed her purse. The bins would have to wait another day. After one last search of the car to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Celeste opened the door and ran for it. The rain was freezing, sliding down the back of her shirt and soaking her hair. She shoved the key in the lock and wrenched the door open, lifting it a bit to keep it from scraping the floor before stepping inside.

----------------------------

Kyle stared around at the inside of the cottage with a small sigh. When Price said it needed some work, he had sorely undersold how much it actually needed. The smell of must hit him square in the face just a foot inside the place. Then, when he dropped the duffel in the entryway, a cloud of dust floated back up to him, telling Kyle that the place had been empty for months, if not years.

He shuffled down the small hallway to the kitchen, bypassing the living room to the right to find it wasn’t much better. A few cabinet doors were still half open, with plates and cups inside that were probably older than he was. The stove had grease stains all over the top, and Kyle made a face as his feet stopped short of some old mouse droppings in front of the fridge.

“You said it needed a little work,” Kyle muttered into the phone a few minutes later as he climbed up the steps to the bedroom area.

“Not sure I said little, Sergeant,” came John’s voice over the line. It was crackled, sounding like it was coming from a long distance.

“Let me ask Johnny if he remembers what you said,” Kyle answered with a small smile as he toed the metal bedframe of a twin bed.

“He’s busy,” Price answered. Through the tone, Kyle could tell he was grinning as well. “I’ll be there in a couple of days. See what you can get figured out.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll get along just fine one-handed. I’ll have that collapsed porch built in no time,” Kyle answered, his voice dropping humor to reveal his frustration with his injury.

“Don’t overdo it,” Price answered quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kyle answered as he peeled back the faded yellow comforter before collapsing on the bed. It squeaked ominously under him, and he stiffened, expecting it to give way under his weight, but it still held. “A new bed is the first thing I’m getting,” he answered after a moment. As he shifted, the metal whined loudly under even the slightest movement, threatening to cave.

“Put it on the list,” Price answered before the sound of his hand covering the speaker muffled his voice.

“Just go,” Kyle said before Price could return, telling him he had to cut the conversation short. “I’ll see you in a few days, Captain, as long as this place doesn’t fall apart with me in it first.”

He hung up the line and threw the phone onto the nightstand before rising with a groan. He needed a shower and food. Strolling to the window to peer out at the lake, he watched the rain bounce off the surface, churning the calm image from the pictures Price had shown them all into a raging mess. He stared briefly, taking in the view of the small dock and boat bouncing on the waves and the mountains across the way before a light caught his eye.

This was supposed to be a tourist town, one that many people didn’t truly live in year-round, but yet someone else was here. Kyle narrowed his eyes to watch as the backdoor opened, and a figure appeared. They were wrapped in a bright yellow rain jacket, and he smirked a bit as they gestured for someone to hurry up. He assumed it was a dog that needed to be coaxed to go out in the rain, but when nothing came, he watched as the person stomped out into the rain. They went right toward a bush, and when they bent down, a flash of bright orange streaked in from under it and into the house.

The person righted themselves and stared at the open back door for a moment. He saw the person, a woman, push back her hair into the hood where it had fallen out and saw her mouth moving. If he were to place bets, he would have taken a fiver on the fact that she was cursing up a storm at her errant cat. She stood in the rain a moment longer, twisting to glance out at her dock, where two chairs sat, before making her way back inside herself. When the light finally cut, Kyle turned around and headed down the hall to find a bathroom. He hoped he didn’t fall through the floor or the pipes wouldn’t explode when he turned on the water.

---------------------------

“I will leave you out there next time,” Celeste threatened as Samson sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, licking his paws. He was soaked to the bone but still seemed pleased with himself. Celeste was careful never to leave him out when she wasn’t home, especially in the evening. But the little shit had used one of the floor registers to get under the house and out that way. She would need to place another one of the boxes on his newest escape tunnel and figure out a way to secure it from her little Houdini properly.

Bending down, she dried him off as best as he would allow with a tea towel before throwing it in the washing machine. The laundry was piling up again, spilling out the front of it, and she eyed it angrily. She knew she’d need a fresh apron and undergarments for her shift tomorrow. Laundry was just one of those things that always fell to the wayside for her until she was left sniffing a shirt to see how bad it was and if she could reuse it for a third day.

“Dinner first,” she muttered, opening the fridge to stare at her options. Fuck. When was the last time she had been to the grocer? She had half a loaf of bread, a few slices of deli cheese, and some questionable leftovers from the week before. The rest were all condiments and half-drunk bottles of wine. “Cheese it is,” she decided, grabbing the bag and a bottle of wine before wandering to the pantry to open a can of cat food for Samson. He was still attempting to dry himself, but the minute the can popped, he trotted over and began to eat.

Celeste shoved a piece of cheese in her mouth before finally peeling off her dirty work apron and pushing it into the washing machine. She jammed a few buttons, threw in some soap, and started it before collapsing at the kitchen table. The rain was still coming down in sheets outside, and she swigged directly from the bottle, debating how she was going to spend the rest of her evening. Nothing seemed appealing. She could read, of course, but books had lost their charm over the past months. Television was nothing but trash, love stories, or bad news. And unpacking the rest of her boxes was off the list for the time being.

The last time she tried to dig through her hastily packed things, she was smacked in the face by one of his unfinished projects. It was a little thing he had started on a rainy day on a creative whim. She always bugged him about his new hobbies and ideas, how he’d start things but never finished them. But he promised this one would be different because he was making it for her. A promise that felt cruelly ironic as she turned the thing over in her hands while she sat alone in the hallway and cried.

Just another vow that would remain forever unfulfilled.

#poly tf141 #poly 141 #polyamory #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #call of duty #cod #my fic #original female character #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john price #Lifeline

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castlebyersafterdark · 6 months ago

Note

yes mikes an ass guy, but he's also very much a thigh guy

(A day at the lake. And later that night.)

Mike can't believe his luck sometimes, as he watches Will from across the grass. That's his best friend, the love of his life. Sweet. With the capacity to snap a cutting remark, to tease and twist words with an ease, an art. He always says Mike's the one good with words, but so often Will leaves him speechless, breathless. Now is one of those moments. He can't get over it. Will's standing by the picnic table, leaned over the old wood as he flips through his sketch book, glancing through his work from the morning so far. The pages are full of interesting trees along the lake and some sketches of the old abandoned dock, but mostly Mike. All of his sketchbooks are littered with Mike. He's wearing his green shorts. Tight, lined with yellow piping. Barely covering the curve of his ass. Showing off the thickness of his tanned thighs. They're a little shorter than he'd normally wear, but this section of the lake is isolated. They're alone. That's the point. And Will likes to tease. He knows Mike loves to watch him.

He's well aware that he's being observed as Mike struggles to set up their tent for their impromptu camping trip. It's nice to sneak away, find time for themselves. A little hidden slice of the world, away from crowded houses and an escape from basements and bedrooms and the cramped backseat of Mike's car. None without merit, but none provide freedom. It'll be different when they leave for college at the end of the summer. For now, the lake. Will leans further against the slightly broken wood of the picnic table and imagines the eyes that are burning into the back of his legs. He shifts his hips. He never used to feel this confident. Everything about being with Mike leaves little room for anything else lately. It's addicting. Will hums and chuckles to himself, not having heard the hammer against tent peg for a while now. How long until Mike snaps?

Not long.

Mike's on him moments later, arms around his waist, lifting Will off the ground breifly in a somewhat possessive hug before dropping him back down. Will adores when he does that, makes him feel wanted and loved. Mike laughs into his neck and presses kisses where the sound touches first. Firm, but soft. Humming into his slightly sweaty skin from the summer heat. It's the reason why he's wearing so very little to begin with. Mike lost his shirt first, and his bare chest presses against Will's own slick back as wandering hands trail from hips up his sides, fingers gentle before they fall dramatically to his ass, giving him a rough squeeze as he bites at the back of his neck. Will involuntarily squeaks from the sudden motion and spins around, pinching Mike in the side in retaliation. Mike squirms but then brackets Will against the table once more, hips pinned to hips.

"You are ridiculous," Will chides with a fondness so deep from within, and leans up to steal a kiss. Can't really steal what's freely given, but he steals another, too.

"Hmm, title belongs to you. These shorts, Will. I swear you do this on purpose."

"Of course, I do. What am I doing, though?"

Mike hopes he doesn't fuck this up, and take the risk. He scoops Will up, arms under his legs, and deposits him on the table. The old table groans under his added weight. Will immediately winds his arms around Mike's neck, legs around his body, and draws him back in, mouth hot against his own.

"Distracting me," Mike says into his mouth, kissing him open and biting, bottom lip between his teeth, pulling away to press several small kisses to his upper lip and the mole that resides right above it. "Tent's never gonna get built at this rate."

"We have time."

Will wraps his legs around Mike's hips tighter and traps him close. Not needed. In no world would Mike try to get away. He places his hands on those thighs and feels the smooth skin under his palms, drags his fingers through downy hair and teases along that yellow edge of the flimsy fabric.

"Maybe if you'd help me," he squeezes the supple flesh, like his large hands are mapping and molding it to his satisfaction, "it would get done quicker."

"I wouldn't really know what I'm doing," Will adds with a flirtatious lilt, and scoots closer, barely contained on the edge of the table.

Mike's weight keeps him sitting, pressed together from chest to groin. His feet are crossed at the ankle, behind Mike's own legs. His thighs clench around Mike's body and he gets another deep, lingering kiss for his efforts. Sitting like that, Will still has to look up a few inches to see Mike eye to eye. They pull apart with a wet noise, and Will beams, chin on Mike's chest as he squints up. The sun is behind Mike's head. It's hard to look at him directly. Will nuzzles into his chest, kisses a slow line down the center of his pecs until he can't lower his head further. His mouth drags lightly up the path in reverse. Mike's breath catches. Will's thighs tense again as Mike slips his hands briefly down the back of his shorts, kneading once and bring him closer still.

"You know what you're doing. You absolutely know what you're doing."

"Fine. Have it your way." Will pushes forwards suddenly and lands on the grass, bare feet hitting the ground. "Let's build it."

He trots over to the half dilapidated tent and shoots a look over his shoulder to Mike, left standing with whiplash.

---

An hour or so later, full of bickering and little arguments laced with laughter, and more distracted bouts of handsy grab-ass and traded kisses - the tent was secure along the tree line. One less thing to worry about. Mike's next worry is finding the self control to not immediately pounce on his tempting, unfairly hot boyfriend currently tanning by the water's edge. He's laying on his towel, fresh from a quick dip in the lake. He'd neglected to change into swimwear and the green shorts are dark with water and cling to every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination, basically painted onto his skin. Will's head is pillowed on his arms and his satisfied grin rivals the laziest cat, stretched along a cherished sun spot. Mike shakes his head. Ridiculous. Genuinely ridiculous. How is this his life?

He's recruited to help apply sunscreen as Will tans and the game continues. Doesn't know what he's doing, psssh. He knows. He's cruel. He's so fucking sweet. Mike gets to run his hands freely over Will's body and he wants nothing more to pull the shorts off entirely, press him into the grass and dirt and embrace the primal side that flares up from deep within from time to time. Take what he wants, given willingly. Will feigns innocence but he shifts against the ground and spreads his legs just enough to make Mike's voice catch in his throat at the sight. When Mike's finished with his back, he turns to Will's legs. Traces the toned length of them with his hands again, rubbing in the white lotion until it blends into his skin, leaving them shiny and smooth and so nice to map, again and again. He doesn't need that much sunscreen, the sun's on the descent anyway. Doesn't stop Mike from applying more lotion to his hands and passing across the smooth backs of Will's thighs again, tracing the soft inner portions that the sun wouldn't even hit, carding up the flesh that's slightly clammy from the cool lake water, ass perky and softer still under the edges of those shorts. Will adjusts yet again and dips his back slightly, an exaggerated curve as he lifts back against Mike's wandering hands. Will moans into his arms and Mike flops down next to him.

"Mmmm, Mike. Why'd you stop? Felt really nice." His gentle complaint is borderline a whine.

"Because I don't think I could stop myself if I kept going." Mike stretches out, and mimics his position. "Rain check for later."

"What happens later?" Will teased. He loved riling Mike up. It was so easy. He faked a yawn, not his best performance but it did the trick. "Feeling kinda sleepy. Might turn in early tonight."

"Are you kidding!? That's the whole reason we came out here!"

Will let out a laugh at Mike's gentle outrage. Like he genuinely could resist him, either.

"The whole reason? Maybe I just wanted to work on my tan. Mission accomplished."

"Oh, that's right. Of course. And having me put the tent up was just for your sick amusement to watch me struggle."

"I needed something to entertain me."

"I love you but I'll throw you back in the lake. No hesitation."

Will cracks an eye open and smiles, expression a challenge, a dare. It's not taken. Mike moves close, sides pressed together as he inches across the edge of the towel that Will's hogging. Their feet kick together as they lay on their stomachs next to the lake, soaking up the remaining sun rays in late afternoon. Will pouts, not unhappy, but willing Mike to read his mind instead of genuinely asking for a kiss. He's too content to make the effort to move and strain his neck. Mike complies immediately and cranes over, gives him a wet peck before falling back onto his own arms.

They tease each other and lay close until the cicadas start singing, having talked through the early stages of sunset. Times like that, they forget how easy it is to lose track of time and get lost in one other, conversation flowing as easy as the summer breeze. There was no rush. Not for the moment.

---

Will's back arches as Mike touches him again, hand dipped under the hem of his shorts, slightly uncoordinated as he groped at his clothed cock while he mouths hungrily and presses kisses to the inside of his thighs. Theyre spread out inside the tent, sprawled over sleeping bags and illuminated by lantern light. Will gasps as Mike's teeth graze his skin again, biting and kissing and biting again, sucking bruises into the soft, pale parts of Will's inner thighs. He loves marking him up, seeing the reminders bloomed under his skin the next time he buries his face between Will's thighs. Hickies rarely have enough time to fade before Mike revisits them. Will's the artist out of the two of them but Mike takes pride in the colors he paints on such beautiful skin.

"Mike, Mike. Please. Here," Will begs and guides Mike's hand from out of the bottom of his shorts to where he's shoved them slightly down and pulled himself out, hot and hard and leaking with needy attention.

He loves the teasing, the harsh kisses and teeth embedded in his skin, but he's been pent up since the picnic table. Worse off than Mike's desperation. Mike needs no further instruction and seals his lips around Will's exposed length and sucks him down, bobbing and moaning as Will whines high and breathy underneath him. He slides his hands under Will's shorts again, both palms splayed wide against his cheeks, tugging his body closer as he sucks him. Will's thighs tighten as he feels the pleasure building, pressure threatening sooner than he'd like. It had been a long, teasing day. And Mike was relentless. Will comes down his throat, thighs so tight around Mike's head at the peak that the sounds he makes are muffled as plush muscles hold tight to his ears. Mike loves how Will sounds lost in pleasure and misses them. But, the night's still young.

"Holy shit, Mike. Get up here."

Mike crawls over his body, hovering above as they exchange a kiss, sloppy presses of tongue and lips as they share the taste of Will's release. Will inclines on his elbows and pulls away, smirking as he reaches a hand down to palm at the pronounced bulge in Mike's underwear.

"Loved that, but I meant bring me this," he teases, stroking the shape of him through the fabric, fingers lingering on the outline of the head where he's so wet and sensitive. Mike groans, mouth falling open at the feeling, eyes fluttering shut as Will tries to work down the boxer briefs one handed.

"Will. God, hmm, fuck. Ok." He takes a breath, takes the plunge, and asks, "Can I try something else?"

"What do you want to do?"

Blushing in the low light, he asks Will to turn over. He complies, allows himself to be moved and positioned how Mike wants him. Face pillowed on elbows, chest flat, ass raised. It's still a little weird, still a little vulnerable when Mike asks him to turn over like this, but he trusts him. He always makes him feel good, feel wanted. They've been trying a few things, explored with tongue and fingers a few times. He's still so shy, almost embarrassed by his pleasure. But Mike gets him through it. Mike always takes care of him.

Mike's got his hands on him again, always grabbing him like he doesn't quite know what to do with all that skin, with the permission to feel up all that pliable flesh. Will's heart races as he let's himself be played with, still finding it thrilling that Mike desires his body in such a way that he doesn't even know where to start with him. He jolts as a hand comes down hard on him, palm loud against his right cheek. The sting is lessened by the fabric, but with little recovery as Mike follows with his mouth, delovering a moan and a bite. Will can't help but giggle into his arms as Mike traces down the seam of the shorts, dragging his finger over his approximation of his hole, lingering a moment. He's correct and Will whimpers. Mike doesnt know what he wants, but he wants. They haven't done that yet but he wants to. They haven't really talked about it yet. Not in detail.

"You look so good like this, baby. So good. Don't even know," Mike begins to ramble as he gets up on his knees and presses his aching cock to the clothed swell of Will's ass, sliding fabric to fabric.

The friction is nice. Skin would be better. Being inside would be otherworldly, he knows it. Not yet. Not tonight. His mind swirls with ideas, though. He works them down and pulls off his briefs, completely bare while Will remains in those tight green shorts. Mike pushes at the fabric, watches as it clings to skin as he moves it higher and exposes the bottom curves of Will's ass, so incredibly soft. He presses forward, cock hard and hot against the inside of Will's bare thighs. Will doesn’t know if he wants to close his thighs or spread them. He doesn't know what Mike's thinking.

"Wanna fuck you. So bad, baby." Will's voice catches in his throat at the deep reverb of the statement, unsure how to respond. There's the clarification. He doesn't know what to say. It's the first time he's heard it so blatantly from Mike. "Can I? You can keep these on."

He snaps the elastic band of the shorts against Will's waist, where he's pushed them to ride up in want of exposing more ass and thigh. Will groans in confused arousal as Mike's cock slips against him again, barely more than a passing caress against his own trapped dick, rapidly filling up again under the intense attention.

"Mike? What? I don't... I'm not sure I'm ready to, you know. Go all the way right now?"

He feels embarrassed as he says it, red faced buried in his own arms. Mike leans over his back, presses reassuring kisses to his heated face and neck, the parts he can reach, and wraps his arms around him in a soothing, grounding embrace.

"I know. Me either. I kinda want to try something. I don't even know if it'll work." He kisses Will on parted lips once he turns his head to the side. The angle's awkward but he can't move away until he really kissed him. "Do you trust me?"

"I do."

"Cool. Here." He hold his hand out, under Will's mouth. "Spit."

Will does it without really questioning it, something deep within him churning with strange arousal at complying immediately to the odd request. Mike does the same, lets his saliva join before wrapping his wet hand around his cock, spreading his palm along his length. It's all he's got to ease the way, but he doesn't think he'll need much.

He presses forward, cock sliding between the channel of Will's thighs. As he moves, he pushes them closer together, trapping his cock between the supple skin, thrusting slowly to test, in and out. He moans low in his throat. It's so fucking good. Oh. Will understands with a thrill, and instinctively closes his thighs tighter, muscles tense as Mike fucks him, clock slipping hot between his skin slick with sweat and spit. Not what he was expecting. But he likes this. A lot. Mike's hands seem enormous as they grip his hips and alternate between holding him firm and steady, or slamming him back harder to meet careful thrusts.

"You could have taken my shorts off. I'm ok with it," Will says as Mike holds his hips even tighter. The band is digging in his skin, sure to leave a deep impression from the sheer strength of the grip Mike has on him. He hopes it bruises.

"That's okay. Like them on you."

"What is it with you and these shorts?"

"You've seen yourself. No way you're this clueless. Haunted me for years, ohhh."

The word years rattles around in his brain as Mike falters in rhythm, barely registering as he's pushed further into the sleeping bags, shoved flat as Mike pulls out of his thighs and finishes hot against his back with a strained, stuttering moan. Another first. Will liked that, too.

Mike flops down beside him, a repeat of their positions earlier by the lake. Out of breath and feeling a little awkward, Mike watches Will's expression, unsure what to say after his little adventure.

"Was that ok? I don't know what came over me. Kinda weird, I guess."

"Well," Will started with a light sigh, mirth quirking the corner of his lips. He brushes the sweaty strings of hair from Mike's forehead. "At least I know who came over me, though."

Mike stared at him, mouth agape, as Will turned his face into his arm and laughed quietly with embarrassed glee.

"Holy shit, Will. Wow. Wow." Will continued to laugh, but turned in his arms, exposing one eye to take in Mike's expression, full of fond disbelief. "Uncalled for, hate you so much."

"No you don't," Will sing-songed.

Mike leaned in and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to his equally sweaty forehead. "Yup. Guilty. Huuuuge liar. I fucking love you. You're incredible. Are you... sure that was ok? I mean -"

"Mike. It was great. Kinda loved it, to be honest. And I love you, too. We should lose the shorts next time, though."

"Fine. I guess."

"Can you maybe take them off me now? You didn't, um, didn't get it all on me."

"Yeah. I know," Mike admitted with the audacity to appear bashful at the admittance.

"Gross."

"Yeah well, you liked it."

"True." He sat up, grimacing at the feeling of cooled, drying come on his back, and was struck with an idea. "Hey. The lake's right there. If you want to..."

"Yes. Hell yes. Bucket list item!"

"Skinny dipping is a bucket list item?"

"Totally. Let's go."

He was out of tent and half way to the lake before Will could even ditch the shorts quickly enough for him to finally see him out of them.

✅️ ✅️ ✅️

#Spicy byler #Not sure how I feel about this one but I wrote most of it stoned poolside in the delirium of the hot sun while the vibes smacked me.#Kinda weird but here's something! Inconsistent tense choices but it's an unedited drabble 💁‍♂️#Anyway. Hot boy summer 😘🍑#HC #drabble

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borathae · 8 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Chapter 04 - Woods]

Focus on Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Warnings: so many fluffy sweet moments, i have no words to describe how much this chapter makes me cry in a romantic way, they love each other so much!!!, it's insane how much they love each other, a cute date by a forest lake, Yoongi is also very hot because he cuts wood with an axe in a tanktop🥵, sorry i have a thing for people cutting wood don't ask any further questions thank you, skinny tipping, Yoongi being a cuddly cutie, he teaches her a few magic tricks, serious talks about family but make it romantic, have i already mentioned that they're soulmates who LOVE each other??

Wordcount: 11.1k

a/n: i don't wanna talk, i just wanna cry

Jungkook isn’t spooning you anymore the next morning. You stretch, yawning loudly. Today will be a good day. You can feel it in your heart. You sit up and look around the room. His clothes are missing, which means he already left for downstairs. You want to see if you can meet him or your other boys somewhere.

You throw your legs out of bed and stand up with a happy swing in your movements. You slip into your house shoes and leave for downstairs.

Taehyung and Yoongi are nowhere to be found and in the kitchen, only your grandparents are currently present. Your grandfather sits by the table, solving a crossword puzzle while your grandmother is in the midst of making cooking dough.

They turn their heads upon the sounds of you coming down the stairs.

“Oh look who is awake already”, your grandfather says.

“Good morning”, you greet them, hurrying to your grandmother to hug her tightly, “good morning, gram’ma”, you say into the crook of her shoulder.

“Good morning, my honeybee”, she answers you, caressing your lower arm with tenderness.

You give her a soft squeeze and let go of her for the sake of hugging your grandfather. He chuckles deeply, leaning into the hug. A crosswords puzzle is half finished in front of him.

“Good morning, my forest strider”, he says.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask them and straighten up.

“We did. Did you sleep well?” your grandmother asks.

“I did. I love my bed here. It’s so cozy.”

“That’s good to hear. Can you remember when you and grandpa built it?”

“Of course I do”, you say, sitting down next to your grandfather, “you did all the hard work and I helped you put the glue on. And then we asked grandma to join us for the staining. I really liked those days.”

“We liked them as well.”

“We really did”, your grandfather says and pats your arm, “my girl, we really loved it when you were with us.”

You smile, “I loved it as well.”

“Mhm, my girl”, your grandfather mumbles and looks into his crosswords. He will never change and painfully enough, when he went, the thing you missed most were his nicknames for you. It feels so good to hear them in his voice again. It’s reassuring to know that your memory of his voice was so accurate. It brings a little comfort to know that the heart will never forget. Just as it never forgets smells, sounds are right there beside them, keeping people alive.

“Did you perhaps see where Jungkook went?” you ask no one in particular.

“Jungkook? No, he hasn’t been downstairs yet. But I already saw Yoongi. He helped me with the chickens this morning”, your grandfather says.

“This sounds like him. He really loves to help. His readiness to help everyone and anyone was such a big reason why I fell for him.”

“He is a very proper young man. And very knowledgeable as well. We talked about wood for quite some time. He knows a lot about woodworking.”

“He does. He made so much furniture for me already”, you say and nudge your grandfather’s arm, “sometimes we build it together. Like you and I did.”

Your grandfather nods his head and smiles to himself, “my girl, yes my girl.”

You shift your eyes to your grandmother. She is forming cookies with her fingers.

“Is he still in the garden?”

“He must be. He helped with the washing up and then spoke of going to the forest for firewood”, your grandmother says.

“Mhm, I see. I think I might look for him”, you say and stand up to walk to the fridge, “after breakfast that is.”

Your grandparents work in the garden once you come outside after washing up. You call to them.

“I’m gonna look for Yoongi now!”

“Okay, be careful!”

“Don’t go too close to the stream!”

“I will and I won’t!” you say and wave them goodbye. You turn, walking up the path in a happy skip.

You have crossed the corner and have the forest gate in your view, when someone calls your name above your head. You stop and lift your head.

Taehyung and Jungkook stand by the guest bedroom window and wave their hands at you excitedly. Taehyung is behind Jungkook, clearly back hugging him.

“Good morning, you two”, you call up, waving back at them.

“Good morning”, they say in unison.

“Where are you going with that picnic basket?” Jungkook asks.

You step closer to the window so you could talk easier. The climbing rose, crawling up the walls to their window, smells sweet.

“The forest. Yoongi went out for firewood and I want to find him and then have breakfast with him because I know he hasn’t eaten yet.”

“That sounds lovely. Have you been awake for long?” Taehyung asks.

“About an hour, I would say. I had breakfast with grams and paps. Did you just wake up?”

“Ten minutes ago. I think?” Taehyung says.

“Yes ten minutes ago. I’ve been awake for a while. You were sleeping so deeply so I didn’t wanna wake you. I went for a walk and then went to Tae for cuddles”, Jungkook says.

“Ah, that explains why you were suddenly gone”, you say fondly, “did you have a nice walk?”

“I did. The forest is so quiet in the morning.”

“It really is. You both look so handsome today.”

“Heh, thankies”, Jungkook says with a scrunch of his nose.

“You look beautiful as well, my darling.”

“Heh, thanks. Are you gonna do something today?”

“Perhaps. For now we are enjoying the morning scents”, Taehyung says and nuzzles his nose into Jungkook’s neck.

The latter leans into him, closing his eyes halfway.

“Well then, I don’t wanna keep you from it. See you later, guys. I love you”, you say and send them flying kisses.

They both catch them, giggling just as you do.

“We love you too”, they say in unison, waving you goodbye as you continue your journey to the forest.

“She’s glowing today”, Taehyung says as he watches you skip up the path.

“I thought the same.”

“Do you think that she will find Yoongi?”

“I bet she will. But even if she won’t, she’ll have a good time. She’ll probably just look at plants and cry over small animals.”

Taehyung laughs fondly. Jungkook does the same.

“That is something she would do.”

“Yeah right?”

You disappear out of their sight as the forest swallows you. The two men shift their eyes back to the view of the forest before them. Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook and hugs his waist tighter.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy by the way”, Jungkook speaks softly as his fingers play with Taehyung’s mindlessly. He has his left hand rested on the window sill and Jungkook took the chance.

“Because I am with you.”

“You’re a softie.”

“I am. For you”, Taehyung kisses Jungkook’s neck gently, “my weakness.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, “softie.”

The lovely scent of forest becomes stronger as you take the path you took countless times before. You pass the Rock and dodge the Branches. Yoongi doesn’t know these woods, so he must not have gone far and knowing your grandfather, he most definitely told him about his woodworking spot not far from here. He chops his firewood there and stacks it. You spent many afternoons by his side, watching him work or exploring the surrounding forest. Sometimes you returned with some sticks, stones and insects, asking him all sorts of questions about them. Your grandfather always took his time to answer you even if, sometimes, he had no idea himself. You know these days that some of his answers were made up lies because he couldn’t bring himself to let his granddaughter down. You still like his answers these days and even if you knew the real answer these days, the first thing your grandfather taught you will always be the most precious to you.

The firewood clearing is around six minutes from the cottage. You walk along the path and stop to look at plants. One time you stop for a small bird because it was trying to get an acorn open by hammering it against a stone and it was so adorable to watch that you had to take it in for a bit. The firewood clearing is only six minutes from the cottage, but it takes you twice as long to get there. You don’t mind the delay because it meant that you took time to see the beauty all around you. Something about these forests really reminds you how important it is to do that.

The sound of a person chopping wood is the first thing you hear. You were correct. Yoongi is on the clearing. You quicken your steps, feeling your heart flutter in excitement. Even your stomach tingles nervously. How silly of it, acting as if you still had to be nervous around him. Perhaps that is what makes it so exciting however. You still feel giddy at the aspect of seeing him, just as giddy as if he was your secret crush.

The clearing reveals itself once you walk past the stacks of firewood. A heap of unchopped firewood is to your left and to your right under the tall spruce pine, Yoongi is chopping wood. He is in a tanktop and jeans, having his grey flannel wrapped around his hips. He is sweating, frowning in concentration. The giddiness grows. Wow, you have the biggest crush on this man, it’s unbelievable.

“Yoongi”, you call for him.

He lowers the axe and turns his head. You wave at him, grinning so brightly that you can feel your cheek muscles work. He lifts his hand to wave back at you. You squeak a giggle and then run to him.

“Boongie, I saw a small bird and it was trying to get an acorn open, so it hit it against a rock over and over until it finally did it. And then I saw some ferns which had white spots on the leaves. They were so pretty, but I don’t know the name of them so I’ll have to look them up at home because maybe I wanna plant them along the forest borders”, you babble and then you have reached his side, greeting him with a kiss on the lips.

You pull back, studying his face, “how are you doing? You’re sweating. Did you sleep well? I didn’t even notice when you left. My grandparents told me that you helped them this morning. You are so cute. I brought you food. Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m so excited today that I can’t shut up.”

Yoongi chuckles and leans in to kiss your cheek.

“I didn’t even notice”, he says sarcastically but fondly, straightening up, “you brought me food?”

“Mh-hm yeah”, you step back and lift the basket into your visions, “breakfast because knowing you, you are forgetting that you need to eat here.”

“Yeah, right. I actually forgot”, he says and touches his stomach, “shit, why did you gotta remind me? Now I’m hungry.”

“Noo, I’m sorry Boongie. But good thing is, I have food. I’ll set it up there”, you say and hurry to the spot. It is out of the way of potential fly away wood and next to some wild raspberry bushes, “I’ll tell you once I’m done. Okay?”

“Yeah okay”, Yoongi says and lifts his axe. You stand still and watch him. Just this one time. You might have an unhealthy obsession with him chopping wood. There is something about his concentrated frown, his arms tensing and the nonchalant toss of the finished wood before he loads the log with a new one.

Yoongi lifts his eyes, meeting your mesmerized gaze. He rests his gloved hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.

“Don’t do that. You’re hot, okay?” you whine and turn your back to him to finally get the food ready.

Yoongi chuckles to himself, shaking his head in fond disbelief. He lays out the unchopped log and lifts the axe. He feels so much more motivated to work now that you were here. He glances at you. You have laid out the blanket by now, kneeling on it as you get breakfast ready for him. His heart races, his stomach flutters. He has the biggest crush on you, it’s insane. He looks away from you and tries to concentrate on chopping wood.

He manages to get through eight logs and then he hears your sweet voice call for him. He lowers the axe, looking at you. You are sitting on the picnic blanket with the food spread out in front of you. A big smile adorns your face, you are waving at him so excitedly that you are bouncing on the spot.

“Food’s ready.”

Yoongi nods his head in acknowledgement and leans the axe against the tree. He takes off his gloves, hanging them on the handle of the axe. Then he finally walks to you, feeling confident because you are basically eating him up with your eyes.

“That looks delicious”, he says, sitting down next to you, “what have you got for me?”

“I think you’ll like it. I’ve got some eggs and bacon and some sausages, but also veggies because you need the vitamins”, you explain, “and I’ve got coffee in a thermos. It’s the really strong one, the bitter one”, you say, “the disgusting one”, you tease to which Yoongi chuckles and leans in to peck your cheek.

“Thank you so much, my princess”, he says, “I can’t wait to dig in.”

“Yeah, dig in. Eat all of it. I already had breakfast with grams and paps.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “when did you wake up today?”

“A little after sunrise I guess? I didn’t check the time”, Yoongi says and begins eating, “mhm that’s really good. I like it.”

“Yeah do?”

“I do”, Yoongi says and gives you a toothless smile.

You retort it with a scrunch of your nose and a little giggle, leaning closer instinctively as your giddy eyes race over his face. Even your shoulders lifted to your ears because you were so, so giddy. Truly, you couldn’t even deny that you were utterly in love with this man. It is so obvious.

“Eat as much as you want. I made it just for you.”

“I will, thank you love”, Yoongi says and takes a big bite.

“And?” you ask him with widened eyes.

He glances at them, then his food. He nods his head, “it’s good.”

“Thank you, wow”, you melt giddily, “eat a lot, my love.”

“Mhm.”

You watch him take two bites and then you have to talk again.

“Kookie told me that you and Tae had a talk last night.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“I’m so happy”, you scrunch your nose giddily, “I love you both so much and it always made me sad to think that you didn’t get along.”

“It did?”

You nod your head, “it did. I didn’t want to say anything, because I know that you have a lot of history together and I didn’t want to force anything. But I really have to confess that it makes me happy that you are trying to become friends.”

“Yeah”, he looks out at the lake, “I guess we had a lot to clear up. I didn’t wanna dislike him, but also couldn’t get myself not to. Last night helped a lot. I want to honestly try from now on.”

“That’s so good to hear, my love.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he hums and takes a few bites before he talks again, “did you see Kook and Taehyung?”

“Yeah, they’re still in the guestroom. Tae woke up a few minutes ago.”

“I see.”

“Why?”

“No reason, just checking up”, Yoongi says and looks out at the lake. He sighs contently, chewing on his food with slightly squinted eyes. He genuinely really likes it. You are an amazing cook and the fact that he was already starving, makes it taste even better.

Yoongi enjoys the food to even the last little crumb and he drinks his coffee to even the last little drop. He gets back to his feet afterwards, walking back to the chopping area.

You chuckle. Yoongi looks over his shoulder.

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just funny how you just ate in silence only to stand up and walk away without a word”, you say, “it’s funny.”

“Sorry”, Yoongi says and returns to kneel down and kiss your cheek, “I’m not a big talker”, a kiss to your other cheek, “sometimes I forget I gotta talk to other people.”

“It’s okay, I get it. You did like it, didn’t you?”

“I did. It was really good”, he kisses your lips, “thank you for cooking.”

“Mhm Yoongs”, you whisper, pulling him in for another kiss by tangling your hands in his hair. He follows with a chuckle and his teeth nibbling on your lower lip teasingly.

“You’re lovely”, he whispers.

“I am?”

“Mhm, the loveliest”, he breathes and places a kiss to your jawline, “can I chop more wood now, mhm?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yeah, but only if I can read and sneak glances at you.”

He chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear, “that can be arranged, yeah.”

He makes you laugh. Yoongi smiles and gets to his feet, finally returning to chopping wood. He glances at you for a while. You get a book from the picnic basket and lie down on your tummy with your head facing him. You are propped up on your elbows, meeting his eyes. You smile, he retorts it. The eye contact breaks because Yoongi turned his back to you to get back into his gear.

This is the perfect day to you. You made Yoongi happy with food, can relax with a good book and watch him chop wood. Truly, there is no better way to spend a day.

Yoongi returns to the blanket once the entire pile of wood has been chopped. A few hours passed already and you have already read two thirds of the book. You are on your back by now, lost in the story fully until you hear him sit down with a loud sigh.

You lower the book, scanning your eyes over his body. His hair is soaked in sweat, it is soaking his tanktop as well, covering his arms and neck. His cheeks are flushed, carrying a layer of sweat as well. He is leaning back on his arms. His muscles are tense from the hard work. He gives you a sweet smile.

“You look hot.”

“I am. Fuck, I’m dying it’s so hot.”

“Here, drink something”, you say, offering him a bottle of water.

He accepts it, drinking it in one go. He finishes with a loud sigh and a content nod.

“That was needed, thanks.”

“Of course”, you say and scan your eyes over his body, “you’re also really hot, just saying.”

“Tch”, he scoffs, chuckling fondly, “of course you’d say that.”

“Can I touch your arms? Just once? Please?”

“Sure”, he is grinning, flexing it for you.

“Wow, so hard”, you murmur and squeeze his arm, “and so sweaty, it’s really sexy.”

“You’re being horny.”

“No, I’m not. I’m appreciative”, you defend yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can appreciate you being sweaty after hard work without being horny.”

“Mhm, sure you can.”

You nudge his arm, “meanie.”

He laughs and lies down on the blanket. He closes his eyes halfway, running them over your face obsessively. His hand he lets trail over your knee mindlessly. His touch is hot in temperature and just a little rough because the woodworking roughed up his skin even through the gloves.

“I like this”, he says.

“You do?”

He nods his head, “you’re the perfect fucking company.”

“I am?”

He hums a yes, lifting his brows in agreement.

You snicker, scrunching your nose. He makes your heart flutter like crazy.

“Did you like the book?”

“Yeah, I did. It took me a while to get lost in it, but once I did, I forgot everything around me.”

“I noticed.”

“You looked at me?”

“Too many times. Fuck princess, you gave me a hard time staying focused.”

“Yoongi”, you gasp, nudging his chest, “since when do you talk like this?”

He laughs, “I don’t know. Fuck”, he covers his eyes with his own arm, “I’m cringing at myself. That was so cheesy.”

“No, don’t cringe please. Continue. I like it so much.”

His laugh dies down, but his smile remains, “mhm, fine.”

“Good”, you say and peck his lips. He kisses you back with a hum, sitting up when you break the kiss way too soon. The answer as to why is revealed to him instantly in the form of your naked back as you pull your dress over your head.

“What are you doing, oh my god”, Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes before turning his head away quickly.

You glance over your shoulder. He is actively looking at the blanket. He is such a gentleman, you wouldn’t even have minded if he looked.

“Undressing.”

“I can see that. Why?” he asks and goes even further by cover his eyes with his hands.

“I can hardly go into the water in my clothes. Can I?”

“The water?”

“Yeah, the lake. I wanna take a swim. I can’t do that with a dress on, can I?”

“I guess. Warn me next time, geez.”

You chuckle, “you’re so stiff sometimes. I wouldn’t even mind if you looked”, you say and tease him by throwing your dress over his head.

You hear him gasp under it and then watch his head snap up as he looks around with the fabric on his face.

“Very funny”, he says.

You snicker, “it is”, you tease, dropping your panties on his head next.

You coincidentally time it with Yoongi taking off your dress, resulting in the panties to kind of land on his hand. He takes them off to check them out, blushing vividly once he realises what he is holding.

“Fucking shit, princess”, he gasps, gawking up at you.

You merely give him a little giggle and then turn to run down the short path to the water. You jump into it with high-pitched squeaks, splashing it around you as best as possible.

“Oh my god this is cold”, you screech, sinking in deeper until the water reaches you under your neck. You laugh, twirling around a few times before you decide on looking at Yoongi instead. You grin at him, letting out a happy giggle.

He watched you, sitting with his back hunched comfortably and his head slightly tilted to the side. Your clothes are bundled neatly by his foot.

“It was so cold at first”, you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm yeah, but it’s not cold anymore. It’s nice, really refreshing”, you say and do one spin for good measures, “come join me”, you say afterwards, smiling even brighter.

Yoongi hesitates. Not because of you, but for two other reasons. One, the water is cold. Two, he would have to get naked in public. The second one is really holding him back.

“Come on, you’re gonna feel so much better afterwards.”

“What if someone sees us?”

“Nobody is gonna come here. Promise.”

“I don’t know”, he looks over his shoulder.

“Trust me. I’ve skinny dipped in this lake countless times. Nobody ever came here. Especially not in this realm.”

He looks back at you, touching the side of his neck. The boring, grumpy side of him really wants to deny you. The old Yoongi definitely would have. But Yoongi these days knows how much more fun his life feels when he says yes to your ideas.

“Fine, but look away please.”

“I am”, you say, turning around. You lean back in the water and stretch out your legs, using your arms to stay afloat. Your toes peak out of the water this way, you wiggle them happily, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing it.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either why I’m doing it. This is so insane.”

“Yeah it is, but it’s also fun”, you say and sigh happily.

“Okay, I’m coming in, but don’t look.”

“Ooh Yoongi, I’m excited”, you giggle, splashing water to handle the happiness a little easier.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold. How the fuck did you get in so easily? Wah, it’s so cold, I hate it”, Yoongi is whining, but despite that you can hear his steps come closer and closer.

“It’s because I wasn’t taking my time. The longer you take, the colder it’ll feel.”

“No, it just hurts more when you do it fast. Fuck, it’s freezing”, he says, splashing the water.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting my chest wet, I’m not risking a heart attack.”

You laugh, throwing your head back, “it’s not that cold, doofus.”

“It is cold to me”, he throws back in a whine, now wetting his back as well.

You laugh, “okay, okay if you say so.”

Yoongi curses and whines as he enters the water, stopping once it reaches him a little above his hips.

“You can turn around.”

You do so instantly, swimming to him. You stand up once you reach his side, touching his waist.

“Hey there”, you say, scrunching your nose happily, “how are you doing?”

“My balls are fucking dying off.”

“You and your struggles with your balls”, you say in laughter, tugging him further into the water by the hips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When I’m taking a hot bath, you complain about getting them boiled, now you whine about losing them.”

“Hey, my balls are sensitive to temperature. Let me complain”, he throws back with a pout.

“I am, I am”, you say and snicker, “now come in here”, you add and tug him harshly.

He stumbles, falling into the water with such force that water splashes everywhere.

“No eek”, he is squeaking, “that wasn’t cool. Why did you do that?”

“Because, I wanted to do this”, you say and hug him. You wrap your legs around his waist under the water, hooking your arms behind his head.

He frowns at you, but his eyes carry fondness. His big hands support you under your butt, holding you safely as you and he cool off in the water.

“How are your balls doing?”

He snorts, laughs softly.

“Fine I guess”, he murmurs.

“So they didn’t fall off?”

“No. Fuck, this is so cold though”, he says and pulls you closer, “you’re warming my ass, understood?”

“Mhm, I can live with that”, you say and rest your chin on his shoulder. The water ends just on the tip of your chin, splashing up and down with Yoongi’s movements, “this is so nice. Seriously.”

“Mhm, it’s good”, he agrees, looking at the view. Your body feels really warm against his’, your skin really soft. He doesn’t feel the cold where you touch and on the places he does, it’s not uncomfortable anymore because your warmth is stronger than the cold of the water. He knew saying yes to you would pay off. He never did something like this before. Both skinny dipping and cuddling with someone under water. It’s new to him and it’s only as nice because he experiences it with you.

“Do you still feel hot?” you ask him.

“No.”

“See? The swim was a good idea.”

“Yeah, I guess it was”, he says, giving your butt a little squeeze, “you’re still foul for pulling me in like that.”

“If I didn’t, we would still be standing”, you say, snickering when he bites your neck gently.

“Brat.”

The sounds of the forest are especially nice. The gentle gurgling of the water harmonises with the countless songs of birds and the faint rustling of leaves in the barely there breeze. You have view of the shore, the picnic and the woodworking space behind it. Yoongi has view of the distant mountains, the forest and the rest of the lake. The sunlight reflects in its surface. It isn’t as calm as it once was and he knows that it is because you and he disturbed it. It is beautiful to him because it makes the sunlight sparkle like hundreds of gems. He likes that his eyes don’t hurt when he looks at it. Yoongi pulls you closer to him and releases a deep sigh.

“Are you okay?” you ask him. Of course you do.

“Yeah, just breathed. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it’s so nice.”

You give him a gentle squeeze, smiling to yourself. You like how open with his feelings he is these days and that he is saying yes to your spontaneous ideas more than he says no. Of course you would have respected it if he denied you right now, but it is still so much more exciting to share this moment with him. It is so intimate and romantic without even having to try a lot. Just nature, skin on skin contact and a relaxing play of temperature.

“I think I just touched a frog with my foot. Ew yeah, it’s moving, princess help”, Yoongi says and suddenly you get shaken around as he begins flailing under the water.

You break away from him, laughing loudly. It echoes through the forest, joining Yoongi’s disgusted screeches.

“I hate it, princess it touched my toe that was so yucky”, he whines, “I think it’s still there. Princess, take it away please.”

“God you fucking baby, come here”, you laugh, pulling him close so you could pick him up.

“Yah let me down”, he whines, wiggling in your arms.

“No, the frogs. They’re coming for you”, you joke, laughing loudly when Yoongi sends you a look.

“Come on doofus, wanna swim further out?”

“Yeah, lets do it, come on”, he pushes you gently, “I don’t wanna touch frogs again.”

“You won’t”, you say, snickering. You turn so you are facing the lake and then swim off. Yoongi follows you, using only his arms to move forward.

“Can I still touch the ground? Can you check?” he asks, looking down nervously.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes”, he insists, “please”, he adds pleadingly.

“Okay, okay I’ll check”, you say and stretch your legs to the floor. Nothing touches you, “it’s safe.”

He extends his legs carefully. Nothing touches his feet. He sighs in relief.

“Good, thanks for checking.”

“Of course”, you snicker and continue to lead the way.

You and he swim next to each with some distance to give your limbs enough space to move.

The lake isn’t the biggest, so swimming to the middle of it should only take you a minute. If you were alone, you would manage in under a minute, but Yoongi seems to be a slow swimmer. You glance at him. A careful one as well. He looks nervous, sneaking glances at the water with furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?”

“Why are you asking?”

“You look nervous.”

“It’s fine, I just don’t trust lakes.”

“It’s safe, don’t worry. I took countless swims in it when I was a child.”

“I guess”, he glances again, “nothing can touch my feet, right?”

“No. The lake’s deeper than you might think.”

“D-deep? How deep?” he gasps, widening his eyes.

“Like thirty meters? In the middle at least.”

“Thirty?!” he blurts out so loudly that his voice bounces off the trees, “are you serious?”

“Yeah, around that I would say. Don’t worry, nothing can touch your feet.”

“I guess”, he glances again, “that’s so fucking deep though. Do you know what’s down there?”

“Fish probably?”

“Big fish?”

“Maybe? I never dove down there, so I can’t say.”

“Okay, yeah that’s fine”, he says even if his eyes don’t mean it.

You and he reached the middle. You are floating in the water and while you are relaxed in your movements, Yoongi seems to kick the water almost nervously. He also keeps glancing down.

“Are you okay? Honest answers only.”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you scared of lakes?”

“No?” he very obviously lies, “I just don’t think it’s safe to be here. What if something bites our toes?”

You laugh, “nothing is gonna bite our toes.”

“You don’t know that. It’s way too deep”, he says and looks down at the darkness. He begins kicking the water harder, pulling a face of disgust. His arms begin flailing under the water as well.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I don’t know about that. Princess, this isn’t safe. I’m telling you.”

“Yes it is, trust me”, you assure him, “did you guys never take a swim in lakes in the past?”

“We did, doesn’t mean I liked it.”

You chuckle, “the way you’re acting makes me think that you hate swimming.”

“I do, I hate swimming.”

“Wait. Really? Is there a reason for it?”

“I guess, I don’t know. I almost drowned as a child, I think it kinda manifested itself.”

“Woah, really? Holy moly Yoongi, this must have been so traumatic. Why didn’t you say so sooner? Should we leave?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m having fun “

“Are you sure? You look nervous.”

“I am nervous”, he says, “the water’s too deep.”

“Come on, we’ll swim back to the shore. It’s not as deep there”, you say, turning in the water to lead the way.

Yoongi follows you gladly, looking over his shoulder at the scary middle.

“It’s only around ten meters here and then gets gradually shallower. Good thing that I didn’t tell you that there’s kind of an underwater cliff in the middle which is why it’s so deep all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, very good thing you didn’t”, he says loudly, gawking at you with big eyes, “why would you tell me that? I’m literally gonna shit in the water, no joke.”

You laugh, “please warn me if you do, so I can flee.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “very funny.”

“Sorry”, you apologise and reach out to caress his arm, “is your fear strong? I bet it must be. Almost drowning is so scary.”

“It’s okay, I just wouldn’t go swimming on my own”, he says and looks out at the water, “it’s weird. Why did I remember this all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean?”

“I had already forgotten about that event, so why did I suddenly remember it?”

“Maybe it’s because our conversation just naturally went there.”

“Yeah, I guess”, he murmurs and drifts off. It is obvious in how his eyes space out and how he begins gnawing on his lower lip.

“Do you want to tell me more?” you ask in hopes of making it easier for him to talk.

“Sorry, I was just thinking”, he says and glances at you.

“It’s okay. I’m here to listen if you need it.”

His eyes soften. He swims closer and kisses your cheek. He stays close afterwards, studying your face. You and he stopped, now floating in the water. He isn’t kicking it nervously anymore, looking a lot safer here than he did in the middle of the lake.

“I had a brother. He was older than me and in the winters we always had snowball fights.”

“Really? Gosh, this sounds lovely.”

“Yeah, I guess it was fun. He was a bully. He always chased me around and rubbed snow into my face. I was smaller than him, so it was easy for him to pin me down.”

“Noo, I’m sorry”, you say and snicker, “that’s such an older brother thing to do.”

“Yeah it really is”, he agrees and smiles softly, “I just now remembered when I remembered it again. It was during the time we had the snowball fight in my memories. Up until this moment I had forgotten that I had a brother.”

“You did?”

He nods his head, “something about you makes me remember my human days. I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re happy with me and finally have a chance to think about other things than supernatural conflicts?” you start off confident but then get shy, “I hope, I don’t know, maybe you’re happy?”

“Of course I’m happy”, he says, kissing your lips. He nudges your nose with his as he pulls back, giving you a warm eye smile, “my princess love.”

You smile shyly, wiggling in the water happily, “yay, I’m happy. I sounded so cocky at first.”

“No you didn’t. Take the credit. You make my life worthwhile as fuck”, he says, making you giggle.

He kisses your cheek, “would you be mad at me if I wanna leave though? I’m so cold.”

“No, we can leave. I’m getting a little chilly as well.”

So you and he begin your journey back to shore, swimming next to each other with enough distance not to accidentally kick the other underwater.

“Do you have siblings?” Yoongi asks.

“Right, we never even talked about that yet.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“No, I don’t have siblings, but I have a cousin who I grew up with very close. I still talk to him these days.”

“You do? What’s his name?”

“Eren. He’s two years older than me and lives in Sydney. That’s why we rarely see each other.”

“Eren is a nice name. Your family has pretty names for their children. I think your name is beautiful as well.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you, my love. This just made my heart race.”

“Yeah well, it’s the truth”, he says matter of factly and continues, “so Eren, does he have family?”

“Yeah, a wife and two daughters. They were really busy in their early twenties”, you say and laugh.

Yoongi chuckles, “two daughters. That’s nice. If I had ever become a father, I would have loved to have daughters. Two of them, so they wouldn’t have been lonely.”

“Being a girl dad fits you.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re gentle and warm hearted. Your daughters would have grown up with a safe father and definitely one who would have spoiled them way too much.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true”, he agrees in a chuckle, “and one who would have been way too scared for their safety. I probably would be the kinda dad that goes no it’s too dangerous to climb and then it’s something like a small stump.”

You laugh, “yeah that’s so true. You’d be way too overly careful and I’d have to tell you to calm down because they’ll be fine.”

Yoongi doesn’t laugh. Which makes you worry. You glanced at him. He is staring at you with widened eyes.

“What? I’m sorry, was that too mean?”

“You would have told me?”

“Yeah? Sorry, why was that wrong to say?”

“You”, he says.

“I don’t get it.”

He closes the distance and pulls you into his arms so he could kiss you. You gasp in surprise, finding no time to even close your eyes before he has already broken the kiss. He seems to be able to stand because he is currently carrying you in his arm, smiling up at you.

“Yeah, I’d have loved a family with you.”

“What?” you gasp, feeling your heart speed up unbearably.

“You didn’t even notice that you made yourself the mom of my hypothetical daughters did you?”

“Oh”, you hide away in his cheek, “oh god, I did that? Sorry, that’s so embarrassing.”

“No it’s not”, he assures you, turning his head so he could kiss the tip of your nose, “my love.”

“I guess I just really liked the thought of having daughters with you. You’d be such a good dad. Way too cautious, but I love that about you as well.”

“Mhm, you’d be the best mom as well. You dedicate your all when you love, so our daughters would have been so loved. And they’d have probably inherited our magic, so we could have taught them together. We could have taught them how to care for nature and how to use their magic for good and I’d have called you my three witch girls.”

“God Yoongi stop”, you snicker, “I don’t even wanna be pregnant, but when you talk like this Imma want you to knock me up”, you say and hide away in his neck.

He chuckles, “yeah, Imma want to knock you up too if we talk like this”, he confesses, bouncing you in his arm, “that is if my balls don’t fall off first. I love you, but I really gotta get outta that water now. My nipples might fall off too.”

“God, way to ruin the moment, you cold doofus”, you snicker, giving his neck a little bite as revenge.

“Mhm, yeah”, he agrees and begins walking. He carries you until you and he are out of the water far enough that your butts are exposed. Then he lets you slide down his body slowly, setting you down carefully.

“Do we even have towels?” he asks.

“Of course we do. I planned ahead”, you say, looking at the ground in order not to step on something sharp.

“Mhm, good.”

You bend down and open the basket, retreating two towels. You turn and hand Yoongi the bigger one. He thanks you and begins drying himself off. You do the same, having your back turned to him because you don’t want to show him how you dry between your legs. Yoongi doesn’t mind because he feels shy about it himself, wrapping the towel tightly around his shoulders once he is done.

You sit down on the blanket with a sigh. The towel is wrapped around your chest, keeping you covered that way. Yoongi sits down next to you, draping his arm behind your back. He steals a kiss from you, grinning at you afterwards.

“The swim was nice”, he says, lowering his head so he could trail kisses up and down your exposed shoulder. He incorporates little nose touches every now and then, lulling you into a state of comfortable tingles.

“Yeah, it was nice. It wasn’t too scary for you, was it?”

“No, except for the frog.”

You laugh, “right, the frog.”

He shudders, “it was rancid.”

“I can imagine”, you say and snicker, reaching up to play with his hair. You play around for a bit before finally scratching him behind his ear.

Yoongi’s instinct is to purr, but it comes out as a really deep, human sound of comfort. He chuckles, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“I wanted to purr.”

“Yeah, I know. I think it still sounded like one. You’re basically a cat in every life.”

“I guess I am”, he says and laughs softly, kissing your neck before sitting up, “fuck so stupid”, he murmurs, shaking his head fondly.

“No, it’s cute”, you say and lie down, looking up at the trees above your heads.

He keeps seated for now, looking at you.

“What are we gonna do now?” you ask him.

“I don’t know. Sit around and do nothing?” he suggests.

“I like this idea. We could sort the wood later.”

“Mhm okay”, Yoongi agrees and lifts his eyes to let them race over the view. The lake, the forest, the wood piles and even more forest.

“Did you sleep well today?” you ask him.

“I did. You?”

“Yeah me too.”

“Mhm, that’s good”, Yoongi hums and get on all fours, reaching for his clothes.

You glance at him, “what are you doing?”

“Getting dressed. Don’t look.”

“I won’t”, you promise and close your eyes. You feel no rush getting dressed, relaxing in the warm air as the faint sounds of Yoongi putting his clothes back on fill your ears.

Yoongi lets you know that you could look again by cradling your cheek and kissing your lips. You chuckle, opening your eyes. He is resting on his side, propped up on one elbow and with his arm draped around your chest. From what you can see, he put on his tanktop and jeans, but left the zipper open. It’s a sexy look because somehow the tanktop has slipped up his stomach far enough that you get glimpses of his happy trail.

You meet his eyes. The adoration is so obvious in them.

“What if we make it reality?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we have a family?”

You widen your eyes in surprise, holding your breath.

“We’ll buy a house somewhere, just big enough for four and with a big garden all around it. We’ll fill it with plants and flowers and we’ll renovate the house until it’s perfect”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah and then I’ll take the cure. I’ll become human again and I can give you children. What do you say?”

“Yoongi this is…this is a really big conversation to have right now.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. First we gotta teach you control and then try to make the cure work. We still have other things to worry about.”

“We can have this conversation again, you know? I just don’t have a good enough answer yet.”

“I know. I understand, I really do. I just got lost in my daydreaming.”

“That’s okay. I liked this daydream as well. Especially the part with the little house with the garden.”

“Yeah, I guess. Yeah.”

You sit up, “talk to me, my love”, you say, caressing his thigh gently.

He hesitates for a moment, but gives in when you kiss his shoulder, resting your cheek against it afterwards.

“Am I stealing you of something you really want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want children?”

“Oh.”

“Sorry”, he breaks eye contact, “I know this is another big fucking question to ask. I was just, I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid. Forget it.”

“No, tell me. It’s okay. I think a couple should have this conversation at some point.”

“Yeah, I guess”, he gnaws on his lower lip for a while, then speaks again, “I feel like I’m stealing you of something ‘cause I can’t give you children. You know?”

You shake your head, “I don’t feel this way. I never really dreamt of being pregnant, so I don’t think that I’m missing out on anything.”

“I just don’t want you to be unhappy with me. I can’t give you children with my cursed body, it’s so fucking infuriating.”

“Hey, my love”, you gasp, cupping his cheek to turn his head to you, “don’t talk like this again. I thought you didn’t want to take the cure anymore. Where is all this mortality talk coming from again?”

“I don’t know”, he whispers, looking helpless.

“Is the cure still important to you, my love? Honest answers only.”

“I don’t know”, he is shying away and so you give him his space.

“That’s okay. You know what? I’ll just get dressed real quick and if we still feel like talking afterwards, we can do that. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

You try not to rush because it gives both of you a chance to sort through your thoughts. You never dreamt of being pregnant. You also never wanted it. Perhaps you played with the thought of having children one day because you always loved the thought of taking care of someone, but you were also aware that “loving the thought of children” was not enough to make someone a good mother. You were “a thought” to your parents and it was you, innocent and needing of care like any child does, who carried the consequences of it. You never want a child to feel this way. And while you still liked the thought of children, you also knew that this wasn’t enough.

You fix the strap of your dress, looking at Yoongi. You are dressed. The conversation can continue or naturally die down. Both options are okay for you because you want both parties to be ready for it. You and Yoongi will have chances again if he doesn’t feel ready anymore.

“Do you still want to talk about it?” you ask him.

He touches the side of his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For panicking like this. I’m sorry, the talk in the water made my fucking thoughts race because you made yourself mother of my children and I got scared that I’m the reason you can’t have children one day. And, and that you’ll start to be unhappy and then you’ll start hating me because I’ll be the reason why you can’t have children.”

“No my love, you aren’t”, you assure him, “I told you that I don’t want to get pregnant and I really meant it. You don’t need to feel as if you’re stealing something from me. The one thing, I want most in life is to be with you.”

He smiles shyly, “I want this too”, he gazes at your lips, “like nothing else.”

“Me too, my love.”

He leans closer, “can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes, you can.”

With your consent, he leans in. You meet him in the middle. He is the one to pull back first.

“I’m sorry I said that. With the cure, I mean. I panicked, sorry. Yeah.”

“It’s okay, really”, you assure him, “I’m not angry at you.”

“Yeah uhm, thank you for saying that”, he says and touches the side of his neck, “do you wanna see something?” he asks in hopes of changing the topic.

“Something?”

“Yeah. Uhm. Look.”

Yoongi scoots closer until your knees are almost touching. He props up one leg, resting his left arm over it. Then he lifts his right hand and snaps his fingers.

Petals fly from his fingertips. Small and wilting.

“Wait. One more chance, sorry I’m nervous”, he says.

“It’s okay. Don’t be nervous, you’re safe with me.”

Yoongi glances at you in shock. You give him a reassuring smile. He exhales deeply, shedding himself of so many burdens. He lowers his eyes to his hands and tries again, turning those petals into a small flower.

“Yoongi”, you gasp.

He offers it to you.

“For you.”

“For me?” you accept it with a happy squeak, “Yoongi, you just used magic. Oh my god, my love. Wow, this flower is so pretty.”

“I’m still really rusty. Three thousand years is a long time.”

“I think you did an amazing job. Look, I got a flower. This is so amazing”, you say and giggle, “you used actual magic, my love.”

“I know. How was it? Was I cool?”

“You were the coolest, wow my love.”

Yoongi smiles fondly, running his hand up and down your thigh. His eyes lower giddily, studying your face.

“I want to try the spell. What do I have to do?”

“Yeah? Wait, I’ll explain it to you.”

“Yes please, I’m so interested”, you say, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

“You see”, he begins, lifting his hand so you could see him move his fingers. Small pedals appear in the air above his hand, dancing around slowly with the movements of his fingers, “what I’m currently using is nature magic.”

“Nature magic.”

“Exactly. When we speak of magic, not every magic is the same. We draw power from different elements, objects or concepts and depending on where we draw from, the magic manifests itself differently.”

“I see. So dark magic draws power from darkness?”

“In a sense, but not really. Dark magic is everything which uses questionable power sources for its magic. Blood, pain, death. Those kind of things give you immense power, but the output will always be dark magic. You won’t really have healing results with these kind of power sources, you know?”

You nod your head, “it makes sense. If the source is bad, the result will be just as bad.”

“Exactly.”

“So nature magic is good?”

“Obviously it depends again on what you channel. Fire will be powerful but destructive. Plants will be weaker but nurturing.”

“I see. So it’s really whatever you channel will put its essence into the magic.”

“Exactly.”

“What did you channel normally?”

“My emotions, just like you”, he says and caresses your hand, “that’s why it’s important for witches like us to learn control because emotions can be a brittle thing. Immensely powerful, but also unpredictable.”

“Because we can naturally feel both good and bad emotions. That’s why I destroy things when I’m upset and brighten a room when I’m happy. Because different emotions create different magic.”

“Yes this is correct. Wow, good job princess. You’re such a fast leaner”, he praises, making you giggle.

“Yeah, thank you heh.”

He snaps his fingers, creating another flower, “with time and control, witches will be able to channel from whatever they choose. Some like to become experts in one particular field and ignore the rest, some never really settle and are acceptable in countless fields, while others concentrate on a few until they mastered them.”

“Is there a limit to how many types you can master?”

“Not really? But some sources are better left alone.”

“I know. I was just curious. I don’t ever want to channel stuff like pain or death.”

“Good. Please keep that in mind, princess. Those kinda sources poison you even if you’re careful. They even destroyed Nilrem in the end.”

“I know. I’m too scared to touch them. Believe me.”

“That’s my girl”, he pecks your cheek, “but to answer your question, in theory there is no limit to how many you can master. I think it’s a good idea to start off with fields that interest you, which benefit the kind of witch you want to be and which support each other. Plants and water for example. The moon and the stars is another favourite of many witches.”

“Wooah, you can channel the moon?”

“You can channel the moon, the stars, the sun and the planets. The moon works best however because of its already very strong influence on the planet.”

“That’s so amazing. I always loved the moon.”

“Yeah, the magic is very powerful and used for a lot of spells. Those spells are called night spells, because you perform them at night when the moon shines the brightest.”

“This is so interesting, wow”, you whisper, looking up at the sky, “so could you channel the sun right now? Because it’s day right now?”

Yoongi lifts his left hand. It begins glowing like a small sun would.

“Wow!” you gasp loudly, bouncing just once as excitement overtakes you.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” he asks just as the glow dies down again.

“That was so awesome, holy moly. Can I do that too?”

“One day, with lots of practice.”

“Wow, this is so cool”, you say and look at his right hand again. The flower petals are still dancing above his fingers, “so for this spell to work what did you channel?”

“Guess.”

“I would say plants because you created a flower.”

“Good job, that’s correct.”

You grin proudly.

“Are you proud of me?”

“Very”, he says and kisses your cheek.

You giggle happily, feeling so good about the compliment.

“What do I have to do to make the spell work?” you ask him.

“First you have to visualize the flower in your head. Then you have to tap into your magic and feel how it connects with the magical auras of the plants around you.”

“So everything has a magical aura?”

“Yes, some stronger than others, which is why they are more powerful sources.”

“I see. So I have to visualise and then feel.”

“Exactly and when you feel the aura, you have to keep that connection going and your magic will automatically draw from it.”

“Okay, okay. So I’m gonna do it now”, you say and close your eyes.

“Take your time. It’s difficult at first, so don’t worry if it still feels exhausting.”

You peel your eye open, glancing at him, “so it’ll get easier?”

“Of course it will. Once you’ve practiced a lot, drawing from your source will happen almost automatically. You’ll only really have to look for the connection with materials you’ve never used before.”

“Okay, okay I see”, you close your eye again, “I’m trying now.”

“Take your time.”

You don’t feel different at first. You are sitting on a blanket. Yoongi is with you. The sun is warm. The ground is hard. The water is cold, painting deep blues behind your lids.

“Huh?”

“You’re feeling the water, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Wow, it feels cold and never ending. It just flows and, and looks blue.”

“Good job, keep searching for more.”

The trees. Their aura looks like specks of green sunlight through a thick canopy. The sensation sways from side to side like trees sway in the wind.

“The trees sway.”

“Good job, you’re getting closer and closer.”

A mushroom. It’s magic flies like brown spores through the darkness. The scent of nourishing soil tickles your nose.

Suddenly a little jingle. Like that of the smallest of bells. The brown spores turn into white petals and the once muddy scent becomes floral.

“I think I’ve got it”, you say and sniffle, “wow, it smells so good.”

“Good job, you did it”, he praises, “now that you’ve tapped into the source, think of creating the flower with a snap of your finger and if you channelled your source correctly, it should appear just like it did with me.”

“Okay, okay so”, you say and snap your fingers, “hey! I did it!” you gasp and open your eyes, “oh…”

Dried, old petals lie in your palms.

“Oh no”, you say sag your shoulders in defeat. You pout at him.

“Hey you made petals, that’s already a start. Keep doing what you did, nobody’s perfect with the first try.”

“Okay, okay”, you say and furrow your brows in concentration. You even stick your tongue out, making a little sound of hard work.

Yoongi smiles fondly, gazing at your features with soft eyes. He thinks that you are adorable when you concentrated really hard.

You snap your fingers. Petals shoot into the air like confetti.

“Wait. Again.”

Another snap of your fingers. The smallest, most delicate of flowers appears.

“Look! Yoongi, look! A flower!”

You hold it up before his eyes, bouncing on the spot in excitement.

“Good job, you did it”, Yoongi praises.

“It’s so small though”, you pout, “I wanted it to be bigger.”

“You made a flower, that’s already the first step. Try again.”

“Okay”, you say and pull your face of concentration.

Yoongi is melting. His heart is racing like crazy. He tilts his head to the side and blinks his eyes at you slowly. Look at you. Just fucking look at you.

“Woah! Look!”

Yoongi shifts his head to your hand. You are holding a blue flower between your fingers.

“A flower”, you squeak, waving it excitedly, “Yoongi, I made a flower!”

“I can see that, good job princess”, he smiles with you, “it’s such a pretty flower too.”

“Yeah, right? And look, it’s blue. Like your favourite colour.”

He meets your eyes. They are glowing in happiness. His heart flutters.

“It’s for you”, you whisper, “can I put it in your hair?”

“Yeah”, he whispers, holding his breath as you lean closer to put the flower in his hair. He looks at your face with parted lips, feeling his heart almost give up in his chest.

You tug a strand of hair behind his ear as well, running the back of your hand down his cheek last.

“There we go, now you’re pretty.”

Your eyes meet. Yoongi is blushing. Even more than he does in the real world.

You giggle and steal a kiss, nudging him with your nose afterwards. Yoongi lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing his nose against yours gently. He cups your cheek with his right hand and slides his left hand to the back of your head. He pushes you down onto the blanket for another kiss, knocking a sigh of his name out of you.

Here you are. Kissing instead of practicing magic. You smile into the kiss, hooking your arms behind his head. This isn’t the worst situation to be in. As a matter of fact, it is the loveliest of lovely situations to find yourselves in. He is between your legs, he is so warm and soft and comfortably heavy. You can feel his tummy against yours, his middle melted with yours and his heart sync with yours. You and he are so perfectly one right now and it’s the best thing to be.

The kiss only breaks because humans need to breathe. How annoying indeed.

Yoongi caresses your cheek with the tip of his nose, having his eyes closed. You have your eyes closed as well, playing with his hair slowly. It feels so soft between your fingers. So, so soft.

“I’m happy”, he confesses in a barely there whisper.

“I’m happy too, my love.”

“I feel so young.”

You fix the position of your head and open your eyes so you could look at him, “you do? What does that mean?”

He lifts his head, looking at you as he talks. His thumbs caress your cheeks.

“I feel so human. I guess because I am, but this takes me back to my days as a magic student.”

“Yeah? Did you also lay under trees and practice magic?”

“I did, but not like this.”

“Not like this?”

“Not with the most beautiful woman by my side”, he rolls to his tummy and props himself up on his elbows, “not with the love of my life”, he adds and kisses your lips.

Your heart flutters like crazy and Yoongi’s does too. It flutters even more when you gaze at each other after the kiss.

“Were you ever in love as a human?” you ask him.

“Not like I am with you. I had a love affair with a girl from my village, but I didn’t love her like I love you.”

“Did you ever love someone like you love me?”

“Of course I didn’t”, he says as his eyes race between yours, “why are you asking that? Do you doubt my feelings for you?”

“No, of course not, I was just wondering. Three thousand years is a really long time.”

“I didn’t feel like I deserved to love or to be loved in return, so I never really tried looking for it.”

“I see. I’m sorry you had to feel this way. I hope you know that you deserve love and that you always did.”

He lowers his eyes shyly, nodding his head slowly.

“Good”, you say and ruffle his hair gently, “maybe I can be glad that you decided to be a loner. Means I had a chance with you.”

He laughs. You laugh with him. The mood has been lifted again.

“I guess yeah”, he says, giving your cheek a little pinch.

You scrunch your nose, feeling really happy. You love when he laughs. He is so pretty doing it. You reach up and trace his cheek most tenderly. Yoongi studies your features shyly.

“I think you and I would have been lovers at school”, you say.

“What do you mean?”

“If I was born back then and we went to Nilrem’s school together, we would have been school sweethearts. I think we would have practiced spells together just like we do right now.”

Yoongi smiles and kisses your cheek.

“Yes, we’d have done that.”

“Who do you think would have fallen first?”

“Probably me”, Yoongi says, “I’m too weak for you”, he adds in a breathy laugh.

“No, Yoongi”, you get out, “you are so sweet. I thought you would say me because I’m a hopeless romantic, but this is so much sweeter. You really would have fallen first?”

“Yeah”, he says, gazing at your lips, “you’d probably have been annoyed by my daydreams and laziness.”

“You’re not lazy.”

“Back then I was. I hated studying.”

You laugh. Yoongi smiles.

“I still do.”

“And yet we met at uni.”

“Yeah, I hated every second of it.”

You laugh, “and yet you still went. I mean, I guess it was because of Alpha needing a babysitter.”

“Yeah seriously that’s the only reason I went. Stupid brats, they’re centuries old and decided to cosplay students. That’s the last thing I’d wanna be again.”

“But if they never did, we never would have met.”

“Right. That’s the only good thing coming out of it.”

“Can you imagine how that would have been? If you guys stayed at the estate and I just lived my life as a student? We would have only been twenty minutes apart and yet would have had no idea that we existed and how we could change each other’s lives.”

“Yeah…” he looks out at the lake. His eyes race from left to right as he is clearly thinking. His lips curl into a soft smile, “you have no idea what you did”, he speaks gently, “and how you changed me. Do you have an idea what you did? Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“I spent three millennia looking for a cure to what I am just so I could die. Three millennia my dream was to die and I hated every day, month, year which passed where I was still alive. You make me grateful for every goddamn second I can spend on this earth.”

“I do?”

“You actually make me happy that I’m immortal because it means that I have all the fucking time in the world to love you and be with you.”

“Yoongi, my love”, you whisper, feeling so utterly overtaken by emotion.

“And I’m not saying this to be cheesy or, or romantic. I’m saying this because it’s the cold, hard truth. You make me wanna fucking live, ___”, he says with trembling emotion in his voice.

You choke down the tears threatening to spill, reaching over to hold his hand.

“I know”, you choke out, “but I can’t help to think it’s really romantic too”, you add in a breathy laugh.

Yoongi laughs just as breathily, “yeah.”

You and he spill tears. They’re not of bad nature and the soft laughs escaping you are proof enough.

“I’m happy you feel this way, my love”, you say quietly, caressing his hand.

“I’m happy too. Being happy is so, so…so”, he touches his own chest and laughs as he talks, “worthwhile. It’s so worthwhile.”

“It is. It’s so worthwhile.”

He closes the distance between you and him and hugs you. He rests his head on your shoulder and his arm around your waist.

“I think that we’re gonna have a happy eternity”, he says.

“Yoongi, I love you”, you get out and hug him tightly, “shit, you got me crying again. Stop being so full of love. I can’t do this anymore.”

He chuckles, swaying you softly.

“I can’t help it. I want to be soft and full of love.”

“And you are. Oh, you are so full of love. My softest love.”

“I like this, yeah”, he says and giggles happily as he hugs you to him.

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flippinpancakes64 · 6 months ago

Note

Going camping with the Cullens!

Going camping with the Cullens

Thank you for requesting!

Also I normally write on my computer and I wrote this all on my phone so sorry if the formatting is weird I tried my best💀

But at least I can use emojis

Edward:

He would really enjoy camping

He thinks it’s super romantic to share a tent, go on hikes, gaze up at the stars

I mean he’s already a pretty outdoorsy guy

They kind of all are

Of course if you’re a human he gives you all of the piggyback rides

He might get a little self conscious about his sparklyness

Just tell him you think he’s pretty ❤️

Anyway

His favorite parts would be hiking on the trails

Or on trails he makes himself

Alice:

I don’t see her being one to suggest going camping

But she won’t say no

Her idea of a fun date with you is playing dress up with all of her clothes

She has fun either way

I feel like she’d love birdwatching

Of course she doesn’t need binoculars

“Oh look there goes a blue-footed boobie!”

She’s also really good at making flower crowns

Jasper:

Camping reminds him of his days as a soldier in the west

It’s bittersweet for him

He misses his past in that sort of nostalgic way yk

So I think he’d like camping

And it would be fun for him to let loose a little

He 100% is staring at you while you sleep in the tent

Pulling an Edward move

His favorite part is just taking in the scenery

I feel like he’d have a lot of knowledge about the different plants

“You can eat that one… if you want to, of course”

Rosalie:

This wasn’t her first option

But you said you wanted to go so she went

I don’t think she’s high maintenance

But she doesn’t see the appeal of a tent

Even if she doesn’t need to sleep

But she goes anyway

Her favorite part ends up being cuddling by the fire

She lives vicariously through you and makes you roast like 20 marshmallows

And eat them of course

Emmett:

Yeah he loves it

He thrives out in nature

He loves all of it

The tent, the fire, the woods, the animals, the plants

He just has so much fun

You were hiking and said that you were tired and wanted to sit for a sec so he pushed over a tree to make you a spot to sit

Just because he could

Please take him out here more often

Esme:

Another one who loves it

Not that she’s trapped in the house or anything

But she doesn’t go to school

And she doesn’t work

So she loves leaving when she can

And she loves to fish

Her dad used to take her fishing and she loves it

But she catches them and throws them back

“We don’t need them anyway”

Carlisle:

It’s not his first choice

Yes he was the one who started the whole Cullen Camping thing when it’s sunny

But that’s mostly for the others

To blow off steam yk

But he’s been so well trained for so long

I mean he doesn’t even flinch at human blood

He doesn’t need to run around

That being said he will go with you though

His favorite part ends up being swimming in a lake

Every time you go camping he insists on camping near a lake

Vampire! Bella:

She’s not a fan

She wasn’t an outdoors person when she was human

She’s not an outdoors person now

Even though she doesn’t need it, she prefers a soft bed and AC

You might have to drag her out there

But she would end up having fun

Her favorite part would be stargazing

If you know anything about astrology or stars she is all ears

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writingquestionsanswered · 9 months ago

Note

I’ve been reading some craft books and online posts about the world building because my story is an urban fantasy set in present day US, in a fictional town, and theres not a secondary world where the fantasy happens, it’s all in the real world, except the magic is a secret that only certain people know about, but all of the resources I find about world building only talk about fantastical worlds that exist by themselves and not the kind of more subtle world building that I’d have to do. Do you have any tips?

Guide: Creating a Fictional Town in the Real World

Step 1 - Choose Your Location - There are two ways to go about choosing a location for your fictional town. One is to go the "Springfield U.S.A." route, ala The Simpsons, and be vague about the specific location (borough, parish, district, county, region, state, or province) and instead give a broader geographic region... "the East Coast," "the Pacific Northwest," "Central Canada," Northern Scotland," etc. The other option is to go ahead and put your fictional town in a specific location. Just figure out where (for example, somewhere outside of Des Moines, Iowa) and go to Google Maps, click on satellite view, then start zooming in on big empty areas. Choose a place big enough to fit a town. Yes, in reality it's probably farm fields, pasture, or someone's property, but that doesn't matter. You don't have to actually show it on a map. It's just a plausible spot to build your town. Now you can measure how far it is to other places, you know what highways to take to get to it. You can even do street view to get the lay of the land, see what the landscape looks like and try to envision the buildings there. You can also use what's there to create parks, popular recreational areas, and anything else your town needs.

Step 2 - Choose Your Inspiration - Even when you're creating a fictional town, it's still a good idea to use a real town (or two, or three) from that general area as inspiration for your town. For a fictional town in Des Moines, I would zoom in on the map to find a nearby town of similar size... like Elkhart, then I can take a look around to see what it's like. Just looking at the map, I can see they have a couple of churches, a couple baseball fields, a very small main street/downtown area with a couple shops and restaurants, a post office, a few different neighborhoods, and a cemetery. This would be a great model for a small fictional town outside of Des Moines. And, as I said, you could look at a couple other sand combine them. Once you have your inspiration town/s, you can walk around on Google Maps street view, go to the town's web site, watch a tour on YouTube (if one exists), or look up pictures in Google Image search.

Step 3 - Start Planning - This is the really fun part! First, you might want to draw a basic map of your fictional town using your inspiration town/s as a guide. This doesn't have to be a pretty map... just a basic line drawing to help you envision where everything is. Think about some of the basic things this town might have, like the ones I listed in step two, and any other things you might want your town to have, like maybe a library, a hospital, a city hall, school, and maybe a movie theater. It might even be helpful and fun to put together a collage of pictures to represent your town so you've got something in mind as you write about it. You can even choose representatives for specific locations in your story, like your MC's house, school, and their favorite hangout.

Step 4 - Naming Your Town - Start by looking at the kinds of town names that surround your town. Look for common naming conventions... suffixes like -ton, -ville, -dale, -burg, -wood, -field, etc. Words in a particular language, like a lot of French-inspired town names, or towns with geographical terms (lake, hill, valley, river, canyon, gap, etc.) My guide to Naming Locations has additional tips.

Step 5 - Populate Your Town and Give it a History - Last but not least, make up a little history for your town, again, using surrounding towns as inspiration. Who founded it? When was it founded? What's the town's main industry? What are the people like in this town? What jobs do they have? What do they do for fun?

Here are some other posts that might help:

Five Things to Help You Describe Fictional Locations Setting Your Story in an Unfamiliar Place WQA’s Guide to Internet Research Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

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crystaljellie · 10 months ago

Text

I’m doing it I’m yapping.

Okay so my life series fantasy AU

Basically Joel and Jimmy were isekai’d into this fantasy world. Everyone else is already part of the world. Jimmy basically wake up with Grian standing over him (Grian is a parrot Avian in this as per usual) and Jimmy totally freaks out.

And all I know from there is that Jimmy and Grian overthrow Ren and Joel heads to the feywilds and meets Lizzie. Oh and flower husbands meet and kiss by a lake, I’m sure there will be angst I’m getting there

So now actually about the guys

Bdubs

Moss spirit

He lives in the forest and loves to cause chaos

But also he helps people get in an out of his forest because it’s dangerous at night

Being a moss spirit Bdubs body is basically just made up of moss

Bdubs and Grian have issues, and when I say issues Grian causes problems and Bdubs has to deal with the aftermath

BigB

BigB is a fae who lives outside of the fae wilds

He has a bakery in the main city of the kingdom Ren and Martyn rule

He frequently speaks to the royal order something something maybe suspicious things

He’s best friends with Tango who he met through Skizz

Etho

He’s an Arctic fox

He lives in the ice realms which are relatively near the southern realms which is where the kingdom is

Jimmy breaks into his house by accident at some point and Etho just is like

‘This guy is my kid now’

Jimmy has no idea how to escape forcibly assigned son

Scar

A desert elf (desert duo ref)

Scar used to live in the kingdom before moving to the desert realms with Grian (they’re boyfriends)

Scar is a falcon tamer, usually he just tames regular falcons but was called into the city square to deal with a particularly pesky boy which is how he meet Grian

He also still has a wheelchair but it has like magic powers, Scar used his desert elf powers to make it so his wheelchair can drive across sand.

Grian

A Parrot Avian

HE CAUSES PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE

He has little bird legs and he likes to fly onto Scars falcon brace

And he takes shiny things from shops in the kingdom

He’s the one who recommended Scar go back to the desert

Impulse

A Sun Imp

There are lots of different types of Imp’s

Depends which realm they were born it

Impulse was born in the sun realm

Martyn

He’s a wood elf

And he and Ren have issues

Ren and Martyn learn to stop tyrannic ruling

I’m gonna get the watchers involved somehow

He’s being given instructions and visions

He tries to follow them but it only leads to dead ends

Or death

Lizzie

She’s a Fae

And the High Queen of the fae

So she lives in the feywilds

Do her people lowkey kidnap Joel?

Yes but that’s a separate issue

Mumbo

He’s a vampire :3

But instead of drinking your blood he’s more like

Sunburns…

And can’t enter a building without permission

Sometimes you’ll just see Mumbo walking around with an umbrella

Everyone knows he’s a vampire

Sometimes they offer him blood he always says no though he thinks it’s rude of him

Skizz

Skizz is an angel

But he’s also the most unlucky person in the world

He was the first person to buy from Tangos shop and they became good friends because of that

Skizz is aware of the watchers due to his angel origins

Scott

Scott is actually a star born

But he disguises himself as a Sea elf

He lives in solitude behind a waterfall in a flower meadow

He has long elf ears and coral in his hair that looks like it’s arranged slightly like a flower crown

Starborns have the ability to take the magical abilities of their surroundings or their friends, so Scott has magical powers relating to water and flowers, but this can change based on his surroundings in which he can gain additional powers (Water and Flower related powers will not change because he’s lived in the meadow for so long)

Something with him and Acho (his brother) having an argument, causing them to split from each other and adorn disguises heading down to the over realm

Scott has spoken to the royal counsel before but they do not like each other which is why he did not choose to live in the city, He is courteous with them but only really visits the city to speak with Impulse who he made friends with while living in the city.

Starborns being a rarer and more hunted but also very powerful species and kept track of by the royal order so he was mainly there to fill out paperwork

Tango

Tango is a fireborn

Fireborn do not have parents they spawn from fire and are only found in the Nether realms (Not to be confused for the Nether World) At the age of 16 Fireborn creatures will leave the Nether realms to find a home for themselves. The only fireborn who reside pass the age of sixteen are those who are unable to leave or caretakers of fireborn young.

So when Tango was 16 he left to the southern arms to set up a mechanics shop

When Tango gets angry his fire hair goes blue

Tango also had a mechanical arm :3

Pearl

Pearl is a lunar moth

She and Grian are siblings

They cause problems together I love them

I sadly don’t have much for anyone else right now :(

I’m working on it, but they’re my sillies and I can’t wait to make this a fic it’ll be so fun

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mxxnlightwriting · 1 month ago

Text

Writemas Day 1

Thanks to @agirlandherquill for hosting this challenge!

Tari's Note: I'm going to try to make this challenge extra hard for me (because why not) by trying to make all these little stories connected with one another. Let's see how I do! Also, please excuse any typos! I'll be writing these directly here so they'll have minimal editing. Thanks for understanding.

Prompt: A frozen lake Synopsis: Emily returns to her grandfather's cabin and comes face to face with an unexpected visitor. Genre/age group: adult contemporary (I'll probably turn this into a sapphic romance just so you know) Word Count: 0.5k

The lake was as Emily remembered it. Sitting on her grandfather's porch with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands, she glanced at the vast white covering the trees, the mountain peaks reaching towards the sky in the distance.

As a kid, she loved to skate in the frozen lake a few feet away from her. This time of the year used to be her favourite, a time when she got together with her family and they all celebrated the holidays together in the large cabin behind her.

As the smoke twirled from her mug, she stretched her legs and tried to get comfortable. She had spent the last couple of days cleaning everything to try and make this place look better, but the clutter grew like mushrooms in this house. Hopefully, tomorrow she'd finish packing everything and the house would be ready for visitors.

She doubted her sister would stop by anyway. She doubted anyone would join her for the holidays this year.

Emily finished her drink and when she returned inside, her cheeks burned from the temperature difference. She dropped her jacket, gloves, scarf and beanie on the large couch and washed the mug in the kitchen sink. As she grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe it, someone knocked on the door.

"Coming!"

She crossed the small distance between the kitchen and the entrance. Through the small frosted glass near the entrance door, she spotted someone standing outside, pacing around the small landing. Whoever it was, they weren't her sister, so Emily had no idea who it could be.

"Yes?" she asked after opening the door, keeping the lock in place.

Emily hoped whatever this was wouldn't take much of her time. Not that she had anything better to do; but she was enjoying her time alone in the woods.

"Oh, I noticed you had some furniture in the driveway," the person said, turning to her. "Do you want it or are you planning on throwing it away?"

Emily blinked, unsure if her vision was betraying her. The woman standing in front of her was familiar, but different from what she remembered. She had her hair cut short and dyed black, which only made her skin appear paler than what Emily remembered.

Seeing Rae again after all this time was not in Emily's plans. She thought she had moved out like she said she would do all those years ago. Yet, by the looks of it, they were both here again for the holidays.

Past Emily would've jumped up and down at the prospects of it. Present Emily only wanted to disappear and get back to work.

"You can take the furniture," she said, pointing to it in the distance. "It's mostly intact so you can probably still make something out of it."

Rae nodded, her eyes roaming Emily's body before focusing on her face, her lips pressed into a thin line. When she smiled, Emily's heart contorted in her chest in ways she thought forgotten.

"Nice to see you again, Ems," Rae said before shoving her hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans and turning around.

I wish I could say the same, Emily thought as Rae returned to her pick-up truck.

Emily closed the entrance door, leaning her back to it.

It wasn't nice at all to see Rae Mills again.

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scariusaquarius · 2 years ago

Text

the ghost on the shore.

Nixie! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: After the sudden death of your nephew, a sudden detail about that strange lake within the woods piques your curiosity. Unable to withstand the temptation, you decide to see if the legends of the lake were true. Do you wish to reap what you sow?

A/n: LOOK I KNOW I WAS GONNA WRITE A LUIS SERA FIC BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF. I've been dying to write this and since I have motivation (i always do when i'm not at my house for some reason) I was finally able to just sit down and power through this. I hope you guys like it!! and yes, john and jack are from red dead. sue me.

also i listened to this as leons violin music <3 and this

Genre: Folklore, Horror, Angst Rated: Mature Warning: Death, Drowning, Child Death, Cursing, Nudity, Graphic Depictions of Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Slight Gore, idk what else

Author: ScariusAquarius

The water was still.

Sunlight filtered into the lonely forest as twilight entered the realm, covering the trees and floor of the woods in a bittersweet golden jade glow. The birds did not sing, the trees did not whisper, and the animals did not dare make a step as the man played his violin.

He was sitting atop of a mossy and algae-covered rock in the middle of the large lake, his slender fingers skillfully sliding and pressing upon the frets as his rosined bow glided along strings. His music was melancholic; despondent in its tune yet haunting all the same as the sounds bounced off the water and into the air.

Despite the sad melody, he always did enjoy playing his violin for the earth, even though it would often bring unwanted guests to his lake; his home.

He knew he was being watched.

The man, if the divine could call him that anymore, could feel eyes upon him from just beyond the shore. They had been standing there for a few minutes now, enchanted by his violin just as he intended.

He knew it would not be long until the unsuspecting child would give into the whisper within his youthful mind to wade into the waters, and the second his little feet would grace the top of the lake, the man's beautiful song would have to come to an end.

The man turned to the boy on the shore, looking at him with his bright blue eyes, quietly beckoning him to come closer. Listen to my song.

Poor little boy, the man had to think as the boy began to walk into the water, he would not last very long. As the water rose to the boy's chest the closer the child got, the more excited the man's music became. Instead of the haunting melody it had been before, now there was a playful; almost jovial tune beginning to cut through the light of twilight.

The water was up to the boy's neck now, and the man's toes were beginning to curl in excitement as he continued to quietly beckon the child. How much longer would it take? How much more patience would he have to extend to the little child whose little feet could only move so fast in such frigid waters?

The little boy was under the surface of the water now, slowly swimming his way to the rock in which the man sat, little arms flailing as the boy swam the best that he could. The man's music gradually went into a crescendo, going back to that haunting tune, but this time, his melody spelled out disaster.

Tragedy was afoot, and the second the boy placed his hands upon the rock and broke the surface, gasping for air, the man couldn't help but to smile. Allowing the boy to sit with him, the man was almost vibrating with anticipation. The very second that his song came to an end, the man placed down his violin before grabbing the boy by the neck and diving deep down into the water; dragging him down into unnatural depths unusual for a lake.

The water slowly rippled.

-ONE WEEK LATER-

The tears still had yet to dry as you sat on the edge of your bed. Within your hand was a picture, the edges frayed from how much you had been handling the memory, and you bit your lip as you stared down at the boy smiling so widely at the camera.

Your nephew had only been 6 years old.

It had been a complete accident, your brother told you. John had been out in the woods hunting mushrooms with his son when he had decided to make camp since it was getting dark. Jack had claimed that he needed to go to the bathroom, and when he didn't come back, John had tried to search for him. Nightfall, however, came so fast that John was forced to wait until morning.

And then John found Jack's boots by the shore of the lake, and he knew what had happened. When they pulled Jack's clothes out of the lake, John was in so shocked and upset that the medics forced him to go to the hospital.

He'd begun drinking ever since.

When John told you the news, you had been devastated. You had just seen Jack that day, and you could still remember how excited Jack had been to go camping and mushroom hunting with his father. God only knew how much Jack liked being able to spend time with his dad when John wasn't too caught up on work.

Jack's funeral had been earlier in the day. Friends, family, and many of the townfolk who knew and loved Jack had attended. Nobody said a word about John's intoxicated state as he stood before the preacher and the grave, swaying and fiddling with his flask. Eyes ringed in red, bags beneath them, stinking of body odor and cigarettes, John hadn't spoken a single word.

Nobody blamed him.

So, now you sat within Jack's bedroom, looking at all the books that still had bookmarks in them that Jack wouldn't be able to finish, all the model boats and hunting gear his father had bought for him, taking in the scent of the vanilla cookie wax melts Jack always begged John to buy because of how 'yummy' they smelled, as he had said it.

You missed him terribly.

There was a shuffle within the doorway, and you looked up to see John standing there, nursing his flask and swaying as he tried to blink the bleariness of his eyesight away. He couldn't even look into the room, staring down at his muddy boots, and you felt an urge to suddenly cry as you stared at your brother.

"They keep saying the man in the lake got the boy."

His gruff voice was bitter, his grey eyes dark as he glared down at the floor and shifted to catch himself as he suddenly lost balance, and you shook your head. John was quiet for a moment before he whispered, choking up as he held a hand to his mouth.

"I looked away for a second...let him go to the bathroom like he wanted to and he was gone."

"John..."

Your voice was small, confused on what exactly to say, and John shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as tears filled his eyes.

"I hadn't even noticed Jack was gone for too long...had I been more diligent...god, it should have been me."

John fell to his knees, sobbing, and you gathered your brother up into your arms, sniffling as his tears invoked your own. You whispered, not trusting yourself to be able to hold back any sobs alongside John if you spoke any louder.

"It wasn't your fault, John. They said his foot got caught on a fallen tree beneath the water."

"It was the man in the lake, (Y/n). He got him. He has my son."

Legends in the town spoke of a spirit that lived within the lake. Sometimes, he appeared as a man playing the violin, and sometimes, he was a beautiful and majestic stallion that would allow his victims to climb on before dragging them to their watery deaths. Many children and women had gone missing when visiting the lake, but there was never an explanation for why.

One minute, they were there, and the next, they vanished; never to be seen again. Nobody really knew if the legends were true, but the bodies of the missing were never recovered. Only some personal belongings here and there.

That's why Jack's death was so hard. There wasn't even a body to bury. Just an empty casket filled with stones to give a false sense of human body weight.

But even you could tell the casket had been too heavy while pall-bearing.

John was sobbing for a minute before suddenly, snores wracked his body, and you couldn't help but to clutch your brother tighter. Using all your strength, you lifted the broken man up and laid him down on Jack's bed, taking his boots off for him before quietly shutting the door.

Making your way down the stairs, you could see a few of the townsfolk standing in the kitchen, all of them nursing a few drinks and snacks that you had made for after the funeral. They were whispering to themselves, but you could hear the words coming out of their mouths.

"I'm telling you, it was the man in the lake. That boy got enchanted and he got him."

A woman, a lady that you recognized to be the owner of the public library in town, shook her head.

"Daniel, you know there ain't no such thing. Jack probably wanted to go swimming, but you know he hasn't learned how to yet. He was supposed to start lessons with his aunt next week."

A much older fellow that owned the gunstore just beyond the library curled his lips into a grim expression. He was nursing a beer, courtesy of John after he filled the refrigerator with the alcohol.

"Leah, I've been in this town long before you both ever saw the sunrise upon this place. Children, women...they've been disappearing for years...every single one of them...that lake is cursed...has been since this godforsaken town began."

When they noticed you, their expressions of grim secrets and fear was washed off of their faces only to be replaced with looks of sympathy. You swallowed thickly, suddenly angry as they all began to open their mouths to speak, and you couldn't help but blurt out.

"Keep that shit about the man in the lake to yourselves. My nephew is dead, and now my brother is ranting and raving about the damn thing. Jack drowned. No man in the lake got him. The boy fucking drowned. That's all there is too it."

Your voice was shaking, small despite the bite to your words, and you couldn't even bother to wait around to hear what the people had to say. At the moment, you couldn't even care. You couldn't care what any of them had to say.

All you cared about was Jack and your brother.

Sighing heavily when you got out the door, you ran a hand over your face and felt the urge to scream at the top of your lungs. You were trying so hard to hold it together, but it was so hard. For years, you were the one to keep a level-headed mindset. You were the oldest sibling, so it was by design that you were the one to stay calm in dire situations.

But being strong suddenly didn't feel good anymore.

Would it have been different had you been there with them? John had asked you to go, but you had already picked up an extra shift at work to make a bit of extra money so you weren't so worried about being able to pay John's rent that he was behind on to help him out, let alone your own rent.

Biting your lip, you shook your head and glanced at your shoes. They were a bit dirty from walking through the muddy grounds of the cemetery for Jack's funeral, and so you decided that it would be best to call it a night and go home to clean them.

You would think more in the morning.

-TIMESKIP-

It was noon the next day. Your shirt was sticking to your back from all the sweat that was running down your spine as you moved boxes off of the delivery truck and into the shop that you worked at in town with your brother, the hot summer sun beating down on you as you unloaded the vehicle.

The auto shop was fairly empty, save for a few mechanics that weren't on-call and instead working on the vehicles parked inside that still had yet to be fixed. Nobody would speak. It was almost as if they were afraid that you were surrounded by glass and any word they would speak would shatter the box and shatter you next.

You were actually thankful.

Less speaking meant more time to focus on doing your job, and more focus meant you got the job done faster and were able to go home. The sound of the door to the front office opening caught your attention, and you looked over your shoulder to see the boss, a man named Chris, walk in. His brown eyes were firm, steely in his reproach as he made his way to you.

To the rest of the people in the shop, it would look as though Chris was angry, but you knew that expression of worry any day of the week.

"How are you doing?"

You almost grimaced as the words left Chris' lips.

"Doing just fine, I suppose. Just...trying to work and get through."

Chris was quiet for a moment before he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Listen, I know that you usually just deal with things and don't give yourself any real time to process stuff before you go ahead onto the next shit, but I think you should take some time off. I know how much Jack meant to you."

You frowned heavily, stating firmly.

"Chris, I can't just take time off of work. I have bills to pay."

"I'll make it paid leave. I just don't want you to drown in work after what happened with your nephew and the man in the lake."

The man in the lake. Ever since that day, that's all you ever heard. It was hard to bite your tongue and not give your boss any lip, but in the end, you knew it would be futile. Chris was as stubborn as a mule. Whatever he set his mind to, he did it with no second thoughts nor hesitation.

Hell, you were sure he would punch straight through a boulder if he really wanted to, so you just set the last box down onto the dolly and slammed the door shut to the delivery truck before silently walking away.

As you walked down the street towards your car, your eyes caught attention of a newspaper headline from the paper one of the older business owners always read during his mornings in the diner.

MAN IN THE LAKE STRIKES AGAIN: CITY COUNSIL SEEKS ANSWERS

You were certain that you drove 90 the whole way home. When you arrived, John was sitting on the couch in a pair of shorts and a tank top, nursing a beer as he sat in front of the TV. The news was on, the news anchor speaking solemnly.

"Locals are petrified once more as the Man in the Lake strikes again. Tragically, six year old Jack-"

You shut the TV off with a furious click of the remote, John's drunken eyes glaring at you as he slurred out.

"What the fuck. I was watching that."

You shook your head, throwing the remote down onto the coffee table haphazardly, the back of the remote falling off and the batteries rolling onto the carpet below.

"I don't give a shit, John. You're drinking yourself into a grave next to Jack's if you keep going on like this."

John scoffed, muttering as he took another deep drink.

"It'd be best if I did. I'm a piece of shit father that should have never taken him out there."

You grabbed the beer from his hand, giving the man a harsh look.

"Johnathan. I know losing Jack was hard. I'm having trouble even trying to keep it together, but drinking yourself to sleep every night won't bring him back."

John looked angry, opening his mouth to speak, and you sat down in front of him, forcing his hands into your own as you added.

"I miss him. I miss his laughter, his reenactments of whatever fairytale he was reading at the moment, and his cute nose...I miss him being excited to see me when I got time off of work to come hang out with him...I miss watching him devour ice cream like he hadn't eaten in days."

John was quiet, staring at you as tears welled up in his eyes as you sadly laughed, clutching John's hands tightly as you whispered.

"I miss him too, John...and there's a part of me that feels like I'm to blame too because I didn't go on that trip with you guys. Had I been there too, maybe it would have been different. He'd be here with us, watching his cartoons while stuffing his face with your nasty excuse for spaghetti."

John couldn't help but to snort before he began to suddenly sob, clutching your hands as he ducked his head low, stringy hair falling into his face and hiding his expression from you.

"I feel like such a piece of shit, (Y/n). I wasn't a good father, but I tried to be. Ever since...ever since she left, it's been hard...I just didn't think I'd fuck up this badly."

"John, it wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. He wandered off when he knew he wasn't supposed to, fell into the lake, and you and I both know that he didn't know how to swim."

John shook his head, his voice so quiet that you almost didn't hear him.

"I know it was him, (Y/n). I know he took my son and killed him. They never found Jack's body."

You knew what he was referencing. The man in the lake. The evil spirit of the water. The fictional legend the town made up to soothe their grieving hearts. It was almost futile to even tell John that it wasn't real, so you simply sat there with John as he cried, his grip so tight that your fingers had started to go numb.

You'd worry about the ache within your chest in the morning.

Instead, when John had passed out from the drunkenness and the tears he had cried, you had laid him down again and wrapped him up in a blanket. It was hard to watch him become the shell of a man you once knew, but grief was never easy. Jack wasn't your child, so you'd never truly understand the pain, but your heart was just as broken.

You were just trying to stay strong for your little brother.

Settling into your bed, you sighed as you stared up at the ceiling. Sleep was hard to come by nowadays, but you could feel the exhaustion finally catching up to you. Your eyes closed, and you were suddenly dreaming.

You dreamed of water, of hands pulling you under, of cyan eyes that glowed with malice within the murky waters of the lake.

A violin was playing.

The water was still.

-TIMESKIP-

You didn't tell John about the dream. In fact, you didn't tell anybody about it knowing they would stir up a ruckus about how the 'man in the lake' was now coming after you or something stupid like that. You chalked it up to being exhausted and from how much you've been hearing about the damn legend since Jack's death.

Sighing into your cup of coffee, you bit your lip as you stared out of the diner window. The place was busy for a Sunday, most of the customers coming in from the Church down the street, and you could hear a couple talking to each other from behind you. The second they mentioned the legend, your ear automatically tuned in.

"It won't be long until another poor soul goes near that lake, James."

The old man named James sighed, pausing to either take a bite of food or drink his coffee before speaking again.

"None of the youngsters in the town believe in the legend. They haven't been around long enough to know. I keep telling the mayor to put up warning signs, but he won't budge."

The woman scoffed, muttering bitterly.

"That old crone never believed either. The first few deaths, he reported them as being bear attacks!"

James huffed.

"They just don't know any better, Loretta. The man in the lake isn't seen by anyone and lives to tell the tale, so they just don't know."

Your coffee cup was empty, food already eaten, and you were beginning to grow irritated. You were about to ask for the check when the woman named Loretta asked James.

"Do you think the boy was having dreams? Rose said that her little girl had dreams about the man in the lake before she disappeared."

The man hummed deeply, replying lowly.

"We probably won't ever know. God knows the boy's father and aunt are too distraught to think of such a thing, and I've heard from Daniel that the aunt don't believe."

When the waitress came, you silently gave her the money and left, chair screeching from how fast you had stood up and tried to get out of the diner.

You hated small towns.

You hated that everyone knew your business, that everyone you passed gave you such sad and sympathetic eyes, and you hated that everyone was blaming some dumb legend for Jack's death. In a weird burst of determination, you were eager to prove them wrong. You were eager to prove the town that there was no such thing as the man in the lake.

So, you decided that you would make your way to the woods. Sending John a quick text about how you were running some errands and would be back soon, you shut your phone off, got into your old beat-up pickup truck, and began driving towards the forest.

The whole time you drove towards the forest, your knuckles were white from how taut the skin was pulled over bone as you gripped the steering wheel. Man in the Lake this, man in the lake that, why did it always circle back to that dumb man and the lake?

Slamming the truck door shut, you left your phone in the truck, grabbed a pocketknife, a small flashlight just in case, and some granola bars. The lake wasn't too far, but just far enough that you would probably get a bit hungry on the way there.

Weaving in and out of the trees, ducking beneath leaves and long branches, hopping over fallen logs, you were a woman on a mission. You weren't exactly sure what time it was when you began to near John's camp, but the trees were beginning to block out the sun, the forest surrounded within the light of twilight.

It was odd for lunch time.

John's tent had been packed up, his and Jack's personal belongings already recovered, but you could still see the blackened sticks and logs of an old campfire. Looking around, you began to wonder where exactly the lake was located.

Deciding to go with your gut, you took a right and began to walk, a strange sense of foreboding coming over you. The birds did not sing, the trees did not whisper, and the animals did not dare make a step. It was as if the forest had frozen over, keeping itself still as the sudden tune of a violin began to echo through the environment.

It was...beautiful. To you, it sounded sad; a tune of sorrow that had your skin pricking with goosebumps. Who would be out here playing the violin? Maybe one of the townsfolk who didn't believe in the man in the lake was playing for Jack.

The closer you got, the more relaxed you started to feel. The notes soothed you, filled you with a sense of serenity, and you found your feet to be moving on their own. When you arrived at the shore of the lake, you were shocked into such a stupor that you could not move.

A man was sitting on top of a large rock in the middle of the big lake.

Water dripped from his legs, his toes just skimming the surface of the water, and his skin was deathly pale. HIs hair was brown and long in the front, cropped slightly short in the back in the style of a 90's fringe. His eyes were closed as he played his violin, his fingers skillfully pressing and sliding against the strings of his haunting instrument, and you were almost dumbstruck by the way his cupid lips parted to let out a small breath.

He wore no clothes, simply in the nude and thankfully facing to the right so you didn't see anything more than you needed to. His music became slightly louder, and you could hear the slightest whispers in your mind to come closer. Listen to my song.

Your feet dipped into the water, and the water was so cold that you were shocked completely out of the strange trance the man had placed you under.

His eyes finally opened, and they were the most beautiful shade of blue that you had ever seen.

The man turned to you, brows furrowed as his music suddenly stopped, and you were frozen from the fear as his eyes glowed just the slightest within the light of twilight. The two of you stared at one another for a very silent moment, and the wind suddenly blew, making you shiver.

Your voice was soft and shaky as you whispered.

"So they're true?"

The man was silent, simply staring you down with an expression of irritation yet curiosity. He began to play his violin again, the tune more foreboding and disastrous, and you could feel another whisper against your mind.

Come closer. Listen to my song.

Your feet would not move. Something kept your feet planted firmly in the ground, and the man finally turned towards you, his violin becoming angry. The wind picked up, but the water of the lake did not budge. It stayed deathly still, as if it only wanted to ripple if you stepped into it, and you swallowed thickly.

You were strangely unable to speak as if something was keeping you from interrupting the song. Fear rippled through you as well as a strong temptation to get closer. Your eyes were beginning to water from the need to blink, but you were so worried that if you blinked, he would disappear.

The man was growing confused and frustrated.

Why weren't you coming closer? Why wasn't his music entrancing you? You should have been next to him already, enchanted by his song and under his complete control. The man could feel that there was a part of you that was his, but there was another part; an unreachable part that refused to become trapped beneath his spell.

Why were you different?

It scared him. In all the eons that the spirit had lived, he'd never been refused before. Why now? Why were you suddenly an enigma? What made you so special? The man slowly made his song come to an end.

"Do you not like it?"

His voice was frustrated, almost sounding water-logged and vibrated as if he was under water. Within those blue eyes, you could see the confusion and...fear. You spoke to him, feet still planted firmly on the ground though they still felt tempted to move forward.

"It's beautiful...but I didn't come here to listen to your song."

The man looked startled, taken back as your words registered, and he hissed.

"Why are you here then? What makes you different?"

Different? Did he mean that in such a way that you weren't entranced by his song? You frowned and stated.

"I'm here to find out what you did to my nephew. Where is Jack?"

The man's eyes lit up slightly as he spoke, head tilting almost robotically as his words carried through the wind.

"He's with the others."

But where was that? The man almost chuckled as he sensed your confusion and he brought up his violin again, playing a sadder tune that almost had you closing your eyes. You could feel him digging his nails into the tresses of your mind, desperately trying to pull you in, but you shook your head and clutched at your temples.

The music was so loud, it was almost as if he was next to you, and you could hear his voice within your head repeating the words over and over like a mantra.

Come closer. Listen to my song.

Come closer.

Let me hold your broken soul.

You took a step back, gasping in air, and you were disoriented for a moment. Your head was pounding, heart racing within your chest, and you swore that you hadn't been breathing for a while.

The music was gone.

And so was the violinist.

The water slowly rippled.

[END PART ONE]

TAGGING: @backseatmary

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