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flowerpotmage · 1 year ago

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Tight Grip, Broken Dam (3)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: ambiguous relationship, slow burn, big sibling dynamic with gwen stacy

Word Count: 3,106

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

A/n: For the one full Spanish sentence I used spanishdict upon recommendation from more fluent speakers, as my own Spanish barely qualifies as basic (but I am actively studying! hooray). If you are interested in being a language beta/translator, let me know!

“I miss Miles sometimes,” Gwen admits, pushing around a few stray beans on her dish.

You look at her, softening in understanding. “Peter talks about him sometimes. He sounds like a good kid.”

Gwen sighs. “Yeah.”

“Hey,” you say after a moment, leaning across the table a bit. “I don’t blame you. If I had a friend like that, after what you’ve been through? I’d miss him too.” You shrug nonchalantly as images of you holding Miguel, of Miguel holding you, zip through your mind.

She lifts her eyes, looking into yours. “Yeah?”

You nod. “I think they’re too hard on you about it. It’s not like friendship falls into the laps of people like us.”

“Yeah,” she lets out a small puff of air that would barely even qualify as a chuckle if it weren’t for the lopsided, somewhat forced smile on her face.

You let the silence linger, and then; “That’s a lot of half-hearted ‘Yeahs,’ kid. You wanna go get a treat and web up some idiots?”

Gwen laughs. Success.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

And so you do. The two of you suit up and leave for the afternoon to do your spidery duties, swinging and helping and stopping people where needed. You make good on your promise to get treats when the sun begins to set, the two of you walking into a charming ice-cream parlor in full Spider-Person get-up and leaving with milkshakes (“Your world uses printed ceramic for takeout containers?” “Yeah? What do you use?” “We mostly use plastic.” “Dude. That’s so bad for the environment.”) and fresh stamp cards.

You find a place to perch and drink them, somewhere up high where you can take your masks off and relax. Your legs dangle over the ledge and the city is spread out before you, the glass windows of the buildings glittering under the low angle of the sun like a mess of craft store glitter someone tried, and failed, to clean up.

“How do you do it?” Gwen asks, lifting the soft blanket of silence.

You finish your sip, turning to look at her. “Do what?”

“The two lives thing,” she says, looking down at the ceramic takeout cup she holds in her lap.

You look out over the city, blowing air through your lips. “Honestly? I was never great at multitasking.” You pause, watching a crow soar by. “I probably ruined a lot of relationships by prioritizing being the Spider.” She’s lifted her gaze now, staring at you with big round eyes. “And…” you shrug. “I think some things that happened, some choices I made, cost me some people in my life. And… not just socially.”

“Your aunt,” Gwen says softly.

You nod slowly. “I think if she had known, if I hadn’t been so afraid to tell her… I think there’s a chance things could have gone differently.”

Gwen looks at you for a long, long moment.

“But,” you say, voice lighter. “There’s no changing the past. We just gotta do our best with what we have in the present.” You nudge her shoulder. “Even if there’s some things we can’t change, we can still make the most of the rest. Y’know?”

She gives you a small, sad smile, before turning to look at the city. “Yeah. That’s probably a good way of looking at it.”

You swing your legs in the open air over the building’s edge, thumping softly against the brick in slow rhythm as you return to sucking down your shake. You put the cup back down, only dregs left, and look at her again.

She sighs, looking at you once more. “Stop that.”

“Wh-!” You do an exaggerated double take, throwing your hands in the air. “Stop what? I’m not doing anything!”

“The whole ‘sad, sympathetic older-sibling’ look you’re giving me,” she kicks her dangling foot towards your swinging ones, and the two of you get into a mini foot fight that dissolves into easy laughter.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” you raise your hands again, this time in surrender. “Teens, man, so touchy about normal human emotions and bonding,” you push her shoulder and stand, pulling on your mask. “C’mon then. Finish up your shake and we’ll go web up some more doofuses.” With that you web your empty drink into one hand, and with the other you shoot a web to swing off back into the depths of the city.

Gwen shakes her head with a little smile, takes one last sip, and follows on her own rope of web.

“Ready to go? Got all your stuff?”

“Yup!” Gwen replies, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

You lift your wrist, tapping the golden-yellow screen, and your living room turns to molten gold as the portal opens up.

“Alright, get through quick. There’s no way this is good for the houseplants,” you usher Gwen past you into the portal, glancing around the room as she steps through, and then follow close behind.

The portal spits you out at the entrance to the lobby where numerous other Spider-People mingle and wave, greeting you as you make your way through, a chorus of hellos followed by Gwen’s name and your own.

“Spider-Teacher’s in today, yeah?” You ask one particularly young Peter Parker as the two of you cross paths.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he nods rapidly. “I just left his office.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder.

“Great. Good to see ya,” you wave as you pass and continue further into HQ. When you and Gwen come to a crossroads, you stop. “I’ll leave you to it,” you say. “I'm gonna see if Peter’s around with Mayday.”

“He’s probably with Miguel,” Gwen says, ever so slightly emphasizing his name and dragging out the L.

“Uh-huh,” you say, pretending not to notice her pointed look and teasing smirk. “Maybe.”

Gwen gives a little wave and then she’s off, swinging through the walkway beams towards where Spider-Teacher’s office is.

You move to the side, out of the way of foot-traffic to stand on a wall, and call Peter B. on your watch.

His head and shoulders appear, floating above the screen.

“Garden Spider!” His enthusiastic voice greets you, and you chuckle at the nickname. “How are you? I sure hope this is a social call or I’ll be suuuper bummed out.”

His smile is contagious, so you laugh. “Yeah, yeah it's a social call. Are you at HQ? I have some time to kill and figured I could say hi to you and the baby.”

“Absolutely! You know, I was just showing Miguel some pictures, she had her first apricot last week, and–” Peter’s cut off by something, and he glances over his shoulder. “You’re doing fine, just a sec.” He looks back to you and lowers his voice. “I’m in Miguel’s lab, you wanna come by? He’s a little cranky today, though, so you might wanna bring a peace offering from the caf.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Great! See ya soon.”

“See ya.”

The holo call ends and you swing off to the cafeteria, figuring you might as well get lunch for all three of you, and maybe a snack for Gwen too for when she's done. So you order her a burrito, Miguel the usual empanadas and–

Your eye catches on a new menu item.

“No fucking way.”

“Yes way,” a random Spider-Man next to you in line replies, seeing what you’re looking at. “And they’re actually pretty good.”

You grin, turning to the cashier. “Two of the special, please.”

Peter greets you by name and wide open arms when you reach the lab. You return it with one arm, your other holding the food you’ve brought from the cafeteria.

“Hey Peter,” you pat his back companionably. “I didn't know if you were hungry or not so I brought some food for you too, just in case.”

“Excellent,” he releases you and rubs his hands together in a show of exaggerated excitement. When he glances over his shoulder into the main lab behind him like an unplugged bouncy castle.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s been overworking the last few days. Probably not getting enough sleep again, too,” he says quietly as the two of you begin to walk down the hall.

Guilt wraps its hands around your ribs, pulling them tight to squeeze around your lungs.

“Oh,” you manage to say. “Well, maybe we can get him to take a break for long enough to eat with us.”

Peter pats your shoulder, and then the hallway gives way to Miguel’s lab. You’ve been here enough times in a professional capacity that you should be used to the dim light, and your eyes are at least, but it still strikes you as rather Draculaic.

You’re sure if you mentioned that, he’d go on another one of his ‘I don’t understand why everyone continues to compare me to a vampire, they all know the fangs are a spider mutation and I don’t drink blood-’ rants.

The first thing you note is that his working platform is already lowered, his back to the hallway as he works, a gloved hand moving through the air across the yellow holo screens. The second thing you notice is the sleeping, redheaded, chubby baby cradled in his arm and drooling on his suit.

Something new rattles against the inside of your ribcage, elbowing the guilt aside.

“Miguel!” Peter calls. “Garden Spider brought lunch, take a break and eat with us!”

Miguel turns, his eyes land on Peter and then immediately flick to you.

“You are overdue for lunch,” Lyla says by his shoulder.

“Hey,” you smile and lift the bag of food. “I brought you two of those empanadas that Jess always gives you grief about.”

His eyes flick to the bag, then back to your face. The ghost of a frown tugs the corners of his mouth down. “They’re good empanadas.”

“You don't gotta defend ‘em to us man,” Peter says. “Now are you gonna get down from there and eat with us, or what?”

Miguel jumps down from the platform, using his free hand to keep May secure against his chest. She sleeps through the drop, something you’d find surprising with any other kid, but with what she and Peter get up to…

As Miguel walks to Peter to hand May back to him, you move to perch on one of the clear level surfaces and set the food down, taking the containers out from the to-go bag. Peter and Miguel join you after May is securely back in the baby carrier perpetually strapped to her father’s chest.

“Empanadas for you,” you pass Miguel the first takeout box, offering a small smile. He accepts, pausing minutely when your eyes meet, before looking away and taking one of his gloves off with his teeth. “A burger for Peter,” you say when you manage to pull your eyes away, and hand him the next box. “Aaand one for me.”

“Oh, I can’t wait. You know I love burgers. You know, when I first met—Woah. Oh my god,” he bursts into laughter. “What is this?”

“What is what?” Miguel asks dryly, opening his food with his now ungloved hand.

“Dude, they made you into a burger!” Peter places a hand on Miguel’s shoulder, holding out his open food container of burger and fries.

Miguel turns his head to look. He wrinkles his nose, eyes snapping to Peter who doesn’t even flinch. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s the Spidey Special,” you say with as best of a straight face as you can muster, opening your own box.

Miguel looks at you, eyes flicking down to your own open container and back to your face before he looks up into the air exasperatedly. “Dios mío, me convirtieron en una hamburguesa… You’re killing me here.”

“I take it you had no idea?” A bit of your smile escapes your efforts to contain it.

Miguel rolls his head to look at you. “Do you really think I would have allowed it if I did?”

You smile fully. “Fair enough.” You look towards Peter, who’s already started to eat, and ask; “How is it?”

“‘S d’lish’ss.”

“Wonderful.” Miguel remarks, voice dripping with sarcasm. He takes a bite of his empanada.

“C’mon,” Peter says, holding the burger out towards Miguel. “Try yourself! You taste great.”

You nearly choke on your first bite of your own burger, Miguel turning his head to look at you with a slightly furrowed brow. You wave him off. “”M fine, ‘m fine,” you say, patting your chest.”

“C’mon,” Peter says again, waving the burger towards Miguel again, who can barely repress his wrinkled nose.

Knowing Peter won’t give up, you interrupt.

“You can always have a bite of mine if you don’t want Peter’s half-eaten mess,” you say, nerves suddenly dancing in your chest when Miguel looks you directly in the eye.

“Oy!” Peter says.

Miguel looks at the box you offer to him, your burger sitting neatly inside with only a single bite taken out. His eyes sweep back up to yours, and he sets his takeout box aside. When he accepts your food his fingers brush over your knuckles with all the gentleness and warmth of a sleepy cat’s tail.

The gaze is finally broken when he turns forward to take the burger out of the box, and something high in your chest jumps and heats like a firework smoke-bomb on a chilly summer night as his mouth closes over where your own single bite had been. His eyes return to yours, flicking down and back up so quickly that if you didn’t have your radioactive spider induced super-senses you’d think you were mistaken.

“‘S fine,” he says, swallows, and places the burger back into the box. He passes it back to you, lowering his gaze.

Peter scoffs and mumbles: “Uh-huh. No taste.”

Miguel eats, occasionally watching while you and Peter catch up. You show him pictures of your largest plant’s newest leaf and he shows you pictures of May, who wakes up part way through the meal and climbs into your arms.

“Hi sweet l’il Mayday,” you coo, bouncing her in your arms, sending her into a fit of giggles while Peter takes pictures.

“I should get back to work,” Miguel says, abruptly standing from his seat.

You, Peter, and even May both stop and look at him.

“Oh, um–”

“Thank you for the meal.” Miguel leaps back up to his platform.

Your stomach sinks.

“I… should probably get Mayday home,” Peter says, making meaningful eye contact with you and gently taking a once again giggling May from your arms and sliding her into the carrier. He nods his head towards Miguel, widening his eyes pointedly at you. “I’ll see ya later boss!”

Miguel doesn't reply as his platform starts to move back upwards, so Peter slips out, leaving the two of you alone.

“Miguel?” You ask from your seat by the empty food boxes.

He doesn't reply, the acknowledging tilt of his head is the only indication he’s heard you.

You pick under your nails and glance around the room before standing to brush off any crumbs that might have landed on your suit. You take a breath to beat back the hands once again grabbing and squeezing your ribs, and shoot a web that swings you up to his platform. His shoulders tense at the sounds of your feet landing on the metal.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Are you-?” you reach out a hand to touch his back, the muscles that cover his shoulder blade, too short to reach his shoulder-proper without encroaching much too close into his space.

Your watch beeps, Gwen’s holo appears out of the screen, and you pull your hand back before it reaches home.

“Shit,” you mumble, then at a normal volume; “Hey Gwen!”

“Hey,” she smiles. “I just finished up with teacher Spidey, where are you?”

“Oh, I just finished lunch with Peter and Miguel–”

Even in miniature holo form you can see the suppressed smirk and raised eyebrows.

“Cool, cool,” she says with pretended nonchalance. “Do you want to just meet me back at your place?”

“I, uh–” you glance at Miguel’s tense, slumped shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah I’ll see you in just a bit.”

“No rush!” She says with a cheeky grin.

You open your mouth to reply, but her holo is already gone.

“...Cheeky.”

Your eyes snap to Miguel, who's quirking an eyebrow over his shoulder at you. Your face warms. He turns back to his screens, and you cross your arms, wrapping them around your middle in an approximation of a hug. You rock back and forth a few times on the balls of your feet. “Sooo… Peter said you've been working a lot.”

Miguel’s hand pauses in its path through the air from one screen to the next before it continues. “I always work a lot. It's kind of my whole thing.”

You sigh through your nose. “Yeah.”

Silence sits like a fat cat uncomfortably kneading on one's kidneys until he speaks again.

“How is your work going? Your day job, I mean. At the paper.”

You blink. “Oh, uh it's fine. I'm ahead of schedule so I'm taking a day or two between stories.”

He nods. “Good. That’s uh, good.”

Silence, again.

“Do you… Do you want some company while you work?”

Miguel turns to look at you, something soft and vulnerable in his eyes. This Miguel you recognize all too well. So you offer a small smile, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah. Alright.”

You perk up. “Can I help at all, then?”

He quirks an eyebrow, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his slight smile. “Leave it to me and Lyla for now.”

You chuckle slightly, leaning against one of the consoles carefully so as to not press any buttons. “Yeah… Probably better if I don’t.”

He frowns. “Don’t do that.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Do what?”

He gestures his hand vaguely, crossing his arms in a reflection of your own. “Say that all… self deprecatingly.”

“Oh, I didn’t–”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay,” you lift your hands in surrender, laughing lightly. “Point taken.”

“Good,” he smiles, turning back to his own console. “Lyla.”

“Hiii,” the virtual personal assistant pops into existence in the space by his right shoulder. “And hiiii to you too!” She says in a singsong voice, wiggling her fingers at you in greeting.

“Hi Lyla,” you give a little smile and wave back, and then settle in to observe while Miguel works.

This time the silence sits like it usually does with you two: gently, like a warm blanket.

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#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #spiderverse x reader #x reader #spider man 2099 x reader #spider man 2099 x you #gender neutral reader

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lunarthecorvus · 3 months ago

Note

You said you’ve read multiple fics where Wylan and Kaz’s moms were friends, can I get the links?

Kaz Brekker's Mother's & Marya Hendriks fanfiction recommendations

part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

-------------------------------✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧----------------------------------

blood of my blood by @garbagef4iry

Wordcount: 9,332 Chapters: 9/9

Characters: Kaz Brekker's Father, Kaz Brekker's Mother, Original Characters, Marya Hendriks, Jan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker

Tags: Women’s Rights Movement, city girl x country boy, Misogyny, Badass Women, mentions of abuse and violence, late victorian england vibes, Prequel

Author's summary/notes: As Kaz struggles in his confidence with becoming a father, he yearns for his own. For both of his parents. This is the story of his mother and father— Wilhelmina Trapp and Abram Rietveld. My summary/notes: I love this fic so much. You have badass women fighting for the women's right movement, I'm obbsessed with Kaz's mum in this, and it has Anika's parents?! Also Marya my beloved <3 and how she ended up where she did + so many other original characters

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Keeping Me Alive by @martinakl13

Wordcount: 510,662 Chapters: 175/?

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Jan Van Eck, Marya Hendriks, Anika Imogen, Alys Van Eck, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Original Characters, Jakob Hertzoon, Inej Ghafa's Father, Jordie Rietveld, Specht, Per Haskell, Jarl Brum, Pim, Keeg, Roeder, Tante Heleen, Pekka Rollins, Colm Fahey, Asha, Hanzi, Big Bolliger, Oomen, Hanne Brum, Saskia Rollins, Kaz Brekker's Father (Mentioned), Kaz Brekker's Mother (mentioned), Matthias Helvar's Sister, Matthias Helvar's Father, Matthias Helvar's Mother, Genya Safin, Reyem Yul-Kaat, Nikolai Lantsov, Zoya Nazyalensky

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Gambling, Dyslexia, Trauma, Violence, Past Child Abuse, Mixed Martial Arts, Past Character Death, Touch-Averse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing, Implied/Referenced Sex, Alcohol, Hacking, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Slow Burn, Jordie Rietveld Lives, Soft Inej Ghafa, Soft Kaz Brekker, Drug Use, Depression, Kaz Brekker Needs a Hug, Mutual Pining, Inej Ghafa Needs a Hug, Eating Disorders, Drug Addiction, Survivor Guilt

Author's summary/notes: A boy who lost everything and is still fighting for his chance at a better life. A ballerina who wants to make her dream come true. A soldier running away from a terrible truth. A multilingual girl, abandoned by her own family, trying to find her place in a world. A talented musician who struggles to overcome his father's prejudice and mistrust. A boy who solves his problems by making bad decisions. Six students of University of Ketterdam deal with their past and traumas to find love, understanding and friendship. My summary/notes: I have recommended this fic before so I won't add any new notes but although it is only in the background they do speak about Marya and Kaz's mothers shared past friendship. Also, Martina is so sweet and such a great author with so many other soc fics so go check them out

you'll get the green light (and i'll get the old door in the face) by @honeii-puff

Wordcount: 698 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Marya Hendriks, Wylan Van Eck (Mentioned), Alys Van Eck (mentioned), Plumje Van Eck (mentioned), Jesper Fahey (Mentioned), Kaz's Father (mentioned), Kaz's Mother (mentioned),

Tags: no beta, Title from Problems (Mother Mother)

Author's summary/notes: In which Mayra Hendriks invites Kaz Brekker for tea twice, and one time he accepts My summary/notes: I know this fic is short and only talks a bit about it, I still think its sweet and is great ground to think about the friendship more.

These are the only fics I can find now, I will keep on the look for the others, and if anyone has a fic with this friendship feel free to let me know and I'll read it and rec it <3

#six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #crooked kingdom #soc #wylan hendriks #marya hendriks #kaz brekkers mother #soc fanfiction #six of crows fanfic #lunars fanfiction rec series ☾₊ ⊹#lunars fanfic recs #lunars fanfiction recs

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rayslittlekitten · 2 years ago

Text

Heavyweight

A/N: Okay so I've had this idea floating around for a long while. This is inspired by Commitment Issues written by the lovely @coweye. I'm not a Benny person but this series really got me hooked. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it. This was also inspired by "Emily" by James Arthur (YT link below) and this whole music video formulated in my head but I really wanted to write this so the challenge was to translate this music video in my head into a fic. The music video, I imagined more like intercuts and no dialogue at all. Basically a montage of key parts of the fight and also him warming up and getting ready for the fight and slo mo shots. I can go on and on about how I imagined this music video so let me stop there lol, but I hope this also gives the same feel that I've been going for. Also, thanks to @musings-of-a-rose for beta reading this for me! Enjoy!

Rating: T? (for violence)

Word Count: 1517

Plot: Benny has a lot weighing on him.

Contains: mild violence? (MMA fighting), a little blood, mentions of pregnancy and birthing

Benny keeps his head down, focusing on his hands as his brother carefully wraps them.

"How does that feel?" Will asks.

Benny forms a fist and then opens his hand back up, flexing it back and forth to test the tightness and comfortability.

"Feels good," Benny nods.

While waiting for his fight, Benny warms up to keep himself distracted. After some stretching and doing some mitt work with Will, he jumps rope for a bit while trying to keep his mind clear, counting each jump as he makes it. Counting is a method Will uses to stay grounded and focused. It’s never worked for Benny but he’ll try just about anything right now.

Minutes before it's time for him to walk out, he takes a few moments to himself. Will leaves him alone with just his thoughts and there are more of them than usual. He pulls out a sonogram out of his locker and looks at it. He silently makes a little prayer and finishes just in time when Will interrupts.

"Hey, you're up."

Benny turns to look back at his brother and nods before kissing the picture and putting it away.

"You ready for this?" Will asks, grabbing both sides of his face.

"Hell yeah," Benny nods.

Will lays a gentle slap on Ben's face before gripping his shoulders.

"Hell yeah, you got this. Come on!"

The brothers walk down the wide empty hallway. The plain white walls and overhead fluorescent lighting makes it look sterile. As they continue making their way, they pass under a flickering bulb.

"From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing six foot three, weighing in at 195 pounds... Ben Miller!"

When they enter the venue, the crowd goes crazy. Rock music fills the space and bright lights flash. The venue is sold out and "Benny" can be heard chanting. Ben's chest puffs out and his stance tall as his eyes are only focused on the octagon while he makes his way inside the cage. He's even tuned out all the noise and staying in fight mode.

When he gets inside the cage, he loosens up his limbs while waiting for his opponent. Will says something to him from his corner and he nods while staring down the guy on the opposite side of the ring. Ben makes his way to the center where the ref is. After quickly reciting the rules, they bump gloves and the bell goes off.

Round 1:

The men start dancing around each other, feeling each other out. They both take turns testing out their jabs, seeing how the other would react. The crowd roars when Benny gets the first hit. Benny catches a hook and stumbles back before falling. His face hits the mat and his opponent gets right on top of him. Before he can react, another blow hits his cheek.

"Arms up, Benny! Protect your head!" Will shouts.

Benny blocks the next hit when he finally brings his arms up. He curls up on his side while also protecting his midsection.

“Don’t give him your back!”

Benny is able to turn over onto his back but his opponent tries to mount him. Benny uses his legs to put some distance between them, preventing his opponent from getting the advantage. The opponent swoops for a hook but Benny is able to quickly roll away and get back on his feet. The crowd cheers at his recovery.

The two are back dancing.

Round 2:

Benny catches a kick and with his height advantage, brings up the leg and makes his opponent lose balance. His opponent hops on one leg trying to stay up as he swings at Benny, eating a jab or two but he’s unaffected.

The leg gets yanked from under Benny’s arm and he gets push kicked, causing him to take a few steps back. Both now have their hands up, anticipating each other's next move. His opponent throws a few jabs, testing his reach as Benny dodges them.

"Come on, Benny! Stop fucking around!" Will screams.

Benny cautiously inches closer to the man in front of him and gets a jab in. Feeling more confident, Benny takes another step and throws a cross which gets dodged. Feeling bold, Benny charges at him, wrapping his arms around his hips and trying to take him down. His opponent throws hammer fists at his back trying to get him off. Instead, Benny lifts him up and throws him down on the mat. Whistles and applause emerge from the crowd.

Round 3:

Benny's gloves are over his head and face as he gets plummeted with punches. He finds his back against the cage. As he tries to get away, his opponent's right fist collides with his face right as the bell rings, making Benny stumble back, almost completely losing his footing if it wasn't for the support behind him. By the look of the offender's face, his advances didn't produce the result he was hoping for. He was sure that would knock Benny out, especially after the countless blows. Will isn't the only one with a hard noggin.

"Fuck!" Benny shouts and then makes his way back to his corner with clenched fists and jaw.

"Fuck!" he echoes as Will wipes his bruised and bloodied face down with a towel.

"Hey," Will starts.

Benny is staring down the man on the opposite side as Will cleans up the new cut on his cheek and continues to coach him. His opponent looks back just as intensely as both of their chests rapidly rise and fall.

"Benny! Are you listening?" Will smacks his face.

"Yeah, stay on the ground."

"Look at me," Will says.

"Hey, look at me!" he repeats and forces his brother to make eye contact. "You got this, okay? I know you have a lot going on in here-" he says pointing to the top of his head. "And a lot going on here too," now pointing to his heart.

"But don't worry about that," Will continues. "Because she's gonna know her daddy is a contender. You owe yourself this last fight to go out like the fucking champ that you are. Do you hear me?"

Benny nods.

"You got this," Will reminds him. "Now finish this!"

Round 4:

Benny nods again, but with more assurance behind it. He then lets out a roaring scream while punching his gloves together. He jumps up and puts his fists up, ready and charged up to continue the fight. Bobbing and weaving, bouncing side to side, he makes his way closer to his opponent. After touching gloves, the bell rings immediately and he instinctively dodges the jab thrown at him and counters one with his own, hitting his opponent in the ribs, quickly followed by a hook to his liver. His opponent stumbles before falling.

Benny jumps on top of him, successfully mounting him and then rains punches down his face and head. His opponent curls in as he protects himself, allowing Benny an opportunity to slip behind him. With Benny's long legs wrapped around his opponent's waist, he's able to slip an arm around his neck after a few attempts.

"Yes! You got this!" Will shouts while shaking the cage.

After successfully putting the man in a headlock, Benny arches back, holding his torso down while pulling back on his head, stretching the opponent out. The crowd goes wild.

"BEN-NY! BEN-NY!"

The chanting encourages Benny and he uses all his might to keep his opponent straightened out as he continues to put more pressure on his neck. The thrashing continues in his arms.

"Put him to sleep!" Will yells.

Benny grunts and gives a little more squeeze, keeping his opponent in place and holding on for his life. Finally, he feels tapping and the ref's hands on him, trying to pull him away. Benny instantly releases his defeated opponent and gets to his feet. Deafening cheers erupt and he roars as he bounces around the ring, throwing his fists in the air.

When Will jumps into the cage to celebrate his brother's win, Benny collides with him, wrapping his arms around his best corner man. A man who will eventually become the godfather to his unborn child.

***

Benny walks as fast as he can down the hallway with Will behind him trying to catch up, the white light above illuminating him more as he passes under them. Their pacing picks up and they're practically running at this point.

In the room, Benny is holding onto his girlfriend’s hand and coaching her through the birthing. She cries when she sees the baby, holding her against her body.

Benny cradles the wrapped newborn baby in his arms, being very careful. He stares down at her, studying every little part of her. Her eyes are barely open and her face is so small and squishy. He brings his pointer finger up and gently nudges his daughter’s fist. He smiles when she grabs onto his large finger, barely able to wrap her hand around it.

“Your daddy may have had his last fight, but I promise to never stop fighting for you.”

youtube

#garrett hedlund #garrett hedlund fanfiction #benny miller #ben miller #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #Youtube

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themerchntofvenice · 6 years ago

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This pic brings me such Joy.......like.......for reals.

SO IT BEGINS.

#such excite #fountain pen #leuchtturm1917 #love when writers have good tools #working by hand #true heros #also: intense love for this fic #beta!puff reads #beta!puff recommends

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years ago

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Breathe

Next Part - Exhale

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader Rating: M

Notes: Just a Jonathan oneshot. Not beta-read. May have a second part but uhhhh haven't decided.

Warnings: Mutual pining; mentions of divorce; weed smoking; angst; fluff; Reader teaches with Jonathan Summary: You’re both quite high, but you’re a little more controlled than he is. Well, it’s not your first time. You think he’s handling it pretty well, though. He’s had a couple of bouts of pure giggliness for no reason at all, and they’ve begun and tapered off all on their own.

But now he’s watching you.

He’s staring at it like it’s a bomb that’s set to go off, a grenade that’s just had its pin pulled. You arch your brows curiously, chin tipping toward your chest a little bit as you shake the baggie, the two joints making a little shushing sound against the plastic and each other.

“You don’t have to do this if you’re changing your mind,” You offer.

“No! No, I’m—I mean, I am curious. I wouldn't have asked you about it if I wasn't.”

It had been a nervous hedging as you'd walked back to your office after a faculty meeting. You'd had a couple of puffs before, and clearly hadn't used enough listerine or body spray to cover the slight scent. He's had the same look on his face, the same nervous smile and darting, nervous interest in his eyes.

“Uh-huh.”

“But it’s just, you know,” He shakes his head, nervously adjusts his glasses, “It’s—It’s…New to me.”

“Uh-huh.”

Jonathan nods warily, eyes darting between the baggie and your face.

“I can just leave ‘em here,” You offer, “And you can uh…You can smoke ‘em if you want to. I recommend stashing them in a coffee can. Covers the smell.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah.” He clears his throat uncomfortably, glancing around the kitchen, presumably toward wherever he keeps the coffee. Your brows arch.

“Or…I can take them with me and you can forget they were ever here.”

You can see thoughts forming in Jonathan’s mind and branching off, one after the other. There are so many, and they grow so quickly that you think they could branch out of his ears at any moment. He finally manages,

“Ah…Ava’s not home, and she’ll be…You know, for a few days.”

“Right.”

“So could you—Could we…?”

Your brows shoot up as he trails off, and he chuckles, tipping his head forward as he adjusts his glasses self-consciously.

“Yeah,” You nod, filling in his blank, “We can light up.”

He’s watching you. When you’ve gotten the look from others before—that sort of half-glazed, slow-blinking, appraising gaze—it’s sent a wave of anticipation over you. Now, whatever you feel is dampened by the smoke. It’s new to get the look from Jonathan. It’s newer still to get it from him when he's sitting on a closed toilet lid, smoking his brains out for the first time. You’re close. Maybe you’re too close. You’re sitting on the windowsill, feet tucked between his thighs and the toilet seat to steady yourself. There’s a cool early winter breeze pushing in through the window, shudders shoved aside to let the air in and the smoke out.

You’re both quite high, but you’re a little more controlled than he is. Well, it’s not your first time. You think he’s handling it pretty well, though. He’s had a couple of bouts of pure giggliness for no reason at all, and they’ve begun and tapered off all on their own.

But now he’s watching you.

You smile a little, leaning down and gently prising the half-smoked joint from his fingers.

“How are you feeling down there, Levy?”

“...You remember when we met?”

It’s a strange answer to your question, but maybe that’s why he’s been staring at you.

“That’s what you’re feeling? Nostalgic?” You press lightly.

“You were in such a bad mood,” Jonathan chuckles. You can't help but smile as he ignores your questions and tips his head back against the cornflower blue wall. The color is dulled and greening in the bathroom’s yellowing lamp light; you think it may be more hospitable in the daylight, but right now is nearly how you feel—muted.

“I was in a bad mood?”

“Mhm. I didn't know it then, but I know it now. I know better now,” He insists, head tipping to the side a little to meet your eyes. “You were in that weird…You were doing that thing you do where you go all quiet on people. You were quiet that day.”

You’re quiet for a moment now, just taking him in—the dark blue sweater that he wears that’s going to hold the scent of the weed smoke, and the smoke of the cigarette you think he may switch to afterward; the way his greying curls sprawl over his forehead; his slightly red-bloodshot eyes behind the frames of his glasses.

“...I didn’t know anyone,” You point out, “First day in the department, I couldn’t find my office, and—and I was just shy, that’s all.”

“You?”

“Yes—”

“You, shy? No, come on. That’s not you. You've never been shy in your life.”

His conviction makes your chest flutter.

“It’s not me now because I know you, but it was me that day—shut up!” You insist, reaching out and giving Jonathan’s shoulder a light shove as he descends into giggles again. You can’t help but grin at the sight, raising the joint to your lips and pulling in deeply. You shake your head, averting your gaze from Jonathan. You can’t be the one staring—you won’t let yourself be the one staring, but he looks so…So fucking happy. It’s like the cloud that’s hung over his head since his wife left has been sapped and replaced with the smoke.

You push the smoke out through your nose, tapping the ashes out of the window before you turn to look outside. It smells like rain, but it’s cold enough to snow. It may be that awful freezing rain—the kind that falls like pellets and stings when it hits your skin.

“Why are you thinking about that?” You ask as Jonathan’s giggles taper and slow. You keep your eyes set carefully outside, wary that you’ll become addicted to the sight of this bright, open, grinning, smoke-addled Jonathan.

“...I don’t know.”

Jonathan’s admission sounds soft and small, nothing like the boisterous giggly tone he had a few moments ago. You draw in another quick drag before you hold out the joint. It’s a moment before Jonathan’s fingers brush yours, pushing goosebumps up your arms. You can pass it off as a cold if he asks, but you don’t think he will. He takes his damn time, knuckles brushing your palm as he takes the joint from you, his eyes set on yours.

“How are you feeling?” You ask again. It’s an easy, almost hopeful lob. Until a moment ago, he was in a good-ish mood, but now he sounds like he’s drawing back a bit.

“Floaty,” He admits, raising the joint to his lips.

“Good floaty?”

“Mm,” He holds the smoke in, voice tight with it, “I think so.” “Good.”

Jonathan pushes the smoke out, lips pursed to the side to direct it to the window.

“...I’m hungry,” He admits. He sounds as if he’s just realized it, as if he’s never been hungry before. “Are you hungry? I’m starving—and fuck, I’m so—my tongue feels like sandpaper and my throat is like,” He makes a hacking noise, waving toward his throat. You snort, wiggling your toes to spur him to shift a little.

“I’ll go get us some glasses,” You offer, sliding your feet out from beneath his thighs.

“I can get them.”

"No, no—"

"Lemme get them—"

“I know you have the ability, Levy," You insist, waving him to stay where he's half-risen from the toilet, "But just sit there and uh—float, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You take your damn time walking downstairs and getting glasses from the cabinet. You know better than to fill them with water and carry them upstairs—it’ll just slosh everywhere. You’ll just fill them with tap water when you get back upstairs. You look around as you go down and up again. It’s fascinating, the way Jonathan has narrowed his and Ava’s worlds to the lower floor of the house. It’s probably for the best, hell—two floors seems like so much space for the two of them, and better still that the two of you are smoking in the bathroom that’s hardly ever used anymore. You give a warning knock and pause for a warning before you walk into the bathroom again.

Jonathan’s stood up by the time you come back in, his head hanging out of the window like a dog poking its head through a car window.

“...Y’alright in here?” You ask, walking closer slowly.

“It’s so cool out.”

The words are a little muffled. You can't help but grin.

“Yeah, it’s uh…It’s November. In Boston,” You chuckle. You walk over the sink and fill both glasses before heading over to the toilet again. You set one on the windowsill beside him before raising yours to your lips and taking a cooling swig. You sigh softly at the feeling before you reach out, poking his elbow. He leans back in, cheeks ruddy from the cold. He glances down, spotting the glass, then takes it up, draining it in three gulps. You snort, watching him.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely better. And the air, I think it really, uh,” He waves from the window to his head, then back to the window. “I think it helped, I was starting to feel a little…Fuzzy.”

“I thought you were floaty.”

“I was fuzzy and floaty. The fuzz has cleared. Standing up was good for that, too.”

“Mm. And the float?”

“Still present.”

“Happy with that?”

“It’s pretty good…I’m still hungry, though.”

“Wanna get pizza? My treat.”

“This is the best pizza I’ve ever had.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I mean if I ever wanted to...fuck a pizza…”

You cackle through your mouthful as Jonathan stares lovingly at the half-eaten pizza slice in his hand.

“Do you want me to give you guys some space?” You tease before taking another bite of your food. “My slice and I could go sit in the backyard—”

“No, no. You stay right here—”

“Two’s company, three’s a crowd.”

“There’s four of us if we count your slice.”

“Mm, touché.”

“So this is more like a double date.”

You snort, shaking your head and setting your slice down. You prop your elbows up on the table, setting your chin on your hand.

“Chew and swallow, Levy,” You warn as you watch him take a bite and then swallow it almost immediately.

“I wanna inhale it,” He mumbles around his next mouthful.

“I wanna not have to perform CPR.”

“What, you wouldn’t save me if I choked on this thing?”

“I mean I’d have to watch a Youtube video on how-to first, so I don’t think you’d make it. Time is of the essence with things like blocked airways.”

“Said the pot to the asthmatic.”

“Literally the pot?”

“Literally—No, that’s good. That’s good,” Jonathan chuckles, waggling the crust of his pizza at you before he takes another bite.

You smile, reaching down and picking a piece of pepperoni off of your slice, popping it into your mouth. The two of you go quiet, save for the sounds of your eating and drinking. Between the two of you, the pizza’s whittled down to a single slice within the hour.

“...It’s getting late,” You comment softly, “I should go.”

“You gonna drive?”

“After how much we smoked? Nah, that would be stupid. I’ll just get a car or something.”

You pull your phone out, beginning to swipe through it. It’s a few moments before Jonathan starts,

“You could just—...You know.”

But this time you don’t know. You don’t know if it’s the weed, or if he just hasn’t made himself clear, but you’re not taking his meaning.

“I could just what?”

Jonathan drags the offer over the finish line:

“You could just stay here.”

You expect to kip on the couch, but there you are, climbing into Jonathan’s bed. It’s a little bit of a tight squeeze between the desk and the shelves. You borrow a pair of his boxer shorts and leave on your tank top. You realize belatedly that Jonathan will need to wash his shorts, as they’re likely to wind up smelling like the weed scent that clings to your top.

“...When’s the last time you slept with someone?” Jonathan asks. It’s a hazy mumble; his eyes are half-open, torn between drifting off and squinting at you without his glasses. You think for a moment.

“When you say slept…Do you mean had sex, or been asleep with someone?”

“Second one.”

“Mm.”

“Or the first—Or both, or neither, you know. Whatever you wanna share.”

You smile as the jittery tone begins to creep back into Jonathan’s voice.

“The last time I was asleep with someone…Was a long time ago. A few years, maybe.”

“...And sex?”

Your brows raise at his prying, and Jonathan sputters a laugh, raising his hands and scrubbing at his eyes as he rolls onto his back.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, “That was—I think I’m still high. Fuck.”

You smile, tucking your hands beneath your cheek and watching him.

“You’re definitely still high,” You reassure, “Don’t worry about it. Last time I had sex was…A while ago.”

“...How long’s a while?” Jonathan’s head tips toward you, tongue sweeping his lip. The flash of slick pink makes your stomach twist. You shrug a little.

“A while,” You reiterate. Jonathan nods, raising his hands in mock surrender before he sets them on his chest again. He gives a gentle rub, brow furrowing.

“You okay?” You ask, sitting up a little. You’ve seen how quickly his asthma can well up, and how suddenly.

“Yeah. Yeah, fine. Just—Felt like there was a…Tightening.”

He coughs softly a couple of times before he clears his throat, shaking his head.

“Do you need me to get your inhaler?”

“No. No, I’m okay,” He insists, settling down. He gives one more soft cough before it goes quiet. You slide down in bed again, watching him draw in a few deep breaths. His chest rises and falls more steadily, but you still worry that his chest is bothering him more than he’ll admit. You hesitate before you reach out, resting your hand on his chest. He doesn’t move for a moment; in fact, for that little stretch of time, he doesn’t take a breath. And then he rests a warm hand atop yours and draws in a deep breath, one that lifts both of your hands. You snuggle a little closer, your legs brushing his as you close your eyes.

“Night, Jonathan.”

His fingers twitch around yours before curling gently to grasp and hold your hand.

“Night.”

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @bb-skyrunner ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @aellynera ; @writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan ; @beepboopyoda

#Jonathan Levy x Reader #Jonathan Levy x You #Jonathan Levy/Reader #Jonathan Levy/You #Jonathan Levy fic #Jonathan Levy imagine #Breathe #Jonathan Scenes From a Marriage

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littlehippiewitch · 3 years ago

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Dandelion

When I was in elementary school we used to pick the dandelions and pop the flower heads off and sing the twisted song of “momma had a baby and it’s head popped off” now I have not been successful in finding the correlation of that or the origin for that matter. The most I could find was something to do with a guillotine? Either way I think it’s an interesting thing that kids have normalized all over the United States as well as some other parts of the world.

The dandelion’s bright yellow flowers are one of the first to bloom in spring.

However, the “flower” head is actually a composite of a bunch of tiny flowers clustered together, making it a great plant for pollinators.

The leaves form a base, and are full of “teeth”. Plants range from a few inches high to over a foot tall, depending on growing conditions. The stems are hollow and produce a milk-like, sticky sap.

Once matured, the flower heads turn to a white puff ball, and release seeds that resemble tiny parachutes to flow through the air until they ultimately land and a new dandelion grows. It’s a complete cycle of life.

Now to discuss the benefits and uses of dandelions, before I get started I would like to state the following:

Never collect plants for food or medicine from areas that have been sprayed with herbicides or other chemicals.

The leaves are loaded with vitamins and minerals, including the anti-oxidant beta carotene. (The body converts Beta Carotene into vitamin A (retinol)

Vitamin A, is a vital nutrient for vision, cell growth and in maintaining healthy organs like the heart, lungs, and kidneys.

Dandelion roots are high in inulin, a soluble fiber that acts as a probiotic, feeding good gut bacteria.

The bitterness of the dandelion increases stomach acid, which improves digestion.

(In case you didn’t know, acid reflux is often caused by not having enough stomach acid)

✨Tip: Try some dandelion tea before meals, or steeping some chopped greens in white wine to accompany your meal, or add the greens to your salad!

The inulin in the dandelion roots helps to bulk up stool, while the potassium and magnesium in the leaves may help relieve bloating and constipation.

The sap from the stalks or stems is antimicrobial.

✨Tip: Apply the sap from the flower stalk directly to warts, calluses, corns and rough skin. Rub in and repeat as needed.

You can use dandelion flowers to lighten age spots, relieve sunburn and tighten pores.

✨Tip: Cover freshly picked dandelion blossoms in boiling water. Cover your container and let steep for one hour. Strain and reserve liquid. Place warm flowers on your target skin areas, and relax for ten minutes. Remove flowers and rinse with the flower liquid. Treat before bedtime and leave the dandelion water residue on overnight for best results.

You can use dandelion flowers to help soothe sore muscles and joints.

✨Tip: Infuse dandelion flowers in oil to make an ointment for sore muscles, joints or dry skin. Gather enough blossoms to fill a jar, and cover with olive oil. Infuse for a week or two and then strain.

If you’d like me to make a detailed post about how to infuse herbs let me know!

DISCLAIMER: Although generally considered safe, like any food/herb it may cause allergic reactions or contact dermatitis in some individuals. Dandelion is not recommend for use while on diuretics or antibiotics!

Please consult with your doctor before taking herbal supplements if you are on medications, or nursing or pregnant.

Dandelions are edible from root to seed!

Many types of wildlife consume dandelion flowers, leaves and seeds. As an early nectar source in spring, the flowers are vital to bees and other pollinators. They are beneficial to humans too though!

✨Tip: Add the flower petals to salads, breads or desserts, or dip and fry the whole blossoms like mushrooms.

Dandelion leaves are one of the best natural sources of potassium. They are also high in vitamins, A, C and K, as well as calcium, iron and magnesium.

Dandelion leaves are rather bitter, especially as the season progresses.

✨Tip: Mix the greens with other spring greens in salads, or sauté with oil and seasonings. To reduce bitterness, boil for 10 minutes and pour off the water. (This will reduce some nutrients.) In recipes, you can use them like parsley or spinach.

To store the greens rinse and store fresh leaves in the refrigerator, as you would store other greens. You can keep them wrapped in a damp towel, or in a container.

Freeze for longer storage, or dehydrate or freeze dry.

✨Tip: Use whole leaves in cooking or to make tea.

Dandelion tea:

1/2 Cup Dandelion Petals, loosely packed

1 Cup Boiling Water

Put the dandelion petals in a cup

Pour boiling water over them

Allow to steep 5-10 min.

Strain.

Sweeten to your liking and enjoy.

Dandelion seeds are edible, too. They can be nibbled off the white puffy parachute tops.

Dandelion roots are edible and medicinal.

You can dig them any time of year, but they are best for medicine in the fall, when the plant stores its energy in the roots.

For eating, first year roots are best. As they become tough as they age and are not great for eating but can still be used for medicinal purposes.

✨Tip: Clean well and boil or roast like other root vegetables.

#magick #pagan #paganism #pagans of tumblr #witch community #witchblr #dandelion #plants and herbs #herb #dandelion uses #medicinal

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

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His Good Sweater: Chapter 16

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.3k

Recommended song: “The Thrill” by Wiz Khalifa & Empire of the Sun

Your Saturday gets off to a great start when you spot Sylvie lurking in the corner of the garage. The woman pointedly raises an eyebrow at you when she notices you, the simple action setting you on edge. You glare at her in return, having none of it while Pierre suits up.

"Take care of this for me, will you?" Pierre places his cap backwards on your head. You smile, adjusting it so it's out of your eyes.

"I will." You glance over his shoulder before chastely kissing his cheek. You'd deal with Sylvie later; Pierre didn't need any distractions when he was about to get out on track.

"Nope, not acceptable." Pierre kisses your lips, completely unaware of the shit you'd likely catch as soon as he was gone because of it.

You sigh and take half a step back. Having none of it, Pierre places a knuckle under your chin, tipping your face towards him.

"Sylvie making you nervous?" The pad of his thumb sweeping over your jaw gives you something solid to focus on. "I can ask her to leave if she is."

You shake your head. "Not nervous, no. But she's getting under my skin."

Pierre sets down his helmet and waves off Pyry who tries to shove it back in his hands, prepared to address the matter and hash out a solution immediately. "What's going on?"

"It's not a big deal," you try, "I can tell you after practice. You've only got a few minutes until lights out."

"I want to know now, mon amour."

Fighting was pointless. He would stand here until you spilled the beans so you might as well get it over with so he could get out on track. "Fine. Sylvie cornered me Thursday and asked me to lay low this weekend because of some interview you did. She gave me a copy of it but I didn't read it. She said it's bad for your image to be seen doting on me when you've got races to win."

Pierre blinks, head swiveling in slow motion. Sylvie watches your interaction like a hawk, waiting for either of you to slip up. "And you kept this to yourself?"

"I didn't want to distract you. You've got a job to do." A blush creeps up your neck and settles on the apples of your cheeks. "Sylvie was mad enough at me, I didn't want her in your face too."

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "That's bullshit. I stood up for you. That's why she's pissed. I told them you were just as important to me as racing."

Your heart somersaults in your chest. "You said that in an interview? Pierre, that's-"

Pierre drops Sylvie's stare and meets yours. "I love you and I won't apologize for it. I don't have time to talk to her now though- are you okay being here with her until after practice?"

"I'll be okay as long as you top the time charts," you tell him, a smile playing on your lips. When you'd gotten back together you had told yourself nothing would come between the two of you again, up to and including nosy PR agents who couldn't keep their hands out of your business.

"I will, just for you." Helmet in hand, he pecks your cheek before heading to the car. Pierre shoots Sylvie a glare and says something to Pyry before clambering into the car.

Pyry doesn't leave your side for the entirety of practice, chasing off Sylvie each time she tries to approach you. Pierre nearly tops the charts, sitting second fastest on the famed street circuit. Only Max clocked a faster time, which didn't surprise anyone. Pierre's side of the garage erupts when he is wheeled inside and is met with claps on the back and wide smiles from his team.

Confidence radiates from him as he peels off his helmet and thanks his team. A grin from ear to ear splits his face as he makes his way to you before he even bothers to unzip his suit. Before you know it he's swept you in his arms and planted a kiss on your lips.

"It's not first, but I'll take second if you're waiting here when I get back."

"It's only practice," you remind him, swiping away a bead of sweat from his neck with the pad of your thumb. "But you drive like that for quali in a few hours and you might get your first pole."

"What did I tell you?" Sylvie hisses, ruining the moment and sending you crashing back to earth.

Instead of falling into line, Pierre's grip on your waist tightens. "Leave her alone, Sylvie."

"This isn't good for you," the woman insists. "People are saying you've gone soft-"

"I don't care what they say. My results speak for themselves." And they did. Second fastest today in practice, despite Monaco being a track that Pierre generally had a poor record at. "When I start slipping to the back of the pack you can talk to me about it. But even then it's out of your wheelhouse. I don't care what the gossip columns have to say about me-"

Pierre breaks off and you can see the pieces clicking in his head. "You've never cared either, not even when I got demoted. Horner put you up to this, didn't he?"

Sylvie straightens under the weight of Pierre's question, good enough as giving him an answer. "I have a job to do."

"And so do I." His words freeze over, his attitude icy. "How about you back off and let me do it? I don't need another person breathing down my neck. And she certainly doesn't either. And you know what? I'll make you a deal. If I win tomorrow, you leave us alone and keep your nose out of my personal life."

"You'll thank me when your name is out of the tabloids." Bewildered, you stare after her until Pierre's lips meet your temple, the simple gesture sending a tingle down your spine.

"I wish it was easier for us," you murmur, placing a hand on his broad chest as if you were the only two in the garage. "But as long as I have you, it's worth the fight."

"Don't let it get to you. You make me a better racer, no matter what anyone says. You taught me that I have something to fight for. You're the one that picks me up when I don't think I can make it. Without you, I probably would've blown my chance at taking seventh in the championship."

"And I'm the one that tells you when it's time to get your ass back in the car and race your heart out." You grin up at him, not caring for a second who was watching this time when you kiss him. "I expect you to be a pole sitter next time you're back in this garage. I might have already told my mom it was happening, so don't make me a liar."

"If I take pole, will you wear my cap again tonight? Just my cap?"

"That could be arranged."

**********

Pierre may not have taken pole, but qualifying fifth was more than enough reason to treat him to fulfilling his request. With only the Red Bulls, Charles and Hamilton ahead of him, you were confident he could at minimum hold his position, and at best his team would come up with a strategy that saw him undercut one or two of the guys ahead and put him on the podium.

As usual, Pierre gets to the circuit a few hours early to clear his head and walk the track one last time. Since it’s not a mandatory part of his race preparation, you take the opportunity to walk with him. The clouds part just enough for the sun to shine down on him, practically glowing in the light. Apparently not even the celestial bodies were immune to his beauty, coming out solely to appease him. Your gaze eats up the curve of his throat as he tips his head back to enjoy the golden rays warming his skin.

“Beau Rivage,” he murmurs as you come up to the right hand bend. “One of the few spots for overtaking, if you’re lucky.” Pierre studies the pavement, noting where patches of gravel had built up and toeing them with his shoe. His commitment was something to behold; not even Max could be bothered with a track walk on Wednesday, and forget about waking up with the dawn to participate in an optional one on race day.

Pierre was different though, throwing himself into the sport and refusing to commit anything less than a hundred percent. That commitment was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place and continued to be something you admired. You missed him when you were apart, but hearing the thrill in his voice when he spoke about racing lines or braking points never failed to remind you that he was living his dream and you would never stand in his way.

You thread your fingers through his, soaking it in as he walks you through the track. This wasn’t an opportunity you had often and you were determined to embrace and enjoy it.

“Massenette and Casino Square. This braking zone is tricky, if you go too wide you’ll lose seconds of time and probably a good chunk of your front wing, unless by some miracle you miss the barrier.”

Having little to offer to his assessment, you rest your head on his shoulder as you walk. You try to see the track through his eyes, picturing the cockpit around you as you attempt to pick out an adequate braking point.

You continue on in amiable silence, stopping once or twice so Pierre can take pictures with fans and chat with them. Eventually you come to a corner you recognize, one of the most infamous.

“I know this one.” You puff out your chest, holding an imaginary microphone to your lips. “The Lowes hairpin. Slowest corner on the calendar. The cars decelerate to 65 kph, a feat achieved nowhere else.”

Pierre throws his head back and laughs, making your heart stutter. You never wanted to go another day without hearing the full-bellied sound, rich and rife with more happiness than should be humanly possible. “You only know that because Crofty and Brundle bring that up every race, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” You beam back at him when he shakes his head, the action more to say I knew it than to express disappointment. Because he could never be disappointed in you, especially not for taking an interest in what he loved. You tended to queue up archived races to listen to in the background as you studied, meaning it was inevitable that some of the quips from the commentators rubbed off on you sooner or later.

“Now this is my favorite,” Pierre says, adjusting his cap to keep the sun out of his eyes.

“The swimming pool chicaines? Why?” They were considered boring by most racers, flat out but navigable by muscle memory if you’d had enough practice.

Pierre’s self assured grin leaves you in a puddle on the pavement. “Cause I’ll be jumping in that pool today, and I’m taking you with me.”

"I don't think so." You point to the hoodie you wore, one that you had stolen from his closet ages ago and since refused to give back under any circumstances. "I'm in irreplaceable gear. I don't want to ruin it."

Pierre rolls his eyes, dropping your hand in favor of slinging an arm around your shoulders. "I love it when you wear my clothes. My hat yesterday, my hoodie today, anything really. I love having that claim on you."

"If only I could get you to wear some of mine," you muse as the pit boxes come into view.

"If you ask nicely, I'd consider it."

The garage is thrumming with anticipation before Pierre even enters. Checo’s engine penalty is all anyone can talk about, his subsequent start from the pit lane meant Pierre would effectively move up a place and start fourth.

Pierre is whisked away as soon as Tost spots him, the warm old man greeting you before stealing your boyfriend away. You know your way around well enough to be comfortable, staking out your spot along the back wall to observe the team's preparations. The early wake up call was quickly catching up with you however, your lack of movement causing you to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand.

"You look like you could use a coffee."

A young woman about your age steps into your line of sight and holds out a steaming foam cup. "Er, sure, thanks."

"Alana," she says, sticking her hand out for you to shake. "I'm one of the junior engineers for the team. I've seen you around once or twice, I figured it was about time I introduced myself."

"Thank you for the coffee, Alana." You lift the cup in mock salute and take a sip, the contents rich and flavorful. "I swear, I don't know what you guys lace this with, but it's addictive as hell."

The two of you share a laugh that earns you a few confused glances. "I think we're gonna be great friends," she says, tapping her own cup against yours. "It's nice to see another woman around the paddock. Sometimes it gets a little testosterone heavy."

You nod, taking another swig. You can practically feel the caffeine working, already a little more alert than you were minutes ago.

"It's great luck."

"Pierre moving up a place?"

Alana laughs, her ponytail swaying as she shakes her head. "No, I meant you being able to attend the race. You picked the best weekend to be trackside, the podium celebrations are the best."

Pierre startles you by snaking an arm around your waist and planting a kiss on your cheek.

"There's our star," Alana says, her smile bright and optimistic. "Better bring your team another trophy! The next one is going in the engineering department, they already have a little plaque made up and everything. I can see it right from my desk."

"Oh I'll bring one home," he replies, his hand casually grazing your ass as he moves to stand beside you. "I already promised her I would and I'm a man of my word."

"I know you will."

"You have those time tables I asked about?"

"They're in the engineering suite." Alana hooks a thumb over her shoulder and smiles at you. "You're welcome to come back with us. He concentrates better when you're around anyway."

"Are you sure?" Red Bull never let you anywhere near proprietary data. You and any of Max's guests had always been corralled into the vip suite with the occasional venture down into the garage when they were wrapping up.

"You're part of the family," Alana explains as if it was obvious. "Of course I'm sure."

Pierre grins and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze. His team knew he wanted you near and they were willing to bend the rules to make it happen. "We'll try not to bore you to death."

You sit through a half hour worth of numbers and codes you didn't understand, your arm slung around the back of Pierre's chair. He offers tidbits and asks questions while Alana and the other engineers walk him through scenarios, ensuring he has everything down. The way he spoke was quite possibly the hottest thing you've ever had the pleasure of witnessing, aside from post race Pierre with his sweaty hair sticking up in every direction and an adrenaline infused smile on his red cheeks.

Before you know it the two of you are ushered off to his driver's room, Pierre changing into his fireproofs and suit while you treat yourself to some of the snacks lying about. Pyry knocks just as Pierre zips his suit up to his chin.

"Hunt 'em down," you say, resting your forehead to his and stealing a moment for the two of you.

"Always do."

And god, does he ever.

Ten laps in, Hamilton is complaining about the balance of his Mercedes, the gap between himself and Max is only a few seconds and rapidly decreasing. The headphones you wear allow you to catch snips of driver radio and team communications, and you gather that Hamilton is slowly losing power. No one is sure if it's an electronics issue or an engine issue but they aren't complaining either.

Flawless pit stops from most teams see little shift in track positions, Pierre still holding fast to P4 a little over halfway through the seventy eight laps. Alpha's stellar strategy sees him rejoin fifth after sliding into the pits for a set of mediums to take him to the end of the race.

"Gap to Norris three seconds ahead," comes the voice in your ear.

Pierre clings tight to the rear of Lando's papaya McLaren ahead, using DRS to his advantage and practically toying with the younger racer, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Three short laps later, Pierre skirts around the McLaren at Beau Rivage and reclaims fourth.

Hamilton's ability to stretch tire performance to the maximum means he gets ten more laps before he's in the pits, Max closing in on his track position. The Mercedes crew stumbles, the pit stop more than twice as long as it should be, and Hamilton rejoins fourth.

"In the podium places," Pierre's engineer states.

Seconds later, white smoke pours from Max's Red Bull and he pulls off, causing a yellow flag and bunching up the pack.

P2, with only the Ferrari standing between Pierre and a win.

"Easy pickings Pierre, choose your moment."

Your heart pounds and your nails bite into your palms as Pierre goes around the outside at the hairpin, the entire garage shouting when he somehow gets away clean and the Monegasque backs off enough for Pierre to take the lead.

"P1 mate, two laps to go, two laps."

Pierre's brisk copy tells you all you need to know. He wasn't about to let this win slip through his fingers. Neck craned up at the screen, you watch as Pierre fights tooth and nail to fend off his friend, gasping audibly when a slight lockup nearly causes the two to collide around a chicane.

When he crosses the line, all you hear is a staticy scream.

Pierre Gasly, you are a Monaco Grand Prix winner!

It almost doesn't feel real how everyone around you begins jostling for the podium, their momentum carrying you along. A combination of luck and skill had seen him skyrocket to the top.

When you finally catch a glimpse of him in parc ferme, he stands atop the halo, arms spread wide amongst the deafening cheers of both Red Bull sister teams. Pressed between sweaty bodies, his team all push to the front to be the ones to congratulate him.

You blink back hot tears. Pierre had fought incredibly hard to be on that top step, not just today but the entire season. Being demoted from Red Bull last year had been a backhanded blow, one that when coupled with his insistence on going back to the team in the future had warranted a feeding frenzy of media that ebbed and flowed as rumors surfaced. He'd been under the microscope ever since, struggling to keep his head above water but managing to come out on top.

Someone pushes you forward just as he takes off his helmet, his grin wild and unrestrained. Your mouth is open, his name on the tip of your tongue when a hand closes around your arm.

"This isn't your moment," Sylive says, near shouting to be heard over the roar. "No one wants to see you up there in the frame. This is his podium, let the media see that."

This woman really wanted to be knocked out, didn't she?

"He just won the prix." Dumbfounded at her audacity, you shake your head. "Leave us alone, he won."

"He could win the championship and I would still tell you to back off. There's hundreds of cameras out there, do you even have it in you to hold yourself together when they're all flashing at you?"

If she had asked you that question a few months ago, the answer would have been no, absolutely not. Now that you'd been to hell and back it was an entirely different story. You could walk through the throng and come out the other side unscathed if you had your best friend and partner at your side. He would shield you for the worst of it, be their punching back in order to make the burden bearable.

"Sylvie, if you don't get your hands off me-"

"Oh, sure," she says, releasing you with a smile. "He's already gone anyway. I only needed a minute."

Brow furrowed, you investigate her claim to find the truth of it. Pierre was already being herded away towards the podium, toweling off the residual sweat and setting his helmet on the provided stand. He throws one last glance over his shoulder before climbing the steps to the podium, his baby blue eyes cloudy when they should have been sunny.

Pierre's team principal calls your name as the boys take their places on the steps, gesturing for you to join him at the barriers. "Where were you? He was looking for you."

"No, I know," you start, shaking your head and gazing up at your racer. "Sylvie has it in her head that I shouldn't be photographed with him-"

"Say no more," Tost says, then pauses as the crowd claps. "I've never liked her."

"You and me both," you say under your breath as the anthems play.

Pierre's hungry gaze scours the crowd for you, hands folded neatly behind his back while he bounces on his feet. When he finally spots you in Tost's shadow his shoulders straighten the tiniest bit, like he had been half expecting you to be absent. The pride in his posture is reflected in your smile, a fact that he picks up on and leverages to shine even brighter.

Absently, you register the shutter of a camera going off as you beam up at Pierre. Your winner locks eyes with you before popping the cork of his champagne and spraying his fellow podium sitters, Daniel and Charles, before taking a long swig. Daniel blows a kiss to his girlfriend who mimes catching it and tucking it away while Pierre simply wraps Charles in an embrace, marveling in their first shared Formula 1 podium.

Pierre is surprisingly the first to leave, stalking off with his trophy and bottle in hand before the cameras have even stopped rolling. You track his progress, the crowd slowing him like he was a marble trying to sink through molasses. His thanks are short, his smile tight as he makes his way to you, eyes locked on his target and utterly unwilling to yield.

You meet him at the barrier which you still haven't been allowed to cross thanks to security taking their job far too seriously. Pierre doesn't care, tucking his trophy under his arm and unhooking a section so that you can slip through.

A laugh bubbles out of you when he wraps you in a bone crushing hug, lifting you off your feet and spinning in circles. Taking his face in your hands you kiss him passionately, wholly aware of the cameras on you. This was your moment to share with him; your universe had narrowed to his arms around you and the sweat-slick skin beneath your fingers.

"Congratulations," you murmur against his lips. "How's it feel to be a Monaco grand prix winner?"

"Better now that I've gotten to hear you say it." The brim of his Pirelli cap gets in the way when he tries to kiss you again and he turns it around.

"You gonna celebrate tonight, race winner?" The endearment works just as you had wanted it to, pride and something more primal flashing in his eyes.

His voice drops, his wicked grin already causing heat to pool in your core. "I have a few ideas."

"Me too." Now that the crowd has disappeared somewhat, you grow bold and nip at his lower lip. It sends a thrill through you to rile him up so publicly, his fingers tightening on your hips in surprise.

"Mon amour, you stop that right now." The slight shake in his voice betrays his true feelings. "I still have to weigh in and debrief."

"Maybe I want you thinking of me while you're there." You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning when he gulps. "Thinking of all the things I'll let you do when you get back to the apartment. Charles will be gone all night partying with Ferrari, I'm sure. We'll have the place to ourselves."

"We've got a full night ahead of us." He grins, tongue darting out over his lips. "We've got the winners dinner too."

You tip your head to the side. "Winners dinner? I don't-"

Someone calls his name and you both look in their direction. A race official, clearly fed up with your little display of love, waves Pierre over.

"Duty calls." Reluctantly, Pierre sets you back on your feet and passes off the champagne before he retreats to answer questions or whatever it was the official needed from him.

Watching him walk away, all you can think about is getting him back to the apartment. But first, you'd drag it out as much as he'd let you.

*********

Pierre spends the entirety of the debrief locked in an unending battle between thinking of you in compromising positions and actually giving feedback to his team. It wasn't his fault that you planted the seed in his mind; he couldn't help but expand on what your dirty little lips had whispered in his ear once he finally found you after the podium.

"Okay, I think that's all we have. See you all at the pool in an hour," Alina says, and Pierre practically rips off his headset and sprints back to his driver's room. He bursts in without stopping to knock, earning him a yelp as you drop your phone on your face.

"Ow. A warning would be nice."

"I don't care," Pierre breathes, locking the door behind him and crossing to where you lay on the couch in a few long strides. "I've got an hour till I'm due to make an appearance for the cameras at the pool, care to make it memorable?"

"Oh, I don't know." You pick your phone back up and continue scrolling through it after giving him a once over. Leaving his race suit on and half undone served dual purposes: he didn't have to change again before the photo op at the pool and it drove you crazy. Apparently, his plan hadn't worked as well as he had hoped. "I kinda like seeing you all worked up."

"Come on," he practically whines, dropping to his knees to meet your glinting eyes. "Please?"

"I think you can wait." The corners of your mouth tug up and it's all he can do to resist leaning forward dragging your full bottom lip between his teeth. Energy still thrums through him, the adrenaline not yet faded.

Noting his stare, you roll your eyes. "Okay, one kiss-"

He doesn't let you finish, leaping on the opportunity to get a tiny sliver of what he wants. His tongue prods your lip and he groans when you open and allow him to explore. Hands glide over your hips while yours find his shoulders, nails digging in through the thin material of his fireproofs. Without breaking the kiss Pierre slots himself above you, a leg on either side of yours and caging your head between his forearms where they rest on the arm of the couch.

When he grinds his hips against yours in search of any sort of relief, you turn your head to the side. Pierre doesn't care, simply trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck. The building could be burning to the ground around him and he wouldn't move, too enraptured by you to be bothered.

"Pierre, my love, be patient." You push lightly at his chest and he finally breaks away, chest heaving. God, he needed you. Hadn’t stopped thinking about you once since he crossed that finish line in first. "Where's that unwavering self restraint you show on the track?"

"I'm not racing." He possessed no self restraint when it came to you. In your presence every sane thought flew out the window, replaced by the sound of your laugh and the shape your mouth made when you said his name.

"Waiting makes it sweeter," you tease, the phrase jangling something loose in his brain. He had said the same thing months ago when your roles had been reversed. If he could go back in time and slap himself upside the head for uttering those words, he would.

Pierre sits up with a huff and pulls you into his lap. "No fair. I just won a race, at Monaco no less, and you're gonna tell me I have to wait when you're sitting here looking perfectly edible?"

You tip your head back and laugh. "I am, because I know you'll enjoy it more tonight."

"But we have the drivers dinner too-"

You put a finger to his lips, which he immediately bites softly. "Be patient. I know you can do it, big boy."

Pierre groans, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall forward to rest on your sternum. "I'm going to remember this."

Your traitorous fingers wind in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "How about a massage while you wait, hmm? Would that calm some of this energy you've got built up?"

"No," he grumbles, pressing a kiss to your chest. "That'll make it worse."

"Well then I think it's a perfect idea." Pierre makes you work for it, forcing you to peel his hands off your hips one at a time before you can stand. "Fireproofs off and on your tummy, come on then."

Pierre obeys, eagerly tossing his shirt across the room. He knew he'd regret it and your teasing would leave his head spinning, but anything that got him closer to you was acceptable.

"Lay down."

The command stirs something in his chest. He kisses you once before pillowing his arms under his head and allowing you to straddle his thighs. Your knuckles work at the stiff cords of muscle along his spine and he doesn't tamp down on the small noises of pleasure that start in the back of his throat. Once in a while you lean forward to press a kiss to his bare back, each one setting off a chain reaction in him that goes straight to his cock.

When you reach the base of his spine, he goes completely limp under your fingers. "Merde," he whispers, both a plea and a praise. "Right there, baby."

Something had been digging into his back during the race and it caused a knot to form by his left hip. A low moan escapes him before he can stop it and you hum in approval.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"So good," is all he manages to get out around the noise in his brain. His head is filled with your touch, reducing him to ash beneath you. You work at the spot until it's pliable, sweeping your thumb over it once more for good measure. You finish up with his back and move to his arms, dancing over the swells of muscle like you'd been a masseuse your entire life.

"God, where did you even learn this? You're better than Pyry."

"YouTube. And that's because it's different when it's someone you love versus your trainer. I can drag it out and let you enjoy it more."

He's completely lost track of time when the alarm on his phone goes off, signaling the end of this current round of torture.

"You know you're coming with me to the pool," Pierre says matter of factly as you climb off him. He stands and rolls his shoulders, bouncing on his toes. "I feel like a brand new man."

You guide his fireproof shirt back over his head after retrieving it from wherever you'd tossed it earlier. You zip his race suit up with a wink that almost makes hims say fuck it and miss the event entirely. "Glad I could be of assistance."

Hand in hand, Pierre leads you through the paddock and falls in with the Alpha team as they head for the swimming pool. Being around his crew again brings the excitement of his win back to the surface and he's practically buzzing with it by the time they arrive at the gate. Journalists, photographers and a few of his fellow drivers mingle about the packed space, some of them clapping him on the back and offering praise. None of it truly registers until Max, usually hot-headed after a DNF like he had suffered today, pulls him in for a hug.

"Great racing, mate. You deserved that one, that's for sure."

"You better play nice with him next year Max." You wag your finger at the Dutchman, earning you a chuckle. "Or I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"Now that's something I'd pay to see: you versus Christian Horner. A mighty fight."

Not wanting to jinx it, Pierre doesn’t comment on your confidence that he’ll be on Max’s team next year. His win today had seen him move up comfortably into eighth, and he was closing in on Lando quickly. As long as he played his cards right and finished higher up in the points, he was starting to think he could pull it off.

Pierre doesn't note Sylvie's approach until she clears her throat and all three of you turn in tandem. Pierre picks up on the way your demeanor instantly shifts from light and playful to defensive and he puts himself between the two of you.

"Photo op time."

"Right yeah." Pierre squeezes your hand in farewell and follows Sylvie to where a spot has been cleared at the head end. Standing there before the water, Daniel's dramatic belly flop comes to mind and Pierre knows he has to top that celebration or he'll never hear the end of it.

Someone- maybe you, he couldn't quite tell- starts a chant of his name, growing louder and louder until it reaches a fever pitch. His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide and he spreads his arms, his head falling back and eyes sliding shut as he lets the chant wash over him. Letting it sink in that he stood on the top step of the podium at the most legendary track in Formula 1, his name now joining the likes of Senna and Schumacher as Monaco grand prix winners.

He's drunk on it, on the screams and the shouts and the general feeling of being on top of the world and being untouchable.

Head dizzy, he searches for you, shooting you a wink when he spots you crouched right on the edge of the pool. God, you were gorgeous, wearing his hoodie with his logo splashed across the front and your cheeks flushed from the height of the moment.

Pierre takes a few steps back and gets a running start to leap into the pool, tucking his knees to his chest and cannonballing in. The water closes over his head and everything is dull for a split second before he pushes off the bottom and surfaces, cheers assaulting his senses in the best way.

Laughing, he shakes out his hair and poses for a few of the cameras pointed at him. In that moment he doesn't care what Sylvie or Christian or anyone for that matter thinks, all he wants is to share this euphoria with you, for you to be enthralled by it as he is.

The waterlogged suit makes it hard to swim but he manages, crossing to you and pushing off the concrete lip of the pool to capture your lips. Your hands immediately fly to cup his jaw as hoots and hollers surround the two of you as he irrevocably tells the world that you're his.

Alpha crew members take the kiss as their cue to jump in, splashing you with water as you laugh. Pierre doesn't give you a chance to protest, rising up and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in with him.

You squeal in his arms, shoving against his chest as you both laugh. "Pierre!" His name on your tongue does nothing to dampen the feel of your waterlogged body against his, nowhere near as chastising as he knew you'd tried to sound. He loves you more than ever at that moment, wants to live here on this Sunday forever, replaying the past twelve hours for the rest of his life.

Celebrations continue around him, but he has eyes only for you. He studies the way your nose scrunches up when Alana splashes you and how droplets of water catch on your eyelashes.

Reaching out, he tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, garnering your attention. You ruffle Pierre's hair and he knows that you're just as caught up as he is.

Placing a hand on the back of your neck, he draws you in for another long, drawn out kiss. “You’re my trophy.”

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wordsnwhiskey · 4 years ago

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 6: Negotiations in Pain & Pleasure

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: The summary is smut, good, fun, BDSM smut, and aftercare. OR, Frankie needs to let go and hasn’t been able to for months. Jack promised to help and show him the aftercare that his old partners had been neglecting him. He’s making good on that promise.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: M/M, BDSM, Dom!Jack, sub!Frankie, impact play (with a flogger), oral (M receiving), praise kink, dirty talk (it’s Whiskey here), anal, unprotected sex, alcohol, food mention. (I think that’s it but let me know if it isn’t!)

A/N: Y’all, it’s finally here! I have been waiting for this chapter for a while and I am so glad it’s here. These men both need this, especially Frankie and I really wanted Jack to be the person to provide it for him. If M/M isn’t your thing, I’m not sure how you got here, but this probably isn’t the fic for you, and this chapter is definitely not your thing because that is literally all there is. Huge shoutout to my friend Agent Capri Sun and mi esposa @danniburgh for feeding my thots and beta-ing!

For those of you who don’t know, PrEP is a medication that can be prescribed to those who do not have HIV and are looking to further protect themselves against it. Why did I include this? Because on the whole, it’s recommended as a safe practice and it’s rarely mentioned in media/writing. Also, please remember BDSM revolves around SSC and/or RACK. Go learn about these things. So there’s my soapbox moment. Enjoy!

“C’mon, Flyboy, we’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

Without hesitation, Frankie stood up fluidly and grabbed his go bag from the corner of the room while Jack shut his computer down for the night and collected his keys from his desk. The energy around them was buzzing with anticipation. Jack’s outward demeanor seemed casual, but the way his whitened knuckles gripped the steering wheel as his other hand alternated between tenderly playing with the hair at Frankie’s nape and searing Frankie’s thigh, showed Jack was anything but cool, calm and collected.

Frankie’s breath was coming in shallow, shaky puffs. Funny how he could maintain his breathing while being shot at, while going through combat exercises, and even when he had to crash land their helicopter in Colombia, but feeling Jack’s hand on him as they drove back to the condo broke his composure. That large, warm hand had found its way to his thigh again, fingers pressing, squeezing gently at his inner thigh, and Frankie could hear his blood roaring in his ears.

Mercifully, the drive was short. Frankie grabbed his bag with a shaky hand and quietly followed Jack to the elevator, just a short ride to the fulfillment of a promise Frankie was aching for. The elevator doors shut, and Frankie tried to take a steadying breath. The anticipation was heavy on him, and he wanted nothing more than to lean into Jack, but didn’t want to seem clingy. That had been something that his old partners, Sam and her husband, had discouraged.

Jack could see Frankie struggling, his wants warring with his nerves. With a soft smile, Jack pulled Frankie so his back was flush against his chest, loosely wrapping his arms around Frankie’s waist so he didn’t feel trapped, and pressed soft, teasing kisses along his neck. Frankie was dizzy from the feeling of Jack’s lips, his mustache tickling at his skin, the intimacy of the action, and his embrace. He was so lost in the feeling that Jack had to clear his throat to alert him that the elevator had in fact stopped and the doors were open. Frankie blushed, quickly disentangling himself from Jack, clearing his throat while he stepped out of the elevator.

Jack’s hand appeared, warm and steadying at the small of his back as he guided Frankie to the door. Jack unlocked the door, and Frankie stepped over the threshold. He didn’t even have time to drop his bag to the floor. Jack was on him, pushing him against the door, Jack’s Stetson collided with Frankie’s cap as Jack’s mouth claimed Frankie’s. There was no care for either the Stetson or Frankie’s cap as Jack’s tender kisses from the elevator turned hungry, his tongue swiping at Frankie’s lower lip. Frankie dropped his bag, his now free hand clutching at Jack’s shirt. Jack’s fingers gripped Frankie’s hair tightly, pulling a whimper and a moan from Frankie that was muffled against Jack’s own growl of approval. His knee pressed between Frankie’s thighs, and Jack could feel the other man’s erection, hard and needy against his hip.

“Damn, Flyboy, eager aren’t ya?”

Frankie could only nod as he tried to catch his breath, Jack’s drawl making his cock twitch and his eyes blown with lust.

“Go to my room, strip, then kneel at the foot of the bed. Put a pillow down for your knees.”

Jack’s voice dropped in register and took on a delicious edge that sent a shudder down Frankie’s spine. Any reservations Frankie had about being clingy or too needy were obliterated by the desire in Jack’s commanding presence.

While Frankie did as he was told, Jack shrugged off his blazer, tossing it over the back of the sofa, then rolled up his sleeves and poured himself a drink. He savored the smooth heat in his mouth, rolled his shoulders, then made for his room. His cock hardened at the sight that waited for him.

“Hands on the bed, Flyboy.”

Frankie was quick to obey, glancing over at Jack briefly to admire him. He quickly turned his gaze back to the empty space on the bed in front of him, instinct telling him that Jack would want him to face forward. Jack strode over to one of his wardrobes, opening the doors to reveal an assortment of hanging implements. After a moment’s consideration, he pulled a flogger from its hook along with a pair of leather cuffs.

“Normally, I prefer to use rope, but we did such a number on you in our haste the other night, I’m gonna have to settle for the leather cuffs for now.”

Frankie shuddered as the distantly familiar sensation of smooth leather strips teased his back and ghosted over his shoulders.

“Color?” Jack asked. Despite it being on Frankie’s list of interests, he wanted to confirm Frankie was still ok with the implement being used in this session.

“Green.”

Frankie responded quickly and took a deep breath. Jack hummed his approval, a smile tugging at his lips when Frankie’s body moved of its own accord at the sound, leaning back to seek Jack’s touch. The flogger appeared in Frankie’s line of sight as Jack teasingly ran the leather lightly down then up Frankie’s left arm before giving the other the same treatment. Frankie fought to sit still, goosebumps left in the flogger's wake, and another shudder raced down his spine. Jack switched the flogger to his right hand, and his fingers traced the path of the flogger down from Frankie’s shoulder, over his bicep and to the tips of Frankie’s fingers. He covered Frankie’s hand with his own while he kissed his shoulder and the fading bite mark from two nights prior. Jack’s teeth grazed over the sensitive skin at the nape of Frankie’s neck and hummed at the moan that caught in Frankie’s throat.

“Are you ready, Flyboy?”

Frankie’s breath hitched, and he nodded. Jack tutted and grabbed Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Use your words, Flyboy.”

“I’m ready, sir.”

Jack’s eyes flashed at the honorific, his smile broadening as his grip tightened on the handle of the flogger.

“Good boy.”

Jack hummed his approval, brushing Frankie’s jaw with his thumb before pulling away. The whisper of leather on skin was a teasing promise of what was to come, making Frankie tense. There was a painful absence of sensation for the briefest of moments before the crack of leather filled the air, followed by another; sensation lighting up his back. Both weren’t particularly hard, intended only to warm him up, but Christ, did Frankie want more.

Jack marveled at the way Frankie’s back muscles twitched, aching to see them spasm at his hand, to make him squirm. Another two light flicks of Jack’s wrist before a resounding crack echoed with Frankie’s moan. Then again, two light cracks followed by two slightly harder ones. Frankie clenched his hands, bunching the sheets in his fists and crying out.

“Color, Flyboy?”

“Green!” Frankie keened, his back feeling delightfully warm.

“Good boy,” Jack praised again, smiling at the way Frankie whimpered in response. “Can you do more? Do you want to go harder?”

Frankie nodded, then remembered the rules.

“Yes!”

“Yes what, Flyboy?”

“Yes, sir!”

“That’s my good boy.”

Frankie gave an obscene moan at the praise, breaking off into a whimper as Jack gave him another stroke of the flogger, making Jack smile. The next one was harder, the painful whisper of leather across his back left a stinging ache. At the eighth total stroke of the flogger, warmth enveloped Frankie, a knot caught in his throat at the feeling. By the ninth stroke, Frankie was almost floating, tethered to the moment by the wave of overwhelming emotion threatening to crest in his chest.

He wanted this so badly, he needed it. He needed to let go and not think about all of the shit in his life that had converged on him the last few days. Frankie choked out a sob at the last stroke, the cresting wave of emotion breaking free and crashing over him.

Everything he had buried, his mixed emotions, the drugs, and losing his job, bubbled to the surface all at once. The tears were just as cathartic as sinking into the pain had been.

He let out a shuddering exhale, and before Jack could ask, Frankie called out “Green!”

Jack sighed, the kneeling man’s back was an angry red, stripes forming from the flogger. He adjusted himself in his jeans to get some relief, then set the flogger back on its hook and returned to the bed. Jack sat down and maneuvered them so that Frankie’s head was cradled in his lap. He understood that Frankie needed this, now more than ever probably. It was one of the reasons he had offered to do this for Frankie, to give him an outlet to just feel and let go.

“Shh, you did so well, Flyboy. You were such a good boy for me.”

Jack cooed as he stroked Frankie’s damp, curly locks. Frankie hummed in response, and Jack lifted Frankie’s chin to see his flushed face.

“Can you do more, or do you want to stop for now, Flyboy?”

Frankie blinked, his eyes hazy then he buried his face in Jack’s lap, finding it hard to think and trying to ground himself.

“I-I can do more. I want to do more.”

Jack’s breath hitched as Frankie’s cheek brushed against the cock straining in his jeans.

“Alright, Flyboy. Lean back then, hands behind your back.”

Frankie did as he was told, his back burning slightly from the flogging. Jack stood up, a steadying hand on the sweet, willing man kneeling before him. He took a moment to let his gaze find Frankie’s cock, his eyebrows raising in surprise at just how hard and leaky he was.

“Shit, boy, I’ve never seen someone get as hard or leak as much as you from just the flogger.”

He carefully secured the leather cuffs, making sure they were fixed a bit above his wrists so as to not chafe the already irritated skin, then sat back down on the bed and tugged Frankie forward. Without his hands to stop himself, Frankie’s head landed unceremoniously back in Jack’s lap with a grunt. A low groan fell from Jack’s lips as Frankie nuzzled the large bulge in Jack’s jeans. Frankie mumbled something into Jack’s lap that he couldn’t quite make out.

“What was that?”

“Said ‘s not just the flogger.”

“Oh? What is it then, Flyboy?”

Frankie squirmed, and Jack did nothing to stop him.

“S’you, never was like this before.”

Jack’s heart melted at the trust, vulnerability and adoration that was tinged with sadness in Frankie’s words. This was about more than just the clear arousal Frankie had. The look in his eyes earlier, and the way he was nuzzling him now, told Jack that Frankie had been missing the safety and ability to truly let go for a long time now. Jack was honored that Frankie was able to find that solace in him.

“Hey,” Jack’s hands cupped Frankie’s face as he bent down and kissed him tenderly, making sure to place a kiss on each of Frankie’s tear-stained cheeks. After allowing them a moment, Jack pulled back, his thumb swiping over Frankie’s lower lip, nudging insistently until Frankie took it in his mouth and sucked on it eagerly.

“D’you want to put this mouth to some good use, Flyboy?”

Frankie watched hungrily as Jack made to unbuckle his belt until he realized that Jack was waiting until Frankie had consented to go any further .

“Fuck… I mean yes, sir.”

Jack chuckled, then finished unbuckling his belt, adjusting so that he could get his jeans and boxers down to his mid-thigh. He smirked at the way Frankie stared hungrily at his cock. It was nice to know that the hunger he’d seen the night at the safehouse hadn’t been entirely drug induced.

The smirk promptly disappeared when Frankie widened his knees to balance better then leaned in and his lips enveloped the head of his cock.

“Fuck…”

The curse fell softly from Jack’s lips, a moan catching at the back of his throat. It took all of Jack’s strength not to buck up into Frankie’s mouth from the searing pleasure of Frankie bobbing up and down on his cock, moaning as he took more of Jack’s length.

Frankie smirked as best as he could, feeling proud he was able to elicit such a reaction from Jack. Strong fingers gripping tightly and twisting in his hair pulled a whine from deep in Frankie’s chest, and his eyes rolled back a bit as he felt Jack’s hand push him further down his cock until Frankie’s nose brushed Jack’s dark curls. Jack held him there for a minute, getting used to the hot warmth that surrounded his cock. He let out a breathy chuckle when Frankie’s hips jolted forward involuntarily, the feeling of being held down making him seek the sweet tantalizing friction of the bed.

“F-Fuck, Flyboy… S-shit, y’got a hot fuckin’ mouth.”

Jack started to pump into Frankie’s mouth, his other hand on Frankie’s throat to feel his cock move. He could feel the small whimpers and moans Frankie made around him, increasing arousal turning his breathing into shallow pants.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ… Such a -shit- Such a good, cock-hungry… Fuck!”

He felt Frankie start to struggle and pulled him off of his cock. They were both panting, trying to catch their breath, and Jack ran his fingers through Frankie’s hair to help soothe him. Frankie nuzzled into his lap then turned his head and breathed in Jack’s scent, marveling at the sight of Jack’s twitching cock. Smirking, Jack tenderly wiped some spit from the corner of Frankie’s mouth.

“How you doin’ down there?”

“Mmm... good.”

“Yeah?” Jack chuckled, “You sound a little cock dumb, Flyboy.”

“Maybe…” Frankie’s voice sounded dream-like and far away.

Jack put his hands on Frankie’s shoulders and pushed him back gently to see the head of Frankie’s cock flushed a needy red and leaking a small puddle on the hard floor beneath him, just missing the pillow cushioning his knees.

“Do you wanna cum, Flyboy?”

Frankie’s eyes widened at the whine that bubbled out of him, a deep flush taking a hold of his cheeks, and his gaze dropped from Jack’s dark, warm eyes.

“Yes, sir… Please.”

“Do you think you can take me?”

Jack watched Frankie intently, taking his chin between his index finger and thumb to make their gazes meet again. He didn’t want Frankie agreeing just because he thought that Jack would let him cum by doing so. Frankie bit his lip, then nodded.

“Words. I need to hear you say it, Flyboy. We don’t have to tonight if you don’t want to or can’t.”

Jack’s gaze was hard, yet tender, and Frankie felt a little lost in it, but he knew that he trusted Jack completely. He knew that if he wanted, they could stop at any time. Arousal pooled in his belly, and he knew that he wanted to take Jack, wanted to feel his weight pin him down, make him feel safe before sending him over the edge of pleasure.

“Yes sir, I-I can, and I want to, it’s just been a while.”

Jack’s chest tightened a little as he looked down at Frankie, smiling, then leaning down to kiss Frankie before moving down to nibble along the column of his neck.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow, Flyboy, and you just let me know if you need a break or to stop.”

Frankie nodded, then grumbled in surprise when Jack effortlessly hauled him up and bent him over the bed. He turned his head on the bed to breathe a bit better and saw Jack grab a bottle of lube from the nightstand.

“Do you want to use a condom? Me and Bourbon are exclusive, but I get tested regularly and am on PrEP for Statesmen. All my tests came back negative.”

Excitement tingled down Frankie’s spine. He wanted to feel him.

“No condom. I’m on PrEP too, got tested after Sam and haven’t been with anyone since.”

Jack nodded, then walked back over to the bed, his large, warm hand kneading Frankie’s ass.

The cool liquid was in stark contrast to the heat of his fingers. Jack slowly circled Frankie’s hole while he reached around and took Frankie’s cock in his other hand. Frankie’s keening moan turned into a whine when Jack gently pushed a finger inside of him.

Jack felt Frankie clench around his finger and started to lightly stroke his cock while letting him get used to the feeling. After a bit, he coated a second finger with lube and slid it in beside the first. Frankie let out a shaky breath, the muscles in his back rippling lightly.

“Look at you. You’re doing so well for me. Just take it easy, Flyboy.”

He continued to work him gently, understanding it had been a little while for Frankie. Then Frankie began to relax, slowly fucking himself back onto Jack’s fingers and forward into Jack’s fist. Jack let Frankie get used to the sensation again, adding more lube and delving deeper, harder with his fingers.

After they were able to work up to three fingers, Jack pulled out of him and took a step back, drawing a whimper from Frankie at the loss of contact. He heard the shuffle of denim as Jack shucked his jeans and boxers, then felt Jack’s steadying hand on his back.

“I’m right here, Flyboy.”

Jack murmured reassuringly while he gave himself a few strokes with his lubed up hand, he teased the hole with the tip of his cock with a feathery touch then slowly started to ease into Frankie.

“Fuckin’ Christ, Flyboy!”

Jack hissed, then moaned as he slowly worked himself inch by inch inside of Frankie, taking encouragement from Frankie’s keening and ragged breath.

“Fuck… So… -mmmmmfuckme- So full, Jack!”

Jack smirked at the way he had reduced Frankie to nothing but babbling, but his smirk quickly faded when he smacked Frankie’s ass and felt him clench in response.

“Shit, Flyboy, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”

Frankie moaned, fingers grasping helplessly at Jack’s shirt. His arms were still bound, and he needed more contact than the teasing drag of the fabric.

“Shirt… off, wanna feel you, Jack.”

He let out a low moan that filled the air as Jack leaned back, pushing himself deeper into Frankie as he unbuttoned then tugged his shirt and undershirt off. Frankie hummed when he felt Jack’s warm body envelop him, giving him the contact he wanted. Jack chuckled as Frankie’s hands sought to feel his soft tummy, fingers brushing the trail of hair that gathered there.

Pulling back, Jack grabbed the leather cuffs for leverage and he started to fuck Frankie in earnest.

“Fuck yeah, Flyboy. Taking me…. So. Fucking. Good!”

Jack’s heavy hand came down with a loud smack on Frankie’s ass, and he steadily increased his pace until Frankie was squirming and whimpering beneath him. Frankie was so close, teetering on the edge, but not quite able to get there. He felt like he was slowly being driven mad by exquisite torture.

“J-Jack! Please… I n-need-”

“Not yet, Flyboy.”

Jack gritted out, getting closer to his own orgasm. Leaning over, so his chest was as flush as it could be against Frankie’s back, Jack growled.

“Ask me nicely, Flyboy.”

“Please!” Frankie cried out, “Jack, please, I want to-”

Jack adjusted his hips, and dropped a hand to wrap around Frankie’s cock again. “Alright, let go, Frankie. Cum for me, Flyboy.” He thrusted again, hitting a different angle, finding Frankie’s prostate and causing him to cry out hoarsely as he came all over the sheets and Jack’s hand.

“Fuck!”

The answering growl that came from Jack’s throat seared Frankie’s soul, and he could feel Jack tense above him, his hips stuttering until he gave one final thrust and stiffened above Frankie. As Jack came, his grunts made Frankie’s chest flutter, the sensation of having been claimed and marked running hot in his veins.

Frankie’s breath hitched when Jack brought his fingers up to taste Frankie’s cum, and he moaned before bringing his fingers to Frankie’s mouth to give him a taste as well.

They both groaned as Jack slipped out. He took a moment to admire the mess he made of his Flyboy, soothingly rubbing Frankie’s hip.

“Alright, gimme a minute, Flyboy.” Jack’s voice was soft, trying not to interrupt the bliss that smoothed Frankie’s facial features.

Frankie grunted as Jack undid the cuffs one by one, easing Frankie’s arms to his side, massaging them gently to soothe the soreness.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t move. I’m gonna take care of you, Flyboy.”

Frankie mumbled in response. Jack cleaned himself up and returned shortly, with a soft, damp washcloth and a glass of water. He set the glass down, then began to gingerly dab the cloth over Frankie’s back, soothing him from the sting left behind by the flogger. Small little whimpers fell from Frankie’s lips at the contrast in temperature.

“Shhh, you did so well. This’ll help the burn a bit, Flyboy.”

Jack cooed, murmuring praises as he went. Once he was finished, he put the washcloth in the hamper, then wrapped the light comforter around Frankie to insulate him from Jack’s body heat. He pulled him in close, tucking Frankie under his shoulder.

“‘M so proud of you. My Flyboy… you were so good for me.

Jack kissed his ear, nuzzling the curly locks atop Frankie’s head, humming when Frankie curled in closer at his words. Frankie couldn’t do much more than that. His mind was still mostly floating on cloud nine, slowly easing back to the solid safety of being enveloped by Jack’s arms and his scent.

“You thirsty?”

Frankie nodded, but as Jack moved toward the bedside table, Frankie’s hand shot out and grabbed Jack’s wrist..

“No leaving, only water.”

Jack broke out into a hearty laugh, harmonizing with Frankie’s own laughter.

“It’s just right here on the night table.”

Frankie let him go. Jack stretched to retrieve the glass for Frankie, who took it to his lips, becoming more and more aware of his surroundings and less in the haze of subspace as he drank.

“Thank you, Jack. That was… incredible. I really needed that.”

Jack nodded and smiled down at Frankie, still nestled into his side, thumb rubbing circles over Frankie’s arm.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve done that, and I’m glad I could do that for you, Flyboy. I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t love every minute of it myself. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?”

Frankie shook his head, and Jack grunted as he peered over to look at the clock: 20:30.

“You hungry? There’s a biscuits and gravy place that delivers, and I did say I’d take care of you tonight, Flyboy.”

Frankie’s stomach growled in response and they laughed again. Jack got up and placed their order, then turned to find Frankie had retrieved his go bag and was rummaging through it.

“Shit, I barely have anything to wear. I wasn’t expecting to be gone from home this long.”

“Don’t worry about it, you can borrow mine. I know I definitely enjoyed seeing you in my clothes today.” Jack teased and winked at Frankie, pulling a flush to his cheeks. “Besides, me and Bourbon can take you shopping tomorrow.”

Frankie frowned a bit, remembering that he was technically out of a job, and though he was looking forward to a big paycheck from Pope, he had no idea when he’d next be able to get a decent job flying.

“Uh, I don’t really think I could afford much out here. I usually just wear cargo pants and a t-shirt or button down.”

Jack scoffed, “I said we’d take you shopping, not that you’d be paying, Flyboy. Either Statesman’ll pay or I will. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Frankie squirmed. He was not accustomed to such things, but Jack’s voice left little room for argument. Shortly after, Jack went to pick up their food from the lobby, and they promptly devoured it upon his return. Frankie sat back with a groan, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Time to hit the hay, I reckon.”

Frankie nodded and made his way to the guest bedroom. Jack frowned, putting a hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“I’d rather have you in my bed again tonight... if you’re alright with that?”

“Y-yeah, I’d like that.”

Jack nodded, then threw away the trash and tugged Frankie along to bed. He smiled as Frankie scooted to curl up beside him, imagining how things would be once you were in bed with them as well.

Frankie thought to himself how easy this felt, how good it felt. Hell, maybe this was something he could do and not have it end up like before. Just in this night alone, Jack had done more for him than his old partners had the entire time the three of them had been together. Despite how easy or how right it felt, Frankie knew that any relationship, especially one with three people, required a lot of communication and effort.

He couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather do that work with than you and Jack.

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moonbeamsung · 4 years ago

Text

Sink or Swim

You plunged deep into an ocean of love for Huang Renjun, the boy who had already fallen for the sea itself.

member: renjun

au: sailor!renjun x gn!reader

word count: 2.7k

genre: angst, fluff, slightly dystopian

warnings: character death/drowning, mentions of water (one passing mention of a typhoon and a very heavy focus on the ocean), light profanity

recommended song: when i was older by billie eilish

author’s note: Not only did the lyrics to the above song inspire this fic, but so did the general mood and sound of it :) I would recommend listening while you read, since I think it really adds to the atmosphere. My creativity took quite a while to cooperate on this one but I like how it turned out and hope you do as well, feedback is highly appreciated as always. Thanks to @astroboy-lele for her help beta-reading this (like 2 hours ago), and enjoy!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @hunjins

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet

The sleepy little fishing village you call home seems to sigh with the tides, waves lapping at the shore in a rhythm not unlike that of steady breaths. It’s the world’s way of inhaling the salty air, sometimes laced with the pungent scent of a fresh catch.

The sport itself is a life force here, the key to any sort of contact with the rest of civilization. Without it, the hill that the small town is nestled into might just swallow up the dozens of small brick buildings, reducing them to nothing but a memory. The murky waters would carry minuscule traces of its existence far and wide, but not even a name could break the surface.

Unfortunately, the village’s dependence on exporting fish leaves little room for the personal aspirations of its residents. At some point in your life, you’ll be called to assist with a certain aspect of the product’s distribution. The elders in charge find ways for even the most unskilled of hand and mind to participate, but they always save the hardest work for those who were born into it: the sailing families.

Quite literally, a love of the sea is in Huang Renjun’s blood.

His great-grandfather was around to see the beginnings of the seaside community, and he became the most famous fisherman known to the village by returning to the docks with large nets in tow, just bursting with sharp fins and thrashing tails. Those were the glory days, and generations later, the Huangs want their young son to follow in his footsteps, to become just as well-known for legendary angling expeditions.

But... he’s not really interested.

He would much rather take to the waves in a boat and chase the horizon, not bothering with casting a net or even a rod. To him, the ocean air is beyond suffocating, like a poison meant to expel any wanderlust from his lungs, to rip it from his soul. Renjun is a fiery spirit, and not even the crashing, slate-colored waters can dampen the adventurous spark burning bright and warm inside of him. It would take more than a typhoon to do so.

You admire that about him, too. How he holds a strong but steady resistance to the traditions of the village, the limited and meager expanse of the world that you’ve both lived in—no, been confined to—all your life.

Just think of the endless possibilities that await, beyond the hazy fog obscuring the fine line between land and sea. The faint shapes that loom in the distance, perhaps a trick of the eye but perhaps another sign of life besides you, seem so close but are still just out of your reach, teasing you both with what could lie outside this languid, ashen realm. Your heart races at the mere notion of such a thing.

The waves are impossibly blue when their image is reflected in Renjun’s dark eyes; you notice this one dreary afternoon as you let your feet dangle above the gentle ripples, sitting at the edge of one of the many docks that tangle through a mess of sailboats and fishing gear. The burnt orange of his threaded sweater stands out against the rest of the scenery, so monochromatic you sometimes swear the world is black and white.

He’s a splash of color, a splash of adventure and determination among a colorless mass of villagers who wouldn’t trade the way things are right now for anything. The dull, scuffed toes of his boots drag along the wooden planks as he trudges towards you, settling down at your side with a small gust of wind. Both anticipating and dreading the impending day when his father would teach him how to take to the seas and steer the boat that’s run in his family for generations, Renjun finds himself at the humble and rickety marina often. Anticipating because that knowledge would enable him to change the course of his own life on his own terms, and dreading because he knew of the harsh disapproval those actions would receive.

But still, Renjun stays right there on the dock next to you, diving past the shallows of his conscious mind and into the darkest, deepest abyss of his own thoughts, letting them bubble and sputter up and puff into the air like sea spray. If both your hearts are oceans of their own, they collide in this moment, as his ambitions and aspirations spill over into yours and settle on the seabed below. He’s chosen you to entrust these secrets with. You, the only other resident of the village with a familiar restlessness in your eyes when the sun disappears below the distant horizon, gaze wistful and longing to do the same.

And as if they’re the precious riches of a mythical swashbuckling pirate, you keep them there, each word a golden coin or sparkling gem hidden away in a long-lost treasure chest. The twilight sky that evening is the most vivid you’ve ever seen it, and daylight is fading fast by the time Renjun finishes telling you everything.

“I never knew there was someone who felt the same way I did about all this.”

The realization sets in late, just as the weathered surface you’re both perched on sways in the wind. You fear for a second that you might slip forward into the icy water; that’s how strong the breeze whipping through the air around you feels. That, or it’s due to the sheer force from your heart as it swells at finally meeting someone you’ve admired from afar for what feels like an eternity, ever since you understood what life was like and what it meant for you here.

Sure, Renjun’s grandfather may have been well-known in the past for one reason, but to you, Renjun is creating a legacy of his own for another, one of more than just adolescent rebellion and defiance. It’s one of undoubtable self-awareness, of an adamant refusal to conform to an existence he hadn’t chosen, and he’s finding a way to alter what he’s been seemingly destined for all his life.

“Me neither,” you shake your head, still in a small fraction of euphoric disbelief. “All that’s left to do now is stow away on a ship together in the dead of night, I suppose.” The comment is joking, but he takes it more seriously than you anticipated. The cloudy sky above brightens with his eyes.

You convene in shadowy alleys when no one’s looking, wasting away the hours as you mutually yearn for just a sliver of knowledge of the unknown, enthralled by the waves in the distance and what lies below and above and beside. Renjun sometimes whisks you away to a steep overlook that provides a panoramic view of the beach, the powdery sand so far beneath your bare feet gray enough to pass for finely packed pebbles. You find yourself melting into his embrace like the sea melts into the sky, blurring the already thin lines between air and water and between friendship and love. The way his fingers encircle your wrist with a curl like that of a cresting wave is telling enough on its own. His heart belongs to two bodies now.

You can’t help but notice all the similarities he bears to the element you’ve never lived a day of your life without seeing, without hearing the undulations of, without smelling or tasting the salty tang it brings to the air. Always moving, a force to be reckoned with, and evidently a possessor of the ability to travel far and wide on even the most fleeting of whims.

He’s utterly himself around the water, too. You’re almost positive he could effortlessly duck beneath the surface, take a breath, and his lungs would drink it in as if it was air. The only place he doesn’t feel like drowning is below the waves.

“Look!” Renjun points out an unfamiliar vessel tied down at the far end of the pier one day, sails torn in jagged lines as if they had been slashed by a larger-than-life creature. Upon closer examination, you find that the wooden bow of the sailboat is splintering and the windows into the cabin are shattered. The name carved into the hull is simply too faded for you to decipher the letters.

“This boat must’ve gone through hell and back,” you comment, your response delayed like an echo. “Who do you think it belongs to, anyway?”

He’s lost within a symphony of thoughts before he answers, “No one.”

Both incredulous and doubtful, you whip around to meet Renjun’s assured gaze. “No one ever comes and no one ever goes, it’s that simple. These same boats have been docked for years. They’ve belonged to the same families one decade after another.” The boy sighs, scanning the horizon for anything that might appear the slightest bit unusual. “The real question is where it came from.”

You have no answer for him.

“Regardless,” he speaks up again, quite matter of factly, “It’s ours now.”

“Ours?”

“Yes, ours. You said you’d sail away with me, right?”

It certainly isn’t the aspiration you would have envisioned yourself pursuing. You could have chosen to quietly obey, to live and work exactly as you were told by a community so rigid that you felt frozen to the bone. Not like the pleasant chill of the ocean, rather a restrictive pair of icy shackles, ever-tightening around your limbs and subduing your mutinous thoughts. But here you are, longing for a little something more both in life and with the only person that understands your heart’s deepest desires like they’re his own. And at their core, they are.

Without fear, Renjun takes a confident stride onto the boat’s deck, turning back to you and offering his hand as you mimic the action. “What are you waiting for?” He asks, eyes twinkling.

A warm thrill courses through your veins, growing hotter with each small preparation you make towards your inevitable departure. It’s an affair of many weeks, but at last you’ve gathered all of the necessary supplies and courage to carry out your plan.

The day finally comes, the day you’ll spring into action and take hold of your futures by the ropes, no one but yourselves telling you how or where to steer.

On the most moonlit night you’ve ever been alive to witness, you and Renjun both slip out from underneath your fraying comforters, unbeknownst to the rest of your households. Save for your two restless souls, the entire village is sound asleep, the unceasing lullaby of the tides casting its steadfast spell on bodies and minds like clockwork. Wooden floors so hollow and dusty that they barely creak under your weight, you successfully glide out your respective front doors in silence like translucent spirits.

No one else in the village had even acknowledged the foreign ship’s presence, but this shouldn’t surprise you, not in the slightest. The thick, colorless fog of life had long since settled around the shoulders of anyone and everyone who allowed it to, ensnaring them in a mind-numbing, monotonous routine. It blocks out the sun and the rain, the light and the darkness. It’s all so sickeningly the same. Empty eyes can’t pay any mind to their surroundings. Meanwhile, yours are full of hope, the brightest in the land.

In the distance, Renjun appears as vibrant and sprightly as ever. His form cascades down a flight of stone steps, leading from the sheer hills clustered with homes onto sea-level ground, and glides over the small dunes of sand separating you. He reaches the edge of the beach and your side a minute later, the thump of his heart keeping time with the tides. A nod, and you’re sprinting towards the docks, fingers trembling in excited anticipation.

It isn’t until after you’ve clumsily set sail that you see the ominous shadows of dark clouds laid out ahead, directly in your path. Even in the dead of night, a flash of distant lightning illuminates the world in a harshly jagged blaze for as far as the eye can see, as it strikes some unknown location out in front of the sailboat.

You’re certain the repairs you’ve spent days and nights working on with Renjun will be enough to keep the ship intact, despite the weather you’re sure to endure if you continue on this route. So you press on, missing the apprehension furrowing his eyebrows.

But because every force of nature has decided to convene against you both for reasons eternally unknown, the harsh winds weave their way in between the threads your careful hands had stitched on the canvas, meant to catch the breeze but being torn apart by it instead. Suddenly you’re struggling to hold on to your balance and you feel as flimsy as a leaf in a blustering current of cold, crisp wind.

Perhaps you should have practiced first. Renjun had not yet received a single ounce of training from his experienced father, and it was far from wise to leave the only life you’ve ever known without any knowledge of how to get to your next one. He’s trying to hide his panic now, wavering between the steering controls and warily glancing up at the gloomy midnight sky. One more flash of lightning, and all goes awry, all at once.

The water around you surges, as if physically drawn to the heavens, and more falls from above. Raindrops pelt down onto your arms and soak your hair, drenching the sails and filling the shallow hull almost instantly. Wave after towering wave crashes down, hard, and you’re no longer certain which way is up. About to lose your footing, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle like the snug hold of a life preserver.

Before all vitality can be lost and smothered by the raging ocean, a desperate Renjun holds fast to you, your thin clothes clinging to the damp skin of his hands. The storm is just too much, and there’s no way you’ll see the journey through like you had hoped. It’s difficult, excruciating even, to accept, and even more difficult for Renjun to let go of you like this. He’ll fight until the end, fight the fates and the invisible forces that life entails to hold you for just a few more seconds.

He won’t be able to live with himself, even in whatever afterlife may or may not come after the darkness he already sees, feels closing in on him, if he doesn’t sacrifice his last breath for a final moment of bliss, of you.

The sensation of Renjun’s wan lips pressing into yours overwhelms and surpasses all others, his palms tracing the edges of your figure like the tides trace the sandy shore. Urgently he draws you close up against him, trying his best to shield you from the inescapable terror of the sea. A lifetime’s worth of energy and emotion and passion is expended, making up for all the time in the world he wouldn’t and couldn’t have. The tang of saltwater meets your tongue, and you’re not sure if it’s the taste of him or of the ocean.

A weak tug on your palpitating heart, an internal scream in your ringing ears tells you that you should resent him for this, for propelling you forward in your apparently unachievable fantasies of living the life you wanted for yourself. But you don’t, you can’t. It’s no one’s fault, really. With this thought, a peaceful stillness washes over you amidst the chaos, and your awareness of the boy in your embrace fades steadily, slowly, then rapidly. Reality is getting paler, more black and white than ever, and you’re sinking further and further down towards the ocean floor miles below. The faint light of the moon becomes distorted from underneath the water, blurring with your failing vision. It all slips away, and then there’s nothing.

It’s a shame no one in the village takes notice of the two extra stars that blink into existence on that moonlit night, but yours and Renjun’s souls take their place among the rest, both a warning and a calling to anyone who dared attempt what you did. Two guiding lights pointing any other dreamers towards the hope of a better, brighter future.

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mashedpotittiess · 4 years ago

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Seance Season Chp 2

Chapter 2: Worries and Answers.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader. Mentions of OC x Hoseok. Non-Romantic mentions of other BTS members.

Summary: You repeatedly told yourself you did not have Magick. But one evening has you fearing for what you’re starting to become. In the middle of all of that, you have this pull to Jungkook that you both can’t quite explain. This new season of your life is Seance Season. Will you come out the same person?

Words: 13,500+

Rating: PG13-M’ish. Some Sexual scenarios but not the full Snex.

Genre: Magick, Witch au. Fluff, Angst and Smut. Slight Horror.

Tags/Warnings: Strong mentions of Magick and spells. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the idea of wicca and anything of the sort as certain remedies and ‘spells/chants’ are in fact real to some. Drinking. Fighting. Blood. Destruction. A man harms y/n. Horror to some degree. Extremely religious folk be wary.

Pls excuse if there are any spelling or grammatical errors. I don’t really have a beta or anything to scan for anything like that <3

All rights to pictures, songs and other types of media respectively belong to their owners.

Fic Inspired Playlist that I highly recommend while you read each chapter as they sent the mood. Link is here.

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad @mwitsmejk @ggukkieland

To be added to the taglist of this pic or all of my pics lmk through comments or dm’s c:

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“Thanks, for uh..the ride home and you saving me..and just everything.” you were still visibly shaken from the events that had just transpired but you tried your best not to show it, your face hardening as you worried at your cheek with your teeth.

The heels of your scraped up boots clacked against the concrete leading to the front door of your apartment complex. You’d probably have to say goodbye to these shoes as they not only had had enough ‘excitement’ for their lifetime but the heels were wobbly to walk on and you knew they were close to just breaking off.

Stopping at the wooden door to the lobby you looked up to meet the intense gaze Jungkook fixated on you. It wasn’t the same intense gaze he had at the club, no, this was and intense look of contemplation, of fear, of intrigue.

You searched for the right words to say but as you opened your mouth he did the same. “Are you okay to stay by yourself? You’ve had a long night. I’m not saying I’d like..stay the night, but I could always stay for a bit if you want to talk about tonight.” His eyes held sincerity in his words and if you were being honest you really didn’t want to be alone. You we’re scared of so many things right now and you weren’t sure you could even sleep if you tried. The thought of the man who attacked you possibly finding you again made a shiver run up your spine. You knew he was badly injured from Jungkook and it would definitely take time and powerful potions to heal him up right, but it didn’t settle the slight tremble in your knees.

“If you would..I’d appreciate that” With a nothing but a nod, Jungkook opened the door to you and followed behind your walking body.

Reaching into your purse that Jungkook recovered from the alleyway for you while you were in a daze, you pulled out your key and turned it into the deadbolt mechanism until the locking ‘click’ could be heard.

Gesturing with a wave of you palm, Jungkook entered your ‘home’ and you closed the door behind you both making sure to lock both locks, even if it was just for peace of mind. You watched his eyes move over the entirety of your livingroom/diningroom open space and the kitchen nook that was only separated by a wall with a cut out alcove between the dining area and the actual kitchen space.

“Make yourself at home, I’m going to take a quick shower. I think I packed up some of Tae’s clothes that he left at my old house and brought with me here, when I get out I’ll check.” you watched the dark haired mans left eyebrow cock at the mention of ‘tae clothes’ but didn’t ask why as you just wanted to get out of these clothes and try to wash away at the grime and blood that covered your body.

Taking a change of undergarments and pajamas with you to the bathroom, you left them neatly folded on the sink and made quick work of your clothing. Deciding most of it had been damaged and it would be best to just get rid of it, you threw it all into a heap and tossed your non ruined undergarments in the hamper nestled inside your linen closet.

You finally took in your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was wildly matted in spots from when you were against the wall and on the ground wiggling about to break free. Your body was littered with numerous scrapes and scratches that you knew would bruise over the course of the next week. You cheek had bits of dried blood from where the Ice dagger cut at your skin and the cut on your palm still had beads of flowing blood mixing in with brown specs of dirt and debris you accumulated from the alley floor. Your tearducts and nostrils were black with soot and ash from Jungkooks fire and what was left of your makeup was smeared in different directions. You looked like hell and a part of you was embarrassed that Jungkook had seen you like this.

Steam filled the room as you lit the eucalyptus and peppermint candle settled atop a shelf to help with the tension that was running rampant in your mind and body.

Stepping under the hot water, you felt it start to string your skin with the borderline too hot stream that you needed to feel. The water swirling into a pool at your feet making it’s way to the drain was tinted a mauve color and you watched until it finally ran clear. It was almost therapeutic, clear was associated with purity and the water washing off the physical grime of tonight made you a little less on edge. Thanking the element of water you made quick work of working shampoo into your tresses.

Atop your head sat a bun of hair and conditioner while you washed your body. The mixture of hot water and soap licked at your body and you hissed at the pain but you scrubbed vigorously at your body with your loofah none the less.

The water once again spiraled with a pink hue as the grime that hadn’t been washed away with just the water finally made it’s way off of your body. With a sharp hiss, the cut on your palm opened further. The swollen pink skin around the crimson gash stung as you made sure to really wash it. The cut on your face re opened in the same way while you washed all traces of makeup, soot, debris and dried blood from the delicate skin.

You din’t know if it was the color of the water or the thoughts flowing in your mind but you broke down. Tears streaming down your cheek as your knees gave out and you sat your body in the tub curling into yourself.

Sobs wrecked your body as you shook violently and you held your knees to your chest tightly in search of some sort of stability. Water made its way from your head and into your mouth and a quick inhale from a sob caused you to choke out the liquid.

Why did this all happen? What was going on? Could this all please be some sort of horrible nightmare that you could wake up from? What was this overwhelming urge you couldn’t quite describe?

Scenes of fire fanning over concrete and chunks of rubble lying under gaping holes littered your brain and dances behind closed eyes as silent cries of why continued to escape your lips.

Jungkook had been using paper towels to dry at the cuts and scrapes on his arms he had just washed in your kitchen sink when he heard a heavy thud echo from the bathroom. He had thought you might’ve dropped something but the sound of a choked sob prompted him to hastily make his way to the bathroom door. He had called out to you multiple times but the sounds of streaming water and heart breaking sobs were all he got in response.

Warm arms and a fluffy towel were wrapped around your body as you finally registered that the shower had been turned off and you were currently leaning against a solid body of muscle as Jungkook secured the towel around your body.

You both stood there in silence with his arms secured around you as tears continued to escape your eyes and it wasn’t until you were finally taking in deep breaths to calm yourself that you took in the situation. Jungkook had not only seen you naked but he witnessed your break down and helped you yet again.

Pulling away from his body, you clutched the terry fabric closer to your body and he politely nodded his head while making his exit to let you dress yourself.

The soft jersey fabric of your lavender colored pajama shorts and old megadeath shirt covered your body while your fuzzy socks felt cozy against your toes. Covering the candle to extinguish the flame, you made quick work of brushing your hair with the etched wooden comb your mother had gifted you for your 18th birthday, the wooden teeth detangling your hair gently.

Your eye cream had aided in helping to de-puff your eyes a bit but they were still visibly swollen and red. Shaking your head at your yourself in the mirror you finally exited your bedroom deciding you had finally calmed down enough to not only face the man who had saved you twice already but make yourself some tea to hopefully aid in clarity of your mind, body and soul.

Upon entering the kitchen, you came face to face with Jungkook who had been leaning against the counter waiting for you. “Before you say anything, I didn’t see much I swear. It was so foggy from the steam that it was all a blur and before you apologize just know you don’t owe me one. I just wanted to make sure that you were..well..okay.” He had insisted before you could even open your mouth and attempt the apology that had been sitting on the tip of your tongue as you didn’t know what else to say. His words put you at ease but you still softly thanked him to which he smiled that dazzling bunny like smile that was such a juxtaposition to his ‘rebel without a cause’ look he had going on. The tattoo spiraling from the tips of his fingers up to his chest and neck didn’t really help- WAIT when THE FUCK did his shirt come off. Omg was he half naked when he picked your buck naked body off of your shower floor and into a towel? Jeez you really should stop with the leering y/n, you were literally having a mental breakdown like 15 minutes ago, a breakdown that this tall dark and handsome man had witnessed. Shaking your head of the ‘offensive’ thoughts, you opened the upper cabinets by your stove searching from your herbs you wanted to brew.

Turning on the high heat setting on one of the burners, you set your black kettle down and got to work on filling a small mesh bag with a concoction. A pinch of dried Lavender buds, a 1/2 teaspoon of ground chamomile, a few dried yarrow flowers. Hmm, I’m forgetting something.

“Tangerine peel would be a great addition for that tea.” The voice to your right called out, reminding you of Jungkook’s presence. He was right, Tangerine peel had been known in the ways of Magick for its aid in purification, protection and clarity. The uplifting scent was also a plus. Grabbing a Tangerine from your fruit bowl on your small dining table, you carefully separated the flesh of the fruit from its peel and sliced in thin strips.

Steeping the Yarrow separately as it needed more time than the other herbs, you munched on the Tangerine. The sweet yet tart juicy flesh burst between your teeth as you chewed making you realize how hungry you had been.

“Are you perhaps hungry? I just realized I haven’t eaten in hours.” You questioned Jungkook with a soft bite at your bottom lip. “I could go for some food, I actually know this 24 hour pizza joint that delivers if you’re up for that.” He asked with a smile and you nodded in return promptly telling him to order anything he liked when he asked what your preferred toppings were.

The scent of the steeping tea was soothing and you found yourself gazing at the man in front of you who was currently on the phone ordering a pepperoni, mushroom and black olive with garlic butter crust. The words along making you internally drool. The tattoo on his left side of his torso looked so intricate, the swirls of black ink with small bursts of crimson in the shape of what looked like dahlias made their way from mid torso over his defined abdominal muscles and down his hip disappearing into the waistband of his pants. Wait why is his shirt still off? Where is it anyways? OH FUCK You had forgotten to bring him some of Taehyungs old clothes. You had finally noticed that he had cleaned himself up while you were gone, his wounds hadn’t been bleeding but you could see the shadow of bruises starting to form over his bruised skin and decided after you found the clothing you would try to make a healing salve to aid in the swelling of the area. Passing his frame to head to your room you caught a glimpse of what looked like his shirt folded on one of your dining chairs.

Holding what looked like it would fit his frame you thrust your hands out to him.”Here, the clothes I forgot to get you earlier. They look like they’d fit. Tae isn’t as uh..’muscly’ as you but you’re around the same-ish height” Mentally cringing at the word ‘muscly’ leaving your lips you glanced to the right of his frame and noticed that your tea had been presented in a mug on the counter with a napkin folded next it.

Jungkook thanked you and assured you it was more than okay, even adding that he ‘forgot’ he had been without a shirt. When you look like that you can get away with ‘forgetting’ being half naked.

A drizzle of honey perfectly complimented the steaming tea as you brought it to your lips and blew a stream of cool air before taking your first sip. The herbal concoction did wonders to your palette. Tangerine leant a soft citrus note that had you quickly taking another sip.

Gathering a plethora of herbs based essential oils you quickly got to work mixing the right amount of each together in harmony of what was needed most. The oils had now been ready to put into the coconut and jojoba oil you had already warmed. With a 1/4 cup of bees wax to help harden the oil like consistency you set the mixture in the fridge for quick solidification. You had finished putting away the multitude of jars that littered the counter when Jungkook entered.

“Hey thanks for the clothes.” you noted Teahyung didn’t look like that in those dark grey marled jogger style sweatpants and plain black crew neck t shirt that sported more than a few holes. You liked distressed oversized tops and Tae and Joon always left clothes at your old house so finders keepers. I mean you had to admit your friends were beautiful creatures, but you always looked at them as brothers and not a man that had his hands on your hips dancing rhythmically a few hours earlier.

The sound of the doorbell ringing brought you out of your thoughts and Jungkook stated it must be the pizza. Pouring yourself a glass of ice water you took both your mug and glass to the coffee table situated in front of your couch. Laying two paper plates on the wooden surface, you stacked a few napkins from your roll knowing how messy pizza can sometimes get.

The smell of garlic and pepperoni filled your nostrils and you almost groaned as your stomach grumbled embarrassingly loud; good thing Jungkook hadn’t been too close to hear. While Jungkook set up the cardboard box in between the two plates you had laid out, you brought him a glass of water after asking what he’d like to drink.

It was a comfortable silence that befell the living area as you both munched on the greasy goodness on the comfort of your couch. Your legs stretched outwards from their previously criss-cross applesauce position as you reached for your ice water after finishing your first slice. You had to admit, Jungkook had been right about the pizza being delicious. His bunny like smile made your lips curl upwards at your admittance.

Three slices of pizza and half of your water later you curled your throw blanket around your legs and sipped on the now lukewarm tea. Clearing his throat, Jungkook turned towards you from his position on the other side of your grey couch, a napkin in his hadn’t as he dabbed at his mouth. “Are you..are you okay to uh…talk about what happened earlier?” You weren’t quite sure if you were to be honest, but maybe he had some answers to the questions you had regarding the events that had transpired in that alleyway.

With a long sip of your tea you nodded in answer with a swallow. “Y/n do you know what you did? Like are you aware of what happened?” your head bobbed up and down slowly as you took in the trepidation on his face.

“I could see the smoke if that’s what your asking. I saw the tendrils twist and curl into those obsidian looking spears. I couldn’t really control it, It’s like I saw what was happening but I was just a bystander of sorts as my body was taken over.” You paused trying to figure out the best way to phrase the next series of sentences. “I could..hear..voices that sounded like my own and something deeper almost sinister..telling me what to do, what I wanted to do, what I should do. As I was watching I almost wanted to give in to everything the voices were saying. I was so upset and frustrated that it all came out at once in a physical way. It’s like I was in one of my recent nightmares, just watching as I destroyed that wall. Whatever it was wanted me to do much worse but it’s like this light was cast and parted the smoke that clouded my vision and I was able to break out of that sort of trance. It’s like when the wall was destroyed, either the sound of seeing the concrete turn to piles of rumble made me realize what I did. I just..I j..just want to w..wake up and it all be some sort of sick nightmare. Jungkook I don’t have magick, I never have. M..maybe it was some sort of spell that I was under and it can just be broken. Maybe that man had some friend that cast a hex.. I don’t know.” Fingers shaking you reached for your mug and chugged the rest of the cool liquid hoping to calm yourself down.

“Y/n that wasn’t spellwork or some sort of hex. That was dark magic. Something I’ve only seen once and i..that was a long time ago. It looked like you were being consumed by it, not controlling it. Your eyes turned the color of Onyx and your veins looked as if they were full of ink and not blood. There was this shrouded aura around you that pulsated with power. I felt like lightning had struck next to you and I was..almost..scared. But then you came to and some part of me needed to help. You keep saying you don’t have magick but you seem to know a lot about it.”

With a nod of your head you gestured towards the framed picture atop the mantle that held your tv. After you had explained to him the magick your parents and friends held he nodded in understanding, his question seemed to be answered.

“So you didn’t come into magick before your 18th birthday?” A shake of your head answered his question. “I don’t know much more about how dark magic is obtained. I just know it is capable of so much hurt and destruction. You aren’t anything like the holder I’ve..come across.”

“I don’t want this Jungkook..I don’t want to be this way. What if it was all a fluke? Like, what if it all goes back to normal tomorrow?” His tongue poked at the inside of his left cheek as he contemplated what you had said. “I don’t think that’s how that works y/n, but maybe it will. We can hope. I really think you should ask your parents about it though, you said they own a magick shop right? They must have more knowledge on this than I do. I know you said you don’t want them to try and bring you back home but y/n you need to know what’s going on. Even if it was a fluke and never happens again you still can’t just run the risk of it happening again and without a magic shield protecting the area you could do actual damage to something or worse..” He was right and that thought alone scared you. Standing up you threw the paper plates into the brown cardboard box and took it to the kitchen for recycling.

Your mug had been placed into the sink basin by Jungkook. “How did you know to put Tangerine in the tea? You also must’ve known the brewing time to pour it before the herbs burnt and got bitter.” The questions slipped from your mouth as you washed the grease residue from your hands, in your defense not all active magick holders are well versed in teas, tinctures and the such. Thats why your parents shop had been frequently visited. Some witches finding things as simple as ‘human magic’ as they called it, to be just that simple, too simple for them to care to learn or worry about doing. “My mom taught me as a child before..she passed” A brief look of hurt crossed his face and you couldn’t help but regret asking.

“She was a fire holder like I am. She said Dad was too even though he passed around the time that I was born. Funny how we can have magick but still pass from disease and sickness.” His lips curled into a tight lipped small smile as you softly let out an apology for his loss. “Both passings were white some time ago. Don’t apologize for things you had no part in.” Jungkook’s front teeth showed as his smile widened and while you were put at ease you were still regretful of asking and having him relive parts of his past.

“But that’s why I really believe you should tell your parents what happened. You have someone to hopefully help you with what’s happening, to guide you. Earlier you asked about my Inferno Fire. When my mom passed..madness is a understatement for what I felt. I was consumed with the need to avenge her and my power..it was a lot to control. I still have my moments but what i’m saying is, you have the guidance I didn’t have. Let’s say your parents don’t have answers to whats going on, at least they know and can maybe try and be there for you.” You knew he was right, while you hoped it was a fluke of some sorts, there was no way you should risk it again without consulting your parents and best friends.

“I’ll check to see what time the trains leave tomorrow, or well later today since it’s passed midnight.” You figured the sooner the better and having the next few days off until Thursday night helped.

“You don’t have a car right? If you want, I can drive you. You said it’s a few hours out of the city? I just don’t know if you being on a bus alone before knowing what’s going on is safe. What is another holder comes after you again and this time you’re not only defenseless but other can get hurt as well. The shield can only do so much. We got lucky tonight that he and myself both put up shields that blocked the brunt of the power but a moving vehicle with people so close together is another story.”

To say you were surprised by his offer was an understatement but you agreed none the less as he had a fair point. You both agreed he would stay the night ‘his insistence and your obvious agreement’ and after you both rested for a few hours as it was already passed 3 in the morning, you both would go over to his apartment so he could change before heading over to your hometown.

“Wait are you sure you’re okay with that? What about work or a roommate or a..girlfriend. omg are they okay with you being at my place? or a club for that matter” Word vomit like questions escaped your mouth and you instantly regretted them despite the incredible smile they caused Jungkooks lips to form into.

“Well my work will be fine. I don’t go to the office as much since Jimin runs most of it now. The only roommate I have is a pet cat named Luna-“ A cock of your eyebrow “Don’t judge me, Stella Luna is an iconic children’s book and we can all learn from momma bat. Anyways Jimin will go by and feed you if I ask him to. I don’t have a girlfriend and if I did I surely wouldn’t have been at that club dancing with you like that.” You felt the blush creep up your neck to your cheeks, tinting them in a soft crimson.

“I..alrighty then, I should probably head to bed. Long day ahead of us and all. I’ll bring you some pillows. Before I forget, there’s a salve in the fridge for you. It should hopefully help with the swelling and bruising.” You didn’t give him the chance to reply as you bounded off to your bedroom in search of the extra bedding you had tucked away on the top shelving of your walk-in closet.

Two fluffy pillows and an extra blanket filled your arms as you made your way back into your living area where Jungkook was currently sitting while scrolling on his phone. Looking up from the glowing screen of his cellphone, Jungkook took the bedding from your outstretched arms while a polite ‘thank you’. “The salve feels great by the way. Calendula was used to make it right? and I thought I smelt yarrow too.” With a smile you nodded as his assumptions had been correct. “Peppermint to give the swelling a cooling sensation, Burdock root oil for skin circulation so the area can hopefully heal faster and a little bit of chamomile to soothe.”

“Feel free to leave the lamp on if you’d like. You already know where the bathroom is. Um, I’ll be setting my alarms to around 10 because I already know that if I don’t set them I’ll sleep all day. Goodnight Jungkook”.

“Goodnight y/n” With a eye crinkling gentle smile, the man in front of you tucked the pillows behind his head.

How long had you been laying there staring at the wall? 30 minutes? An hour? 5 minutes? Every time your eyes fluttered closed and you started to enter the dream realm, you snapped your eyes back open afraid of going back to the same nightmare you’ve had twice before. The tea had worked in calming you down and giving you a sort of clarity but it didn’t prevent you from still asking the what if’s and the fear that swirled around in your brain.

Tip Toeing your way to the kitchen, you blindly reached for what you thought was the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room and instead grabbed ahold of a fist full of air while leaning a little too forward. “Shit fuck” you hissed as your big toe came into contact with the leg of a dining chair. You hadn’t even heard Jungkook move from his spot on the couch when arms reached behind around you and you were suddenly placed in a chokehold.

Flailing your arms, you swung your right elbow backwards and hit the dark haired mans left ribs. “What the FUCK?” you yelled out and the man immediately let go of your body. Flinging yourself onto the wall behind you, you reached around for the light switch.

With the area finally being illuminated Jungkook’s eyes widened “I’m so so sorry, I just heard a voice and thought someone got in!” Shaking your head you dragged out a breath of air. “An intruder that’s short? I mean it could happen but you didn’t think of the height, mixed with the voice of a female mixed with you being in someone else’s apartment that maybe it was the owner of said apartment?” Top teeth bit into his plump bottom lip and you sighed. “I appreciate you for being on the offense with the ‘intruder’. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

With an adamant shake of his head and a promise of it being ok you slowly nodded your head. “Have you not slept yet?” You chewed the inside of your cheeks before answering quietly.

“I understand, but you need rest y/n. Would you like it if I..slept in there with you? NOT IN A SEXUAL MANNER.” His hands went up defensively and you held back the chuckle that threatened to escape your throat. “I just mean maybe another person being in the room will help you sleep better and if you have a nightmare I guarantee I’ll wake you up”. Studying his expression and glancing at the time on the stove fuck it’s already 5:20.

“Okay” was all you replied before he followed you to your bedroom after flicking the kitchen lights off.

You could feel the heat coming off of his body despite your shoulders being a whole foot away. It wasn’t an uncomfortable heat though, it was actually almost soothing. Like a heating pad on your back when that time of the month came, TMI analogy I know but it was true.

The sound of Jungkooks breath slowing down as he was brought back to sleep lulled you into your own slumber, thankfully before morning light streamed through your window.

The sounds of two alarms going off at once blared into your ears. With a groan you reached blindly forward towards your phone with usually lay on the nightstand. Instead of the cool plastic case that enshrouded your phone, your hair was met with a fistful on floppy hair.

Your eyes had never shot open so fast before in your life. Blinking slowly, you stared at the unmoving body that held you in his arms as you were pressed to his defined chest. How was he still so peacefully asleep with alarms blaring? His lips were softly pouted as he dreamt and his eyelashes looked like ebony feathers racing the tops of his cheekbones. The mole under his lip almost hiding beneath his bottom lip as he pouted. He was beautiful and you, you..oh fuck I probably have morning breath and look like shit.

The attempt at detangling yourself from his grasp proved futile as his arms only pulled you closer until his heated breath fanned over your neck. You pushed back the shiver that ran up your back with every breath he took. With a deep breath of your own you pushed yourself backwards with all your might and managed to flop right off of the bed and land on the rug covering your floor.

Pulling yourself up to a sitting position you watched as he clutched your comforter under his chin as he was still asleep. Wake you up if you have a nightmare my ass. He managed to wake up from me SOFTLY cussing but alarms blaring do nothing.

You took the time that he was still asleep to brush your teeth and hair and even put a light dusting of makeup over your face. With a pop of mascara and brow gel brushing over your hairs, you pulled away from your bathroom mirror and ran your finger over the now scabbing slice over your cheek. The tinted moisturizer and powder evening out your complexion but not covering your wound as you knew it needed to heal without possibly getting infected with anything covering it. A soft swirl of bronzer over your temples and the edges of your face made you look more awake than you felt as you were currently a walking zombie (no offense to zombies).

Walking back into you room, another of Jungkook’s alarms was going off and he hadn’t even budged from his position. Jungkooks eyes shot open as both of your hands gripped his shoulders as you leaned over him, his name leaving your lips in a sort of loud groan/growl. A lazy smirk pulled over his lips as he cocked his left eyebrow up at you. “You know, if you wanted to groan my name I could make it a lot more fun for you.”

The fire that licked at your loins was doused with water as you stepped back from his frame and cross your arms over your chest. “It’s 10:30 and your alarm has been going off non stop. How the hell do you sleep through that?!” Jungkooks smirk was quickly replaced with a sheepish grin. “I’m really bad with alarms. I promise if it’s like someone telling me to wake up or something urgent like what I thought was an intruder last night I’ll wake up but alarms go off for about an hour before I actually wake up. Luna usually jumps on my face and paws as my cheeks so I can wake up cause she’s so fed up with the sound.” The image of a cat squishing his soft cheeks caused you to giggle.

“You look nice by the way, not that you didn’t last night. I’m just saying you get ready fast.” Jungkook left to the bathroom after you thanked him for his compliment. Your feet pattered against the wooden floor as you searched through your closet for something to wear.

The light blue boyfriend style jeans being oh so comfy yet hugged your ass in just the right way. A worn grey/black Nirvana shirt with plenty of holes and gashes served its purpose in covering your torso and a pair of OG black checkered slip on vans completed your road trip outfit.

You slipped on your favorite birthstone embedded ring over your thumb when Jungkook entered your room in search of his phone. “I’m ready whenever you are” you nodded in understanding and grabbed an oversized navy blue hoodie in case you got cold. After a quick interval debate, you decided it would be best to pack extra clothes in case you stayed the night back home. Telling Jungkook of your decision, you hurriedly shoved a couple of random graphic tees, a pair of pajama leggings, an extra pair of socks and your back up travel size toiletries into a satchel along with your phone charger.

With a quick look through your purse to make sure you had everything you needed you followed Jungkook out of your apartment and into his sleek black luxurious vehicle. “I sent Jimin a text telling him I’d be gone for a day or two so he could watch Luna. Speaking of Luna, she’s very cautious of new people so if she avoids you please don’t take it personally.” you nodded your head in understanding and your eyes followed the passing high rise buildings from the window. While you hadn’t really explored the city you remembered this area being upscale from the few school trips and random road trips with the boys you had been part of.

The sunlight streaming through the windows was cut off as you all pulled into an underground garage that was attached to a high rise building, rows of expensive cars lined up in their parking spaces and you instantly felt underdressed. Picking at the holes in your jeans you softly nibbled the inside of your cheek as Jungkook pulled into his spot.

The garage level elevator dinged as you all entered the space and you let your eyes roam around. The walls were mirrored chrome, the rails looked as if they had been recently polished and the floor was a crisp white marble against your worn in shoes. “I could always just wait in the car..I don’t exactly look the part right now.” Your cheek was pulled between your teeth and the dark haired man shook his head adamantly. “You look fine y/n, plus I wouldn’t want to leave you in the dark garage while I took who knows how long getting ready.” He had been right, the garage lights seemed to be motion activated so they only lit up when a car pulled in or occupants exited the elevator or stairwell, so you would in fact be shrouded in darkness.

As the elevator doors opened to the 30th floor your eyebrows shot up at the modern design of the hallway. Marble floors seemed to extend over the ground here as well. The walls were a soft grey toned taupe color that was accentuated by the dark stained wood crown molding. Above your head, the ceiling had the same color as the walls except rows of squares were made with the crown molding and in the middle of each square sat a mirror which aided in making the space look large. In front of the elevator was a thin console table colored with the same wood as the molding, atop the counter stood a few silver toned vases that were filled with bunches of white hydrangeas and soft pink roses.

You had noticed that unlike your building that held many doors along the hallways of each floor, this building or maybe it was just this floor but as you turned right and followed Jungkook you had only seen one or two white wooden numbered doors. The glass and chrome mini chandeliers lit your way as you turned another right and ended up in front of another hall with two doors, one of either side.

Setting his palm over the electronic keypad, Jungkook entered 4 numbers followed by a green ‘enter’ button and the locking mechanism clicked as is unlocked. With a turn of the handle, the door was softly swung open and you followed Jungkook though the threshold.

With a flick of a light switch, the apartment was now illuminated. Damn, so this is how the other half live. The kitchen to your left was a completely open space, a large white marble topped island with silver metal stools separated the space from a long black wooden table and chair set that sat at least 6-8 people.

To your right was a large living area complete with a built in black wooden console and shelving that housed a massive flat screen in the middle. Atop a shelf to the right of the tv were multiple different gaming consoles and rows of what you assumed to be games and dvd’s. Encircling the area were plush medium grey couches that formed a large sectional, to the side were two light grey nailhead trimmed wingback chairs. In the middle of the couches was a coffee table that looked as if it was made of twisting large logs that were dipped in liquid silver with a clear glass square top. In between both wingback chairs stood an endurable that matched the coffee table but at a much smaller scale. Tucked against a wall next to one side of the sectional couch was a chrome finished standing floor lamp with square shaped glass encircling the lightbulbs. Along the wall of the open dining and living area were large dark grey curtains that seemed to hide massive windows that looked as if they were floor to ceiling from what you could see.

The walls in the dining area held various modern eclectic paintings but besides that, the walls were pretty barren. The soft light grey almost white of the walls made the space look exceptionally clean. A loud purr and something rubbing against your left ankle took you out of your thoughts and appreciation of the beautiful space.

A small black bundle of fur was circling around you leg as it rubbed itself against the tops of your shoes. Bending down you smiled softly at loud purrs that Luna was letting out. A big pair of green eyes landed on yours and Luna meowed up at you. Extending your hands towards her head, you softly scratched behind her ears as she nuzzled her head against your fingers.

In front of you knelt a dumbfounded Jungkook as he seemingly waiting for Luna to come to him but instead came to you for attention. “Luna, i’m your dad! How could you? I get that she’s pretty but didn’t you miss me?” A small pout graced the mans lips and you couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped your lips. He resembled a child that got his gameboy taken away from him.

“Well since she seems to like you, I’m going to shower real quick and change. Make yourself at home. Theres food in the fridge but I was thinking of maybe picking up something for the road if that’s cool with you.” You let him know that was more than fine with you as your tummy was starting to grumble. Standing from your previously knelt position you watched as he entered a room to the left of the dining area, only two doors lined the wall and before you could ask what the other was, his mop of hair entered your vision from a small space as the door re opened. “Theres a bathroom in the door to the left of the little hall next to the living room.” With that, the man closed his bedroom door again and you followed Luna to the massive couch as she seemed to want you to sit and give her more attention.

She said in your lap as you smoothed your hands over her sleek black fur. You noted her bowl of food and some high tech water system on the side of the kitchen island and smiled at the little plaque reading “Luna” nailed into the white wood of the kitchen island over her bowls. You loved your couch, you really did but as your butt sank into the cushions of the sectional, you sighed. What the fuck did Jungkook do to live this lavishly?

You scrolled through your phone with one hand as you pet the cute fur ball atop your lap with the other. You had sent a text to your parents and your friends asking if they were free this afternoon as you were coming back home and needed to talk. The text was answered immediately with worry from your mom and you assured her you were fine. Jin had asked if you needed a ride from the train station but you had let him know you were being driven by a friend to which your friends had a plethora of questions ready.

With another sigh you worked your fingers over the touchscreen, answering as many of the questions as you could with a promise of ‘i’ll tell you the rest when I get there’.

You didn’t knew how much time had passed but you assumed it to be a short span before a door opened and Jungkook emerged with slightly damp hair and a new outfit. The dark denim hugged his thighs and you tried your best not to drool. A plain black crew neck shirt and dark grey hoodie covered his torso and you internally were little jealous at how someone dressed so casually could look like they were walking the stage at new you fashion week. In your mind you were miss potato and he was a greek sculpture.

Slipping on a pair of black combat boots he gripped the small leather overnight bag between his fingers and planted a kiss to the top of Lunas head as she hopped off of your lap and stood on the back of the couch. “Ready?” Your feet followed his as he exited his apartment and before you both could reach the elevator door, a shrill voice called out to you both.

“Jungkook! You weren’t home last night, I tried to bring you a slice of tiramisu that I had ordered from Ronaldos but you weren’t home.” The blonde pouted her pink colored lips and her big brown doe eyes bat innocently. “Oh you had a friend with you.” The word friend seemed to be accentuated more than the others as she twist a strand of her curled hair between her manicured fingers.

“Oh, yeah I didn’t come home last night, thanks for the thought though.” Jungkook politely called out. “Another night at Jimins? I love a good bromance. Or perhaps a long night at the office? I told you that you needed to relax a little sometimes. You’re always welcome at my place.” Her lips grinned lasciviously as she stepped towards you both slightly and ran her fingers up Jungkooks fabric covered arm to his shoulder. She acted as if you weren’t even standing there not even a couple of feet away.

“No thank you Melissa, I already told you I’m fine.” Her manicured nails curled around Jungkooks bicep and she hummed. “But you seemed to be more than fine last time you came over. Why don’t you come over right now?”.

“No” Jungkook sternly answered and turned his back to her after shaking off her grip. Not a single step was taken before she gripped his bicep and moved to turn him to face her. Your eyes followed the movement as she leaned in close to his face. You told yourself the annoyance that filled your body was simply because she was taking up your precious time that could be spent driving not the fact that she so calmly set her paws all over the man that had you feeling all sorts of tingles when you were with him.

“Come on, we both know you had fun Jungkook. Just tell your friend you’ll hang out later” Her voice lilting as she drug out the ‘kook’. Her hand trailed to the side of his face and she thumbed his cheek.

You suddenly felt your wrist being pulled as Jungkooks large hand wrapped around yours and pulled you towards his chest which had now been turned to face you. A heated palm softly cup your cheek and you couldn’t even ask what was going on, Melissa’s large eyes being the last thing you saw before Jungkooks face took over your vision. Plush lips pressed against yours firmly yet so soft as the breath seemed to leave your body with a squeak. “Jungkook wha-“ Melissa’s lips snapped shut as he deepened the kiss with a palm flat against the small of your back. Your mouths now open against one another but no tongue was introduced.

As he pulled back, Jungkook hovered his mouth over yours, his breath coming out hot against your lips. “Melissa, I’ve said it before i’ll say it again. That won’t ever happen again and no I wasn’t at Jimin’s nor was I at the office. I spent all night with this ‘friend’ of mine. Speaking of which we gotta go, long day and night ahead of us.” At the word ‘friend’ Jungkooks palm moved from the small of your back to your hip and gripped softly. With the last word leaving his lips he winked at you and turned both of your bodies away from Melissa and towards the elevator.

When the doors closed and the garage button was pressed Jungkook let out a long breath he seemed to have held. “I’m so so so sorry for that y/n. You just don’t understand how many times I’ve let her down nicely. I made one fucking mistake when I was drunk off my ass from being depressed thinking of my mom’s death and I just I don’t know, I knocked on her door and it happened. I left right after and told her it was a mistake on my part for taking advantage of her kindness and offers but that it wouldn’t happen again and that I hoped she’d understand but obviously she didn’t understand. It’s been like 6 months since it happened and she still hasn’t stopped and I just wanted to shut her up. I’m so fucking sorry I pushed the kiss onto you, I just took the opportunity of having a female especially an attractive one at that being there with me to show her I meant it when I said no.”

Laughter filled the elevator as it dinged, the doors opening. “It’s okay. You’ve helped me over and over again these passed couple of days, I’ll just chalk it up to helping you. Plus it was just a kiss, don’t freak too much. You literally look like a ‘dear in the headlights’ except change the dear to a bunny.” Jungkook pouted his plump bottom lip as the lights overhead turned on while you both walked to his car.

You wouldn’t admit the tingles and butterflies you had around him were intensified when his lips met yours. You felt as if you were ignited from the inside out, the same way you had felt at the club and it took everything you had in yourself to not reach up and grip his hair to pull him closer as you slipped your tongue into his mouth right in front of the blonde watching.

A shiver ran up your spine at the thought and you bit down hard on your top lip, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh to keep you from dwelling on the situation that you had built up in your mind.

The smell of breakfast tacos wafted through the car as you both munched on your food. Bags of snacks and drinks sat at your feet and the soft hum of the radio gave the start of the trip a chill vibe as Jungkook connected his bluetooth to his stereo system.

The ride was peaceful even with the little bouts of Jungkook obviously speeding on the semi deserted highway. You noted that he had a beautiful voice as he hummed to Billie Eilish’s ‘You should see me in a crown’. The bottled espresso drink you chugged had helped awaken you and you found yourself bobbing your head along with his playlist of songs.

With a text of ‘Just got into town, will be there soon’ you gave Jungkook the directions of the streets he should turn onto to get to your parents shop.

Pulling up to the little shop you knew and loved, you lead the way up the pavement to the wooden door with the sign now saying ‘closed’. It had only been a little passed 4 when you both arrived but you figured your parents would have closed the store early when you texted them that you would be visiting. Your father had suggested the meeting place be the shop to which you all agreed. With a quick glance behind you, Jin’s small suv sat parked next to your parents car and Namjoons dark blue Jetta.

With a deep breath in your knuckles rasped against the wood of the door as you knocked. The door creaked open and you were immediately pulled from your spot to a solid body you immediately recognized as Taehyungs by his earthy natural scent.

Your hands shot up defensively as you quickly informed everyone that you’d explain the now scabbing small wound on your cheek and bandaged hand in a bit as that was part of the reason why you were here. At the word ‘cut’ your friends eyes shot open but before he could ask you shook your head to solidify the fact that you wouldn’t be answering his question until later.

A big boxy grin widened across his face as he pulled away and you were pulled into another pair of arms. Jin hugged you tight as his arms wrapped around your shoulders and you pat his back. The third pair of arms that encircled you belonged to Namjoons and you held him tight as it had been awhile since you had last seen the man.

Your mom and dad embraced you in a group hug you didn’t know you needed and when they finally pulled away you watched as your mom wiped away the stray tear that made its way down her left cheek.

“Everyone, this is Jungkook. He’s helped me while i’ve been in the city.” Your friends eyes scanned over his broad frame as your parents bid him a warm hello.

“Yours a magick holder and a strong one at that. Hi, I’m Jin.” With an extended hand he shook the mans tattooed one. “I am, you’re pretty strong too. Actually, you all are. I can feel your auras from here.” Jungkook’s hand waved as he gestured around the room. Namjoon introduced himself the same way Jin had and Taehyung stood there with a questioning glint in his eyes.

You knew that look, it was the same one he had on his face when they found out Joshua had been your first kiss, Brandon had asked you to prom and Chan had been you first boyfriend. Your friends were all protective of you but Taehyung showed it a little bit more, you knew he meant well and just wanted the best for you but it still sometimes got on your nerves when you had to remind him you were a grown ass woman. With that being said you were somewhat of a hypocrite, knowing you were super protective of the three men as well, you probably held that exact same look in your eyes when you met someone they were interested in.

“Jungkook, this is Taehyung. Tae this is Jungkook.” Taehyung nodded out a ‘hey’ as his right arms wrapped around your shoulders. With a shake of your head you followed your friends to the makeshift table and chairs they had set up near the bookcases, your parents already sitting on the two plush chairs that were always tucked into a corner in case shoppers wanted to sit down and read a bit before purchasing. Sitting yourself onto a lightly padded black folding chair you tucked your hands in front of you not knowing where to start.

“What’s bothering you honey? You’re biting the inside of your cheek and i know you do that when you’re stressed or deep in thought and not that I love that you’re here, I didn’t think we’d see you back so soon.” Your mom’s gentle voice questioned and you breathed deeply to center yourself before answering her.

“Mom, there’s so much I need to tell you well so much i need to tell all of you. But before I start. Jin, do you remember when I asked about those dreams ‘for a friend’?” Your fingers curled up into air quotes and he nodded with a seemingly knowing look crossing over his handsome features. “I think you already know but it wasn’t a friend, it was me.”

His chest rose and fell as he took in a deep breath as you confirmed his suspicions. You swallowed down imaginary saliva before you glanced around at your family surrounding you and opened your mouth to tell them about the nightmares and the weird feelings you’ve had to how you met Jungkook at your job and how he had saved you from the attack in the alleyway and witnessed your transformation of sorts.

By the end of your re-telling of events your moms face had paled and your friends donned eyes as big as saucers. Your dad gripped the edge of the table as his knuckles whitened and Jungkook sat beside you calmly.

With a shake of his head your father looked at your mom as you asked if they had any idea what could be happening. “You need to tell her.” It was cliche and straight from a teen fiction novel but the look in his eyes told you it wasn’t a light matter.

Reading the room your friends and Jungkook stood from their seats but your mom shook her head telling them to sit back down. “You all are as much of y/n’s family as we are. You need to hear this.” Moving her chair around, your mom moved closer until she was sitting right in front of you and half your hands into hers.

“When I was a little girl, I had met someone who would later become my best friend. Her and I met at the park you always loved as a child, the one where you’d swing and swing all day. Every week we met at that very park, we would talk and chase each other in a game of tag and just laugh like little kids do. I knew even back then that I’d had to hide my powers from her despite my younger self wanting nothing but to show her I could sprout a small dandelion front a pile of dirt. Back then Magick holders were even more strict with not getting too close to regular humans. It was out of fear that those thoughts were made, we would be cordial with them but never get too close.

As I grew older the want to tell her about Magick grew stronger. We would meet multiple times a week and confided in each other with so much but I was scared of how she would react. One day while waiting for her to meet me by the little dirt mound that was shaded by a big oak tree, I fiddled with the dirt. My fingers brushing the earth until I mindlessly let some of my magick out. A path of babies breath sprouted from the earth through my fingertips and before I could make it go away, shoes cam into my vision. I didn’t even have to explain as that little girl just smiled and sat right down next to me. I probably looked like a fish with how my mouth was opening and closing but she simply placed her hand on mine and asked if I could keep a secret.” A deep breath exited your moms lips before she continued.

“She held magick I had only heard about. As she brought her hands to cup over mine, a bright white orb of light manifested before bursting into golden butterflies. She told me her parents had taught her to hide her magick aura from others and that’s why I hadn’t felt her aura. She said she had wanted to tell me especially since I was a fellow magick holder but was scared of her parents finding out.

From then on our bond grew. I had been so happy when we found out we would both be attending the same high school. Your father- or well my husband and I met in a shared english class and she and him became quick friends after I had introduced the two. The three of us had become close friends but I always kept her secret from everyone. When her parents passed in our sophomore year she stayed over at my house to help with her grieving. They had been the only family she had and the only light holders she knew. After we had graduated high school she left with the promise of coming back and visiting despite me spending with her not to leave. With a bright smile she left for the city in hopes of finding other light holders and learning more about her magick.”

Your mom’s grip on your hands had tightened and your brows furrowed at how she had referred to your father as her husband. “I had stopped hearing from her a month in to her trip and I feared for the worst. I had even gone to the city in search of her but to no avail. About a year and a half later, a knock was heard at our front door and imagine my surprise when I got up in the middle of the night and opened the door to a very pregnant her standing on the porch of my husband and I’s new home. I let her in immediately after greeting her with a big hug. She looked terrified and clutched her stomach between her arms. She was sweating and looked as if she was having trouble standing. When my husband awake from the noise in the living room she took our hands into hers and pleaded that no mater what happened to her that we would take care of the baby she was carrying. I tried to ask her what she meant but she once again asked before taking a deep breath and gritting her teeth.

I throw car keys at my husband as I knew she had started to go into labor. Her water breaking and streaming down the legs of her sweat pants making me wrap my arms around her and guide her towards the awaiting car. When we arrived at the hospital she gripped my hand and please once again with me. With a yes I told her it would all be alright and she was wheeled to the birthing room.

A few hours later I was called into the room and she lay there with a bundled baby in her arms. She looked so tired not just from giving birth but like something else was weighing on her mind. She asked me if I remembered saying yes to taking care of the baby when something happen to her. She was so sure something would happen and it confused me.

A few days later she and her baby came to live with us as I adamantly gave her no other choice and she agreed as long as I kept ‘my promise’ she said. We were sitting in the living room a few days after she had been living with us and I asked why she had been saying something was going to happen to her. I told her I would go back on my promise if she didn’t tell me and with a shake of her head she looked at the little bundle of joy in her arms. She told me the father of the baby was a dark magick holder but was adamant he had not been a bad person. She said she was scared of some of the people that surrounded him and that when she had realized she was pregnant she started planning to get away in fear of what would happen to the child had she stayed around those people. While I was shocked to say the least, I just sat and listened to her.

It was approximately two weeks and one day later that she got up and left to what she said was the grocery store. Hours passed and at one point the baby I had been rocking to sleep started crying. There was an overwhelming feeling that took over my body and I knew something wasn’t right. We searched for her that night around town but came up empty handed, we had even filed a police report the next day. Two days later a body was found by the local river in a small shack that had been burned down. The body belonged to my friend, the police said it looked as if she had been in a burning building and died from smoke inhalation but the burned shack had been but ruins for years as the fire that took place had happened over a decade ago. Police searched for her killer but I knew it was dark magic, the soot the fear she had it all made so much sense.

That’s why I feared for you going to the city. Deep ties to dark magick lie within that city. Stories were told while I was in high school of light holders being hunted by dark magick holders in fear that they would try to stop their insidious ways. Dark Magick was not given like our other elemental powers were. A long time ago a group of Elemental holders; one of each element, came together in want for more power. They were power hungry witches with dark desires. They prayed to the dark Gods for immense power and even made sacrifices of living beings. In answer of their want, they were stripped of their elements as the Goddess did not want such people to hold power given by her. After their power was stripped, the dark Gods came together and granted them with dark magick. Like light magick, it is very rare, passed down by generations of holders who shared the same power. However, a person with enough wickedness can bring forth dark magick by sacrifice and doing the bidding of the Dark Deities wishes.”

Your brows furrowed as you took in all the information. “Y/n you were her child. I promised I would take care of you and I have. Believe me when I tell you I never told you of your birth because I wanted to protect you. I was scared they would take you from me like they had taken her. I never told you of your parents powers because you never showed signs of power. I had hoped you would be able to live a normal life.” Tears had streamed down your mothers face and you pulled her into a tight hug.

You had been crying as well and you reached for fathers hand. “You both are my parents okay? I don’t care that you didn’t give birth to me. You raised me, you’ve been there for me.”

“I’m so sorry y/n, I tried to keep you from all of this but it seems you’ve started showing signs of power. If we had told you then maybe we could prepare you.” You tightened your grip on your parents hands and you shook your head adamantly, telling them no. They had done what they thought was right and you were grateful for that.

“I felt it, a long time ago. When I had first practiced protection spells in your room with Tae and Joon. I felt this power trying to push through the barrier but I didn’t put much thought into it. Then when you were telling me about the nightmares I just had this weird feeling but you said it wasn’t you so I believed it.” Jin’s voice was shaken and you shook your head. “I told you it was someone else because I didn’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest.” Jin stood from his seat and engulfed you in a big hug to which you reciprocated. His embrace felt comforting and you needed it as you took in all the information you had just been given.

A while later and more comforting embraces and conversations your father looked over the table towards Jungkook. “So y/n said you have the element of fire? Thats not very common, well not like air and water.” Jungkook nodded his head in answer and your father smiled. “Thank you for saving our daughter and bringing her here. You’ve been a real help and should she go back to the city like I know she will despite us asking her not to. I ask that you please keep an eye out for her.” You mother had been pleading with you to stay but you assured her you couldn’t do that to your lease on your apartment or your job. You told your parents you were going to learn more about your power should it come forth again and you weren’t going to run away from it.

You friends weren’t very pleased with your decision and as you all decided to go back to your parents for dinner, Jin stood. “If you want to go back, I’m moving too. I’m not okay with you being alone, even if you have Jungkook as a friend to help.”

Taehyung and Namjoon both stood in agreement and you shook your head. “Guys you all have lives and jobs here, I’m not that far away you could just vis-“. “Y/n we could just visit hight now and look what happened! What happens if that man comes back and Jungkook isn’t there or what if you need help controlling your powers. I can always apply for jobs there with my qualifications and my life here? I mainly just have you all as friends.”

Jin was going to budge and you knew it. “If that’s what you insist on doing then fine but you’re not moving in with me.” You all cleaned up the makeshift table and you followed your friends out of the store while your father locked up.

“I’ll apartment search.” Jin huffed out and Namjoon said he’d be able to transfer colleges easily to the city with his GPA. Taehyung added that while he’d have to wait for his semester to end he’d be sure to go when it ended in a couple of months. It was now apparently decided that Jin would be giving his two weeks for work when he went in for his next shift and that him and Namjoon would be moving to the city soon, with Taehyung in tow in the coming months despite your disagreement. They assured you that you’d live your own life and they wouldn’t crowd you, they’d only be there when you needed them.

The drive to your parents house was filled in silence as you mulled over the fact that you had had a different set of birth parents. You still hoped that your power wouldn’t arise again and that you’d be able to continue living a normal life but part of you knew that would never happen. Jungkook had asked how you were feeling while he kept his eyes on the road ahead of you both and you mumbled out an ‘I don’t know’.

Pulling up to the wood and brick home you had grown up in, you exited the car with Jungkook in tow as your parents invited you all in.

Dinner had gone surprisingly well despite the obvious stress that resonated in each of you and hung over the home. As your best friends hugged you goodnight with a promise of ‘see you tomorrow’ and ‘I can’t be here when you leave in the morning but you bet your butt i’m serious with moving to the city’. Rolling your eyes at Jin you waved them off and turned to enter the warm home. The heat of the house warming your arms from the chilly late night air.

Jungkook had been scrolling through his phone when you reached him. “What’re you looking at?” You asked. “Looking for a nearby hotel so that I can come pick you up in the morning.” Your mom had overheard his answer and placed her open palm on his shoulder with a shake of her head. “Nonsense, you’re already here, might as well stay the night and save the hotel fee. i promise we have better breakfast too.” A chuckle lit her face and Jungkook gave in, not wanting to argue with your mom.

“Perfect, you can sleep in y/n’s room or the couch as the guest bedroom is currently being renovated from a few days ago when my lovely husband exploded an experimental ‘sudden shower’ potion that went awfully awry. Your mother hadn’t mentioned that in your daily texts and she shrugged at your questioning face and scrunched eyebrow.

Jungkook entered the living room with both of your bags that had been placed in his back seat earlier that day clutched into his right hand effortlessly.

You hugged both of your parents goodnight and led Jungkook to your downstairs room that had been secluded from the upstairs bedrooms. When you were about 15 you had pleaded with you parents to give you the downstairs bedroom and make your then bedroom an office or the guest bedroom. You stated that you needed to privacy and with nothing but a wall between rooms, you weren’t able to live your ‘teen life’. After many days of ‘No’s’, your mother had finally agreed to the switch when you reasoned with her that blasting your Whitesnake CD had always annoyed her nightly meditation. She still had threatened to kick your ass if she found any boy in your room without her knowledge to which you retorted with ‘what if i’m a lesbian’ to which girls were then treated in the same manor as possible male ‘corrupters’ of her daughter.

The overhead lights illuminated your bedroom as you gestured your hand to the door on the right. “The bathroom is over there in case you want to freshen up or anything.” With a nod of his head, Jungkook took his bag with him to the conjoined bathroom and you opened you overnight bag to pull the necessities you’d need for the night. You’d have to share your bed with Jungkook yet another night but you weren’t made uncomfortable by the idea in the slightest. In fact it was the total opposite, he had made you comfortable despite the tingles in the pit of your stomach he sometimes made you feel.

If you were being honest, it had been one hell of a few days, almost too much for one single person to take in. In the span of a little less than a week you had moved to a new city, got a new job, met a man that would later save your life, been attacked by a magick holder, come into a power you still wished would never resurface and learned that the couple that had raised you and been all you’d known as a family hadn’t been your biological parents. It was as if life was working way too fast and all you wanted was so be able to live a normal-is life or at the very least if all of this had to happen, could it at least happen over time? Not all within such a short period of time? The Goddess and God worked in mysterious ways and you tried to believe they had a plan for you.

With a quick prayer to the Great Mother you sat at the end of the bed and took a few deep breathes to center your chakras. The air pushing from your lungs acted as a metaphor for the stress literally being carried away by the element of air.

The door to your conjoined bathroom opened with a slight creek. Jungkook had kept the same plain T shirt as before but had changed his earlier pants for a pair of thin cotton deep blue pajama pants that hugged at his thighs when he sat on an empty side of your bed, the bed dipping slightly with his larger frame.

A clear of your throat kickstarted your motions as you made your way to your bathroom to get changed.

Your soft flannel pajama pants felt like heaven against your legs, the worn in fabric replacing your denim jeans. You relished in the clean feeling your cleanser had given your face as you brushed your teeth, the bristles working in tandem with the minty paste against your teeth and gums.

Patting the rose face oil over your skin as the last part of your skincare you bundled your worn clothes into a ball and tucked it under your arm. Clicking the light switch off you softly closed the door behind you and made your way to your overnight bag that sat next to your bed to place your bundle inside.

Your bottom slightly dipped into the mattress as you sat down on the other side of Jungkook who had been leaning back on your headboard with his cellphone in his hands. A soft glow from the nightstand lamp was cast over the man to your sides features as the overhead light had been turned off by the time you made your way out of your bathroom.

“Hey, I’m sorry for imposing. I just really didn’t want to turn down your mothers generosity.” Jungkooks body had turned towards yours slightly and you shook your head in answer. “You aren’t imposing at all. If anything, i’m sort for imposing on your life. I feel like I’ve drug you down this rabbit hole of sorts and you’ve been nothing but there for me. I know you told me to stop apologizing but still. Thank you for everything. Also, there’s no way my mom would’ve taken no for an answer if you had tried to turn down her offer.” A light chuckle escaped your lips as you both smiled.

Shifting under the thin covers your mother had replaced your plush comforter with you leaned your body down against the mattress and reached for your cellphone to set alarms and check your social media.

The bed further dipped as Jungkook mimicked your posture as he laid his larger frame against your shared space. You nodded when he asked if you had wanted the lamp off and soon the only light that illuminated the area came from each of your cellphone screens.

Your bedroom was soon shrouded in darkness as both of your devices now sat on either nightstand. The ebony haired man mumbled a set goodnight as his breath seemed to slow and even out. Exhaustion took over as your eyelids fluttered closed as you entered your dream world, this time instead of darkness, your dreams were filled with jars of herbs as your parents whipped up potions and laughter as your friends watched Taehyung fumble with bottles as he helped prepare the concoctions.

A heat crept up the side of your neck as you stirred awake. Leaning your body back slightly you sighed in comfort as a comfortable heat enveloped your back. Your actions were stopped short when a soft groan sounded against your ear, the arms that had been wrapped around your middle now gripped at your hips to still their shuffle backwards.

The chirping of birds was heard through the room but sunlight had failed to fully penetrate the thick curtains that covered the windows shrouding your room in a very dim light. Your eyes shot open at the groan that entered your eardrums and the soft vibrations against your back as the sound reverberated off of a strong chest. Your heart drummed against your ribcage as you tried to dislodge your body from the larger one behind you.

A pass of your bottom against something hard and protruding caused a familiar feeling of arousal to flood the pit of your stomach. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip and the fingers gripping onto your hips shifted to your stomach, palms flattening over the soft skin under your shirt.

“Don't move, I just…need to calm down” A deep voice mumbled from behind, a bit gravely from sleep which hadn’t helped the stewing hints of arousal that set itself into pit of your stomach.

Shifting your thighs slightly, your eyes clamped shut as you tried your best to steady your breathing before mumbling an answer. Afraid of the possible sounds that could try an escape your throat if you replied, you managed a slight nod.

The closeness of his body set your aflame and you felt yourself getting dizzy with a mixture of need and heat. A clench of your thighs caused your ass muscles to squeeze slightly and Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a bruising grip on your stomach.

He was really trying to keep himself from doing anything, given that you both were currently in your parents house and you undoubtably had gone through enough lately but the quiet whine that escaped your clenched lips caused his flattened palm to press you back against him.

With a short thrust of his hips, his covered bulge met the curve of your ass. The movement mixed with the clenching of your thighs caused a lovely friction against your core and you leaned your neck back against the curve of his shoulder as his hips repeated the motion.

Long fingers splayed themselves against your lower abdomen as your hips moved back to meet his short yet powerful pelvic movements. The cold metal of Jungkooks rings feeling like ice against your heated skin as your shirt rode higher up your torso.

A low groan came up from the depths of your throat as you ground your hips hard against Jungkooks moving ones. “Y/n, you’re playing with fire right now.” The husky voice sounding in your ear making you feel the ghost of lips over the shell of your ear.

“Maybe I wan’t to get burned.” If the groan Jungkook let out earlier was arousing, the sound that currently escaped his throat was almost enough to send you over the edge.

The hand that gripped your hip now trail down to your covered thighs, his fingers dipping into the soft flesh. The raise of your leg caused you to feel his clothed member more clearly and a thrust of his hips had you reaching up towards his scalp to tug at the silky black locks that covered his head.

“Fuc-“ “Y/n! Jungkook! Breakfast is ready.” The voice of your mom was heard from the other side of your bedroom door and as if in a trance you both sprung up from your positions on your bed.

—————————————————

‘cough’ CoCK bLoCK ‘cough’. Hi ily for reading this chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it!

-C or Potittiess

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #btsfic #bts x reader #seance season #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungguk #witch au #fanfic #smut #fluff #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #seokjin #namjoon #Taehyung #Jimin

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remmyswritings · 4 years ago

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within the stacks// theodore ‘teddy’ nott x f!reader

Alright puff!!! You asked if I could write more Theo Nott imagines and I happened to have one already written! This is a librarian!Theo x f!reader fic that I plan on turning into a series. Let me know what you all think and ENJOY!

And thank you to Mimi ( @willowbleedsonpaper ) for beta reading this a couple weeks ago 💛💛💛

You admired the building in front of you, it had clearly seen a lot over the years and yet it seemed even more beautiful with age. After checking the address one last time, you slowly opened the door, peeking your head in before entering completely. Your roommate had recommended this library to you when you told her that the university library you enjoyed working at so much had closed until further notice... but you were rather surprised by this recommendation since your roommate has never really been into libraries- at least until you caught a glimpse at the librarian.

He was really cute to say the least. His curly brown hair was long, but not too long and it framed his face nicely. Thin framed glasses sat on his face, slipping down his nose slightly but not covering anything. The edges of a green sweater wrapped around his hands as he meticulously went through the books in front of him. When he finally looked up you swore you heard something that sounded like a gasp, which you then realized had come from you as you ducked your head.

Looking back up, you saw that he smiled softly at you, a blush decorating his cheeks, “Um- is there anything that I can help you with?”

You shook your head “Oh- no.... um, this is my first time here is all. My roommate recommended this place to me.”

Theo nodded his head as you scurried over to one of the tables and hoped that your brain would become all consumed by your research so that you would no longer be distracted by the man sitting next to you.

It was sometime later when a groan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by your head which hid in your hands. You heard the scraping of a chair on the floor, and the soft footsteps of someone walking around but didn’t think much of it until you felt a hand on your shoulder, “Are you okay?” A voice whispered.

You shook your head and glanced up to see the librarian looking down at you with worried eyes, “I’m fine... really, I just thought that this book that I had found would be perfect for my research but- um- well turns out it wasn’t.”

Theo’s eyes shifted from you to the pile of books in front of you and then back to you, “Well, what’s your research on? I might be able to help you find something else.”

You sat there opening and closing your mouth as you thought about what you wanted to say, when the perfect explanation came to mind. Sweet and to the point, you figured it would be enough but then Theo opened his mouth and asked a question, and then another, and then another. Unlike most people who asked about your research out of common courtesy, Theo actually seemed interesting. You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, explaining everything to him, how you started it, the books you had already found, the books that you hoped to find. When a small silence started to lull between the two of you, Theo stood up, “I think- I might now just the thing you are looking for.”

You watched him disappear behind the stacks of books, only to reappear several minutes later with a single book in hand, “This might just be what you are looking for.”

As your eyes scan the front and back cover for more information, you can’t stop the smile growing on your face. This, you think, is exactly what I was looking for.

“Thank you...” you start only to realize that you didn’t even know his name. “Oh... Theo.”

“Theo,” you like the way his name rolls of your tongue, “Thank you Theo,” you smile softly at him and hold your hand out for him to shake, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” it’s but a whisper and yet you had never heard such sweet words leave his lips, “It’s nice to meet you Y/N.”

––

Puffs: @willowbleedsonpaper @lunalovegxxd @dogweedanddeathcaps @potterverseimagine @in-slytherin-we-trust @masterofthedarkness @imboredandneedalife @lila-lilakk @strawberriesonsummer @kalimagik @62442-am @nebulablakemurphy @kashishwrites @queendcnn @mytreec @curious-curios @jenniweaslee @cherrycolakxsses @peeves-a-legend @booksmusicteaandanimals @heart-of-tempered-steel @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lettersfromtheocean @izzytheninja @abbiesthings @idont-knowrn @acciotwinz @strangerpilot011 @enjoying-fantasyland21 @audreythehufflepuff @simplymagicalwritings @thatcatsit @criminalyetminimal @chaoticgirl04 @am-i-space @slytherin4ever

#harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #theo thirst #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #remmys writings #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore x reader

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fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

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The Find

Summary: Arthur and Y/N tidy up their wardrobe. What he comes across surprises him.

Warnings: Smut, Swearing

Words: 3,664

A/N: This request comes from Karen - it’s the first one I ever got! Thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for beta-ing and helping me improve this piece by sharing her thoughts!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

If you’ve sent me a request and I haven’t responded, it’s because I am working on it and will answer once it’s posted!

Instead of allowing a lazy Sunday, Y/N decided they needed to do a project together. She had too many clothes, she claimed. And Arthur could use some new ones. Though he disagreed with her assertion, never having owned much, he went along with it. Such suggestions were part of having a girlfriend, he'd learned. Sorting through the bedroom closet would be a couply activity, anyway.

It turned out to be nice, better than when he'd kept house alone. Her smile was infectious as they rearranged everything, and it grew each time they inadvertently bumped into each other. He succeeded in talking her out of donating a sheer blouse, insisting it looked good on her. She replaced the dry cleaner bags on his Carnival costume with zippered nylon ones. Then she retrieved a wooden box from the top shelf, sat on the edge of the bed, and patted the spot next to her.

Floral patterns were carved in its top and sides, and the center held a purple and yellow pansy, pressed under smooth glass. It was quite old, the corners worn, the front closure tarnished. The hinges released a quiet squeak as she lifted the lid. "These are my most important keepsakes," she said. Her degree was in there, the Christmas ornament her sister had made, and her divorce papers. The rose he'd brought when he'd come for dinner was now dried and delicate. And she'd held onto the cork from their first bottle of wine. The letter he'd written her after Murray was sealed in a clasp envelope to protect it.

Arthur's chest swelled. The small container resting on her lap was something she'd had long before they'd met, perhaps since she was a kid. It was astonishing he took up so much space in it. Maybe she'd like to keep one of the payment slips for the ring he was planning to give her. (They were currently tucked safely in his journal.) He wrapped an arm around her back and squeezed her to his side.

The bleating of the phone interrupted them, right when he was planting a kiss to her shoulder. "Wait for me," Y/N said. "I'll tell them to call back later." He watched as she left the room, admiring the slight swivel of her hips. After a minute, "Mabel, what's going on?" drifted in from the kitchen. Ah, her sister. That would take a while. Sighing, he stood and continued alone, hopping on the step stool and humming as he went.

The shelf was dusty. The old law books were likely from when she went to college. He flipped through a photo album and set it aside to go through with her later. In the back corner, there was a red, paper gift bag, its top neatly folded closed. When he retrieved it, the weight surprised him, and he studied it with a curious expression. She probably wouldn't be perturbed if he opened it - she'd shown him her mementos, after all. Gingerly, he took a peek.

A carton was in there, a foot long. Pictures of women in athletic gear were on the side. They were holding a white object to their elbow, their calf, their lower back. He read the sentences on the packaging carefully. "Helps relax muscles." "Relieves tension." "Soothing vibrations."

Oh. Oh. Arthur crumpled the top of the bag quickly as he giggled, his cheeks on fire.

On her radio show, Dr. Sally had said the massaging wand was revolutionary. That it helped educate women about their own bodies, learn what they liked. Y/N hadn't mentioned owning one. It would have troubled him a few months ago. His insecurities would have told him it meant he wasn't very good. That he wasn't enough for her and never would be. But because of his ongoing treatment and comfort with her, those concerns were minor today. And he was intrigued.

The women he'd pasted into his journal were often touching themselves, ecstasy clear on their faces. Even though he still found those pictures arousing, he wasn't stupid and knew they were staged. Experience had stripped away the illusion. But the thought of Y/N pleasuring herself made him shiver and lean against the closet's door frame. His mind filled with images of her sprawled on the bed, on the sofa, on the floor. The scenarios he'd pictured since they'd met were numerous. His mouth at the apex of her thighs while she tried to type papers for work. Her going down on him in the dressing room at Pogo's. Or his favorite, the one he'd gone back to most, joining with her completely as she fell apart, because of him and only him. If he asked, would she be willing to-

Upon hearing Y/N hang up, Arthur haphazardly tossed the bag back in its spot. He busied himself with the sweaters and shirts in the "keep" pile, folding and hanging them as needed. She started telling him about the call as soon as she came in. Caught between his natural bashfulness and the urge to blurt out what he found, listening was difficult.

She must have sensed something was off, because she stepped next to him and said, "You look warm."

He ducked away as she tried to feel his forehead. "I'm okay." That was only half true. It was going to take awhile for him to figure out how to express what he wanted. But he shot her a grin. "It's just a little hot in here, that's all."

~~~~~

Y/N's seamed stockings finally sent him over the edge three days later. He'd noticed them when she put on her heels at the door, and ogled her as she strode down the hallway after their longer-than-usual kiss goodbye. It was possible she simply wished to be pretty (which she always was, no matter what she had on), to be professional, to make herself feel good. Still. She knew those nylons turned him on, and he chose to believe she wore them for him.

He made a quick call to her at lunch and said he was looking forward to tonight. There was strain lurking beneath her kind tone when she asked, "Why? What's tonight?" Nothing, he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck. He just missed her. She sighed, told him her day had gone sideways, that she needed to go. But she couldn't wait to see him later and loved him.

Both to relieve his own nerves and to cheer her, he resolved to make everything perfect for her to come home to. That's why, rather than cooking together, he was stirring minestrone and adding pasta. Why he'd already set the table and put the bunch of pink carnations (her favorite) from the grocery store in the middle. Why the wine was open and ready to serve. The kitchen radio had been switched to the sixties and seventies music she preferred. He swayed along to it, even as he hoped one or two slower songs would play so they could dance.

He'd been trying to find the right way to broach the subject all afternoon. Stuttering through his request wasn't his preference. It'd be fun to be playful - if he could gather his courage. God, it would be absurd if he couldn't. Shouldn’t courage come naturally if he hoped to spend the rest of his life with this woman? "Y/N, I was wondering if you could-" Cocking his head, he tried anew. "I love you, Y/N, and I wanted to know if-" Rolling his eyes, he retrieved bowls from the cupboard. "It's your fault I can't think straight." He took a breath, stretched his arms, and tried to focus. Nothing felt right. He'd have to improvise.

The unlocking of the door and the thudding of her bag to the floor alerted him to her presence. He laughed lightly as he tested the soup, enjoying the thrill of anticipation. She approached in his peripheral vision. "Arthur, you didn't have to do all this," she murmured.

The gladness in her words made it worth the effort. He poured a glass of wine for them both. "You were having a busy day."

She took a sip and braced herself on the counter. "I had to run back and forth from the office to the courthouse. We were missing copies of motions for tomorrow's hearing. My typewriter's ribbon ran out and we didn't have any replacements." A puff escaped her before she turned to him. "But every thing’s lovely now. Come here.” She pulled him in for a kiss.

Arthur tried to pay attention while they ate; he disliked missing a moment of her. But she was already driving him to distraction. The way her lips pursed as she blew on the food before taking a bite. Her caresses to the petals of the flowers. How she kept touching his sleeve. When she untied the bow at the collar of her burgundy blouse, opened the neck to reveal the start of her clavicle, his stomach flipped. "I wanted to- to ask you a question," he said softly.

"I knew something was going on." She dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "You haven't said much besides 'yeah' and 'mhm.'"

Damn. He'd tried to be normal. "Sorry." A sheepish smile crossed his face and he smoothed back his hair. "I'm a little nervous."

"You don't have to be." There was excitement in her voice, barely contained, and she scooted her chair closer. "I'm sure I'll say yes."

He quirked a brow at her. "Um, okay." A sharp exhale as he sat straighter. "I've been thinking about this a lot." His gaze darted to hers, seeing it sparkling and filled with affection, before falling to his lap. He fiddled with his spoon as he forced himself to speak. "I found something. When we were cleaning."

A pause. "What did you find?"

The wine was sharp on his tongue when he sipped it. "The massaging wand?"

The blush on her cheeks traveled to the rest of her face and she hid behind her palm. "Oh my god," she laughed.

Having the advantage wasn't usual for him in these situations. It was refreshing. Luckily, she didn't seem upset, so he continued. "Dr. Sally recommended it on her show. You're beautiful. We both might like it. I mean, I know I would, but... Would you show me?" Her quiet nagged at him, so he changed his approach. "You turn on the light every time we make love," he teased. "Don't you remember when you came home and surprised me?"

She peeked at him, the corner of her lip lifted. "It's never even occurred to me. I can't believe it occurred to you." After a few moments, she cleared her throat. "I won't lie - it's...an arousing idea. And all this," she gestured at the table as she spoke, "has made me pretty hot and bothered." Her hand went to his inner thigh, fiddling with the seam. "Though I have to admit, I was expecting you to ask something else."

His eyelids fluttered at her caress. "What?"

Grasping the tie at the front of his pants, she finished her drink. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll ask me later."

~~~~

This was happening. It wasn't his imagination. Y/N was taking a fantasy of his, one that belonged in dirty magazines, and turning it into a demonstration of her love for him. Was it weird to be moved by something this lewd? He should be ashamed to have asked her. But he wasn't. And when he felt her smile as they lay in bed, his throat tightened. Their breaths were harsh as the pearlescent buttons of her blouse opened halfway under his ministrations. A soft moan left her when he cupped her breast, tweaked its taut tip through her bra, and she yanked at his shirt until he pulled it off.

She ground against his clothed hard-on and hastily unzipped her black skirt to slip it down. He swallowed thickly, following her movements, huffing at the sight of her dark red garter belt and matching panties. It wasn't often she donned those, preferring more practical undergarments. Had she, by some means, known what he was thinking when she'd gotten dressed that morning? The notion was silly but warmed him anyway. Relieved, he groaned and reclaimed her lips.

The dance of her fingers across the lean muscles of his chest caused him to suck in air, which he held while she skimmed past his ribs to his stomach. "I haven't done this in front of anyone before," she said, a little uncertain.

Arthur chuckled, letting her take his hand and guide it between her thighs. "I hadn't, either." He pushed the cotton to the side and fondled her slit, reveling in how she bucked into his touch. It was almost enough to get him to forget the show, to forget about his plan, to sheathe himself inside her without a moment's pause.

But she grabbed the vibrator off the stand and switched it on. Its buzzing was louder than he'd presumed, like a hornet's nest. Amusement must have shown on his face, because Y/N smirked and turned the wand to a lower setting. "Remind me to plug the clock back in when we're done," she said, shedding her underwear and kicking it off her foot. He settled next to her hips, boosting himself on his elbow to see her. Shyly at first, then growing bolder, she swiped and pulled at her outer lips. They drew back as they swelled and she giggled, running the pads of her fingers over herself. "You're the only one who could persuade me to do this."

He grazed her inner thigh, the straps holding her stockings in place, and pressed a kiss to her leg, observing as she lay the massager's rounded end to her core. Even as her pelvis arched slightly to meet it, she kept it in one spot - he'd thought she would have moved it around. The heat flaring in his groin was, thankfully, lowering his inhibitions, and he found he could ask, without anxiety, "Did you do it a lot?"

"I did this more after we met." He laughed happily, realizing he'd been the cause of her increased desire. A whimper fell from her as she moved towards the vibrator again, her frame trembling. Her brows pinched with every increasing undulation of her hips. "It's been awhile. I'd forgotten-," she gasped, "-how intense this feels."

When she began writhing, he watched the sway of her breasts, straining against her bra. Her stomach was quivering with every shallow breath, and he felt his own ardor heighten with hers. He leaned forward to get a better look at her folds. But, upon finding the toy covered her completely, he furrowed his brow. And it registered that he didn't need a prop involved; he just needed her.

Gently, he caught it, waiting until she met his gaze to turn it off and put it on the bed. "You're enough," he said quietly. "If that's okay." She nodded lightly. One of her legs spread to the side, the other bent at the knee. He shuddered as she held herself open, fingers drifting over her sensitive nub. "Are you - Are you thinking about me?" Say yes. Please.

Her explorations went lower, tracing the edges of her entrance, open and waiting for him, then dipping below to gather slick on her fingertips. "Yes," she hissed, tapping her bud repeatedly. She jerked towards her hand as she bit her lip. It was enchanting, watching her play herself like a well-tuned instrument. She seemed to know exactly how to touch her own body. What pressure to apply. How fast to go...

Her breast spilled out when she pulled down the cup of her bra, her head falling back into the pillow. Her thumb teased her areola and she keened. "You're all the way inside me." Another tug to her pebbled nipple, and the hand at her vulva hastened. "Your cock feels so good, Arthur. You fill me so well."

"Y/N, god." He hadn't expected pornography to spill from her mouth. Groaning, he pushed his briefs away and gripped his erection, running his thumb along the tip as he glanced from her face to her center.

The glistening of her arousal was spreading, a spot forming on the blanket beneath her. Her cries were becoming frequent, her body tensing. Her eyes opened and went to his length. "Get in me."

That took him aback. "What?"

"Get in me. Please." He scrambled out of his underwear and knelt between her legs, positioning himself so her thighs rested on his, and he held the soft skin of her upper leg. After a couple of quick pumps, he sank into her entirely, grunting at the sight of her reddened, desperate sex welcoming him. She stroked herself, first pulling at the clitoral hood, then circling it, more frenzied with every rut.

This was far superior to any photograph, any adult film he may have caught a glimpse of. Because it was personal. She was devoted to him, and he to her. And she was repeating his name, the syllables strung together and becoming unintelligible. Soon she wailed sharply and stiffened, her pulses gripping his cock. "Fuck me harder," she whined.

His movements stilled. While he wanted to give in, he feared harming her - he was stronger than his skinniness suggested. But she begged for him again, and he couldn't resist pressing her wrists into the bed on either side of the pillow. Their kisses turned hard while she brought her trembling legs about him and he plunged into her. A wanton cry escaped with each inch she moved up the mattress, with every pound of his hips. The sear of her surrounding him was intoxicating, and he took her nipple in his mouth, laving and sucking at it. Her body grew rigid and bent into him and she moaned, her muscles clamping around him a second time.

Their intimacy had traversed the scale from slow to fast, loving to urgent. But Arthur had only been unrelenting with her once. Her enjoyment hadn't been a consideration; she’d been a means to an end that night. And the guilt he'd felt afterward had prompted him to promise himself to not be rough without her explicit permission. Seeing her trust in him in action, feeling it in the embrace of her body, pushed him forward to give into what they both craved.

He threw his head back and fucked her, up on his knees, slipping his grasp from her wrist to entwine her fingers. He held her neck and the side of her face as he mashed their lips together, losing himself in her as he increased the punishing pace of his thrusts. His motions stammered, seeking his climax, going deeper and deeper still.

With one final shove he came, emptying into her with each throb as they clung to each other. His brain was foggy with pleasure, breath ragged and panting. Vaguely, he was aware of her tight hold on his ass, as if she coveted every drop of him. As he came down from his high, the last tendrils of pleasure fading, he squeezed her hand. The kiss he gave her was tender, soft. A stark contrast from how they'd joined moments ago.

Y/N was giving him that dazed grin, the one she usually had after lovemaking. But he felt the need to check. "Did I hurt you?" Averting his eyes, he brushed his knuckles over her collarbone.

She pecked his nose and raked her nails through his hair, her look full of adoration. "You could never hurt me." A giggle bubbled up. "I do need a minute to recover, though." He stayed inside her while he softened, nestling in the crook of her neck. "I'm proud of you," she said.

His eyelids shut and a toothy grin appeared as his heart clenched. "Why?"

"You weren't afraid to ask me. Well, even if you were, you did it, anyway." Her arms wrapped about his torso and she palmed his back. "And you trusted yourself to let go."

He dragged his thumb along the faint stretch marks at her areola. While what she said was accurate, he usually liked it softer. During the periods in which his anger or despondency nearly consumed him, when he thought he might erupt, he was afraid he would lose the ability to be gentle. So far, her love and support had helped bring that tenderness back, even if it took a couple of days. He ached for that to continue. "You know, when I- when I see things that aren't there... I always say the right thing. I'm funny. I know how to do good." He took her hand and placed a kiss to the back of it. "But with you it's real."

Guiding him out and off her, she turned on her side. "Because that's who you are, Mr. Fleck. Don’t forget that. I won’t." She nuzzled his nose. "How else could you have broken through my shield enough to have this ridiculous pillow talk?" He chuckled as she tugged on a curl. "I lost that part of myself for a long time," she sighed. "I'd hate to lose it again."

"I won't let that happen." He pulled her closer, caressing the edge of her garter belt. "Especially if you keep wearing these," he said lowly.

Leaning forward, she pressed her breasts flush to him. "Let's be ridiculous until we're old and gray."

"Mhm." Tears prickled but he blinked them away, managing a wide smile. It was one of her hints that she wanted to be with him forever. He prayed she would accept his proposal next week. "Only if you promise to laugh at my jokes."

Y/N traced his jawline and kissed his dark brows, her gaze shining as she gave her response. "Arthur, I'll laugh with you for the rest of my life."

~~~~~

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