#dark side of dawn; ( ic )

[deciessomnia]

tag dump

Genshin Impact - Primary Muses

🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. lisa minci ⊱ witch of the purple rose 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. kaeya alberich ⊱ frostwind swordsman 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. diluc ragnvindr ⊱ the dark side of dawn 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. tartaglia ⊱ childe / ajax 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. dainsleif ⊱ the twilight sword 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. klee ⊱ fleeting sunlight 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. jean gunnhilder ⊱ dandelion knight 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. barbara pegg ⊱ shining idol 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. zhongli ⊱ vago mundo / morax 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. kamisato ayato ⊱ pillar of fortitude 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. yae miko ⊱ astute amusement 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. baizhu ⊱ beyond mortality 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. al-hatiham ⊱ admonishing instruction 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. kaveh ⊱ empyrean reflector 🕊 𓆪 ㅤ ic. nahida ⊱ psychic of purity

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

[yandere-wishes]

˖ ࣪⊹𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞/𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐜𝐞 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⸸ Yandere! Capitano x reader

༒︎ Summary: He's the ice bearer, the monster sent to snuff out the flames of your homeland. But isn't that just love? To kill with such passion. Wouldn't anything else just be a lie?

🗡Warnings: Yandere behavior, blood, and gore, reader has a pyro vision and wields a claymore

𓌜 author's note: I made some Girlypop Capitano edits to sorta fit the vibe: One & Two

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪⭑ ๋࣭

Do you love me? Or do you love how I make you feel?

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪⭑ ๋࣭

Kachina is lost

She does not emerge from the scared flame

Nor does her ancient name echo across the skies.

Life stills, death looms.

light wanes, darkness reaches.

The glow of the sacred flame burns your eyes.

It's ambers whispering grime truths.

"I volunteer to go, too. You'll need all the help you can get."

Mavuika's flame mane rasps across her shoulders as she shakes her head. Lips taut in thought, sepia brows furled in eccentric fret. You've yet to see this shade of worry painted across your archon's face.

"I can't afford to excuse you, especially now that I fear my powers are dwindling. I need someone to have my back. Besides I'm sure the champians can handle it."

Duty first, that's the oath of the Princesses of Flame. Guard the archon with your life, protect her through any means necessary.

You force your head into a sharp nod.

The chill in the stadium air sends a nervous tang rippling through your spine. You've heard the Wayob speak of this sort of frost before. This all encompassing thing.

His boots grace the stadium floor with all the grace of falling stars. Ethereal armor glows in the soft roar of dancing flames. Icicles in dawn's first light.

The tall figure tilts his armor-clad head up at the archon's perch, with impertinence. You almost swear you hear a chuckle of mockery chime from the inside of his helmet.

"Pyro Archon" he speaks, voice distant and distorted, ice on ice through hail storms. The chill glides across your body again, how can one man be so cold? Shouldn't the cold be a sweet thing? Relief from harsh suns and harsher fires?

"Since the oath made five centuries ago remains unfulfilled, what use is the gnosis in your hands?"

He is all ice. But not the sugar-laced ice cubes that float leisurely in spiced cacao milk. No. He is the harsh verglas only spoken of in hushed tones around grisly campfires. The ice that leaves plains frozen and destroyed. It kills all things warm, all things that breathe.

There is a chill in the air.

It penetrates the skin and nests between the bones.

subconsciously you run your fingers across your neck.

"I challenge you for the gnosis, for the right over Natlan's rules" He shrugs off the heavy cape, the multilayered garment with too much wool and heat.

Strange, strange thing.

It amazes you how he hasn't melted from wearing such stout apparel in such smoldering climate. He tosses it to the side careful to never ripe the precious fabric.

"Fight, or summon your champion"

Your hand rests heavily on Mavuika's shoulder. Eyes transfixed in a silent plea.

The people need their Archon.

Natlan needs its Archon.

Besides this is your duty.

Mavuika nods.

Red eyes never once straying from the intruder.

Vicious sparks flicker across your palm. Like sparking a match across dried bark. You feel the inforno's kiss licking past your skin, weaving into the bone, as your weapon materializes. Your fingers ring across the worn, burnt handle of your loyal armament.

"I shall fight you fatui, for the honor and glory of Natlan and the Pyro Archon."

He watches you through the mask, through the ebony darkness that shields his mysterious visage. He reminds you of how Saurians watch their prey. Weighing each tiny breath, tasting each heartbeat through the air. He looks nothing less than regally monstrous.

Like death, doom, and despair.

You've tasted this before, engraved the bitterness upon your tongue, and honed your body to fight it. He will not take Natlan, he will not condemn your home to his cold.

The weight of your claymore pulls you down. Plunging into hard rock. You watch as he bats the dust with his hand. Gloved and armoured. What is he hiding? You wonder. What man truly needs so many layers? Armor, ice, frost, steel, wool. You long to peel them away, desperate to find something human underneath. Something squishy and worm. You want to feel his heartbeath between your teeth. Drink from his warm blood and relish in the sweet aftertaste. A testament to how you conquered the cold.

You've never seen someone so eager to be hidden in layers up layers.

Snow on ice.

Ice on iron.

"You're awfully young to take on such a big responsibility little girl"

his voice makes you shiver, you can almost taste his ice on your tongue.

Bitter, like barbwire and salt.

"Don't mock me Fatui" You warn, molding your body into a battle stance, knees folded almost kissing the stadium floor, weapon clasped with both hands. Eyes on the target.

Just like Mavuika taught you.

Just like you taught Kachina.

You can feel the heat from your vision coursing through your body, cracking your bones and mingling with marrow. You wait, just one more breath. You use the pyro blessing to project yourself through the air, like an arrow aimed straight for the man made of ice and lies. Swinging your claymore, ready to dent his helmet - and hopefully his head inside-  but he blocks it with his glacier sword. Just a thin dainty thing, capable of quelling your inferno-laced colossus.

Capitano advances, with a flick of his sword he pushes you back. Your heart hammers wildly, someone so skilled so strong, it's almost a shame he can never compete in the pilgrimage. That he can never be on your side.

You use the momentum of his push to frontflip through the foggy air. You land squarely on his wide shoulders, digging your foot into his trapezius muscle, while your knee scrapes his other shoulder for balance. You swing your claymore once more, trying to strike his head off. But to your shock, he parries it with the back of his rime gauntlets.

You keep pushing trying to slice through ice, armor, flesh, anything. Yet everything about this man seems to be made of inviolable steel adorned with everlasting cyro. For a second the metal of his helmet kisses the inside of your thighs. There is no shame in battle, no flirting with the opponent. There are only two bodies entwined until death and defeat. Until one rises and one falls. Still, there's something about the way his black face, regards yours that has a shy blush creeping on the hollows of your cheeks. The man, no this formidable monster is far too close, it's almost as if he's longing for a kiss. You leap back, whispering patronymic blessing to the Archon when your feet meet solid rock once more.

"You fight well little girl, but your attacks are careless, loose. You can not defeat opponents if you can not penetrate their defenses."

He dashes, so quickly you almost think he's flickering between the ground and air. You feel his familiar cold before, you feel the hilt of his sword nestle into your abdomen. He leans forward, helmet sending frostbite through the side of your head "You smell so sweet, like the roses of Snezhnaya". Capitan thrusts his sword with raw force sending you soaring into the stadium walls, the rocks crumple around you, as you struggle to lift yourself up once more.

Your eyes try to carve sight through dust and debris. The air is thick, hot and cold. You blink twice desperate for your eyes to focus. There are silhouettes dancing towards you twirling through the air like Yumkasaurus.

Capitano's ice projectiles glide through the air, they're almost beautiful if you could doubt their lethality. He commands them with flickers of his wrist, and it's only when their frost kisses your body that you fully remember this is a battle, not a dance. They lounge themselves between your ribs, underneath your heart, in the plump of your thigh, the bullseye of your shoulder. Pretty icicles cut open your flesh burying themselves deeply inside you, you'd almost dub it romantic, with how the icicles intonate to your erratic heartbeat.

The frost begins to infiltrate your vascular flow, cauterizing you from the inside. Spreading through the outside, you hiccup out a low moan. Capitano laughs, in a tone that feigns mockery. "I see my ice is to your liking". You bite your lip holding back another moan, it's so wholly painful yet so satisfying. You were right the cold does offer such a delicious relief from the blazing inferno all around.

Your opponent stalks closer, kneeling by your freezing body. You doubt Muarvirka can see through the grey air permutating the stadium. Maybe that's why, away from all prying eyes. The captain lifts his helmet revealing smirking lips. He grazes the side of your mouth with a faux kiss. savoring your warmth before, parting your lips, and deepening the kiss. Even his lips are utterly frozen, he sucks you flames from your mouth extinguishing your fires, with blood-deep frost. He runs a cold iron-clad claw across her cheek, scrapping up the skin, creating a rivulet of red. Before licking it lovingly with his icy tongue. "Why are you so cold?" you shutter, "Why so frostbitten? Has no one ever taught you the joys of the flame?"

He laughs, really really laughs this time. And while you still can't see his eyes, you swear they soften. "I've been burnt too many times, trust me the cold has its merits. But one must be willing to surrender to them."

Capitano plucks your body from the ground. He cradles you roughly in his arms.

He has no warmth to offer.

No heat.

He is only ice.

The fog yields, as you look up. Mavuika screams, her anger palpable. "I'll accept her as my prize for now archon" Capitano spits. "But next time I shall challenge you and know that I will take the gnosis too."

The flames in the stadium roar, trying to melt away the frost plaguing your body. Trying to replenish your spark. You begin to flail and kick, desperate to be liberated from Capitano's iron and frost-clad grasp.

You need to break free, to return to your archon's side, to be there when the others return with Kachina. You can not let this monster pilfer you away from your home, your people, your archone.

"Let me go!" you scream, your last attempt at a battle cry.

"Shhh, war trophies have no right to refuse."

⋆⋆⋆༺𓆩⸸𓆪༻⋆⋆⋆

Super tempted to draw the reader's outfit!!

🪐 @definitely-asexual-volcano @eth3realc0rps3  @numberonefanfury  @madara3437 @crystalkat6747 @m00nlight-mexican @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @orcasandtea @tecchoukisserr

[xxyumeno]

talk about kaeya, diluc, especially in his cat form!

" . . . " is he required to answer this? He really does not wish to entertain this Masked Figure with an answer.

" Tolerable at best. "

anonymous &&. Send a character to my ask box and my Muse will talk about their relationship with them. // not accepting

[koriangguk]

✧ vegas temptation

✧ synopsis: Falling victim to yet another failed situationship, you're consumed by dread. Maybe love is something you aren't destined to experience in this lifetime? Or maybe you just need a little getaway and a friend who'll accompany the series of impulsive decisions this would entail. Thankfully, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?

✧ genre: fake dating au, heavy on smut with a sprinkle of angst

✧warnings: cream play, nipple play, hickeys, different positions, protected/unprotected sex, public nudity (?), tongue-fuck, fingering, denied orgasm, overstimulation, ice play, vibrator play, rope play, candle burns (?) ✧recommended artists: Chase Atlantic, The Weeknd, Daniel Di Angelo, Doja Cat

Everyone knows heartbreak is a pain in the ass, but an intriguing one at that.

It pulls on your heartstrings and fuels the desperate longing to feel whole again. Releasing a tide of emotions that follow suit as your consciousness drowns under the shattering pieces of broken promises, white lies and everything in between. 

But, nothing compares to the ego that awakens within you as you enter a phase of recovery, embarking on the infamous villain arc. One that is flamed with rage and hunger for revenge. 

Because, let's be honest, a good heart can only take you so far until everything comes crashing down again. Before you are back at square one, like clockwork, slaving after hours just to receive the bare minimum. 

So, fuck that and fuck Kim Jaewon. Stupid cunt. 

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Jungkook and his Black Amex you wouldn’t even bother brushing your hair, let alone worry about which lacey lingerie you should pack for a week in Vegas. 

The Entertainment Capital of the World. 

Well, it certainly would be entertaining to put two best friends into a couple’s suite and hope that nothing happens. But, as Jungkook’s dilated pupils watched you swallow your feelings with another shot of tequila it didn’t really seem like he was the one betting on that deal. Quite the opposite actually. 

“Honestly, screw him, y/n.” he muttered, running his fingers through those dark locks as the two of you waited for your flight at the boujee business lounge. 

In contrast to his trust fund upbringing, you felt like the biggest elephant in the room venturing into the wrong tax bracket. So, the potential side effects of the alcohol running down your esophagus were primarily to calm the nerves of sticking out like a sore thumb, and only slightly to forget your ex. 

“Have you been listening at all? I kind of already did.” your lips pursed in annoyance, words barely stringing together. 

You weren't annoyed at Jungkook, per se, more so at yourself for letting it get this far. For intoxicating your system at the crack of dawn, as at least twenty pairs of eyes watched the two of you bicker. But, come on, surely it was 5 pm somewhere. Listen, when everything is already going wrong, how damaging could another bad decision be? Especially, in the form of a liquid. So, please, everyone keep your judgement to yourself. 

“Well, then that might just be the problem.” 

“Huh?” your gaze furrowed, brows knitted with confusion. 

“You’re fucking the wrong guys, y/n.” Jungkook whispered with a sly grin. 

“Right. And you, I’m assuming would have been my Mr. Right, of course.” you scoffed, jabbing your finger into his chest before looking back up at his heavy gaze. 

“Give me a week and we'll see.” he teased, using his foot to pull on your chair, bringing your tipsy form closer until inches were separating your parted lips from his. 

Playful would have been the best word to describe your relationship with Jungkook. You never crossed the line between friends and lovers but were in very close proximity to doing so. So, when you poured your heart out, crying on his shoulder the night Jaewon’s cheating scandal broke out like wildfire, a part of Jungkook was pleased by the news despite how selfish it might have looked. 

Simply put, he was never a fan of your boyfriends. How could he be when the mere sight of another man beside you triggered every cell in his body, charging a visceral reaction that was forced to be suppressed, kept on the low because you were never his to be territorial of. 

Never his to be taken care of. To be loved. Oh, if only you knew how badly he wanted it. How badly he wanted you. 

Only, you did know. Because, like a sickening aftertaste, the tension between the two of you always lingered. But he kept his distance, and you played on with the denial. Praying for each other’s downfall, you hoped that the other would finally cave in, and say the three words that would change the trajectory of your relationship forever. 

But, as time went on, his fetish for your love only grew stronger and an innocent crush matured into a craving. One that could no longer be suppressed no matter how much you tried to push it away. To push him away. 

Jaewon was your last straw. The breaking point that made you question whether you were destined to be loved in this lifetime. And although he caused you pain, you didn’t know if you should thank your ex or curse his whole bloodline, because now that he was gone there was no point in denying that Jungkook and you were more than just friends. 

Lathering the shea butter on your damp skin, your vision was hazy, body seemingly recovering from the hot shower. But, after that 15-hour flight surrounded by multiple throw-ups and diaper changes, a scrub-down was a must. So, there you were standing in front of the full-sized mirror in the pink pyjama set your mom gifted you specifically for this trip. Whatever that meant.  

See, Jungkook had a way with words. It was his charm. His sensual demeanour could have an innocent bystander wrapped around his finger with one plea. A practical skill that most likely fueled your mother’s spending on the silk fabric, but one that you have yet to fall victim to. 

His mind games were strong, but your stubbornness was stronger. He didn’t mind, actually, kind of adored it. The dominant side of you, the way you could shut him up with one glare. It made loving you so much more thrilling, worth fighting for every sigh, every eye roll, every sneer. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” you blurted at the man's reflection as his palms rested on the top of the doorframe, darkened orbs bluntly eying your body from top to bottom. 

“Like what?” Jungkook grinned, nibbling on his lip rings.

“Like you want something.” you whispered with a furrowed gaze, spraying some leave-in conditioner into your detangled hair. 

“Hmm … but, I do want something.” he teased, inching closer before you felt his bare chest hit your back, veiny hands holding onto your waist. 

“I bet. I made rules you know? In case you thought I’d give in so easily.” you murmured, turning to face him as your fingers slightly tugged on the towel wrapped around his hips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckled softly, eyes flickering down to your plump lips. 

“Mhhm,” you nodded, feeling his hands slowly travel up your top as your own intertwined behind his neck. 

“Did I break any already?” he rasped into your ear, teeth grazing against the soft skin. 

Your mouth curled into a mischievous sneer as you whispered, “Just one.” 

However, before he could respond, your fist was already gripping the chains on his neck, gently pulling him toward the king-sized bed that was covered in rose petals and a complimentary note from the hotel. 

Happy honeymoon, lovebirds!

Loosening his towel, Jungkook watched as you straddled his lap, pressing your hands onto his chest before innocently glancing up at his parted lips. You could have sworn a drool dripped down his mouth, but it might’ve just been your ego flying through the roof as you felt his racing heartbeat.   

“May I?” you teased, slowly rocking your hips against the friction beneath you. 

“By all means, love.” he purred, tracing his hands back onto your thighs before flinching at your sudden slap. 

“Hands off, Jeon. Rule number one.” you giggled at the sudden change in his demeanour. The way his furrowed gaze searched for the audacity that could’ve potentially justified the words that came out of your mouth. 

“You’re fucking with me, right?” he groaned, jerking his head back. 

“No?” a small pout worked its way over your innocent face, eyes fluttering. 

“Baby, please.” 

Was he begging? Or were your knees buckling from the fatigue? Whatever. Keep focus, y/n. 

“I warned you, Koo.” you winked, brushing your lips over his before a knock on the door interrupted the little moment. 

“Room service!” a man’s voice echoed from the corridor. 

I guess the sight of Jungkook’s sculpted chest completely hazed your mind as you struggled to recover even the slightest recollection of ordering food. 

“Coming!” you yelled out, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose until his hold on your waist tightened. 

“No, stay.” he murmured, voice laced with desperation. 

“I have to open the door, Jeon, that's kind of how it works.” 

“I like you here.” he grinned, tugging on your bottom lip before leaving a soft spank on your ass. And, as you glanced back at his heaving chest you feared that rule number one was going to be short-lived. 

“Do you like it? They didn’t have Carbonara but I thought shrimp fettuccine would have sufficed,” you said with slight hesitation which shortly dissipated as you watched him empty the dish clean.  

“Trust me, y/n. You being here has already made me a happy man. Everything else is just a cherry on top.” Jungkook smiled, rubbing his tattooed hand along his jaw before reaching for the last plate cover.

“Honestly, I wanted to thank y-,” your words were interrupted by his sudden whine. 

“No dessert?” his brow arched slightly. 

“Oh. Shoot, sorry. I … I didn’t think you’d want any.” your words came out as a stutter, eyes frantically searching for the phone. 

“Mhmm, but I would kill for some cheesecake.” he sighed with a pout, loosening the buttons on his shirt. 

Changing out of the cotton fabric that covered his cucumber-scented body roughly five minutes ago, Jungkook decided to parade the same pyjama set as you. And, now that the two of you were matching, it was clear what your mom’s mission was all along. 

“Yeah, okay, let me just call them b-” 

“No need.” 

“Huh? So, you don’t want dessert?” 

“I do.” he teased, keeping his voice low and calm. 

“Okay, let’s cut back on the riddles, Jeon. Do I call or not?”

But, there was no answer. Instead, he simply excused himself from the table before walking towards the red couch, patting the seat next to him. 

“Come here, y/n.” his voice lowered to a rumble, darkened orbs filled with nothing but lust. 

“Why?”

“If I can’t touch you let me at least taste you.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. Hands fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“I beg your finest pardon?” you scoffed from pure disbelief, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Baby, you have at max three seconds to walk your fine self over here before I grab you myself.” 

“Was that a threat?” you glared at his sly expression, hooded gaze colliding with yours. 

“One …” his tone demanded a response. 

But, you didn’t move. Not even an inch. Aggravating the tension. 

“Two …” 

Who does he think he is? Grab you myself. Claw machine sounding ass. 

“Three …” 

You chuckled, giving him the nastiest eye roll before your muscles tensed up, seeing his 5’8 gym rat physique actually get up. 

“Okay! Alright! I’m coming.” you blurted in sheer panic, fixing your bottoms before doing the walk of shame toward his pleased self. 

Reaching out his hand, you pushed it away, reminding him of the deal. 

“Right here, love.” Jungkook grinned, marking his chest as a target for your landing. 

What a tease. 

“You know what, Koo. Fine. If you want to play games, let’s play a game.” you hissed with a wink, stripping out of the silk fabric before dropping it on his lap.  

“Fucking hell.” a growl escaped his parted lips as his eyes raked over your glistening skin, admiring every inch, every crevice of your body. 

He was needy, but you were too busy rummaging through the mini-fridge to notice how desperately he longed for your attention. 

“Perfect!” you exclaimed, shaking a bottle of whipped cream before straddling his lap once again. Except this time, in your black lingerie. One that was initially reserved for Jaewon’s eyes only until he decided to fuck you over. Now, the privilege was all Jungkook’s. 

“Y/n.” he breathed out heavily, creased forehead resting on yours. 

And, as you pressed your thumb against his chin, your index finger slid along his bottom lip, feeling his tongue lick the cream off your skin. 

“Just like that, baby.” you gave him a tiny nod of reassurance, glancing up at his doe-eyed gaze. 

Fuck, submissiveness never looked this good. 

“Y/n, please.” he whimpered, hands hovering over your skin before you finally gave in, intertwining your fingers with his. 

Unclasping your bra, you let his veiny hands rest on your perky breasts, decorating your hardened nipples with his special treat. 

“Taste me,” you purred, tugging on his bottom lip as his mouth opened in a half-moan. 

He was wasted. Big time. 

“You sure?” he had to double-check, searching your lustful gaze for approval. 

“I am. Enjoy your dessert, Jeon.” the words simply rolled off your tongue, like you’ve been meaning to say them all along. And, as you ran your fingers through his messy hair, slightly tugging on the ends, the built-up need within you slowly inched up, begging for his touch. 

Cupping your breasts in his burning palms, he peppered your skin with sloppy kisses, teeth grazing against the pinks of your sensitive nipples before biting down on the flesh. 

“Fuck” you hissed with your head jerked back. 

Sucking off the creamy delight that painted your swollen tits, his pierced tongue licked its way up to your parted mouth, marking your neck with purple hues of possession. 

“Koo,” you rasped against his ear, shamelessly rocking your hips back and forth as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“I know, baby.” he muttered, gently lifting your frail body before pinning it against the armrest of the red couch. 

Giving a little shake to the whipping cream that dropped from your hands, Jungkook levelled his face to yours, drawing a line down your stomach. And, as he watched you arch your back from the cold sensation, a spark of temptation danced in his darkened eyes, cheeks flushed from the sinful whimpers that escaped your parted lips until the warmth of his tongue eased the pain. 

Moving down the center line, his fingertips traced your ribs, a faint outline of which poked with each breath you took. In and out, your diaphragm was working overtime, trying to keep up with the suffocating demand. One that only fueled Jungkook’s cravings, as he tugged onto the black lace of your lingerie. 

“Compliments to the chef,” he whispered teasingly, gaze softening at the arousal that had your panties all drenched. 

“Jeon, stop staring, this is so embarrassing.” you whined, voice muffled by the pillow that covered your rosy cheeks as you desperately attempted to close your legs and simply vanish. 

“It’s not my fault someone forgot to order dessert.” he grinned, pulling you closer as his hold on your thighs tightened, before hooking your ankles over his bare shoulders. “Now, please. Let a man eat.”

Admiring your sleeping features, Jungkook cuddled into your chest, planting soft kisses on your marked neck before dozing off inside your arms until the buzzing of your phone startled him right out of REM. 

No Caller ID

“Y/n?” a man’s hesitant voice echoed in his ear. 

“She’s sleeping.” Jungkook muttered, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb. 

“Who is this? Jungkook, is that you?” Jaewon exclaimed, evidently more on edge than before. 

“What do you want?” 

“Can I talk to, y/n?” 

“As I just said, she’s sleeping.” Jungkook’s tone was low, aggravated by the need to repeat himself.

“Well, can you wake her up?” 

“She seemed quite worn out after the fifth round, so I probably shouldn’t.” a grin curled his lips as you rested your head on his heaving chest, completely naive to the unfolded event. 

“What?” 

“Lose the number, Jaewon.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, ending the call before tossing your phone on the edge of the bed. 

Feeling the warmth of the sun rays peeking through the silk curtains, you stretched your sore body, patting the mattress next to you before noticing Jungkook’s absence. 

“Mmhm?” you pouted, reaching for your phone to check the time. 

There’s no way you slept through breakfast and he didn’t wake you. Based on your history of ‘hangryness’ and emotional breakdowns that followed suit he should know better. 

7:45 am 

“Jungkook?” you called out, covering yourself with the sheer nightgown before knocking on the bathroom door, waiting for a response. 

Nothing. 

“Jeon?” you called again, this time scanning the living room. Everything looked frozen in time, left untouched from the night before — the empty bottle of wine and the stained glass marked with your red lipstick. But still, no trace of Jungkook.

Going back into the bedroom, you quickly brushed your teeth and changed into a baby blue sundress, opening up the blinds to let in the natural light.

“Shit!” you yelped, widened eyes staring at Jungkook’s sculpted back. 

Sliding the door just enough to pass by, you felt the goosebumps spread across your body as the morning breeze danced around your bare skin. 

“Oh, I thought you quit.” you gasped, brows knitted with confusion as you looked over his broad shoulders, the smell of cigarettes lingering between you two. 

“Yeah, well, I thought you cut ties with Jaewon. So … I guess we’re both disappointed.” Jungkook exhaled sharply, turning his head halfway to take in another puff. 

Something was off, he seemed distant, cold to the touch. 

“What? What are you talking about?” you asked, hands fidgeting with the straps of your dress. 

“He called last night.” 

“Why? Is he okay?” 

And, that’s when he erupted. Back pressed against the railing, his body turned to face your timid form, before muttering, “Do you care?”

“Well, no? But … if we stopped talking and you suddenly called I would want to know why,” you hesitated with the explanation, analyzing the way his forehead creased with each word.  

“Mmhm, except I never treated you like a scrumbag, did I?” Jungkook swallowed, rubbing his tattooed hand along his flexed jaw. 

“True, but you never pursued me either.” you snapped back, arms crossed over your burning chest. 

“This is a prank, isn’t it?” he scoffed maniacally, eyes twitching from disbelief. 

“I’m dead serious, Jeon. Why did you keep your distance if you wanted me so badly?”

He didn’t answer. Letting the two of you stare at each other for a split second, before finally taking a step forward, following your pace as your back hit the glass door. Leaning his hands on either side of your head, his broad shoulders hovered over you.

If this was his attempt at scaring you or somehow making you feel beneath him, it was not working. Because, as his face levelled with yours, your gaze furrowed, never breaking eye contact. Standing firm on what you said. 

“Y/n, I kept my distance because I wanted you so bad.” 

“Kind of dumb, don’t you think?” you pouted with a slight head tilt. 

By now, Jungkook was ready to combust. The adrenaline running through his veins prepared to set off his fight or flight response at any given moment. 

“Okay. Fine. How about I pursue myself into your ass, hmm?” he growled, tone demanding a response. 

“I'd looove to see you try.” you teased, eyes fluttering with innocence. 

“On the bed.” 

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, tongue poking the side of your cheek. 

“You heard me. Chop chop, baby girl.” Jungkook rasped against your ear, nibbling on the soft skin as a final warning. 

To be honest you really didn’t know what you were getting yourself into until his fingers ran down your spine, hands tightening their hold on your hips as his growing boner pressed against the arch of your ass. 

Fuck, he was serious. 

“From now on, I’ll be so close you’d have to scrub my scent off you,” he sneered, gently sliding his two digits over your folds, fingertips coated with your wetness as you remained on all fours. 

“Koo,” you whimpered, tugging on your bottom lip.

Parting your throbbing cunt, his pierced tongue licked your clit, thumb rubbing it in small circles before your moans grew louder. More desperate. More needy. Hazy mind unable to fathom the calmness you radiated just a few minutes ago. 

“Hold on.” he whispered, reaching for his wallet to grab a strip of condoms before ripping one open with his gritted teeth. 

“Tell me if this is dumb enough for you.” Jungkook teased, mouth sliding along your tensed jaw as he rubbed his erection against your clit, resisting the urge to fill you up right then and there. 

It was clear that your words irked him but he had to remain calm enough to not hurt you, forcing his annoyance to cool off with a verbal mock. 

And, as he slowly pushed himself in, whimpers escaped your parted lips, hands gathering up the white sheets into knots, feeling his cock stretch its way in against the warmth of your walls. Cautious of his pace, he needed you to adjust, pulling in and out until there was enough lubrication for the growing friction to feel good, painless.

“Koo,” you whined again, gasping for air as his lips left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your back. 

“Just like that, baby. You’re doing so good.” Jungkook reassured, softening his hooded gaze upon hearing your sweet sounds. The ones that poisoned his thoughts and invaded his dreams all those countless nights. 

Clenching your clit on his throbbing length, his vision grew in and out of focus, hissing at the tingling sensation. 

“Fuuuck, y/n.” he moaned, fingers digging into your ass, before jerking his head back. 

Picking up his pace, Jungkook went faster and harder. Slamming himself into you, until his twitching tip touched the surface of your cervix, making your toes curl in ecstasy, as a trail of juices ran down your trembling thighs. 

“Jeon, I'm gonna faint.” you cried out, feeling your throat tighten, lungs stripped away from air.

“Just a little longer, baby.” he muttered, chest heaving up from exhaustion. 

He was close. Very close. So, as your walls clenched around him for the sixth time, he could have sworn his dick melted. Became part of your anatomy, no longer attached to his person. Surrendered with a white flag. 

“Y/n, look at me.” he urged breathlessly, snapping the rubber off his sensitive dick before giving it a few more pumps, squirting his cum onto your displayed tongue, completely exasperating in the process.  

“So,” you swallowed obediently, “now that you've pursued my ass you'll quit smoking, right?” your doe-eyed gaze glanced up at his darkened orbs that watched you lick the dripping cum off his tip as you sat on your knees. Aware of his response, you brushed your lips against his, inviting his tongue inside before his burning body collided with yours, smiling into the deep kiss. 

“Well, technically, I didn't go near your ass. Not many girls like that.” Jungkook teased, tucking a few curls behind your ear.  

“Many girls, huh? How many?” you murmured, tracing the tattoos on his arm as your bodies laid skin to skin, staring at the white ceiling. 

“About five.” he answered, a bit too quickly for your liking. 

“Five? You man whore.” you scoffed with disgust, quickly retracting your hand from his. 

“Sometimes six, depending on which video loads first.” his nose scrunched in a tiny giggle once he saw your mouth drop, expression left dumbfounded as the dots in your head began to connect. 

So, that's what kept him busy all this time. Porn? Phenomenal. 

“Next time, I'll just stay curious.” you sighed, half disappointed yet, also relieved. He might’ve just lied straight to your face but sometimes, it's better to simply pick your battles, choosing to live in blissful ignorance than the chaos of reality. Whatever his reality entails.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

xx ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Not a Lot, Just Forever

Series mlist

Tags — possibly offensive humour, my heart hurts as I’m writing this omg it’s over

Words — 1.6k

“You dick!” you squealed, giggling as you haphazardly launched a pillow at your boyfriend. He simply ducked out of the way, the action simple yet all the more irritating. Of course you were mildly annoyed that he’d assassinated your stuffed animal, but the concept of it all was just too amusing to be overrun by anger.

He scoffed and looked away, though the pink tint to his cheeks betrayed him. He was embarrassed, flustered even. He’d gotten so envious of a mere stuffed bear that in a moment of carefully concealed weakness, he’d chucked it into the bushes. Of course this couldn’t have just gone smoothly as he hoped it would, Yuji just had to be walking past your building at the perfect moment to see the little white blur traverse the area from your window to the greenery below.

You whined, moving the very few paces it took to be beside him. You leaned against him, mumbling under your breath about how cruel he was, but to him it was nothing but a string of unintelligible noise.

“You’re so mean, megs. What did he ever do to you?”

He stole my girlfriend, for starters, he thought. It was stupid and childish, that much he knew, but the information did little to help. His eyes would catch on you as you cradled the thing, its plush form crumbling beneath the force of your arms. It seemed to take up everywhere he should’ve been, as much as he’d loathe to admit it. Your lap, where on sunnier days he’d find himself lying, your fingers nimbly combing through his hair as you talked about everything and nothing. Your chest, where after long moments of him awkwardly shuffling towards you, you’d tug him down and let him rest there. Beside you, as he lied in the cold sheets and eyed your back, craving the warmth that the inanimate object had been thieving.

This realization had dawned on you the moment you learned of his precise action, and was probably the sole reason you hadn’t torn him apart. He was lucky it wasn’t a sentimental item, you held on to those much more dearly; but he knew that. He wouldn’t even dare to do such a thing, would barely think about it. He knew better.

It was a few more moments of grumbling and dramatic sighs met with flustered silence from Megumi when you pulled away, leaving him feeling awfully chilly. Your form hitting the bed forced a soft creak from the mattress, the springs aching as they thawed with the passing spring. The snow and ice had melted away, spots of colour and life beginning to spring up and cover the dull, grassy expanses. Shades of red and yellow bloomed all around, warmth returning to the plants as well as your eyes. He always preferred winter, but he was beginning to love spring far more; for your eyes never shone as bright as they did when they were set on the seasons first flower. Brighter than the sun itself, maybe. He couldn’t tell the difference all that well, his eyes didn’t bother peeling from you often. It was pointless, the both of you knew they’d only return soon after.

You let your cheek squish up against the softness of his pillow, a long deep breath exiting you. The pitch dark bliss of your closed eyes was a peaceful break, a moment away from the light and the chaos, just you and the scent of him on his bedding. It felt a little creepy, but you were far past the point of caring when it came to loving him too much.

Feeling the bed dip beside you, you shuffled to the side, giving the boy room to lie beside you. The subtle warmth radiating from him pressed against you, your skin growing less frigid and more comfortable.

Shifting to your side, you wish you were surprised to find that he was already looking at you. Those deep, sea-glass eyes boring into you with the loving intensity of a thousand suns.

You weren’t allowing the overlooking of the plushie incident, though. You pouted, though he could see the amused mischief lingering in your eyes. “Who am I supposed to sleep with, now?”

He gave you a look as if to say ‘are you fucking kidding me right now’, eyes narrowing just a fraction. You let out a low, soft chuckle, inching closer to him. The annoyance fell from his face, replaced by intent.

“Oh yeah…” you mumbled, and then his lips met yours.

Over the short time of the past few months, his kisses had grown softer. Like instead of trying to make up for lost time, he had all the time in the world. He had until your hair grew grey and your body slowed, grateful for the time it had spent loving him, and now giving that energy back to the earth that had blessed you with it. He kissed you like he would until his last breath, and he damn sure planned to. He didn’t mind how or when, he just knew that when the light left his eyes, he wanted the imprint of your face to be burned into them, forever marking him with your beauty. He was sure that any pathologist that carved him open and dared to reach for his heart would find your name engraved, his lungs filled with the petals of your favourite flower.

He kissed you with a gentle sort of passion, a hand cupping your jaw and the other tucked beneath his head. You pressed back with equal tenderness, your entire being feeling smothered by him. He enveloped every part of you, from your taste to your smell to every cell in your brain. The taste of your chapstick was sweet on his tongue as it dragged over your lower lip, and he suppressed the hum that itched to fall from his mouth. He knew you, he knew you didn’t bother using flavoured products on normal days. It was just for him. Peach had never stuck out to him, but the moment the tang of it came over his senses, he’d decided it was the best fruit.

He shifted, using his free arm to prop himself up, hovering over you and only letting your lips part for a moments breath.

Much to his dismay, your attention was quickly drawn away. Something cold and metallic brushed over your exposed neckline, hair on the back of your neck becoming prickly from the chill. You opened your eyes and caught the shine of the material, sunlight bouncing off of it. The two of you seemed to come to the realization at the same time, because his eyes widened and he made a sudden attempt to conceal it. Your curiosity had been heightened by then, though, it would nag at you if you didn’t just reveal it to yourself now.

Your hand took hold of it before his could, and it was easy to recognize what was in your grasp. A thin chain dangling from his neck, a silver ring hung on it like a pendant. At first you thought it was just some jewelry, maybe a family heirloom. Megumi didn’t mind accessorizing, after all, he did have a decent lineup of holes pierced in his skin. Then, you realized.

You realized why his face heated up, why he seemed almost nervous as you observed the object. You’d gifted him this—so long ago that you hadn’t even recognized it at first glance.

“Is this…?” you asked, hesitant, just in case you were hallucinating.

“…yeah,” he nodded, face still only inches away from your face. You could see the small details on his face from here. Every individual, ridiculously long eyelash, every speck of blue and green littering his irises, the soft rose that had brushed over the bridge of his nose as he realized his secret had been found out.

“Megumi,” you breathed, slightly astonished but so in love. “I gifted this to you in middle school.”

“You did.”

He paused, a subtle grin quirking his mouth. “Doesn’t fit anymore.”

You almost laughed. What was an awkward, quiet boy who kept everyone at arms length had also become your Megumi. Still quiet, but the tension in his shoulder eased and his breathing even as he snuggled against your skin. Because he wasn’t afraid, not anymore. He was sarcastic and sassy at times, but those were the moments you relished in most, because that wall of seriousness had been chipped away to reveal what he really was: a boy. He couldn’t even legally drink yet, he deserved the freedom and bliss that was love; that was you.

“You’re insane,” you rolled your eyes, playful affection dawning over your features.

“Mm,” he seemed to mull it over for a moment. “Maybe. But from what I hear, you like them that way.” He let his head fall to the crook of your neck, and even if you hadn’t felt it against your skin, you could feel his smirk from a mile away.

Not long ago, Megumi had thought you were parallel, doomed to an eternity of short distance and the longing for touch. He realized how stupid that was, utterly idiotic. How stupid had he been to not understand that yes, you were always moving in the same direction, always catching the other’s eye over a sea of people. But that wasn’t because of paralleling, no. It was because you were one, one being, one life, one line. He made sure of it, and he made sure that it would stay that way in this life and every next one.

Taglist !¡ —

@1l-ynn @meowymeowbreow @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @gumims @good-mourning0 @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123 @idkidk32 @dazaisfavgf @tlissablr @vi0let-writes @walllflowerrrsss @sh0ot1ngst4r @blubearxy @tvnamayo @san-it-is-i-guess @harryzcherry @vivienne-jo @anotherwriternamedclara @adoresia

will you laugh at me if I say I cried ITS OVER. WHAT THE FUCK also I’m writing this on 10/27 so I’m experiencing the grief long before you feel bad for me IM GONNA KMS IM GONNA MISS BTTOH SO BAD on a real note tho this was my first fic and I appreciate the love it’s gotten sosososo much, especially considering these are all a little rushed and silly :((( I wasn’t expecting this ilysm ew im getting sappy anyway… got some fics coming… then Inumaki smau… and then I think imma do another Megumi smau… oops i just can’t leave that boy alone ig…!!!!!!! (Motorcycle megumi watch out imma pounce on u) wow I’m never serious am I. AAANNNYYWAYYYYY maybe epilogue/bonus chaps later when I’m bored and feel like it :) if ur on the taglist you’ll see (don’t expect anything tho… prolly won’t be for a hot minute…) okay that’s yn and megumi signing off. Goodbye. I love u.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ one day ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) accidentally distracts Jack while he’s being interviewed in their home for a day in the life of a Devils player documentary that's being filmed, and Jack brings up the idea of a proposal

warning(s) : a quick mention of suggestive content but no actual sex

author’s note : i don’t understand how this plot came to be and tbh it's kinda stupid but i’m taking it and running with it

༺═──────────────═༻

Jack being one of NHL's most popular players has it's pros and cons. Today is one of those cons that they both hate. Jack is being followed around for the day to film a Devils documentary that follows players during their off days. Jack being one of the Devils' star players means he had to do the documentary.

That was before (Y/N) talked him into it. She didn't realize how intense it would all be. An entire film crew has set up in their living room with big cameras and lighting. They have made themselves very much at home after knocking on their door at the crack of dawn.

The two of them were having a really good morning in bed together when the film crew came knocking. Lots of naked cuddles and kisses were exchanged when a knock rang out through their apartment. It ruined both of their moods.

They stand in their kitchen and watch the crew finish setting up from the island counter. Jack is now dressed in a dark grey Devils hockey t-shirt with black sweatpants that have a Devils logo on the pant leg.

"Do you want me in this?" (Y/N) questions. Jack looks over at her with a confused look on his face. "I mean, we've been mostly quiet about our relationship so I completely understand if you don't want me to be apart of your episode of the documentary."

Jack shakes his head as soon as the words pass her lips. "No, I want you in this, (Y/N)," he tells her. "It's a documentary about a day in my life and you're a really big part of my life so of course I want you in this. Just let me do the interview really quick then we can act like it's a normal day."

The woman doing the interview is one of the Devils reporters, but (Y/N) can't remember her name at the moment. She sits opposite Jack in the comfy chair. The camera over her shoulder is pointed at Jack.

While Jack is being interviewed, (Y/N) goes to her room to get ready for their insane day ahead. She needs to put on some actual clothes too. All she's been wearing since she got out of bed is one of Jack's t-shirts and a pair of really small shorts. Not exactly what she wants to be wearing if she's going to be followed around for most of the day by people that work for the Devils.

She can hear some of the questions being asked while she's getting changed. They're the usual questions. Asking about how the season is going for him, how he's been recovering from that shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for a handful of games, and how it's been having his brother on the team with him. Sometimes Jack's sassy side comes out. He's never been the one to hide how he's feeling when answering questions.

To mess with Jack a little bit, and to kind of surprise him when he's done with the interview, (Y/N) grabs Jack's Devils hoodie that he wears to practice sometimes. His number sits on her chest and it's a little too big. She pairs the black hoodie with a pair of jeans that are ripped at the knee. She throws her hair up into a high ponytail and puts on light makeup just to cover any blemishes or pimples that'll pop out on camera.

When she leaves their bedroom, Jack is talking about how amazing it is to be considered one of the league's best players.

"It's always the goal to be one of the best in whatever sport you play," Jack is saying as she walks through the living room. "I, um, didn't think it would happen, uh, so early on in my, um, career." (Y/N) looks over and sees that Jack has his eyes on her. "Sorry. Got distracted." There's a smile on his face when he sees what she's wearing.

The reporter turns and looks at (Y/N). "I didn't know your girlfriend lived with you, Jack," she says as she turns back to him. (Y/N) smiles and starts to make some coffee.

"One of the best decisions I have ever made," Jack says from the living room. "Getting to fall asleep with her in my arms and waking up with her wrapped around me is an honor. We've been together for over two years now and it's been incredible. My parents and brothers all love her, but not nearly as much as I do."

(Y/N) smiles to herself as the coffee brews. Her back is to him at the moment so he can't see the smile.

The way Jack talks about her sometimes makes her fall in love with him a little more. She talks about him like that all the time to friends and family, but knowing he's saying all of this in front of a camera for a documentary makes what he'[s saying a little more special. He isn't holding back because he's on camera.

"That's so cute," the interviewer says. "Could we be expecting a Jack Hughes proposal soon?"

"We'll see what happens," Jack replies. That causes her to spin around immediately and look at Jack. The smile that was on his face is still there as their eyes meet from two different rooms. Her smile grows bigger.

They've never talked about marriage. Both of them are very happy with where they are at in their relationship so they both not rushing to walk down the aisle. Plus, they're 21 and 22 respectively so they're still really young. They don't have to get married right now.

The interview goes by without another mention of marriage, or (Y/N). She's okay with that because this is about Jack and his accomplishments as NHL's rising star. He's come a long way since his rookie year.

(Y/N) was around that year but they weren't together. They were close friends at that point so she saw every day how Jack struggled his rookie year. He struggled with hockey and he struggled with what people were saying about him online. Calling him a NHL bust despite being drafted first overall.

They grew closer that year and it was during his sophomore season when they got together. She's been super supportive of him since he got drafted, but especially after his rookie year.

Jack quickly excuses himself before he gets mic'd up for the rest of the day. She's pouring coffee into two mugs for both of them when Jack comes up behind her and wraps his arms around his girlfriend.

"I know we never talked about it but-"

"Yes, I'd like to get married to you one day, Jack," (Y/N) interrupts as she turns in his arms. He presses her against the counter with one hand and takes his hot coffee in his other. "We don't have to rush into anything though. I'm happy with where we are and you're still trying to prove yourself in the NHL."

"So one day?" he asks.

She leans forward and kisses him softly and quickly. "One day."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

To Love You

Pairing | wanted!Jimin x princess!Reader

Word Count | 16,1k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, Jimin is a wanted outlaw, mention of dead parents and conspiracy, the new king is a slimy being, mention of hatred, painful feelings and abandonment, many tears, Jimin is allergic to romantic feelings 💀, murders (sword, poison, torture…), attempted rape, lots of kissing and touching, breast worship, love marks, talks about having a baby, impregnation kink, sex in the woods, virginity loss, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, licking pussy, forcing orgasm, mild fantasy!AU toward the end, this is not for minors.

⤷ Summary | You have been separated from your beloved and your kingdom is under the rule of a heartless man, but all is not lost.

➢ Author's Note | I wrote this story because after Dark Moon I found it hard to part with Jimin, and at the same time I wanted to bring some sweetness to heal my heart a little, I hope you enjoy this story ❤️

ps: all images used for the banner belong exclusively to me!

Permanent Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002, @takemeaway5402 @angelicsmilesworld @pantara @ke1k029 @btssimpjaneth

⋆｡ ﾟ ︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ﾟ ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ ︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ﾟ ｡ ⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ﾟ ｡

"The multi-murderer Park Jimin here, the rebel leader who has been sowing terror in our lands for years, stealing from our families and killing our children, is sentenced to capital punishment, tomorrow at dawn the gallows will await his head."

A buzz rises in the room, all the attention of those present is focused on the commander of His Majesty's Royal Guards, the man is reading an official communiqué, with every word your heart receives a painful, deafening stinging.

Your eyes are steady on the blond-haired boy, kneeling in the middle of the hall, his mischievous gaze on the king, your uncle.

"The condemned man will be escorted immediately to his cell, where he will remain until the following morning, in the hope that he will repent of his deplorable deeds and ask God for forgiveness."

The boy’s grin deepens, in his ice-colored eyes that contributed to his fame, shines an amused spark, you know what it means… it’s that attitude of his that made you fall in love with him, your Jimin.

"Deplorable is forgetting the poor people you have killed for your own interests, mine was only justice, my lords...there should be someone else in my place, you all know that," the barb aimed directly at the king makes everyone present hold their breath. including you.

To address a tyrant ruler like your uncle in that way is simply insane, by your side you see the man in question clenching his fists and narrowing his gaze, but he dare not go on a rampage, not in front of his subjects, at least.

"Take him to his cell, that's where such a beast deserves to be," the king hisses, and when the guards badly pull Jimin to his feet, he finally looks at you-it's only an instant, but it's enough for you to notice his expression change from mischievous to wistful.

You barely hold back the tears as they take him away, unable to say or do anything, you promised him, you promised him you would do nothing foolish or dangerous, but your heart clenched in a painful grip calls out to him and longs to feel his embrace again, but yours is a secret that must be kept silent and hidden.

You feel a hand wrap itself around your shoulders and you shudder, watching your uncle's dark eyes stare at you suspiciously, the crown jewels shining wickedly on his head, as if mocking you, a princess forgotten by her people.

"Is there something you would like to say, my niece?" his words creep disgustingly down your spine, you want to spit in his face, but you hold back.

You clutch your robes in your hands, imprinting your best smile on your lips.

"No, Your Highness, I am calmer now, finally that outlaw has been caught" uttering those words kills you inside, it is before you the real outlaw, the one who plotted against your father to usurp his throne, you are alive only because you are a sweet and important pawn in your uncle's game, if you want to conquer a new country without shedding blood, you need a precious bargaining chip, no?

And in your veins runs the pure blood of a princess, an opportunity too tempting for your uncle who is already itching to give you away in marriage to who knows what spoiled, deadbeat prince.

You sense a gentler hand pulling you away, it is your wet nurse, sweet old Harun, she curtseys to your uncle and when he turns his attention to the other nobles in the room, the woman finally speaks, "Come, my lady, you must rest now" you let yourself be dragged away from her like a shattered rag doll, once this woman could patch you up, now you doubt that playing another of her games to cheer you up will have the desired effect, the love of your life will be executed tomorrow.

"It's over, Harun," you say with a sob stuck in your throat, "It's really over..." Harun stares at you with tears in her eyes.

After all, she witnessed your love; before he was an outlaw, Jimin was the son of a knight of the king, one of your father's best friends, you grew up together, you watched him practicing with his sword in the imperial gardens, hidden among the hedges as a princess should not have done, he loved practicing with you during dance lessons, you were very close and Harun had never dared to push you away, aware of the importance of a young love like yours.

After your uncle killed the king, Jimin's father rebelled by not accepting the new ruler and found death awaiting him, his family was stripped of its noble title and robbed of all wealth, throwing Jimin into a spiral of hatred and revenge.

He found ways to stir up trouble for the new king and his court by looting their homes or killing important members of their families, you on your side knew he was alive because of the whispers coming from the servants, with regret you realize that you saw his handsome face again as he was kneeling at the new king's feet and it will probably be the last time as well.

Harun gives you time to enter your bedroom, "My lady, Jimin never blamed you for what happened to him."

You smile softly, "I know, he... he is good, Harun, Jimin is good."

The elderly woman nods understandingly, it is when you sit on the bed that you notice something. Before you leave, Harun deliberately lets something slip among your things; it's a key.

"I hope you can both be happy, princess," she says before closing the door behind her.

With slow, tentative steps you reach for the key, you look around fearfully, almost expecting your uncle to pop out from somewhere, ready to accuse you of treachery, but when you grab the key to the castle dungeons nothing of what you imagined happens, you look out your window, the moon in the sky is high and motherly, almost inviting you to follow your heart, and with a salty smile you clutch the key to your chest.

Just for the thoughts invading your mind you deserve condemnation, but what do you have to lose now? If the love of your life dies tomorrow at dawn, then you will stand by his side, not among cruel people looking down on him.

Take a last look at your room, you spent a wonderful childhood within those walls; on the bed wrapped in tulle and silk you embroidered with your mother, on the carpet with your family crest you played while Harun braided your hair, good-naturedly reprimanding you if you spoke a little too loudly and smiling sweetly you remember at the window a young and cunning Jimin climbing a tree to join you in your rooms, that's how your first and only kiss happened, it was a light and chaste touch, but it was enough to leave you with your heart wrapped in joy.

Then it was all over, no more games, laughter or shy hugs at every corner of the castle. The new king ruined everything.

The night welcomes you and slips with you as you move like a shadow within the castle walls, after years of dancing your step is so light that the heels of your shoes do not make the slightest noise, you clutch the light shawl you have carried with you over your shoulders, shivering at the draught that penetrates through the draughts of the dungeons, you have found no guards as you pass, they are all focused on protecting the king and his apartments, the fear of possible revenge from Jimin's men is too vivid for them.

You descend the stone steps covering your nose with your shawl, the smell of mold is strong and makes your eyes water, drops of water whose origin is unknown to you fall from the ceiling, it is so dark that you are forced to take a torch from the wall and use it to light your way, the flame dances sinuously with your every movement and you finally access the last part of the long and winding corridor. A sickening smell of urine overtakes you as you approach the filthy cells, Jimin is locked up in such a place, another wicked way of trying to humiliate him.

There are five cells in all, in front of them you notice a wooden table with two chairs, that's where you immediately go, take the bottle of wine and swallow, you have to.

It's something you've always thought of reserving for your uncle someday, but Jimin's life is more important, so you firmly detach the thin chain you've been wearing around your neck since your father's death from your neck, you look one last time at the silver pendant with your family crest, then you open it with a small click and its contents are revealed, you throw a few pieces of the wolfsbane root into the wine, hoping that the guards will drink it before they realize what had been done, and with a shuddering breath you hide the necklace in the pockets of your dress.

Then, as if you hadn't just poisoned the bottle, you slowly make your way to the dirty rooms enclosed by old iron bars, you illuminate the cramped space of each cell by the torchlight flame, you notice beds of dirty, old straw and dark stains on the wall, you don't even want to imagine what it could be.

You notice a soft humming, it is gentle and sweet, you swallow recognizing the melody, he is there.

You approach the last cell with your heart in your throat, you haven't seen him in years, you don't know exactly how he will react to your presence, you repeat Harun's words in your head as you use the key she gave you to open the cell, the noise is creepy as you open the rusted iron door, the shadows inside are even more so.

You take a step in there, your feet meet more straw, it is so dark that you can only rely on the torch you clutch in your hand and the moonlight filtering through a tiny barred window, you try to look around but suddenly the flame goes out, the loss of light provokes in you the instinct to scream, but one hand rushes to close your mouth while another grabs you by the side, holding you to a warm body you didn't think you could touch again.

You shudder when the tip of his nose lightly brushes your neck, and you are inflamed to realize that he is inhaling your fragrance. You feel him smile against your skin before leaving a kiss on it that makes you lose several beats and your hair stand up pleasantly.

"What's a princess like you doing in a place like this... with someone like me?" he whispers in your ear as the tempting devil would, you'd be lying if you said he had no effect on you, your mind and body are hopelessly drawn to him.

His hand releases your mouth and reaches down to your neck, tightening it in a deliberately weak grip, you lick your lips before responding.

"I'm here to set you free, Jimin," you say softly, this makes him snort in amusement.

"Set me free? Oh, Y/N... I'm not afraid to die" you tremble when he says your name and turn in his arms, you try to look into his eyes but the only thing you catch is the dangerous glint in them.

"I do, I am afraid! I don't want you to die, Jimin..." you whisper in a broken voice and finally allow yourself to embrace him, rest your head on his warm chest and although he doesn't reciprocate, he does nothing to stop you.

It's a strange feeling you feel, he left you he was a skinny little boy full of rage, now he is a man facing death head on, but you are not ready to let him go one more time.

"And I don't want you to be here when the guards come back, this is high treason to the crown, Y/N," he growls looking at the open cell door and clutching your shoulders, he wants you to leave, you know.

"Do you think I care? No, Jimin... I stopped being a princess when my father and mother died, when you were forced to leave and left me alone" you say the last word bitterly, "If I die saving you, I will accept my fate."

He slowly pushes you back, each step brings you closer to the light filtering through the small window, and when you end up with your back to the wall, you can finally see clearly the face of the man he has become and your breath catches, his peculiar eyes hold a torment that does not shine through in his brazen voice, you raise a hand to his face and shyly brush the line of his jaw, his golden locks shine under the moonlight glow, it is shocking.

"You don't even know what you're saying, you're a silly princess who's read too many books and now thinks she can save an outlaw" he laughs softly shaking his head, "Go back to your room, Y/N and forget me" when he turns away from you and you lose the little hold you have on him, the world comes crashing down on you.

Forget him? He has no idea how many years you spent waiting for him, hoping he would take you away from your uncle's clutches, he never came to get you and yet you never stopped hoping, you shake your head looking at him sorrowfully. It is easy for him to say such a thing, after all, he has already left you in his past, a past he has turned his back on.

"You're probably right, I'm a silly princess who has read too many books and now wants to save an outlaw, but I won't forget you," you hiss feeling a sudden surge of anger, because if you gave in to the sadness that now clutches your heart you would find yourself crying on your knees and he doesn't deserve that, "It may have been very easy for you to make me disappear from your mind and heart, but don't think we're the same in this."

He does not answer you, you know he is gritting his teeth by the rhythmic click of his jaw, you thought you had found him and instead you are looking at a stranger.

"You've grown ... and you've changed," you whisper before turning toward the exit with a chill in your body, "The cell is open and the guards are focused on protecting the king, you pretty much have the coast clear."

Before you can leave, his voice stops you.

"What will happen to you? Every action has a repercussion, princess."

You smile without amusement; it's ridiculous how he avoids facing your feelings by pretending they don't exist.

"Don't waste your time on me and go, it's not even certain that they will find out," you sigh with one last look at the man who stole your heart and soul before freezing you, he now has his hands clasped around the bars of the window, as if he refuses to look at you. It is stupid what you are about to do, but you need one last test.

You let your shawl slide to the ground; if it is still in the straw tomorrow, you will be condemned in Jimin's place; if, on the other hand, the guards do not find it, it means the boy has taken it with him. You know you are being selfish, but you wish a part of you would stay with him, even though he would probably like not to think of you again.

"Jimin!" one of his friends notices him, and relief is immediate in the group.

They welcome him with open arms as he collapses to the ground, tired but happy to still have his head attached to his neck.

"We were already prepared to intervene during the public trial, but this changes everything! How did you escape?" Hoseok asks him with wide eyes, Jimin brings a hand to his damp and dirty hair, seriously in need of a bath after spending a night running through dirty streets and dirt.

"I was helped ... by a friend, let's say," he replies through clenched teeth, gratefully taking the water bottle Yoongi is handing him.

"A friend? Some servant girl you've had fun with in the past?" asks Taehyung smoothly, receiving a blow on the head from Namjoon.

It is Seokjin who notices the shawl that Jimin has tied around his waist, masterfully takes it before the boy can even notice and ignores the latter's protests.

"I'd say a princess," he says with a smile, spreading the fabric and displaying the royal family crest under the sunlight, "I knew it, she-"

"Stop. I know what you are going to say and I urge you to go no further," Jimin growls taking back your shawl, "She belongs in that castle."

"Kidnapping a princess is easy, so what's your problem?" in a not at all gentle way, Jungkook voices the question that has always crossed everyone's mind.

"Her place is not in that castle, everyone in the kingdom knows that ever since Cobra killed his brother and sister-in-law, he wants to use his niece as a bargaining chip with all countries provided with an heir" Namjoon looks at him sternly, but Jimin sighs.

"She is a princess, that is her duty."

He clutches your shawl tightly before getting up from the ground and heading to his tent, your place is not by his side, you are safer in that castle, whoever went against that foolish new king met his death, he will never forget the life in his father's eyes that faded away, nor the flames that burned his house and the king's guards that captured his mother and brothers, you will not end up the same way because of his selfishness, if leaving you by your uncle's side will preserve your life, then he will give up on you.

He clutches tightly at the fabric that still carries your sweet scent of vanilla and cookies, it was devastating to have had you next to him again without being able to hold you as he would have liked, for a moment the memories of childhood lulled him tenderly, but you are two different people now, he is different and must let you go, it is for your own good he thinks as he ties your shawl around his duffle bag, trying not to think back to the pain in your voice as you left the cell.

Someday, when you have a family of your own, you will understand the reason behind his every action.

The walls tremble at the king's shouts, he is furious.

Everyone in the hall looks at each other nervously, you keep your vacant and tired gaze, it has been three days since Park Jimin's escape and your uncle shows no sign of ending his fury, he has executed five guards and two nobles of his court suspected of helping Jimin with the escape. The reason is the poison found in the wine that killed the sentries who were on guard that night; it is a plant found only in the royal gardens and only the king and the nobles of his court have access to it.

"Who dared to betray the king?" is the question circulating among those in the hall as you crinkle the skirt of your gown with nervous fingers, not regretting helping Jimin, but breathing the heavy air of these days is not easy.

"Who do you think could have done it, my niece?" when your uncle whispers the question in your ear you stiffen.

"I don't have enough evidence to accuse anyone, Your Majesty, the only thing I can say is that it must have been a fool with no conscience," you reply in as firm a tone as possible, your uncle scrutinizing you from head to toe before nodding.

"Yeah, a fool..." he hisses shifting his gaze to his nobles, out of the corner of your eye you notice Harun looking at you from the front door with sadness.

She expected Jimin to take you away with him, and truthfully you had hoped for that at first too, but you can't force a person to love you, it's a good thing things turned out this way, you can finally stop chasing a ghost and wishing for something you will never have.

When that day's reunion ends, you can finally be free to wander around the castle, what you don't expect is to find the king in your safe place, your mother's private little garden.

"Sire..." you whisper strangely, the king never dared to enter there, everything about those lush plants and flowers carries the memory of your mother, a beautiful and sensitive woman, but also very strong. She did not shy away from her brother-in-law's sword when he pointed it at her chest.

"Y/N, you are doing a very good job here," he nods in the direction of the white lilies in the height of their bloom, you do nothing to approach the man, you have always discreetly driven away his presence, but it is one thing to leave his halls, another to leave a place you consider your own, this may make him too suspicious.

He, however, seems not to notice your lack of response, too busy studying the many plants in the small garden.

"Go ahead and sit down and read one of your books, nephew...I'm just here to find some peace...I confess, Park Jimin's escape troubles me," he casts you a little glance and you clear your throat.

"You are the king, he cannot harm you in here, Sire."

The man nods weakly, but still looks tense.

"Oh, I know I am the king, my dear niece, but the idea that a traitor could live within the walls of my castle does not let me sleep at night."

You grit your teeth.

His castle? The castle he forcibly wrested from you and your family?

This is another humiliation to which you cannot respond as you actually want to, you swallow the knot in your throat.

"Precisely why I'm so disappointed... in you" you squint, possible...  "Y/N, I kept you alive when I took the throne years ago, you were such a pretty and malleable child, but maybe not enough" he continues before shaking off the dark cloak and pulling out something that locks your breath in your lungs.

In his fist he clutches your necklace, the one that contained the poison and that you thought you had hidden in the sewn folds of your dress, you don't know what to say, so you try to pretend.

"Oh! You found it, I've been looking for it for days," you exclaim in the most surprised tone you can imitate, but the man doesn't seem to be playing along with you.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N, this necklace was found inside the cell where Park Jimin was locked up, I had heard rumors about your childish feelings for that outlaw, but to go that far? To go so far as to betray me? I spared your life, I never denied you and your title of princess! I raised you as if you were my own daughter!" he shouts, violently pulling off a wolfsbane root hidden among the lilies.

Something snaps inside you at his insinuations, an anger you've been hatching for years that has never found an outlet.

"Raised as a daughter? You killed my father and mother for a crown! You put power and wealth first, you deprived me of a family, you did the same to Jimin and claim to pass as a victim now! You are a vile monster!"

Your uncle is quick to draw the same sword with which he had remorselessly severed your father's head, he points it at your throat and it is so close that you feel the blade press against your skin enough to scratch it, you inhale deeply trying to block the fear that makes your heart gallop against your rib cage.

"I am the king, I don't allow a foolish girl to judge my actions, I realize I was wrong to spare you that night...but what should I do with you now? Should I kill you now or..." a mad light flashes in his eyes, "Of course... a condemned will be there, you will take the place of your beloved Jimin," he hisses in your face, a slow smile makes room on your cheeks contrary to what the man expected.

He expected you to burst into tears and fall to your knees begging him to spare you, but you will not, you will honor your mother's memory.

"You're just a coward," you whisper amused, at which the man's face turns red with fury.

"Guards! Guards!" he shouts at that point, six men enter by breaking through the glass door from which you enter to reach your mother's garden, shards of glass surround you along with the soldiers, you have no escape and so you merely chill the king with your gaze, "Lock her up in the highest and most isolated tower of the castle, I sentence the princess to death for helping the dangerous fugitive Park Jimin escape from my prisons!"

"Your day will come, too, Uncle," you hiss furiously, "And when you find him before your eyes, you will fall to your knees begging him to spare your life, but he will not be so merciful," you announce proudly, not needing to utter Jimin's name to alert your uncle, the way he suddenly whitens is already an answer for you, you keep smiling as an austere-looking man tugs you badly, forgetting that he has a princess on his hands, or maybe they don't care, it's the king who matters to them.

As you are thrown to the floor inside what will be your final chamber, darkness engulfs you once the door is closed.

You cough hard involuntarily inhaling the air thick with dust and dirt, your eyes burn and you do not know whether from tears or from the irritants in the room, the only thing you are sure of is that tomorrow your entire kingdom will know of your death sentence.

They will probably learn of that news with indifference, wondering why the king did not kill you earlier, along with the rest of your family.

You often ask yourself that too, if he had killed you then, you would have died basking in the thought that Jimin loved you and would remember you forever.

"Let's move, we need to refuel in town before we leave," says Seokjin starting to saddle his horse, Namjoon on the other hand is busy cataloging all their stuff to avoid losing anything after yet another move.

"Taehyung's not back yet?" complains Hoseok snortingly, picking up the "stupid guy's" bag, Jungkook shrugs in response.

They sent Taehyung to check the situation in town, moving in a group would have been dangerous; it's always better to check one at a time that the coast is clear.

"Strange, he should be here already," Jimin whispers as he squints, their momentary safe place in the heart of the forest is now almost completely clear, only Taehyung is missing.

"Maybe he's found something interesting," murmurs Yoongi crossing his arms and staring at an unspecified point toward the horizon, everyone staring at him in confusion before hearing Taehyung's voice.

"Jimin!" exclaimed Taehyung coming galloping in a breathless gallop, Hoseok cursing.

"I hope no one saw you running and screaming like that, you asshole," he growls, but Taehyung overtakes him with wide eyes and a paper clutched in his hand.

"Jimin, it's about the princess!" silence instantly replaces the protests of the others, Jimin stiffens as he stares guardedly at the paper Taehyung is clutching so desperately, "That fool of a king-" is interrupted by his friend who snatches the flyer from his hands to read it himself.

A boulder falls into his stomach and the ground is as if shaking beneath his feet, the king has sentenced you to death, you will end up hanging with a noose around your neck for helping him escape, he clutches the piece of paper tightly, shaking with fury.

You should not have helped him, you should not have risked your life for someone like him, when he thinks of how he treated you before you left he feels only immense shame.

"We should have kidnapped her when I proposed it," Jungkook sighs before saddling his horse as well.

"Saving her is the more appropriate term," Yoongi corrects him, adjusting his leather vest before turning to Jimin, "What do you want to do now?"

Jimin lets out a laugh full of malice, his adamantine eyes shining as he observes the king's seal in the communiqué.

"Are you still convinced that leaving her in that castle is the only way to keep her safe?" asks Namjoon sarcastically, Jimin shakes his head.

"In light of the new events, I would say no," he sighs reluctantly, handing the communiqué to Hoseok.

"The execution is in two days, we have to find a way to get into the castle and find her."

"He probably locked her up in the most isolated tower, he did the same with her mother before he killed her, it's as if he enjoys seeing them wallowing in fear," the blond man forcefully clutches a twig picked from the ground before snapping it in two, wishing he had the king's neck in his hands.

"Now with all those guards circling her it will be harder to kidnap a princess, but nothing is impossible for us," sneers Jungkook, but Jimin doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of having you back by his side, filling him with unease and remorse, reminding him of all the years he was absent and didn't really care how you might feel sitting side by side with the monster who killed your parents.

Someone squeezes his shoulder in comfort, it is Jin who is looking at him with a smile, "Hey, if you explain everything to her she will understand, from what you told me, she seems like a smart and intelligent girl."

Jimin grins slightly and nods.

"She is."

You look out the small tower window with tears in your eyes, you don't know how many hours you have been crying now, what your uncle did was deplorable and cruel.

You were allowed to sleep with your sweet old Harun beside you, you had to imagine that behind that concession was the cruel promise of a snake.

‘With the princess dead, there is no need for a wet nurse anymore’ is what the king said before ordering the guards to carry Harun away to the outside, exactly in the direction of your window, before they began to slaughter her amidst the screams of both of you, you shook the bars at the window of the hope of breaking them and reaching her, but it had all been in vain, Harun died almost immediately, she preferred not to withstand the blows to spare you the suffering of watching her fight like an animal for who knows how long.

Your throat burns as you sob, her body is still there, no one has gone to cover her, they are simply waiting for the ravens to arrive.

You slowly fall to your knees letting go of your grip on the bars, your hands are encrusted with blood and your nails are broken, you clutch your hands to your chest remembering your wet nurse who apologized to you the night before for encouraging you to free Jimin, repeating numerous times that she firmly believed you would run away together.

You feel guilty, perhaps if you had not requested Harun's presence, she would not have come into the king's sights, you find yourself wishing the hours would pass quickly, you do not want to be alone with your thoughts, they are too scary, death in comparison seems like a sweet promise.

Suddenly you hear the creak of the old door opening, for a moment - your despite yourself - you brighten up, believing you'll find Jimin ready to help you, but the dream soon shatters once again, it's not Jimin, it's one of the guards, and then you frown, what is he doing here? The king has expressly ordered that no one should speak to you again.

"What do you want, sir?" you ask with a strange feeling in your stomach, the guard sneers.

"A change of room, the king has ordered it," you stare at the open door, then back at the guard, it's a boy who looks familiar to you, he has black hair and droopy eyes.

You don't ask any further questions, you get up from the floor and shaking off the dust you let him grab you by the arm, though you grit your teeth in anger you dare not say anything, it's still better than having chains on your wrists and ankles.

He takes you outside urgently, you don't see the other guards and it makes you suspicious, you remember there were at least three outside the door, what is going on?

It is when you get to the fourth flight of stairs that you feel a violent grip on your shoulder before you are forced into a small, dark room, perhaps a closet used by the servants to store items, you scream with all your might, but the man's slimy mouth immediately covers yours, it is disgusting as you try to force his tongue between your lips and with a firm conk in your throat you bite it off with all your might.

This makes him flinch away with a yelp, it's dark and you can't see anything, you can only imagine him probing his tongue with his fingers to make sure it's still attached, you spit out his blood shuddering.

"You know..." he begins panting, "I've never been with a princess, I must say you are much better than servants," he laughs like a maniac returning again to his intent, trying to lift your dress skirts, but every time he tries to sneak his hand in, he always finds a kick to hit it badly.

With your heart engaged in a mad rush, you try to defend yourself as best you can, you've never been in a situation like this, but you won't let this happen, ever.

You desperately grope for something behind you, his wine-smelling breath twisting your guts and when he comes to lick your neck you manage to hold on to something cold and spiky, you don't even need to ask for forgiveness for what you are about to do, you don't even feel a hint of guilt as you start hitting him viciously wherever you can, with a snarl he tries to block your hands but you manage to knock him unconscious with one last blow.

You open the door to the small room to escape and the man's body collapses to the floor, you finally recognize him, he is the son of the guards' captain, and a rush of satisfaction fills your chest as you think back to what they did to Harun, then you suddenly realize you are free.

You don't know exactly where you're going to go, but you have a chance to escape and you're not going to miss a golden opportunity like that.

To enter the castle they used an old and dense series of underground tunnels leading to every corner of the palace, to be on the safe side Jimin chose the one that would lead them to the kitchens populated only by servants at certain times.

"Well, we're in," Hoseok snorts, shaking cobwebs from his clothes in disgust, "Now what?"

"We should split up and check every single tower, just in case," proposes Seokjin nabbing an apple from the basket in the large kitchen, Jimin looks around wistfully, brushing against the massive old wooden table he remembers all the afternoons spent with you stealing cookies with the complicity of Harun and the cook, with the old housekeeper always at your heels repeating to you to go back to the lessons with the riding teacher.

"Be careful, the castle is swarming with soldiers," the blond warns them before going on his way, refusing to take anyone else with him.

He moves through the shadows of the palace, making sure to avoid every corner illuminated by the light of the flashlights hanging on the walls of almost every corridor, his stride is light despite the leather boots he is wearing, he is getting closer and closer to the throne room and he shouldn't, he is there to save you, but... if he kills the king you will ascend to the throne.

He tries to calm his breathing, the idea of coming face to face again with the man responsible for his downfall is too much for him, it would be delightful to sever the head from his neck and proclaim a new ruler, one man's death would be enough to end both of their nightmares.

Before he can even really realize it, he has reached the vicinity of the throne room, hidden behind a secluded corner he watches the guards lurking at each corner of the door.

Opening his palm he slowly slides a dagger down his arm to his wrist, grasps the handle foretasting the moment when he will plunge the blade into the living flesh of the two soldiers in the king's service, one of them yawns sonorously and keeps his eyes almost completely closed, receiving a shove from the other.

"Hey, I'm going for a check-up, try not to fall asleep as usual, you boar," he growls before putting his hand on the sword hilt and walking away looking around.

Jimin sneers as he licks his lower lip, drops his cloak hood and calmly approaches the displeased man.

"Why do I always have to stay on guard?" he hears him mutter, "That prick really turns my-" the words stop in the middle of his throat while Jimin is cutting it, it is such a smooth movement his that it now seems remarkably natural.

The man doesn't resist, he moans in a hushed voice as he collapses to the ground accompanied by the blond man who doesn't mind the blood smeared on his cloak, the stench of alcohol the soldier exudes, he can swear he was too drunk to try to react in any other way, everything seems to be going in his favor and he can't help but bask in the pleasure of what is about to take place.

When he enters the great throne room, he cannot help but think of the time when he found himself kneeling before the king in a humiliating position, but that night everything will be reversed.

The young man remembers the walls finished in gold and silver, but the frescoes proclaiming King Cobra as the victor are new, depicting hunting scenes and valiant battles to feed the man's narcissistic side, but they are all lies, Jimin knows and so does Cobra himself.

The king's back is turned and he is holding his hands behind his back, he is carefully watching something from the high windows of the throne room, perhaps he does not sense the presence creeping behind him or simply ignores it, the fact is that when Jimin points his sword at his back, the man does not move an inch, he remains ice cold.

"I knew you would come back for her, Jimin," there is an amused note in his voice, Jimin thins his gaze.

"For her? I came back to kill you," the boy growls, pressing the gleaming blade harder.

"Um..." the man brings a hand to his face to smooth his long beard, "So you don't care about Y/N or what might happen to her at this very moment."

A trace of insecurity quickly passes through Jimin's icy eyes, he grits his teeth before uttering the words he would not want left his lips, "Exactly, I'm just here to settle a score."

"Oh, well ... then, before you settle this unfinished score, why don't you enjoy the show with me?" the sardonic question awakens Jimin's sixth sense, as he lifts his gaze over the king's shoulder and toward the stained glass windows, just outside the garden that would later lead inside the bramble forest.

Immediately he feels the blood freeze in his veins, he rolls his eyes and tries to keep his calm demeanor, but inside he is dying.

You are there.

You're running toward the forest with a soldier behind you gaining more and more ground, you're too tired and petite to outrun him, you won't make it.

"So what? Will you take my life and satisfy your revenge or will you run to save the princess in danger?" chuckles Cobra, Jimin hisses strengthening his grip and tearing at the king's gaudy robes with the tip of his blade, he knows what he has to do, the answer is so obvious, but letting go of such a being is unthinkable for him, unbearable.

With a snarl he pushes the king away, who rolls badly to the ground, and before he can even comprehend what has just happened, Jimin puts his sword to his throat, the blade shining under the dim light of the candles and longing for the young man to go forward, to pierce the flesh of that worm and sever his head from the rest of his body, but all that does not happen.

Jimin's eyes are now as dark as darkness, he uncovers his teeth like a snarling wolf, "I will return, Your Majesty... and when you see me again, you will pray for God to save you, for I will have no mercy on your dark soul," he hisses, hurling a slash toward the king, then heading quickly and in a blind fury toward the exit of the hall.

Cobra with wide eyes grazes his own face, slowly a wound opens under his left eye and blood stains his hands.

You hiss in pain with every thorn that sticks in your legs, your dress is torn in several places and you try to catch your breath as you pray that the soldier will not find you.

You have ended up in the bramble forest so feared in your kingdom and every movement of the wild plants that inhabit it makes you tremble with terror, everything is dark and cold, you can only hear the cry of the owls that watch your silent struggle mocking you.

You manage to crawl painfully behind a large and imposing tree, lift your skirt and observe the pitiful condition of your legs, bite your lower lip with tears in your eyes, your skin is full of scratches and blood, but you can still run.

You try to pick yourself up, but noises of broken branches block your every movement, you stand with bated breath as someone wanders through the trees.

"Come here, little flower... let's go back to your room," you hear him humming with amusement, "I don't know how you got out, but you won't be punished, you're still a princess after all."

You tremble with cold and fear, it is obvious that the man is not telling the truth, you have seen your uncle's men act before and you know they know no kindness or mercy.

"Our sweet..." you frown as you follow the man's footsteps with your ears, you can't make out which direction he is coming from, "Princess..." you see something moving quickly out of the corner of your eye to your right, you spontaneously throw yourself to the left to avoid it, believing it to be the guard, but to your horror you realize it is a small fox, "... Y/N! " you scream with all your might when hands yank you away, you manage to free yourself only because the man's grip is weak, at which point you run away again.

"Run, princess, run! I'll find you again anyway!" he laughs excitedly at the idea of hunting after months locked in the castle protecting the king's life.

You are tired, your eyesight is getting more and more fatigued, you just want everything to be over as soon as possible. You don't even know where you might go in case you escape the man, you will always be hunted down by the king and his array of soldiers, the idea of giving up everything and accepting the end you will make crosses your mind, even if it means saying goodbye to Jimin for good.

Bramble bushes once again block your way, they stick to your skin and dress, they seem to be on the side of your assailant, you can no longer escape, it's over.

"Gotcha, princess" you feel his heavy breath on your neck, his arms grip you tightly before he lifts you up by weight and throws you into the shaggy, dry grass, "Look at you... actually you don't look like a princess anymore, you look like a dirty peasant girl" he chuckles, kneeling down in front of you, he touches your hair and you glower at him.

"Don't touch me, you dirty mangy dog" you growl, slapping his hand, the man's expression changes, it is no longer cheerful, now he looks resentful.

"You have such peasant language, your mother didn't live long enough to teach you manners, but I'll teach you a good lesson," he says before lifting a hand, ready to slap you in the face.

As your wide eyes stare at the man's heavy hand, your ears feel something move across the grass and stomp on it, then the sound of a slash lashing the air and suddenly you are free, the man falls to the side holding his neck but desperately reaching for the dagger hidden in his leather belt amid curses and expletives.

"Jimin..." you whisper as you see a golden flash in the darkness of the forest, the shadow falls hard on your assailant and you find yourself forcefully closing your eyes to avoid looking at that gruesome spectacle, you listen in disgust to the intense barks of the dying man.

Then everything falls silent.

You feel Jimin's presence approaching your huddled figure on the ground and you don't know how to act.

He has certainly saved your life, but he has just killed a man and you are the granddaughter of the king who took everything away from him; he is no longer the Jimin of when you were an innocent child.

"Are you all right?" he kneels at your side with a certain formality and coldness in his tone of voice, as if trying to keep his distance, hurting you.

You slowly rise up avoiding looking him in the eye, "I'm alive, so yeah... I'm fine," you whisper dimly, hissing when you try to stand up and your legs resume burning painfully, you clench your flayed fingers into small fists and when he notices them he cannot forbid himself a barely concealed dry breath.

"One moment, let me see," he offers, already grabbing a flap of your torn dress, instantly freezing when he meets your eyes wide with embarrassment.

What he was about to do is disgraceful as well as incredibly intimate.

"It's nothing, I can still walk... can you help me reach the village? I might find someone willing to let me board by ship," you ask gritting your teeth, the forest finally gains some light and you can make out the young man's surprised expression.

Your gaze falls on his black robes, although it is not very clear you understand that the darker stains correspond to the blood of the man he has just killed and to whom you dare not even cast a glance, you swallow wondering why apart from your disgust at the blood, it does not bother you at all.

"I am here to save you, princess," he murmurs decisively, "Going to the village is not safe, you can only trust me," at his words you tighten your lips into a tight line.

"If you really want to save me, then stop talking to me in that tone, we grew up together as friends, stop pulling away from me" you whisper sadly, the boy shows a flash of displeasure as your words sink into his heart, behind him several men on their horses begin to approach, one of whom is unridden.

"Jimin, more guards are coming!" exclaims a boy with hair as dark as a raven's feathers and tenacious eyes, and tossing him the reins of the riderless horse, the animal is magnificent, its coat as white as milk and its mane shining like the most precious gold.

Orobel.

With tears in your eyes you recognize the foal your father gave Jimin for his 12th birthday. He is much bigger and more majestic now, a force of nature in every way.

"You must come with us if you want to save your life, princess," says another, his shoulders broad and posture proud, he looks like the leader of the group, a large bow protrudes from his back.

You send down a knot in your throat when Jimin extends a hand toward you encouragingly, "We must go, don't be afraid of them, they are my trusted comrades, Y/N."

Your name uttered by his sweet lips shakes you to the core, he may not be aware of the effect he still has on you and you want to cry like a little girl when he helps you up from the muddy ground and hoist you onto Orobel, if he somehow notices your glazed eyes, he says nothing, probably blaming the wounds on your legs.

You really wish it were that way.

Jimin is chopping wood with an axe, he is shirtless and you watch from a distance, sitting on the grass and wrapped in a clean, heavy cloak, it is the only thing the boys have found suitable for you to protect you from the evening wind.

You notice a few drops of sweat sliding down his neck and then down to his muscular chest as he flexes his arms to strike yet another wooden stump, you swallow with a slight blush dusted on your cheeks, you didn't remember his physique being so grown up, it's all new to you as well as incredibly embarrassing.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi picking some herbs not far from you, it makes you feel uncomfortable to have to live with so many men; when your uncle took you into custody, he didn't allow any boys to get close to you, he wanted to keep you pure for his plans. Thinking back to the man who didn't think twice about sentencing you to death paralyzes you. You have to hold on until you find your own place to stay, you doubt that Jimin will ever want you by his side; therefore, you have to think personally about your future, even if it is painful to think about.

Being with them, you get a little insight into everyone's roles within the group.

Seokjin is certainly the leader as well as an experienced archer. You have observed him several times taking aim and hitting his intended target accurately, plus he has an aura around him that inspires confidence and trust. On the other hand, Taehyung looks a bit like the jester of the situation, but you have seen him wielding daggers to catch various animals and never wished to take their place, it is clear that behind that sunny smile he hides a soul as dark as the others.

Namjoon would rather observe and devise traps than take part in an actual confrontation, but it is clear that he would never back down in the face of a real threat, just as Yoongi, who plays the role of doctor in the group, helped you bandage your fingers and legs when you arrived at their camp and was incredibly quiet, not that you felt like talking still upset after the events of the night.

Then there are Hoseok and Jungkook, both of whom are the hunters, their job is to find and kill all possible threats in the surroundings, lest their lair be found and besieged by the king's men.

Also, you found out that Jimin is a master of swords.

He masters his steel blade so lightly and sinuously that it seems to dance when he moves and lashes the air.

You are in the midst of wolves, but it doesn't scare you too much, you know they won't hurt you, or so you assume after those five days spent in their company.

You feel a figure stop behind you, you raise your head and have to squint to avoid being blinded by the sun's rays, slowly you make out the form of Yoongi who bends respectfully at your height. His feline-cut eyes seem to invite you to listen to him.

"I can see you are tired, princess, and I know you haven't slept well since you've been here," he begins with a thoughtful look, "Taehyung has managed to find suitable clothes for you and there is a safe lake nearby, I invite you to freshen up and put on something clean before resting, you will surely feel better," he says with a small reassuring smile.

You frown, undecided about what to do, the idea of a bath tantalizes you almost overbearingly, but the embarrassment if one of them were to see you naked would be too much to bear, and Yoongi seems to understand that.

"The lake is far enough away from the camp, none of us here are planning to go to that area at the moment, it is completely safe and isolated, you need not fear anything," he hastens to specify, "I will just accompany you, I will be back here immediately."

"I... thank you, Yoongi" you smile gratefully, finally trusting the boy.

"I'll go get you those clothes, wait here for a moment," you nod, sighing slightly; you turn back to Jimin, but find to your disappointment that he has disappeared.

Yoongi leaves you by the lake, the path back to the camp is not difficult; so, you assure the man that you will have no trouble. He leaves you with a shadow of doubt etched on his face, but you pay no attention to it; you walk to the lakeshore and breathe in the air at the top of your lungs, enjoying the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that sail across it like ships.

When you finally reach the lake, you feed on the sight of the crystal-clear water, the temptation to undress is very strong, but tightening your lips into a line you look around suspiciously.

Stripping off completely would be too much, so you decide to stay in your petticoat, shivering at the breeze rattling the tree foliage, you hang your clothes from the branch of an old felled log nearby.

You turn toward the shore and treading over the small stones and grass you finally slowly begin to enter the water, sighing at the almost freezing temperature.

As the water reaches your belly you hear something emerge noisily from the lake, widening your eyes you find yourself screaming and covering your chest as best you can, wordlessly you see Jimin with his eyes closed bringing back his blond, golden-strand-like hair, the movement is magnetic, and you are practically naked. No, both of you are naked.

You flinch down with the water now up to your chin and your heart in your throat, peering warily at the boy who notices you only at that moment and stares at you wordlessly at first, you notice his jaw snap rigidly and his clear eyes darken, before turning away.

"I'm done, I'm leaving right now," he says raising his voice slightly to be heard, "I just needed to get the sweat off of me," he looks uncomfortable as he tries hard not to let his eyes slide to you.

A squeeze in your stomach is all you get from his words.

"Jimin..." you call out to him as he begins to swim toward the shore, the bitter feeling like gall at seeing him move further and further away from you once again has become unbearable, "So that's it? You don't want me?" his bare shoulders tremble slightly, and you don't know whether from the cold of the water or from your words.

You don't really expect to see him coming back toward you, but that's exactly what he does by moving at an extraordinary speed, he almost looks like a water creature, then he is in front of you in his full height, water droplets glide along his perfect skin and you swallow trying not to look at his bare chest or even lower, suddenly feeling like a little girl under the icy depths of his eyes.

"You're going to get sick, Y/N... Look, your lips are already purple," he whispers, brushing your lower lip with his thumb, stroking it gently, and you feel yourself suddenly go on fire.

"Can't you just answer me to end this suffering?" you beg him with moist eyes, Jimin sighs before shaking his head, reaching up to brush your hair.

"I am not suitable for you, Y/N," he mutters it almost angrily, wishing to put an end to this.

"Or am I not suitable for you, maybe that's what you think" you smile sadly and bitterly, "I'm sorry to still be a bother to you."

"You are not a bother" he almost growls those words and you sigh shaking your head.

"Then I will be soon, you will meet a beautiful woman, marry her and have your own family, that same woman will then wonder when I will disappear from your life forever and at that point there will be no place for me even in your memories," you say shakily, "That is, if there are still memories of me in your heart."

You follow the movement of his neck as he tilts to let his eyes peer deep into your soul, his serious, thoughtful expression leaving you interjected.

He doesn't seem to want to deny but not even admit your words; it's as if he, too, is as confused as you are.

His gaze moves further down, there where your thin robe has stuck to your body because of the water, you realize with shame that it has become transparent and revealing, but you decide not to cover yourself.

You want him to look at you, to see that you are no longer a child, that you have grown up and that your body is that of a girl in her prime.

"My real problem, Y/N ... is that I'm sure I've met that woman before, but I don't feel worthy to be around her, not when I abandoned her in a castle to pursue my revenge," he whispers, the sky-blue color of his eyes seems to become more watery, "I can't forgive myself for putting her on the back burner, that's the truth," you hear the pain in his voice, the one that was missing that night in the cell when you freed him.

The need to hug him and hold him to you suddenly becomes more suffocating, with a sob you throw yourself into his arms and this time he doesn't stay stiff as marble, his arms wrap around you like a silk blanket and you find refuge in his chest.

His skin is warm against your cheek and it's a feeling you didn't think you would experience again, the boy sinks his face into your hair and leaves a kiss on your temple, before brushing the tip of his nose against you and smiling softly.

"There will never be a woman who will make me forget you," despite his words, you feel sad, still incomplete.

You sigh against his neck and close your eyes, you have gotten used to the temperature of the water and its warmth helps to relax you.

"But there will be a woman who will take you away from me" you point out in a colorless voice, when he doesn't respond you decide to loosen your sudden embrace, "I'm tired of waiting for you, Jimin" you let go of the ripples in the water, swimming back to the shore without taking your eyes off the boy who still seems to be in doubt, then a small, amused smile stretches across your face, "I'll have to find a real man who knows what it means to love a woman," you taunt him, reaching down to a shallow spot in the lake bottom, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You begin to lower the straps of your now useless robe, abandoning all symptoms of shame, you want him to react or get angry in some way, you want a reaction from him and you get it, "Maybe Yoongi? I have to admit, he's very charming and he certainly knows what he wants, he could give me-" before you can even finish speaking, Jimin pulls you toward him grabbing you by the wrist, you only have time to make a surprised sound before his lips manage to cover yours in an impetuous, possession-filled kiss.

You hear your heart beating at a rapid pace in your ears, you did not expect your second kiss to happen this way, he seems exasperated as he presses himself against your mouth for more direct and intimate contact, you open your mouth slightly when his tongue dabs roughly on your lower lip.

It is a man who is kissing you, no longer the kid of your memories, and he seems more than willing to let you know it when one of his hands comes down to tenderly squeeze your throbbing neck, he smiles against your lips when he realizes that your heart seems to want to leave your chest and he separates himself from you with one last caress of his softest petals.

"I haven't even kissed you properly and your heart is already exploding," he chuckles with a spark of mischief in his clear eyes, "And who would you like to give such purity to, Yoongi?" he shakes his head hissing those words like an angry snake ready to attack.

You clench the hand that is still wrapped around your neck and strengthen his grip, wishing that the feel of his fingers on your skin would stay with you, "I've always wanted it to be yours, Jimin," you say softly, tilting your head at the slow descent of his hand.

"I'm very different from the nobles you grew up with, Y/N.... Don't expect me to catch you with a petticoat on," he continues by caressing a thin strap, lifting the fabric just a little, "Or for me to look away while you undress," he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips, reaches down to your chin and continues along the entire line of your neck, as water you adapt to the touch of him until he reaches your breast, your nipples turgid from the temperature of the water and his attentions are raised against the transparent fabric, the man can practically see their shape and color, he cups one breast as he pushes his head against your chest, kissing the soft, tantalizing flesh.

He adores you with his mouth and your sighs make him feel like a lion in a cage, his golden hair captures the last light of dawn as he pushes you against the shore and gets between your legs, studding you with kisses and caresses, returns to your mouth and finally with his tongue captures yours, inviting you to follow him.

You encircle his neck with your arms, trembling with excitement at the way he lets you touch him and the way he touches you, takes you by the hips and holds you against his massive, secure body.

"Jimin" you whisper in his ear as you feel something heavy and stiff against your inviolate intimacy, he mumbles something unintelligible, he seems lost in his bubble continuing to lick and kiss your neck, you tremble feeling incredibly hot, an unknown force urges you to rock against him and cling to his back with your fingernails, groaning suddenly.

This seems to awaken him and the spell is broken.

He flinches away, staring at you with agitation, in his gaze remorse is the one thing you don't want to read, but it's there.

"You need to get dressed," he warns you dangerously and with difficulty before pulling away from you completely, hurting you.

"H-Have I done something I shouldn't have done?" you ask bewildered, still with chills in your body from what his hands were capable of doing to you, this version of Jimin completely opposite from the boy who was kissing you only seconds ago is like a punch to the stomach.

"I said get dressed, Y/N! " he abruptly blurts out, "And stay away from Yoongi, I don't want to see you flirting with him, you're not a village woman," he runs a hand through his damp hair nervously, before stepping out of the water without caring about his nakedness, you turn your head away from him, the feeling of shame has returned to invade your limbs, and with a stone in your heart you bring your arms to your chest, stepping out of the water and groping for the dry clothes that Taehyung and Yoongi kindly gave you.

You don't see Jimin move away from you, clenching his fists and hitting the trunk of a tree until his knuckles are mangled, finding himself staring at the blood rushing to the grass with resentment, trying hard to forget your mouth begging his to be taken or the softness of your body that has enslaved him at an embarrassing speed.

You are worse than a circle of hell for him.

When you return to camp with your face pulled into an indecipherable expression, the boys study you in confusion noting also the strange attitude of Jimin who walks a few steps ahead of you.

The two of you seem farther apart than before and this certainly does not go unnoticed by the others, Yoongi tightens his lips as he reaches for the blond man who is walking back into the forest in search of more wood.

"Hey!" he exclaims behind his friend, "What happened at the lake?" he asks, Jimin snaps an eyebrow up.

"So you knew I was there?" he curls his upper lip over his teeth appearing menacing, but Yoongi's hard gaze doesn't lower.

"She's crazy about you, so it's clear that the fight stemmed from you, am I right?"

This simply rattles the blond more, "I didn't do anything at all, don't play cupid, man, because it won't stick with me."

"Or maybe it was a one-way conversation and you didn't even give her a chance to talk, you're such an asshole! She doesn't deserve a bastard like you, a guy who doesn't grab a chance like that when he has it at his fingertips," Yoongi blurts out, starting to turn back, but those words turn on a red flag in the younger boy who grabs the older one by the leather vest.

"And what would you like to do, Yoongi? Seize the opportunity yourself? I've seen how you watch her pretend to gather herbs for your infusions," at which point Yoongi chuckles wryly, his black eyes twinkling.

"I won't lie, I like her. But I also know to whom her heart belongs, and as a doctor I can well say that if you continue to keep her on the edge like you're doing now, that heart will get sick," he sighs, flinching, "Don't make me punch you, Jimin... you're no fool."

"I'm a criminal and she's a princess," he says without emotion on his handsome face, Yoongi snorts as he rolls his eyes.

"You are her hero, the crown wants her dead and you saved her, now she's a woman like any other and nothing forbids you to be with her," clarifies the older man with a raised eyebrow, as he walks away Jimin remains frozen in place.

‘She's a woman like any other.’

No, you are not like all the others, you are his princess and will remain so forever, which is precisely why he cannot allow another man to lay his hands on you.

Abandoning himself against the bark of an old tree he wonders if being with you would be worth it as a form of protection, he would never hurt you and would ensure you protection for life, the very idea of giving you his love has always terrified him, anyone who ever loved him is dead and he wouldn't want anything horrible to happen to you because of him, but now things have changed, you need him and he... needs you.

He finds you sitting in front of the fire, you're focused on the crackling flames, and if you notice his presence, you don't show it at all, you pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

Your thoughtful, melancholy expression suggests to him that you are still remembering the events of a few hours ago, recognizing that he was a real jerk for the way he treated you earlier, kissing you like a lover and then rejecting you like a cheap whore. He still feels ashamed and makes sure that each of his friends is asleep in their own tent before sitting silently next to you.

He hears you wince a little and out of the corner of his eye notices you turn your head away, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He smiles slightly, even as a child when you were offended by something you would puff up your cheeks and turn your head to the side, just as you are doing now.

Yes, you are still his lovely princess.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, moving a few millimeters closer to you, "I shouldn't have spoken to you and I especially shouldn't have touched you like that."

You frown in annoyance, snorting slightly through your nose.

"I don't object to the way you touched me, but you should keep quiet a little more," you mutter venomously, "You have the hands of an angel, but the tongue of a devil," you say casting a glance at his hands, you see the wounds and your heart sinks, you want to kiss them and curse that thought.

Those words trigger two completely different reactions in Jimin, on the one hand they help make him feel guilty, on the other he finds himself smiling internally, because you really don't know how devilish his tongue can be, if used in the right way.

"And you a mermaid's lips," he says taking your chin between two fingers, staring at you with such intensity that you feel naked.

He mirrors himself in your glossy irises and sighs, "Forgive me, after so many years of believing I'm not right for you, I forgot the most important thing."

"The most important thing?"

"Yes, you."

You gasp in surprise, registering his words only after a few moments of unbearable silence.

"You're saying that..."

"I am saying that I want to stay by your side, to be your protector and also your lover, if you will still allow me to be, Y/N."

His irises as clear as the waters of the lake gently brush against you, you feel your eyes tingling, and before he can see the tears streaming down your face you rush toward him, embracing him as if your life depended on it.

In a way it does, because without Jimin, your last piece of happiness that endures from childhood and which you have finally found again, you would have wandered in the void of loneliness for who knows how long.

You think back to your parents, to Harun, to all that you have lost and come to the conclusion that you were not yet ready to lose Jimin too, but he is here. You smile, pulling up with your nose before resting your lips on the boy's soft ones, who more than willingly accepts to surrender himself in your arms that are as small as they are warm and that scream familiarity.

"So you haven't forgotten me," you whisper, pulling away slightly, the blond shakes his head, snorting.

"Never, I tried to protect you by keeping you away from me, the king wants me dangling on a rope ... or at least it was until you made the mistake of saving me" he utters the last words with a note of reproach in his voice, staring at you sternly for the way you put yourself in danger.

But you don't lower your gaze, you won't feel guilty for saving the man you love.

"Now the two of us are here, together, do you want to blame me so much?" you murmur softly and his heart melts like snow in the sun.

He shakes his head, no, he cannot blame you. He, too, for love has made foolish and terrible decisions, and he will not let go of the chance to make up for all the pain he has caused you.

"I could never," he hisses almost painfully, closing his eyes as your fingers graze his hair and his lips reach for you, snapping another kiss.

You let him embrace you and he hold the back of your neck with one hand as he tries to deepen your contact, making it more intimate and slower than the more feverish kisses the two of you exchanged at the lake.

Your heart vibrates like the wings of a hummingbird, happy to give yourself in that way to the one man you have always loved and whom you know for certain you will love all your life. You would never have agreed to an arranged marriage; you hoped with all your heart that your uncle would never find a suitable suitor for you, and fortunately it did.

A commotion from one of the seven tents surprises you both suddenly, you separate slightly and cast a glance toward Namjoon's tent.

"He must have dropped one of his swords," Jimin mutters irritably, you, on the other hand, are traveling with your imagination, imagining sharing the tent with Jimin for the first time and blushing, since you were rescued the boys have taken turns to stand guard and let you have their little station, although strangely enough Jimin's guard duty was lasting for too many days, and as a result you have always used his bed made of furs and straw. Not quite like the one in your room at the palace, but by now you were well used to it,  considering the tower where your uncle locked you up.

"Come with me," he offers you his hand and you stare at it for a few moments, before extending yours and linking your fingers in a secure grip, "I know a place a little more... peaceful" the word slips between his teeth persuasively, you don't know what will happen tonight, but if he asked you to throw yourself off a mountain, you would do it as long as he stayed by your side at all times.

"Is it far?" you ask raising your skirt slightly, trying not to trip over tree roots and stones.

The blond looks ahead without letting go of your hand, "Just a little bit" he turns to you with his laughing eyes and you are enchanted at their color, he is lighter and more affectionate, he almost looks like that child Jimin you have missed so much.

You walk just enough to reach the thick, lumpy roots of a large tree, its branches entirely covering the night sky that until moments before was towering over you with its stars.

"Jimin... is ..." you try to say, but there is really no doubt.

The man nods.

"We are inside the lovers' forest, Y/N... this is the tree where according to legend their marriage was celebrated."

You look around, almost hoping to see the blooming arch where the first king and queen of your kingdom were married, eventually giving birth to your dynasty, but you see none of it, disappointed to realize that it is just a clearing of grass and flowers that seems to bow its head to the great tree that towers above it all.

"That's not how the stories described the place," you mumble slightly, your mother and Harun's stories spoke of magical creatures as spectators, flowers of every color and every shade decorating the lawn and the guests' walnut chairs, not to mention precisely the large archway on which roses and climbing plants had grown in honor of the two newlyweds.

You hear Jimin chuckle behind you, his hands encircle your hips and your back rests against his chest, you feel his warm breath on your neck, and goose bumps cause you to shiver.

"I never believed those stories and you know it," he says in a clear, amused tone, "But as I grew older I realized that something really happened here," he whispers in your ear.

With an elegant hand he lifts your chin slightly, bringing your gaze to the trunk of the large tree, you sharpen your vision and finally notice them.

"Runes?"

"Runes," the boy confirms, "This is the Lignum Vitae, the tree of life according to the legends, little princess," he chuckles as he turns away, his leather boots hardly audible among the uncultivated grass and damp earth.

"You don't believe that either?" you snort with a smile, you know you've always been the one to believe in everything your country's legends have handed down, but you would expect some cooperation from him, after all, he was the one who brought you here.

"I don't believe in magic, but I believe that lovers gathered here to bring offspring into the world, relying precisely on this tree," he explains with a shrug.

In fact, talking about a marriage in the stories was much easier if you wanted to tell something about the origin of the royal family to innocent children.

"They succeeded, didn't they? Look at me!" you laugh, pointing with a little bow, and Jimin does, looking at you with an affection and love that until morning he jealously kept to himself.

He walks to the tree and touches the runic symbols gently, in his mind an idea takes an increasingly clear and tantalizing shape.

"If magic really existed and we strengthened our ties to the tree, would everything fall back into place?" he wonders softly with furrowed brows, not wincing when you hug him from behind, as if expecting your closeness.

"We cannot get back what was taken from us, Jimin... even magic is useless in the face of death," your hands are intertwined over his heart, you feel it beating hard and fast, like a free and powerful horse.

"Life is what interests me," he admits, turning toward you.

He takes a few steps forward and you are forced to take as many steps backward, you don't see one of the raised roots of the tree and fall back with a little yelp, Jimin is quick to catch you before you can hit your head, and you both square off with wide-eyed stares.

"If I asked you to give me the gift of a child, here and now, what would your answer be?" he asks seriously.

You don't think about it for a single moment.

"I would answer that it is one of the desires that bind me to you, Jimin."

Another kiss comes, followed by another and another, his mouth demanding yours with such need that it seems almost savage, as if he wants to feed on you after all the years spent lusting after you in the shadows, fleeing like a wanted man of the worst kind.

He accompanies you on the damp grass and reacquaints himself with your neck, using the softness of his rosy lips to tease your tender skin, with the tips of his pearly teeth biting it lightly, and this causes an outcropping of dark, purple stains along the column of your throat, amused at imagining how others might react the next day once they set their gaze on you.

You don't even care, his attentions are a novelty, you welcome his mouth and tongue on your body as a blessing, you wouldn't turn him away from you for anything in the world, let them accuse you of being a prostitute, you and Jimin know the truth, which is that your body and soul have always belonged to the blond and no one has ever touched you as he is doing.

When he gets to the modest bodice of your dress you do something that must be strange to him, or at least you sense this from his gaze when you lift your skirt and stand helpless in his hands, like one of the wooden logs he cuts daily.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a furrowed brow.

Agitation clouds your cheeks, what's wrong?

"You said you want a baby," you say almost shyly, perhaps you misunderstood? But no, he had made it clear earlier....

"I did say that, but I don't understand why you just lifted up your skirt without responding to my caresses and now you stand still" his doubtful expression embarrasses you, that's how educators told you to do it, "Forgive me, my request was too bold."

"No!" you immediately exclaim, "I want to, only I was told to do it this way."

You see his nostrils flare to snort with irritation.

"Right...you've been locked in a castle full of soulless puppets" he shakes his head, "But that's not how I want to take you, Y/N, I prefer you receptive" he whispers persuasively, "Just like today at the lake" he continues, stroking the bare skin of your legs, pushing into your soft inner thighs, you feel your belly tighten heatedly.

"Let's leave certain unnecessary distances to those old nobles," he goes on, kissing you behind your ear, a tremor shakes you when his lips wrap around your earlobe, licking it with the tip of his tongue, "Take off your bodice, love, show me what a good girl you are, hmm?"

You nod without a drop of saliva in your mouth, Jimin's tongue hisses like a snake and you are drawn to his drawling words, you are his forbidden fruit and he can't wait to bite you and find out how sweet you can be and how deliciously you can bleed.

Each button that leaves a buttonhole is a soft kiss from him over the light blouse that still holds your breasts, mentally moaning the blond curses himself for not enjoying your eager body sooner and perfect for his fingers.

He would like to tear off your clothes instantly, but he restrains himself, how would you return to others without instigating some desire in them?. No, he is gentle when even the last garment leaves you and he can finally quiver at the sight of your naked body shivering under the icy night air, or perhaps it is his eyes that make you tremble?

He lifts himself off your body and tosses his tunic to the side, your eyes drink in the sight of his hard chest and the slight hair that descends to his private parts, which you did not see that morning, but you distinctly felt on your warm intimacy, and the air escapes your lungs when you notice something that in the sunlight has strangely escaped you, perhaps because you have tried not to stare at him too much, his chest is studded with small, shiny white lines, they are thin and almost intangible, but they are there.

You brush those lines with a tentative finger, feeling the reliefs with a question mark in mind, and in doing so his skin twitches, "What are these?" you ask gently, Jimin gives a small smile and kisses the knuckles of your hand.

"Every day spent without you," he pronounces solemnly, the wind rattles the leaves of the large tree and for a few moments it is as if you feel it voice whispering over the blond man's words. You chase away the feeling and embrace the boy once more with a tear running down your cheek. You were a fool to believe that he had abandoned you when all he had done was think about you.

You have a feeling that the air is warmer now that his head is buried in the hollow of your breasts, his moist tongue playing with the tip of a nipple initially causing a strange tickle in the center of your chest before a glowing sensation slips between your legs, making you blaze with desire, it's all more direct without your petticoat and you love every second of it.

You bite your lower lip, holding back a moan louder than your sighs, you don't want it to go away again, but it's stronger than you when the delicious sting of a bite makes your thighs tremble around his bare hips, you feel the length of his cock twitch against your skin, it's heavy and it arouses you to know that you have that effect on him, at that thought the wetness descends between your thighs against your will and you try to hide, but Jimin can read a woman's body and you are still too inexperienced to go unnoticed by a hunter like him.

"It's normal" he breathes on your lips imparting another deep kiss, "It means you like it" the tip of his nose rubs against yours trying to soothe you, your eyes fly to his cock when he lifts a little to settle himself better and all the blood rushes to your head, you don't know whether from the shame of seeing a naked man or from the incredible wave of pleasure that washes over you at noticing how thick and needy he looks, there is white liquid at the tip, dripping thickly down his veiny length that seems to contract under your curious and hungry eyes.

Then a thought alarms you, "Does it all have to go in there?" you point to your intimacy, though you don't know for sure, your educators had been vague and you never touched yourself, sometimes you felt the need as you imagined what an adult Jimin might look like, but you never dared to break the imposed rules.

A princess does not do such things as a street woman.

Yet, that's exactly where Jimin caresses you, his fingers dance over your moist folds with mastery and you block the instinct to close your legs, as you might when with his thumb he rolls over a spot that gives you particularly intense and wonderful sensations, "Jimin!" you grab his wrist trying to slow down his devilish circles, but your pelvis continues to chase pleasure against your will, you throw your head back and Jimin kisses the line of your jaw as if it is impossible for him to stop kissing you in any way.

"This is called the clit, love," you hear him smile, "And this is where I'm going to go all in...my cock will go into your sweet little pussy, Y/N," he hums moving his fingers to your needy slit, entering lightly with his light fingertips, you gasp at his sudden dirty language but find that you like it, it makes you feel desired.

You feel his fingers move inside you as his thumb continues to caress your clit, your lower abdomen trembles and stutters in despair with each jolt of pleasure, your teary eyes are lost in the immensity of the tree that seems to silently observe what is happening.

Jimin never goes beyond the elastic barrier he senses beyond your entrance, he merely teases you within inches of your entrance and it is amazing how liquid and copious your pleasure flows past his wrist until it drips onto the grass. His instincts are stronger than he is, he must have a taste of your sweetness and you abruptly hold your breath when his tongue catches another wave of your honeyed essence, you are devastating to his taste buds and he wants more, you find yourself crying and contracting your hips as you try to escape his mouth, he devours you by insisting on your scarlet pearl and when more drops of pleasure come he runs to lick them away from your slit, he seems to be going crazy or maybe he is.

"Stop, Jimin... Stop-oh!" you stiffen instantly when a firmer lick shakes your body and makes you explode in such pleasure that you squint and cry.

"Ssssh, princess" you feel Jimin's lips gathering your tears before placing a kiss at the corner of your stammering mouth; his lips are wet and glossy; he is the embodiment of sin.

He is still breathing down your neck as the thickness of his cock begins to furrow your folds to gather as much moisture as possible, the thick, shiny tip of his cock swirls around your slit and you reflexively contract your pussy muscles, it is almost funny how despite the pleasure that has shocked you, your pussy still tries to invite him inside her.

"It's going to hurt, my love" he warns you with a sharp breath, you nod immediately, this part has been repeated to you many times by those women whose job it was to instruct you in your duties as a wife, though none of them had ever told you that you could experience such pleasure that you would be left gasping for breath.

"I know," you smile, but Jimin seems a little anxious.

"It will be short-lived, I'll be gentle and-" you caress his face affectionately, you know that too, he would never intentionally hurt you.

"And I will have your baby," your heart warms every time you think about it, a baby with the same cheeks and eyes as Jimin? You would love him infinitely, Jimin melts into a real smile.

"Ours."

He intertwines a hand with yours as he prepares to enter and the next thrust makes your eyes widen, he is incredibly slow and gentle, but you have never had anything inside you before and you feel all too clearly his length piercing and widening your inner walls at his will, Jimin is breathing shallowly with sweat beading on his forehead in an attempt to keep calm, you hold him deliciously and you are extraordinarily beautiful as you stare at him with your eyes lost and your lips half-closed and swollen from his kisses.

"I-It doesn't hurt, don't worry, my love," you manage to murmur with a smile, that's right, it doesn't hurt.

It's just a strange sensation, the stretch stings and tingles, but it's nothing unbearable or terrible as you've been led to believe all your life.

Or maybe Jimin is a very good lover, whispers a little voice in your head.

Even so, you feel something warm dripping from your slit after a more direct lunge, running down one of your thighs and ending up on the damp grass; it is your blood, but you pay no attention to it, just as you pay no attention to the quick absorption of the earth near the tree roots.

The blond man nods, but he reaches down again to take a nipple in your mouth, massaging your breast as if he expects milk to come out of it already, your clitoris twitching pleasantly and his cock sliding more sinuously, now you can feel it tapping deeper and deeper, you can almost feel it in your belly and you accompany his thrusts by moving against him, you cling to his back with your fingernails, you hear him moan loudly and that sound excites you, you wonder if...

Before you even think, your hand slides over his chest and you rotate your thumb around one of his smaller, darker nipples, he stiffens with a hoarse sound in his throat and the intensity of his thrusts increases, he clings desperately to you as you tease him again, encircling his hips with your legs.

In the clearing the obscene sounds of your relationship are lost in the wind, the leaves of the tree moving gently almost as if blessing your union.

You kiss him once more and let his tongue take over your mouth, abandoning his deep sighs in you, your walls begin to vibrate ecstatically each time his cock repeatedly plows through them, your belly heats up and you squeeze his swollen length into your pussy, preventing him from leaving at all, Jimin increases his jet speed, now sure of the pleasure that envelops you like a bubble and crushes you against his body, he rides the waves of lust like a stallion, your lungs run out of breath and the world swirls around you.

"We're going to have a baby," he growls decisively, his once ice-blue eyes now a deep electric blue, "And I'm going to bring your uncle's head to you, love," he announces, repeatedly pounding into you at a more assertive and rough pace, his pleasure is snaking incandescently, he can't wait to cum inside you and fill you to the last drop, you will surely accept him as a good wife should.

You tremble with panting and his fierce lunges, praying that he will never leave you, your core is on fire, your walls wrap around him with desperation, and your clit is ready again to let you go in a spiral of enjoyment. You want it all, you yearn for it, you need it, you would kill for it all.

Making love with Jimin.

Yes.

Carrying his child.

Yes.

Having your uncle's head on a silver platter.

Yes.

You hold him in your arms as the first hot jet is shot inside you, he is still buried between your legs as he continues to come, you whimper and at yet another strand of his seed you stiffen, you open your mouth wide in a mute sound as you come with no more strength.

Your body is shaken, unable to recover and you don't understand why, you try to escape when Jimin comes out of your sweet depths, but he blocks you with his weight.

You stare at him shocked when he returns with his hand to your pussy, repeatedly rubbing your perky, still rigid pearl, you shake your head.

"No, it's too much!" you cry clutching your legs, but he continues fearlessly, "I can't do it," you gasp pleadingly.

"It's what you need, honey" he murmurs in your ear, "You're so sensitive you don't realize you need another orgasm to soothe your body, I should have fed you earlier like this, sweet little thing" he sighs with his wrist locked between your thighs, bliss finally comes in little spurts of pleasure that make you gasp and Jimin's thumb stops torturing you, you sag against him without strength, feeling nothing but the vibrations of your intimacy still reliving the intensity and strength of his presence.

"Thank you," you say turning a little toward him, who stares at you with all the love he has for you, "For everything."

But the blond man shakes his head, "You did it all, my princess, I just waited for you" you hear regret in his tone of voice and you're sorry, you don't want him to think back to all the time that kept you apart, now you're together and that's all that matters.

"We will be fine now," you nod.

"When I regain the kingdom" a kiss, "Our baby will be born" another kiss, "And I'll have the king's head to make you a gift" he snaps an even more intense kiss, "We'll be even better, to love you this and more, Y/N" he stares at you with devotion and you lose a beat.

"And I want it, I want it all, Jimin" you let yourself be cradled in your love's embrace and you notice a flash of lightning in passing, you widen your eyes and turn toward the big tree.

It was only an instant, but you swear you saw the runic symbols glow gold.

You kiss Jimin's neck with a smile, foretasting a flood of sweet happenings for both of you, you feel your lap throb gently and you know, a new dynasty is about to be brought into the world.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[roronoaswifey]

BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

ೃ⁀➷cw. sexual content, mentions of substance consumption, foul language, slight infidelity, both reader and zoro got their names tatted on them, y’all got a baby girl, this isn’t a smutty as i has planned for it to be ngl

ೃ⁀➷zuha’s note. forever pushing lora’s zoro and his bruk ass pickup truck agenda .

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, despite knowing you called things off with him weeks prior to finding out about your pregnancy, still knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you and his four year old daughter. shows up to your place on unexpected days, talking bout “wanted to see my babygirl, ‘s there an issue?”, crashes overnight on the couch because “the truck’s engine’s busted” or “‘s too dark outside and i left my glasses back home”. it’s terrible habits but he seems to always convince you to let him stay by the grin on your daughter’s chubby cheeks whenever she smells the scent of pancakes, eggs and bacon in the air with her favorite side of fresh fruit.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who always shows up to your daughter’s school events no matter the circumstance. he got work? somebody’ll take cover for his shift. truck broke down? nothin’ an uber won’t fix. he may arrive slightly late due to directional challenges, but he will still always show up. dressed in loose grey sweatpants with a white fitted tee and gold chain, he spots you dressed as classily as ever (bougie, he loved to call you) and notices your birkin bag saving a seat for him. he squeezes through the row and ignores the thirsty looks he receives, all in favour of sitting at your side, arm wrapped behind the seat of your chair and kisses your temple when you lean into his embrace.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who swings by every weekend to pick up his daughter for his turn of the rotation. if you ask him, he’d rather just stay over for the weekend and spend it with y’all three but he’s aware of your personal life outside of both him and your daughter, and complications (like whoever the fuck dropped you home that one friday night and gave you a cheek kiss when you’d asked him to stay a few hours with his baby) that can interfere in y’all’s relationship.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, on the occasions you let him spend the night over, always makes it up to you. it’s always the same routine—you tell him to crash on the couch and leave as soon as the rise of dawn awakens and yet he always ends up in the warmth of your bed, one leg propped up with two hands on your hips and fucks into you with precision. the sinful arch of your back and your whines as you beg him for more drive him insane, makes him miss you so much more than he’s willing to admit. though for now, he’s content in showing you how much he longs for you through plunging his dick deep in your guts and silencing your moans with his tongue down your throat (to his dismay, you make him pull out and finish on your back).

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who loves to spoil you and his baby. doesn’t have the highest paying income but no matter his salary, he’d be more than willing to spend 50% of it on the both of you. anything his daughter wants, she gets. he knows you can good and well afford for the both of you but he feels it’s his job to make sure you both live a soft life. no matter the reason—job promotion, birthdays, anniversaries, just for the fun of it— he’ll always want to gift you. he isn’t the best with words but he genuinely thanks the heavens that such a wonderful woman was able to bless him the greatest of gifts.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who freezes in shock the very first time his daughter asks him if he’s still in love with you. he forgets she was blessed with your intelligence, but such a pretty and chubby face smothered in chocolate syrup from her ice cream sundae on their weekly hangouts asking him if he still loves mommy the same way her classmate’s parents love each other makes him realize that these habits between you and him may badly affect y’all’s kid’s future. still, he sighs melancholy and lightly flicks her nose that scrunches up adorably, and while she huffs childishly a “papa!”, he tells himself he’s in long due of a conversation with you. “i do, princess, more than you could imagine.” he answers, though he isn’t sure if she heard him as she quickly stuffs her mouth full of the sugary dessert once more.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, for the first time in years, decides to actively start dating again. he quickly regrets his decision when he’s on a dinner date, faintly listening to some broad babble about whatever it is she’s talking about but realizing he genuinely cannot see this girl— or any other girl—in his distant future. he’s too busy thinking about the slight twitch in your eye when he’d let you know he would be on a date and may arrive later to pick up his baby. you asked him where he met said girl, and he honestly told you his work friend had set him up on a date. you wished him good luck and to not spare any details when he comes back, but he felt the strain in your fake smile. you’re too easy to read, he decided a while ago, or maybe he’s mastered the art of your deception. regardless, he regrets going on this date and regrets even further when he lets her blow him off in his truck, especially since he never got to finish his load before dropping her off home.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who still invites you and his baby over to his parents’ place whenever there’s any family cookout. terra loves you and her granddaughter, always bombarding zoro with questions whenever he goes to visit. she showers you and her granddaughter with so much love, calls you her daughter despite you and zoro having broken up years ago. she checks on you occasionally, lets you know you’re always welcomed in her home despite everything. she spoils her only granddaughter with gifts and treats and love, takes her on walks and offers to even let her sleepover at her place for the weekends. zoro takes note of that offer, especially since y’all’s anniversary is approaching round the corner.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who brings you to the very first restaurant y’all had y’all first date at, years ago. on the roof patio of the five star restaurant, at the same table, he sees how your eyes sparkle in admiration at his efforts to recreate one of y’all’s most memorable moments in your past relationship. he’s dressed in the fanciest button up and slacks with dress shoes he owns, brings you bouquets of your favorite flowers and as always, pays for your meal. the date goes smoothly, as does most things you guys do, and he walks you back to his truck, hand in hand with the moonlight bouncing off the irises of your eyes. you catch him staring and he’s swears he’s fallen so deeply in love with you— or maybe he never truly stopped. it’s a scary but thrilling feeling, and from the heat rising on your cheeks and your shy gaze, he knows you feel the same. he can’t help but cup your face with one big hand and capture your lips in a sensual kiss, smiling when he feels you melt in his hold. you pull away shyly, nuzzling your nose into his and zoro swears on his mom he would run across the globe back and forth on a leg, go to hell and back, just to have you back in his graces.

needed to get this out of my drafts 🗿.

[naffeclipse]

Packmates

Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

This is such a delightful little fic requested by @counterbalance involving Orca!Eclipse having a little heart-to-heart with Michael and Vanessa with, of course, Y/N overseeing it! It's very cathartic and sweet to see all of these characters talk to each other after everything that has happened. I hope you enjoy!

———

Spring in the Arctic is frigid. No flowers bloom along the frozen land. Sea smoke sends pale wisps into the rosy pink dawn light. Jutting mounts of hills and ice jag the landscape as you slip closer and closer to the edge of the snow-dotted ocean. 

You tuck your scarlet wool scarf tighter around your throat. Goggles and a hood protect your face and eyes from the wicked air so cold, it brandishes itself like a knife against exposed skin. 

The darkness of a blistering cold night in the polar region lifts away, and the sweet, soft light of a new, short day begins. Slowly, the days will get longer and longer, until there is only the hint of dusk before it brightens all over again. You marvel at the sunlight on the glittering frozen ground. The way it refracts upon the tips of waves as the ocean churns slowly in its below-zero temperature state. 

All of this is no matter to an orca siren. Eclipse has never been cold. Only alone.

That will change.

You trek across the plain with company. It’s taken you a few days to prepare Eclipse to meet your packmates as he refers to them properly. He’s not wrong. Michael and Vanessa form your little tightly knit group, forged by comradery from first being stuck in such a stark landscape in a tiny base, to then enduring the mysterious uncertainty of sirens and the lingering presence of those who hunted them. 

They tried to protect you and you protected them. On your left, Michael’s head is on a swivel. He strains his neck as he peers down into the deep and dark indigo waters as if he might spy Eclipse before he’s ready to emerge. His gloved hands clench, held in front of him as if a harpoon might materialize and drop into his waiting palms. The fur of his dark gray parka is red, pushed by the slight breeze as if he were an Arctic fox roaming, briskly attempting to keep away from a much larger threat.

Vanessa walks so close to you on your other side that her shoulder repeatedly brushes against your own with the thick scratch of durable fabric from your Arctic gear echoing. Her face repeatedly turns to you. A black aviator hat protects her head from the fierce cold, the white fur along the flops of her head attire serving to keep her safe and warm. She anxiously moves her arms. You wonder if she intends to hug you or drag you back to base—either way, she seems to want to grab onto you tightly, as if you might fall through the thick ice now. 

They have their reasons to fear, but it’s alright now. Eclipse isn’t going to hurt anyone.

Seeing is believing, it seems, as you lead them towards the icy coast. The water reveals a deeper teal hue to its soft waves and lapping against the edge of the sea as the sun glares across the horizon. You squint against the brightness. Holding up a hand to help shield your gaze, you search the salty edge of the ocean.

Eclipse said he would meet them. He said he wants to know your packmates better.

“Stay here,” you say softly.

Michael’s shoulders become rigid. His eyes, verdant and almost wild, like a creature about to snap with its fangs, follow you in anticipation.

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

You turn back, smiling despite how well your Arctic gear covers you up. 

“I am. It’s okay, Michael.” In a firmer tone, you remind, “You said you would give him a chance.”

Inhaling deeply, he dips his chin once. “I did. But he’s still a siren.”

“And you’re a human who had a harpoon.” You face him, no longer shrinking in his presence. There are no more secrets, no more reasons to protect each other from the truth. You love Eclipse. That should be enough for Michael but it’s going to take a little more time.

But he’ll see.

“We don’t have them now,” Vanessa says. She crosses her arms in what might have been a pout but her gloved hands grip herself anxiously. “It—He can still sing.”

“He won’t. He promised me he wouldn’t.” You have to ask much of them, and winter isn’t enough time for change, but it’ll have to do. “Trust me.”

They can now. Michael and Vanessa glance at each other, reassuring and perhaps, reinspired by the other. 

You nod gratefully and turn back to the water. You kneel at its edge, searching for a tell-tale sign of a sharp dorsal fin or burning red flukes. He shouldn’t be bold—at least more than is excessive for him. You took great care to explain to him how wary Michael and Vanessa might be and that he needs to be on his best behavior. He promised but the way he held you close in an embrace left a grain of doubt in your mind.

In the distant dark teal of the Arctic Ocean, you spy the beautiful, red-tipped dorsal fin of an orca siren. Eclipse. He swims slowly, approaching in the way a shark might curiously regard fresh bait while it’s not currently hungry. You wait. In the corner of your vision, Michael and Vanessa tense. You remain, hands on your legs, inhaling the frost-bitten scent of the wind before the dorsal fin dips below.

Right before you, where ice meets water, Eclipse emerges dripping wet, maw wide open in a grin. His eyes burn through the chilled landscape. One yellow and one red eye greet you with a radiant wonder. His expression softens. Your heart warms as he reaches for you, black-tipped claws dripping wet.

“Happy day, birdie,” he singsongs in a low rumble of harmonics. 

His hands brush your gloved palms, and you hear a strange rush of steps behind you. Eclipse’s eyes narrow. He latches onto your wrists just as arms encircle you from behind, one over your shoulder, and another around your waist, and a breathless sound of panic touches the back of your hood. You look down to find the off-white garb of Vanessa’s Arctic gear clinging to you, her gloves twisting deeply into your coat.

“Vanessa,” Michael says, his tone unreadable. He steps closer just as Eclipse growls.

“It’s okay,” you pipe up over everyone. “We’re fine, everyone’s fine.”

Tensions soar as you slowly turn your head back to find Vanessa wide-eyed and breathless. Her gaze is locked onto Eclipse. A rumble on the threat of a snarl vibrates through Eclipse’s chest. Vanessa holds you tighter.

“Eclipse, will you let go of me?” You level him with a pointed stare. “I want to introduce you to my packmates.”

Eclipse’s teeth flash. His array of head frills, flaring in dark oranges and deep reds, cut through the blues and whites of the Arctic in his agitation. 

“Eclipse,” you say softly, “Let me go. Just for a moment.”

His gaze drops back to you. You are firm, and unyielding as he lowers his shoulders. A softness returns to his feature. Though he appears pained to release your wrists, his claws slip away. 

Vanessa’s death grip upon you loosens in the slightest.

“Vanessa, this is Eclipse.” You pat her arms once. “He’s not taking me anyway. You can stop grabbing me now.”

She drags in a ragged breath. She slowly blinks, her green eyes returning to a more sensible state as she at last withdraws her arms from around you. You pat her arm again. Yet, she sits close beside you, trembling with anticipation. 

Gently, you gesture towards her, “Eclipse, this is my packmate, Vanessa.”

He tilts his head. Hiding his teeth, he smiles. “Hello.”

A stare follows from Vanessa, caught somewhere before wariness and the strangeness of an orca siren speaking to her. Was she expecting a monstrous grable to leave his lips or perhaps a wicked song? 

“Hi.” she finally decides. She glances at you in confusion for a moment. 

Oh, right. Packmate. You’ll explain that later.

“Eclipse,” you then hold your hand out beyond Vanessa to Michael. He still stands on his feet, unwilling or unable to join you guys on the ice that the orca siren leans his arms against. “This is Michael.”

Eclipse’s eyes sharpen as if the tip of an icicle. He lifts his hand. Michael tenses, his fists balling into fists.

“You are the child of the human who took away my pod, my family,” his deep voice is abysmal with the accusations. “I thought you would be worse.”

Michael turns hard as stone. Tension laces his jaw as he clenches tightly. Your heart skips a beat, glancing sharply between the two.

Eclipse snarls. “Your father killed my mother.”

“Sirens are dangerous,” Michael retorts, his shoulders braced for an impact that you refuse to see.

“Eclipse, you said you would be good to my pack,” you say sharply. You reach out and touch the back of Eclipse’s slick, sheeny hand.

He pauses, his eyes flashing to you. His claws quickly curl around your wrist. 

“I am,” he says, but he lowers his voice. 

Vanessa tenses, her hand reaching to hook around the crook of your arm. Desperation fills you to the brim.

“Please, there’s been enough fighting and hatred.” You look between all three of them. “You all have suffered, haven’t you?”

You steely hold Michael’s gaze. His expression morphs between molten rage and seething hatred before melting into something less bitter. You turn on Eclipse. His expression is sharp, edged with rime and fangs. You squeeze his hand. He glances down at your small gloved fingers in his palm. Slowly, he breathes out a huff of misty air. When you turn to Vanessa, her head is already bowed. Her grip upon your arm is no longer a means to keep you close, but to anchor herself.

“My sister,” Michael says, then stops. He struggles for a moment before looking at Eclipse—truly looking at Eclipse for the first time. “My sister is gone because of my father.”

The beginnings of a snarl pulling over his teeth stop. Eclipse’s grip around your hand becomes gentle. A low sound of sympathy escapes him in a warble.

“Afton let my mother be taken by a siren.” Vanessa’s voice is so small, you almost don’t catch it. “He sacrificed her for the sake of his studies.”

Her fingers dig into your coat. You wish you had another hand so you might comfort her. 

Eclipse looks at your other packmate, much more gentle as he leans closer as if to console her. Then, for a moment, he’s pierced with a strange expression. He leans away. His hand slips out of yours as he clenches his hands. His claws rake over the ice.

“Did the siren take your mother as a mate?”

Vanessa’s head lifts. Her mouth contorts as if her very muscles are paralyzed before she says gravelly, “I think so.”

Eclipse’s gaze falls over you. A memory of a time of being stolen away, held underwater, and forced to swim leaves you with a chill. Eclipse, however, slowly inches his hand back to you, open and waiting, and you accept it again. His shiny black and white markings are still sea salt-slick. He whistles a soft sound.

“It is wicked to force your will upon another,” his voice is low, repentant. 

Michael and Vanessa share equal expressions of scrutiny and wonder. Perhaps you merely imagine the first shine of acceptance in their eyes, but it’s a start.

Visibly, they relax. Vanessa still holds to your elbow but her fingers are no longer hooking around you in the hope of keeping you from being reeled out. Gradually, Michael lowers himself onto one knee. He rests his arm on his leg and loses the tautness in his body. 

You hold tight to Eclipse’s fingers. You wish you could close the distance. It’s been a few days since you’ve returned to the Arctic and spent time with Eclipse, but you still yearn for more of him. It was a long and cold winter without your siren. 

Perhaps humans and sirens don’t have to stay enemies. Perhaps the past can die with the generation who couldn’t stop fighting. Maybe you all can be better, and happier.

“Eclipse, will you tell Vanessa what you told me before?” you nudge. You think it will sound better coming from a siren than from you. 

Straightening, Vanessa glances quizzically at you, then Eclipse as a few water droplets fall from his frills.

“Your mother may be alive.” He turns towards the sea without releasing your hand. “She may be out there. I can help find her if that is something you wish.”

A ripple of shock crosses your friend’s expression. Of course, you and Michael promised to help search for her mother now that she understood what may have become of her. This is one of your motivations for returning to the Arctic. Vanessa is almost speechless. You have never seen her emotional before, but you wonder if she may weep. Is she happy or angry that a siren would offer such a thing to her? Knowing what happened to her mother?

“You know where she is?” she asks.

“No,” Eclipse corrects promptly, “but I can aid in your search. I know these waters. I have swam them all my life. If she is here, I can locate her.”

She glances at you, her eyes shining. You smile reassuringly. Slowly, she turns to Michael. His expression is firm and difficult to read, but he gives a slight nod. 

This might not end up how you wish it would, but it’s something. It’s hope—a possible answer after never having her mother all of her life. You wonder what kind of tail her mother could possess, and shiver as you glance down to your legs covered in thick Arctic gear.

“I—Yes,” Vanessa says at last. She faces Eclipse. “I would owe you everything if you helped me find her.”

A wide grin splits the crescent marking of his face. Just below the water and beyond the edge of ice you sit upon, his tail snaps to one side.

“No need. I want nothing more than what I have.” He squeezes your hands. His claws carefully brush over the fabric of your gloves as your heart swells with pride. 

You face him. Gently tugging yourself free of Vanessa’s grip, her hold loosens and she lets you go, her hand hanging in the air while you close the distance between you and Eclipse. His arms open gladly. You enter his embrace. A spark of shyness flies through you, never having an audience before to witness the affection between you and the orca siren.

Eclipse makes you forget all else as he hums soothingly. He nuzzles softly along your hood, pushing your goggles up to touch the heat of your skin. You close your eyes. He squanders not the opportunity to press a slick kiss to one eyelid, then the other. You breathe softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him.

“I thought you would know there is no need to thank me,” he rumbles with mirth, “but I still enjoy it.”

You pull back and touch his cheek. He leans into it before you remember who is present. You turn back to Michael and Vanessa and bashfully ask where they should start looking first.

[vienssunshine]

Obviously It's Cold in the Wintertime

pairing: Josh Washington x gn reader sfw word count: 2.3k alternate universe: no Josh prank author’s comment: Until Dawn is the ideal choice for one of my favorite tropes: needing to be close for warmth/body heat.

The lodge is freezing.

You hold the quilt tight to your shivering body, trying to pull it closer than it already is, but the winter air is uncaring. It slips under your quilt and settles over you like an additional blanket, not one of comfort, but ice.

The only clothes you packed to face the harsh winter up on the mountain were ones you’d wear outside, like your puffer jacket or beanie. You didn’t think you’d need to prepare for the weather inside as well, and your choice of sleepwear—athletic shorts and a baggy t-shirt—reflects that.

You wish Josh had reminded you that despite his family’s profuse wealth, their lodge has no central heating. But, you can’t blame him for your mistake, and he's had a lot going on anyway. Regardless, you’ll still have to bother him about your situation because, despite your best efforts, it's impossible to fall asleep like this.  

Sitting up in your bed, you pull the quilt off your legs, removing the little warmth it provided. There’s a relief, though fleeting, from the pervasive cold when a tingle of excitement shoots down your spine from knowing you’re about to go see Josh, alone, and at night.  

Your hand reaches out into the dark to search the top of the nightstand for your phone, finding and turning it on after a few seconds of fumbling around. You click on the phone's flashlight—there’s no electricity in this place, either—and use it to find your slippers and the guest room door. 

The glow from your phone does little to demystify the dark, empty void staring back at you when you pull the door open. It’s an intimidating task, to navigate the endless twists, turns, and, according to Josh, secret passages of the lodge. Thankfully, the dusty glass of the windows allows the deep blue of the night sky to seep into the cabin and illuminate the general silhouette of things like the main staircase and the circular chandelier hanging above you. 

You make your way through the living room, using your phone to avoid obstacles like couches and tables, and head up the tall staircase. Your footsteps echo through the open air as you climb, but aren’t loud enough to wake anybody up. 

Keeping close to the handrail lining the hallway, you walk down to the last door, Josh’s door, and place a few soft knocks on it.

You hear his voice through the wood. “Yeah?” 

He's awake, perfect. You creak the door open and slip into the room. “Hey, it’s me.” 

“Oh, what a nice surprise,” Josh says, grinning. You return the smile.

You turn off your phone flashlight and walk into his room, having to squint to see where you’re going in the dim light. Josh is sitting on his bed, his back relaxed on a large pillow pressed against the headboard. He’s in pajamas too, a black sweatshirt and flannel pants. The only source of light in the room is a movie projected onto the wall by an old-timey camera set up by his side of the bed. He flicks a button on the top of the camera, pausing the movie, and turns to you. 

“So, what can I do for you?” he asks. 

“Hmm?”

Josh tilts his head, “There must be some reason you’re in my room at,” he glances at his phone, “two in the morning.” 

“Oh, right. I came to see if you had any extra blankets or something? It’s, uh, really cold in my room.”

A mischievous smile. “Y’know, I bet I could help warm you up. No blankets necessary.” 

“I’m serious, Josh,” you respond, rolling your eyes. Though you don’t betray it, his comment, cliché as it may be, sends a tingle similar to earlier up your back. 

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, throwing his hands up, “I’ll be serious.” 

“Thank you,” you respond. It’s not that you would mind if he kept flirting with you, it’s just that you need to warm up, you're barely able to feel your fingers.

Josh runs his eyes over you. “Well, no matter what I do, you’re still gonna be cold in that,” he says, giving your PJs a disapproving look. 

You shift your weight under his gaze. “Yeah, well, I forgot there’s no heat up here,” you say.

“Rookie mistake,” Josh laughs, standing up from his bed and walking around it to reach the dresser made of dark wood on the other side. He pulls the middle drawer open by its antique handles and takes one of his sweatshirts out, bringing it over to you. “This should help.”

As he hands it to you, your fingers brush his. “Wow, you do feel cold,” he remarks. 

“What, did you think I was lying?” you tease, giving him a light push. “Thanks for the sweatshirt.” 

“Yeah, of course,” he says, watching you pull it over your head.

The extra layer was a good call, you aren’t shaking anymore. You note another benefit of the sweatshirt: it smells just like him.

“That’s so much better,” you say, and a pleased smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “And the extra blankets? Are there any?” you ask. 

He rubs his neck, “Right, about that…”

“Oh, are there none in the lodge?” you say, holding the edges of the hoodie to your face, trying to warm your ears. 

“Well, no…see…” Josh says, “I already gave the extra blankets to Mike.”

You frown. Mike. Your friend group isn’t full of angels, but you have a particular dislike for Mr. Class President.

With a huff, you say, “I don’t see why you did that, I’m sure he and Jess can keep plenty warm together.”

“Mike said he needed all the blankets to make his room a cozy, romantic love den. His words, not mine. My hands were tied, I had to help a bro out.”

Your brows furrow, still baffled by how Mike managed to convince Josh to give him every single blanket there was to spare. That conniving, silver-tongued little-

“But hey,” Josh says, “You can just take some of mine.” He steps back and gestures to the bed with his hand. 

“I’m not taking your blankets, Josh,” you answer, despite how persuasive the chilled air is being.

“C’mon, you’re freezing,” he insists, picking your hand up from your side, “Your fingers are as cold as ice.” 

Unlike yours, his hand is warm. You press your lips together, your heart in your throat from a simple touch that feels nicer than it should.

“I’ll be fine,” you lie, pulling your hand away. “Really. I don’t want to take your blankets from you.” 

He looks at the bed, then you, the bed, and then back at you. “Okay, we can share instead,” he says with a shrug, as if his suggestion were no big deal.

Your eyes widen. “Um…are you serious?” you ask. 

“Didn’t I promise I was going to be serious from now on?” he says. When you don’t move, he continues, “Really, I don’t mind. I’d actually love to have someone to watch this movie with.” He smirks before finishing with, “If it’s not too scary for you.”

You scoff, self-consciousness forgotten. “I’m not scared of some movie.” 

“I don’t believe you,” he teases, sitting down on the bed and moving over to make space.

“Really,” you insist, “I’m not.” 

“Then come join me,” he says, patting the spot next to him.

Your eyes run over the soft bedding with the same caution you’d have for a battlefield. Then, a step forward takes you to the edge of the bed, and you lower yourself down onto the mattress. Josh waits until you kick off your slippers and slide under his comforter before unpausing the movie, a small, victorious smile on his lips. You’d usually be more annoyed, hating to lose, but gratitude takes over as the gentle warmth of the blankets begins to ease the edge of the cold off you.

Josh’s bed is huge, so you’re able to sit a reasonable distance away from him. You doubt a similar thought crosses his mind because, unlike you, he doesn’t seem to think sharing a bed is anything to be worked up about: he’s spread out on his side of the mattress, back against the pillows, hands behind his head.

You steal glances at him, noticing how his broad chest rises and falls with his gentle breaths. He looks so comfortable; it makes you want to close the distance, to have your body pressed to his side and your head resting on his warm chest. Sudden heat singes your ears and you look away from him. As far as you know, this is platonic, just a friend helping a friend keep warm. 

A gargled roar emits from the speaker. Though the volume is down, it’s still enough to draw your eyes to the blob monster displayed on the flickering projection. It’s closing in, bubbling and gurgling towards a damsel whose dress is caught on a tree branch. Even with all that action, the movie does little to distract you from the fact that the guy you have a thing for is tucked under the same sheets as you, only an arm’s reach away. 

“I’m surprised you’re up this late,” you comment, launching yourself out of your thoughts. “And watching a movie that’s not scary at all.”

“Just wait, the worst part hasn’t even happened yet,” he says, leaning over to give you a playful nudge. His eyes remain fixed on the flickering screen as he finishes responding. “And yeah, I couldn’t really fall asleep, so I put something on.” 

“Too cold for you, too?” you ask.

“Nah, temperature’s fine. It’s just, y’know, being up here again…”

Of course. You should have known. 

You look down to your hands in your lap. “It’s probably a lot. I’m sorry, Josh. Really.” 

“I appreciate it,” he says, letting out a deep breath as if he’s trying to exhale the weight on his chest. “I’m glad you’re all with me, it’s easier dealing with what happened.”

“We’re here for you.” You move a hand from your lap to his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m here for you. Anything, Josh.” 

“Thank you,” he says, his hand covering yours. “It means a lot to me that you’re saying that. I hope you know I’d do the same for you.” You nod, his kind words making your heart melt like candle wax. “Speaking of, are you feeling any warmer? Your hand, it still feels-” 

You drop your hand back down to the blanket, noticing that, though you haven’t shivered since you put on the sweatshirt, your fingertips still feel dull, unable to fully sense the softness of the cloth. “It’s a little better, but I’m still pretty cold,” you admit.

“Well, I can’t have you freezing to death,” he tells you. 

“That might ruin the trip,” you say with a small laugh.

“You’re right. I would get in so much trouble.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble because of me.” You tilt your head, a bashful smile spreading across your face. 

He takes a second to drink in everything the faint light of the movie reveals of your expression. “Good thing I have a solution to our problem.”

“Yeah?”

His response is one that diverges from his typical flirty comments as it comes out softer, a little hesitant, even. “You could come closer.”

You eye him, waiting for him to reveal his bluff. But his gaze remains steady, so you repeat his words back to him slowly as if you were trying to figure out which part he isn’t sincere about. “You want me to come closer?”

He chuckles. “Somebody’s nervous.” Josh lets his arms spread atop the row of pillows behind him, opening himself up to you. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he grins, “hard.” 

“Alright, pack it up, cornball,” you say, lifting up the comforter and scooting closer to him, stopping just an inch or two before your thigh touches his.

“You know you love it,” he says.

“Shut it, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you shoot back, reclining until your back meets his arm and the pillows it lies atop of. The hard muscle of his bicep contrasts with the plushness of the pillows, but it doesn’t make you any less comfortable, in fact, you like this position more than how you were earlier.

Being close to him, nearly in his arms, feels better than you expected. The warmth of his body and the steadiness of his breath conjure up a calm haze that settles over you like a spell. You work hard to stay focused and upright, wanting to finish the movie and talk to him some more. But you're exhausted, so as he's explaining the foreshadowing from the first act of the movie, you end up leaning into him, your head falling onto his shoulder and your hand onto his chest. He doesn’t say anything, but his arm shifts behind your back, and then his hand is on your head, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, everything around you fading out aside from the soothing feeling of his touch. 

“Sleepy?” he whispers down to you.

“Mhmm,” you mumble back. 

“Do you want to sleep in here tonight? It’s much warmer.”

“Can I?” you ask, nuzzling your cheek into his shoulder. He’s just so comfortable, it would be so terrible if you couldn’t stay. 

“Of course you can,” he responds. You can hear the smile in his voice and it sends a small wave of warmth through your body.

You move your head so it rests on his chest, your fingers sprawled out just a bit lower, mindlessly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Staying awake is getting harder and harder as the gentle strokes on your head coax you to sleep, and eventually, you give in.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re still curled up next to Josh, and he is still asleep. He has been going through a lot this past year, but as the light of dawn trickles through the window and onto his face, he looks the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.

[rainsiide]

BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER .ᐟ.ᐟ

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི now playing Diet Mountain Dew - Lana Del Rey 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

“you’re no good for me, but baby I want you.”

sophia laforteza x reader ⋮ you’re a cheerleader, you don’t like girls. especially not that oddity of a football player sophia.

warning you! ⋆ slight internalized homophobia, i went to most my football games and i still have no clue abt it

“i want this to be sharper girls!” your coach yelled, for about the tenth time. the homecoming prep rally was coming up soon and your coach would not take good for a end result. she wanted perfect. she was going over routines for touchdowns, fumbles, & a down. and also the half time performance

soon after you found yourself in the bleachers, in the middle cheering for the girls. cheers erupted from your mouth and stomps shook the bleachers. you were apart of the tumblers who did tricks on the track that surrounded the football field. perfecting your skills everyday from practice, you flawlessly hits stunts, jumps and flips. you had been facing away from the field when you felt a rush of a air, a yell, a scream, and then you felt the track ground. someone had fell into you.

“holy shit! i am so sorry, i didn’t think i was running that far to catch it!” a girls voice said. you touched your head, the headache hitting hard and pain in your foot made you struggle. she took off her helmet, a sweaty face and dark hair cascading down her neck. she kneeled down grabbing your hand and pulling you up gently.

“i- are you okay?” she had asked as she helped you stand up, one of your feet slightly hovering above the track. you looked up at her clueless. no words came up, and why not? because her face was so distracting. no— no it wasn’t, you just got caught off guard, that was all.

“do you have a concussion, can you hear me?” she look concerned that you were just staring at her.

“sorry— um my foot, i don’t think i can walk on it.” you responded to her. the nurse then came over to you and helped you up onto a bed on the side. for some reason sophia trailed right behind her. she looked like a kicked puppy. she probably felt like one too.

“i am so so so sorry! i know your performing in the halftime and i feel really bad!” she started to ramble on to you. “look its okay um—” “sophia.” “sophia, it’s fine, you didn’t mean it, we shouldn’t had been turned around aways..” you said. it was kinda stupid to be looking at the crowd instead of the players.

“you’re gonna need to stay off this foot for awhile, there’s no signs of a concussion so you should be fine in time for the halftime performance.” the nurse said as she placed a ice pack on your foot and told you to rest there for awhile. you watched the game from the sidelines, or rather sophia from the sidelines. it was only because she was only player you could recognize, no other reason.

the next day at school you found yourself with a cast on your foot and you walked weakly around the hallways. then you unlocked your locker to place some books you didn’t need for next period. then closing your locker you found a tall dark hair football player on the other side of the door. practically scaring you and you always fell again.

“woah, didn’t mean to make you drop.” she said with a laugh. “well you almost did, funny job sophia.” you said rolling your eyes. “sorry. look i just came over here to give you this. i asked your friend. the one with the blonde curly hair? she said you liked these.” she referred to your friend daniela, passing you candy bar that you loved since the dawn of times.

“it’s an apology candy. you know, for what happened last night.” she said sheepishly. she smiled at her and thanked her for it “you really didn’t have to, but i appreciate sophia.” she smiled and left to her class.

about a hour later you went to the lunchroom. sitting with your friends daniela & harvey. they had their lunches, eating and chatting. they greeted you and you joined in on the talking. you disengaged from the conversation for a minute to take out the candy bar that was in your pocket. mindlessly eating it.

“no way you went to the store without us?” harvey said, often times you guys went off campus to get snacks during lunchtime. but today wasn’t a day you planned to. “no, it’s uh— from that football player, as a apology.” you said.

“hm, that’s why she asked me about your favorite candy.” daniela said, biting down on the sub sandwich. “huh, cute.” harvey said. you paid harvey no mind as you finished it. the lunch period was over and they threw their lunch away. all of three of you started to walk to class. one by one dropping each other off. harvey dropped you off and left to her own class.

two weeks past and you were now fully healed in time for the homecoming game. you and sophia and grown closer but you paid it no mind. that she was just being friendly. after school you and daniela were at practice. practicing stunts on the sidelines and routine. the coach gave the girls a break and daniela and you sat down as you watched the football player(s) practice. tonight was a big rivalry and they just had to beat them. you could recognize a certain football player anywhere. many times cheer practice overlapped with football practice. so you’d see sophia more often then you thought.

then the players came off the field for a break and she slid herself right next to you. her head resting on your shoulder. mindlessly you played with her hair. it had been something you got used to, every time you saw her at practice during breaks you would hang out together and talk together.

later on you were in the changing room, putting on your uniform for the halftime show. and so was sophia. you were sitting lacing up your shoes, not really paying attention to whoever was next to you. until you felt somebody slide over and wrap a arm around your shoulders. “hey y/n” sophia smiled. you giggled and said hey back. then turning your head, not realizing how close her face was. so close you could feel her breath. so close you could see how perfect her eyelashes were, and how perfect those lips were. so perfect you could just kiss them. and you did.

her lips against yours felt so familiar for something new but then. you woke up. your eyes opened and you realized what you were doing. you pulled away from her at what went through your mind, you touched your lips, looked at her and moved back.

“i don’t— um- im supposed to be on the sidelines. i have to go.” and at that you got up without looking behind you. speed walking out room and running to the field. your mind was spiraling. why’d you kiss sophia? you don’t like her, you don’t like girls. your a cheerleader. you thought. you didn’t say anything and as the game started minutes later. that football player caught your eye again, and you didnt know if these were good reasons or bad reasons.

you watched them play back and forth, fumbles, flags, touchdowns and all. then it was time for the halftime show. first the band with the dancers took over the field. baritones, trumpets, drums played loud as ever. you watched intently as they played. your mind running through your own performance. cheers erupted from the bleachers. as well as the players on the sideline. then it was time for the cheerleaders.

your heart was not in its normal place, it was ten times deeper. and you could feel it every time you moved. locking into your starting position, you counted over and over in your head as danced to the music. you hoped that you wouldn’t mess up any stunts. hoping you wouldn’t drop any flips. while you were in position for a move you caught the eye of sophia. you didn’t know if it was a face of “i’m proud of you” or if it’s “please talk to me again” and if you knew any better it was probably the second thought. after the performance was over yo posed for the ending. and then moved. cheers also erupted for you.

after that the players were back on the field and hustling. this was a rival team they could let put them out in their field. seconds on the clock, sophia ran down the field, ball in a hand, going to the end, getting a touchdown last second. the bleachers were loud, they gladly put the rival team to shame. then. they held the players up cheering and clapping for everybody.

you were sat on the bleachers waiting for you and daniela’s ride. her mom always picked you both up. you had been on the sidelines packing up some things you’d left over there.

“hey.”

you felt your heart stop. sophia. you got up and turned around to face her.

“i’m sorry about the kiss i—“ she said, everything moved in slow motion. and without thinking you pulled her into a hug. your arms tightly around her neck. you had came to the conclusion that if there was anybody to kiss it was to be her. you liked girls, you liked sophia, even if you were a cheerleader.

you moved from her embrace and held her face in your palms.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t think i liked her girls. i didn’t think i liked you, im a cheerleader, you know? ‘m supposed to be the the top football player jock. but i think i want you. i like this football player more than any one.” you said, pointing to her.

she smiled to you, her hands on your waist. “so can i kiss you?” she smiled as she questioned you. you nodded as she pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“i like you sophia.”

“i like you too, cheerleader.”

[planetpedri]

Something great 𖦹 Pepe Martí

Summary: Pepe thought making your first date special by going to an ice rink—something you loved to do, would be a great idea. The only problem was that he had no clue how to ice skate.

Word count: 1.28k

Disclaimer/s: fluff, reader is Christian Mansell’s sister so this is a brothers best friend type ^_^ hella banter and teasing

Bea speaks! THIS MAY BE IT. this may be my favorite plot.

The sharp winter wind that hit your face was unwelcome, but you accepted it. Why? Because you were on a date with the boy you’d had a crush on since you were young. Your brother’s best friend, which, Chris was not all that happy about.. but he accepted it. Pepe wouldn’t tell you, but the ice skating idea was partially Chris’s idea.

Nimbly tying your skates laces, you tilt your head to look at the tan boy. He was nervous, which you were as well, but he seemed nervous for something else.

“You okay?” You question, nudging his shoulder lightly.

Struggling to tie his laces, his hands shaking slightly, Pepe exhales lowly. “Yeah. Yeah.. How hard can this be? I mean, it’s basically just sliding, right? People slide all the time, I slide all the time.” His eyes flicker to the ice warily, trying to swallow back his nerves.

Grinning at him, you nod slowly. “Sliding.. Righttt.. Definitely, exactly what skating is.” Looking over his concerned expression, it dawns on you. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Letting out a nervous chuckle, he shrugs slightly. “Well, uh—no.. but,” he clears his throat and straighten up, “how hard can it be? I race going hundreds of kilometers an hour all the time. Balance, speed, same concept?”

Was be being serious?

A look of disbelief, mixed with amusement forms on your face. “Right. Sure. Because driving has so much in common with two things blades.”

Pepe’s eyes narrow into a mocking scowl. “You’re doubting my skills, is that it? I’m very offended, I brought you here to impress you, y’know? And you’re mocking me.” His gloved hand clutches his coat tightly, adding to his dramatics.

Rolling your eyes, you stand up and offer out your hand. “Oh, I have so much faith in you. I cannot wait to see your impressive skills. Just, don’t fall in the first five seconds and I’ll be very impressed!” Pepe laughs, accepting your hand.

Stepping onto the rink, you begin to skate to the side, letting go of his hand for a split second. When Pepe got onto the ice, he was instantly wobbling, his arms waving about frantically. You couldn’t help but giggle as you skated back to his side and his arm instantly gripped onto your coat.

If his face wasn’t already flushed from the bitter cold, it was definitely flushed now. “Okay. Definitely harder than I imagined.” He huffs out breathlessly.

Shrugging, you place your hand over his. Even through the soft gloves he wore, Pepe’s skin was still heating up at your gentle touch. “Come on speedy. You’ve got this.” You whisper encouragingly, your lips curling upwards—barely holding back a laugh.

“So—“ You almost let go of him, but Pepe’s eyes shoot wide in panic.

His grip tightens on your arm, his other hand clasping over yours. “Wait! Wait! Don’t let go.. not yet. I’m just.. I need to collect my bearings.”

Your eyebrow lifts doubtfully. “You’re gripping my arm like your life depends on it.. seems like you need to gather a little more than just your bearings.”

Slowly moving alongside the edge of the barrier, Pepe glances at you with a sheepish grin. “Uh, because it does? One wrong move and im falling and landing on these skates and well—“

“Okay. That’s… dark.” You laugh lightly, “just relax, bend your knees a little and keep your weight forward, and—“

Before you could finished, Pepe tries to glide forward and stumbles. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you pull him back, stabilizing the both of you.

“Alright, maybe just stick to standing for now.”

Pepe was definitely blushing. This was supposed to be a cute, fun date but, instead he was making a fool of himself. “I’m actually really skilled at this, I’m just holding back for your sake. Don’t want to embarrass you and all that stuff.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

You laugh, shaking your head. “So generous of you, Pep.” The nickname slides off your tongue so easily, you don’t even catch it. Pepe does though, and his stomach flips.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” You smile, nodding towards the barrier, “just keep your hand by that.”

Moving behind him, gently holding his forearms arms to guide him, Pepe slowly skates forward. He was wobbly at first, but eventually got the hang of it, his confidence growing more and more with every inch.

Excitement flashes in his eyes, “hey! Look! I’m doing it! I’m—“

Pepe trips over his own feet, his skates butting into the ice. His hand goes to grab you for balance, but the momentum just pulls them down. Your heart drops the second you feel your balance shift forward.

Landing with a soft thump, you burst into laughter. The loud, unapologetic laughter only makes Pepe groan in embarrassment.

Letting go of you, his hands come up to cover his face. The sight was endearing to you, finding it quite adorable. “Oh God.” He grumbles, “this is it. This is the moment you tell your brother why you never want to see me again.”

Still giggling, your eyes soften as you look down at him. “Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my year—of well, anything ever.” You pause, wondering if some teasing would be appropriate for his embarrassed state.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush this much.”

Moving this fingers to peek at her, “this is not the way I pictured our first date going. This is a mess.”

Smiling adoringly at him, you shake your head in disagreement. “I think it’s perfect.”

Shifting one hand to hold yourself table against the cold ice, you brush a stray strand out of your face. You falter, the both of you realizing just how close you are.

Pepe’s breath hitches in his throat when your head dips only an inch towards him. The tension flowing between you could be cut with a knife. A heated, palpable, tension that had Pepe’s eyes flickering around your face, falling to your lips and back up to your eyes with a nervous, but hopeful look.

Without skipping a beat, Pepe leans up just enough for his lips to hover over hers, his eyes still watching you carefully. When your eyes begin to flutter shut, Pepe takes that as his sign and he closes the short distance.

Your lips move in sink. It’s slow and soft and full of a million different emotions. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Despite the freezing outdoor weather, you felt warm. Your lips on fire as they moved against Pepe’s.

When you both finally separate, Pepe’s head falls back against the ice lightly. His face is somehow redder, but you just grin widely.

“Are you going to blame that on the ice, too?” You tease, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Pepe chuckles, your words only worsening his flustered state. “No.” He smiles, eyes disappearing behind his squint. “That one I definitely meant to do.”

Humming, your head tilts to the side as you smirk. “Good. Because, that—that was definitely my favorite part of the date.”

Both of you fall into a short laughter before you roll off of him. Pepe tries to stand and help you up, but stumbles again. Luckily, your reflexes kicked in and you catch him before you two fall again.

Grinning sheepishly, Pepe rubs the back of his neck. “Okay, new goal: stay upright for one whole minute.”

Your eyes widen dramatically, as if he’d said something outrageous. “Baby steps, Pepe. Baby steps..”

The boys eyes roll. “Funny.” He takes your hand in his, squeezing it once. “I definitely got it now.”

“We’ll see about that…”

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pepe posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @spidybaby @n0vazsq @sakashq @h4vertzz @joaoflms

[yup-thats-me]

My heart goes out to all the (anime) fathers!

Men who will one day come to you while you’re chopping up some vegetables for the meal, men with the guts to stare at you straight in the eyes and say, “Y/n…let’s get a divorce. I found someone much better than you.”

He asks for a divorce. You have a knife in your hand.

Without thinking, you rush after him. “Who’s the other woman, goddamn it! I swear to god I’ll kill you then I’d kill myself!” what else was your husband expecting after you spent eight years of your life together, not to mention you even have a five-year-old daughter for heaven’s sake!

“Mama, stop!” your daughter called out, her little eyes filled with tears. “You cannot kill my husband!”

Did she say “My husband’’?

Oh so that’s what made your husband say that. Looking back at the man, you almost killed him off with that stare. He had no choice but to shrug, gesturing to your daughter.

“Baby, can I ask why Daddy is now called ‘my husband’?” The little girl stayed silent, looking at her ‘husband’ who was instantly by her side and picked her up.

“Woman, I cannot have you make my lovely bride-to-be cry!” He would say while smirking.

Sighing, you soothe your daughter. “Baby, see this ring? Daddy has one on his finger too,” The girl’s eyes almost popped out at the revelation.

“That means Mama and Daddy are married. You cannot marry Daddy, baby.”

Loud wails filled the house. It took an ice-cream and a cookie to make her stop. When she did, the terrifying news was brought up again.

“That’s why, Daddy can’t marry you.”

“…then will I get my own ring too?”

Her question made one of you giggle while it made the other’s vein pop on his forehead. “Of course! My little princess will find a lover who will get on one knee and give the ring to her.” The little girl was relieved.

“NO! I won’t let it happen!” Your husband cried, making the girl cry again. He received a smack on the head and the laundry for a week.

tr: mikey, shinichiro, baji, chifuyu, kokonoi; kny: sanemi, zenitsu, tengen; jjk: gojo, yuji, inumaki, sukuna; bsd: ranpo, dazai, nikolai; windbreaker (aged up, ofc): umemiya, kiryu, sakura + your favs!

Men who wakes you up with coffee on bed. It’s no special day today but it was decided that the family of three would go out for a picnic, and the weather could not have been any better.

Men who would not even bother to ask you to make preparation of food and other requirements for the picnic. They would get up at dawn when it is still dark outside and silently begin the preparations for the day.

They would make countless dishes, each one better than the next, and pack them up so beautifully. When done with cooking, they would pack the blankets, wine, and juice for the kid(s), and get your favorite book packed and of course, he cannot miss out on his camera! He has to take many pictures of his family on their day out.

Men who would choose a quiet flower field away from the bustling city; perfect for a quite yet enjoyable trip. They would even lay out the food and help feed them to you.

They would lay in your lap while you read your book and your son close by, doing something with flowers. Your son would run up to the two of you, a flower crown in his hand and ask for your husband to sit up.

The little boy placed the crown on his father’s head, giggling all the while. “Daddy looks so pretty!’’

“Yeah, doesn’t he?” you agree with the boy. “But what about mommy?”

“I’ll make mommy a flower bouquet! Wait your turn!” The boy ran away again, skipping in his track.

Your husband’s lips found yours; soft and sweet. “I love you,” they would say softly. “And our soon,” with a chuckle.

“And I love you two, too.”

tr: draken, mitsuya, inupi, kazutora; kny: tanjiro, rengoku, muzan; jjk: NANAMI, geto, yuta; bsd: chuuya, akutagawa, fukuzawa, poe, atsushi, sigma, fyodor, kunikida; windbreaker: hayato, togame, hiragi + your favs!

do not copy, steal, or translate my work on any other sites. all belong to yup-thats-me on tumblr

[scrapsovereign]

(Not kinktober related, but I woke up thinking about this and couldn’t stop thinking about it all day)

Midnight Snack

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x OC

Words: 490-ish

Rating: Explicit

Tags: NSFW, Astarion Smut, Tav/Reader is not described, Gender Neutral Tav/Reader, breastplay, vampire bites, thigh riding, somniphilia

Triggers/ Author Notes: I tried to make Tav gender neutral for this (I used the word breast, and I did describe the titty in detail if that helps your decision making). This is my first attempt at g/n smut, comments are appreciated and adored, and I’m open to learning!

The first thing you notice as you rouse from your slumber is a cool, pale hand palming at your breast, colored blue in the early morning darkness.

The second is the lukewarm velvet length twitching against your thigh.

Soft lips press a sloppy open-mouthed kiss to the hardened peak of your nipple. A tongue flicks over the nub, and ruby eyes peer up through mussed silver tresses to assess your reaction.

A sharp object grazes against the pebbled bud on your chest and you hiss in reaction to the delicious pain, a shiver of desire rippling across your skin. Half asleep and yet already so willing, you respond by arching your back into his mouth, giving him permission to drink from you.

Teeth that feel like ice shards pierce your skin, puncturing both sides of the areola. He anchors himself at your breast, sucking your nipple inside of his mouth. His tongue undulates against your flesh, encouraging your crimson to trickle down his throat.

Your hand cards through his silver curls, to hold your lover close with tender adoration. A warmth spreads out from your belly knowing that each swallow provides nourishment to his undead body, making him deadlier, faster, stronger.

Excruciating pain has gradually given way to exquisite pleasure, a familiar, delectable pressure starting to build. He whimpers as he squeezes your tits for every last drop of your sanguine nectar, needy and wanting.

His cock glides against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum in its wake. You feel him harden impossibly over you and can only imagine how beautiful the length of him is, dusky and flushed with your blood. His pace falters and his hips stutter, a telltale sign he’s close.

Your center tightens more and more with every movement of his tongue, every lewd slurping noise against your chest.

The pleasure that crests over you is a gentle wave of euphoria, different from the mind-blowing orgasms he repeatedly punished you with hours ago. He reaches his peak at the same time you do with a soft grunt, his eyes fluttering shut. He spills a dribble of his seed on your thigh, smearing the hot trail with lazy thrusts. Cleaning just that spot would be more effort than you’re both willing make right now. You’re especially filthy, your hole still leaking his seed from how he had fucked and filled you to bursting over and over again.

He laves at the wounds he’s created, stopping once or twice from nodding off in the middle of his ministrations. Your wounds clotted, he hums with drowsy satisfaction of a job well done as he clambers atop you. The comfort of his body pressed against yours helps to relax you, soothe you. You sigh contentedly in concert, slipping back into sleep before the neon rays of dawn break over the horizon.

In the morning, you are again roused by his cock, this time with the flushed, warm tip prodding your entrance…

[daenerystargaryen06]

"How beautiful, the queen tried to tell herself, but inside her was some foolish little girl who could not help but look about for Daario. If he loved you, he would come and carry you off at swordpoint, as Rhaegar carried off his northern girl, the girl in her insisted, but the queen knew that was folly..." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys VII

"I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb." -A Storm of Swords -Jon XII

Daenerys wanting Daario to carry her off at sword point, and Jon thinking of stealing Val for her love. Two parallels of one girl wanting to be stolen, and one boy wanting to steal someone. Both for love.

"None of them had ever seen a direwolf before, he realized, and Ghost was twice as large as the common wolves that prowled their southron greenwoods. As he walked toward the armory, Jon chanced to look up and saw Val standing in her tower window. I'm sorry, he thought. I'm not the man to steal you out of there." -A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

"Even if her captain was mad enough to attempt it, the Brazen Beasts would cut him down before he got within a hundred yards of her." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys VII

Jon is sorry he can't steal away Val, and Daenerys reflects on the fact that even if Daario did attempt to carry her off at sword point, he'd be cut down.

Both Jon and Daenerys have a sense of romanticism in their POV's. Both are hopeless romantics (perhaps Daenerys more so than Jon in a sense). Both want love, despite denying it deep down. Jon because he's a man of the Night's Watch and a bastard. Daenerys because she is a Queen over her people and accepts duty over giving in to "girlish" thoughts.

Both had found love within confinement. Jon having fallen for Ygritte while pretending to be on the Freefolk's side. Daenerys having found a twisted love in Drogo after being sold to him as a bridal slave. Both were coerced into sexual relations with Ygritte and Drogo. Both had to watch Ygritte and Drogo die (and Dany killed Drogo out of mercy).

"He found Ygritte sprawled across a patch of old snow beneath the Lord Commander's Tower, with an arrow between her breasts. The ice crystals had settled over her face, and in the moonlight it looked as though she wore a glittering silver mask [...] "Oh." Ygritte cupped his cheek with her hand. "You know nothing, Jon Snow," she sighed, dying. -A Storm of Swords - Jon VII

"And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” she said sadly. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.” Never, the darkness cried, never never never. Inside the tent Dany found a cushion, soft silk stuffed with feathers. She clutched it to her breasts as she walked back out to Drogo, to her sun-and-stars. If I look back I am lost. It hurt even to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream. She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and pressed the cushion down across his face." -A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IX

Both Jon and Daenerys have also found interest again after the deaths of Ygritte and Drogo. Jon wants Val, and Daenerys sleeps with Daario and may perhaps love him, but doubts over her relations with Daario. Both focus on their duties over giving in to what they really want. Daenerys even marries again for peace over giving in to what she really wants.

Both Jon and Daenerys think of having children, but push away the ideal. Jon due to being a member of the Night's Watch and a bastard. Daenerys due to thinking she is barren/cursed by Mirri Maz Duur and can never again have a child born from her.

Jon reflects that if he ever had a son, he'd name him Robb after his brother. Daenerys when pregnant with Drogo's child names her son Rhaego after her brother.

Jon is the secret son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Lyanna is associated with blue winter roses:

"He was walking through the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he had walked a thousand times before. The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. "Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood." -A Game of Thrones - Eddard XIII

"Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost." -A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV

When Daenerys has visions in the House of the Undying, she sees the Wall:

"A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. . . . mother of dragons, bride of fire . . ." -A Clash of Kings - Daenerys IV

Jon is the 'blue flower' she sees growing from the wall of ice, filling the air with 'sweetness'. Jon is Lyanna's son. Both carry blue flower representation.

Jon also wants to know everything there is about his mother; who she was, if she loved him, what sort of person she was. Just alike to how Daenerys wants to learn and know everything she can about Rhaegar, as she also idolizes him in a sense. Both have thoughts about these people. Jon constantly thinks about his mother (Lyanna even if he does not know yet who she is); Daenerys often thinks of Rhaegar (despite never knowing him). Both think of these people despite them already being gone from the world, and both only wish they could have known who they truly were as people and can only guess how Lyanna and Rhaegar would've thought or acted.

Jon thinks of having dragons at the Wall:

"We should have twenty trebuchets, not two, and they should be mounted on sledges and turntables so we could move them. It was a futile thought. He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three." -A Storm of Swords - Jon VIII

When Jon dies, Daenerys hears a wolf howling in the distance:

"Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys X

Both have an association/thought relating to one another's animal sigil/companion. Jon thinks of wishing for three dragons (Daenerys' house sigil and her dragon children). Daenerys hears a wolf howling when Jon dies, making her feel sad and lonely (Jon's house sigil through Lyanna/Ned and his direwolf Ghost).

Both Jon and Daenerys dream of home. Daenerys with the house with the red door and the lemon tree. Jon with Winterfell.

Both are estranged from their families (Jon being at the Wall. Daenerys being in Essos and the last of her family having died).

Both have lost their brothers in different means. Both have had their mothers die from childbirth and never got to meet them. Both of their fathers (Rhaegar and Aerys) died during the Rebellion.

Both had arcs of leadership and rule, and struggle with their decisions and making hard choices. Jon winds up killed due to his choices at the end of ADWD, and Daenerys becomes stranded in the Dothraki Sea due to her choice of saving Drogon (and her people from Drogon) from the fighting pit and escaping on dragonback.

While Daenerys thinks of taking the IT as a duty due to being the last of her family and Viserys' last living heir, Jon admits to wanting to become Lord of Winterfell but turning the opportunity away.