#dropped the cover of a life time then dipped never to be seen again

[kooktrash]

UKIYO ✧ jeon Jungkook

summary: it’s the start of summer and there’s nothing better than dipping your toes in the sand and falling for a local boy who plays beach volleyball in his free time. he’s charming in a way you’ve never seen and you seem to understand each other better than one could imagine. both stuck in an awkward time of self discovery, you try to live in the moment and forget about your worries till they become too hard to ignore.

The Japanese word ukiyo (pronounced "u-key-yo") means "living in the moment" or "detached from the troubles of life".

✧ genre/au: summer romance, local beach boy!jk x city girl!y/n, [she/her, afab]

✧ 17.7k words

warnings: smut, fluff, ‘coming of age’ but they’re in their twenties, jk falls first. oral [f receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally on a boat. hair pulling. jk is kinda rich boy. oc seems mean but she’s got mean vibes but just sassy and jk likes it. jk was previously engaged. law student jk. intimate missionary. jk is a volleyball player. think beach town vibes. his ex is kinda stuck up—all his friends are. jk is kinda lovesick puppy who needs aftercare lol

inspired by, Nicholas Sparks’ “The Last Song”

songs: tyrant — coldplay, mind over matter — young the giant, left hands free — alt-j, omg — suki waterhouse, sex drug etc — beach weather

✧

For a long time, summer was the only thing to look forward to in the year. The days were longer spent outside enjoying time with your friends and letting yourself sleep in until noon. As you grew older with more responsibilities that didn’t suddenly disappear when the temperature grew warmer, you began to lose feelings for the season. It made no difference in your life anymore and you longed for the days it would.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy for you to drop everything and leave your worries behind. A couple months in the sun, no stress, nothing holding you back.

”I still can’t believe I managed to convince you,” Your friend said for the third time in the last hour. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, again, “I still can’t believe it either, don’t make me regret it.”

Hoseok mocked you using a high pitched voice, turning the Jeep Wrangler into the driveway of a modern beach house, “How could you regret these next few weeks waking up to the waves crashing on the shore?”

”What magazine did you read that off of?” Your friend asked from the backseat, laughing to herself at his expense, “I hate when you talk corny.”

”Whatever, you guys are so ungrateful,” Hoseok jokes, pulling the car in ‘park’ and powering the engine off, “Next time I’ll invite someone else to come with—someone who I won't have to beg!”

”Boohoo,” You pretended to whine, getting out of the car and racing to get to your luggage first, “You love begging for me.”

”You wish,” He says with a scoff, “Hurry up and find your rooms, I want to get down to the beach as soon as possible.”

The beach was at its peak time of day where the sun sat the highest and almost every foot of sand was covered with people’s belongings. Not far from shore were rows of volleyball courts and crowds of people watching and as much as you wanted to avoid that busy side, it was the way to the boardwalk. You had no choice but to follow your friends in that direction. They were steps before you, already arguing about which store to go into first or what food stand you’ll go to but you were distracted by the large Ferris wheel in the back.

Maybe your focus should have been on the matches happening all around you but by the time you realized that it was too late. The white ball barely grazed your side when a tall figure headed straight into you with a loud thud.

A low grunt left your lips as you hit the sand with such a force that it physically ached for a moment. Your hands and face were practically covered in sand it was hard to acknowledge whatever gibberish your assailant spat out.

He didn’t have time to get a good look at you as he rushed to his feet, taking your arm and pulling you up abruptly, “Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“

“It’s fine,” your tone came out harsher than expected and it probably had something to do with the guy who loomed over you, and how embarrassed you felt. Up ahead your two friends were barely realizing you weren’t behind them and turning to find you, laughing once they did.

The stranger let his gaze trace over you with sudden curiosity, not at all intimidated by your attempt at a scowl. Now that he was looking at you up close, he had to admit he liked what he saw. He couldn’t help but grin nervously, “I’m sorry.”

His smile made you glare as you dusted sand off your jeans, “Really? I can’t tell.”

“I… it’s just, usually when there’s a ball flying people tend to dodge it,” he was walking backwards now as you tried leaving, he wanted to face you when he talked and it made his cocky smile all the more unbearable. You’ve just met the guy and he hadn’t given the best impression yet. Honestly, you’re just tired from the trip and you’re hungry so you blame that on your mood but you just want to escape this embarrassment of falling.

A scoff left your lips, “Are you saying that this is my fault? Maybe if you all played the game on the court, you wouldn’t have run after it.”

You were giving him attitude and yet he didn’t back down from returning it with a sweet smile.

“Jungkook!” Someone called from behind but the guy didn’t bother to even look back at the paused game. Instead he kept up with you, “You’re right, it’s partially my fault too so how can I make this up to you?”

You stopped walking, looking at him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you so there was no need to hold him up from his game any longer, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I can’t go on like this,” The stranger, Jungkook, said, “Not until I know you’re not mad anymore.”

The way you rolled your eyes excited him in a good way. He wasn’t amusing enough for you and it was rare for him not to be.

“Jungkook! Come on man, the game!”

“Y/n!” Hoseok said loudly, “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

Just like that, the two of you walked away from each other and you had to tell yourself not to look back at him. You didn’t want to catch him doing the same before he went back to playing.

“Are you okay?” Hyeri asked, still laughing lightly, helping you shake off sand, “I was going to help you but then I saw you talking to that hot guy and I didn’t want to intervene.”

“So considerate,” you mumbled sarcastically, trying to hide your smile as you walked the steps up to the pier and forgot about whatever was happening on the sand.

The stranger really was attractive, and if he hadn’t toppled you over like it was nothing you might have stayed a little longer. When you spotted him below you couldn’t help but look him over. He wore a pair of blue and white striped swimming trunks and no shirt which gave you a good look at his muscular back and sleeve of tattoos. Compared to the players around him, he looked noticeably different from the rest and you kind of liked that.

“What are we eating?” You asked your friends who shrugged, still indecisive.

Hours after the sunset and Jungkook’s adrenaline from winning began to slowly settle down, he walked along the boardwalk with his partner. The two of them are trying to waste time for a while before their night plans come along.

“I know Yeaun is around here somewhere and if she’s here then that means Chae-hi isn’t far,” Jimin said looking around the crowded boardwalk while Jungkook followed behind lazily, “Which means a fun night for us so let’s find them.”

He could hear what Jimin was saying but he wasn’t truly listening. His attention had drifted away from the conversation the second he looked to the side and found a familiar silhouette in the distance. Well, not too familiar but he recognized it from when he crashed into you earlier.

You were with your friends at some jewelry stand looking over all the handmade bracelets and necklaces, such a short distance from him. He could easily make it over to you in no time.

“I don’t really want to see Yeaun,” Jungkook said, eyes trained on you. Jimin groaned in response, whipping back to his friend and shaking his head. He followed his line of sight and jumped in front of him.

“No, look over here, we’ve got plans,” Jimin said hoping to pull Jungkook’s attention away from some stranger, “We told Chae-hi and Yeaun we’d met them tonight.”

“No, you have plans, I never agreed to anything,” Jungkook said with a laugh, clearly amused. He tried to see if you were still there but when he looked back you were already walking away.

“Don’t be that way, think about me. Your best friend, who has been trying to get with Chae-hi for weeks now,” Jimin begged, making Jungkook sigh with defeat. He didn’t say anything as he motioned for Jimin to lead the way and went on with his life.

✧

There’s a story about how you found yourself moving into a beach house with your best friends for the summer. The opportunity sort of fell at your feet when Hoseok’s sister had to leave abroad for a couple months because of her job. She lived in a nice house on the beach that would need to be looked after and that’s when she decided to tell her younger brother about it.

Not long after, he came to you and Hyeri and asked if you wanted to join. It took a long time for him to convince you but when you realized how shitty life currently was back home, there was nothing holding you back.

Your first week has been fun getting to enjoy the warm water and sand between your toes. You’ve gotten into a bit of a routine in the area and you’ve begun to familiarize yourself with the roads and places. That’s probably why you were doing Hoseok a favor by helping him out today.

He’s busy taking care of some errands for his sister and asked if you could bring his car into the shop for some maintenance, considering Hyeri liked sleeping past noon, you had no choice but to agree to it all on your own.

“What can we do for you?” A guy in a dark gray button up and oil streaks across his hands asked you once you made it to the auto shop.

“Just an oil change.”

Jungkook had nearly forgotten about his encounter on the beach. There wasn’t much for him to remember anyway and he’s never been the type to hold onto something so meaningless. He carried on with his usual routine and busied himself away at work.

The shop he worked at was busy all of the time and it was a great distraction from whatever else happened in his life so he truly loved it. He loved getting to work with cars and getting his hands dirty. He worked with people he was friends with and sometimes, if he’s really lucky, someone who catches his attention will stagger in.

When he found you standing in the office with his boss signing papers he was visibly taken back. He had been too busy helping Namjoon take a wheel off a black Sedan, to notice when you came in but he was too late now. You were already finishing up whatever you were doing with Jin and leaving.

“I’ll be back,” Jungkook told Namjoon, tossing him the wrench he had been using and heading straight to the front.

You went across the street to the small diner and he had to think about this. Part of him didn’t feel the need to see you again, mostly because he was embarrassed by toppling you over and probably how he sounded. Part of him wanted to ask for your name, apologize and try and see if you’ll talk to him.

“I’m taking an early lunch,” Jungkook told him without much of a car as he hurried to clock out and leave for the diner.

You sat alone in a booth with your laptop open and scrolling through a website filled with job offers. It was partially out of boredom and a reminder that you needed to find somewhere for when you get back home. You could look for something in the field you used to study in but how far could you get with it?

“Excuse me,” he stood in front of you now, “I don’t know if you remember me from a few days ago but—“

“I remember,” you said blandly, looking up at Jungkook with a mixture of boredom and a small hint of possible curiosity. He looked very different with a shirt on, his abs weren’t as distracting but he still had an intimidating build. That’s why his pretty face surprised you under all that sweat and car grease. He was clearly one of the mechanics and has somehow made his way to you.

“Right, uh,” he swooped in to sit across from you, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to knock you down and sometimes when I’m playing, I kinda get a little too excited so I’m sure I was just talking and talking.”

You’re assuming he meant how he followed after you and smiled so arrogantly when you looked visibly annoyed with him. What you don’t get is why he’s apologizing again, you weren’t still upset over that.

“It’s fine,” you reminded him with a confused look, trying to read what he was really here for, “You work across the street?”

“Yeah, I’m Jungkook,” He finally introduced himself, “I saw you earlier and it was time for lunch so I came to talk to you.”

You didn’t say anything for a while and the silence wasn’t broken until the waitress came and asked what Jungkook would like. He brushed her off with a ‘Whatever she’s having’ and looked at you curiously.

“Okay,” You’re definitely not from around here because he would’ve recognized you so just who are you? He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, yknow, usually when someone gives you their name you say yours back.”

“Y/n,” You said distantly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, anything,” Jungkook sat straighter, almost reaching up to fix his hair but stopping himself. He wasn’t nervous or anything but you’re not speaking to him with the same flirtatious tone and it’s confusing him.

“What are some fun things you can do around here other than the usual tourist stuff?” You asked him suddenly, “You are a local, I assume.”

“You assume right,” Jungkook nodded as he bit his lip in thought, “I could always show you better than I can tell you.”

“You’re a funny guy, y’know?” You smiled, “But seriously, what is there to do?”

He’s pretty sure that was just a rejection so it took him a moment to bounce back from it and tried to catch himself from doing it again.

By the time the car was ready, you were paying for your meal and hurrying to leave while Jungkook ate and enjoyed the last of his break. For the rest of the day he found himself thinking about you.

He’s lived a very repetitive and predictable life. Since early childhood he’s had the same classmates and friends, and gone to the same places and events. He’s known the same girls and has hung out with the same people for years. The only time he got any sense of independence is when he was gone for law school but now that he’s done and has returned home for the sake of his family and friends, he’s reminded once again of the repetitiveness.

Maybe that’s why he’s a little excited to meet someone new. He just had a strong feeling that you were more interesting than you let on and he wanted to know more.

He didn’t know that you felt the same and had to ignore these thoughts so you wouldn’t start anything with him. Jungkook was attractive and you’ve moved on from the fall aside from the slight bruising, and you were just trying to enjoy your time. Did you really need to meet someone?

In all honesty, he didn’t seem as arrogant covered in sweat, he looked good and he seemed nice.

But did that mean you wanted to waste your time with him?

✧

It was a crush, nothing but a small, schoolboy crush that occupied his mind from time to time. In all honesty, it was easy to ignore when he got carried away in his day to day life, it’s only when he sees you or you cross his mind for the shortest of seconds, that he finds himself getting lost. He doesn’t care for the girls his best friend likes to hang around, nor does he feel the need to upturn himself out there. Lately, all he’s wanted is to be with someone who makes him forget about himself and maybe he wasn’t looking in the right places if he thought you could help.

It was wishful thinking for him to hold so much thought over a stranger who couldn’t care less to know his name, but that’s what he liked. He wondered when he would run into you again, what he might say in hopes of getting a response and what would happen after that. He even wondered if you’d be at the beach tonight while everyone told ghost stories and drank bottles of Soju one after the other.

What does he say when he finally sees you looking at him?

You spotted him first, hating how much you wanted for him to look up and see you too. He was with his friends and you had no intentions to approach him but… well, he was cute. You can’t act like he isn’t and he’s oddly charming which makes him memorable but it was a bad idea. This trip was meant to be fun with your friends and that’s it—you weren’t going to make time for strangers.

“For once we don’t have to worry about an Uber and can walk our asses home,” Hoseok said standing over a keg, “So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m blacking out tonight.”

”When has anything ever stopped you from accomplishing that?” You asked him, turning your back to the familiar stranger, “You’re never the one ordering it anyway.”

”No, he’s usually the one we’re pushing into the backseat,” Hyeri joined in on the teasing.

“Shh, why do I always feel judged by you two? Is this what friends are for?” Hoseok pretended to be hurt as he filled your cup with beer.

“She’s not from around here, is she?” Jungkook asked as he looked across at you. You haven’t noticed him—he doesn’t think—but he’s noticed you and for some reason that excited him. Well, for one specific reason and it was simply the fact that he likes you. Does he know enough about you to pinpoint this statement? No, but he knows that he feels strange when you’re around. That has to mean something. The longest relationship he’s ever been in was with Yeaun and he doesn’t remember feeling this excited to meet someone.

“How would I know?” Jimin asked when a scoff, barely bothering to look over at you. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “You rather think about her than Yeaun? You’re insane.”

“Are you sure it’s Chae-hi you like and not Yeaun? You sure do bring her up around me a lot,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to get back together with Yeaun so that Chae-hi will think about me instead of her ‘heartbroken’ friend,” Jimin handed him a cup of beer, “Take one for the team.”

“No, I don’t think so,” He chuckled, “We broke up for a reason so don’t push it.”

“Not a good reason,” Jimin mumbled under his breath but Jungkook chose to ignore it.

“There you are,” the devil herself said as she found him, “We were wondering where you two ran off, right?”

“Right,” Chae-hi agreed, “Hi Jimin.”

“So, it’s kind of boring here isn’t it?” Yeaun asked looking at Jungkook for assurance, “Plus all the low lives are starting to come in and I really don’t want to be around any of them. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come back to mine.”

“To do what?” Jimin asked while Jungkook stood back disinterested and distracted. He couldn’t even pretend to be interested when he was focused on someone else entirely.

By pure luck, he looked back to see if you were still standing where you were before and this time you locked eyes with him. Without much care for the conversation he was supposed to be in right now, he walked off while they discussed plans involving a hot tub.

“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” Jungkook first said as you nearly bumped into him in an attempt to get closer to the bonfire. He walked alongside you with ease, “First, on the court, then at my job and now here?”

That made you snort in disbelief, shaking your head and trying not to smile, “Someone seems flattered but I think you have it the wrong way.”

“As in I’m the one doing the most to run into you? No, never,” Jungkook spoke dramatically, “This is all by chance. There’s no way I could’ve seen you from over there and decided to come and talk to you instead. That would make me seem desperate, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” you agreed, slightly amused now as you broke into a small smile, “I didn’t take you as the type.”

“Well that’s because you haven’t tried to get to know me, I’m honestly a catch,” Jungkook joked lightly, following you where you walked off to, “Or are you scared?”

“Scared? Of what?” You asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him with furrowed brows. He couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh I don’t know… getting to know someone new. You give me the vibe that you don’t like meeting new people.”

“I love meeting new people,” You exaggerated childishly, “When they don’t fall on top of me.”

“I caught myself, so let’s not lie now,” Jungkook snorted, “Besides, who’s the one who walked into the middle of a game?”

As he said that, the two of you seemed to have drifted far enough from where the fire had been going, that you found yourself not too far from one of the volleyball nets on the shore. Jungkook looked down at you with clear amusement as you looked up at the net and he walked up to the abandoned volleyball that sat in the sand.

“Do you eat, sleep, and breathe volleyball?” You jokingly asked, finally giving Jungkook some response that implied you were interested in him even slightly.

“Only on the weekends, sometimes around noon or after work if I’m free,” Jungkook told you, picking up the ball, “Do you play?”

“No,” you told him as he began to bounce the ball back and forth between his hands. You looked back at your friends who seemed preoccupied with whatever new friends they made for the night.

“It’s easy,” Jungkook said, “There’s really only one basic rule, don’t let the ball touch the ground.”

“Are you giving me a lesson now?” You asked with slight amusement as he moved to the other side of the net, “I’m warning you, I won’t be any good at it.”

“I’ll take it easy on you,” Jungkook tossed the ball your way and although you reached out to hit it, you missed and it landed a few feet behind you. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay, maybe you try and throw it.”

“But how do I throw it?” You looked up the tall net wondering how you would make it over. You held it up and tried doing a practice hit while he tried teaching you.

“Just try a simple serve, you can hit it from under or thro—“

“Oh my god,” you broke out into a nervous laugh as Jungkook covered his face with his hand. The ball sat at his feet, completely oblivious to the fact it had just pummeled straight into his face. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stop laughing but you were embarrassed and couldn’t do anything but try and laugh it off, “I’m so sorry.”

“Really? I can’t tell?” Jungkook said sarcastically, sounding eerily similar to you when you first met but still playful. In all honesty, the pain wasn’t too bad but it was humiliating and the only thing he could think about is how you’re trying not to laugh, “You think it’s funny?”

“No! No, I don’t, I just um,” you tried to stop, “I just…”

“You just what?” Jungkook looked at you, slowly making his way to your side and you inadvertently began to step back, worried he might actually be upset, “You like laughing at causing other people pain?”

“Did it actually hurt?” You asked with surprise, still stepping back the closer he got.

“My ego, yeah,” he joked, “And I feel like we need to get even.”

“We did, think about it as me getting back at you for the other day!” You tried to say, feeling the edge of the ride begin to touch your feet the farther you walked from him.

“Really? So this was all part of revenge?” Jungkook asked, “I don’t think so, I suggest you run.”

“What?” You stopped to think, “Jungk—“

And it began. He kicked water at you once the tide was close again and without thinking, you jumped back. You weren’t wearing a bathing suit or anything appropriate for the water so he can’t. You’re in a simple top and flowy, long skirt, not something you wanted wet, “Don’t you dare.”

“Why? Scared of a little water?” He tried to kick water again but this time you moved back in time and he smirked, “It’s better than getting hit in the face. Will you take care of me if I get a concussion?”

You scoffed, laughing, “Don’t you wis—Jungkook!”

He ran after you as you took off in a jog and before he knew it, you were splashing water back at him, not caring about how wet you got. The night was young and you were having a good time, there wasn’t much to worry about other than making sure you got Jungkook before he could get you.

Not far from where the two of you played in the ocean with the moon reflecting against the waves, a few pairs of eyes watched you unimpressed. Jimin didn’t have much to think about the matter, he just couldn’t understand it. Why would Jungkook waste his time on someone he didn’t even know?

Yeaun was right here desperate to have him back and instead he’s wandered off with some stranger acting childish. It doesn’t make sense, and neither does the big grin on Jungkook’s face once he caught you and tackled you into the low tide, both getting drenched in water.

“Jungkook!” He ignored the call of his name as he watched you shake sand out of your hair with curiosity. You looked annoyed even if you smiled and he knows you probably are considering he pushed you into the water but you’re not cussing him out yet. You’re not screaming at him for getting you into the water so maybe it was a good sign.

“Are we even now?” You asked breathlessly as you looked forward to where your friends were and turned away from Jungkook.

“I guess, for now at least,” He teased, walking toward Jimin, “It depends on if I bruise or not.”

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” you scoffed, smiling and shaking your head in disbelief. At some point in your ascend back up the shore, Jungkook got you to finally give him your number. You didn’t question when his friend approached him, going on about something you didn’t bother listening to and turned in search for someone you knew.

“You look like you need a towel,” someone said from your right. It took you a second to realize she was talking to you, much less holding out a clean towel for you.

“Thanks,” you said, trying to wipe off some of the sand with the beach towel the stranger handed to you. Hyeri was off talking with some guy and you had no clue where Hoseok was so as of now, you were on your own here. The girl was pretty and she seemed nice enough so you didn’t mind responding to her approach.

“I’m getting sand all over it,” you tried to make some sort of conversation, “Sorry, I’m Y/n.”

“Don’t even worry about it, I’m Yeaun,” She said with a smile, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, laughing lightly. Yeaun just shrugged as she got closer to you, “Not really, but, well… there’s just some people you should always avoid.”

Your brows began to furrow with confusion, “Like?”

“No, I don’t want to start anything,” she shook her head no, “We don’t know each other and you’ll probably think I’m meddling but… okay, Jeon Jungkook.”

You didn’t say anything to that as you tried to get a good look at the girl. Yeaun was pretty with sun-kissed skin and golden hair that shone under the moonlight. She seemed soft and glowed with a brightness that felt contagious but you didn’t know her. You don’t know why she brought up Jungkook or why she even approached you so you had nothing to say back to her.

“I just mean… you’re not from around here and you seem smart,” Yeaun said sympathetically, “Jungkook’s kind of a known player and I don’t want you to fall for his tricks, trust me, he’s not worth it.”

“Trust me, it’s not like that,” you said, suddenly disinterested in conversation with her and more focused on finding your friends, “Thanks for looking out for me though.”

Yeaun watched you walk away and not bother to turn back and she had to leave like it didn’t bother her to be brushed to the side. She can’t tell if you took what she said into consideration or if you couldn’t care less and she didn’t like that. She didn’t like that she didn’t know you and she didn’t know about your relationship with Jungkook or how you know him.

✧

His life was utterly perfect to anyone who thought about it. He had the bestest of friends, the closest family, the most money and a promising future. Everything he had ever wanted was handed right to him and in a sense, it made him arrogant. It was a given that he would end up that way and maybe that’s why he’s always surrounded himself with people of the like. He didn’t despise any of his friends, just sometimes, when he listened to the conversations they would have, he wanted to disagree.

“Yeaun said you’ve been avoiding her,” Jin said as he pulled a golf club out of his bag.

”Great, now you’re talking about her too?” Jungkook asked, lining his club up with a shiny white golf ball, “I already get enough of it from my parents and Jimin.”

“Well yeah, when you suddenly call off a year long engagement with someone you’ve known all your life, people question it,” Jin said, watching Jungkook swing the club back and shoot the ball into the air, “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook mumbled, “Besides, there’s someone else, I don’t know if you know her, her name’s Y/n.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Jin shrugged, moving his visor down to block more of the summer sun out of his eyes. He wore white golfing gloves and a pair of Raybans, making him look straight out of a country club catalog.

Jungkook sighed, growing more restless by the minute. He’s only seen you on few occasions and he’s yet to leave a good impression on you where he can ask for your number or something, “She was hanging out with this guy, I know you know him but I can’t think of his name—you dated his sister.”

“Hoseok?” Jin asked, “I remember hearing about how he was in town. How do you know this isn’t his girlfriend you’re hitting on?”

“It’s not,” Jungkook said, “I don’t think. I don’t know.”

“But what about her?” Jin asked, hopping in the passenger’s side of the golf cart, “You don’t know a thing about the girl but you like her and you’re willing to throw away your future because of it.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Jungkook said with a scoff, “But whatever, you don’t get it.”

He spent the evening golfing on a private course not far from the beach where you wandered around with a book in hand.

You enjoyed passing time with your friends but sometimes, you just needed time to yourself and you would find yourself wandering off on your own without much care for anything else. Your friends didn’t mind when you went off and you always made sure to tell them where you would go so there was never any problem. Ever since you got here, you’ve been doing things on your own.

“I knew I would find you around here.”

You didn’t respond at first, still debating if the person was talking to you, but one look up told you he was. Although you wanted to resist the urge to smile, you couldn’t help it.

“Stalker,” You said with a small sigh, closing your book. He didn’t say anything as he took a seat down in the sand next to you. “You’re on my turf, remember? What are you reading by the way?”

You glanced at the cover of your book, “Nothing exciting—how’d you know I was here?”

“I looked for a dark, brooding figure and assumed it was you,” Jungkook joked, “And just an fyi, my face still hurts.”

“I’m sure you've been hit worse,” You said sarcastically, sitting up and watching him get comfortable. He was dressed in a light color linen button up and shorts, the first buttons were undone and a cliche shell necklace sat perfectly against his collarbone. He was attractive and you’ve thought so since the beginning but something was holding you back.

Did you really want to waste your time on a stranger you won’t know in a few months?

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks suddenly.

“Sleeping, hopefully,” you told him, a small smile when you noticed him roll his eyes.

“It’s the summer, the sun’s out, you live on the beach—don’t look at me like that, it’s a small town. Word gets around when a new person shows up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, knowing it’s him who had been asking about you.

“You’re just solidifying my stalker allegations, should I report you?” You asked, laughing slightly.

“I’ll have you know, a lot of people would love to be stalked by me, you should feel flattered,” He nudged your knee with his.

“What? Like it’s hard? Word gets around,” You said to him, “I’ve already been warned about getting too close to you.”

Jungkook let his brows furrow as he took in what you said but it didn’t take long for it to dawn on him. As much as he wanted to act like there was no way his ex girlfriend would approach you, he knew her too well. Who else would talk down on him? Who else would feel threatened when he ignores them? What does she think she gains from telling you to stay away from him? Isn’t it his decision who he approaches and does she think you’re just going to fall in line like everyone else does?

This is the sort of thing that pisses him off. He’s not a bad guy at all, he doesn’t sleep around, he focuses on his goals, he has fun with his friends… so why?

“But if it makes you feel any better, I’m not very good at listening to what I’m told,” You finally said, standing up with your book in hand and pulling the sand-covered towel, “And I’m starving, so where’s a good place to eat around here?��

As much as he wanted to act like the cool guy and seem indifferent, he couldn’t help but break out into a grin. Without wasting another second, he got up and motioned to carry your things, “There’s a good food shack on the boardwalk. I guess I could show you around.”

“If it isn’t too much of a hassle,” You said playfully, handing him your things.

“So, I want to know, what’s a big city girl like yourself doing all the way over here?” He asked on the way up, “Or do you still want to play at being mysterious?”

You rolled your eyes, “I don't usually play games like that, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I just don’t talk if I have nothing to say.”

“Interesting take, I personally never know when to shut up,” Jungkook smiled, pointing up to the restaurant and walking in behind you, “But seriously, usually the tourists come to pollute our water and get away.”

“Are you always so observant? You give me the vibe that you like to watch other people,” You told him, sitting down at a high round table across from him.

“And you give me the vibe that you hate talking about yourself. Why else would you avoid every question I ask?” He asked, raising a brow making you scoff but you couldn’t deny it. When the server brought out your menus, she made sure to greet Jungkook like old friends.

“Do you really care to know?” You asked quietly.

“Why else would I ask? I’m not pretending to be interested, if that’s what you think,” Jungkook said honestly.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at the menu contemplating what to order and what to say, “Things were getting a little too complicated back home and my friend asked if I wanted to pack up my things and follow him down for the summer and I said yes.”

“How broad,” Jungkook said with a small smile, lifting a brow and waiting to see if you would add to it.

“It’s the truth,” you shrugged.

“What was complicated?” Jungkook asked.

He looked amused when you narrowed your eyes in response to his probing. “Adulting.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Jungkook shrugged, waiting for the server to come back to take your orders. He let you order first, watching the server give you a look as she listened and followed after with his own.

“How wise of you to say. What about you?” You asked him, handing the menus back and sliding your drink closer to you.

Jungkook distracted himself playing with the wrapper of his straw and shrugged, “What about me? We’ll get to me when you give me the juicy details.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, looking out the window to the view of the waves crashing against the shore, “What? I told you everything.”

He chuckled, “Barely.”

Rolling your eyes, “Rude.”

“Really?” He asked, biting back a smile.

“No. You’re actually pretty nice,” once again, you sighed, as if admitting that was hard for you.

“Nice? That’s what you tell a guy when you’re going to reject him. I just want to know more about you but there’s not much I can go with. How long are you staying?” Jungkook finally asked you.

“A couple months, are you already dreading it when I leave?” You asked, sounding sarcastic and amused.

“Maybe, you’ve left an impression despite what you might think. Crushing you under my incredible physique was destiny.” He could tell you wanted to laugh but were refusing to do so.

“Corny.”

“Funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and making it known that he was going to wait for you however long it took.

“I had this bad roommate situation I couldn’t take anymore and my lease doesn’t end for another two months so when Hobi asked me to come with I jumped at the chance. I left my job because it’s draining me and I felt useless so I figured it’d be easier to run away to the beach and deal with it all later. Happy? I was honest.” You rushed the words, half-assed the pace.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously but gave in, “Content. You’ll figure it out, you don’t seem like the type to wait around for things to fix themselves.”

“Really? Because that feels like what I’m doing right now. I’m all the way over here where I haven’t done anything but run into this strange guy at the beach who I think might be stalking me,” You said, joking at the end.

“No, right now you’re trying to live in the moment, nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled, ignoring your joke.

You don’t remember much of what you said to him but for some reason Jungkook was very easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because you don’t really know him or expect anything from him at all but he got you too open up to him like you’ve known him for years. In reality you didn’t know anything about him or anyone here for that matter.

“Okay, okay, enough about me. It’s your turn,” you had finally said between mouthfuls of whatever the two of you ordered and Jungkook couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Alright, I’m… also trying to figure things out on my own. I’m used to being with certain people and doing certain things and I don’t know, at one point I kind of got fed up with everything being so predictable. I want to meet people on my own and not because they know who I am or something,” He rushed his words, “If I could, I’d move far away from here but right now I don’t think that’s an option so I settle for next best and stick it out. In all honesty, everything’s kind of been a bore until I met you, you’re different.”

You raised a brow, mirroring his earlier stance and crossing your arms over your chest, unamused, “How?”

He smirked, “I don’t know yet, I can just tell.”

You never believe a guy when he goes on about how different you are from other girls because usually they’re just full of shit. You’re not good at picking the right person so it makes you wary to believe anything he says despite how good he looks saying it.

By the time the bill came, the server made sure to sit it without checking if that’s what either of you wanted but you didn’t hesitate to reach for yours. Jungkook snatched the small slip out of your hand and hurried the server back so he could pay for it in full, giving her a tight smile, “Just one check, thanks.”

“Sure thing,” she said with a light scoff that had you looking after her with furrowed brows. Something about the way she acted left you feeling confused.

“What a good first date.” Jungkook said at the end, walking outside with you.

“This wasn’t a date,” you teased, thanking him for the meal nevertheless, “But I should probably call it a night, y’know.”

“Oh yeah, me too,” Jungkook shrugged “But if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, we should see each other again.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it,” You said playfully, “If I’m not busy.”

“You won’t be,” He smirked, bumping your shoulder with his as the walk turned bumpy and more trail-like as he walked you home, “But why don’t you give me your number and we can talk about it more on the phone.”

“Hah, smooth guy, aren’t you?” You asked, taking his phone and typing your number in. When you got to the soft trail of greenery and sand that led up to the backyard of the beach house.

“How about we watch the last few minutes of the sun set together,” he reached for your head and stopped you before you could head up the wooden steps.

“How about you don’t kidnap my friend for the whole evening!” Hoseok shouted suddenly, tripping over his own feet as he ran out the sliding glass door that led to the pool deck, “I’ve been worried sick about Y/n.”

“Not true, he’s been sleeping!” Hyeri yelled after him, “But you’re the guy who tackled my best friend on our first day here.”

“My reputation precedes me,” Jungkook held his hands up in surrender, “I’m Jungkook. I was just asking if you guys wanted to join us and watch the sun set.”

“How aesthetic, let me grab some bottles of Soju.”

Your attempt to end your time with Jungkook failed and he seemed pleased with himself for that. He was also polite enough to try and get to know your friends too.

✧

He was having a crisis, he thinks. A real life identity crisis because for the first time in his life he thinks he likes someone—in a way he’s never liked anyone before. It’s pathetic and makes him feel so stupid because he barely knows anything about you but it’s the truth. If anything that’s what makes him like you so much. He likes that he can’t tell what you’ll say or how you’ll react to him, it’s exciting.

He just wants to know if he’s on your mind too.

“We’re still on for this weekend right?”

“What are we doing again?” The road ahead was a scenic path between mountain and sea that led all the way to this private property of his childhood home.

“Chae-hi’s birthday trip.” Jimin spoke from the passenger’s seat of the black pick-up truck his best friend paraded in when he wasn’t on his dirtbike.

“Oh, yeah I’m not going. I was thinking of taking Y/n sailing,” Jungkook said with a small smile, looking sideways, unable to miss the way Jimin stiffened and went silent. He looked back to the road, hand tightening around the steering wheel slightly, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jimin scoffed, looking out the window annoyed now. The drive was silent for a while, nothing but the low sound of music and wind blowing through the topless truck.

“What’s up with you lately?” He finally asked, “You barely know the girl and she’s all you talk about. We’ve had plans to go with everyone.”

By everyone he meant their mutual friends—not just his ex and her friend—which made things worse. He’s known them all for years and it’s hard to see them when he wants to move on and do his own thing. Jungkook tried not to let Jimin’s tone ruin his mood and sighed, “Sorry, man, but I’m not going. Are we playing later or what?”

“You sure you’re not busy with your new friends?” Jimin asked, remembering about the night Jungkook had dinner with you. He tried calling him that night to see if he wanted to go out for drinks just to be rejected because Jungkook was too busy with you and your friends.

Jungkook chuckled, “Don’t be jealous, you’ll always be first in my heart.”

“Oh fuck off,” Jimin rolled his eyes, trying to not sound bitter as he asked, “What’s your girl doing anyway?”

“Y/n’s not my girl—yet, I don’t know. She hasn’t texted back,” Jungkook said worriedly, making Jimin stare at him strangely.

It’s not that he had anything against you personally, he just doesn’t get it. You’re a complete stranger who won’t stick around so why has his best friend chosen to hang out with you so much recently. What did you have over the people he’s known all his life? What do you bring to the table?

What did you gain from being around Jungkook?

You couldn’t explain it either. All you really knew was that a cute guy who sort of annoyed you in the beginning was starting to rub off on you. You’ve come to enjoy running into him and forcing yourself to open up because he’ll listen. It made you feel weird in a good way. You wanted to think about how fun it was to be around him and ignore all the worries you’ve had recently.

Even with your close friends, you’ve long since stopped talking about the people you were interested in. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust them or want their advice but sometimes you didn’t feel the need to say anything—especially if it was harmless fun. That’s why when Hyeri approached you about Jungkook, you weren’t sure what to say.

“It’s no fair,” Hyeri picked through a crate of strawberries, dropping them into a basket, “I wanted to find a little beach boyfriend, why’d you get lucky instead.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked dumbly, following her down the aisle of produce at the farmer’s market.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Hyeri said accusingly, “Jungkook.”

“We’re just hanging out,” You said with a shrug that made her laugh, pushing her sunglasses into her hairline. You knocked against one end of a green watermelon, hoisting it in your hands and continuing past her.

“Right, is that what you called your date the other night? Just a nice early dinner with a hot guy who asked to watch the sunset with you?” She said playfully, “You like him, don’t you.”

“I don’t know him,” You insisted. Yes, you’ve talked a lot with Jungkook recently and you’ve begun to talk about real things in your lives but did that really mean anything? “Besides, in a month and a half I’ll be in my new place settling back into the old routine. It’s just fun hanging out with him, nothing more, it’d be too complicated.”

“Whatever you say,” Hyeri sighed.

You’re lying, obviously you’re lying because you do sort of like him but you didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to think about what you could become, you only want to think about now and how things progress. Whatever happens, happens. That’s it. Could you pretend like you have no worries aside from who you’ll run into on the beach instead?

When your phone rang, you knew immediately who it could’ve been and although Hyeri walked ahead, acting like she couldn’t hear it, she was clearly listening. When you answered Jungkook’s call, he was quick to ask about your plans for the upcoming weekend.

✧

“You want to take me sailing?”

Despite the early hours where the sun has yet to shine through, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Even walking along the dock following after Jungkook who led the way through the darkness of the starry sky. “Or are you plotting my murder?”

“Which would you prefer I do?” He asked teasingly, looking back at you with a grin, “But seriously, it’ll be fun.”

Fun wasn’t waking up before the sun did, nor was it following a man you barely know out to the sea. If it weren’t for Hyeri begging you to take up his offer, you wouldn’t be here right now.

The sailing yacht was bigger than you expected with a small cabin area below deck to sleep and wash up in. You’ve never been on a sailboat before but you didn’t think they would look this nice and clean.

“This is yours?” You asked, watching him put in the arm work to undo the rope that tied the boat to the dock.

“Um, yeah,” Jungkook answered blandly, “Kinda?”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah, it’s mine,” he cleared his throat, helping you carry your bag down to the room before bringing you back up to the galley, “I used to be on a sailing team when I was in school and after I graduated I got this for my friends and I.”

“Nice,” You looked around, still in shock at the size of the sails. It was a Beneteau Oceanis 48 with such a sleek, clean look you were scared to sit on any part of it. You wanted to ask how much it was but resisted the urge to, scared you’d sound rude.

Still half asleep, you watched Jungkook set sail behind the wheel, his jacket already off and the sleeves of his linen shirt.

“Sleep a little, we’ve got time,” he said lastly.

It went easy between you two, you felt comfortable and for some reason safe with him enough to letyourself relax around him. You can't remember falling asleep but at some point you had and when you were woken up it was with him dropping anchor in the middle of the open sea.

The waves were calm, breathtaking deep blue and you could see the line of gold separating the ocean from the sky. It was beginning to warm up but you still shivered in your thin sweater, looking up feeling awestruck by the view.

"Look who's finally awake," Jungkook said softly as he secured the wheel and came over to where you sat. He grabbed his jacket — that he had grown too hot for — and placed it over your front. You took in the light scent of his cologne that lingered on the Northface and thanked him, "You said I could sleep."

"I know," he sat across from you, looking at you with a gentle look on his eyes, "I did wake you up pretty early, but look at the view. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's nice," You leaned against the edge of the seat, staring down at the dark navy blue water, almost catching your reflection in it. The line of gold was beginning to widen and a circle of light was bouncing off the ocean beautifully. "If you plan on pushing me over the edge, now's the time."

"You're dumb," he laughed, kicking your foot with his playfully. You smiled, trying not to laugh as you looked at him, "Aren't you cold?"

"No, it's hard work getting a sail boat out and I was starting to sweat," Jungkook lifted an arm, flexing it, "But these guns never fail me."

"That's too bad, I was hoping you'd want to keep me warm but I don't want you to overheat," You teased, looking at him invitingly and his eyes shifted to the open space next to you. To set it off, you even winked.

"You know what, now that you mention it, being surrounded by this sea breeze is making me a little chilly," Jungkook pretended to shiver as he got up.

"The sun's rising, I'm sure you'll warm up again really soon," You said as he sat next to you, touching your leg and making you put it on his lap.

"Who knows, I'm suddenly freezing, come closer," he rested his arm on the back of your seat, pulling you onto his lap, "I heard body heat is good to warm up."

"You can always just put your jacket on," You pretended to argue making him roll your eyes, almost sassily.

"But you look so much better in it," He brushed hair out of your face that the wind blew over, finger softly tracing the side of your face.

"I hate to admit this but... you're too good to be true," You said honestly, shifting your gaze away, "Like, too perfect."

"But I'm not," Jungkook argued quietly, "I'm just... I don't know, I'm not acting like myself—or maybe I am and haven't realized it but I think it's you. I want to impress you."

You didn't know how to respond but he didn't mind. He was more focused on the soft glimmer in your eye as you watched the sky turn a powder blue with orange, hearing the seagulls and light whooshing sound of the sails.

It's bad how affected you're leaving him and you don't even know it.

"Y/n," Jungkook tried getting your attention again, leaned his head against your shoulder. You didn't have to say anything to know what he was asking. The first soft brush of his lips against your jaw had you succumbing to his effect. He tilted your chin with the tip of his fingers, catching your lips with his, finally.

How do you describe it?

How do you explain how soft and tender his lips felt? How his fingers grazing your skin sent a shiver down your spine and how he was surprisingly very loving with his affection?

This man who you barely knew and trusted too much was making you melt in his arms, kissing you and making it feel like you've never been kissed before.

"This is bad," he mumbled against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath, eyes still closed, "I really like you."

You gave him one quick peck of a kiss, sitting up, "Tell me all about it then."

Jungkook couldn't he'll but crack a grin, licking the taste of you off his lips. He wouldn't be able to shut up if he did.

You're beautiful, stunning, truly.

Even with your face in sand or your hair a mess, a scowl or pout, just beautiful to him. It was so stupid for him to be swayed by that but it's obviously what pulled him in first.

You were so mean—he thought, at least—but it never stopped him from approaching you. It's like he knew it wasn't your intention to come off so cold and when you'd joke back with him, he could see the hint of mischief in your eyes. It made him want to push your buttons or say something he knew would get a reaction from you.

You're different and he wishes it didn't sound so stupid like he knew you would think if he ever told you but you are. You're like no one he's met—really met, beyond surface level interests or habits. You responded differently, looked at him differently, treated him different.

"I won't shut up if I do," he said honestly, "Can't I just show you, instead?"

"How suggestive," you giggled, letting him kiss you again. There was more force to it this time, like he really meant it. The first one was firm and teasing, really testing the waters when his hand disappeared into your hair to keep you from pulling away.

You were spending the golden hour of the late sunrise with Jungkook sailing on a boat in the ocean. The view was amazing and his lips were so soft.

His lip ring is surprisingly warm when it brushes your lips, and his tongue feels slick against yours. He held you closely making you feel secure and safe [?], and at one point you made it onto his lap, practically straddling him.

You pressed closer to him eagerly and the movement makes his hands travel toward your hips for support, his jacket long forgotten on the floor. The seat was hard underneath him but if he mentioned it you might pull away and that's the last thing he wanted in the moment. Jungkook liked kissing you, he liked feeling your lips trail down his jaw and toward his neck where you didn't shy away from leaving open mouth kissed against his Adam's apple or under his ear.

"Y/n—" his hands circled around you tighter, "Have you gotten a good look at the cabin?"

Your brows furrowed momentarily, looking down the short steps to the cabin door where a big bed was seen through the window, "No, want to show me?"

You began to get up from Jungkook's lap, making his hands slide off down your hip, leading you to the cabin.

Jungkook wasn’t as subtle as he hoped to be when he pressed you into his chest, peppering your shoulder with light and teasing kisses taking you further into the room. A small smile played on your lips when you turned to face him, circling your arms around his neck.

He didn’t question it when you walked him toward the bed instead, making him sit down as you kissed and straddling him once more. You were a good kissed and Jungkook could attest to that by the way your tongue slid between his lips to seek his out. It was a surprise for you to be so forward with him but he wasn’t complaining at all. If anything it made him want to take it further. He wasn’t shy with his touches anymore and you could feel his hands circle down to your butt, pressing you firmly into his lap.

It was hard to ignore his arousal from your simple make-out. It was evident in his shorts and it made you want to keep going. You began to rock your hips against him lightly, feeling his growing bulge apply pressure between your legs.

“Can we get this off?” Jungkook asked about your jacket first, feeling you miles away and when you unzipped it, you pulled off your shirt too leaving him breathless, “You’re bolder than I thought.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked, watching his fingers trace down your bare sides, looking at your bra and chest. His finger hooked into the hem of your jeans as if to teasingly ask if they can come off next and you gave him the go ahead, starting to unbutton his shirt for him.

“Never,” he sighed, eyes closing when your hands touched his muscular chest. His hands snuck under her jeans playing with your underwear and grinding your hips against his worn more purpose drawing out a small groan in the process.

When your hips began to move on their own, teasing his aching member, he leaned forward to kiss along your neck, finding your pulse points with ease and reaching behind you for the clasp of your bra to get it off next.

Your arms circled his neck, hugging his head close to feel his lips on your skin and moved your hips with more determined rhythm. You’d be lying if you said his kisses weren’t turning you on and sending shivers down your spine. Jungkook slid your bra off letting it hit the floor while you wrestled his opened shirt off his shoulders and hugged him in a kiss.

“You’re so sexy,” Jungkook whispered, kissing the soft mound of your breasts, “Even when I had you in the ground covered in sand that’s all I could think about.”

“And here I thought it was my personality that drew you in,” You teased, letting him finally turn you on your back beneath him. He pulled your jeans off leaving you in your small slither of panty.

“Trust me, it did,” Jungkook said, kissing along your thighs, “Hurt my feelings that the pretty girl from the beach couldn’t care less about me.”

“A real shot to your ego,” you raised your knees

Jungkook leaned forward to catch your lips in a kiss, hovering over your body, “It really was.”

A small gasp left your lips as you felt his hand trace down the curve of your sides, slipping into your underwear and feeling the soft slope of your nether region. Your thighs parted more, letting his finger tease your clit.

“I wasn’t too impressed in the beginning,” You joked, lifting your hips when you felt his finger begin to feel around your folds, surely finding where the slick began to puddle. He used the wetness to coat your clit, raising a light sigh from your lips there he swallowed in a kiss.

“I’m well aware,” Jungkook whispered against your lips. You rose your hips to meet his hand, finding some stimulation that made your body respond with raise bumps in pleasure, “What about now?”

As he asked, his coated middle finger finally pressed into your wet cunt, with his palm against your clit and grinding into it as he pushed his finger into the hilt. You dug your nails into his tatted forearm to ground yourself against the sudden feeling and holding back the loud moan that almost slipped. He smiled, clearly amused by your reaction. He maneuvered his hand around so his thumb could find your clit and with it covered in your arousal it made the slide so much easier.

Jungkook’s long finger slide into your pussy with slight restriction, curling when he pushed all the way in and finding that sweet spot that had your breath hitching and probing at it. You were at a loss for words and he loved it, it made him want to kiss you as he brought you pleasure with just his hand. He wasn’t even asking for a response anymore, he was just trying to tell you how he’s felt while he makes you feel good on an expensive sail boat in the sea.

The sunrise had long been forgotten and replaced by the thought of how good he made you feel and he was happy about that.

"Oh, fuck." You gasped, gripping his armas he hooks his finger at just the right angle. You didn’t even have to tell him that was the spot that made your toes curl, it’s like he just knew it.

"Like it?" He asked, repeating his previous action, kissing along your neck for added stimulation.

He could feel you on edge of orgasm by the way you pinched his arm but he didn’t care about the slight sting. He cared more for the glazed look in your eyes, walls tightening around his finger.

It’s like he knew exactly when the last push would be, and his pace grew more rough, ready to get you there and finally your body gave way to pleasure.

“Pretty,” Jungkook said softly, feeling your release around his hand, letting you ride out your high and pulling his hand back when you were ready. Your breathing was shallow and the sight of your breasts falling and rising with each breath was hypnotizing. When he pulled back, he couldn’t stand the constriction of his shorts anymore. Without thinking, he licked your release off his hand before yanking his shorts down along with his usual Calvin Kleins.

Jungkook didn’t say he was ready to go further, but you could tell just by the way his cock sprung free from its confines. It was pretty and long, not too think nor skinny and fit his physique perfectly. He stroked himself here and there for some friction but didn’t hurry you along. Instead, he let you catch your breath as he watched in awe at the fact that he had you in bed with him.

“Come here,” you motioned for him to come closer with your index finger and sat up, fully naked before him and getting him in the bed with you. Jungkook followed in a trance, kissing you thoughtlessly and nearly biting your lip in surprise when your fingers touched the tip of his dick, feeling the pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

You barely had your hand wrapped around his pretty cock, giving him a small jerk up his length when his fingers circled around your waist to stop you, “Not tonight.”

You tried to read the expression in his eyes but he just kissed you lovingly, “I want to feel you, all of you.”

“What a giver,” You said playfully, kissing the tip of his nose and laying back with him following after you. He held your legs apart, lining his cock at your entrance, “Can I? I’ll pull out.”

You gave a nod of your head, looking down as his cock pressed forward, aching to feel the tightness of your wet walls hugging him.

You’re not sure what came over you then, but the feel of his dick pushing past your entrance made you feel bold. Your leg hooked around his waist, pulling him forward and watching how his jaw went slack. Jungkook looked down at how eagerly you took him and his arms nearly gave out, eyes rolling as he processed the sudden pleasure.

You still needed a moment to adjust to his size and he practically fused himself to your body, trapping you beneath his muscular figure, “Fuck.”

His movements were slow at first, thrusting gently to find what felt good and what didn’t, running gentle hands over your breasts so he could feel the fullness of them. When he thrusted his hard length in, his thumbs were circled your nipples, pulling his cock out and pinching at them. Something about the leg you had around him drove him wild, feeling your territoriality over him even if there was a chance it meant nothing.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly at a particularly harsh thrust, scratching at his back unintentionally, “Feels good.”

Something was happening inside of him that he couldn’t explain. He wanted to say things he shouldn’t, things that were too soon to admit and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself. The only other way he could stop himself from sounding like a fool was with his mouth on you and the closest thing to him were your perky nipples.

Jungkook never slowed the steady pace he set fucking you but with the added pleasure to your chest, his tongue circling around your nipple and sucking lightly, had you seeing stars. You’d nearly forgotten where you were till you looked out the windows, seeing the clear sky and the pretty water making this all feel more surreal.

Jungkook hugged you close, hand gripping your thigh and inching it higher around himself as he fucked you rougher, taking pleasure in bringing you close again and this time around he couldn’t bother being as gentle. He wanted to, he swears, but he’s so turned on by you that he couldn’t be patient at all. You didn’t even seem to mind when his hips slammed into yours, turning you to lay on your side, fucking yourself on his cock with more vigor knowing he needed release too, and let him manhandle you however he wanted. His free hand snuck into your hair, pulling slightly when he dragged you into another kiss and groaned against your lips.

Neither of you had to say anything to know you were both close, and it made you impatient. You moaned at the roughness, letting yourself get lost in the feeling unripe you couldn’t take it anymore, once again cumming with little control of yourself. He held you so roughly to his body, not letting you go as you struggled to catch your breath and you knew it was taking everything in him to not let go inside you. That’s the only thing that had you pushing away from him, trying to sneak a hand down to touch him but the second you did, his cock spilled thick cum into your hand, creamy and white. You wanted a taste badly.

Jungkook moaned your name quietly, feeling pathetic to cum so easily by your hand but he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took him longer to bounce back than you, and when he opened his eyes he caught you pressing a finger to your tongue, taking a small taste that left him shuddering.

“Don’t do that,” his voice said, raspy and tired tone.

“You did it to me,” You said, licking your finger clean, “And you made a mess.”

“Sorry,” he couldn’t help but pout, looking surprisingly cute to you even with his hair a sweaty mess and the afterglow of sex on his naked body, “Kiss?”

A grin spreads over his face when you lean in to kiss him, happily kissing you back more gently now.

“Would I sound wimpy if I said I needed a nap?” It pained him to even ask but he was suddenly so tired and relaxed in your arms. It made him feel unmanly to even think to ask but he couldn’t help it, he could lay in bed all day with you if it was an option, “We can worry about breakfast later—perhaps when it’s consider lunch or an afternoon snack.”

You laughed softly, snuggling into him further, “Let me at least clean up a little and then we can sleep for as long as you want.”

Jungkook smiled happily, letting you leave to the bathroom as he hurriedly tugged the bedding off. He wasn’t too worried about the boat, knowing he properly set anchor and the water was calm today. If anything the light rocking of the boat could lull him to sleep if you were in his arms.

“Are you sick of me yet?” Jungkook asked, watching you drift in and out of sleep as he drove away from the shipping dock. It was the evening and the hours spent in the open sun was exhausting, even with how sweet it felt. At least he thinks you might feel that way.

If he were being honest, he could still be with you longer. There hadn’t been enough hours in the day for him, “Or do you think we could still get dinner?”

“We can, but I need a shower, I’m sticky and sweaty,” You said absentmindedly, catching the way he bit his lip with a smirk that had you smacking his arm, “Don’t be gross.”

“I didn’t say anything,” He laughed, grinning as he thought about the way you said his name when you were naked in his arms, “But, I want to take you to my family home. My parents are gone for the weekend and it’s closer than my apartment.”

“Are you hiding your apartment from me?” You asked jokingly.

“No, but I live with Jimin and I want to be selfish and have you to myself longer so your place is out of the question too,” Jungkook admitted.

“And what am I supposed to wear? I didn’t really pack clothes,” You looked down at his linen shirt you currently wore, only panties underneath thinking you’d be going home after the eventful day.

“Something mine, you look good in what’s mine,” Jungkook said with a wink, “I’ll make us something nice—maybe get something ordered…”

“Oh I guess.”

You didn’t question the drive away from the houses lining the beach in his pick up truck. You stared out the window and watched the view turn more scenic would hillsides and small rocky edges, more nature-esque.

Songs played quietly that Jungkook would sometimes hum along too with a perfect pitch that had looking over at him from time to time. When he would catch you looking, he’d stop immediately and tighten his hands over the steering wheel.

He was nervous.

His family home was empty and he could go to it whenever he pleased but did he really want to bring you along? Open up another side of himself just for a few more moments alone? Did you mean this much to him?

Swallowing his nerves, he turned down a private road with tall trees and white gravel. It stretched on for a mile before ending at private gates. You sat up, slightly more aware of what was going on when he lowered his window to type in some code, hearing someone speak through an intercom, ‘Welcome home, sir.’

He could feel your eyes on him and he just smiled, “Wash up first?”

“Please,” You said, looking away, staring straight ahead at the colonial house that appeared in view. It was obscenely large with endless windows and greenery surrounding it making it all the more intimidating.

This is his family home, yours couldn’t compare.

Still, you tried not to question it.

Jungkook didn’t bother driving back to the private garage, he pulled up to the circular driveway by the fountain of a water nymph and got out of his truck, opening the door for you. It should’ve dawned on him that something was going to happen. The lights were on when no one should be home.

Still, he’s already brought you this far.

“Jungkook?”

His hand stopped at the handle of your door, just barely pulling it open but with little room for you to step out. You stopped moving instantly, watching the way he visibly stiffened, face hardening as he looked off to the distance.

“You’re here, what a surprise.”

“Mom,” he turned around immediately, “I thought you guys weren’t home.”

“Well, if you would answer the phone, when I call, you would know your father’s trip was canceled,” a women in a tweed Chanel suit and a tight smile stepped down from the entrance, “You’ve brought company?”

As if being summoned, Jungkook looked at you, motioning for you to step out and although you didn’t want you, you did—undressed and exhausted. The woman was stunning and classy like you’d never seen, somewhat taken back that she was the mother of the beach boy you’ve met.

Not to mention, it was too early to meet anyone’s parents. It made you sick to your stomach even as you smiled politely, “Hello.”

“This is Y/n,” Jungkook reached for your hand, “We were just stopping by.”

“When you thought no one was home?” She asked, making you look at him. He was grown, clearly, but still scolded and questioned like a child.

Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could feel him squeeze your hand when her eyes traveled over your barely dressed figure. He at least had on a t-shirt that was in his truck and his shorts.

“Why don’t the two of you clean up, we’re having dinner on the terrace,” She said looking unimpressed, “I’ll have a maid find you something more appropriate.”

“Oh, we don’t want to bo—“

“We have guests so don’t make a scene, I already had to make an excuse for why you wouldn’t be here, you can’t leave now. Even if you do have sudden company.”

That shut Jungkook up quicker than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t that you couldn’t catch on to what was happening, but more so you could wrap your mind around the reality of it. You moved almost as robotically as he did, sneaking into the house unsure what was going on aside from doing as told. He took you into his bedroom, pulling you in the bathroom with him and washing up. His entire demeanor changed and you didn’t know what to do.

“Should I go? I could probably get Hoseok to get me,” You told him honestly. You weren’t upset — not yet. As far as you knew, Jungkook might have a complicated relationship with his parents meeting the person he’s sleeping with, especially considering how recent things are with you. Neither of you are ready to meet the family, it’s just fun summer things. You’d say the biggest shock was that Jungkook seemed to be wealthy and likes to keep that private but does that make you worried?

“No, I want you here with me,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard and opening the door to his room, finding something folded on the edge of his bed. He handed it to you without much thought as he got dressed.

It was nothing crazy, just a light colored sundress and you had to dry off quickly so you could join him downstairs. Part of you wanted to call your friends but what would it mean if you did?

“What a surprise, brother, and I see you’ve finally brought someone new along,” an arrogant voice spoke up from the large dinner table on the terrace. It was a candle lit dinner with six guests aside from the two of you and you immediately reconciled a familiar face.

“Hello, sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” Jungkook said stiffly, “This is Y/n.”

“We’ve met,” Yeaun said when the others looked at you confused. Their greetings were bland and uncaring but you tried not to think too hard on it, “On the beach, right?”

“Yes, I remember,” You tried to smile, looking at Jungkook just as confused as everyone.

“Yeaun is a family friend,” Jungkook explained to you.

“An ex-fiancée,” His mother said coldly, making him freeze.

Why was she saying this?

“Darling,” an older version of Jungkook with salt and pepper hair said to his wife in warning.

“We’re on good terms though,” Yeaun smiled tightly, “Things have been changing recently, haven’t they?”

She asked you like you would know—like you were the reason for it but you were too stuck on what she was to care.

Ex-what?

“So, are you still going with the firm?” A woman sitting next to his brother said to him. That made his brother laugh, “He’s still playing around Jin’s auto shop.”

“Is everyone already eating? What about us?” Jungkook looked at you suddenly, “Should we get served?”

The firm? What firm? What fiancée? What was going on?

“Y/n, what about you? Are you new in town? Who are your parents?” The dad asked, making all heads turn toward you, a member of who you assumed was house staff, began to serve you and Jungkook dinner.

“Dad,” Jungkook tried to say but he didn’t get very far.

“I’m just here for the summer, I’m from the city,” You told him with a smile.

“How’d you meet?” Jungkook’s mother asked.

“On the beach,” You told her plainly. She didn’t say anything in response but you could feel the way her eyes narrowed at you like she was trying to read you. You weren’t lying or anything but it felt like she didn’t believe you. Under the table, Jungkook’s hand touched your thigh but in all honesty you didn’t even want him to touch you. It’s not anything serious, you were just confused and uncomfortable in this situation. He should’ve just taken you home or let you call Hoseok.

“A city girl, huh? You must have a big job, right? What do you do?” His brother asked.

“I’m in between work right now,” You said honestly, just as you had told Jungkook who seemed to be open to that idea and understood why. Sometimes, doing the same routine in a career you didn’t have passion anymore left you drained and you needed a change of pace. You explained this to him and he made it all feel okay so why were you being looked at strangely?

“So wasting your time over here is what you want to be doing?” His mom asked.

Jungkook took a deep breath, wanting to speak up but unsure how to do so. He obviously hasn’t told you anything but his relationship with his family is complicated. The added guests made it all the worse. Has he always been such a coward?

“That’s what it seems like,” You said bitterly, looking over at Jungkook with a cold expression.

You don’t remember much of the rest of dinner, only that you hated every second of it and how you just wanted to go home. You checked out of all conversations after a while and watched the tension between them with little interest. What you’ve learned is that Jungkook is good at keeping things from others even when he begs to know more himself.

The irony, it was annoying. By the end of dinner, you didn’t care to know what any of them had to say, much less Yeaun who everyone continued to remind you was his ex that they all loved dearly. They were saying it for a reason, like if you wanted to take her place and be with Jungkook who belonged to a group of people who won’t let outsiders in.

“Well at least she’s pretty,” you remember being told.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Jungkook said after dinner but you didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead, you led the way to his truck so he could take you home.

The car ride was so eerily silent that it felt deafening. He tried and tried to talk to you but you just ignored him, not caring at all for whatever might come out of his mouth and he can’t really blame you.

“You lied to me,” You said finally, staring holes into his dashboard.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jungkook admitted, “Everything I’ve said to you is true.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking out the dark window, “Just take me home.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook reached across the middle console for your hand but you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted away from him even more, “I’m sorry, we should’ve just gone somewhere el—“

“Look, it was never going to work out anyway so just take me home and we can both go on with our lives because clearly we’re nothing alike at all,” You said bitterly, “I was just dumb enough to believe we are. It’s been a long day.”

He wanted to argue but for the first time since he’s met you, he’s left silent. He’s a coward, he’s aware of that now and it felt sickening to realize it finally. He’s always been the type to do what he’s told, follow the plan his parents have set out for him and this is the first time he’s realizing how much he hates it.

When the truck pulled up to the front of your house, he began to unbuckle his belt, quietly saying, “I’ll walk you to the d—“

The car door slammed shut in the middle of his words and although he knew it was better for him to give you space, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let you walk off on him without trying to really hear him out—just let him get his thoughts together. As pathetic as it sounds, Jungkook feels like a kid again. He feels anxious to be ignored or scolded.

Without a care for gentleness, he swung his side door open to the large truck and got down to follow after you, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize they would be home and if I did I wouldn’t have invited you over. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“That’s not the problem, Jungkook,” you said back to him, “The problem is that you’re so secretive about everything and fine, whatever, you don’t have to tell me but don’t act like you want to know anything about me then if I can’t expect the same.”

You released a sigh at his silence, turning away, “Go home.”

Your front door slammed in his face shutting him out and he could see people staring through the window; probably overhearing everything and he wanted to disappear. When had things gotten so complicated for him?

He missed the days when he didn’t have anything to worry about but now that he’s starting to see the people around him more clearly, he’s realizing he doesn’t like it at all.

✧

It took you days to think about Jungkook again, mostly because you wanted to ignore him and he was making it easy for you. He has only messaged and called a couple times before he got the hint that you don’t want to talk to him and gave up.

You can’t tell if you preferred that or wished he kept trying but you had to move on. The two of you weren’t dating, you hooked up on a boat before realizing his family are pretentious assholes and wanted nothing to do with him now.

You know he’s not his family but at the same time these are people he surrounds himself with and if he was attracted to someone like Yeaun, there was no way he was into you too. You barely know her but you know enough to see that you’re nothing alike.

“What are you looking at?” Hoseok asked, looming over your shoulder.

“Apartments, I still can’t find anything good, I think I need to go home for a few days and do some in-person tours,” You told him with a sigh, scrolling through listings, sitting alone in the beach themed living room that looked fresh out of a cape cod magazine.

“It’s not a quick commute,” He said, “Besides, I already said you can stay with me till we find you a place, there’s no rush.”

“I know, but there’s nothing better to do,” You said with a shrug.

“It’s called avoiding,” Hyeri said, sitting on the edge of the couch, “So Y/n’s probably not gonna come back if she leaves now. You’re mad at Jungkook.”

“No, I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, “That’s over and I haven’t done anything but laze around all day. I need to get my shit together.”

You just want to go home.

“What’s up with you? You’ve looked mad all day,” Jimin pointed out as he mindlessly dug his feet into the sand. He’s dragged Jungkook out after days of not seeing him but his friend couldn’t care less about the beach or hanging out with him. He actually didn't want to hang out with anyone.

“Is it the thing from the other night?” Jimin asked like it was so simple, “Yeaun was talking about it, so you’ve introduced your new girl to the family and it didn’t go so well?”

“Jimin.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really my friend?” Jungkook asked, sitting at the bottom of one of the net posts, squinting up at the sun.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been around since you were in diapers, you’re like a brother to me,” Jimin said with a laugh, “I just don’t agree with some of the decisions you make.”

“Like?” He pressed for more.

“I don’t know, I just think you have a lot going for you and lately you’ve been acting like you don’t,” Jimin said, shrugging, “You passed the Bar Exam a while ago and instead of going to your dad’s firm you’re wasting time at Jin’s. You don’t answer the phone when your family calls and you ignore your friends for…”

“Say it.”

“For some chick you don’t know,” Jimin scoffed, “I don’t get it. It’s always been you and I, Chaehi and Yeaun. Always. Since we were kids and suddenly you break it off with one of the only girls who’s been here for you and find someone new to entertain yourself with. It’s weird.”

“Asshole,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, kicking off the ground and leaving his friend behind. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he just wanted to be alone.

Were you really just some girl? Is that what everyone thought? Yes, things had been incredibly easy with you but did that mean you weren’t anything more than a fling? As dramatic as it sounds, every interaction with you has been probably the best he’s ever had.

You’re funny, pretty, smart, and so much more than he ever imagined. You pulled him in and pushed him away in the best way possible. Of course it’s been strange getting rejected but you do it in a way that tells him to keep going. You were always there to listen to his obnoxious flirting and when he did decide to tell you anything about himself, you didn’t judge.

He’s so stupid for not doing the same. He wanted you to open up to him because he wanted to get closer to you but he didn’t allow himself to do it too. It was unfair so he understands why you’re mad but he can’t stand it.

He wants to call you but would you want to listen?

Jungkook found himself walking toward the boardwalk hoping the bustling energy from midday was enough to distract him. He thinks you remind him of something different, being somewhere different where he didn’t have to worry so much about what he did or who he was with. Jimin’s right that lately Jungkook hasn’t been doing anything to be apart of his family’s plans for him. He’s kind of been trying to live in the moment and clearly that wasn’t so bad. That’s how he met you and besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about his future. He just doesn’t see it here in this small town where everyone knows his name. He sees himself somewhere far in the city where he could just blend in with everyone else and do what he wants to do, be with who he wants to. It’s you, it’s seriously you.

You’ve opened up his eyes a little and he hates that his lack of honesty has pushed you away. He can’t even blame it on the uncomfortable dinner because if he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve done more. He can’t deny that there’s something up with him and he has no doubt in his mind that you have something to do with it. Barely knowing you has done so much more for him than the people he’s known all his life.

Your best friends wanted you to forget about your plans on leaving, knowing you too well to believe you would come back. You’re not the type to do so. If you set your mind on leaving, even for a short time, you wouldn’t come back especially knowing you could run into Jungkook whenever. Maybe you were a coward too because all you ever wanted to do was run away when things get complicated and the last thing you had wanted was for this trip to get that way too.

They dragged you out of the house for a late lunch that you weren’t even hungry for and as a way to distract you but it did the complete opposite of that. Instead, you were brought to that restaurant you came to with Jungkook and the same server who you’ve seen now talk with a girl Yeaun was always around. They were friends and it should’ve been the first sign that you would never get him. You were never part of the plan around here, you were a step back to everyone involved with him and it made you bitter.

How’d you catch the attention of someone so unavailable?

“Come on, I haven’t bought a single thing here, I’ve been too busy working on my tan,” Hyeri said, pulling you along behind her to a clothing stand of sundresses, “We’ve got a few more weeks here, I think it’s time I fit the vibe, right?”

“Yeah,” You told her, looking through the rack of dresses absentmindedly. You wandered away just a little, to a table filled with jewelry and ran your fingers over certain metals and gems. You weren’t thinking much on what was going on around you, too distracted choosing between gold and silver to notice the person standing yards away looking stunned.

For the first time in over a week, Jungkook has found you again, on the beach, looking as breathtaking as usual. After all you’ve been avoiding him, he can’t help but hesitate. Does he approach you or not?

“Y/n?”

You looked up, brows furrowed slightly at who stood in front of you, “Yeaun.”

“Hey! How good to see you,” She smiled her usual tight smile that never quite reached her eyes. Up close you could see just how perfect she must seem to everyone from her height to her figure and tone of voice. She usually wore gold accessories and bikini tops or dresses. She was your perfect ‘Girl Next Door’ but if you paid enough attention to some of the things she said, you’d see how backhanded it all seemed.

“It was such a surprise to see you the other night. I guess none of us knew you were with Jungkook,” Yeaun said it so casually even if you could tell she was prying, “Where is he by the way?”

“Why don’t you ask his mother? The two of you seem close,” You tried not to sound bitter but you’re sure your body language gave away that you were. You searched for Hyeri who was looking at dresses on herself in the mirror and Hoseok left to get snow cones so once again, you were alone in her presence.

“Yeah, sorry about that, our parents go way back,” Yeaun said with a wave of her hand, “It’s a small town, y’know. Everyone knew we were high school sweethearts and when we got engaged everyone was so excited. You can imagine their surprise when we broke it off—sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about this again. I’m sure Jungkook has said enough.”

“It might sound strange but he doesn’t bring you up at all,” You told her, failing to say how you haven’t talked to him, “I guess he got over it a long time before anyone else did.”

“I guess so,” her stupid smile once again, “I like you, you’re good for him and I’m sorry if his family seemed closed off. They’re kind of exclusive with who they bring around. They don’t want just anyone around their sons. I’m sure you can see why, Jungkook is perfect, right? A lawyer in the making, athletic, kind…”

“Silver or gold?” You asked, holding up two different sets of earrings. She blinked in surprise, choosing one and trying to carry on, “What I mean is, he’s the whole package so everyone wants him but he also has a lot of responsibilities. If someone isn’t able to stand behind them all and support him… maybe they’re not the right fit—especially if they won’t stick around.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, setting the earrings back down and smiling, amused by her audacity, “Who broke it off with who?”

“It was mutual.”

“Doesn’t sound like it was,” You said with a smile, beginning to walk away from her, “But don’t worry, I don’t usually like competing for someone’s attention. I guess I didn’t realize you did, so good luck.”

“Meaning?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Meaning, you’re wasting your breath talking to me because I don’t care what you have to say,” You said sweetly, “But it was so nice seeing you again, hopefully next time we’ll have something new to talk about.”

With that, you left her behind, nearly walking past Hyeri on the way, “Where you going?”

“My phone’s dying, I’m going the house,�� you told her quickly, continuing to leave before anyone else could run into you.

“What’d you say to Y/n?” Jungkook asked, pushing his way through the crowds of people, getting to the stand too late and watching you walk away.

“Nothing,” Yeaun raised her hands in feigned surrender, “I was just catching up. Why so worried?”

“Where’s she going?” Jungkook asked Hyeri, ignoring Yeaun who called for him.

“To the house?” Hyeri said, confused by whatever she missed but she couldn’t even ask when Jungkook practically ran after you.

You cut through the beach instead of taking the long route down the street. You walked farther and farther away from him but he never stopped.

“Y/n! Can we talk?” He asks, catching you by surprise but you didn’t even act like it. You merely threw him a glance before walking faster.

“I’m kind of in a hurry,” You lied, stepping over the grassy parts in the white sand where you could see more residential properties.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am, I should’ve been more up front from the beginning but I swear I didn’t keep things from you to hurt you,” Jungkook said, not stopping his pace even when he can see your house in the distance.

“It’s fine, I’m over it,” You told him, not turning back again as you looked up at the back deck of your house. You still walked closer to down the shore than the trail but you would get there soon.

“But I’m not, I… can’t stand the thought of you being done with me,” Jungkook said honestly, “Since I’ve met you all I can do is think about you and I’m kicking myself over letting you find things out in a hard way. I don’t like the way you were talked to and I should’ve said more but I didn’t and I regret it so much.”

“Jungkook, I don’t care,” you groaned, whipping around to face him, “I don’t care that you kept things from me. I don’t care that there’s something seriously wrong with your family or your ex fiancée. I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m not good enough for you and do you want to know why? Because it’s the summer and I’m not from here and it was fun to fool around in the moment but it’s too complicated now. I don't want anything to do with it. Are you getting it now? I want to go home and forget all about this.”

“You want to leave?” He asked, getting closer and closer, “And what happens then? We just never see each other again because I didn’t mean anything to you?”

“I guess if that’s how you’re seeing it—“

“Bullshit,” He scoffed, “I don’t care how long we’ve known each other or not, you want me just as much as I want you but you’re letting everything else get in the way. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say or do to express that.”

“I’m leaving,” You argued, stepping away, “I’m going back to my normal life and you can go back to yours. Stop making this a bigger deal than it was.”

“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you’re the best thing to happen to me in a while and the thought of you just leaving doesn’t sit right with me? What if I say I don’t want this to just be a summer thing and I will follow you wherever you go if it means I get to talk to you more?” Jungkook kept going.

“Oh my god, Jungkook. Open your eyes! Join the real world, please!” You groaned, too frustrated to bother getting away, “We still don’t know much about each other, clearly. You live in this perfect little bubble with people who care about you and have plans for you. Why can’t you see that? Why are you wanting to throw that away for someone you barely know?”

“I’m not mad, I promise,” You tried to say, “Our lives are just too different and I’m ready to go back to mine—“

Your words were cut off by the rough pull into his arms. Jungkook’s touch was tender yet forceful, dragging your face toward his until your lips clashed messily and you kissed him back. Like a fool, you kissed him too despite everything you were saying.

It made your heart race, practically feeling his want for you and unable to help yourself from succumbing to it.

He can’t remember how long the kiss was, but long enough for his chest to grow heavy with a need to breathe that he had to pull away. His forehead rested against yours, “If you still want to leave… okay. I can’t make you stay but I really want you to, Y/n.”

You didn’t say anything, knowing you did want to leave. At this point it was more for yourself. No matter how harsh they were, they were right. You needed to get your act together and stop avoiding the problems in your life and that meant you needed to go home.

“And I promise that I’m going to see you again whether it be here or somewhere else,” Jungkook said.

FOUR WEEKS LATER

Jungkook was enamored by city life, he’s grown to learn about himself. Something about the tall skyscrapers and bustling traffic excited him like no other while other people hated them. Of course he missed the beach, surfing, volleyball, his friends… but this was for himself. He needed to do something on his own even if it meant doing something unimaginable but it was for the better.

He misses working with cars but he knows better. He put all that work into law school just so he could avoid it and do something else and he needed that to stop. Even if he didn’t work in his father’s firm, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his foot in the door somewhere else.

After you left and all his distractions were gone, he was able to focus more on what he wanted to do. He got on his laptop to look at internships at other law firms and one day, in his endless searching, he found a small office to work in. It was in the city and it didn’t take him long to pack up his things and go to it. It started problems—of course— but it didn’t stop him, especially knowing you were somewhere here too.

You’ve barely talked since you moved back but he still misses you. He missed you and him on the beach or sailing in the sea. He misses making you laugh or roll your eyes and he wonders how you’re doing. He kept in touch with Hoseok and Hyeri after you left and when they followed suit at the end of vacation, he wanted to ask them about you but he knew better. He knows you weren’t just a fling but maybe one day you’ll come back and give it another shot.

“Iced Americano?”

“I didn’t order one,” Jungkook said as he sat alone at a table in a nice cafe. He didn’t look up until the cup was set down in front of him and when he was ready to tell the barista it wasn’t for him, he froze.

“I know, you don’t really give me ‘Coffee Drinker’ vibes but I figured it was worth a shot,” You sat down across from him.

“Are you stalking me?” He asked, dumbfounded and confused but more excited than anything. He couldn’t believe you were here, at the same place as him by chance.

“Well, I was going to ask the same, this is my usual stop before work and I’ve never seen you here before,” You said, continuing the conversation with him like it never ended.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, “Well, you see, I’m new to town and trying new places since this is on my way to work.”

“Is it?” You asked, “You must live around here.”

“As it turns out I do,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “It’s a recent move but one I don’t regret.”

“How are you?” You asked with a shy smile and flushed cheeks, the autumn air beginning to take over.

“Better now—after this coffee I mean,” he teased, taking a sip and scrunching his face in disgust.

You bit your lip in thought, “Actually um, it’s good I’ve run into you. I think there’s some things we should talk about but I have to get to work soon.”

“Well I still have your number, and we can always catch up over dinner?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” You smiled nervously, standing up, “Tonight?”

That made his heart race, “It’s a date.”

::.

holy shit that took forever for me to update

idk how I feel about this but also after a while I think too hard on my work and can’t look at it anymore so please lmk when you think

permanent taglist

most of u are new but I tried to include some of my old, active members of the taglist and if I forgot about u pls lmk <3

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @maryy1300 @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @tridha345 @ily4jknity @ivygguk @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @eunhee-jk @aindrila @cherrymoonlightt @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpop @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife

[itneverendshere]

Just saw the new popular movie ’’This ends with us’’ and I beg of you to draw from the actual beautiful love story, so pure! So same concept of the love story: Pouge!Rafe has been kicked out by his mom and her abusive boyfriend, Kook!Reader sees him homeless & hiding. Reader does small acts of kindness, which builds up to a romance but they separate for whatever reason (could be because they get discovered, he joins the military, like the movie, or something different). It could also be reversed with Pouge!Reader instead being homeless, you pick! Years go by, Reader meets an abusive partner, she bumps into a now grown up Rafe. Lots of angst, lingering feelings and longing, he sees the signs of abusive and gets protective. But without the movie plots of reader getting pregnant and married) I adore and worship your writing skills, truly have a gift to make you feel all the emotions!! <3333333

INVISIBLE STRING - r.c series (one)

i loooove this request because pogue!rafe so i decided to turn into a mini series (two or three parts). im personally not a fan of it ends with us, but i love your requests bc it's still very different from the original plot.

pairing: pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook reader. chapter warnings: domestic violence; absent parents; angst; fluff.

Rafe was born rough around the edges.

There was never any sugar-coating about it; with his hair always messy, sun-bleached and salty, and his hands perpetually stained with the grime of whatever job he'd taken up that week, Rafe Cameron had never known peace. He moved like a stray dog that had learned to fend for itself, his eyes always scanning for trouble. 

Most people kept their distance, and he liked it that way.

There wasn’t much softness in his life. His mom tried her best, he supposed, but that wasn’t saying much. She had a new boyfriend every few months, and they were all the same — mean, drunk, and looking for a fight. Rafe learned early on that if you couldn’t fight back, you were nothing. So he fought. A lot.

He fought the men who walked into their house at night, stinking of cheap whiskey and cigarettes. He fought the kids at school who called him trash, who mocked the way his clothes never quite fit or how he always seemed a little too hungry. But mostly, he fought himself — every time he looked in the mirror and saw his father’s eyes staring back at him. The man who left and never looked back. 

Another piece of shit. 

He kept his head down, kept his hands busy, and kept his mouth shut unless he had something to say. He wasn’t nice. Nice got you nowhere; nice got you used, broken, and left behind. He had seen it too many times to believe otherwise. The world wasn’t a kind place, and he wasn’t a kind guy. 

Most days, he’d finish work covered in sweat and salt, with just enough money in his pocket to get by. He'd dropped out of school years ago and head to the docks, sit on the edge, and smoke a cigarette while the sun dipped below the horizon.

The only real moment of peace he had.

Rafe took what work he could find — fixing up old fishing boats for the few Kooks who’d dare come down his side of the Cut, pulling shrimp nets in the dead hours of the morning, his back aching and his muscles screaming at such a young age, but at least it was better than being home. If he could call it that.

Home, where his mom was probably passed out again, where the latest loser she'd dragged in might be passed out on the couch or looking for a fight.

He could hear them shouting before he even got to the door. His mom’s voice screaming her throat out, and he could hear something crashing inside — a glass, maybe, or a plate. Then came the matching scream of the new boyfriend, Tony or Tommy or something — they all blurred together after a while. Rafe paused on the porch, his hand hovering over the door handle, debating whether it was worth going in at all.

Inside, she was standing in the middle of the living room, her face flushed, her blonde hair a mess. Tony stood over her, fists clenched, his face red and veins bulging in his neck. 

Rafe knew that look. 

He’d seen it before — seen it in a dozen men who thought they could push their weight around, thought they could break whatever they wanted.

“What the hell’s going on?” 

Tony turned, eyes narrowing. “None of your damn business, boy.”

Rafe took a step forward, his fists balling up instinctively. “If it’s in my house, it’s my business.”

His mom spun around to face him, her eyes wild and desperate. “Just stay out of it, Rafe. You always have to make things worse!”

He felt the sting of her words. He should be used to it by now. “I’m not the one who brought this piece of shit in here.”

That was all it took. Tony lunged at him, shoving him hard against the wall. Rafe felt the air rush out of his lungs as pain flared in his back. “You watch your mouth, punk,” Tony hissed, his face inches from his, his breath a disgusting mix of beer and god knows what.

“Or what?” Rafe shot back. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was how to keep his anger in check — at least most of the time.

Tony’s eyes flicked to his mom, like he was making a point, and she just stood there, watching. He’d lost his faith in her a long time ago but it still blew him away how she never lifted a finger to help him. 

“Get out,” she said finally, hand moving to point towards the bust-up wooden door.

“What?” Rafe blinked, caught off guard. He must’ve heard her wrong.

“You heard me. Get out!” She was shouting now, her voice high-pitched and desperate. “I can’t have you here, always stirring things up! You make everything worse!”

It had to be a fucking joke. He was the only one bringing in money to pay the rent, the only one who kept the house clean enough so it wouldn’t look or smell like someone died in there. Paid the hospital bills when they hit her too hard. He did everything, always. 

Tony shoved him again, harder this time, toward the open door. “You heard her. Get the hell out.”

Rafe stumbled backward, catching himself before he fell. He looked at his mom, his chest tightening in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. “You’re really gonna choose him over your own son?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Just go, Rafe. I can’t do this anymore.”

He forced himself to nod. He almost wanted to laugh. “Fine,” he muttered, pushing past Tony and heading for the door. “Don’t call me when he sends you to the hospital again.”

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. The moment he stepped outside, the wind hit his face like a slap, the kind that made his eyes sting and his heart pound. Things had never gotten to this point before. He would’ve rather taken a beating then get kicked out. 

He walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he couldn’t go back. Not now. Not ever. He’d die before he begged his mother or Tony to let him in that shithole again. His feet took him along the edge of town, past the marina and the fishing docks, and eventually, he found himself in the wealthy part of town, near Figure 8.

It was ironic, almost funny.

The Kooks lived here, the ones who wouldn’t give him the time of day if they saw him on their streets. And here he was, a beat-up pogue, walking right through their territory, angry and suddenly so damn tired.

He spotted an old, abandoned house, sitting at the end of a street where the mansions stood tall and proud. He had walked by it a few times before and noticed it had been empty for years, the paint peeling off in strips, the windows boarded up, and the grass overgrown. He crossed the street, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, and pushed the broken gate open. The hinges squeaked loudly, proving just how long it had been since someone had been there.

The front door was unlocked; it opened with the slightest push. Inside, it smelled of dust and mold, but it was dry, and it was quiet. It was enough. He made his way to a small room in the back, what must have once been a kitchen. There was an old sofa left behind, covered in a dirty sheet. He pulled the sheet off, threw it in a corner, and sank onto the sofá, finally breathing properly. 

He stayed there, staring at the cracked ceiling and the empty walls, wondering how the fuck he was going to get himself out of this one. 

For the two next days, he moved carefully, quietly, in and out of the house. He didn’t want anyone to know he was staying there. He wasn’t getting his ass thrown into jail again. He found a way in through the back window, kept to the dimly lighted areas, and avoided the main roads. He didn't have much — a few changes of clothes, some cash from odd jobs, and his dad’s old pocketknife, the only thing he had left of the bastard.

It was on the third day that he saw you.

He was sitting on the front steps, having a cigarette, when he heard the sound of a bike chain clicking. He glanced up, and there you were — riding a yellow bike, hair pulled back, and eyes glued to him as you pedaled down the street.

He stiffened, quickly stubbing out the cigarette, his heart rate picking up. You were one of them, a Kook, from one of the mansions just a block away. He’d seen you before, always biking around town, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone.

He didn’t know you, didn’t even know your name, but he knew the type.

You saw him, too, and slowed your bike. His first thought was to get up and disappear back into the house, but he knew that would look suspicious. So he stayed put, trying to look casual, as if he belonged there.

You stopped a few feet away, still on your stupid bike, one foot on the ground to steady yourself.

“You live here?” You asked, not in a mean way, just curious.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he lied, “Why?”

You shrugged, “Just… didn’t think anyone did. Looks pretty empty.”

He tensed, waiting for you to say something like, “I’m going to tell someone,” or worse, to start asking more questions. But instead, you just gave him another curious look, nodded, and biked away.

Weird girl.

The next day, you were back. This time, you had a bag with you. He watched you approach, wary. You stopped in front of the house and took something out of the bag — a sandwich, wrapped in paper, and a bottle of water.

You held them out to him, a gentle smile on your face, “Figured you might be hungry.”

He thought maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel better, some Kook guilt thing, like feeding the stray cat in the alley so you could pat yourself on the back for being such a nice person.

And he hated that. Hated you for even thinking he needed your stupid charity. So he gave you every reason to leave him alone.

When you handed him that sandwich, he barely even looked at you.

He just grabbed it and then turned his back, heading into the house without another word. But the next day, you were there again. And the next.

He started making it obvious he didn’t want you around. He’d grunt when you said hello, roll his eyes when you tried to make small talk.

One time, you offered him an apple, and he snatched it out of your hand without a word, just to see if you’d get annoyed enough to leave. You didn’t. Like some fucking saint.

Instead, you kept coming back, like some sort of annoying, persistent fly he couldn’t swat away. Every time, your smile was a little nicer, your eyes a little more curious.

He didn't get it. Why the hell were you still trying? Didn’t you get it? He didn’t want you here. Didn’t want to talk to you. Didn’t need shit from a Kook.

“What’s your problem?” he muttered one day when you showed up with a bag of groceries.

You blinked, “What do you mean?”

“You keep coming back here like I asked you to. I didn’t. I don’t need your charity.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, still not leaving. “I’m not doing charity. I jut figured you could use a little help.”

He scoffed, turning his back on you again. “I don’t need anything from you, princess.”

You hesitated, then placed the bag on the steps anyway. “Well, it’s here if you do.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes again. “Great. Another pity gift from the rich kid. Thank you so much,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You clenched your jaw, but still didn’t leave. He expected you to finally get the hint, but you just shook your head and walked away.

The next day, you there you were. And the day after that. Always bringing something, always with that same annoying, stubborn smile.

By the end of the week, he was done. You rolled up with another bag, and before you could even open your mouth, he let out a loud groan, throwing his head back. 

"For fuck’s sake, don’t you have anything better to do than bother me every damn day?”

That was it — you snapped.

Your eyes flared, and you stepped in closer, voice getting louder. "Will you just eat the damn food before I throw it in your face?" You shouted, cheeks going red with frustration.

He blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t expect you to clap back.

You’d been silent and too sweet for his liking. Most Kooks would’ve run back to their fancy houses by now, but you were still standing your ground, fists clenched, breathing heavy. Cute.

He almost laughed. Almost. “What’s your deal? You think you’re some kind of hero bringing food to the poor pogue? You think you're gon' save me or something?”

You glared at him “I’m not trying to save you, jerk! I’m just trying to be a decent human! Maybe you should try it sometime!”

He stared at you, face set in a deadpan, but he felt something— something he hadn’t felt in a while. Respect, maybe? But for some reason, he didn’t tell you to get lost.

Instead, he snatched the bag out of your dainty small hand. “Fine. I’ll eat your stupid food. But don’t think this changes anything,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Oh, trust me, I don’t.”

You both stood there in this weird silence for a minute, glaring at each other. Then you shook your head, and smiled like you hadn’t read him to filth ten seconds ago. “See you tomorrow, Rafe.”

What? You knew his name?

He watched as you rode away and he realized he was grinning, just a bit. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel completely alone.

And somehow, that pissed him off even more.

Days turned into weeks, and you kept showing up, like a plague.

No matter how much Rafe grumbled, no matter how many times he rolled his eyes or muttered under his breath, you just kept coming back. It was always something small — fruit, a bottle of water, a warm meal in a container. Every time you showed up, you had that same stubborn look in your eyes, like you weren’t going to back down no matter how much he pushed you away.

He hated to admit it, but he started to look forward to your little visits. He hated even more that he noticed things about you. Like how your hair fell in your face when you leaned over to hand him something or how your laugh sounded when he said something sarcastic. He noticed the way you seemed to care, even when he made it clear he didn’t want you to.

One day, you showed up with a duffel bag. Rafe looked at you suspiciously as you parked your bike and slung the bag over your shoulder.

“What now?” he grunted, eyeing the bag like it might bite him.

He could tell you were nervous and that weirded him out even more. Since when could he read your mind? 

“I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come to my house. Just to shower and get some real rest. My parents are out of town, and y’know, you could use it.”

He stared at you like you’d grown another head. “You want me to come to your house?”

You nodded, looking a little unsure now, hands tightening around the bag’s strap, “Yeah. Just for a bit. I thought you might like a break from this place.”

He scoffed. “And why the hell would I want to do that? You think I’m gonna be some charity case you can parade around to make yourself feel good?”

You sighed, clearly getting frustrated. “No, Rafe. I just thought… I just thought you might want a hot shower. But if you don’t, that’s fine.”

He usually cleaned himself up near the docks, but the water was freezing during this time of the year. Every time it felt like his balls were going to drop to the floor. So yeah, a hot shower in a big mansion sounded tempting.

Even if he didn’t want to give you that satisfaction.

A hot shower… a real bed, even for a little while. He hadn’t had that in what felt like forever. He looked at you again, trying to figure out if this was some kind of sick twisted plan, but all he saw were those stupid glowing eyes staring him down like he’d be dumb to refuse you. 

“Fine,” he muttered, standing up. “But just for a shower. And if you try anything weird, ’m outta there.”

Your nose scrunched up, “As if.”

Your house was everything he expected from a Kook — big, clean, and way too fancy. He felt out of place the moment he stepped through the gigantic door, like he was tracking mud on a white carpet. You led him upstairs, pointing out the bathroom.

“You can use this one. Towels are in the cabinet, and I’ll leave some clothes outside if you want them.”

Rafe grunted in response, still unsure why he was even there. He went into the bathroom and locked the door, leaning against it for a moment. The place smelled like lavender or some other fancy soap he couldn’t name. He turned on the shower, and the hot water poured out instantly, filling the room with steam.

He stripped off his dirty clothes and stepped under the water, hissing as the heat hit his skin. But then he relaxed, letting the water wash away the grime, the salt, the exhaustion he’d been carrying for so long. He stayed under the spray longer than he should have, almost losing track of time.

When he finally got out, he saw the clothes you’d left outside the door — a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, nothing flashy, but clean. He put them on and headed back downstairs, finding you in the kitchen, making coffee.

You looked up when he entered, “Feel better?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

You handed him a cup of coffee, and he took it reluctantly, still waiting for the catch. But you just sat across from him at the kitchen island, sipping your own cup, not saying anything.

He found himself watching you, noticing the little things again.

The way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the way your fingers tapped against the mug when you were thinking. He hated that he was noticing, hated that he found any of it interesting. He took a sip of the coffee and scowled when it tasted good, because of course it did.

“You do this shit for everyone?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked at him, “What do you mean?”

“This.” He gestured around. “Invite random guys to your house, make them coffee, act like you care.”

You laughed, a light sound that made his chest feel weird. “No. Just you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just looked away, taking another sip of coffee. He didn’t do nice. He wasn’t used to nice. This was weird.

You kept doing these little things for him — small acts of kindness he didn’t ask for and definitely didn’t deserve. You’d leave extra food by the house when you knew he’d be there, sometimes even a blanket or a pillow you said you didn’t need. You’d offer to let him use the house again, and every once in a while, he’d accept, hating how much he craved the simple comfort of a shower or a bed.

And all the while, he stayed the same — gruff, sarcastic, always trying to push you away with his attitude. But you didn’t go. You took his crap and came back.

One night, after a particularly rough day where everything seemed to go wrong, he found himself standing outside your house again. Your parents were out of town again, and he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He hated that he was here, hated that he needed this, but he knocked anyway.

You opened the door, your face lit up with that familiar smile. “Rafe,” you said, voice warm. “Come in.”

He liked the way his name sounded on your lips.

He hesitated, but he did. You led him to the living room, and he noticed a few things this time — the family photos on the walls, a vase of flowers on the table, the soft throw blanket on the couch.

Your home was nothing like his, but it felt… safe.

They sat in silence for a while, and he noticed how you didn’t bother him with questions, didn’t try to fix anything. You just sat there, close but not too close, letting him breathe. He found himself looking at you more, catching the way your lips curled up at the corners, how your eyes seemed to soften whenever they landed on him. He felt something strange, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He sat on that big couch, staring at his busted-up hands, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest. You were just a few feet away, eyes flicking over to him now and then, like you were waiting for him to speak. But he didn’t know what to say.

He felt… uncomfortable. Not because of the place, or you. No, never because of you. But because of this strange feeling that kept crawling up his spine, making him feel restless.

You were sitting on the arm of the chair, legs tucked under you, looking at him with that familiar, gentle expression that made him feel like maybe he wasn’t such a screw-up. He didn’t know what to do with that. You were the kind of girl who should have nothing to do with him. Yet here you were, again and again, showing up, like you didn’t know any better.

He cleared his throat, trying to push back whatever weird tension was building between you. “So… your parents,” he muttered. “They’re out of town a lot?”

You nodded, sighing, “Yeah. They travel for work. I’m used to it.”

“Must be nice,” he said, but his voice came out rougher than what he was going for. He didn’t know how to do gentle and he was still half-convinced you were going to kick him out or tell him you had enough of his crap.

“Sometimes,” you replied, “But it gets lonely, too.”

He wasn’t expecting that. He glanced at you trying to read you. He knew you weren’t looking for sympathy; you were just stating a fact.

He wasn’t sure what made him ask, but he did anyway. “Why do you keep helping me?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I— I don’t know. I guess… I just see something in you. Something good.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “There’s nothin' good in me.”

“There is,” you insisted. “I see it. Even if you don’t.”

He felt his chest tighten, and he had to look away. “You’re wrong.”

“Maybe,” you said quietly, “but I don’t think so.”

He feel your eyes on him, could feel the way his pulse was racing under his skin. He hated it. Hated that he wanted to believe you, wanted to feel whatever it was you seemed to see in him.

“You’re too good,” he muttered. “Too good for someone like me.”

You laughed softly. “You don’t know me as well as you think, Rafe.”

He glanced up, surprised by the boldness in you. You were so soft most days it always threw him off when you took the reins. You were closer now, leaning forward just slightly, eyes fixed on his. He felt that breathtaking tension tightening again.

Before he could think better of it, he spoke, voice coming out meeker than what he was going for, “You really think there’s somethin' good in me?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off of him for a second, “Yeah, I do.”

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what possessed him, but before he could stop himself, he reached out, his hand finding yours. You didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch in fear or scrunched up your nose in disgust.

Instead, your fingers tightened around his, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Why?” he asked again, desperate.

 “Because I just do.”

Something snapped in him then, something he’d been holding back for too long. He moved closer, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your delicate skin. You didn’t pull away again, only leaning into his touch. 

He hesitated, just for a moment. “I’m not— I-I’m not a good guy,” he murmured.

You smiled again, softer this time, the way he hoped you only did for him, “I don’t need you to be.”

He didn’t get it, but he didn’t have time to figure it out.

He leaned in and kissed you. It was clumsy at first — just a touch of lips, a bit hesitant. But then you kissed him back and suddenly he understood those stupid cliché novels his mom used to read when he was younger. He’d never kissed anyone before. 

He was too aware of how inexperienced they both were, of the way his lips barely brushed against yours. He felt stiff and unsure, like he didn’t know if he was doing it right. But it felt right. It wasn’t smooth or perfect — there was hesitancy and uncertainty, but it was real. He felt your hand touch his cheek, your fingers warm and trembling just a little.

His hand slid from your cheek down to your neck, pulling you closer, fingers curling into your hair. He couldn’t get enough. It was messy, frantic, his heart racing like it was trying to break out of his chest, and for once, he didn’t care. He felt your breath hitch against his lips, the warmth of you pressing into him, and all the walls he’d built up, all the reasons he’d given himself to push you away, disappeared. 

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his old shirt like you didn’t want to let go, and that did something to him. Made him feel more alive than he had in a long time. Every time he kissed you, it was like he was drowning in you, like nothing else mattered except for this — your lips, your skin, the way your body pressed against his.

He pulled away, just for a second, eyes wide and breathing heavy, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

He looked at you, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and wet from the kiss, and damn, you looked beautiful. More beautiful than he ever let himself admit before.

But then you smiled, that same heart-shattering smile, and it was like you were pulling him back in, “You don’t have to be afraid,” you whispered.

“I’m not…” he started, but even he didn’t believe it. Because he was. He was terrified as hell of this, of you, of the way you made him feel like he wasn’t a complete mess. But before he could say more, you kissed him again, and this time, he didn’t hold back.

He didn’t think about what he should or shouldn’t be doing, didn’t overanalyze the way his hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left between you. You melted into him, your body warm and soft, like you belonged there and he felt like he was burning up from the inside out.

His hands roamed, exploring, memorizing the curve of your waist, the way your body fit so perfectly against his. Every little sound you made, every breathless gasp, made him feel like he was on fire.

You broke apart again, both of you panting, and he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

“This is crazy,” he muttered, his voice all shaky.

You giggled, the sound making his chest tighten in the best way.

“Maybe. But I don’t care.”

He opened his eyes, staring into yours, and he knew you meant it.

You didn’t care about the Kook vs. Pogue thing, about the stupid rules that had been drilled into them from birth. You just cared about him. He didn’t know how to let himself want something good, something real. But he wanted you. God, did he want you.

From that night on, everything changed. 

You started seeing each other in secret, meeting up when your parents were out of town or sneaking off to some hidden spot by the beach at night where no one would find you. Every time he saw you, it was like a high he couldn’t get enough of. You’d kiss, talk, hold each other like you were the only two people in the world, and he’d forget about all the shit in his life. Forget about the fact that he was supposed to be a screw-up who didn’t deserve someone like you.

You sat side by side at the dock, feet dangling just above the water, the tips of your shoes barely touching the surface. Something was calming about the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the dock, the world feeling small and distant for once, like it was just the two of you.

He leaned back on his hands, staring out at the horizon, not saying much. He’d been quiet today, more so than usual. You nudged him lightly with your shoulder.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorted, shaking his head slightly. “You don’t want ‘em. They’re not worth much.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him again. “C’mon. You’ve been quiet all day. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He hesitated, glancing down at the water, his fingers curling into the wood of the dock. He was biting back whatever was eating at him. He wasn’t the type to open up easily, you knew that, but he wanted to, for you. You wanted to know him, all of him, not just the fake exterior he put up for everyone else to see.

“You ever think about… like, how different your life would be if shit didn’t go so sideways?” he asked, his voice low, almost like he wasn’t sure he wanted to say it out loud.

You frowned, turning to face him, “What do you mean?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

“My mom, she… she used to date these losers. Real pieces of shit, y’know? Guys who’d roll through, thinking they owned the place, treating me like I was some kind of burden just because I was around.”

It wasn’t easy for him to say it, but he was doing it anyway, like the words had been stuck inside him for years.

“She didn’t really care what they did. As long as they paid for her booze, she was cool with whatever. They’d knock me around sometimes, tell me I wasn’t worth shit. But she never did anything about it.” He paused, swallowing hard, his gaze fixed on the water because he couldn’t look at you. “One of ‘em got real bad. Fucker hit me so hard one night, I thought I was gonna pass out. And when I told her… she didn’t care. Told me I was a liar. Said I probably deserved it.”

“Rafe…” you whispered, reaching out to take his hand. He didn’t pull away this time, just let you hold it, his fingers squeezing yours a little too tightly.

“I tried to stick it out,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Tried to stay for as long as I could. But one day, she kicked me out. Told me I was too much trouble, and she didn’t need me around anymore.” He laughed, but it was hollow, bitter. “I guess I wasn’t worth the space I took up.”

You were quiet. He liked that about you, that you didn’t try and get his thoughts out of his head, just let him do his thing, on his own time. There was nothing that could make up for the kind of pain he’d been through. You just squeezed his hand tighter, and he just knew you wished you could take some weight off his shoulders.

“That’s why you were in that house?” You brushed your lips against his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was hard for him to talk about this stuff. Hell, it was hard for him to talk at all when it came to anything real. You just sat there, holding his hand, being there. That was what made you different. Most people didn’t wait for him. They’d get frustrated, give up, move on.

You just... stayed. And that scared him almost as much as it comforted him.

“You didn’t deserve that.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

You shifted closer, your knees touching his now. “It matters to me.”

He didn’t understand how you could look at him like that, like he was worth something.

“You knew my name.”

You nodded, “You delivered fresh seafood to the house once.”

His eyes nearly popped out from their sockets, “I was fourteen.”

“Yeah?”

“And you remembered that?”

Your brows shot up like he’d said the dumbest thing ever. “Obviously.”

His breath caught, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, pulling you into his lap. His hands found your waist, desperate, almost frantic, holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

"You shouldn’t—" he started, but the words died on his lips because you were already kissing him, and it was like everything stopped. The world, his thoughts, all the shit that weighed him down. It was just you, your lips, the way your hands tangled in his hair, and the soft sounds you made against his mouth.

He kissed you harder, more urgently, like he was trying to prove something to himself — that he could have this, that he could deserve this. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His lips moved against yours and he felt like he was falling apart and putting himself back together all at once.

When he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his chest was heaving, and you were looking at him with that same softness that made his stomach twist.

"How—How the hell did I get this lucky?" His voice cracked, just a little. He hadn’t meant to say it, but the words spilled out anyway. 

You smiled, brushing your thumb across his cheek, and he realized then that his face was wet. He hadn’t even noticed the tears slipping down, hadn’t noticed the way he was trembling.

"You deserve this" you whispered. 

That was it.

That was the breaking point. A choked sob escaped him, and before he could stop himself, he crashed his lips against yours again, kissing you so hard it hurt, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t hold back the way he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. For you.

His hands cupped your face, fingers trembling as he kissed you again and again, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he stopped. 

And as his tears mixed with your kiss, he realized that for the first time in his life, he wasn’t running.

He wasn’t pushing you away. He was falling, hard and fast, and he didn’t care. Because for once, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I love you; I don't pt.2 | {SaneGiyuu}

part 1

Theme: Fluff+Angst

Note: uhh cw death 

a little uzusane friendship 

ooh hi its been a while since i posted writing that wasn't a reblog ‼

×××

Previously: 

Giyuu didn't look back, pressing a hand to his mouth to stop a sob that threatened to spill out. He should've expected this. There was no way in hell Sanemi would've stayed in love after years, it was a miracle he'd loved him in the first place. Of course.

×××

Sanemi visited after a couple days. He had sent no warning letter—because he couldn't write coherently yet—and simply arrived at Giyuu's door. 

Giyuu had opened it and then proceeded to lead a couple minutes of a staring contest in which they both blinked several times before regaining his composure and letting him in.

"What're you doing here, Shinazugawa?" Giyuu asked. He shifted his hair to cover his cheeks which burned red with embarrassment. Their last encounter hadn't been quite so successful and he had a hunch that that was exactly why Sanemi was here.

"Are you alright, Tomioka? I'm sorry about last time," Sanemi said, though his gaze was tracing around Giyuu's house. It hit him then that he'd never actually been inside here before. He'd only known the address but never wondered about what Giyuu might look like doing idle things.

"Sorry?" Giyuu frowned. "I should be sorry. I ran away like a child, I'm sorry."

Sanemi shook his head. "That was... reasonable."

"Well, what you said was also." 

"Right. I still shot you down, though," Sanemi said pointedly.

"Didn't I do that to you too?" Giyuu asked. It wasn't Sanemi's fault, it was his own. 

Sanemi's lips quirked in a smile. "Then we can call ourselves even, no?"

"...fine."

A moment of silence.

Giyuu watched as Sanemi took in their surroundings. 

"Do you want some tea?" he offered.

Sanemi nodded slowly. "Sure. Although something cooler would be nice. The weather's insanely hot."

Giyuu nodded back. "Okay." He walked down the hall, turning to the kitchen. "...cold tea?"

Sanemi followed him, rolling his eyes. "Whatever is fine."

"Alright." He supplied the two cups of 'cold tea,' dropping several ice cubes in them.

Sanemi took the cup he was offered, taking a sip. "So...?"

Giyuu tilted his head. "Hm?"

"Are you alright? You never answered my question," Sanemi said, leaning against the wall.

"Oh. I'm... fine." Giyuu considered the question again. "I'll be fine."

Sanemi let out a breath. "If you need anything, we can talk."

"I didn't know you were so considerate."

"...well I can be if I want to." 

Giyuu cocked his head to the side. "You want to be, now?"

Sanemi shrugged. "Isn't it my fault you ran away crying?"

"That's mine."

"Yeah, well, I haven't seen you cry in my whole life." 

Giyuu dipped his head down. "I used to be more... emotional? I don't know. I let down my guard, so it's my fault."

Sanemi put his cup down. "Let your guard down more, then. There's no demons fucking with us anymore, you don't have to be on constant watch."

"It's more like a habit now," Giyuu murmured.

"I know. So try letting go of it."

"I can try."

Sanemi smiled. His smile was gentle and so... unlike him. Giyuu's cheeks were brushed pink and he forced himself to look away.

"Good," Sanemi said. "Anyway, this tea doesn't go good cold. I'll be going now. See you later."

Giyuu nodded. "See you later."

×××

To his surprise—which, according to Sanemi, shouldn't have been a surprise—they became friends. Nothing else, as muh as Giyuu longed for it. But it was nice. Sanemi would come over sometimes, or vise versa, and they would talk. Like they were normal people on a normal day. And he loved seeing into Sanemi's character. It was a change, for the better. Sanemi was much more open with him—as Giyuu was as well—and it was interesting to see how different he was when he could be relaxed. He smiled genuinely a lot more, too. And, despite himself, Giyuu found that he couldn't let go of his love for Sanemi. He loved him; he did. He couldn't stop it. He didn't try to, anymore. Best let it fade out.

It didn't fade, however. Though it wasn't much of a burden. It just made him love spending time with Sanemi more. Receiving letters in broken Japanese asking him if he wanted to come over. It was like falling in love all over again.  He didn't mind. It was a wonderful feeling, in other perspectives. It made him happy.

Time droned on.

Four years had passed since Muzan had died. Four years, already. He didn't know what to think about how much time had passed. He was unwilling to think about it.

It was his birthday tomorrow. He prepared.

×××

He wrote letters to the Uzui's. He wrote some to the Kamado's—and shorter ones to their friends, whom he didn't know well. He wrote one to the Butterfly mansion—Aoi. To Kiriya and the other two Ubuyashiki's. To the Rengoku's, Urokodaki. He had them all stacked up neatly, tied together and placed by a crow. Kanzaburou was far too old to be carrying anything now, so he had put a different crow to the task of delivering the letters.

Then there was one.

He had hesitated before sending Sanemi a letter. He didn't know what he would say. In the end, he simply invited him over. He was sure that none of the others knew of his birthday. In the previous years, he had simply said, vaguely, that his birthday was in February. They brought him gifts in the beginning of February. They had done it this year, as well. When they asked about the timeline, though, he brushed it off. He told them that his birthday was later in February, that they needn't worry. He would tell them. And he would. Only... after.

Sanemi arrived at his house late in the afternoon of his birthday. He didn't know that Giyuu would die today—he couldn't, right? He had with him a package. He placed it on the table in front of Giyuu, sitting down across from him.

"Happy birthday," Sanemi said, leaning onto the table. "Forgot to give you something when the others did."

Giyuu tilted his head, smiling slightly at him. "Thank you." He struggled to untie the cloth and Sanemi reached over to help him.

Inside, there was a photo album. It was pretty, looking homemade and adorned with cut-out photos of Giyuu. He opened it and found pictures slipped inside it. Pictures from the past four years. With everyone. He turned the pages, a bittersweet smile curving his lips as he gazed at the photographs. He paused at one, his eyes tracing the picture. It was of him and Sanemi, eating. At that time, Tengen had taken the picture. Claiming they looked like best friends and wondering what they would've said about this in the past.

He looked up at Sanemi whose eyes were averted, embarrassed.

 "Thank you," he repeated. "I... love this."

Sanemi looked up, offering him a shy smile. "That's good. I was going to keep it blank but... you wouldn't have time to fill it. So I went to Uzui and took all the pictures he'd taken. Had them printed, et cetera." 

Giyuu nodded. "I really appreciate it, Shinazugawa. I... Yeah. Thank you. Thanks."

"You keep saying that. But, uh, you're welcome," Sanemi said, dipping his head down.

Giyuu laughed softly. "I don't know what to say. It's great."

"Then hopefully you'll enjoy it till the end."

"I will."

×××

Night came. Giyuu urged Sanemi to stay, setting up another futon for him. There weren't any other rooms and it was February; too cold to sleep on the porch or elsewhere. So the extra futon was placed in Giyuu's room.

Time came for when they would sleep. Giyuu lay, staring up at the cealing. He hadn't told anyone but lately, he'd been losing a significant amount of weight and blood. And lately, as in, in the last week. He was thankful to not have gotten another spasm of coughing in front of Sanemi, but he knew it was only bound to come. And it did. Blood had come with it, dotting his clothing red.

Sanemi must've been awake for he was at Giyuu's side in an instant. It was dark, but the red was a large contrast to the white of Giyuu's clothing and he must've seen it. "Tomioka? What happened? Are you okay?"

Giyuu answered by doubling over, the metallic taste of blood going sour on his tongue. When he looked up, he realized Sanemi had scooped him up in his arms. 

Sanemi's eyebrows were furrowed in concern and he frowned. He seemed to be thinking. Understanding.

Giyuu coughed against, moving his arm up to cover his mouth so he wouldn't get blood on Sanemi. 

"Tomioka," Sanemi said suddenly, once Giyuu's coughing has stopped.

It was close to midnight. The two had stayed up quite late talking, only getting into the beds around 11 pm.

"Tomioka, when is your birthday?" Sanemi's voice was tight. His eyes were focused solely on Giyuu's. "When is your birthday?" he repeated.

Giyuu bit his lip, wincing. It hurt to breathe. "Today."

"Today as in... as in the eighth? Or today as in... the ninth. Tomorrow?" 

"Eight...th. Eighth," Giyuu mumbled, he closed his eyes.

"...what. Tomioka—why the- Why the fuck did you not tell anyone?! What the hell is— Oh my god- I knew something was—" Sanemi was stumbling over his words, cutting himself off. "No. No, why today? I didn't- Does anyone else—?"

Giyuu shook his head slowly. "No one else knows. I think. I didn't want them too. I invited you over because..." He paused. His breathing was heavy. He was struggling to breathe in. His lungs hurt and strained as if he'd been running for hours. "Shinazugawa.... Shinazugawa, I still like you—I lo-"

He coughed, no longer trying to cover his mouth. Blood dripped from his lips, coating them a deeper red than they'd ever been. 

"Tomioka, I'll take you to Aoi's," Sanemi mumbled, rocking back on his heels. He felt weak. Giyuu was light, however. Lighter than he should be. He started to stand.

"No. No—it won't work, you know it won't work, leave-" Giyuu sucked in a shaky breath. "Leave me here. Shinazugawa. Shinazugawa—I love you, okay? I don't care that you don't like me back but I needed you to know this before I died."

Sanemi shook his head. "No. No, you're not dying now. Maybe Aoi can figure something out. I'll figure something out. You're not dying in my fucking arms, Tomioka. I won't fucking let you." His voice became desperate. 

Giyuu was vaguely skeptical. Why did Sanemi care so much? "Then put me down, Shinazugawa," he said quietly. It was taking all his strength to talk. He couldn't afford losing his last precious moments. 

"No, I won't, I won't," Sanemi insisted, clutching him tighter.

Giyuu's eyes fluttered open. He caught Sanemi's panicking gaze. "I... appreciate you being my friend, Shinazugawa. Thank you for the last years, you truly made them... wonderful." 

Sanemi blinked rapidly. "No, no, I- ...I liked being your friend too," he mumbled. He seemed to have given up. 

Ah. That was it. Giyuu nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips despite the pain stabbing his lungs. "I'm glad... glad you did too. I enjoyed every moment with... with you. This included."

He figured, then, that Sanemi was acting like this in his form of friendship. Sanemi cared for him—though perhaps not romantically anymore. But he cared. He had liked being his friend. That was good. Giyuu was glad.

"Thank you," Giyuu repeated. 

Sanemi was quiet, leaning his forehead down against the pale palor of Giyuu's. "You should've told me it was today," he whispered. 

"I couldn't," Giyuu mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Sanemi said. "I-"

He hesitated. And that was all it took.

In the small moment he paused, Giyuu's breath shortened. He was barely breathing. And then he was not. 

There was a moment in which Sanemi vaguely registered this. He didn't understand it for a moment. Only that the ragged breathing of the man in his arms had stopped filling the silent room. Then it hit him and he struggled to keep himself up, his arms tightening around Giyuu's still-warm body. The warmth would fade soon as Giyuu's blood stopped pumping through his body.

A silent sob ripped through Sanemi's throat and he realized he was crying. His shoulders shook and he bent his head down, tucking his chin against his chest. He hadn't gotten to say it. 

He didn't know how long he sat like that, almost motionless, clutching onto Giyuu's body. But then there was a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up.

Tengen was there, frowning, kneeling by his side. "I'm here, Shinazugawa," he murmured. 

Sanemi must've looked like a mess. Tears streaking down his cheeks, blood staining his clothing. Tengen said nothing of it, only sitting next to him and holding his hand. They sat together for what could've been minutes or hours. Then Tengen stood silently, looking around.

"We have to bury him," he said quietly. His voice cut through the silence of the room. He sounded tired. 

Sanemi nodded slowly. He was hesitant to move away.

"I'll... go and get some of the others. Put him on his bed when you're ready, okay?" Tengen said, gazing at him one last time before leaving.

Sanemi's eyes went back to Giyuu's face. It was slack, but a ghost of a smile still lay upon his lips. He paused then slowly bent down. Sanemi's lips pressed gently against Giyuu's cold, plush, blood-stained ones. He moved, dropping Giyuu gently onto the futon. Then he stood, willing his legs to work as he moved to the door Tengen had left from, making his way out of the room and away from the man whom he had thought he would never love again.

×××

« Word count: 2265 »

right so this took weeks to actually get ideas on how to write it, so i delete my progress and try again and finish it in one afternoon? 

i was struggling with how to word the last paragraph btw!! its supposed to imply that he fell back in love with Giyuu but the last sentence was icky 😃

[mozzeralla-stix]

Heyyyyy! So can I request a Carl x fem reader where she’s insecure and Carl sees her body for the first time after her trying to hide it for ages. It can be smut or fluff or both🫶🏻

Every Piece of You

Carl Grimes x Insecure fem! reader

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, negative self talk, crying, body issues, L bombs, f! receiving oral

Carl finally sees reader for the first time and can’t help but show his adoration…

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Somehow, despite the beauty of having a clean and safe house to live in with running water and electricity, I still find my brain focusing so deeply on all the wrongs in my life. More specifically, the wrongs that are a part of me. There are a lot of terrible things I’ve had to do to survive on the road. My hands aren’t clean of blood, but time and improvement can change that. What can’t change- however- is my body. I pull the sweat filled shirt off of my body reluctantly, knowing I have to shower eventually.

As the garment drops to the floor I can’t help but stare at myself in disgust once again. Each curve and dip in my body only reminds me of how unattractive my frame is. It’s a wonder how I managed to get Carl to love me. Probably because he has never seen my body, I’m sure the day he finally sees me without clothes will be the day I’m single once again. I wrap my arms around myself while tears well up on my eyes. I can barely see my reflection with the liquid overwhelming my waterline, finally beginning to trail down my cheeks as I let out weak sobs. I can’t help but grieve the end of Carl and I’s relationship- as its inevitable end will one day come with the reveal of my body.

I hear a soft knock on the door followed by, “Y/n? Hun? Are you okay in there? I’m coming in.”

Before I can scramble to cover myself up or run to the door, I see Carl standing in the doorway. I feel fear rush through me- not ready whatsoever for this moment. Carl’s eyes light up, and his mouth suddenly falls slightly agape. I feel tears threaten to fall again once the shock leaves my body. “Carl! I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to see this. I know it’s awful. Please just don’t-“

“Oh my god Y/n, you’re beautiful.”

I am stopped in my tracks, my brows furrowing in utter confusion and disagreement. I shake my head side to side, refusing to accept such an impossible notion. “You don’t have to pretend, Carl. I know I’m not. Please just don’t leave over this. You don’t even have to see me like this ever again.”

Before I can continue, Carl walks over and gently pulls me into his warm embrace, placing my head gently in the crook of his neck. Sobs that I was holding back barreled their way through my barricades, forcing salty tears out of my eyes and onto Carl’s flannel. The comfort of his very presence: his smell, the tickle of his long brown locks on my cheek and neck, his steady heartbeat and slow breathing- it all became so overwhelming.

“Sweetheart, I think you’re so beautiful. Best thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. As upset as I am that it happened this way- I’m so happy I’ve finally gotten to see the love of my life in such an intimate way. Nothing could change my love for you.” Carl follows with a soft kiss to my lips before pulling away to look into my eyes- his soft blue ones giving me a loving look.

“Carl, I love you too. So much. I’m sorry.” I barely let out before pulling him back into a hug, gripping his flannel harder than ever as the tears slowly stop.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. You’re so amazing. So pretty.”

Carl starts to kiss me gently, moving his hands down to grab at my hips. I feel myself tense up, only to be comforted by Carl placing one hand on the top of my head, lightly stroking my hair. Our kiss deep new as both Carl and I slightly tilt our heads to the side, hoping to feel even more of a connection between our two selves. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to me. In response, Carl tugs lightly at my hip and pulls my body flush against is as I whimper from the contact.

Carl slowly begins to guide me back towards the counter, pinning my hips to the surface once my back hits the edge. I let out a gasp and Carl takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth- forcing an unexpected moan out of me. I feel his tongue lap against mine, creating amazing friction between our two mouths. I tug at his hair, causing him to groan and lightly roll his hips up towards mine. The sudden contact makes me whimper, loving the satisfying rhythm developing between us. Carl trails his lips down to my face, stopping at the junction of my jaw and neck.

He latches onto the small patch of skin and begins to gently suck, leaving a dark mark on my neck. I moan and can’t help but buck my hips forward at the sudden rush of pleasure. He lets out a low groan and is only fueled further by my little reactions. I continue to tug on his hair and roll my hips with his, reveling in the feeling of our bodies being so close and intertwined. Carl trails down my neck even further- leaving dark, bruising love bites that are sure to show in the morning. He reaches my collarbone and bites down on the sensitive mound lining my neck.

“Ahh~ Ca- Carl! Please.”

Carl gives the bone one final nibble before raising his head and moving close to my ear, carefully whispering “Don’t worry, pretty girl. You’ll get what you want soon. patience..”

I nod my head feverishly and feel his hands begin to tighten around my hips, lifting me up so that I am sitting on top of the bathroom counter. A deep blush creeps up my neck and spreads itself across my cheeks, displaying my embarrassment and needy nature all to Carl. He leans down and starts to make out with me- this time with much more heat and desperation. I match his movements, the newly present wetness at my core pooling into my panties.

With his hands gripping my hips even tighter than before, he begins to roll his hard on up into me while guiding my hips towards his, creating strong friction between us two. I throw my head back in a daze of submission and pleasure, desperately following his lead. Each time his dick rubs against me through the layers of clothing I feel an electric shock run up my spine, causing loud moans to slip from my mouth uncontrollably. Carl let’s out a few of his own while he places his hand over my mouth gently, attempting to muffle my loud displays of enjoyment.

“Gotta be quiet for me, ‘kay my love? Can you do- mmph~ do that for me?”

I quickly nod and continue to do my best to suppress my noises, still following his hips with my own bucking movements. I whine as he slows his grinding, eyeing me up and down.

Carl slowly moves one hand to my back, looking into my eyes for approval for a moment before undoing my bra. I allow it to slip down my arms, revealing my bare chest to Carl. His eyes dilate with amazement, just before he looks up at me with a hungry expression. I have no choice but to stare back, frozen with arousal and embarrassment. I move my hands to the hem of his shirt, begging him to take it off as well. Carl quickly gets the message with a small chuckle and pulls the shirt over his head, tossing it into the pile of clothes forming on the bathroom floor. I stare in awe, never having seen his bare torso much. My eyes trail from his distinct collarbones to his chest, continuing my gaze all the way down to his toned abdomen and the patch of hair that leads beneath his jeans. I flush a dark red and dart my eyes to his forearms, the view of his muscles ever so slightly popping out due to his leaning position certainly not helping the color on my face. Carl’s hand then comes up to my chin- gently lifting it so that I’m looking him in the eyes.

“It’s okay to look sweetheart, it’s all yours.”

I practically melt at the comment before Carl places a chaste kiss on my lips. He then gently lowers himself down to his knees, placing his strong hands onto the top of my covered thighs.

He slides his hand up to the button of my jeans while his other remains on my thigh, slowly rubbing up and down. He makes quick work of the button, removing my jeans to reveal my panties. He spots the wet spot soaking through the thin fabric, and looks me in the eyes while he licks a strip from the area to the top of my cloth covered pussy. I let out a moan and tangle my hands in his hair, rolling my lips delicately against his mouth. He removes his mouth from my core to place soft kisses all around the inside of my thighs, biting down on the last placement to leave a dark hickey. The pleasure overwhelms me, until he lets go of the plush area and presses his thumb against the love bite, bringing a shiver up my spine at the small mix of pleasure and pain.

“Please! I cant wait any longer Carl..” I say as I tug at his hair again, barely able to contain myself. Carl sighs and gives in, gripping the hem of my panties and pulling them down to reveal my soaking wet core. He looks up at me and gives me a loving smile.

“God, you’re just so unbelievably beautiful. Every part of you.” He let’s out breathlessly.

I try to stutter out a thank you, but am interrupted by Carls tongue feverishly lapping at my clit, fueled by desire and the need to prove just how majestic he found my body to be. I begin to feel as though I am weightless, squeezing my eyes shut in pure bliss and Carl descends to my throbbing entrance. He licks up all of the juices seeping out of me, moaning as he does so. This sends waves of extra pleasure through me as the vibrations travel from my pussy to my abdomen. He then latches himself on my clit, sucking harshly on the enlarged bud. My back arches aggressively, letting out an incredibly lewd moan as I tug on his hair.

Carl moves away from my sensitive pussy, pulling himself up with a smirk. He moves his lips towards mine and kisses me, forcing me to taste myself on my tongue. He disconnects the intimate kiss and quickly removes his pants and boxers, revealing his hard and aching cock. Glistening pre-cum drips from the slightly red tip as my eyes widen, realizing that that is supposed to fit inside of me. I turn red and Carl catches on, pulling me into his tight embrace. His skin feels warm, sending comfort into my once tense muscles. He gently rubs my back before pulling away, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“I promise it’ll fit darlin’, I would never hurt you. You’ll take it all so well for me, I know you will.”

I nod while he pumps himself a few times, lining his cock up to my dripping entrance.

“I love you, Carl.”

“I love you too, Y/n. So much.”

With that Carl gently pushed into my wet folds, causing me to gasp and throw my arms around his shoulders- pulling his torso flush to mine. I stuff my head into his neck and whimper, feeling a light sting. Carl wraps one arm around my back to grip the other side of my hips, while his other hand sneaks down to my clit and rubs the sensitive mound in a circular motion. The wavering pleasure helps me relax- allowing me to let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, while Carl continues to push himself into me so gently.

“F-fuck. Doing so well f’me darlin’. God~”

I can tell he is struggling to keep it together while his cock dips further into me, eventually bottoming out with a groan. I feel my chest fill with warmth and love, the energy between us filling the small room with rose colored feelings. I take a deep breath and sigh, adjusting to the feeling of being apart of him. My pussy instinctively squeezes my walls around him, causing Carl to whimper and buck his hips back into me. However, he doesn’t stop once he initially fucks himself into me- making slow yet steady thrusts into me. He looks down at our connection, watching as his hard member disappears with every thrust inside of me.

I gently scratch at his back and moan into his neck, practically squirming in his touch. The pleasure overwhelms me, along with the intense feelings shared between us in this intimate moment. Unexpectedly, I don’t feel any insecurity about being bare in front of Carl. The way he cares so deeply and ensured I’m not hurt, the way he longingly looks at my body while fucking into me, the way he rolls his hips ever so delicately to ensure this feels amazing for the both of us. Carl’s actions are filled with love and adoration. He loves me for me, every single piece.

My brain starts to go foggy with pleasure, as I let out soft moans and whimpers in an attempt to keep myself quiet. I allow Carl’s name to occasionally roll of my tongue, longing the way he groans in response to my desperate calls for him. I feel myself nearing the edge, tears starting to well up in the corner of my eyes- both due to the love I feel and the way that Carl perfectly hits my g-spot with every thrust.

My moans get louder and I can barely mumble a “Carl- Ahh mph~ I’m close!” against Carl’s shoulder. He gently lifts my head up with his hand and makes me look him in the eyes- the tears only getting more intense and rapid with our irises creating an unbreakable link between Carl and I. He smashes his lips against mine, moaning into my mouth while he passionately slips his tongue into my mouth.

The coil in my stomach gets impossibly tighter, a tense yet comfortable sensation growing in my abdomen. I begin to claw at his bare back- leaving dark red marks trailing all down him. Carl moans and rolls his hips once more, teetering me over the edge.

Everything falls apart within me and Carl pulls away from the kiss, whispering “Let it go, love. It’s okay.”

I yelp out a lewd moan at his word choice and ride out my orgasm, the rhythmic clenching and unclenching pushing Carl over the edge as well. I feel his cock tense up inside of me right before spilling his warm cum deep inside of me, enhancing the last bits of my orgasm.

Carl rests his forehead against mine while breathing very heavily, closing his eyes before pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

“I love you Y/n, every single piece of you.”

“I love you too, Carl. Always and forever.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚

oh my god i’m sorry this took so long. lots going on rn. hope you enjoy!! <3

[cottonlemonade]

A Simpler Life [part 4]

word count: 2180 || avg. reading time: 9 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: mdni, nsfw, spoilers

synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

A couple of months ago when your best friend had come up to you as you were browsing country properties online and asked what you were hoping to gain from moving to a rural place that was barely big enough to be called a town, you had said “a simpler life”. For years your head was filled with schedules and deadlines and meetings and cluttered by random facts about your coworkers so you could keep up with the polite work chitchat. Happiness was secondary, at best. But now as one of Kita’s hands moved from your cheek to your waist and gently guided you until your back was up against a fence post you thought happiness - true happiness - had finally found you.

He had no reason to be such a great kisser. With quiet passion he pressed himself against you, squeezing your chubby hips in tandem with your panting. Breathing became irrelevant. You just needed him close.

He gasped against your lips when you reached up to tug at his hair, damp from sweat in the midsummer heat.

Kita broke the kiss and waited for you to look at him. His warm brass eyes shone like honey in the sunlight. You waited for him to say something, trying to control your shallow breathing as much as possible but your thoughts were fuzzy because his thumb gently caressed your cheek. He leaned in to touch his lips against your forehead and you were already preparing to beg him to kiss you again when he did. Slower this time, the urgency from before lost in his embrace.

“Kita-san…”, you mumbled when you felt the tip of his tongue brush over your bottom lip.

“Shinsuke.”, he corrected, before deepening the kiss.

As much as Kita would have loved to say he didn’t care if anyone saw because he was too engrossed in your taste, your scent and the feeling of your soft body against him, he figured - at least for now - he shouldn’t fall apart from your touch right next to the tomatoes for all the world (or at least a random passerby on this barely traveled road) to see.

When he had managed to turn the kiss into something sweet rather than urgent he wanted to congratulate himself, because for a while there a familiar stir in his lower abdomen suggested he’d have a problem very soon. But now with your lips moving so unhurriedly and the absurdly amazing feeling of swiping his tongue into your mouth he wasn’t doing any better. Arguably much worse, actually.

Without meaning to, he brushed up the hem of your shirt and almost innocently placed his hand on your skin. Calloused hands on your impossibly soft hips along with the growing need to take off every single last bit of clothing that dared to cover your body - Kita was quite sure he must have lost his mind if his first instinct now was to have you right here in the veggie patch.

What were you doing to him that he - “Ah…”, Kita let out a shaky moan when your hand, previously driving him mad at the back of his neck, now ran down his chest and began to rub the quickly hardening outline in his pants. “Stop…”, he pleaded. He really did not want you to stop. “Not here.”

And he took your hand to lead you over to your house.

Once inside you made quick work of his shirt, dropping it on the floor on your way to the bedroom. He kissed you continuously, his hands in your hair and on your hips - squeezing, caressing, grabbing. When he laid you down on your bed he knew he’d never seen anything as gorgeous as you. The way you looked up at him with big expectant eyes, the slight part of your lips, the sinful hills of your generous curves begging to be touched. Your long flowy skirt dipped between your plush thighs, making him painfully aware that your legs were spread, waiting for him.

He stood in front of the bed, staring at you, frozen in the moment until you sat up and began undoing the button and zipper of his pants.

“Lay down.”, you said quietly, in a tone you’d used before when you offered him a seat at your table. Swallowing hard he lowered himself onto the bed next to you. You rolled to the side, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear and leaned down to kiss him again. Your fingers traced over his chest, down his abdomen and slipped into his jeans. Kita whimpered when your hand closed around the stiff imprint in his boxers. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as you continued to stroke his cock through the fabric, gasping against your skin. He tried to gather enough sense to kiss or touch you, but all in his head was your hand squeezing and teasing, your shallow breaths next to his ear and your divine scent in his nose. It hardly took any time at all until he came.

“Oh.”, you said surprised when with a tremble and a splutter of your name, you felt him twitch in your hand and wetness pooled against your palm.

“I’m sorry.”, he panted.

“That’s okay.” You couldn’t help but smile at the dazed glaze over his eyes as he looked at you.

“Would ya mind if I used the bathroom for a second to …”, he vaguely gestured to his pants and you pressed your lips together not to laugh and so just nodded.

Staggering a little once he was on his feet, he made his way out of the bedroom.

When you heard the bathroom door open and close you muffled your giggle in the pillow. How adorable could one person be?

A realization tiptoed into your mind. He was probably still a virgin, you thought. The grandmothers in town had emphasized many a time how happy they were to finally see Kita - Shinsuke - with someone. Before, you figured, he might have just kept his private life, well, private. But now…

It wasn’t like you yourself were an expert in this area. But the life in the city and a couple of random dates as well as a tumultuous 3 year relationship did give you some authority.

A knock on your bedroom door brought you back to the present.

“You don’t have to knock, Ki- Shinsuke-san.”, you chuckled and the door opened.

You were glad he hadn’t picked up his shirt off the floor.

“Everything alright?”, you asked and he nodded quickly, standing a little awkwardly in the doorway.

“Should… I make us some dinner?”, you offered.

His eyes widened slightly. “No, I… what about ya?”

“It’s fine!”, you assured him earnestly, “We don’t have to-“

“But I want to.”, he said simply and his cheeks dusted pink, “Please lemme take care of ya. I’ll … I’ll do my best, I promise.”

You pressed your thighs together at his honest declaration and he laid back down when you scooted over a little.

And there he was again with his incredible kisses.

“Just tell me what ya need me to do.”

Your mouth went dry.

“Alright… first”, you said, trying to covertly clear your throat, taking his hand and bringing it from your hips up to your breasts, “touch me here.”

You laid your hand over his and squeezed a few times. He understood and continued on his own.

“Kiss me.“

He leaned in, only softly brushing his lips against yours at first but soon, his tongue pushed into your mouth again.

You moaned when his fingers grazed your hard nipple, poking against the fabric of your top.

“Lift my shirt.“, you instructed next and you saw his adams apple bop up and down as he swallowed, but he did as you asked. Bit by bit, his hand slid under the hem and raised it above your bra.

“You like it?“, you asked, teasing because you thought it was so cute how he started at the lacy trim. He nodded. “Take it off. It unhooks in the back.“

Surprisingly enough, he got it on his first try and you swiftly slipped out of the bra straps and tossed it in a corner, keeping your top on but leaving yourself exposed.

“Touch them again and… you can kiss them if you like.“

Kita took one of your breasts in his hand, the flesh spilling between his fingers as he squeezed. He lowered his head to the little valley between them and kissed you, once, twice, before bringing his lips all the way to the stiff little pearl on top, automatically taking it into his mouth and sucking it. The moan that followed was a great indication that he was doing well. He started to wonder why people ever did anything else but pleasure their partner. This was all he wanted to do for the foreseeable future, if you’d only let him. Your fingers in his hair and voice in his ear, you instructed him to move his hand lower.

Reluctantly, he let go off your breast and moved down to your tummy, squeezing a handful of your softness there as well before you told him to go lower once again. As he was still engrossed in kissing and sucking your breasts, he felt your hand on his again, guiding him into the waistband of your skirt and then your panties.

“How does it feel?“, you asked, quietly, and he looked at you with adoring eyes.

“You‘re wet.“, he observed and noticed how you bit your lips as you nodded.

“For you.“

Maneuvering your hand a little further so you had more control over his much longer fingers you pushed his index against the squishy folds he felt.

“Push it slowly into me.“

He did and was rewarded with another of your moans. You grabbed his wrist and moved it back and forth so that his finger went in and out of your warmth.

“Add a second one.“, you whispered and his middle finger joined the penetration.

“Just like that, Shinsuke…“

He loved hearing his name from you.

“Curl them up a little - yes… like that. Nng, now use your thumb to rub my clit. - Just there, yes. That‘s it - ah, don‘t stop.“

Completely mesmerized, Kita watched your face as you fought to keep your eyes open and focused on him. He was quite glad that this was a lot less difficult than he initially thought it would be.

You moaned his name again. “Kiss me, please.“ Your voice was small but much higher now. He didn‘t need to be asked twice. Keeping his fingers moving rhythmically in and out of your heavenly pussy he kissed his way up from your breasts over your neck before urgently pressing his lips to yours.

He felt you clench around his fingers, hips bucking into his touch and high pitched whines drowned in your kiss. Eventually, you let go of his hand but he kept his fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out because he couldn‘t get enough of the feeling. He really wanted to do that again. But judging by your panting he should probably give you a minute.

Your kisses softened until he only rested his forehead against yours. His hand stopped moving but wasn‘t going anywhere.

You cupped his cheek and drew him in for one more chaste peck before you asked, “Are you gonna stay for dinner?“

Kita blinked and nodded. “If that‘s alright.“

You snorted and he joined into your laughter.

______________________

Six months later

“Whaddaya think?“ You stepped away from the kitchen table that was heavily laden with all kinds of different dishes from pickled vegetables to stews, crispy chicken and steamed fish and, of course, Shinsuke‘s favorite tofu burgers. He straightened from the floor, having just finished fixing a loose floorboard.

“It looks incredible, darlin‘.“ He pulled you into his arms and kissed your temple. The snow flurry outside promised a white Christmas.

“Ya look incredible, too.“, he muttered into your hair.

You chuckled, very familiar with what came next. Offering no resistance whatsoever you let him gently push you towards his couch and a moment later found yourself trapped underneath him. He grinned as he leaned down to run the tip of tongue along your neck, his fingers nimbly untying the string of your cooking apron.

“Shin… they‘re gonna be here any minute.“

“No no, they‘re always late.“, he murmured against your skin, now kissing down to your collarbone and undoing the top buttons of your blouse, “We still have time.“

With a giggle you threw your arms around his neck, then jumped at a screech.

“Kita-san!!“

In the doorway stood the twins Shinsuke had told you so much about. The blonde held up a hand to shield the eyes of the gray-haired one, who peaked past his brother‘s fingers to the dining table.

Shinsuke sighed and glared at Roku who all too happily sat next to the guests on the porch, merrily wagging his tail and looking between them and his owner, “Some guard dog ya are.“

art: coloring done by @keiko-chan

[bonus headcanons]

[crappymixtape]

tangled • part two

PART I • PART III • PART IV • PART V • PART VI ❝ all you’ve known your entire life is in the inside of your tower – the brick walls covered in your murals skating around you in a semi-perfect circle, the view from the very top one that would take anyone’s breath away, but how could it be beautiful when you could never leave? that is, until an unexpected someone happens upon your hidden tower and offers you a chance to escape | (  2.7k, tangled AU • fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

I N T O T H E W I L D B L U E 🎶 strawberries for two, tinyumbrellas

I said, cowboy take me away, fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue. Set me free, oh, I pray, closer to heaven above and closer to you, closer to you.

Flynn’s head hurt, my gods it hurt, like it’d been cleaved in two and a groan rumbled in his chest, his brow furrowed tightly as he slowly opened his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was climbing up that bloody tower hoping to find respite, but instead found whoever the hell had clobbered him over the head with something awfully heavy and, well, awful.

Blinking the room into view, everything swam into focus. An odd little room full of the necessities: a stove, a wardrobe, a table and chairs, plates and cups and silverware and the like, but there were other items too. Paint and brushes and discarded canvas, a basket full of sewing things and a tiny pottery wheel with a half finished pitcher sitting atop it and…

“Is this…hair?”

Eyes growing wider by the second, Flynn saw long locks looped over the rafters above and diving down to the floor. Over the table and around an ottoman and slipping up the leg of the chair he sat in and holding him tightly, very tightly, to the hard wood at his back.

“Is this hair??” he asked again to no one until a voice sounded from the shadows just ahead of him.

“Struggling is pointless! I know why you’re here, and I’m not afraid of you.”

Flynn shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs and properly process the situation he found himself in. Held captive. In a chair. Bound to it with hair and, oh, bloody hell.

“I’m sorry–what?” he half scoffed, confusion melting into frustration.

Something shifted in the shadows and he sat back, waiting, anticipating, heart hammering in his chest until you stepped out into the sliver of sunlight falling in from the window above.

“Who are you and how did you find me?” you worked hard to keep your voice level, frying pan still held in your hands, wanting to make damn sure this man knew who he was dealing with.

But this man. Oh, this man was in trouble now.

Mouth dropped open in a little ‘o’ his brows softened and the tiniest breath pushed from his lungs. Yes, it was an absolutely impossible amount of hair, but gods. You were unlike anyone he’d ever seen. In fact looking at you felt like getting hit over the head for a third time.

The soft slope of your cupid’s bow and the way it firmed around the tiny scowl on your lips, the long sweep of your lashes across your cheeks, hell, even the way you handled that frying pan.

“Who are you and how did you find me?” you demanded again and it shook him from his stupor as he flicked on the charm. That would certainly get him out of this.

“Forgive me,” he said, head dipping in a small nod, “I know not who you are or how I came to find you, but might I just say…hi. How are you? Name’s Flynn Rider.”

Your scowl shifted, confused, then irritated. What was he doing? Maybe you hit him a little too hard. Pointing the pan back at him you took a step forward and prodded him in the chest. Unimpressed.

“Okay, Flynn Rider, if that’s even your name,” you fixed him with a look, one you hoped conveyed you weren’t going to be tolerating any bullshit. “Who else knows my location?”

A huff of protest fell from his lips, brows pinching together and exasperated as he shifted in his chair. How did that not work? That always worked, especially with the ladies. Flynn rolled his eyes and dropped the act, struggling against his restraints. “Alright, princess–”

“Rapunzel.”

“Sure, whatever, I was running through the forest and came across your tower and–” Flynn stopped. Where was the tiara? That was his ticket out here if he didn’t have that…”Oh. Oh, gods. Where’s my satchel? Where’s my satchel??”

A most pleased look came over you and you crossed your arms over your chest, swinging the pan back and forth a little too casually and dropping it to the floor with a loud CLANG! Cheeks flushed you quickly bent down to grab it and pointed it back at him.

“It’s hidden. Where you’ll never find it,” you insisted.

“What?” Flynn grumbled under his breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, pulling a steadying breath into his lungs. Soft. Kind. Maybe you’d let him go. “Please? C’mon, princess.”

“No. I’m not telling you where it is until you tell me what you want with my hair! Cut it? Sell it? What d’you want!”

That could be the only reason he was here, for your hair. It was why you were in this tower, protected and safely tucked away from all of the ruffians who wanted to steal your hair. Your precious, magic, hair. The hair your Mother swore to never let anyone lay a finger on and made you promise to never let anyone else touch.

“Your hair? Gods, no! What’s wrong with you? The only thing I want with your hair is to get out of it. Literally.”

He didn’t want your hair? Surely that was a lie. Mother told you it was all anyone ever wanted from you. It was all they’d ever want from you and nothing else and the only person you could trust was Mother.

Right?

You narrowed your eyes at him and stepped up to him, “You’re telling the truth?”

“Yes!”

The look on his face was earnest enough and he certainly seemed desperate to get his satchel back. The one with the sparkly gold tiara in it. The one that most definitely meant he was a thief, but you needed someone to take you to see the lights and well, you didn’t have much choice. This was it. Your one chance.

“Alright, Flynn Rider. I have a deal for you,” you said, taking a step back pulling aside the long drape of fabric on the far wall to reveal a beautifully painted mural of the night sky full of brightly shining dots. “Do you know what these are?”

It was beautiful. A masterpiece. Artfully crafted and coming to life through an incredible use of color and movement and brushstrokes of–

“Of course I know what those are,” Flynn huffed, shaking the look of astonishment from his features, “Those are the lanterns they release once a year for the lost princess.”

Lost princess?

You tried to keep your expression neutral, ignoring the images the tiara had pulled forth in your mind, and straightened up tall, walking back to Flynn’s chair.

“Yes. The lost princess, everyone knows,” you didn’t, but he didn’t need to know. “You will act as my guide, take me to these lanterns and then return me home safely. Only then will you get your precious satchel back.”

Flynn tipped his head back and barked a laugh. “Sorry, princess. No can do,” he said through a few last little chuckles, “The kingdom and I are sort of…at odds with one another, so that won’t be happening.”

A flicker of anger simmered in your chest, being treated again like you didn’t know the half of it. Like you were an idiot. Like no matter what you did it was never going to be good enough.

Folding your arms over your chest you fixed him with a look, lips twisted around a frown, “Listen. Something brought you here, Flynn Rider. Call it what you will, fate, destiny, whatever you might believe in, but we are at an impasse and I think we can help each other.”

The smug look on his face melted the longer he looked at you and it shook the firm stance you’d taken. Those striking hazel eyes, the strong line of his jaw, the way his gaze held yours. You sucked in a breath, steady.

“And–and I’ve made the decision to trust you–”

“A horrible decision–”

“But trust me when I tell you this…” You leaned down to press your hands to the tops of the chair arms and tried your best at intimidation, “You can tear this tower apart, but without my help you will never find your precious satchel.”

Flynn narrowed his eyes for a beat, his breath warming over your cheek with how close you’d pushed into him and your pulse fluttered in your neck. A warning, curiosity, something a little more until he broke.

“Okay, princess–”

“Rapunzel,” you corrected. Again.

“Sure–lemme get this straight. I take you to see the lights and you give me my satchel back?”

“That’s the deal.”

He held your gaze a moment longer, waiting, anticipating you breaking under the long, drawn out silence that was stretching thinner and thinner through the air, but he didn’t know who he was dealing with.

“Gods, fine!” he cracked, chin dipping to his chest in defeat as he grumbled a string of curses under his breath. “I’ll take you to see the stupid lanterns, but if I don’t get my satchel back–”

“You will!”

“I better.”

“You will,” you said again and his features softened a touch at the earnest sound of your voice.

He guessed he trusted you too. Somehow.

I wanna walk and not run, I wanna skip and not fall, I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall.

“You comin’, princess?”

Looking down out the window to the ground made you dizzy. Made you second-guess everything. Made you scared. It was so far down. Much further than it had ever looked before, further than every other time you’d tossed your hair down to Mother.

“Of course I’m coming!” you shouted back, your frustration fizzling out with the distance to the grass below.

Swallowing down the nerves that had bumped up into your throat you tossed your hair over the hook like you always did and held tight, feet perched at the edge of the windowsill.

It’s fine. You’re fine. You can do this. You can do this.

You pulled air into your lungs, deeply, closed your eyes and pictured the way the ground would feel under you. The way you could dip your fingers in the river. The wind in your hair and the sun on your skin and when you leapt from the tower you left your stomach somewhere with your paints and pottery wheel and sewing.

A squeal pitched high in your ear and it took you a moment to realize it was coming from you and when your feet finally hit the meadow floor, the force of it tripped you forward into something solid.

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–” Flynn dashed forward to meet you, catching you before you hit hard and his heart stuttered at the way you felt pressed close to him.

Clinging onto two fistfuls of leather vest and tunic like your life depended on it, you suddenly realized – you’d done it. You made it. Out of the tower, out from under Mother’s ever-watchful gaze, out into the world.

Free.

Heart hammering in your chest, you were sure it would crack your ribs as the world swam back in around you. The birds in the trees, the burble of the river, the softness of the breeze against your cheek and the warmth of Flynn’s hands wide at your waist–

“Wait–what–I’m fine, I’m fine,” you insisted pushing against him, pushing away from him, “–I’m fine.”

“Oh–o–okay. Sure, sorry,” Flynn stuttered, confused at your sudden protest to his helping you and held his hands up in defense.

Your eyes watered at the bright rays of sunlight falling on you, your arm moving to shield the view with the crook of your elbow, and when you finally acclimated a rush of colors struck you.

Brilliant, green grass beneath your feet, flowers yellow and orange and pink swaying and waving hello, slips of blue water flowing swiftly between the riverbanks and glittering in the afternoon sun. The corner of your mouth tugged up into a small smile, wiggling your toes against the cool dirt, the feel of it lifting your smile bigger and bigger until an astonished laugh fell from your lips.

“I did it…” you marveled, clasping your hands over your mouth. “I did it!” you shouted again, flinging your arms out and spinning, hair fanning out behind you in waves. Spinning and spinning and spinning.

And for the first time in a long time, Flynn felt something bloom deep in his chest. A feeling he thought wasn’t possible anymore. A feeling that split a crack in the wall he’d worked so hard to build, the one that was supposed to keep things out. Things like you. Pure, joyful, beautiful things like you.

“Alright, alright. There’s plenty of time to frolic, princess–”

“Rapunzel,” you corrected for the millionth time.

“We got a long way to go, c’mon,” Flynn waved an arm toward a small gap in the cliff, the one Mother always snuck through, and dread pooled at the pit of your stomach.

A long way to go. As in, out there. As in, away from your tower, your home, everything you owned with only a frying pan in your hand and panic pinched in your chest.

As he reached the way out, Flynn turned back to make sure you were still following, but instead saw you standing frozen just a few yards away. His brows knitted together. “You coming?”

“I’m a horrible daughter, I have to go back,” came out just above a whisper and Flynn took a few steps toward you.

“What?”

“I can’t go.”

“Sure you can, just use your feet,” Flynn teased a little, but tears were welling up against your lashes and that feeling hit him again, but he steeled against it. He didn’t owe you anything and the only thing holding him back from getting out of this place was the fact you still had his satchel – the one you promised you’d give him once he took you to the lanterns.

Your tears fell freely now and Flynn’s hand twitched at his side, wanting to sweep them softly from your cheeks, his feet betraying him and pushing him a few steps closer. He pulled in a breath, No, Rider. Not now.

“You know,” he started, tutting at you gently, “I can’t help but notice you seem a little at war with yourself here. Protective mother, roguish stranger taking you from your tower, but trust me. You’re way over thinking this. Will this disappoint your mother? Yes! Will you break her heart? Definitely.”

“What?” you gasped, break her heart??

“Yes, a horrible thing to do. Just horrible,” he tutted at you, folded his arms over his chest and let out a sigh of resignation. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m letting you out of the deal. Alright? Let’s get you home. I get my stachel back and you get to please Mother dearest.”

“Wait–no, no no,” you shook your head, “That wasn’t the deal. How do you know she’ll be disappointed??”

The words were tumbling from your mouth, stuttering and fighting against yourself as you buried your head in your hands. Quieted your mind and tried to calm down. And then it hit you.

“No! I’m seeing those lanterns!” you looked right up at Flynn and gave him the most decided look you’d ever mustered and he let out the loudest groan.

“Oh, c’mon!” flinging his hands up in defeat he gave you the most pathetic, pleading look, “What’s it gonna take to get my satchel back??”

“The lanterns, Flynn!!” you walked right up to him and poked a finger into his chest, hard.

Expression faded from his face, brows and mouth firm lines, unimpressed, stuck and all but conquered.

“I’m not doing this for you. You know that right?” he said, aiming to at least knock you down a peg, but the triumphant look you gave him was enough to tell him he had no idea what he was dealing with.

“I know. Now scoot,” you shoved at his arm, pushed him toward the hanging vines over the secret path out and he begrudgingly picked up his pace again.

“Don’t ever tell me to scoot again.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[ayeyolooo]

surprise

you smiled at your fresh simple short set of nails. it was your birthday and you woke up early so that you could prepare yourself for the rest of the day. it was currently 5am. right now you were having a self care moment, you know doing your nails, eyelashes, eyebrows, waxing your hair. yes you did everything you took the time out to learn how to take care of yourself the proper way. you took a deep breath before dipping your wooden stick in the bowl of hot wax. let’s just say that you didn’t enjoy that at all!’ but then again beauty is pain. you heard shuffling in the bedroom meaning gojo was now up. you smiled to yourself before placing on your robe and waking out of the bathroom and seeing your husband greet you with his bright blue eyes.

“ohhh who are you looking so beautiful for?” gojo asked lifting his eyebrow in a playful manner. “oh nobody just may husband.” you played along with him. he just chuckled, “seriously why are you so dolled up love? what’s the special occasion?” you froze as gojo tucked his head into your neck and kissed it. you were shocked. how could he forget your birthday? “what do you mean saturo?” his heart dropped down to his booty hole. he was scared for his life. see he knew that it was your birthday but he wanted to surprise you… “i’m sorry did i miss anything?” he continued to play stupid. you felt your eyes sting a little bit, did everyone forget my birthday? you thought. “you know i’m just playing with you my pretty girl! i know that today is your birthday.” gojo laughed and walked to the top of your closet. he pulled out two bags that looked extremely expensive. “here you know that i could never forget about you my love.” gojo said sighing and handing you the bags. you just smiled and covered your face as you seen him began to record you. “go on pretty girl open ittt!!” gojo danced lightly behind the camera making you laugh.

[channieskies]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕴𝕴𝕴: 𝕺𝖚𝖙𝖗𝖊́

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)

Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy

AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU

Word count: 6520 [Reading time: 27 Minutes ]

Networks: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society

Synopsis: You get the shock of your life, finding out just who and what you are. The veil is peeled back and thing start to become a little too clear for you.

CHAPTER INDEX

The back patio door swung open hard, pulling you both from the intense staring contest you were unwittingly having to see who had barged into your space. You mom stood at the threshold, her eyes as wide as saucers. “What have you done?” She shook with something akin to both anger and disappointment. “Y/N! Why did you do it?? Why?” She yelled, shocking both you and Chris. You stood and backed away, walking further down the steps and away from her wrath. You’d never seen her this angry before. She was normally the calmest person you knew, easing her way through even the toughest situations. “Why didn’t you wait for me? It’s my duty to take care of them! Now you-” She heaved the heaviest frustrated sigh. “God, what have you done?!” She dropped her head, her fingers tangling in her rust colored hair. “I guess it’s time to give you the talk I’ve been dreading since the day you were born......"

A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.

Last night felt like a fever dream. There was no way that your date-that-was-not-a-date with Chris unfolded like that. A kiss? A kiss shouldn’t have had that type of hold on you. The type of hold that had you touching your smiling lips just at the thought of it. You felt your bed dip ever so slightly, eyes traveling down to the intrusion. It was that damn cat again. What was it with that cat in your room? Did your mom make it chill in here while you were away or something? Socks came up to you, and put her paw on your hand, making you lower it. She then proceeded to boop your lips with her nose. “Was… was that a kiss?” She didn’t respond in the usual way she did, she just snuggled up to you, her cute face tucked into the crook of your arm. She must have really taken a liking to you, being that she was being affectionate with a complete stranger. Well, maybe not a complete stranger, you did introduce yourself yesterday. You stayed in bed, cuddled with your mother’s boss's cat, just petting her silky fur as she purred against you.

Just like the day before, there was a soft knock on your door before you mom peeked her head in. “Are you ready? I’ll be leaving in an hour or so for work.” She sighed looking at your form, still under the covers, still in pajamas. “You owe me, remember? You know this is important to me. So please, don’t disappoint me and say you aren’t going. ” Was it Sunday already? Gosh the weekend flew by in the blink of an eye. Your eyes flashed to the wolves you encountered the night before, your heartbeat quickening at the thought of the way it looked at you. You shuddered at the thought, wanting to push the memory as far down as you could get it. “You’re meeting my boss, so dress nice. Nothing with weird slogans or holes in it. Just.. just dress appropriately, okay?” She called for Socks, who quickly moved away from you and off the bed to your mom. “You've got an hour, young lady. Not a second more!” A hefty sigh passed your lips as you will yourself to get up and get out of bed. As a child, you would spend your weekends reading to other children in the pediatric ward of the hospital. You continued that tradition even in college, up until you left town abruptly.

It took you fifteen minutes less of the allotted time to get ready to go with your mother. You’d settled on just a plain, beige top and some army green cargo pants, so not to ‘embarrass’ your mother. As a matter of fact, she was the one cutting close to the hour she’d specifically told you that you had. “Okay, I know. I know.” Her large pink framed glasses sat on the edge of her nose as she searched the living room for something. Your mother was known around the hospital for her eccentricities. She kept her hair short and often colored a rusty color. Her glasses changed with whatever outfit she had on that day. So today they were pink, matching the yellow and pink Hello Kitty scrubs she planned for today, with her bright yellow crocs. She spoke, pulling her keys from the bowl she kept near the front door. “Grab Socks and let’s go, I don’t want to be late. Even though I’d blame it on you anyways.” All you could do was chuckle and shake your head, you knew she would absolutely blame it on you if she was late. She swung the door open and headed out to the car in her usual dramatic fashion, while you collected Socks from where she was lounging around. 

Your mother drove like a bat out of hell to make sure she could find a good parking space at the always crowded city hospital. The last time you were here, your grandfather took his last breath, leaving you with a small hole in your heart from losing him. Guess it goes to show that all the men in your life eventually leave. If not by death, then by peacing the fuck out like you were some kind of leper they didn’t want to catch a case of doom and gloom from. With Socks in her carrier, you followed your mom in. After getting your visitors pass, you made your rounds, saying hello to old faces you hadn’t seen in months, even meeting some people who were new to you, but seemed to know everything about you. Your mom really had a knack of talking a little too much about you. Especially when you received several, ‘I feel like I know you’s’ from people you’d never met. You and her would have to have a chat about that later. As per usual, you were on volunteer duty. Your mom had found the perfect job for you to do while she waited for ‘Dr. Jay’, as she affectionately called him, to finish his first set of rounds.

With Socks on her leash, you perused the pediatric ward, looking for any child that needed  ‘Kitty Care.’ According to one of the second-level nurses, Dr. Jay coined the phrase after Socks had made her first great escape from his office. She found her way to the playroom, where several children took turns playing with her. He noticed that after the kids spent time with Socks, some of their labs were better. So he brought her in twice a week to do her kitty nurse duties. Even when he was out of town, your mom took on the role of bringing Socks and taking her around. You guessed that it gave her something to do, other than work in her garden or do volunteer work. 

You swear those were the only things that woman did, besides gossip about you, of course. You sat in the much too small chair as the children gathered around to play with the sweet cat. She must’ve loved her job, you could feel her purring in your lap, vibrating her calm energy into both you and the kids. They had been telling you how long they had been in the hospital and what they were in for. Some even went as far as to tell you their favorite things, some of which you’d never heard of. But then again, you were probably old enough to be their mother at this point. Especially taking in consideration that your baby would be the same age as the youngest in the room if he or she would have survived.

You probably wouldn't admit it, but it was nice to be around people, albeit little people, who had such a positive outlook on life. They were happy, despite whatever circumstances put them in this awful place. “It’s Dr. Jay!” One of the little girls said, her perfectly round little cheeks tinting with blush. You and Socks’ captive audience dispersed one by one, each of them heading on the other side of the hand painted partition. You put Socks down, so she could run off and greet her owner and proceeded to follow behind closely. You heard his deep chuckles before you saw his face. You were expecting, hell, you didn’t know what exactly you were expecting, but it wasn’t the man who greeted you. He was kneeling, talking to the smallest of the children when his eyes met yours. He looked up slowly and you stopped in your tracks. 

This was Dr. Jay? You assumed he would be like any of the other bosses your mother had over the years. You thought he’d be some old man who had been a doctor for over half of his life. This man didn’t look a day over twenty-five, how the hell was he a practicing doctor? With his trendy gold rimless glasses, jeans far baggier than any doctor you'd ever seen before, and a graphic tee to blend his not a doctor look together under his white lab coat. This is the person your mom wanted you to dress up for? He ran his fingers through his thick hair, pushing it back just for it to fall back in his flawless face.“Dr. Jay, this lady had Socks with her! She's really nice! She's nurse Jenny's daughter.” He broke the searing eye contact he held with you for longer than he should have, with a chuckle, showing off his deep dimples.

Yes, that's what this man needed, dimples. He had to be God’s favorite, if you believed in that type of thing. He stood to his full height, which towered over both you and the children. “Ah, you must be Y/N. Your mother talks about you frequently. I feel as if I know you.” That makes him and everyone else in this damn hospital. His voice was unsuspectingly deep, and very smooth. You could listen to him talk in absolute gibberish or list off whatever medical jargon he knew and not have a problem with it. There was something about his eyes that pulled you towards him, you didn’t even notice you moved until one of the children pulled on your shirt. You looked down shocked, you could have sworn you were a few feet back from them and not in the little half circle they had formed around the doctor . “It’s nice to finally meet the woman behind all the stories your mother tells us.” 

You were enraptured by his stunning beauty. What was with this place importing all this beauty after you left town? Christopher was one of the few attractive men you knew. By few, you mean, just him. There weren’t too many other people you were physically attracted to. You fell for your exes because of personality, as hard as that was to believe now that things had ended horribly. “I’m Jaehyun, or Dr. Jay, whichever you want to call me, is fine.” He extended his hand for you to shake and that's when you noticed you hadn’t said a word to this poor man. So much for making a good impression on your mom’s boss. No wonder she told you not to embarrass her, you were downright shamefully staring at this man.

“Wait- You're her boss? I thought you’d be much… um… older and much less handsome. She really omitted that part entirely.” You laughed, feeling that embarrassing heat creep up your neck to your face. Smooth. Real smooth. Sometimes your thoughts escape their mind prison through your mouth, unfortunately. “I mean- It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Jay.” You took his warm hand in yours, trying to avoid speaking again. As soon as your fingers grazed him, you had this overwhelming feeling of deja vu, like being caught in a never ending knot, intertwined like the interlaced branches that held together your handed down, moonstone necklace. When his hand enveloped yours, scenes flashed past your briefly closed eyelids like someone fast forwarding through a movie. Cultures and languages you didn’t know or understand, moments you'd never been a part of, people you didn’t know, all of it was foreign to you, but you were seeing it as if it was through your own eyes. As if you were the main character of whatever period piece you were being compelled to witness.

Have you known this man? Tears lined your eyes as you watched all that could have been.  Or what was? You didn’t know, you didn’t remember any of this, this was the first time you were seeing anything of it. At least the first time in your lifetime. The last thing you saw was him crying at the bedside of whom you assumed was someone he deeply cared for, as the surroundings faded to darkness, dressed in clothes from a time period you didn’t recognize. You pulled your hand away quickly, rattled. What the fuck was that? You shook your head, trying to erase the fragmented realities that just passed your mind. But you felt dizzy with all of the information buzzing about in your brain. You felt lightheaded, overwhelmed with the information overload.

You snatched your hand back, afraid of what would come next if you continued skin to skin contact with the handsome doctor. “Are you okay?” He reached his hand out to check on you, but you quickly moved back. You couldn’t manage many of your mental faculties, so you just nodded in response. Did he see what you saw? Was he plagued with the same visions of what looked like the past as you had been? What in the empath hell had just happened to you?  You could have sworn shit like that only happens on Charmed. You wanted to know if he saw or felt the same things you did, but at the same time, you didn’t want to stick around and find out, just in case you were tangled in some weird destined red string of fate type situation. Fate was laughable, especially when it came to the love bit of it. You wanted no parts of that.

You said your goodbyes to the kids, telling them you’d come back another time and left both the doctor and Socks in there with them. You could feel eyes on you as you passed by the large windows that surrounded the playroom. But when you looked back, no one was watching you, they all seemed preoccupied with Socks to even notice your existence. You booked it to where you last saw your mother. You waited until she finished with a patient before you informed her that you weren’t feeling well and would head back home on your own. She didn’t argue, shockingly, and actually told you to take the car. You declined, you knew how late her shift ran, and didn’t want her stranded here until you came to get her. Plus, it was only a thirty minute walk back home.

An hour had passed and you still couldn’t shake the fragments of a past you shared with Dr. Jay. Or someone's past with Dr. Jay. The concept in itself was strange. Past lives? Your grandmother had mentioned it a few times, but you could have sworn that the lady was a little senile with the crazy things she used to say. Witches, vampires, werewolves, hybrids, magic, you name it, she believed in it. She once told you a tale of how your family came to be, that you were cursed to be the caretakers of mythical creatures. What a sham, right? Clearly that couldn't be true, you'd volunteered plenty of time throughout your life and never once met anyone out of the ordinary. 

Just regular people needing regular ass help. According to family lore, your ancestor, Enid something-another, was a witch. She owed a blood debt to someone who saved her from capture and a life of servitude. She’d told you that was the reason that the first born daughter was rooted and grounded to New Orleans once she inherited her powers and was taught how to wield them from her mother (or whatever power holder was before her). Your grandmother had broken the mold by having twin daughters, which was unheard of in your family, she often commented how she taught them both, but when the oldest twin died, she had to pass the torch to your mother.

Your mother. Your mother and all her Mrs. Frizzle like glory. That lady was many things, a witch she was not. Well, unless she cut you off in traffic, then yes, she was exactly that. No, your mother had been a mother, a nurse, a saint, a sister, a daughter, a lover, even a sort of botanist with her love of ugly plants. But there would never be a word that described her less. Witch. Ha, fat chance. Your grandmother, okay. Maybe you could justify that. With all her weird home remedies that she brewed over the open fire of your fireplace. The weird charms and crystals that decorated what is now your room. 

The strange incantations she would  say and the talismans she used to stuff in the seams of your clothes and other items to keep you safe, yes, your grandmother could have very well been a witch. But that's as far as you would have taken it in this family. So that bit of lore, you took with a grain of salt. You’d just chalk whatever you’d just experienced up to something weird going on with your hormones, and get past the weird feeling that lingered in your chest. You decided the best way to get over it would be to sleep yourself over it. You closed your eyes, hoping to drift off to lala land on a magic carpet or cloud, whatever got you there fast enough. But as soon as your eyes closed you started to hear the spookiest sound. It was like someone was scratching at the wall or the wood of a coffin.

Why was this happening to you all of a sudden? This town had its share of ghost stories, but why did it seem that you were being haunted? You closed your eyes tighter, straining to keep them that way. Gosh you wish you’d unpacked your white noise machine, you’d drown out that stupid sound with soothing rain at the highest volume. Then came the knocking. WTF? Your body shot up, glancing towards your door. The noise was inside the house. The noise was coming from outside your door. Was this how it ended for you? Being patient number two in the zombie apocalypse? You didn’t believe in vampires or werewolves, but zombies? Very plausible in your opinion. 

You couldn’t be concerned about how the thought of zombies made no sense, blood suckers and moonlight making humans change into wolves was something you couldn’t wrap your head around. It sounded chimerical, like some writer's delusions being taken seriously and spread all over the world. Against your better judgment, you climbed out of the comfort of your canopy bed and stalked over to the door. You didn’t dare open it, that would be full of stupidity on your part. Why risk getting your face bit off?

You sank to your knees, then laid on the floor. You peeped past the small gap under your door to see who or what was outside of your door, just to be greeted by white paws that looked like little socks. You opened the door to be greeted by the cutest little head tilt and meow from none other that Socks herself. “I left you with your papa, ho-how did you get all the way here?” You scooped her into your arms, and she nuzzled into your embrace. “Did you walk all the way here pretty girl?” She meows loudly, confirming. “You are brave, you know that right?” You stood to your feet and headed to the bed, laying across it and snuggling up to the cat. “I saw Something when I touched your papa. Like.. flashbacks? I guess- I honestly don't know what to call them.” You explained while she watched you and simultaneously groomed herself. “It was weird, honestly. I hope I didn’t freak him out. I was trying my best to remain at least kind of calm, but that was a hard ask…” You trailed off, wondering why the heck you were explaining all of this to a cat who just walked miles to get to your mom’s house of all places. Like she lived here and not in whatever expensive place the doctor lived in.

“You must really like it here with momma if you walked all the way here.” You laid on your arm as you stared at the beautifully unique black and white kitty with heterochromatic eyes. “Does momma treat you well?” You smiled, knowing that she did. She wasn’t unkind to anyone, that included animals just as much as humans. You always admired her love for people, knowing that you didn’t share the same love. Hurt and trauma tended to do that to a person. You used to be like her, but after your father’s tragic passing, and the way it was swept under the rug just because the person who caused that was in the mayor’s family, you’d lost faith in humanity. After falling in and out of love over and over, you’d lost faith in that as well. You were out here on this lonely island, expecting no one would ever find you and rescue you from the secluded hell you’d been living in for the last few months. Your phone buzzed on your bedside table, you turned around to answer the text that had come in.

|Christopher: You up for a late night drive or something, later?

Your brows creased. After last night? Did he forget the kiss you shared? It was still fresh on your mind as if it had been a few minutes and not almost a full twenty-four hours ago. You mustered up the courage to reply, you couldn't just leave him on read.

|You: Depends. Where do you plan on taking me and what are your intentions?

It took him a few minutes to reply, the chat bubble appearing and disappearing again and again.

|Christopher: Someplace I’ve never taken you before. And as for my intentions…… 

|I’ll pick you up around 9 pm

One thing a man would always have was the audacity. Even your dear friend Christopher at the end of the day, was a man. But you couldn’t help but smile at his obvious avoidance of your question. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

You waited for Chris on your porch, taking in the sights and sounds of your street as it bathed in moonlight. The streetlight on the corner flickered on and off, it had been that way even before you left town. It’s amazing how some things change while others remain the same. You rocked on your great-grandmother's rocking chair, the one she had made herself. One that you hoped your mother would pass on to you, because of the beautiful marking she had all over it. Your mother had once told you they were protection runes. There were little things carved all over your house into the wood of the doors and windows. Apparently your great-grandmother was very paranoid when it came to demonic possession or something. Because what else would she need protection from? You checked your phone, it was well past nine and Christopher was nowhere to be found. That was unlike him in every sense of the word. He hated being a burden to people around him, so being on time was one way to make sure he wasn’t inconveniencing people. Even with all these years of knowing him, he was always either early or right on time, you don’t think he was ever late on his own accord.

You checked your phone again, to make sure he hadn’t called or text and you just missed it, but nothing. You were starting to get worried. What if something happened to him and he couldn’t call? You shook off sending yourself into a spiral and just called him. It rang and rang, before he picked up on the last of them. “Y/N, I-I’m so sorry..” His background sounded noisy, chaotic. People were yelling in what seemed to be panic. “I.. don’t think I’ll make it-” Someone shouted for him in the background, alarm was evident in their shaky voice. “Is your mom home?” He was apologizing for not being able to make the date that he planned, while also asking if your mom was home? What the entire fuck was going on with him? The hurt and disappointment that started to swirl in your chest was causing tears to brim your eyes. 

“You stood me up and you’re asking about my mom? Christopher- What the fuck?” He sighed, you could hear him shuffling, but he didn’t reply at first. You were starting to replace all the other feelings with anger. What was his problem? “I thought you were over me leaving… Why are you being like this to me? I apologized time and time again.. Why would you turn around-” He cut you off.

“Is she home? I need… we need her help.” His worry was evident and as sad as it was to say, but it helped to quell that anger that was starting to suffocate you slowly. “Jeongin.. He’s hurt and I don’t know who else to call, she said she’d always help-” Jeongin? The youngest of his roommates? The kind but blunt little cutie that you wanted to take for yourself? How was he hurt? Now your mind really started to wonder just what he had gotten into with his friend instead of getting ready for his planned late night drive with you. He choked out a sob and it was like your call to action. Hearing him this sad squeezed at something deep inside you, made you hate hearing him in pain.

“Where are you?” There was more shuffling, like he was looking for a street name or something.

“A few blocks from your place.”

“Bring him. I’ll see what I can do.” Your mom used to patch you, your neighborhood friends, and random strangers up. You had watched her so many times, you were sure you could recreate the steps with ease. Anything to help.

“Thank you…” He hung up and it only took a few minutes for your silent street to be drenched in the grumble of his truck. How eight people fit into the bed and cab of it, you had no clue. Must have been a magic trick or something. They were loud as they shuffled past the wrought iron gate that led to your porch. Christopher carried Jeongin in his arms bridal style. He was carrying a full grown man in his arms and making it look extremely easy. But you couldn’t focus on that right now, the boy's life was in danger. There was blood everywhere. You got a glimpse of the wounds as the street light flickered on in the distance. You gasped. He needed a hospital, not a nurse or the nurse's incompetent daughter. You opened the door to the house, letting them in. Crowding the small home, the boys rushed to toss all your mothers nicknacks off the table and Chris laid Jeongin down on it. Seeing the gaping hole in the boy's stomach made you freeze in place. How could someone do this to such a sweet boy? He groaned and writhed on the table in pain. It felt like the oxygen and sound had been sucked out of the room as well as the sound as you took in the sight of him. All of the boys were lined up around the table, looking at you expectantly. You could feel their panic and it caused you to do so in turn. You swallowed hard, your heart picking up its pace, palms getting sweaty from the thought of fucking the boy with the gaping wound even more. 

What if you couldn't help? What if your hands were connected to death instead of life like your mother’s? You had lost your baby. Clearly nurturing something to fruition wasn’t in the cards for you. Your vision blurred even more as someone stepped into your field of view. Warm hands settled on your shoulders before a forehead was pressed to your own. “Please, Y/N, just try. Please… I.. don’t want him to die. None of us do. We know you will try your best, yeah?” His muffled voice slowly brought the sound back with each word he spoke. You nodded, eyes focused on him as he looked down at you. He pressed his lips to your forehead in chaste kiss. “What do you need me to do?” Taking a deep breath in, you started to delegate things for each of them to do. You scrubbed your hands and found the closest thing to surgical gloves you could, black kitchen grade ones would have to do for now. Towels, several bottles of distilled water, saline solution, a pillow, and pain medication from the medicine cabinet. You, on the other hand, took to your mothers herbal cabinet where she kept all her home remedies. You’d seen her in here plenty of times, but being the one in here felt oddly familiar. It was like she was guiding you to grab the things that you’d need, sage, rosemary, thyme, cinnamon, calendula, centella asiatica, boswellia, manuka honey, and lamb ear. You grabbed the mortar and pestle and took it to the table, you began breaking and grinding the plants and herbs together into a paste. 

“Someone bring the palo santo candle off of the living room table, it will help to get rid of whatever bad energy is holding this wound.” You took a bottle of water and poured it over a towel, you handed it to Minho so that he could clean the space around Jeongin’s gaping wound. You were normally too scatterbrained to multitask, but you were doing it now as if it was second nature. Like you were born to handle situations like this. “Okay, some of you are going to have to leave. Sit in the backyard or on the front porch if you want. But I need space. Chris and Minho can stay.” You centered yourself in the moment as the rest of the boys reluctantly evacuated the tiny house with groans of disappointment. It was just you and your two helpers and a currently unconscious Jeongin. “Chris, hold his arms, Minho gets his legs. This might be unpleasant.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you gathered the macerated herbs, honey and flowerlet mixture into your hands. You were going to have to pack to wound with the mixture before placing the lamb ear over it and actual bandage wraps over that to keep everything in place. Minho and Chris shared a look and took their positions as told. “Ready?”

It was a fight to get Jeongin to stay still as you tried your hand at helping his wound. But miraculously, Chris and Minho did a fantastic job at keeping him stationary. He was now resting in your bed, while the rest of the boys were littered around your house, doing their own thing while they waited for him to come to. You were perched on the back steps, looking up at the waxing crescent moon, a glass of whiskey in your shaky hand to calm your very frazzled nerves. You just did dining room surgery without a medical license, and you had no idea if the boy would survive because of you or die because of you.  You raked your fingers through your hair and sighed. You needed a cigarette, just to take the edge off of these sharp ass feelings you were currently being overwhelmed with. You were even tolerating the cool night air, glad to be out of the suffocating house. How did he even end up like that? It wasn’t normal. His wound didn’t look like a knife made it, not even the most jagged of knives could have ripped him open like that. It looked like someone tore into him with… claws of all things. Your mind drifted back to that night on the road on the way back from Chris’s place and the large wolves that crossed the road that night. Could that have been what happened to Jeongin? Wolves got him? A shiver went down your spine, just to be replaced by the warmth of someone's hand. You startled. “My gosh- Christopher, you can’t sneak up on me like that!” He chuckled lightly, his feelings seeming a little lighter than they did earlier.

“I thought you would have heard the screen door.” He took a seat right next to you and pulled you into him for a comforting hug. His hand found yours, fingers wrapping around it, easing the tremors that caused it to quake. He was the epitome of comfort, always finding a way to give solace to your turbulent mind and heart. “Jeongin just woke up.” He kissed the top of your head as a way to express his gratitude. “Thank you for fighting for him so fiercely. I don’t think he could have waited for your mom’s shift to finish.” He sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. You could always tell when there was something on his mind, even now. “I think I should tell you what happened… I owe you that at least.” You pulled away to look at him, missing the warmth from his body almost immediately. You nodded for him to continue. “He was attacked. Hunted… really.” Your head snapped to his face to make sure you didn’t hear that wrong. “Jeongin and Seungmin went into town to see a movie.. But after it ended, they were confronted by this.. Pac- gang. They were asked to join them, but when they declined..” Your face morphed into one of horror while he remained calm. “They went for the one they knew would put up the biggest fight. They had more people than they boys thought… and they ended up pinning Seungmin while they.. Cl- cut into Jeongin. Telling them to take this as a message and a warning. Follow or die.” How could he be so calm about this? You had steam coming out of your ears. You were seeing red, Jeongin just wanted to see a movie with his friend and this is the outcome? You grit your teeth, trying to hold in your anger. “They beat Seungmin up after doing that to Innie. We found them in the alley behind the theater about an hour after they didn’t check in.”

You were seething. All this just because they wouldn’t join whatever gang of idiots did this to them? How was that even an incentive? That would make anyone more fearful of what they had in store for them if they did join. “Do I need to get my uncle to find out who they are? I can make a few calls and have their info to you within the hour or…” He stopped you, a soft smile facing his plump lips. 

“We’ll get it taken care of, don’t worry. Changbin is gathering intel as we speak.” You were glad that Christopher had finally found his people. He struggled after coming here from Australia, even with him being the friendliest person you’d ever met, he still had people that didn’t like him. (Shocking, I know.) He’d even had beef with a rugby player, a violent mother fucker who you also couldn’t stand, Vaiden. That dude always acted like he had the biggest cock known to man and anyone should be thankful he was offering it to them. When he pushed up on you at a party after you ignored his advances, Chris fought for your honor. It was brutal, they pummeled each other on the concrete of the fraternity row. You still to this day can’t tell who won, because they were equally matched despite Vaiden being much taller and having at least a good fifty pounds on your dear friend. If it wasn’t for the cops being called, you were sure they would have killed each other. Him and his friends tried their best to make it hard for Chris, but he always persevered somehow. So with him now finding some other friends, besides the likes of you, was nice to see. He seemed at home with the boys. Like he was finally able to be himself out in the open instead of in the confines of yours or his dorm room. “We’ll take him home tonight, to make sure both you and him get a good night's sleep. You worked hard and you deserve to sleep in your own bed, with clean sheets of course.” You shook your head. His hand found yours once again, his fingers drawing patterns on your skin. It was probably as comforting to him as it was soothing to you.

“Jeongin can stay as long as he needs to. I just want him to get better. Plus, he needs to get all the rest he can while he recovers. I can sleep with my mom or take the pullout if need be.” He smiled at you fondly for reasons you wouldn’t understand. “If you want, I have my old sleeping bag, you can stay and use that.” It wasn’t like it would have been the first time he’d used it, he’d slept over a few times for the holidays since traveling back to Australia was a big hassle. Plus there was almost never enough time in a holiday for him to get there, have a good time, and get back. So most of the time was spent with you and your mom in this cramped little house. You smiled thinking about all the good times you shared with Chris. It didn’t matter if you were both too broke to afford food and had to go halfsies on a meal from McDonalds, you had each other through the hard times. You missed being in the trenches with your best friend. “It’s up to you, Chris. I’ll go with whatever you want.” He looked at you then, only to notice your eyes were already on him. He looked at you deeply as if something in your eyes would give him the answers he needed.

The back patio door swung open hard, pulling you both from the intense staring contest you were unwittingly having to see who had barged into your space. You mom stood at the threshold, her eyes as wide as saucers. “What have you done?” She shook with something akin to both anger and disappointment. “Y/N! Why did you do it?? Why?” She yelled, shocking both you and Chris. You stood and backed away, walking further down the steps and away from her wrath. You’d never seen her this angry before. She was normally the calmest person you knew, easing her way through even the toughest situations. “Why didn’t you wait for me? It’s my duty to take care of them! Now you-” She heaved the heaviest frustrated sigh. “God, what have you done?!” She dropped her head, her fingers tangling in her rust colored hair. “I guess it’s time to give you the talk I’ve been dreading since the day you were born. Christopher, unless you want to be involved, I suggest you and your friends take your leave. Jeongin is up and walking around, so it’s safe for him to travel.” She turned her back to you, shaking her head, disappearing into the house leaving you there in awe of what just happened. 

“Wait- did she just say Jeongin was up and walking?” Your head snapped in Chris’ direction as he looked at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“About that…”

PREVIOUS CHAPTER⇠☾⇢NEXT CHAPTER

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.』

[adore-laur]

CALIFORNIA DUSK

— birth of baby #2 in the dadrry universe 🌊

——

6:24 AM

California dawn brings serenity to the house. The sun is leisurely rising, painting the sky with wispy pink brushstrokes across an endless canvas of powder blue. Seagulls croon as they fly parallel to the hazy horizon, gracefully dipping their claws down in the water to catch their first meal of the day. Waves crash against the vacant ocean shore with persistence, as if to announce that morning has arrived once again.

Soon, golden rays will seep through the flowing curtains and cast shapes on the hardwood floors. The trees will start to sway from the coastal breeze, sending earthy scents of pine and cedar into the kitchen. Toys scattered in the living room from the night before will be left alone to wallow until their owner sleepily waddles from her bedroom with a yawn and an empty stomach.

A spoon clinks against the edge of a mug, echoing throughout the tranquil kitchen as chickadees sing their song near the window. Yet the current calmness of your surroundings doesn't quite match how you feel inside.

Being awake for the past two hours—hunched over the kitchen island and rocking side to side while breathing through painful cramping—isn't how you would've liked to commence your morning. Harry is brewing homemade coffee for himself since there's a high chance it will be a long, tiresome day ahead. He's been up with you since you started having contractions, and you tried to convince him to keep sleeping, but there was no way to persuade him since he's naturally an early riser. And you know he would never let you handle the discomfort alone.

Your daughter is still fast asleep in her room down the hall, oblivious to how soon she'll be a big sister. You're not looking to traumatize her at a young age, so Harry's mother is on her way to pick her up in case you give birth.

You've decided on a natural water birth this time. Being in the hospital for your first childbirth experience was tolerable, but the atmosphere gave you tremendous anxiety. The nurses hovering over you, the constant beeping of the machines, and the stale room all felt suffocating. You're confident you'll feel more at ease in the comfort of your own home, with only Harry and the midwife witnessing you in your most vulnerable state.

As the pain temporarily alleviates in your abdomen, you slowly straighten your posture and walk some laps around the living room. There's nothing you can do except hang tight and see if anything progresses. The contractions haven't gotten to the point of being unbearable, but they still beg the question of whether you'll be having a baby today. It's a waiting game.

Harry is surprisingly relaxed, and you suppose it's because this isn't his first rodeo. Seeing the difference in his composure compared to the first time you went into labor is humorous. He had clammy hands, was a stuttering mess, and also forgot to bring his driver's license when he drove you to the hospital.

Now, it's like he has never been more prepared for anything in his entire life. He could be hiding his nerves well, but otherwise, he's extremely put together as he whistles the "We Just Got a Letter" jingle from Blue's Clues that always gets stuck in his head because your daughter watches the show every morning. He's already dressed for the birth that might not even happen today—swim shorts for when he gets in the birthing pool with you and a faded graphic tee that looks like it has seen better days. His favorite blue baseball cap is snug on his head, covering his messy hair that curls upwards underneath. He looks casually gorgeous in the morning light.

After your tenth lap, you wander back to the kitchen and stand beside Harry as he drops two slices of bread into the toaster. He looks down at you and smiles.

"Hi," he says, leaning his hip against the counter. "Contraction over with?"

"For now," you reply dully. "I'm sure there'll be plenty more."

He jerks his chin toward the sink. "I want you to drink some water."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Please just drink one glass for me, baby," he says, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a jar of grape jam. "Let's not have a repeat of last time."

You roll your eyes and steal a cup from the drying rack. He clearly remembers when you vomited at the hospital just hours before giving birth. Yes, you were dehydrated, but that was the last thing on your mind.

As you sip cloudy tap water, you watch Harry silently spread jam onto his perfectly browned toast. He's been too quiet this morning—entirely cool, calm, and collected. You miss his delirious morning humor.

"You're scaring me."

Harry freezes with the butter knife in his grasp. "I didn't know your husband making breakfast was a fear of yours."

There it is!

"No, not that." You wipe off a glob of jam on his thumb. "You're just really relaxed right now."

Setting his toast on a plate, he turns to you with a crease between his eyebrows. "Should I be freaking out?"

"Well, I might give birth soon," you say, your heart rate increasing at the mere thought. "Doesn't that, I don't know, make you nervous?"

"Of course, I'm nervous," he replies, gently squeezing your shoulders. "I'm sure I'll be a hot mess once you're in full-on labor. I'm just enjoying the morning with you while you're still pregnant. You know... soaking it all in."

You release a shaky exhale, your mind spiraling as everything becomes more real the longer you talk about how you'll be a family of four very soon. "Okay," you whisper unconvincingly. "That makes sense."

Harry obviously doesn't buy it because he stares at you briefly before trapping your fidgeting hands with his own. "What's going on?"

"I'm freaking out," you admit weakly. Your voice wavers, and the lump in your throat is hard to swallow.

His face softens with sympathy as your eyes gloss over with tears. "Let's walk down to the shore," he suggests, kissing your forehead. "Just you and me before it gets crazy in here."

Sniffling, you ask, "What if I can't make it back to the house?"

"Then I'll carry you."

"Good luck with that," you mutter before grabbing your phone from the kitchen table. "Let's go while I have a break from contractions."

He nods, taking his plate and the baby monitor from the countertop, and then leads the way out the patio door.

During the short journey there, your heart blooms with fondness when you catch Harry smiling to himself as he walks, his tattooed arms swinging. It's too endearing not to keep as a permanent memory, so you open the camera on your phone and press record. The fresh air has rapidly lifted your mood, and you're thankful for it.

"What are you grinning about over there?"

Harry looks up and gives the camera a big, open-mouthed smile, pure excitement exuding from him. He's been waiting so patiently for another baby, and now it's slowly but surely becoming reality.

"What's got you so happy?" You laugh and stop recording.

He shrugs, still smiling contagiously. "I can't believe it's happening. It just hit me right now."

Both of you reach the sand and sit away from the lapping waves in case you have to head back to the house promptly. Harry places himself behind you, a position that's supposed to help when a contraction comes. You can hold onto his legs for leverage and support, and he can massage wherever you're hurting.

"I can't believe it either," you reply with a pensive shake of your head.

"Talk to me. How are you feeling?" Harry asks, taking a crunchy bite of toast. "Emotionally, I mean."

Talk to me. It's a three-word sentence he's been saying to you for years. He always wants to know how you're feeling whenever you bottle up your thoughts—anger, sorrow, or happiness. It has never changed, and it never fails to help immensely.

"I'm not as nervous as last time," you answer, closing your eyes when he starts playing with your hair. "I feel more prepared since I know what to expect, but it's terrifying that I'm doing it naturally this time."

He hums in acknowledgment. "That's completely valid. No one expects you to be one hundred percent confident when pushing a baby out, no matter how many times you've done it before. Just know that I'm eternally grateful that you've grown two beautiful babies for us. You're a superstar."

"Thanks. I just feel like—" You gasp suddenly, your hand quickly shooting to your side as another contraction hits.

"Okay," Harry says soothingly, grabbing your hand so you can squeeze his own. He quickly unlocks his phone to set a timer. "It's okay. Breathe with me."

You inhale and exhale through the internal pain, the tight cramping making you lean back against his chest. "Harry, it hurts," you cry as your other hand grips his knee. "Ow, ow, ow."

"I've got you. Just breathe through it." He lifts the hem of your oversized shirt and spreads his hand on your stomach. It's stretched beyond belief and has dropped significantly throughout the past week. "Focus on my breathing, all right? And relax your shoulders. They're too tense."

You breathe with him as he massages your lower back. Your face is getting hot and your throat is dry, but the only thing you can fully pinpoint is the penetrating pain.

"Tell me something. Please distract me."

Harry kisses your temple. "You look really pretty."

"Shut up," you mumble with a laugh that quickly turns into a groan of discomfort.

"I'm serious. I love how you look in the morning when the sun hits your face, like right now. It makes you glow even more than usual. And the way it brightens your eyes reminds me so much of our daughter." He turns your face so you're looking at him. "I see you in her all the time."

You smile weakly and rest your head on the dip between his neck and shoulder. "Yeah, but she has your bunny teeth."

His deep, comforting laugh vibrates against your back. "Mm, you'd be the one to notice that."

You just tiredly nod as the contraction subsides. You make a good guess that you're not close to labor yet because of how far apart and mild they've been so far. The midwife is only five minutes away, so there's no dire need for her to come and check on you.

"I think that one's done." You carefully sit up and release his hand. "How long was it?"

Harry checks his phone. "Forty-seven seconds."

"Short," you think aloud. "They've been irregular, so I think they might be Braxton Hicks."

He dramatically falls back onto the sand and spreads his arms out. "Does that mean no baby today?"

You snort and cuddle up next to him. "Soon. You have to be patient."

He's silent for a minute before asking, "Isn't sex supposed to induce labor?"

You scoff and swat at his chest. "I swear you asked me that last time."

"Oh, I definitely did. You rejected me and then literally didn't go into labor until a week later, remember? You should've listened to me."

"I don't think it would be enjoyable for either of us if we tried. I couldn't even walk down here without feeling like passing out."

Harry draws patterns on your belly with his finger, causing a response of fluttery kicks from the baby. "I know, I'm only joking. We don't have to be anywhere or do anything right now. Let's stay out here for a little bit, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan," you mumble into his shoulder. The world around you drowns out like the shells under the waves as you focus on his heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping of your favorite part of him lulls you to sleep, his hand gently stroking your hair as time passes with each movement of the sun.

Your nerves wash away with each ocean tide, and you know everything will be all right.

——

7:03 PM 

The tub is ready.

You are not.

A shirtless Harry is already sitting in the circular birthing pool, looking like he's ready to deliver the baby himself. You've changed into your swimsuit and are now vaguely listening to what the midwife is telling you as you lean against the wall and suffer through another contraction—a particularly strong one that indicates you're going to start pushing soon.

Your water has already broken, and you're not quite sure why you're waiting until the very last second to get into the tub, but nothing in your mind is making sense due to the overwhelming pain. The bedroom is too small, the lights are too bright, the way Harry's dotingly looking at you is too much, and your body feels too weak even though it's about to perform the most vigorous exercise imaginable.

"We need you in the tub so I can check your dilation," says the midwife, snapping you out of your overthinking spiral.

"I-I can't," you reply helplessly. "I don't think I can do this. I don't want to do this."

You regret not just sucking it up and going to the hospital so they can inject you with an epidural.

"I am going to do everything I can to give you a safe and smooth delivery process," she assures you. "Your husband is waiting for you. He's going to be your support system the entire time, okay? Do you trust him to do that?"

You frantically nod your head—you've never trusted anyone more. "The water will help with the pain," she adds with a kind smile. "It will relax your muscles and make you feel very nice. Can you get in the tub for me? Harry will help you."

You look at him, seeing his slightly shaky hands beckon you closer. You swallow and take a deep breath before slowly approaching him. Equipment scatters the floor and the bed beside you—clean blankets, a tarp for the mess, towels, medical supplies, and a cup of ice.

Harry carefully helps you into the birthing tub, positioning you so your back is against his bare chest. Once you're situated in the lukewarm water, you focus on his heartbeat pounding double-time.

"I can't do this," you repeat as you slide your swimsuit bottoms off.

"Yes, you can," Harry says, kneading your shoulders. "It'll be so worth it. We'll have a baby boy or girl to hold tonight."

"I'm scared. What if something goes wrong? What if I can't handle the pain? What if I—"

"Hey," he scolds softly. "Please don't think like that. Remember last time? What did I tell you to do to distract yourself?"

"Count your tattoos."

"That's right. I've gotten quite a few more since then, so get to counting. Distract your mind from the pain. I'm not going anywhere."

You begin counting, starting with your name tattooed on his right thigh. You then grab his left arm and count all the small ones near his hand. The chrysanthemum on the inside of his wrist represents your daughter's birth flower, along with her date of birth written in cursive underneath. There's also the outline of a wave representing his home with you in California, where you built your life together. They all mean something near and dear to his heart.

The midwife brings you out of your trance when she leans over the pool and checks your dilation as Harry places comforting kisses on the back of your head. "You're about eight centimeters," she tells you after a few seconds of uncomfortable inspection.

"I feel like I need to push," you say timidly. "I feel the baby really low."

"We need to wait until you're ten centimeters," she replies. "If you can just hold out a little longer, it'll be much easier to push, okay?"

You nod and let out a long groan when the contraction moves from your lower back to your pelvis.

"Do you want your ice?" Harry asks.

"Yes, please."

He reaches behind him and grabs the cup filled with chipped ice. You begin chewing on a piece to cool your body temperature and force your brain to focus on something else.

Several minutes pass, with Harry whispering loving encouragements as the midwife talks you through what's about to happen. She allows you to exert tiny pushes while applying pressure to your abdomen. Everything goes in one ear and out the other, but you know the moment is almost here. There's no stopping now.

"Do you still feel like you need to push, honey?" the midwife asks, checking your dilation again.

"Yeah. Am I ten centimeters yet?"

"Just about. I'm going to have you push now."

You turn your head and stare at Harry with wide eyes. He messily captures your lips with his, then moves them near your ear. "I'm right behind you. Whatever you need, just let me know. If you need me to get out or scream at me—anything at all."

You look forward when the midwife parts your legs and encourages you to push using all of your strength.

The first push is the most agonizing. Your head throws itself back on Harry's shoulder as you grit your teeth and contract what feels like every muscle in your body. The midwife counts to ten, the seconds dragging on like minutes. Your face is scrunched up tight, and your legs are tense in the water. Harry softly counts in your ear, taking your left hand in his.

Breathe out for three. 

The second push feels like you're on fire, but not in a good way. The aching, cramping, and stinging pain shooting all over your body is borderline unbearable. It's felt externally, internally, and everywhere in between. You let a cry escape your mouth as the pain strikes your lower abdomen in full force. Harry kisses your ring finger and sets your hand on his heart.

Breathe out for three. 

The third push gets you the farthest. Your ringing ears distantly hear something along the lines of I can see the head, and you feel a sharp breath from Harry hitting your neck and a kiss behind your ear. When the midwife gets to number two, she pulls the head out. The burning sensation remains, but the most challenging part is out of the way.

Breathe out for three. 

The final push is when you give every ounce of energy you have left, squeezing both of Harry's hands so tightly that you're afraid you might break his bones. You're told to give your strongest and longest push, making your entire body rigid as you stop your breathing to make this the last one. Harry chants motivational words from behind you: They're almost here, you're doing so good, I love you. 

Then, all at once, there's release.

Relief.

Remission.

You quickly pull your baby up from under the water and cradle them against your heaving chest. You're shivering from the adrenaline, and your body feels bizarrely empty.

"It's a girl!" announces the midwife as she wipes and rubs her down with a towel.

The tears immediately fall. You hear Harry let out a quiet sob as he buries his face in your neck with trembling lips. With his forehead pressed to your skin, he sniffles while the sound of your baby girl's cries fills the room.

"Would Dad like to cut the cord?"

Harry nods and palms his tear-filled eyes. She passes tiny surgical scissors over to him and stretches the umbilical cord, showing him where to snip. He carefully moves out from behind you and releases an emotional breath as he opens the scissors, but he drops them in the tub because of his shaky hands.

"Sorry," he says with a choked laugh. He picks them up and tries again, successfully cutting the cord. The midwife cheers and begins setting things up for the after-birth process.

You cradle the back of your baby's head and cry with unspeakable happiness. "Hold her," you tell Harry now that she's detached.

He reaches his hands out, and you carefully pass her squirming body over to him. He seems almost lost in a trance for a second, but when her cries die down instantly once her skin meets his, he looks at you with the most breathtaking smile.

She clings to him like a lifeline, her cheek squished against his chest and her tiny hands spread on his collarbones. "Look," he whispers to you with watery eyes. "Look at her."

"I know. She loves you already."

His gaze is now focused on you, with an expression conveying so many emotions. You think he's never looked more beautiful.

"Thank you," he says.

Those two simple words are spoken with a heavy amount of sincerity. You know what they mean: Thank you for letting me be a father. Thank you for pushing through all the mental and physical changes again. Thank you for her. 

You smile and blink back more tears. "All in a day's work."

Harry shakes his head as his eyes dance over your face. "You're the strongest person I know. I've never seen anything more incredible than what you just did."

"Thank you for helping me through it."

"I always will," he says while stroking your baby girl's back with his large hand. It almost engulfs her entire body.

"Are you insinuating we're going to have more babies?"

"You know I'd have a million with you. You're fuckin' perfect."

You slap his arm lazily. "Don't swear."

He leans in until his forehead touches yours. "Give me a kiss."

"Your lips are dry."

He licks his lips, and you meet his mouth. He hums and grins into the kiss, pulling away from you with a glint in his eyes. "I love you so much," he murmurs before glancing at his daughter. "Both of you. My heart beats for my girls."

"I love you."

A tiny hand suddenly hits Harry's mouth. He sputters a laugh and grabs it, kissing it repeatedly until she lets out a gurgle. He laughs in disbelief and hikes her up to smell her head, the baby scent being one of his favorite parts about having a newborn.

"Already a daddy's girl," you slur tiredly, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

He puckers endless kisses onto her head. "Think I'll keep you forever, angel," he tells her. "Is that okay? Hmm? Gonna be my snuggle bug when I need it the most?"

Her eyes remain closed, and her lips smack as she lets out a silent cry. You look at Harry, and you find him absolutely mesmerized by her. Every small movement she makes, every change in facial expression, every noise that comes from her—he's watching it all with proud eyes and a permanent smile.

No other man would you want as your husband. No other man would you want to be the father of your babies.

——

8:40 PM

It's been a little over an hour since you gave birth, and since then, you've been moved to the bed after being cleaned up. You've just finished breastfeeding and now lie with her in your arms as you try to fall asleep next to Harry. He's still making calls to his loved ones to tell them the news, and each time he does, he gets emotional all over again when the person on the other line gasps or screams with joy.

He's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and part of his hair is held back with one of your daughter's pink butterfly clips. You're both running on empty but have never been more blissfully content as she sleeps, her body wrapped in a white swaddle and a baby beanie snug on her head.

The windows are open, letting the ocean breeze waft in and cool your body's dull ache. The midwife had been kind enough to bring you snacks, leaving ice water, a plate of crackers, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt for you on the nightstand. There was an instance when Harry asked for a spoonful of your yogurt, and when you fed it to him, some dropped onto your baby's cheek. You both broke into silent laughter until she got fussy from your movements. Or maybe it was from the cold dollop of yogurt on her sensitive skin. Either way, it was entertaining.

Now, you drift off beside him and feel the soft breaths of your baby girl on your breast as the linen curtains blow in time with the swelling waves meeting the shore.

"Are you awake?" Harry asks quietly after he ends another call.

"Barely," you whisper into his sleeve. It smells like heaven.

He kisses your temple and inhales deeply. "I just got off the phone with my boss. He says congratulations and to name her after him."

You release a laugh laced with drowsiness. "I don't think she'd appreciate being named after an ornery old man."

"True. That was the last call I needed to make, by the way." He scoots down the bed and gently nuzzles his head into your side. "Get some rest. I'll be quiet now."

"I don't want to miss anything," you say, even though your eyes have been involuntarily closing for the past ten minutes.

He lightly scratches up and down your arm. "She's sleeping, my love."

"I know, but what if she does something cute?"

"Then I'll wake you up."

"Promise?" Your eyes droop once again with overpowering fatigue.

"I promise." He seals it with a tender kiss on your shoulder. "You need—"

A knock on the bedroom door interrupts him and makes your head turn toward the sound. The knob jiggles for a few seconds before the door slowly opens with a creak to reveal your daughter standing there. She's holding her favorite blanket, her thumb tucked in her mouth. You assume Harry's mother must have just arrived and is letting her have some alone time with the both of you.

"Hi, lovebug," Harry says softly. "C'mere, we've got a surprise for you."

She cautiously shuffles over to the edge of the bed and inspects the sleeping bundle in your arms. "Did you have fun with Grandma today?" you ask her.

She nods distractedly, her eyes still glued to the baby. Harry smiles and picks her up, setting her on his lap. "That's your baby sister," he explains. "You're officially a big sister now."

She looks at him. "Where?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle and shifts her closer to the baby. "Right here, sweetheart. She's sleeping, so you have to be quiet."

"Oh," she whispers. You and Harry exchange smiles.

"Isn't she pretty?" you ask.

"Yeah." Her voice is still a whisper as she pokes the baby's fists. "So little."

"She is," Harry says with a sniffle. "You were once that little. You have no idea how perfectly you fit in my arms."

You kiss her cherubic cheek. "Do you want to hold her?"

She glimpses at Harry as if to ask for permission, and he nods his head in encouragement. He positions her between the two of you, and then you maneuver the baby into her arms while ensuring the head is supported.

The sight is something out of a dream. How attentive she is to her new baby sister, admiring her like a delicate flower, examining her closely like a beautiful specimen, gently touching her nose and puckered lips. She keeps looking at you and Harry when the baby wiggles or makes a noise, a look of pure innocence and curiosity that brings more heartfelt tears to your eyes.

You eventually peel your gaze away from her and find Harry staring at you. A tear falls from his bottom eyelashes, his nostrils flaring from residual emotions hitting him. Reaching over, you thumb away the teardrop and focus on the bay window. The sun has dived below the darkening horizon, allowing stars to faintly dot the sky. Cicadas buzz in nearby bushes, and the night tides of the ocean collide with the sand that will soon be illuminated by the moon.

It's quiet in the bedroom, with nothing but the sound of soft breathing and the occasional coo from the baby. Your family of three is now four, and you've never felt more full of love. The world around you is serene, just like it was during the sunrise before she came into the world.

California dusk has brought you an angel.

——

[izvmimi]

cw: infidelity. semi-public sex. minors dni. part of the infidelity series here.

the breathing slows then stops between the two of you, lips just slightly far apart and yours trembling still from the contact of just before. as you stop and contemplate what you're doing, how you got here to this very moment, to this very wrong situation, you swallow hard, and as he pulls his own lower lip between his teeth, you can feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

but the words 'we shouldn't do this' don't make it into the suffocatingly warm air. electricity and tension remains instead, and katsuki steps forward, and with a hand pressed softly on the side of your face, leans in to kiss you again. the taste of alcohol on his tongue blurs your already numbed senses, and your eyes close and you're not exactly picturing him, even if you know that it is him that you're kissing in this dark dingy bar bathroom for the first time - in fact, it should hsve never happened.

you don't exactly imagine your boyfriend either, thousands of miles away and none the wiser. all you can think of is the desire that swells in your chest with the swish of your tongues around each other, when katsuki's fingers find their way snugly around your neck, gripping tighter than izuku would ever have the reckless abandon to do. after all, you are not his girl, and he doesn't have to cherish you the way he does his actual fiancée, even if you're doing this awful dance at this very moment.

maybe you can stop here, you think, but katsuki's tongue dips deeper down your throat and the hole you both are digging also deepens. your hand tugs at his shirt, needy for someone who you have no business needing. he pulls away just enough to pull his shirt over his head and that's when you see it.

her name.

your stomach lurches.

fine ink, seen in a flash as he moves back in and slips his own hand under your shirt, under your bra, and cups your breast in the palm of his hand. the unmistakable curves of the letters of your name... you are her best friend, and yet her fiancé is playing with your nipples with one hand and biting and sucking hickeys into your lower lip, and your neck.

"d-don't leave marks," you murmur.

"just cover them," katsuki grunts as he lifts you onto the sink, fitting himself between your spread legs.

he doesn't belong there.

you've always argued, but this time you opt unwisely to surrender instead. you try not to look at the name emblazoned on his chest, and eventually you no longer see it. not when you help the buckle off of katsuki's belt, the fabric of his jeans dropping loudly to the ground, and not when he presses his thick length against the part of your body that betrays much easier than your heart and head. you don't see it when he's finally inside you and you're doubled over his body, arms wrapped around shoulders that aren't familiar to you.

you forget he doesn't belong to you as you call his name instead of izuku's, and that even if katsuki has the love of his life tattooed on his heart, izuku has you woven in the very matter of his soul.

katsuki's voice in the moment is so different, gruff but with a different quality of sweetness, or perhaps it's the haze of pleasure and uncertainty in your brain that makes it hard for you to tell the difference between love and lust. he can't possibly love you but the dick is so damn good.

and when he eventually stops fucking you, it's gonna hurt so damn bad. for both of you.

[incandescentlysomething]

Princess of the Smoke: Chapter 1

House of the Dragon Season 2

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 6802

Chapter Summary: Aelinor journeys North to find her brother, while Aemond seethes against the Greens inaction. This follows Episode 1 of Season 2!! Full spoilers ahead!

This is a sequel to Lady of the Ashes! It follows the events of the show, but is canon-divergent.

The Wall rose from the horizon like a terrible, icy beacon. At last, she had made it.

Aelinor tightened her grips on the reins, her frozen fingers creaking in protest. She had flown without rest for days, determined to carry the news to Jace herself, but only in the past few hours had it become truly unbearable. The ache of being in the saddle for so long had faded behind the blistering cold that stung her face. More than once her eyelashes had frozen to each other, her entire face now completely numb. She could scarcely feel the cold at this point, and that thought was all the more terrifying.

Darrax gave a loud screech, sensing the relief that flooded her veins. Finally, she was there.

She didn’t want to admit it, but there was a part of her that wondered if she would ever make it. This was ten times as far as she had ever flown before, and while she had not doubted Darrax’s strength to carry her, she had doubted her own ability. But her father had tasked her with this mission, this chance to do her part, and she had been resolved not to fail.

Were she not nearly blind from the wind, she might have been more in awe of the Wall. It was one of the great marvels of the world, towering higher than anything she had ever seen. The sheer face of ice looked harsh and unforgiving, the only signs of life that were immediately visible was a single small black lift that cleaved its way through the side.

With a flip of the reins, she drove Darrax lower, ducking out of the last bit of cloud cover and exposing herself completely to the keep below. Castle Black seemed a hollow, empty thing, impossibly small next to the size of the Wall. From this high, she could see small ant-like Night’s Watchmen scurrying back and forth. A quick scan of the courtyard betrayed no immediate sign of Vermax or Jace. 

“Vezot, Darrax!” Higher!

Darrax’s powerful wings beat harder, banking hard at the Wall and carrying them toward the top. She had not come all this way just to stop before seeing what lay beyond. She leaned forward in her saddle, squeezing hard with her thighs to keep her seat as they flew nearly vertical. In a matter of seconds they had reached the top, and Aelinor direct Darrax over the wall.

He dipped his head as if to follow her command, and then banked hard to the right. Wondering if he had hit a draft, Aelinor pulled again, circling them around until the wall was at their left shoulder. But again, she ordered him to fly over, Darrax refused.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. Darrax had never disobeyed her before, and yet she saw from the way he shook his head from side to side that something up here unnerved him greatly.

A shout came from the top of the wall, and Aelinor saw a man with dark hair lift a hand in greeting. He stood next to a very large man cloaked in fears, both of them observing as she circled around.

She lifted a hand to Jace, before pulling Darrax away and directing him down the wall.

In hindsight, the courtyard of Castle Black was likely too small to hold a dragon, and that was why there was no sign of Vermax. 

“Dragon!” Someone below cried as Darrax pulled in his wings, dropping on top of a firepit. It look Aelinor a moment to blink the wind from her eyes, to take in the swarms of men clad in black fur running forward bearing spears and swords, all of them pointed at her.

“State your purpose!” A man shouted. She let her gaze slide across the crowd until she found one man standing at the top of a staircase. He had a grizzled old beard, his wrinkled face seemingly frozen into a permanent grimace.

Aelinor stretched out her hands, feeling her injured hand spasm in protest. For days she had been clasping the reins tightly, and now her body was feeling the consequences.

At their side, the great wheel that controlled the lift began to turn.

“I said, state your purpose, woman!” The man shouted again, met with a chorus of grunts from his men.

She glanced up, looking through her frozen lashes as she swung one leg over the saddle. “Am I to understand that you’re the Lord Commander?”

The Lord Commander lifted a hand, and she heard the telltale draw of bowstrings. Darrax hissed, and the men jumped backward.

“Shoot me if you must, My Lord Commander,” Aelinor sighed, her fingers fumbling with the straps around her leg. She was shaking, partly from exhaustion but also from fear. There had to be fifty men in this yard, all of them with weapons trained on her. “But it shall not end in your favor.”

“We are men of the North, and we do not fear—”

“Stand down at once!” A voice boomed over the courtyard.

Instantly all weapons were lowered an inch, everyone turning the the black cage as it set down at the base of the wall. A boy hurried to undo the latch, and two men walked out. 

“My Lord!” The Lord Commander cried. “This creature has—”

Aelinor heard a startled gasp, a second before something richocheted off Darrax’s skills, only a hair’s width away from her thigh.

Darrax’s whipped toward the offender with a growl, a lanky young man holding his empty bow and trembling. “I’m sorry, my Lord!” He shouted. “Only I could not—”

“You dare fire upon my sister!” Jace shouted, and Aelinor felt something inside her melt with relief at his voice. 

“That is Princess Aelinor, you morons!” The other man, who she now knew must be Lord Cregan Stark, growled. “Who else do you think would fly in here on a dragon?”

There was confused muttering for a second, and then the Lord Commander turned towards the soldier who had fired the bow. “You have attempted to kill a Princess of the Realm. The sentence for that is—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aelinor clicked her tongue, and Darrax stuck out a wing for her to dismount. “Anyone can see that it was an accident.”

Jace was on the ground beneath her, holding up a hand to assist her to the ground. “You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t,” She squeezed his gloved hand in hers, turning back to her dragon. “Darrax, soves!”

Darrax gave an unhappy trill, but spread his wings and leapt back into the sky. Aelinor took a small measure of satisfaction in how many men fell to the ground in terror.

“Princess Aelinor,” Lord Stark approached. He was young, perhaps a few years older than Jace, but he spoke with a heavy voice, filled with authority. “Apologies for the rude welcome. We don’t see many princesses in these parts.” He concluded his statement with a sharp nod of the head.

“I’m sure I surprised everyone,” She said kindly. “I thank you for your intervention. And for hosting my brother, these past days.”

Lord Stark frowned. “Prince Jacaerys has been welcome company. Though I did not know to expect you as well.”

“No,” She sighed, glancing around at the many men who still lingered in the courtyard. “Is there…somewhere we could talk?”

Worry shone in Jace’s eyes, but he had the good sense to wait to express his concern. He turned to Lord Stark. “Somewhere warm. With a fire.”

“Right this way,” Lord Stark started toward the staircase where the Lord Commander still stood.

“I’m sure I must look a fright,” Aelinor gestured to the tangled knot of her braid, sure that her face was bright red from windburn. “I have flown straight from Dragonstone, but I admit I did not account for your Northern winds.”

“Very few do,” Lord Stark brushed past the Lord Commander, stepping into what appeared to be a small study. There was a roaring fire, a heavy oak table covered in papers, and a few wooden benches that looked like a welcome reprieve from the saddle.

As soon as the door had closed behind them, Jace turned and wrapped her up in his arms. She clung tightly to his waist, feeling him press his face into her neck.

“Gods, Aelinor, we thought…I don’t know what we thought.” He squeezed her with all of his strength. “I wanted to go straight to King’s Landing. So did Prince Daemon. But when we heard that you were not at the coronation we feared the worst and we did not—”

“I was not harmed,” She promised. “Just kept confined.”

“Then we are glad to hear that you escaped, Princess.” Lord Stark said, reminding them both of his presence. Aelinor was slightly surprised that Jace did not hesitate to let the man see such a personal embrace. “And that you were not treated dishonorably.”

“As am I, Lord Stark.” She smiled over Jace’s shoulder.

Jace pulled away. “But how did you escape? Why…why are you here?”

Aelinor stiffened, having nearly forgotten in her joy at seeing her brother why she had come. “Jace…I…”

“What is it?” He seemed to study her face for the first time. “Gods, Aelinor, when was the last time you rested? What is wrong?”

Aelinor swallowed. “Luc…he…he went to Storm’s End.”

“Yes,” Jace froze. “To remind Lord Boros of his oath. What of it?”

“While there he…he…” She felt emotion welling up in her throat, and choked it back down. She was a messenger, and she needed to be strong. For her family. For her brother.

So she took a deep breath before continuing. “Lord Boros had already turned traitor. He permitted Aemond to treat in his halls, apparently swore vows to Aegon, and was a false host.”

“Aelinor, I don’t understand,” Jace was shaking his head.

“Luc was murdered, Jace,” Her voice was deathly quiet.

Jace recoiled as if he had been dealt a blow. “Murdered? By the Baratheons?”

“Under their watch, or as good as.” Aelinor has spent several days seething in her resentment for Borros Baratheon, for his failure to act in good faith and protect her little brother. “But no, not by the Baratheons.”

“Then by whom?” Jace demanded, a waver in his voice. “Who has done this?”

Since the moment she had mounted Darrax, Aelinor had wondered how she was to break this news to her brother. How could she tell him something so horrible, when she had yet to come to terms with it herself. When she had been the one to trust Aemond more than any of them, when she had ignored their warnings?

“Aemond and Vhagar gave chase,” She said finally. “And Luc was killed over Shipbreaker’s Bay. They…they have not found his body.”

The sound Jace made was one of horror, something between a whimper and a choke that died in his throat. Aelinor fought to keep her expression neutral, not wishing to show weakness, not when a potential ally was in the room with them. But Jace…he needed a moment to compose himself, which meant that she needed to be strong for both of them now.

“The Baratheons have broken with the duties of a host?” Lord Stark looked aghast. “They have…this is treachery!”

“It is, Lord Stark,” Aelinor kept her voice steady. “Which is why I hope my brother has been successful in rallying you to our cause.”

“I can offer 2000 men,” Lord Stark said. “Not more, not with winter approaching.”

Would that be enough? Aelinor didn’t know enough about the ways of war to determine one way or another.

But she nodded anyway. “That is generous and greatly appreciated, My Lord.”

Jace was still unresponsive, his body trembling where he stood.

Aelinor reached out a hand and gently curled it around his wrist. “Brother, have you concluded your business here?”

He blinked slowly before responding. “Yes. I have done as our mother asked.”

“Good,” She wondered if he felt as weak as she did, like every word that left her mouth had to be forged together out of whatever meager strength was left to her. “Then we must return to her side.”

Jace nodded, turning toward Lord Stark. 

Aelinor gave a small bow. “I shall let you say your farewells. I will be outside.”

“Princess,” Lord Stark said quickly. “Do you not wish to stop and rest? It is no small journey from Dragonstone.”

Gods, did she ever. She longed to lay her head on a pillow, fill her stomach and rest without this dark cloud looming over her. But now was not the time.

“No, it is not. Which is why we have no time to delay.” Aelinor said. 

“Then we will have you resupplied,” Lord Stark said. “With enough food to last you the journey.”

To that, Aelinor acquiesced, nodding politely before excusing herself from the room. She could tell that her brother and Lord Stark had more that they wanted to say to each other, and she was anxious to be out of the small room.

She stepped back out into the frigid air, reaching a hand up and beginning to untangle her braid. Descending the steps, she could feel the cold biting through her coat and boots. Both were her usual riding clothes, not suited for long journeys nor war, and certainly not for the harsh winters of the North. 

She stopped at the bottom of the steps, leaning over the railing and taking in the courtyard. The men of the Night’s Watch milled about, more than a few casting curious glances her way. Two men were busy rebuilding the firepit that Darrax had crushed, and she felt a bit of guilt for making more work for them. But when one of the men nearly missed his foot with the ax, too distracted by his staring, she felt a little better. As Lord Stark had said, they did not often see princesses this far north. And from the wide, lingering eyes studying her from all corners of the yard, she imagined that they did not often see women either.

There was something oddly comforting about this place. So far removed from any of the court politics or the petty squabbles that seemed to consume the South. No, here in the North they worried only about the next winter and the Wall, largely unbothered by the tensions that had already torn her family apart.

Some strange part of her wished that she could stay. How nice it would be, to spend her days lounging in furs and cozying up by the fire, far away from death and bloodshed. But of course, these men did not lounge about. They worked. Hard. Everywhere in the kingdom, people had their struggles, it was only that her’s seemed to be getting the better of her.

The door opened above her, and Jace stormed down the steps, his cape whirling. 

“Are you ready?” She asked, wishing that she could reach for his hand. But she would not embarrass him in front of all these men, nor did she trust herself not to crumble and fall if she felt a modicum of comfort.

He gave a stiff nod, casting one more glance to where Cregan Stark waited at the top of the stairs.

“Come Sister, I suspect Darrax will have found Vermax outside the walls by now.”

The message was clear: We will not give in to our sorrow until we are well and truly away from these strangers.

And Aelinor couldn’t agree more.

________________________________________

Aemond had grown tired of the whispers. For days they had followed him, eyes following him from every corner of the Keep, staring in horror as he passed. Because they would never say it to his face, not the horrible things that everyone — even, he suspected, his own family — whispered behind his back.

Aemond Kinslayer.

In all his life, he had never been so irked by the gossips at court. They had always mocked him, always considered him lesser and other than they were. But some part of him had always been able to push that aside, knowing that no matter what they thought, he had Aelinor.

But he didn’t have her anymore.

No, what he had was a castle full of sycophants who blamed him for starting a war that they were powerless to stop. Even his mother, whom he had once held great respect for, seemed to blame him for tipping them over the edge into conflict, as if it had not been set in stone for years before.

He ached to be free of this place. If they were now plunged into war, then let him make war. If they all thought him a murdering monster, then set him free to do it. Instead they hid behind their walls, forbidding him from doing more than patrolling the skies around King’s Landing. He could be out there, winning them allies and destroying their enemies. He could be useful.

For the past two days he had pushed the limits of where he had been permitted to go, taking Vhagar as close to Dragonstone as he had dared. He never made it within a mile of the start of the blockade, barely able to see the shadowy outline of Dragonstone rising from the waves. Was Aelinor there? They must have told her what he had done, and she…gods, he was sure that it would have broken her. He had done that. And some part of him recognized that while he felt no guilt for ridding the world of that bastard boy, the pain of being responsible for Aelinor’s suffering was eating him alive.

Which was why he wanted to leave. To do something. Let him be the one to storm Dragonstone, to plead his case and take her back with him. Or send him to the far reaches of the kingdom, away from the temptation of having her so close, and yet blocked from him by insurmountable obstacles.

But nevertheless, patrolling on Vhagar was preferable to being in the Keep, where everyone followed his every step as if they needed to keep an eye on him. He hated it, and he hated this place.

The door to his sister’s chambers was open, and he pushed inside to find Helaena kneeling on the ground, an embroidery hoop in her hand and one of her children playing near the fire.

“Hello, Sister,” He said in greeting, ignoring the worried looks that her handmaidens exchanged. He stepped around his sister, heading for the child. Bending down to tug on a log of silver hair, he elicited a small giggle from his niece. At least she wasn’t afraid of him.

“Where’s your brother?” He asked Jaehaera, though everyone knew he was not actually expecting an answer from the small girl. She reminded him a bit of Aelinor, or what dim memories he held from when they had been small. 

“Aegon took Jaehaerys to the Small Council,” Helaena said absently. “Not too long ago.”

“Perhaps I should join them,” He stood up straight, looking down at his sister. Her fingers stabbed blindly at her embroidery, as if she was not seeing what she was doing.

“Are you quite well, Sister?” He asked, noticing that one of her fingers had already been pricked until it bled.

Helaena shook her head from side to side. “The rats. I’m frightened of the rats.”

Aemond glanced around, not noticing anything out of place. “Shall I call for the rat catcher?”

She let out a frustrated sigh, and he felt a pang of sympathy for his sister. All her life she had been different from the rest of them, and too often he had seen her withdraw into herself as the people around her failed to understand.

“No one will listen,” She muttered, sounding a bit desperate.

Aemond briefly considered what it would mean to sit with her, to ask her to take the time and explain, and he wondered if that was all she wanted. Perhaps she just needed to be listened to.

But he also wanted to get to the Small Council meeting, to see if today was the day that he would finally get to do something.

So he just reached down to set a hand on her shoulder. “All will be well, Sister.”

Helaena’s hand snapped up with shocking speed, nearly crushing the bones in his wrist. “Fire Storm is coming!” Her voice was frantic, nearly panicked.

“Fire Storm?” Aemond gently pried her fingers away. “Do you mean the war? We’re already at war, Dear Sister.”

Something like disappointment settled in Helaena’s eyes, and she turned back to her embroidery without a word.

Aemond stood, gesturing to one of her maids. “See to her hand, she’s bleeding.”

“Yes, My Prince.” They both curtsied without meeting his eyes. He gritted his teeth in irritation and stormed from the room.

The guards posted outside the Small Council chamber shifted when he entered, obviously unsure of whether or not they should stop him. He didn’t give a shit. His brother was the King, and he was the rider of Vhagar. He could go where he damn well pleased.

“Aemond!” His mother exclaimed as he climbed the steps to the table. “What is your business here?”

“The King summoned me,” He glanced at his brother, who winked lazily from his seat. Aegon had made no such summons, but he knew his brother was anxious for an ally amongst the tirades of the council. 

“You do not have a seat at the council!”

“Aemond is my blood and our best sword,” Aegon said, “I welcome him.”

Ah, to be King. No one could outright argue with him, even as he watched Tyland Lannister and his mother sink lower in their seats.

Aemond prowled around the table, casting a look at his mother. The Dowager Queen could barely look at him, shame clear on her face. She still loved Rhaenyra, and no doubt resented him for interrupting her plans for peace. Did she think that she was the only one who held love for one of the Blacks? She was no better than him, only he had acted quickly, whereas her spiders had taken years to weave their webs.

Still, he was here to be useful. “The path to the King’s Landing is through the Riverlands,” He moved toward the map. “We must establish a toehold there, here, at Harrenhal.”

Aegon clasped his hands together in satisfaction. “The Riverlords will either declare for me, or meet Vhagar and Sunfyre together Ah, and we can burn the blockade while we’re at it.”

Perhaps overly simplistic, but Aegon’s words echoed what Aemond longed for. Action.

“Rhaenyra has dragons as well,” Alicent reminded.

“Mine are bigger,” Aegon retorted. 

“If we lose the dragons to war, there will be no calling them back. We must proceed cautiously.”

“While we guard our skies the Blacks are flying across the realm, using their dragons to muster support for Rhaenyra,” Aemond protested. “Should we not be doing the same?”

“I think your actions at Storm’s End have made it clear that questioning the King’s authority is unwise,” Tyland Lannister said.

“If Luc was acting the messenger, we must assume Jacaerys is as well,” Aemond argued.

“And my letters to the Vale and the North continue to go unanswered.” Otto added, at least in partial agreement with what Aemond was saying.

“Let us not forget,” Alicent sat straight in her chair, leveling her eyes at Aemond. “That if Jacaerys has taken flight, we must assume Aelinor has as well.”

Aemond scoffed. “Aelinor is not a warrior. Her mother would never send her from her side.”

“You don’t know that!” Alicent cried. 

“We must keep our heads,” Otto spoke, his frustratingly calm voice making Aemond long to throw something at him. “Despite our King’s optimism, things are not as one-sided as we believe.”

“The Blacks have more dragons,” Criston Cole said. “Many more.”

“And ours…”Aegon’s patience was clearly being tested. “Are bigger.”

“No,” Otto said. “Vhagar is bigger. The Princess Aelinor rides Darrax, who was, at last reports, as large as Vermithor. She is not to be discounted.”

“Aelinor will not fly to war!” Aemond slammed his fist down on the table. “She is too…gentle for it.”

“The most gentle souls can be driven to commit horrible deeds in times of war,” Otto folded his hands together. “As gentle as Aelinor might be, she will have Prince Daemon in her ear, reminding her that she commands one of the Blacks greatest weapons.”

“And,” Aegon added, a smirk on his face. “You did kill her brother.”

Aemond just shook his head. They were fools, the lot of them. They did not know Lina, not the way he did. She would not fly to war, and he would be surprised if she commanded the strength to even rise from her bed. In spite of Aemond’s wishes, she had always loved Lucerys, and would mourn him fiercely. She had never been trained, never lifted a sword, he suspected she had never even flown far enough to sea to lose sight of Dragonstone. No, she was not the weapon that they were imagining.

“If only we had been able to keep Princess Aelinor in our grasp,” Alicent sighed. “Perhaps even turned her.”

Aegon clicked his tongue. “I expect her loyalties would have slipped away the moment Aemond bedded the Baratheon girl.”

“I did not bed the Baratheon girl.” Aemond snapped. “And I have made it clear that I have no intention of following through with that betrothal.”

Aegon just waved dismissively. “How did little Aelinor escape, anyway?”

Aemond stayed quiet. No one seemed to have yet put it together that Vhagar had landed that night a full hour before he had reported to his mother. In that time he had managed to bride a dragonkeeper, fetch Aelinor and take her to Darrax. If he had it his way, no one would ever know that he had done it. He was not even sure why he had done it. 

“It is of no consequence,” Lord Otto said. “More houses will declare for you by the hour, and with history and precedence on your side, no one will be able to question your claim, Your Highness.”

Aegon smiled in satisfaction. “I still think we should loose Vhagar on them.”

“It is not necessary,” Lord Otto assured. “We must be patient.”

Aegon and Aemond exchanged a look. Patience had never suited either of them.

________________________________________

Aelinor had lost track of how long they had flown when Jace finally guided Vermax into a field. There was still a slight chill in the air, yet the grass was not covered with frost nor snow, indicating that they had made good progress south. They were flying fast, with Aelinor allowed Jace and Vermax to set the pace, knowing that Darrax would quickly outpace them if it was up to him.

Darrax tipped his shoulder, allowing her to slide to the ground. Her boots landed in the soft earth, and she turned for the saddle bag, removing a small wrapped package of bread and salted meat that Lord Cregan had been kind enough to offer them.

Once she had her meal in hand, she clicked her tongue, freeing Darrax to wander toward the stream on the north side of the field. Vermax followed after him, both of their tails cutting a deep swathe in the ankle-high grass.

Jace was standing in the same spot where he had dismounted, his hands fisted in his cloak. They had not spoken, not truly, about what had happened, and it was a conversation that Aelinor was dreading.

She walked over, holding out the loaf of bread. “You need to eat, Jace.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I can.”

“You must,” She grabbed his hand, setting the bread in his palm. “We have a long way yet to go, and I can’t have you falling out of your saddle.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Jace gave a sharp intake of breath, his face paling. Aelinor felt her own heart clench. “Sorry. That was…that was not kind.”

“You meant nothing by it,” Jace shook his head. “And it is I who should apologize. I feel as though…as though my mind is in a fog. I don’t quite know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Don’t apologize,” Aelinor said quietly. “I have had days to come to terms with this. You have only just learned. You are allowed to be in shock.”

But Jace was shaking his head. “I should be asking after you. We thought you might be dead, Aelinor, or in a cell somewhere.”

“No,” Aelinor frowned. “Well, briefly, in the chaos after the King’s death. But then I was just confined to my chambers.”

“But you were treated well?” He demanded. “You were not harmed?”

“Not in any way that matters,” She promised, looking at the ground. “I am more…embarrassed, I suppose, rather than anything else.”

“Whatever do you have to be embarrassed about?” Jace took a bite of the bread.

Aelinor sighed. “My own blindness, I suppose. That I trusted Aemond, even when everyone warned me not to. And now Luc has paid the prices.”

“That is not your fault.” Jace stepped forward, squeezing her hand in his. “Do you understand me? You are not responsible for Aemond’s actions. Or Luc’s. Aemond has betrayed you. He has betrayed your trust and your love, which we all know now that he never deserved.”

Aelinor just bit her lip, biting back tears. She never could have imagined a world in which she would miss Jace’s company, in which his words could bring comfort, but she realized now that she had been longing for it. 

“Aelinor, did he…” Jace stopped talking, looking up toward the sky.

“Did he what?” Aelinor asked.

Jace turned back to her, grinding his jaw in apparent anger. “Did he touch you?”

It took her a moment to realize what he was asking. Because of course, yes, Aemond had touched her. They had kissed and held hands and danced more times than she could count. But that was not what Jace was asking. He was asking if Aemond had raped her.

“No,” She said honestly. “I have never lain with Aemond. Not….not in any way.” Not by her choice or without it.

He blew out a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods.”

Aelinor felt tears welling up in her eyes, and suddenly lunged forward to wrap him in her arms. Jace caught her about the waist, the bread still clasped in his hand. “I missed you, big brother.”

“And I missed you too,” He squeezed her tightly. 

Aelinor held him a moment longer, before pulling away and punching him in the arm. “Now that we’re done with that, we need to go. Mother needs us at her side.”

Jace broke off a piece of bread while she halved the meat. “Let us get a drink first, and then eat while we fly.”

Aelinor nodded, taking a bite of the salted meat. It tasted dry and unfamiliar, but she was thankful to have something filling her stomach. They had a long journey to go, and yet already she was missing the quiet of the north.

________________________________________

Aemond had found an unlikely companion in Ser Criston Cole, and he had yet to decide whether that was a good or ill thing.

On one hand, Ser Criston seemed to share his desire for action, rightly assuming that Vhagar should be leading their efforts in this war. He sat in Aegon’s chambes, assisting him in laying out a plan for this war, one that might guarantee them a swift victory instead of this incessant waiting.

“It is a canny scheme,” Aemond noted, gesturing to the coins on the table. “But moot. But brother is hostage to my mother and grandsire, and they tell him that a war of dragons can still be avoided.”

“It is inevitable, they must see that.” Ser Criston shook his head. Aemond wondered when the Commander of the Kingsguard had grown so relaxed, to sit here and voice his dissent, not even wearing his armor or cloak.

Aemond shrugged. “Otto fears to upset the order of things, and my mother…my mother is simply angry.”

“Angry?” Ser Criston asked.

“She blames me for starting the war after she plotted to usurp my father’s throne.” In truth, Aemond thought that that was only half the reason for his mother’s fury. She still held love for Rhaenyra, and he wondered if she felt that he had undermined her by eliminating Lucerys. But she was a hypocrite, for had she not spent the better part of his life spreading rumors regarding Rhaenyra’s children? She had not even spared Aelinor from her barbed tongue, no matter how much she knew Aemond cared for her.

Ser Criston was still talking. “...intoxicated her. It is not your mother’s fault.” He said it as though it was shared in confidence, as if they were equals lamenting over their frustrations. But Aemond was not Ser Criston’s equal, and it irked him to hear him cast judgment on his family, no matter how much he might agree.

“The Queen holds love for our enemy.” Aemond admitted.

“That makes her a fool,” Ser Criston spat.

Aemond stiffened slightly, feeling that the barb was aimed at him, though he was sure Ser Criston had neither the wit nor the courage to actually insult him to his face. But it was true, at least to a certain extent. No matter how much Aemond itched for war, he dreaded it too. He might dismiss that fear as a sign of weakness, but it ate at him.

Despite what he had said to the Small Council, and the fact that he knew Aelinor did not have a fighting bone in her body, he did not know what her family might be able to drag her into. She was not a soldier, but she loved her family deeply. And if they convinced her to join the fight, if he found himself across from her on the field, he did not know what he would do.

He did not look up from the table as his grandfather entered the chamber and dismissed Ser Criston. 

“It would concern me, grandson, if plans were being made beyond the ear of your King and his Hand.” 

Aemond’s lips pulled into a small smile. “I only wish to serve my King and my house.”

“Are you certain of that, grandson?” Otto tilted his head.

He kept his face a mask of indifference. “I cannot know what you mean.”

“Only that…” Otto reached forward to clasp the back of a chair. “Through no fault of your own, it would not be a surprise if you felt lingering loyalty to Princess Aelinor. You were, of course, betrothed.”

“Yes, but we are not any longer.” Aemond felt a stab of guilt deep in his gut. It was his damn grandfather’s fault that Aelinor was gone, it was he that had sent him to Storm’s End in the first place, and had him agree to that damned betrothal.

“You say you want to serve your house,” Otto continued. “And I only seek to remind you to uphold your true family, rather than those who have turned traitor.”

Aelinor was the furthest thing from a traitor in the world.

“A shame she slipped out from under us,” Otto mused. “And you did not see her, when you returned to King’s Landing. She must have taken to the skies only moments before you arrived.”

Aemond pressed his lips together. “I saw nothing.”

“Hm,” He could not read the expression on his grandfather’s face, and it unsettled him. “Well, be that as it may, I promise you, Aemond, you will have all the vengeance you seek.”

What did he seek vengeance for now? The one who had cut his eye from his head was dead, lost to the sea. Did Aemond truly wish for vengeance against his half-sister, or against Jacaerys for trying to come between him and Aelinor? There was hardly a point to it now, when he doubted he could win Lina back by defeating her family.

“You must keep a grip on your impulses,” Otto turned to leave. “We both know that your brother cannot.”

Aemond thought then, not for the first time, that Otto Hightower, and perhaps his mother too, were dismissing Aegon more than they should. His brother may be a fool, but he was not an idiot. And as Otto had said, Aemond must be loyal to his family.

____________________________________

Aelinor took a deep breath before opening the door to her mother’s study, giving Jace and Baela a moment before they would face the Queen.

Rhaenyra was seated on one of the chaises, staring blankly ahead. Her posture seemed slightly slumped, and Aelinor had to clear her throat to get her attention. When her mother turned, she saw dark circles framing her eyes, the same sorrow painted on her mother’s face that Aelinor felt deep in her very soul.

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak, but Aelinor beat her to it. “I have delivered my brother from the North, mother. Jacaerys is well, and will be in to give you his report in a moment.”

Rhaenyra swallowed, nodding slowly.

Aelinor continued. “I shall retire now. If you have need of me, you must only call.”

And then, for the first time in her life, Aelinor dropped into a deep bow, paying her mother the respect she was due.

Before her emotions could catch up with her, she turned and walked quickly from the room. Jace was there, Baela at his side with her hand on his back.

“Are you well, Cousin?” Baela asked kindly.

Aelinor gave a quick nod. “She’s ready for you.”

“Don’t you wish to…” Jace gestured back into the room.

Aelinor bit her lip and shook her head. “Forgive me, Brother, but I find myself in need of a bath. And rest.”

Jace didn’t argue, and she was grateful for it. With another nod to both of them, she started down the hall, heading towards her chambers. Dragonstone was nearly empty, most of its inhabitants busy working to fortify the blockade or prepare for an imminent invasion. Aelinor should be helping them, but she knew she was no good to anyone in this condition.

A figure in a dark cloak nearly crashed into her, and it took far too long for her exhaustion-clouded mind to realize that it was her father.

“Prin—Father,” She corrected herself. “What are you doing?”

Prince Daemon lifted a hand and pushed back the hood of his cloak. He too had dark circles under his eyes, and while she did not doubt that he grieved for Luc, she doubted that it was sorrow that had driven him from sleep.

“I am walking,” He said unhelpfully, looking her up and down. “I saw that you had returned.”

“With Jacaerys,” She nodded. “He has been successful in the North.”

“And you were successful in retrieving him,” Daemon said. “That was not an easy journey.”

It hadn’t been. Flying nonstop through the wind and the rain and the snow had battered her body to a point she had not thought possible. But still she stood, and stronger for it.

She glanced down, spotting the mud that dotted his boots. “You’ve been to the beach. Have you been somewhere?”

She could not decipher the look in his eyes. “Yes. King’s Landing, as a matter of fact.”

A chill ran down her spine. “Oh?”

He nodded.

“And what…” She swallowed. “What were you doing there? Did my mother know?”

“I was acting on her orders,” Daemon said. “Exacting her vengeance.”

Aelinor felt ill, but she kept herself steady as she nodded. “Ah. Well then, I’ll let you be on your way. I find myself in need of rest.”

She excused herself, using all of her restraint to keep from running down the corridor. She needed to be behind closed doors before she let herself give in.

“Daughter?” Her father called.

She turned on her heel, an expression she had never seen on her father’s face. “Yes?”

Daemon nodded. “You have done well.”

“I only did what was expected of me.” She dismissed, walking away before he could say anything else.

Stones were settling in the bit of her stomach, with every breath she could see the mud on Daemon’s boots, could imagine him moving through King’s Landing, exacting the Queen’s vengeance.

That could only mean one thing. And Aelinor hated herself then, because the thought of Aemond…the thought of him being…No, she could not even think it. 

She was going to be sick.

[britcision]

Hey, you know what turned out to be super a lot of fun? Writing Mithrun from other peoples’ perspectives.

You know what else is a huge amount of fun? Badass evil ladies 👀 I fucking love Cithis she’s the worst

Will be posting this and other lil ficlets over on AO3! Link is at the bottom, I’m just… drastically failing at “short” so far 😅

(I just have a lot of feelings okay?)

Warnings: some mild dehumanization, because this is Cithis’ POV, and Cithis doesn’t think of others as people

Summary: Dramatic gestures are all well and good, but four in the morning is another matter entirely. Mithrun’s used to one particular person tending to his needs; unfortunately, Cithis values her sleep.

Maybe not quite as much as a chance to finally mess with her captain though. Budding Kabumisu

—————————

After Dinner Mints - Afterthoughts

“Cithis.”

Brows furrowing in irritation, Cithis rolled over, tugging the absolutely tragic excuse for a blanket that the Canaries allowed around her tighter and burrowed in.

“Cithis.”

Her name, again, and she considered folding the pillow over her ears, still hazy with sleep.

“Cithis.”

She was going to kill Fleki. Maybe make Lycion do it. Or Otta, or anyone really, honestly, she just wanted to sleep…

“Cithis.”

But the captain would just stand there all night, saying her name in that damn monotone. Probably had been for a while, before it woke her up. Honestly, she counted herself lucky when he respected her request not to just shake her.

It was inconsiderate, honestly. He’d have to have passed all three of the others to reach her, and casting spells always woke her up. It ruined her chances of getting back to sleep, where as Fleki could pop off any number of minor spells and, as Cithis was painfully aware, be snoring again in moments.

“Cithis.”

Yes, this was Fleki’s fault. And Cithis’s rest would be avenged.

Stifling a sigh, she reached for her bells and rolled over, not surprised to see the captain’s shadowy figure looming over her cot. The soft smile came to her lips without effort; that part had always been easy.

“Do you need another sleeping spell, Captain? Lie down now,” she only half asked, the chant already spilling out before her.

Honestly, she didn’t care if he dropped where he stood. So long as he didn’t fall on her.

“No.”

The magic died before it could form, and Cithis bit back a sharp hiss of irritation.

She hated that limitation, the shackle around her power that put her at the beck and call of these pathetic little wardens. The ones not loved enough by their wealthy and powerful families to keep them from a life of pain and drudgery.

And they still dared think they were better than her. When they hadn’t even earned their place.

Resigning herself to whatever the hell the captain wanted now, she forced herself to sit up, and give him her best “obedient servant” smile. Well, the best she could manage at this ungodly hour.

It wasn’t like the captain cared.

“What, then, Captain?” She asked, taking the time to actually look at him.

He looked… her brows dipped down again, frown crumpling the smile almost at once.

He looked… bad. Captain Mithrun usually did, especially on the days where she or Lycion couldn’t be bothered to make him presentable. But even dishevelled, exhausted, covered in blood, she’d never seen him look like this. It set her on edge.

And it gradually dawned on her that even though by his standards Mithrun was practically well dressed in a sleeping tunic and absolutely no filth… he looked worried.

She’d never seen him worry before.

The petulant pouting, that was nothing new, and frankly quite adorable. Annoyed, bored, satisfied, apathetic, she’d seen a lot on what most insisted was a blank face because they couldn’t be bothered to actually look.

But never this, uncertainty, worry, perhaps even fear writ large on his features and in the twisting of the tunic between his hands.

That couldn’t possibly bode well for her.

Setting her legs off the side of the cot to make a space, she pointed to it firmly, letting a little more command slip into her tone. A soft voice often worked for Mithrun, but when he was recalcitrant sometimes he needed authority.

“Sit.”

He folded immediately, dropping gracelessly to sit beside her on the creaky little cot. He didn’t seem to be injured at least, although he rarely bothered acknowledging it if he was. Better to be sure.

“Do you need a healing spell?” She asked, not bothering to prepare the magic this time. If he did, he could wait. If he didn’t, the less she had to deal with the damn leash the better.

The Captain shook his head, hesitated, and then… sunk in on himself.

Also not good.

Reaching out, Cithis gripped his chin firmly and turned his head to face her.

He looked lost, and while he was usually unfocused if they weren’t on a mission, it was never with this much vulnerability. And while she’d once thought she’d like to see that from him, see him actually begin to care about something, it was unsettling.

Not least because she couldn’t imagine what had caused it.

Humming a short note, she released him and nodded.

“Tell me what you need, Captain,” she urged him gently.

Captain Mithrun opened his mouth. Closed it again. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she’d need to enchant him just to get a fucking answer, he sucked in a sharp breath and spoke.

“I don’t feel anything.”

Taking a breath, Cithis consciously smoothed her frown away this time. Impatience had never moved the captain before, except to raise his own. And she just plain didn’t have the patience to deal with that right now.

“And that’s a problem?” It had never been before, so she was expecting maybe a sharp look, and then some more information.

She wasn’t expecting him to turn to her, his eye wide and empty.

“Yes. I…” he hesitated, looking out past her and to the rest of the tent. Cithis waited about as patiently as she felt capable of for him to find the thought.

Or give up and let her knock him out again.

“I don’t… you said there would be new desires. But there haven’t been in forty years. It takes… so much to keep moving. To eat, to sleep, and I don’t feel anything. I don’t even want to. I don’t even want to lie down and die. There’s just nothing.” He sounded almost calm, with the same lack of inflection, except… he actually sounded tired.

Another new not-improvement.

Cithis was surprised to find she was actually almost sad. In as much as she felt anything for anyone, she rather liked the captain.

He was certainly the best warden she’d ever had, even if she couldn’t just twist him to her needs and leave. Most of the spoiled rich brats the Canaries were saddled with made her sick; born into money and privilege, half of them having the first cold meal of their lives with the force.

Mithrun was… well, at the very least always entertaining, even if it wasn’t the kind of entertainment she preferred. You couldn’t humiliate someone who didn’t feel shame, and she’d only ever had one whim he hadn’t indulged, even though he’d apparently been able to resist any of them at any time.

He was… a broken, damaged thing. Usually Cithis very much enjoyed the act of breaking things herself, but she did know how to take care of what belonged to her.

Captain Mithrun had been given to her, body and soul, and while he wasn’t fit to be a proper plaything he was still very useful. Seeing him fall apart had hurt her more than she’d admit even to herself.

Or maybe it was just knowing that she hadn’t been the one to cause it, or been able to do a damn thing about it. She hated other people taking her things.

She hadn’t been able to pull him out of it, either; hadn’t been able to think of a way to try. Not before that little… ah.

Cithis had always had a gift for spotting a person’s weakness.

Reaching out, she covered the hands still twisting through his sleeping tunic to still them. The question was, if he even knew it.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I don’t see where this is different,” she said carefully, keeping her voice light. By all accounts, the captain couldn’t read other people for shit to spot a lie on his own, but why take the risk? “What has changed to make this a problem?”

And if she was just a little relieved to see a far more familiar look of annoyance flash across his face, he didn’t need to know that either.

“There is nothing I want now. The demon is gone, and I’m not,” he said sharply, and she didn’t bother curbing her smile.

“That was true two days ago, Captain. Yet you got up. What has changed?” She repeated a little more firmly, searching his face intently for any kind of recognition.

Sullenness pulled across his features and he slumped back, folding his arms across his chest.

“Nothing. That is the problem.”

Hiding from her? He’d never hidden before.

Maybe there was something good at the root of this after all, if the captain was going to become more… interesting. She’d not had a new plaything of her own since she’d been given him, or more accurately since she’d realized just how little he actually cared for himself.

And if this surge of passion turned out to be the temporary reprieve and he sank back into motionless, well, she’d just have to enjoy him while she could.

Of course, just giving him the answers wouldn’t be nearly as fun.

Her tiredness wasn’t even feigned as she sighed, slotting her legs back onto the cot behind him and lying down again.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m afraid I’m just not sure what you want. Perhaps I’m just too tired… shall we talk more in the morning? When you’ve had more time to gather your thoughts?” She asked sweetly, and yes, there was that irritation again.

That little flash of petulance that only the proximity of a dungeon had dragged out of him before. Honestly, him even taking the initiative to come find her at all was beginning to look like part of a lovely new pattern.

Maybe there was a new desire already forming… at least the desire to have a desire, which she supposed would be a new feeling to almost anyone. Yes, this next part was going to be very entertaining.

A fun little thought occurred to her, and she held the blanket open for him.

“Why don’t you sleep here, Captain? I can cast you another sleeping spell, and then if things are clearer in the morning you can tell me immediately,” she offered with her most innocent, sunny smile.

And if she cast a strong enough spell, he would certainly be asleep past the time his little tallman would come looking for him. And she’d have a lovely front row seat for the show.

The look Captain Mithrun gave her was… honestly, as sceptical as it always was when she put in the effort to be charming with him. He wasn’t a stupid little thing, just incredibly unbothered.

“I don’t always need sleeping spells,” he grumbled to himself, and oh Cithis knew this was going to be fun. He’d never cared about the method of his sleep before.

Still, he obediently lay down beside her, tucked in on his side until they were touching from shoulder to ankles to both fit on the narrow cot. Cithis considered curling a leg around his waist, both for her own comfort and to see what his… Kabru would do.

That could wait for morning.

She did wrap the arm holding her staff around him though, partially for easier spell casting and partially so neither of them fell off the cot. A rare moment of mercy moved her, and she let her lips press gently against the back of his head for a moment, her voice low.

“After all, Captain… tallmen hardly live for any time at all. Even if you never have another desire for as long as he lives, that isn’t so long to wait.”

The captain stiffened in her arms, but didn’t stop her from murmuring the incantantion this time, and with a gentle jingle of her bells he slumped back into sleep.

Making a mental note to find out just how old Kabru was (and how long tallmen actually did live anyway), Cithis settled down and relaxed as much as she could, waiting to join him.

Casting spells always did wake her up, but at least now she had something interesting to occupy her while she settled.

Perhaps Fleki had had a point, and it might be worth being released on the captain’s recognizance, even if he was planning to stay in this backwater country. After all, she was his caretaker. And she’d need a front row seat to whatever disaster Captain Mithrun’s attempts at flirtation were going to be.

She’d have to make sure that Fleki was also released to stay with them, of course. That would be the start of a fitting punishment for her lost sleep.

—————

Watch this space or follow me home via

[faceless-creature]

Can you make a frollo x angel reader, I loved the demon one, so I thought you could do an angel one

Absolutely I can! Although I already have one, it's at the bottom of my page.

Also you never specified about gender so: male

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claude Frollo x M!Angel!Reader

Tiny white specks floated with grace to the ground, bending in the wind. Snowing. It was very common for it to snow in Paris during winters like this...

But this time was different...

There was no sign that it would've started snowing today. No cloud, heavy wind or hint... It wasn't even particularly cold... It just started..

However, there was a reason.

A man in a pure white three piece suit with golden buttons walked slowly along a cobbled road.

A golden cross pinned to the collar of his suit flashed in the glimmering sun.

He walked with his eyes closed, yet walked as if he'd lived in Paris all his life. Avoiding walls, uneven pieces of the road, carriages and horses, and even people..

But he was new.

No one in Paris knew him yet... He felt as though you'd known him for years. He was a complete stranger but felt like a friend..

He walked straight into the main courtyard, and finally opened his eyes.. They were a gorgeous golden hue.

His gaze was fixed upon the festival being set up in the centre of the courtyard. Admiring the colours as it softly snowed.

A small smile cracked his face, he'd like to participate..

And so he searched for someone who would allow him to join the beautiful festivities.

And he did.

A kind man who went by the name of Clopin, greeted him enthusiastically, his jester hat bells chiming as he went along.

The beautiful man was integrated into the festival, he'd dance a traditional dance of his people in the traditional outfit it's performed in.

Just as the festival started the snow stopped, but something in the air changed. It felt charged with power.

Everyone could feel it.

Especially the old Judge.

Claude Frollo, a closed off, cruel and snarky individual, was sat in a little private booth just off of the stage.

He'd truly rather be anywhere but here, but as a public official he had to be...

Yet he felt different about today, almost giddy. And he had no idea why.

Soon enough it's the mysterious man's turn to perform..

"And now, please welcome our new friend from up north, Mr. Y/N L/N!" Clopin cheered as he introduced him.

The curtains covering Y/N dropped, and with them, everyone's jaws.

Standing before them was the man they'd seen, but now he has three pairs of great big fluttering feathered wings.

He wore an outfit quite feminine, yet fit his masculine frame perfectly.

He wore a pure white dress which had large holes in the hips, covered with three small golden chains with gold cross charms.

His ankles shown at the bottom.

The dress had practically no back for his wings to be comfortable. The sleeves were loose off-the-shoulder short white with golden flares.

A see-through golden silk floor-length jacket sits off his shoulders at his elbows, and just beneath his top wing joint.

He was covered in gold jewellery, from necklaces to rings and ankle bracelets.

He was completely barefoot.

The snow started up again, but this time only around him, then he started to dance.

The way he moved was both angelic and scandalous. He clearly enjoyed the attention from both genders.

He swayed his hips as he sauntered over to Judge, pulling him from his makeshift throne and pulling him to the stage.

Frollo gave no fight. He was completely enthralled by the angel and all too eager to dance with him.

And so the two danced as if no one was watching.

Well Y/N danced, Frollo was just guided. He gave no care to when he was placed in scandalous positions upon the tall male's body, he simply bent to the desire of the angel.

At the finale of the dance, Y/N took Claude by the waist and dipped him low, his back arching to the angels taste.

His wings spread out, his top ones pointed towards the heavens, his middles pointed outward and him bottom ones pointed down as he stood up straight.

The crowd cheered, but the two men gave no indication of paying attention.

"Found you... Little mate..." Y/N whispers in Claudes ear.

He came to Paris for a reason. To find his soulmate. Every Seraphim is given a soulmate. A thanks from the lord for standing by it from the beginning of creation.

And for centuries Y/N had been searching, and he finally found his special human... And he'd be damned if he allowed him to continue sinning...

Within a day of meeting Y/N Frollo changed how he acted as a judge. He was kinder, stopped prosecuting death penalties.

He left the Romani people alone..

Within a year Frollo stepped down as Judge and ran away to the countryside with his lover..

He'd never been so happy and full of love before..

And his darling seraphim was extremely good at satisfying him, both in and out of the bedroom..

Eventually, like all humans, Claude drew his last breath. But Y/N shed no tears.. instead he snatched his soul and placed it within his locket.

He watched as Claude's physical body turned to ash as his soul is claimed by the seraphim, ready to ascend with his lover.

Y/N took off upwards into the sky and into a portal, disappearing into heaven.

He flew straight to the seraphim's soulmate claiming pool. The pink water eagerly took Claudes soul once it was offered by Y/N.

Y/N stripped down and slipped into the water, waiting for his love to surface with a new body.

Soon enough, Claude did just that.. his new body was delivered straight to Y/N by the pool.

He was younger now, with beautiful long silver hair, smooth skin and gold tinted white wings.

Claude's eyes opened up and gazed up at his darling seraphim..

As part of the claiming ritual, seraphim's must make love to their partners within contact with the water.

Every other seraphim took a bowl of the pool's water and completed the ritual on the dry pale pink tiles...

However, as Y/N was the very last on to find their mate, and everyone has their own pool now he decided to claim Claude within the pool.

Besides, the lord had said that once he claimed his mate the pool would be his property after finding his mate as a gift.. He is the eldest seraphim after all...

If he had found his mate first, the lord said it would create another for the other seraphims..

Claude settled into heaven nicely, especially since Y/N was told by the lord directly that he could retire, as apology for accidentally making it's first creation wait so long for eternal bliss.

The two settled into their new lives perfectly.. and nothing could shake their happiness.

[yiiyiiwrites]

The Punch [2]

[Summary/masterlist][part one]

Note: JJ Maybank going head to head with you in a sparring session. 2423 words

Five days had passed since your first run in with JJ. You hadn’t seen him since, the late nights at the gym reserved only for you. If he was smart he’d probably be training in the day so that you couldn’t find his weaknesses or sloppy routine when it came to fighting.

There was no weigh in or rap sheet for you to study. The lack of research or knowledge pushing you to run longer each morning and eat cleaner each day. Your muscles groaned each night as you laid in bed, you never thought you’d miss the ice baths you used to take weekly but you did.

As Friday comes by, you find yourself digging through your duffle bag. The pill container no longer rattling with pain killers. You chuck it across your room, wincing at the tight pull across your shoulder. Cradling the sore spot, you close your eyes and breathe in deep trying to manage the pain.

The house was buzzing with talk as you step out of your room and into the kitchen. Your grandmother chatting animatedly to your mother, both wearing matching aprons as they prepared a late dinner. Reggie nowhere to be seen, his presence missing every Friday till he shows up on Sunday. Nothing out of the ordinary at the Arnold household.

As you pass the kitchen table your grandmother reaches out to smooth a hand on your back. The action making you relax, a smile tugging your lips. You bid them goodbye, but you’re yanked back by the strap of your bag.

“Where are you off to?”

You turn around, gaze falling on your mother. The past few weeks had not been kind to her, dark rims hung under eyes and frown lines settling on her forehead. She was always tired, but her voice was never raised. A big contrast to your father.

“Just going to hang with some friends.” It’s almost too easy to lie, but your mother plucks the white curl of bandages tumbling from your bag. The zipper broken and not concealing the gloves either. You spin the duffel round behind you, fingers wrapping around the strap by your hip. You ignore the weight across your shoulder and the burn as you move.

There’s a beat of silence, the idle hum of your grandmother stopping as she watches the two of you. Your mother bundling and twisting the bandages in her hand, she’s too focussed on the implications of you fighting again. You’d barely made it out of the last championship with a medal. She’s seen the way your body aches and how your concentration lacks in everyday life.

What she can’t stand is you putting yourself in that position, never understood why you’d want to take a punch. Maybe you were just used it, something you learnt to take. It doesn’t make it any easier for her. She’d lost count the amount of times she’d begged her husband to give you a break, to not do too many fights so that you could rest, heal. So that you could be a regular teen.

The whistling kettle on the stove jolts her out of her thoughts and she sighs giving you the ribbon of material in your outstretched hand.

“It’s nothing serious Ma,” you say, but it’s only to make her feel better. You and her know that you’re lying. She closes your hand in hers and squeezes it, head nodding for you to go.

You’d like to say that you were more like your mother, but that’s not the case. You wish that you could see the world like her, care for people instead of pushing them away or worse lashing out. It’s how your hardwired, so you know it’s going to take another seventeen years to reprogram all that shit.

The walk to the gym led you astray from the many thoughts clouding your mind. Sun dipping down beyond the horizon, cool breeze carrying you along the side of the road.

As the club came into view, a group of guys exited the front door. You pulled the hood of your thin jacket to cover your face, but your uncle Reggie's voice had you jumping into the alley. Pressing your back against the wall and dropping your head down, you eyed the group as they swapped wads of cash between them.

The shady alley does enough to keep you out of sight, your gaze following your uncle get into a truck with a guy you'd never seen before. Silver tooth sparkling as he smiles out the window to another stranger. You wait in the shadows, stepping out as soon as the truck is out of view and turned the street corner.

You push the door open, the splintered panel still nailed where the glass pane used to be. Discarded shatters still littering the concrete outside, you make sure not to tread on any as you step over the threshold.

Wading through the dingy room, punching bags sway from the rafters. The low lighting around the main floor does little to announce JJ of your arrival.

You on the other-hand, have a front row view of JJ Maybank in all his glory. He's centerstage in the ring, muscles shifting along his back as he warms up. He's light on his feet, footwork almost like he's dancing.

"Can I help you?" His voice echoes through the room, arms dropping to his side before he turns to catch your blatant stare. There's a smirk playing on his lips, his arms resting on the rope as he stares down to you.

You change into your fighting shoes ignoring him. You shred your hoody and grab the hand wraps and boxing gloves from your duffle.

The wooden steps up to the ring creak as you climb them, head ducking to squeeze through the ropes. You stumble into the ring dropping your gloves with a thud.

JJ's circling the worn out platform, gaze flitting to you as you attempt to wrap your own hands in a hurry. He nudges his head towards the stool in the corner, catching the ribbon of white to tug you towards him. You don't decline his offer, knowing full well that it would only unravel inside your glove if you did it alone and in a rush.

His brow furrows as he focuses on his task, gentle feathery touches when he brushes the back of your hand. You don't say anything savouring the silence or more trying to get in that headspace of being a fighter. Either one of you would go down, you hoping it'd be him and not you.

"All done." JJ nods his head and inspects his handywork.

"Not bad Maybank. Here I was thinking you'd do a crap job to put me off my game." The snipes and trash talk are normal before a fight, you're used to swapping insults with whoever you fight or train with. But with the frown on JJ's face, it seem's like he's not much of a talker before a match.

You watch him scoop his gloves up and slip his hand in one. "Shirt, Maybank. You need to wear a shirt." As much as he was a sight to look at, you didn't want to be sticking to him too.

"Too distracting?" His brow quirks, dimples settling in his cheeks as he smiles to you. The flirting tactics would not be enough to put you off your game.

"Funny," you scoff, chucking him his t-shirt. His muscles tense as he pulls it over his head, you don't miss the faded bruises on his ribs, part of you trying to remember the best places to hit.

The harsh spotlight makes you squint, the boy across the ring from you bouncing on his spot and clapping his boxing gloves together. As JJ moved towards you his demeanour changed, smile slipping away and jaw tightening as he concentrated.

"Come on Champ."

You trade punches, he's swift and a lot more stable than you'd thought he be. Both of you get a few jabs before you retreat, hands raised to your centre ready to lift or drop to defend.

JJ backs you into a corner, arms caging you in. "Too close?" He whispers in your ear, but you jab him in the ribs and shove him away. Low blow you know, but he let his guard down. Of course you'd take it.

He shakes his head and laughs, knowing full well that you didn't direct all of your strength into the hit. You dodge his attacks, the stray strand of your hair whipping with the force of his glove that you narrowly just missed.

Where he'd stepped forward to throw his punch he left himself open, you took your chance and punched his jaw sending him stumbling back a few steps.

"Come on, Champ." JJ pressed his glove to his jaw. "Not the face." He shrugged it off, feet shuffling as he made the most of the area of the ring. He was ill equipped, battered shoes that you couldn't even run in and peeling leather gloves, but he made the best with what he had. You couldn't blame his lack of gear, his skill and judgement alone gave him everything he needed.

You land a few more punches, JJ returning the favour. When you thought you had the upper-hand, he'd swoop in and catch you off guard. You don't know how long you've been at it, just the two of you swapping insult back and forth to catch the other one out.

The sweat drips from your forehead, eyes stinging as you wipe it from your blurry vision. There's a dull numbing stab dancing over your shoulder blade with each punch, you suck in a breath hoping JJ doesn't catch on to your weakness. You daren't roll the tension or touch the spot in case you give it away.

It takes a while for you to register the hit, your back slamming to the floor. You scream in pain, it spreads like wildfire and the hand on your shoulder feels like its burning. Eye's heavy, black clouding your head you try to control your breathes and calm your racing heart.

"Shit, fuck. Hey are you with me?" JJ's voice is soft as well as his touch, palm tapping your cheek for you to stay awake and not pass out. "Marlowes."

You stay down for a few minutes, eyes squinting up at JJ who's form shields you from the glaring spotlight. He helps you sit, his head ducking to try and catch your gaze. His gloves are discarded over the other side of the ring, bandages unraveling from his sweaty hands, one hand still cradling your shoulder as if you'll fall back again.

"Sorry." You peel his hand off your shoulder and massage the sore spot, flinching when you try to move it. "Thought it was good."

JJ doesn't say anything, just nods his head deep in thought. He helps you remove your gloves and begins to unravel your bandages, stopping when you pull away from him to do it yourself. You're so focused on trying to shove your gear back in your bag, that you hadn't noticed that JJ had left.

You drag your duffle by the strap and swing over the ropes, JJ catching it as he came back. He holds the ropes so that you can climb out of the ring with more ease, hand guiding you down the steps.

"Here," he says draping a cooling pack over your shoulder and pushing you to sit on the step. "That bad huh?"

On instinct you shake your head, the more you complain the more you train, but that doesn't have to be the case anymore. Not on the cut at-least. "It's fine, it's manageable."

"I thought professionals looked after their bodies," JJ says stopping as he meets your glare. "I mean, like you should be resting not sparring." He leans his hand against the rope and looks down to you seated.

"Says the guy that's still healing." You point to his torso, sliding the ice pack away from your shoulder and placing it on the step beside you. "Anyways, I've gotta go." You don't need to trade sob stories, or get to know each other more.

JJ follows you through the gym after scrambling to get his gear together in his bag. You take your time, you're not sure why you wait for him, but you do. He opens the door for you, closing the gym and clicking the padlock to the front.

The flickering street lamps don't do much to light dark street, you fall in step with JJ as you cross the small parking lot. "See you around Maybank.," you call over your shoulder as you go your separate ways.

"I got you pretty good, huh Champ." JJ's leant against his bike, arms folded over his chest. "Remember that deal?"

You turn round regretting the abrupt movement in the wake of your takedown. "You're serious?" You want to laugh, but his serious expression and determined nod keeps you quiet.

The space between the two of you doesn't seem much when it comes to skill. JJ a little rough around the edges, but he made up for it by his ability to judge his opponent well.

"Okay, if you want to train with me you gotta be serious." You eye him as he mumbles an agreement. "Need a routine and discipline." Walking towards him you ask for his phone and enter your number.

"I got a fight tomorrow night, come by." JJ taps his phone screen, your phone beeping in your hoody pocket. "All the details are there, see you around Champ."

JJ goes to move, but you pull him back by his t-shirt. "One thing, you can't tell anyone I'm training you. Bad enough I'm going it alone, never mind my dad finding out I'm using his regime for you."

Saying your goodbyes, you watch JJ zip down the road on his motorbike. He'd offered you a ride home, but you need the fresh air and walk to clear your mind. The consistent buzzing of your phone drew your attention to the screen, the many notifications of missed calls from your Father. You'd been dodging him since you'd come to the cut, not wanting to into another debate about training or going to live with back on Figure eight.

You ignored the calls, putting your headphones in to listen to music and drown out everything around you.

[sunnyrealist]

🌶️ Ch. 23: We Still Have a Lot to Learn 🌶️ The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Chapter Background and Summary: Sebastian and Kate went on a date in Hogsmeade on the last Saturday of the school year. They had dinner and dessert, went window shopping (Kate showed Seb a piano she's been eyeing for a long time), and finally found the traveling band that visits annually. They went dancing and had a great time. When they took a break, Kate ran into one of her friends, Henry Finch, who happens to be an ex-boyfriend from years ago. Sebastian did not like the way Henry was interacting with her, and afterwards, Kate had to convince Sebastian that she only loves him and that Henry is only a friend. They decided to apparate back to Kate's cottage directly after their conversation.

Pairing: Aged-up, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x female OC (Kate Mayflower)

Content warnings: In general, this story is rated 18+, so MNDI! For this specific chapter - very possessive sex, bondage, oral - female receiving, body worship 🌶️

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Any kind of constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated. A comment, like, or Kudos would make my day!

Chapter 23: We Still Have a Lot to Learn

The moment they land in the living room, there is no time for Kate to make any move. Sebastian picks her up, carrying her straight to the bedroom. His hands are on her arse.

Kate has never seen Sebastian’s eyes so dark. 

He practically drops her on the bed, following her down immediately, pushing his knee between her legs. His lips crash into hers. He grabs her hands tightly, pressing them into the bed above her head. Kate moans as they kiss, feeling his arousal quickly come to life against her thigh. 

Sebastian lightly nips at her bottom lip, then swipes his tongue along it, demanding entry. Kate’s mouth opens automatically, and their kissing deepens. She breathes sharply through her nose, unable and unwilling to break away from him for even a moment. 

His right hand lets go of hers, his fingers traveling down her wrists, then her arms, her chest, and finally, they settle over her covered breast. He cups and squeezes until her nipple hardens. 

Sebastian’s lips finally move beyond her mouth to her cheek and then down her neck, so slowly, listening closely to her breathing as it grows labored. His tongue darts out, tracing a line down her neck and back up again. He begins his way down her neck once more, alternating between kissing and lightly nibbling her skin over and over. In response, she makes the most delicious, most addicting noises - better than he could ever dream up. 

Flicking his finger over her covered but incredibly stiff nipple causes Kate to squirm underneath Sebastian. She writhes around even more when his mouth closes around the space where her neck and shoulder connect. She whines in pleasure, bucking up into his knee and upper leg, seeking friction where heat has pooled between her legs. 

“Please, Sebastian,” Kate begs.

His pupils are blown wide as he raises his head, panting, staring down at her flushed face, her lips swollen and red from the bruising kisses Sebastian had inflicted upon her. Kate’s breasts are heaving.

“Tell me you need me,” he commands in a husky voice. “I want to hear you say it.”

Sebastian pushes his knee against her cunt, at which she whimpers again.

“I need you, Sebastian. Please, I need you,” Kate whimpers.

“More,” he replies aggressively. “I want to hear you beg for me. Tell me I’m the only one who can do this to you.”

His head dips back down, his teeth lightly closing around her peaked, clothed nipple. She yelps.

“Fuck! Sebastian!” Kate cries out. “Please, I need you!” She grinds against his knee, arching her back. “I only want you! I’m yours. I’m yours. Fuck, I’m yours!”

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers darkly. “What do you want, Kate? Tell me.”

“Merlin!” she practically shouts, frustrated. “You know what I want. I need you. Please, fuck me already! Sebastian, stop teasing!”

“I’m not teasing,” he murmurs in her ear, smiling devilishly. “I like to hear you sing, my love. I want you to only sing for me.” He pauses, breathing heavily, his hand returning to squeeze her breast. “I’m going to make you scream for me tonight. You’ll never think of any other man again, my Kate. I’ll make you so full of me it won’t be possible for you to think of anyone else. I’m the only one who can do this to you, my love. You only want me to fuck you. Tell me it’s true.”

Kate moans in response, still rubbing herself against him. “Gods, Sebastian! I never think of anyone else!” She takes a breath, steeling herself. “Every night, I imagine you taking me. Claiming me. Making me yours and yours alone. I don’t want anyone else!”

In her filthiest dreams, Sebastian fucks her over and over, filling her to the brim with his seed until it’s spilling out of her. She’s too ashamed to tell him now, but it’s her wildest fantasy for him to cover her with teeth marks and bruises, for her breasts to be shiny, painted with cum, for him to pleasure her until she actually screams and forgets even her own name.

“You’re mine, Kate. You’re only mine. No one else can have you,” Sebastian practically growls. 

She’s surprised by the intensity of his tone, but she doesn’t protest.

“No one else can touch you, feel your body,” he continues, then scoots back and stands on the floor, bringing her up with him. He reaches behind her, making quick work of the buttons on her dress. “I’m the only one who can take off your clothes, see what’s underneath.” He pulls the bodice and sleeves off of her arms, then watches as her dress falls down and pools on the floor around her. He gazes upon her hungrily, observing the lacy, baby blue corset that barely contains her breasts and the teeny, tiny knickers she chose for him, for tonight. “Your sexy lingerie is only for me.” 

“And removing your lingerie,” he begins, whispering in her ear in a velvety voice as he reaches around her, untying and loosening the stays, “is a job reserved for me alone.”

He opens the corset, then lowers it off of her arms to reveal her huge breasts, her nipples rosy and pert. “I’m the only man in the world who will ever get to enjoy your breasts - the pleasure of seeing them, feeling them in my hands and pressed up against my chest,” he murmurs quietly, bending his knees so that he can be face-level with her tits. His tongue dips out to trace circles around the nipple that was neglected earlier. She gasps in pleasure. Then, his lips close around it and suck until it is as stiff as possible. He releases it with a pop. “No other man will know how good your tits feel in my mouth.”

Sebastian brings her back to the bed, seating her across his lap. His huge hands explore her back, running up and down. “Knowing how soft and smooth your skin is, I’m not willing to share you.” His hands settle on her arse. His voice is husky, his breath warm against Kate’s ear. “Your curves, your perfect arse… all belong to me.” Kate shivers at his touch. His fingers are feather-light, tracing down her leg and closing over her foot, squeezing, practically massaging. “Every part of you is mine. Even your thighs, your legs, your dainty little feet.” His lips press a kiss to her shoulder.

“You’re perfect, my love - the most perfect woman in the world for me,” he whispers as his fingers move back up her leg and slide underneath the lacy band of her panties. “Your cunt is my home. You were made to take me and only me.” He pulls gently on the fabric, lowering it easily and tossing it across the room.

Sebastian lays down, then gently flips Kate to her back against the bed. “And because you’re mine, do you trust me, Kate? Do you trust me to make you feel good?”

Kate sighs as his lips move across her collarbone. “Yes. Gods, Sebastian… Please…” she whispers in response. “I’m yours…”

“That’s good. That’s so good. You’re so good for me,” he whispers as he slides off of the bed and back up to his feet, hastily removing his own clothing. His cock stands proudly, aching with the urgent need to bury itself within her heat.

Glancing about the room, he notices a drawer that Kate must have left open earlier in her hurry. It’s filled with hair ornaments and ribbons of every color. He strides over and selects two long, green ribbons. Kate watches him in curiosity, splayed out on the bed, as he returns to crawl over her. He wraps a ribbon around her wrist, tying it to one of the bars of the bed frame. Kate’s heart pounds as he does the same with her other wrist, her arms stretched out wide. Testing their strength, Kate struggles against them momentarily, but, ultimately, she doesn’t even want to fight what he’s doing in the least. Her lower legs dangle over the side of the bed.

“You’ll never escape me, Kate,” he murmurs, looking down at her adoringly. “I’ll always have you. I’ll never let you go.”

She gazes upon Sebastian hungrily, her eyes focusing in on his strong, athletic body - his huge pecs, the dark hair on his chest, his large biceps, the veins running down his forearms, his toned abs, the v-shape leading down to a patch of coarse hair, and his absolutely enormous cock, ending with a dark pink tip, bubbling with pre-cum. Even his thighs are somehow muscular. She can’t help but openly stare. “Sebastian, you’re… you’re so big. Absolutely ripped - and so hot. Seriously, so ridiculously sexy. I would never try to escape you. I’ll only want you more and more, I swear it.”

Sebastian can’t help but smirk at her compliments, his cheeks turning slightly pink. The combination of a blush against his freckles is more than Kate can even take. 

“Please, come here, Sebastian. Please, I need you now,” she begs.

“I need you now, Kate. I’ll always need you,” he replies softly. “I want to be the only one you need. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”

With that, Sebastian lowers to his knees next to the bed and spreads her legs wide. Kate’s eyes widen as she feels his lips against her cunt. She whimpers as his tongue licks stripes between her folds, flicking over her clit repeatedly. Her thighs are tight against each side of his head.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs. “Just for me. Just for me.”

“Yes, Sebastian,” she moans as he presses open mouthed kisses over her pussy. “Please, more…”

Kate gasps as she feels two of Sebastian’s fingers slowly enter her, then begin to pump in and out. “Mmmmm, oh… Oh gods, Sebastian!”

His lips close around her cunt, sucking, as he pleasures her. Kate’s back arches as the pleasure increases, and it isn’t long until he can feel her muscles contracting around his fingers, and she’s crying out his name over and over. He continues until she comes down from her high, then slowly pulls his fingers out and licks them.

“You’re so sweet, Kate,” he tells her in a hushed voice. “So fucking sweet on my tongue. I’m the only one in the world who will ever get to taste you, savor you.”

He rises to his feet, his cock aching. “And I’m the only man who will make love to you for the rest of your life. The only person who will ever make you come.” 

Lifting her legs up, Sebastian places Kate’s feet on his shoulders. His hands grip her shapely hips tightly, lining himself up with her cunt. “I’m going to make you see stars, Kate. I will always put you first, my love - you’ll always feel good with me. I promise you this.”

Sebastian pushes in, expecting some resistance, but Kate is drenched. His entire cock slides in fully at once, causing both of them to cry out sharply. He begins to move his hips slowly, but Kate begs him for more. Soon, his hips are rocking back and forth, creating the most obscene, wet sounds. His balls slap against her arse as they moan, both of them fully aware that this will not last long at all. 

Kate grabs on to the ribbons tying her wrists, trying to find something to hold on to as Sebastian pounds into her relentlessly. Both of them are red in the face and breathing heavily. Kate whines and whimpers, making unintelligible sounds as his tip kisses her g-spot over and over. Her breasts bounce tantalizingly - it’s a perfect view of the love of his life.

“Nnnnnnnghhh… Seb… Seb…” she practically sobs, her body shaking. “I’m… I’m… gonna… Oh, gods, Seb!!!” Kate’s vision goes white and she feels as though fireworks are exploding everywhere in her body.

Even without her warning, Sebastian knew she was close. Now, her walls tighten around him, closing in and sucking his cock in even further, squeezing him more, if that is even possible. A couple more hard thrusts, and it’s over for him as well. Deep inside her, Sebastian releases a huge load of cum as he groans her name. He pushes forward a few more times, not wanting to waste any drop of his seed outside of her body. She is his, and he needs to completely claim her.

Time seems to stop as they do. Sebastian’s legs are trembling as he pulls out and slowly lowers Kate’s legs. He lets himself fall on the bed next to her and attempts to untie the ribbons binding her wrists. His mind is so fuzzy it’s actually difficult for him, and Kate can’t help but chuckle quietly until he figures it out.

Kate’s arms immediately encircle him, and she leans in to kiss him deeply over and over as they come out of the haze of lovemaking.

“I… wow…” Sebastian murmurs, still slightly dazed. 

“Sebastian, that was amazing,” she whispers, pressing her lips to his again with her hand on his cheek. “So amazing.”

“I love you, Kate. I love you,” he tells her. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Sebastian,” she replies softly. 

They lay quietly for a long time, just staring at each other.

Eventually, Sebastian offers to get some water for them, leaving the room. As she stares up at the ceiling, she can hear him rummaging in the kitchen for glasses, then filling them. His feet pound against the wooden floor on his way back. 

They sit up on the edge of the bed, sipping their cool water. 

Kate lays her head upon his arm, feeling content and loved. The extensive foreplay, making sure she was feeling pleasured and ready for him, is just unlike anything she had experienced with other men. She truly feels well taken-care-of with Sebastian. His words were so sweet, so romantic as he prepared her. She loved him taking control.

Sebastian stares down at his glass of water. His body is more than satisfied, but his mind is still reeling from what happened prior to their lovemaking. He just cannot get the image of Kate running to another man (her ex-boyfriend, no less!), of her being embraced by him, of her being kissed on the cheek by him - it’s been on Sebastian’s brain the entire time they had sex. Kate swore she only loved Sebastian, that she chose him, but he still needed to hear it as they made love. Having her say over and over that she’s his, telling her that no other man is ever going to be with her again - he just needed to say it. No one is going to take Kate away from him, no matter what he has to do, he thinks darkly.

If she left him for another, he would have nothing to live for. Nothing.

He ends the peaceful silence.

“How long did you date Henry?” Sebastian blurts out, not fully thinking it through. 

Kate’s brows knit together. “What?” she asks. “Why are you asking that right now?”

“I don’t like him. I don’t want you being around him,” he replies quickly.

“Uh… what?” Kate repeats, sounding angry now. “You don’t even know him, Sebastian.”

“I don’t need to know him. I don’t want to know him. I don’t want you around your ex-boyfriend,” he continues. “He might try something.”

Kate’s head turns, fully looking at him now in disbelief and disgust. “I already told you that there is nothing more between us. We dated when we were at Hogwarts, for fuck’s sake.” She crosses her arms. “I would never let Henry try anything with me like that, not that he even wants to. We’re adults, Sebastian. We’re different people now.”

“How do you know he doesn’t want to date you, to be with you again?” Sebastian counters. “Did he tell you that?”

“No! Why would he tell me that?!” Kate exclaims, exasperated, then pretends to be Henry. “Oh, hey, Kate! I haven’t seen you in a couple of years, but I just wanted to inform you that I don’t want to date you.” She pauses. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?! And do you know how awkward it would be to ask him that? I’m not doing that.”

“I saw how he interacted with you,” Sebastian continues, refusing to budge. “He hugged you and kissed your cheek. And you looked, at one point, like he said something awkward to you. What did he say? Why did you look like that?”

Kate hesitates. “I… It’s nothing.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t speak, playing chicken with her.

“He… he made a comment about something from a long time ago,” she gave in, feeling sheepish. “You’re not going to like it, so I would rather not say. All you need to know is that you can trust me. I won’t betray you, Sebastian! Do you really think I cannot have a male friend?!”

“What did he say?” he repeated, not distracted by her other comments and questions.

Kate scoffs and sighs. “You’re only going to get mad!”

“What. Did. He. Say?”

Kate’s cheeks turn red. The blush even reaches her ears. “I… Ugh. How to even explain this… So… you know how I was kind of a troublemaker when I was in school? In my sixth year, I found out the password to the special prefect bathroom in the staff wing. I would use disillusionment after curfew and take baths when I knew it would be empty there.” She sighs again, hesitating, hoping he’ll let up, but he doesn’t. “I always went alone… but… in my seventh year, Henry and I… ” She glanced up at his eyes, quite nervous. “Well, after the Halloween Ball, we… we snuck in. Together. We had been dating for about a year then… and we had just started having sex…” She trailed off.

“Why are you telling me this?” Sebastian sounded upset.

“Because… When Henry told me that he had gotten the interim Beasts professorship for next year, he made a comment about it. He said maybe next year we could chaperone the dance and then go to the prefect bathroom together.” Kate cringed.

Sebastian didn’t say anything, but his face was turning red, and he chewed his lip.

“I said goodbye right after that, Sebastian!” Kate tried to pacify him. “I didn’t even acknowledge the comment. And I’m sure he was just joking.”

“You’re naive,” Sebastian finally said, quite flatly. “Kate, you have no idea. Do you know how pretty you are? Of course his mind went there. It’s probably something he thinks about late at night.” He was quiet for a moment. “So, anyways… you’re telling me he basically said he wanted to have sex with you again, but you’re telling me I’m crazy for assuming he’d think such a thing?” He shook his head. 

“Seb, it doesn’t matter,” Kate replied quickly. “I’m not interested in him! I told you that!”

Both of them frown, looking away from each other. 

“What is this really about?!” Kate finally demands.

Sebastian doesn’t answer for a while. He sits, deep in his thoughts, choosing his words carefully. Finally, he takes her hand. “Look, Kate. I’m in love with you. So much. You did something for me I thought would never happen. You gave me a chance. Not only do you accept me, but you love me - actually love me - despite my past.” He pauses. “I’ve been alone for almost a decade, Kate. Completely alone. My family is dead. My old friends… I don’t even know where they are or what they’re doing. I’m not even supposed to be here. I could be rotting in Azkaban - or dead. I’m serious. I could easily have died by now if I hadn’t broken out when I did.” He stares off into the distance. “But I found you. My world has changed. I have hope again. I have dreams. I’m in love. My sun, I want to give you everything. You’re the woman who turned my life around and made me smile again. Somehow, you chose me.” 

Kate squeezes his hand, urging him to continue on.

“Kate, you’re… you’re all I have to live for. So, imagine being in my place, seeing you so excited to hug and kiss another man, who happens to be your ex-boyfriend, who you only broke up with because of the distance. You must have had strong feelings for him in the past if you dated him for more than a year. Then, to add to all of this, this man happens to whisper suggestive things about what he’d like to do with you now that you’ll be reunited. How do you think that makes me feel?” he asks, then pauses. His face twists up, but his tone is genuine and honest. “Fuck, I’ll admit it. I’m bloody insecure. I’m possessive. But you’ve got to understand why.”

Kate nods in acknowledgement. 

There’s a long silence again. 

“Sebastian, I love you. I really do. I see a future with you,” Kate begins, her tone level. “But I won’t allow your insecurities to keep me from having male friends. That’s not fair. It’s not right. You have to trust in me. If you believe I’ll be unfaithful to you, we… we can’t do this. Please, Sebastian, don’t say we can’t do this.”

“No. I wouldn’t,” Sebastian replies quickly, turning and bringing his face close to hers. Their foreheads touch. “I trust you. I’m just… I’m sorry. I’m insecure, Kate. That’s what Azkaban did to me.” He ran his fingers gently through her hair. “You’re right. It’s not fair of me to impose those rules upon you. Unlike me, you have a life, family, friends… I shouldn’t change any of that. I don’t want to change you.”

“We still have a lot to learn about each other, Sebastian,” Kate acknowledges, smiling faintly. 

“I suppose we do,” he replies, kissing her cheek. “I want to know everything, Kate. Everything.”

“And you will,” she whispered in his ear. “I promise you will.”

[writergirl2011]

Fun With Fics

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

(I got tagged a while back and just remembered, lol. I am using a random number generator to pick the fics for this)

Single Parenting 101.

Jaime knew he should allow her some privacy, but he couldn’t resist peeking at the phone to see the girl—Brienne’s daughter, who looked to be around eight or nine. She was also Renly Baratheon’s daughter as she was the spitting image of him, except for her eyes. Renly’s were a bluish-green, whereas this girl’s were just like her mother’s.

2. Christmas Wrapping.

Trust Renly to bring ultrasound pics on a boat outing.  He probably had fifty copies in case he lost a few.

Renly plopped down beside her again and thrust them at her.  “Aren’t they gorgeous?”

Brienne stared at them, wishing she could think anything besides they look like alien life forms, what the hell.  Renly rattled on about 3D technology enabling them to get lifelike images, and didn’t she think that baby A—the girl—looked like Loras, while baby B—the boy—looked like he was going to have Renly’s chin?

3. Single Dad Dating 102.

Jaime held the door for Brienne as she walked into Martyn’s, then took her coat and was rewarded by the sight of the back of the blue blouse she’d changed into after Maggy was gone. The front, which all he’d seen because of the coat, was relatively modest, but dipped low in the back, revealing her back, covered with freckles.

He rather liked them.

4. they don't know about the things we do.

Jaime wonders if he should suggest that they finally tell people about them. It probably won’t deter Renly from trying to interfere with their lunches, but if they go public and Brienne puts her foot down, then maybe…

He won’t deny that he’s enjoyed the cat-and-mouse game of keeping their friends from finding out, but a growing part of him wants to be acknowledged as Brienne’s boyfriend.

5. you who know what love is.

Brienne Tarth would never be beautiful, or pretty, or even considered handsome. Despite the perfection of her dress, her looks remained as they always were. But after she made her curtsey to King Rhaegar and Queen Elia, both of whom smiled approvingly at her, she walked through the throng of people in the ballroom looking like a goddess, her strength coupled with her now evident femininity making her the love child of the Warrior and the Maiden.

6. Trust Me with You.

She lowered her hands and tried to work up the courage to ask if she could see him. But almost as if he heard her, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and dropped it to the floor. His fingers went to his vest and made quick work of the six buttons, then his tie. It wasn’t until he started unbuttoning his white dress shirt that Brienne noticed that his fingers were trembling.

7. and we could be enough.

Jaime turned to help with the task and a moment later, a snowball smacked him in the back of the head.

“Unfair, wench!” he shouted, but Brienne was not behind him as he thought.  He looked to see who might have done it, but the only person there was Sansa, smiling at him innocently with her hands tucked behind her back before she nodded and walked away.

Jaime supposed he deserved that.  He tried not to smile as he helped with the cleanup.

8. but no one knows it's only me.

It shouldn’t be possible. Jaime’s done a great deal of research in the eight years since he took over being the Librarian, and there’s never been a single instance of a superhero being able to use telekinesis by remote. Even Tyrion has to physically go to his location to be able to use his power, and he’s the most powerful telekinetic on record.

By the time she’s finished, Joanna’s face is deathly pale, her eyes are dull, and she sways on her feet. Jaime scoops her up and sits on the couch, holding her tightly.

9. Reprise.

The video starts with the usual hysterical screaming. Jaime stands there with a sad smile on his face as he waits for the fans to settle. Then he begins playing. He doesn’t try to do too much with it, doesn’t turn it into something wild or funky or discordant. He just stands there and plays her song, eyes lowered to his guitar as though he’s alone rather than in front of thousands of fans who are mostly silent as he plays, until the final note dies away and they scream in ecstasy.

Brienne struggles to breathe as she stares at the screen, now frozen on the enigmatic look on Jaime’s face after he raised his head to the crowd. She looks over at him now, and she knows he knows what she’s just seen.

10. there seems to have been some disturbance here.

“Is there a particular moment you want me to interrupt? Are they going for the traditional cloaking and vows to the Seven ceremony?”

Galladon snorts. “Of course not. That’s what Brienne wanted, but Hyle felt that that was too paganistic. They’re going for the modern revised Ceremony of the Seven.”

“So I should show up right after the septon asks if someone has an objection?” Might as well go for the most melodramatic moment of the whole ceremony.

LOL! Mostly the smaller stuff came up--let's hear it for the random number generator! I think the links work. If all else fails, you can find me at cardinalgirl75 on AO3.