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philistiniphagottini · 6 months

Note

feel free to take my request with a grain of salt <3

i’d love love love to read something with gallagher and fem reader maybe, with any prompts from; 15, 16, 20, 40...

or 29, 40, 50, 77... i hope that’s okay, ml ♡

Thanks for waiting Anon. I finished 2.1 yesterday and I felt ready to tackle this. I'm really liking Gallagher at the moment, he's very interesting (and I'm a whore for a beefy man). Thanks for the request, hope you enjoy :)

Smut Prompts

Prompts: 29 + 40 + 50 + 77

cw. smut, penetrative sex, collar & leash (for gallagher), size difference, rough sex, creampie, fem! reader, MDNI

"Enjoying the view, darl?" Gallagher drawled.

He stared up at you from his position on the floor, messy strands of his brunette hair falling into his half-lidded eyes as a lazy smile crawled over his bruised lips. You hummed softly in response to his question, pulling the leash that connected to his collar tighter. The leather weaved between your fingers as you tugged, the collar briefly constricting his throat as he was coaxed forward. A groan stirred deep in his chest as he crawled closer to you on his hands and knees, only stopping once he reached the foot of the bed. You sat perched above him, a coy smile tilting your lips as you idly twisted the leash around the palm of your hand.

"You look good down there, Pup."

Your teasing words only made the old bartender scoff. Him? Young? How flattering. But he bit his tongue even when the quip still itched at the back of his head. Instead, he kept quiet, allowing you to have your fun, to push and pull him to your every whim or fancy. He liked it when you bossed him around a little. You placed your feet on his strong legs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch as you slowly slide your feet along the tops of his bare thighs. His cock twitched between his legs when you cooed his name so sweetly, the tip of his drooling dick flushed a deep shade of red as it struggled to keep still. Gallagher’s gaze lingered on your sumptuous body perched above him, never once wavering as you cupped his face in your warm hand, fingers gently gripping his jaw as you tilted his chin up. There wasn’t a single ounce of resistance as you tipped his head, viewing his face from a different angle as a thoughtful noise bubbled up the back of your throat.

You leaned back as your feet slipped from his legs, your hand leaving his face as you placed it in your lap. You softly pat your leg, the gentle taps of your fingers hitting supple skin making Gallagher’s ears twitch forward at the enticing sound.

"Come to me, I’m sure you know what comes next" you said, a hint of amusement tinting the edges of your voice.

Gallagher grunted softly in response as you scooted further back on the bed, tugging on his leash and silently commanding him to follow. The cool, silk sheets beneath your body were a blessing against your heated skin, your blood simmering hotly in your veins as Gallagher joined you on the bed. The mattress creaked loudly in protest from his sudden weight, your heart beat pounding in your ears as he drew closer to you. Your eyes roved over his bare, muscular body as he stalked closer to you on his hands and knees, eyes tracing over every alluring dip and haggard scar littered over his torso. Your breathing wavered as you were completely engulfed in his shadow, a pleasant tingle racing down your spine and pooling in the pit of your stomach as you were reminded by the sheer difference in size between you.

He placed his big, strong hands on your thighs, the calloused tips of his fingers tickling along your plump skin as he smoothed his hands along the expanse of your bare legs. You tutted softly under your breath as you yanked his collar, the leather once again briefly constricting his breathing as his head shot forward and almost slammed into the headboard behind you. You gently swatted at his wandering hands and he immediately pulled them away.

"No touching" you reminded.

A warm chuckle stirred in Gallagher’s chest as he was reprimanded, words you spoke to him earlier in the evening ringing in his head like a chime from a shimmering bell. His hands landed by your sides, fingers dipping into the mattress as you were caged between his beefy arms.

"Sorry doll, gotta remind this old dog sometimes" Gallagher chuckled with a husky purr of your name.

You smiled warmly as you cupped his cheek and leaned up, the smell of alcohol lingering on his breath as his warm puffs hit your heated skin. You placed a chaste kiss to his jaw, the rough stubble of his beard scratching at your skin as you pulled back.

"It’s okay I know you’re a good boy deep down" you chimed as you gently pat his cheek.

You lay on your back once more, head hitting a fluffy pillow as you spread your legs wider to accommodate for Gallagher’s larger frame. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest as your legs fell open, exposing your wet sex to your lover’s hungry gaze as it opened like a delicate flower in bloom. A noise of approval rumbled deep in his chest at the sight of your drooling pussy, pearls of your arousal dripping down your quaking thighs and staining your skin with the sweet nectar. What he wouldn’t give to dive straight between your supple thighs and lap up the alluring beads. But like the good lap dog that he was he waited patiently, only moving when he was given permission to do so. He remained still as you reached between his thighs, hand wrapping around hardened warmth. A shaky breath fell from his parted lips; dazed eyes swimming in a deep sea of lust as your fingers curled around his arousal and started to lazily pump him.

"I’m sure you know what comes next?" you queried with a teasing lilt at the edge of your voice.

A short chortle escaped his dry mouth, tongue darting over his lips as his hips twitched forward into the languid strokes of your hand.

"Shit, I know I joked I was old but I ain’t that senile" Gallagher replied.

"Then please me~"

You gently guided his cock between your legs, every hair on the nape of your neck standing up in anticipation as your long eyelashes brushed against your burning cheeks. You rubbed the fat head of his dripping cock against the pretty pearl of your clit, feeling a violent shiver ripple down your back as the mere touch felt like a shock from a live wire. Gallagher’s jaw tensed as he hissed through clenched teeth, his cock sloppily coating the petals of your creamy folds as he drooled with hunger. His spine went rigid when you pushed the tip against your sopping entrance, the tight ring of muscles catching on the sensitive head and causing a broken moan to crawl out of his throat. Your lungs pinched in your chest as he pressed forward, helping to guide more of his cock in you now that he was properly aligned. The tips of your fingers started to tingle as you let go of his throbbing erection, allowing Gallagher to push the rest of the way in. His hips shuddered as his thick cock split apart your silky lips, sinking deeper and deeper into slick warmth as your pussy gripped him so tight he thought you were going to strangle him. You continued to tug on his leash, urging him to stuff more in you as you writhed beneath him, the aching burn of being stretched slowly being completely drowned out from the pleasure of the experience.

Tears clung to the edges of your lashes as Gallagher’s cock crowded your pussy, your insides feeling like they were turning to mush around the shape of him as he sheathed himself fully inside of you. You struggled to catch your breath; mind dizzy as you stared at the spot where you were joined in fervid rapture with dazed eyes. Gallagher’s hands tensed beside you, fingers digging into the sheets and threatening to tear them asunder with a simple tug of his hands. He stay still for a long, tense moment, waiting for you to adjust and give him further orders. The soft clink of a chain ring loud over your shared, ragged breaths, catching his attention as he gazed down at you with a curious tilt of his head. You gently tugged on his leash, foot pressing against the back of his thigh as your heel dug into his skin.

"Move."

He obeyed your order without a moment’s hesitation, pulling back only for his hips to snap forward and sink back into you. The hot coil in your belly twisted tighter as he dragged his cock through your sensitive walls, making you feel every throbbing vein on his steadily pulsing cock as he languidly thrust into you. Your pussy spasmed around him, desperate to swallow more of him as beads of slick steadily dripped down the sides of Gallagher’s cock. Your nails bit into the leather of the leash, scratching uselessly at the material as the pound of Gallagher’s dizzying girth slowly emptied your head of every single thought. Your head fell back into the comforting confines of your pillow, sweat dotting your brow as the heat inside you continued to writhe and twist, the pressure in your stomach fanning into fiercer flames with each languid movement of Gallagher’s hips.

His heavy panting filled your ears, hot puffs of his unsteady breaths tickling your skin as the mattress creaked along to his movements. You could feel yourself start to tremble along with the bedframe, the muscles in your legs tensing when you felt the tip of his cock slip deeper into you. You whined and moaned his name beneath him, soft tits bouncing along with his movements as the pleasure ate away at your insides like a starving beast. You fought to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth, swallowing thickly as your lips parted around a salacious moan.

"Gallagher…harder…"

Gallagher grunted above you, eagerly following your command as the pace of his hips started to increase. You moaned sweetly beneath him, legs coming to wrap around his broad waist and allowing him to slip deeper. Another wavering breath crawled out of your parched throat as you felt the heavy head of his cock brush against the soft, gummy patch inside you that made stars waver in your vision. You could taste the desire lingering in the back of your throat with your next shuddering breath, your fingers going numb as you tugged on his leash again.

"Harder" you moaned.

Gallagher let out a shaky breath, sharp teeth gnashing together as the collar cut off his oxygen for a few, precious seconds and made a vein in his head throb until he was allowed to breathe once more. Drool dripped from the corners of his lips, staining his chin and pooling between the scorching valley of your tits as his eyes flickered up to your face. Tears were ready to spill at the pace of his hips as you tried to hold onto the fraying edges of your nerves, your soused walls squeezing around his cock like you were silently frightened he was going to leave. A smirk tugged at his lips.

"Are you sure you can handle it, doll?"

You hissed sharply, lips becoming wedged between your teeth as you chewed on the swollen skin. You nodded your head vigorously, digging your feet into the dip of Gallagher’s back as you urged him to go faster.

"Yes" you breathed.

Well shit. An order was an order. With a deep growl he obeyed your command, choosing a pace that he knew would please you. You threw your head back with an indecent noise, lips abruptly prying apart as you screamed shamelessly into the moonlit night. You would be surprised if anyone could hear it over the violent trembles of the headboard smashing into the wall, the wooden frame just barely holding it together. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin made the tips of your ears burn red hot as his heavy balls slapped against the sensitive globes of your ass, sending violent shudders to dance along your arching spine. Your toes curled hard into the soles of your feet as the bubbling heat inside of you became unbearable, your clit shrieking in delight every time Gallagher’s pelvis hit the sensitive nerve and you could feel the rough drag of his pubic hair on the skin. It was hard for Gallagher to tear his gaze away from the sight of his cock disappearing between your silky folds but his gaze managed to linger on your face when you finally ripped apart at the seams.

The hot coil inside of you abruptly shattered into a million tiny pieces, liquid ecstasy flooding your veins with white hot relief. Your muscles tensed, heart jumping into your throat as you cried out and almost choked on the very air you so desperately tried to breathe. Gallagher swore something foul under his breath as your fluttering walls suddenly gripped his cock tightly, smothering him with blistering, sweltering heat as your sweet juices oozed around his cock. A snarl itched at the back of his throat as his hands dug into the mattress, his brutal pace refusing to taper off as you rode out the intense waves of your pleasure high. The sight of you writhing so exquisitely beneath him almost broke him but he was able to fight off his thrashing instincts before they consumed him.

"Shit-shit, gonna cum" Gallagher grunted, voice hoarse as his throat stung. "You gonna let me cum in you, baby girl? Fuck, please let me cum in you."

Your voice cracked when you tried to speak and all you could manage was a weak nod as you felt light headed with rapture. Once Gallagher registered that he had obtained you permission, he buried himself in you as far as he could, the head of his cock smothered against your cervix as every single nerve in his body overloaded.

The pressure snapped as he buried himself to the hilt inside you with a loud grunt, balls tight and cock kicking with each heavy spurt of his cum. Ropes of his hot, viscous seed coated your walls, the heat his body provided occupying your hazy mind as you were filled to the brim. He pumped every last drop into your greedy pussy, your snug walls milking him dry as the warmth overflowed and dribbled down your quaking things in thick rivulets. The pace of his hips finally ceased as he held himself above you on unsteady hands, arms straining to keep him aloft and prevent him from crushing you under his sturdy weight. Leather bit into his skin as you tugged his leash, forcing him to come closer. Your shaking legs untangled from his hips and finally dropped back on the mattress, your cramping muscles singing with relief. Gallagher brushed strands of damp hair off your face as he leaned forward, his forehead bumping against yours as your noses touched. Your heavy breaths mingled as you purred in content beneath him, not even complaining when he removed himself from you with a loud and wet pop.

"Doing alright sweetie?" Gallagher drawled.

You nodded as you swallowed thickly. "Yeah, I’ll be right."

You idly pat his hair, threading your fingers through the soft, brunette curls as you fondly rubbed your hand through the messy strands. "Good boy."

Gallagher leaned into your touch, happy to accept your praise. Your legs fell open once more as you tugged his leash, drawing his attention to the apex of your thighs. You ran your other shaky hand between your legs, fingers becoming sticky with the mixture of your combined spend. You shot Gallagher a sly look. It may have looked seducing if you weren’t feeling so boneless. He thought it looked cute, the shy look in your eyes and the soft smile on your face.

"Clean up your mess" you mumbled softly.

Gallagher rolled his shoulder until the stiff muscle shifted back into place with a satisfying pop. He shot you a lazy grin. "Yes ma’am."

#my writing #honaki star rail #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr gallagher #hsr gallagher x reader #gallagher x reader #gallagher smut #x reader #fem!reader #nsft

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year

Text

landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I��m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

part two (x)

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #hi bam!!!!#ian #jungkook fluff

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elizabethsproctor · 3 months

Text

then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” i said, “art sure no craven,"

Davos Blackwood x Bracken OC Davos is the eldest son of Lord Samwell of House Blackwood and the scourge of all the knights and squires of House Bracken. Though he thinks himself a knight and concerned with duty and honor, he spends most of his free time with his own squires, tormenting all the Brackens that they happen upon. Celeste Feathers is the bastard daughter born of Amos Bracken and a Summer Isle whore. At the chance of a higher dowry for her daughter, the baby was sent to live with her father in the wet and windy Riverlands until a husband was chosen for her. Though the two had a chance encounter as children, they have only heard stories about each other in the meantime until one fateful day near the boundary line in the forest. wc: 4k chapter: 1/?

tw: hinting at sa

"Since when do the Bracken's send their women past the boundary stones? And so close to sunset at that? Miserable and ignorant old bastards. You're in the woods, my lady, or do they not teach you maidens about the dangers of crossing into Blackwood territory?"

Celeste turned around sharply, not expecting to have heard the voice of another that late into the evening, but she knew the danger at once.

"They teach us fairly well, good knight," Celeste said, feeling her hip to see that her dagger was still sheathed. "The assize permitted this land to my house. You know that." She searched the young man's face, trying to decide who he was before determining that he was the lord's son. She took a few steps back, prepared to run if he would accost her.

Davos grinned, the dim light of the setting sun catching his canine teeth.

"Assize." He mocked, mimicking the girl’s high tone. "What a perfect, little Lady you are... If not, you certainly speak the part like a good little highborn."

The young lord took a few steps forward, his hand upon the pommel of his sword. The blade had been passed down from his father to him not so long ago, and it felt like a boast.

"You're quite a feisty little minx, aren't you?"

Celeste tightened the grip on her dagger and stared the boy back in his eyes. "You don't scare me, Davos," she said with fervor. "And you don't have your squires to applaud you, little pup. Back down, and I may forget your insults."

She knew she didn’t have much ground to stand on, but she wasn’t sure that Davos knew that. The sun was sinking, and she had been out adventuring. In truth, she wasn’t sure where the boundary lines ended and began within the woods, and she knew, in truth, that even if she told anyone within her court that Davos had maligned her, she would only be punished in return. Why was she in the woods? Alone? At night?

Celeste was but only the bastard daughter of Lord Amos Bracken and a woman from the Summer Isles. She was sheltered, but treated well… as well as a bastard would be treated, especially one with a deep caramel complexion and a stature that rivaled other men her age. It was clear she was different, and though no one had ever said anything to her face, not even her father’s wife, it was evident by one look into the reflection of the river.

Davos' cocky grin faltered for a brief moment as he noted the dagger at her hip, and her determination. He was not used to people, particularly women talking back to him, and he felt a strange stir in his chest.

"Is that so, Lady Celeste?" He mocked her tone once again. "You're a bit of a vixen, you know... I admire your confidence, though you might want to be more careful of who you talk to like that. After all, you're far from the safety of your little stone towers... Not to mention you're alone."

"I am alone, Davos, but you are also alone with me," Celeste shrugged, not daring to meet the boy with a grin, as he would mistake it for kindness. She looked over his face. It wasn't one she had seen for some time up close. She wondered if he remembered her from when they were younger. A small scuffle past the boundary line. Davos had been breaking up a fight or perhaps cheering one on between a Blackwood and a Bracken, and Celeste had come tumbling in to break it up herself, and shockingly, Davos had called for order-- no blood to be splattered on the lady's 'pretty yellow dress'.

She had balled her fists. The dress was orange. He had known that.

That had to have been ten years ago, and had they grown in that time! He was handsome, a pair of crooked teeth and shaggy hair. Still as annoying as ever, as annoying as the squires of House Bracken spoke of him being, but she had only seen him from a distance after so many years, but she remembered him. No one else had the radiating cockiness that he did.

"What, good knight? Will you retrieve your father to deal with me? Twenty lashings for reprimanding his puppy?"

The young Blackwood lord's eyes widened for a moment, and the smirk he wore wavered for the briefest of moments as he noted the familiarity in her gaze, and it suddenly clicked into place. That fiery little girl in that stupidly orange dress, back before the wars had started. He couldn’t have forgotten that it was her, but it had slipped from his mind that it had even happened. He had been knocked on his ass… so many times. Gods, he could practically remember the angry look on her face!

"That seems excessive, wouldn’t you say?" He chuckled, taking another step forward. "After all, it is just us... and I'm curious."

"Curious about what," Celeste retorted, noticing Davos closing the gap. She did him the favor and stepped forward as well, only about a yard between them. It was far enough that she could step back and run if he retrieved his knife.

Davos tilted his head to the side as if he was studying a particularly curious animal, and stepped even closer, until the two were almost chest to chest.

"Merely that a fine young lady such as yourself would be so boldly passing the stones." He said, his smirk returning. "I'm quite surprised your father hasn't locked away that feisty tongue of yours."

Celeste shook her head slightly. If only the man had tried. It was known about the castle that Celeste had… masculine proclivities. She liked to climb and hike and sneak away when the maidens did their work, and perhaps that had done little to endear her to the ladies of the court. But what she had gained in the meantime was courage and diplomacy. Neither of these things granted her a stick between the legs however, and she was still looked down on, perhaps even further for her attempts to raise herself up.

"Ah," she snickered for the first time, pointing a finger to his chest. "Would you prefer to have found me if I was a fine young man?" It was a joke on his sexuality, something to menace him. Celeste was beautiful, but strange to the men in the realm. At least that far north. They often looked at her as if they could not touch her, and maybe because of her father, they couldn't.

"I'm surprised your father hasn't put down his rabid dog, Davos. Let me go. This conversation bores me. Will we go back and forth on who has the better wit or will you send your hounds to strike me down for crossing the boundary? What do you wish for? The sun is sinking."

Despite the fact that every fiber in his body was burning with the desire to knock her on her ass for her insolence, Davos' only outward response was an eye roll.

"You little-"

The young lord took another step forward, and in a surprise move, gripped her hip and backed her into a large oak tree.

"I've a better question for you, you little minx. Does your father know that his little princess is prancing alone in the forests, so close to nightfall?"

Celeste felt her feet trip beneath her as the boy pushed her onto the tree. He had already been taller than her, but now he hovered over her by a great amount. She straightened her back again, getting as close to eye level as she could, her cloak tugging on the bark behind her back.

She was confused, though exhilarated, but fear began to pulse through her body when she felt how strong he was compared to her. There was no way to run if he truly threatened her.

"I am not hopeless," she spat out. "He needs not know about my actions, because he knows I am a weapon in my own right. You should unhand me, Davos. I might forget this," she squirmed.

"A weapon are you? Is that so?"

Davos chuckled as he watched as the young girl squirmed, and leaned in closer to her, using his free hand to grip the other side of the tree, trapping her completely. He was close enough to her now that he could feel her breath on his skin.

"Is this how you're going to defend yourself, Lady Celeste? Squirming and wiggling like a little fish on a hook?"

"You're craven," she shook her head, looking at the boy and shaking her head. "The sun is setting, and they'll be looking for me before they even think of you."

The grin on Davos' face only widened further, and he leaned his head down so his mouth was mere centimeters from the shell of her ear.

"And who is 'they', my lady..?" He asked her in a low voice, his breath warm as it cascaded over her skin. "Surely you don't think that I'd let you go so easily, do you?"

"You're as stupid as you are ugly," Celeste said, pushing against the boy's chest though he hardly budged. She couldn't believe his audacity, but at the end of the day, he had more status than she did. He was a man. And legitimately born.

"Do as you wish, but don't waste my time, you moron. I'm not scared. Release me or get on with it."

Davos chuckled at her attempt to push him away, and instead pressed closer against her, caging her against the rough bark of the tree. His hand slid from her hip to her waist, and he leaned in even further, his body pressed against hers.

"Ugly..?" He repeated the word as if it was a curse, his eyes narrowing. "And I'm the stupid one, eh? You've sure got a mouth on you... No wonder nobody wants you, little minx."

Celeste hadn't been looking at the boy for some time, but at his words, her brown eyes sunk back into his gaze and a flash of vulnerability played on her face. The rest had just been banter... but how could he know that? Or say it? It wasn't true.

She thought for a few seconds then scoffed. "You're set on making this personal," Celeste tilted her head back onto the tree, catching the sunlight, knowing it would soon be gone.

"I could knee you in the most private of parts at this exact moment and end our tryst, my lord. Why toy with me?"

Celeste thought about her mother in the Summer Isles and wondered if she would ever see her. Everything could be taken away in a second due to the Blackwood boy, but it had never really been given before, had it? Soft, white beaches and cyan water for the cold, damp wet of the Riverlands for less than her weight in gold, and who would marry her? Perhaps she didn’t care that Davos had her in that position. Was it not what she deserved for not knowing her place?

Celeste sighed, her cool breath brushing against the boy’s nose.

The young lord chuckled once again at her defiant demeanor, admiring how his words had gotten under her skin. He had not expected the flicker of vulnerability he had briefly seen in her eyes, though he filed the information away for future reference.

"You could do that, couldn't you..?" He mused, his hand on her hip tightening its grip. "But you won't, will you? If you were truly not scared, you would have already."

"I don't wish to maim you, Davos. I know a great man such as yourself would lose every birthright given to you if you had no balls in which to populate the Riverlands," she gave a small and annoying smirk and pushed against his chest again. "I'm no villain."

Davos couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped his lips. Damn it, she really was sassy. Her insolence was not something he was used to, and he wasn't sure if wanted to knock her down a peg, or pin her against the tree and kiss her.

"Damn it all.."

He muttered under his breath, his hands moving to circle her petite wrists, pinning them above her head against the trunk of the tree.

"You're doing this to me, you know that? All bark, no bite."

"I'm sure you will do what you will,' Celeste said, looking at her hands above her head and realizing there was not much else she could do at the time being. "But answer me a question first. Truthfully."

Davos chuckled as Celeste finally seemed to realise that there was no escape from his grip, and he leaned in so his face was directly in front of hers.

"A question, eh? I'll answer truthfully, depending on the question." He told her, his gaze flicking from her face down to her chest as her top strained against the position he'd put her in.

"Just now. You said 'no wonder nobody wants you'," she lifted her chin, recognizing she was showing her insecurity to someone who could surely use it against her. She did not want to look weak however, she made eye contact with him all the while. "What would come upon you to say that? What whispers have you heard across the river, puppy?"

Davos was a little surprised at her sudden display of genuine feeling, and for a moment his own words seemed tasteless and callous. He had said them purely in an attempt to needle her further, not to actually hurt her.

He leaned his head down so their faces were almost touching, and his voice was low as he responded.

"Perhaps I knew what someone of your position must keep themselves up at night regarding..."

His gaze wandered back down to her chest, where it lingered for a moment before flicking back up to her face.

".. or I am no fool, and I hear the lads of both houses talk."

"The lads of both houses," she snickered, her arms shaking under the pressure of her wrists. "The lads of one of those houses are beneath me. My father's knights," she rolled her eyes, almost in disbelief. "Does no man pledge fealty in this age?" She could feel hot tears of vengeance, sadness and irritation on her eyes. She should have been much more upset that the boy had her in the most uncomfortable and unfortunate positions, but instead she could only think of how grateful she was to him for telling her what she had always suspected: that she would never truly be accepted in the riverlands, not even in her father's home.

"Well, Davos," she said finally, looking at the boy with a shrug. "Thank you for that. My trust in you is now without question." Silence.

Davos' eyes widened at her response, and he could immediately see that his words had had a much greater effect than he'd imagined. A frown tugged at his lips as he realized he'd made her cry. He'd never wanted to see a woman cry in his life, and the thought that he had made this strange, sassy little girl shed tears twisted a knife into his gut.

"I-"

He struggled for words for only a moment, and his grip on her wrists loosened, though he did not let her go completely.

".. I did not intend to upset you, Celeste."

She stared at him without saying anything for some time before a frown appeared on her lips as well. As brave as she was, she was still young, childlike even. A woman masquerading as someone free, a foreigner masquerading as someone home, and a bastard pretending she wasn't the embarrassment of the Riverlands.

It was moments like these that brought her back to earth; the fantasy was exposed. She could not defend herself or her honor nor would she ever be able to. It felt right to acquiesce to his hands, and she and Davos both knew, even if she told others of his misdeeds, no harm would come to him. She was nobody.

"Do you remember me from when we were children?" She said with some sentimentality, her head drooping.

When she spoke again, a wave of nostalgia washed over Davos as he was transported back to those carefree days of childhood, so many years ago. The memory of her yellow dress and the smirk on her face was so clear in his mind.

"I do," he murmured, the tension between them lessening slightly. "You came tumbling out of the trees, in that ridiculous yellow dress, and broke up something I shouldn't have been participating in."

"The boys were older," she said, only suddenly remembering. She had been so brave, a small smirk spread onto her face. Of course, Davos and her had been little as well, but he was a lord. They bent the knee to him.

"The dress was orange," she said, shaking her head. "You knew that. A cunt even then, you were."

Hearing her speak of her childhood act of bravery, and the confidence in her voice when it had happened, sent a strange pang stabbing through Davos' chest that he had never felt before.

When she corrected him on the color of the dress, he chuckled softly, and rolled his eyes. "Of course I knew it was orange, you imbecile. I just said it was yellow to rile you up. I've always liked riling you up."

Celeste felt her stomach turn. Perhaps she shouldn't have felt that way. Flattered by his words. Flattered by him remembering her from all that time ago, spending the extra time to bother her. To even take note of her. She got such little attention, and when she did, it was scorn, though occasionally, and a glimmer in her father's eye and gifts from her mother every few years. She knew her father loved her, but how could he possibly dote any affection upon the proof of his infidelity? He loved her in secret and carved small trinkets for her, smiled while she was scolded for playing with her brother's arrows.

All that though, all those small grievances, or tiny reminders that she was, indeed, alive, were overshadowed by the attention that an enemy had the ability to dote. Anything was better than apathy, and had he, really, gained as much by teasing her then as he did not, with the print of his cock nearly embedded into her gown? She shook her head at the boy and laughed.

"Let me go, Davos. There's no reason for this."

The laugh that escaped her lips sent a shiver down Davos' spine, and he realized that he liked hearing her laugh, even if it was at his expense.

He shifted slightly, slowly releasing her from the grip he had her trapped in against the tree with, although he didn't completely drop his hands from her.

"No reason for this, eh?" He repeated, his tone holding the same cockiness from before. "If I let you go, what's to stop you from running back to daddy?"

"I will go home, it's growing dark, but," she thought for a second, but the second couldn’t have been filled with anything intelligent or worthy. She looked at his hands on her waist. She took a gulp and sighed. "I can meet you here again... overmorrow. If you'd like it."

Davos tilted his head slightly as she spoke, his fingers drumming gently against her hip until she mentioned meeting again the evening after next.

A smirk slowly spread across his face and he stepped forward, closing the gap he had created between their bodies when he had released her.

"And how do I know you will come back?" He wondered, his tone mocking. "For all I know you could run straight to daddy and tattle on me."

"I might run home and tell on you," Celeste shrugged. "What would be the difference? Do you think they'd raise an army in my name? Why do you jest? You've already humbled me enough this evening, you don't think?"

"Tch,"

Davos scoffed at her response and rolled his eyes once again. He could not deny that he had been having too much fun riling her up, and he was almost reluctant to see her go.

"You're a strange little vixen, you know that? One second you're defiant, next second you're giving in and agreeing to meet me again."

"I guess I could be planning to bring my half-brothers along with me to slay you where you stand and put your cock and balls in my hand as tribute," she said, only inches away from his lips. She smirked.

Davos' eyes widened for only a moment before an almost maniacal grin appeared on his face.

"By the Gods, I knew you were feisty, but I didn't think you were that much of a savage."

He chuckled heartily and leaned in towards her, his nose almost touching hers.

"You wouldn't harm a hair on my head, little vixen. I know you like me too much for that."

"Like is not the word," Celeste said, pulling her head away from the boy and placing it as close to the edge of the tree as possible to avoid accidentally kissing him. She wouldn't mind it, but on her own terms.

She wanted a night to think about her decisions. The blood under her skin was fooling her; he was her sworn enemy, a snake, and a wolf in sheep's clothing, but he had told her the truth when no one else in her life had ever dared to begin. And his crooked, crooked teeth. They were so reminiscent of their childhood encounter, it made her heart twinge in nostalgic pain.

"I will see you in two nights, Davos, and if I'm not here," she gestured behind her with her head. "You do know where I sleep."

Davos pouted slightly as she pulled away from him, not letting their faces touch like he had intended. He wanted to close that last final gap between them and pin her back against the trunk of the tree, press his body into hers and taste those sweet lips.

He was sure she wanted it too, underneath all of her insolence.

"If you're not here, eh? And what is to stop me from sneaking into your room and... forcing you?"

"Guards. And knights. And townspeople by the hundred. You think they don't know your houndish little face?" Celeste shook her head, the sun only a few minutes from setting. "You had your time to finish me here, and you wasted it with your petty remarks, doggy. You will see me or you won't, but this opportunity is gone. I must go."

Davos bared his teeth at her mocking tone, but he knew she was right. He had had her trapped against the tree, he could have done whatever he wanted, but instead, he had used his time taunting her instead.

"Very well," he said finally, and he released her completely, taking a step back. His eyes raked across her figure before they met her eyes again.

"I expect to see you here tomorrow night, little vixen. Don't keep me waiting."

"Two nights," she repeated. "I said two." The forest floor was already growing dim as she backed away, starting a small jog before the boy could grab her again to argue. She needed time to think, and perhaps some time for him to want her.

"Two nights!" Davos called after her as she started to dart away. He knew he could easily reach out and tug at the hood of her cloak and pull her back to him, but he decided to let her go. For now.

He stood there, under the tree, long after she disappeared from his sight. There was a strange feeling bubbling in his chest that he had never felt before, and he spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what it was.

#hotd #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #got #game of thrones #tasnc #hotd fanfic #got fanfic

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evilminji · 3 months

Text

You know what would be HILARIOUS?

For everyone NOT involved in the situation?

If the Uzumaki, mad lads that they were, seal master's who routinely moon the Shinigami for funsies that they are, got SUUUUUPER drunk? And were like?

"F-! *hic!* FUCK your fancy ass Summons contract Himiko! I got one TOO, you know. A..An' it's TOTALLY better then yours! It's got BLACKJACK! And hookers!" *falls on their face unconscious*

Needless to say? Not their proudest moment. Actually, their kinda deeply embarrassed. But like FUCK ARE THE BACKING DOWN! Their mouths wrote a check their ass can't currently cash... so the only REASONABLE solution? Apologize and tell the truth? Psh! NO.

Break Reality Until It's TRUE.

THEN they weren't technically lying!

They're a GENIUS~☆! :D

And yes, yes this IS normal behavior for them. It's both cultural AND genetic. There was a REASON people were terrified of those insane mother fuckers.

Because? They just? MADE UP a A Summons Contract. With Who? Dunno! We're gonna find out! But it looks right Seals wise! *signs name before anyone with sense can stop them, does the signs, draws blood aaaand?*

POOF!

Nani THE FUCK!? Says local dead Japanese 16th century fisherman who was flying by to visit the Lair of his buddy the 14th century monk. Behold! A FUCKING ZONE GHOST! He is unsummoned before he can react.

The Uzumaki have A Ghost Contract™.

.........th....they may have fucked up.

YOU THINK?

Roars basicly the ENTIRE Elders council. Who FUCKING FELT THAT. Because EVERYONE Felt that. They're SENSOR. That was a HOLE in REALITY that somehow GLOWED like a BEACON of both absolute Nothingness and Death! You TRAUMATIZED THE KIDS, YOU ASSHOLE!

Still....they ARE ninja. And Curious mother fuckers to the last.

So basically EVERYONE and their dog signs it. They somehow get WEIRDER. Bigger Chakra reserves. Obsessive tendencies. Meh, you win some, you lose some.

But? Then they fuckin DIE. (And their WHOLE ASS VILLAGE SHOWS UP IN THE ZONE. OH GOD, WHAT-!?)

And some grave robbing fuck tries to use the Contract. SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!

Ghost Uzumaki!

Your literal worst nightmare!

They DO NOT try using it again. It gets sealed DEEP. Until the Hokage gets wind of it. And, of course, Danzo. The Hokage sends Hound. And Team Kakashi on a completely unrelated but nearby "help a farmer" mission. Danzo sends assassins. Because he's fucking awful.

Kakashi gets the scroll.

Yep. Creepy rambling and shit handwriting, def Uzumaki. Time to go.

He gets attacked on the way back to camp. GDI Root. Well, its you or me. Sucks for you, I guess. They fight. They get a lucky shot. He bleeds on the scroll, doesn't notice. But SURELY... SURELY it isn't CROWDED enough with names that the Uzumaki just added a "and anyone who bleeds on THIS part at the bottom _______ plus does the handsigns" towards the end.... RIGHT??

RIGHT?! Look him in the EYES Uzumaki Clan, RIGHT??!

They would prefer not to answer that. The Vibez here are getting REALLY aggressive, you know? >.> It made sense at THE TIME...

So... he goes to summon his Dogs.

And he SURE DOES GET UM.... plus One(1!!!).

Who the FUCK is this glowing green dog? A puppy? Kakashi seeing the dimwitted looking little thing about to get STABBED tries to rescue it. It takes one look look at him (worried for it), the other dogs (growling at his enemies, fighting) and... turns around, shifting as it does, to HUNDREDS of times it's previous size.

Like an Akimichi transformation.

A sudden, hulking, green WOLF with red glowing eyes and killing intent that would Rival a demon's. The howl is unearthly. It joins the fray like a meat thresher.

Then pops back to a floating, tongue lolling, dimwitted pup the second everything is done.

G...God boy?

Far be it for KAKASHI to fear a dog, no MATTER how dangerous. So he carries it back to camp. Where it seems to instant fall in LOVE with Naruto. They become the BEST of friends.

There's frolicking.

Looking down at the pocket with the scroll he reclaimed? Yeah. Yeah that tracks. According to Pakkun, the pup has a "weird, echo-y" accent and is incredibly scatter brained. Training to be a gaurd dog? WAS Training. IS currently... what.

Okay. IS currently the gaurd dog/pet of an Emperor. Because THATS not alarming. Did the Royal family all... wait... he examines the pup again. Transparent. Was it KILLING intent he felt... or a Deathy pressure? Didn't the Uzumaki have Forbidden soul and death seals? It would stand to REASON...

Oh god damn it.

Pakkun. Pakkun please tell me that pup is ALIVE.

(He can not.) (Hilariously? Dispite being TERRIFIED of Ghosts? Naruto is TOTALLY COOL with Zone Ghosts? Don't be MEAN, Sensei! They're just PEOPLE! It's not THEIR fault They're dead! Now GHOSTS? Spooky and EVIL! Totally different.)

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay

#dpxnaruto #dp x naruto #minji's writing #green doggo au #wait wrong dog! au

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surielstea · 14 days

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Puppy Love

Eris week day two: Childhood

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x WinterCourt!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris adventure beyond their courts borders to go hunting in the secluded, evergreen forest.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff | adolescent Eris is a force to be reckoned with.

2.5k words.

The crisp, cold air fogged in front of my mouth as I let out a relishing breath. Officially winter, the season sacred to my Court. I nearly giggled with delight as my boots crunched in the snow, the sweet sound putting a beaming smile on my face.

I was on my trek towards the Autumn Court border, where I'd meet with Eris. Vanserra, a young lord and the sole heir of the Autumn Throne, though rumor has it that the Lady of Autumn was pregnant with another.

Eris and I met last year when he scared off my prey with his loud steps, I practically growled in his face but he only stared at me wide-eyed with flushed cheeks— and then I realized he had never met a girl who wasn't tripping over themselves in attempt to charm him, a young handsome lord would be any Court Lady's dream. That day he had claimed he didn't know what he was doing, that his father sent him out here with some fancy arrows and told him to bring back dinner. I gave him my harvest that day and he demanded I teach him how to hunt, and we've met every morning since.

"I hate the cold," The young lord grumbled, his reddened nose awfully adorable and destroying his facade of distaste.

"Of course you do, Lordling." I sigh. "Accustomed to a life of warm meals and crackling fireplaces," I drone on as I approach him, my white fur cloak blending in with the blinding snow.

His lip curled. "You're a princess, you're accustomed to that too."

I shrug. "Yes but I, unlike you, don't whine when the weather isn't to my liking," I hum with a snarky smile.

He deadpanned. "If I recall, five months ago you were moaning and groaning about the heat." He retorted and my smile fell.

"Well then," I click my tongue. He looks down at the basket in my hands, his brow raised.

"This is a gift for you, for our one-year friend anniversary." I hum and hold the wicker basket out to him, the blanket over it shifting with movement. He looked at it curiously, as if whatever was inside might bite his hand off.

"Friend zoned? After all my efforts of attempting to enchant you?" He says, taking the basket from me. I give him an incredulous look. He knew it'd never work, that the Prince with fire in his veins and Princess of ice and snow could never be together, forever opposing courts. No matter how badly I wished for that fact to change.

"Just, open it." I push the basket into his hand and he takes it, a sniffling snout peaking out from beneath the blanket. Eris looked at me slightly alarmed but I only gave him an encouraging smile. He sighs and flips back the rest of the blanket, revealing a pup with a gray coat, his tail wagging excitedly at the sight of his new owner.

"Where did you get this?" He looked at me with alarmed confusion and I rolled my eyes.

"My uncle gifted him to me on solstice, but we don't have the right environment to train and take care of him," I took the pup from his basket and cradled him in my arms, he chuffed and attempted to lick my cheek.

"He's a hunting dog, a smoke hound to be exact," I explain and hand him to Eris, who holds the dog like he was an alien.

"I know what he is. Do you understand what you're giving away?" He raises a brow. Smokehounds were the best breed in Prythian, not only that but this was a pure breed, so rare that even one was extremely difficult to come by. I knew the Autumn Court had prized them, and I could think of no one more deserving than the young lord who had snuck his way into my frozen heart this past year.

"Yes, very aware." I smile.

"I can't accept him, any of this," He shakes his head and puts the dog back into the basket, and attempts to hand it back to me.

"But look, he's already so attached to you," I argue with adoring eyes as the pup licks at Eris's ringed fingers.

"Let him hunt with us today, and then we'll decide who he goes home with." I place the basket down and watch as the hound spills out of it, trotting through the deep snow. His thick coat kept him warm, and his tongue lolling out was enough to say he was happy to be outside rather than trapped in my castle, to be doing what he was born to.

"Fine," Eris sighed, then grabbed his bow from his back. I did the same with mine. We followed the dog through the forest, allowing him to lead us as he tracked an invisible scent that even our fae senses couldn't pick up. His long ears nearly dragged through the snow as he trudged forward.

"What will you name him?" I ask softly, my voice quiet in fear of scaring off any prey.

"You can name him," Eris grumbled, showing only disinterest in the dog. I'd find it rude if I didn't know him better than that. He was trying to let it not get to him, he had never received such a meaningful gift for no real reason. He didn't like the warm feeling in his chest that he had never quite been able to control.

"Come on," I groan. "At least bounce ideas with me?" I suggest but he ignores me and I stop in my tracks, staring at him and sheathing my arrow back in its quiver.

He halted too after realizing I had stopped and turned to me with a raised brow.

"Why do you do this," I sigh.

"Do what?" He slings his bow over his shoulder.

"Deny any form of admiration I try to give you?" I stride closer, only a pace but enough to send him a message.

He stayed silent, only swallowing thickly as a reply. "It's a hound, Princess. I appreciate it but it's too grand of a gesture—" He begins to argue after a moment but I cut him off.

"This isn't about the dog." I shake my head. "Why do you refuse to let me you let me love you?" My brows crease and he bristles at my wording, but that is what it was, isn't it? That warm feeling he couldn't control that twisted him into knots, it was love, and he was terrified of it.

"Because I don't feel the same." He wills himself to say and a twinge of pain cracks through my heart but I remain strong.

"Liar," I snarl. "What are you so afraid of?" I take another step forward, so close that if I reached out, I could grab his hand in mine.

He shrugs and looks to the side, at the long line of evergreen trees that were more free than him, rooted into the frozen soil but still, alive and thriving. Far more than he'd ever be while chained to a throne. "Eris," I whisper and he shudders at the way I say his name. It was too intimate, it held none of the malice it often did when his father spat it, only heavy with adoration and guilt. "Eris look at me," I say and he steels his features, because my eyes were too much for him to bear, the eyes of the female he loves, and that horrifies him, because he cannot fool or trick me when I stare at him with those all-seeing eyes, cannot attempt to plot or ensnare when I look at him like that.

"I'm afraid of my father finding out," He confesses. "Terrified that if he discovers that something other than power makes me happy, he'd destroy it." His voice was as pure and raw as the fresh snow beneath our feet.

"We're seventeen, we shouldn't have to worry about that—" I begin but it was his turn to cut me off.

"But we're not normal kids, we will never be normal kids." He reached out and cupped my cheeks, and despite the negative temperatures, his palms were warm and soothing against my icy skin. "And I can't risk you."

"I'm a princess of my court, sole heir to the Winter Throne. To hurt me would be an act of war, he cannot touch me." I claim.

"No, but he will find a way. He will cleave us and tear us apart until you hate me." He claims and I frown.

"That will never happen." I shake my head, refusing the idea of ever hating the male that stood in front of me.

"Won't it?" His hands on my face press firmer, stressing his point. "We're heirs of opposing courts, inevitably we will become enemies." He explains.

"But we could be the ones to form an alliance," A fool's dream. The autumn court was too prideful to accept any other court, and the winter court would never ally with fire bringers. "Can't we just be stupid and reckless and young, for once?" I plead. "Even for only a few moments?" I say and reach forward, gripping his tunic in my fist.

"Is that too much to ask for?" I murmur and his eyes soften.

"Far too much," He replies, his warm breath mingling with mine. "But I'm willing to give it to you," He says, his voice steady and warm like crackling embers to a recently put-out fire.

"As a friend-anniversary present?" I taunt him with a teasing smirk and he shakes his head.

"You don't know how to shut up do you?" He drawls and I smile.

"I can think of one way," I suggest, stumbling forward and his breath hitched as I rose onto my toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. I pulled back with a soft smile and that was enough to send him reeling. He advanced forward, his fingers singing with heat against my cheeks as his lips, finally, met mine.

It was innocent and gentle, and a little awkward, but gods was it perfect. The kiss alone heated my entire body, all the way down to my fingertips which were still clutching his green tunic. Realizing I was still gripping him I relaxed my hands and allowed them to slip up his chest, around to the nape of his neck so I could pull him closer and encase myself in his warmth while he deepened our kiss.

My stomach clenched when he pulled away, it was quick, only a moment— exactly what I had asked for. I hadn't realized I was now going to crave those moments until the end of me.

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and I knew it wasn't the cold that tinged them. "You ruined my makeup," I say, reaching up and wiping away the smear of cosmetics on his bottom lip.

"But you look beautiful," He mumbled, too caught up in the action of me so casually touching his lips. I lift my eyes up to his gold-flecked ones and smile wickedly.

"That kiss really did a number on you," I taunt because it was the only way to stop myself from being greedy and kissing him again, and again, and again until I could recall the exact feel of his lips from memory.

He looked to the side, attempting to get rid of his blush, forget about how perfectly he slotted against you.

Then his brows bunch in concern and my spine stiffens with alarm. "What is it?" I ask, looking out towards the empty forest.

"Your dog already got lost." He grumbled and I relaxed, my shoulders slumping.

"He's your dog," I stress. "And he's not lost. He's hunting." I say proudly and Eris casts me an unbelieving glance. I smile at him and press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Come on," I take his hand in mine and drag him through the frosted-over forest. "We have to catch at least a few squirrels before leaving," I say and he mumbles a string of curses but follows me anyway.

We had been crouched behind a bush for so long now that my legs began to ache from my position. Eris was fletching an arrow leaning back against a tree, his auburn hair blending in with the trunk of the redwood. I admire his pale features, his sharp nose, and high cheekbones. His amber eyes that were flecked with gold if you were close enough to notice. I was just about to blurt something foolish about how handsome he was, when the crunch of snow sent my ears peeking up.

Eris froze too, becoming alert and peering over the side of the tree as I drew my arrow from its quiver and nocked it against my bowstring. The sound of steps comes from behind, straight at us, growing faster.

I whirl around and aim at the grey creature bounding towards Eris.

The smokehound pup trotted towards him with a limp rabbit in his maw. The hound chuffs then drops it at Eris' feet as an offering. "Aw, he's brought you a gift," I beam wildly. "You should turn the rabbit into jerky and treat him with it. He'd love that," I say while patting the pup's dark coat.

His gaze lingers on you for a long moment, analyzing your gentle features when you look at the dog. "Maybe I will," He mutters and I look over to him with a soft smile. "I think we're done for the day," I say and stand upright, stretching my legs as I do so. He does the same, the pup looking up at him with his tail wagging excitedly. Eris bent down and patted the dog's head and the hound began running circles around the both of us.

Eris shakes his head with feigned annoyance. I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him forward, right into me. His arms wrapped around my waist on instinct, stabilizing himself with his hands planted on my torso— and even through all the layers of clothing, I could feel the warmth emanating from him. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, right?" I tilt my head up at him and he nods with a soft smile.

"Mhm, bring Flynt," I say and he raises his brows.

"Is that his name, now?" He asks, looking down at the dog weaving between us happily.

"You said I could pick," I shrug innocently and his smile grows.

"Flynt it is," He nods, then leans forward and places a soft, precious kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Princess." He whispers against my frosty skin and I nod, taking a wobbly step back and turning away towards my Court before I got the idea in my head that I could find us an empty cabin to live in until we were old and rotting.

I don't bother with goodbyes and continue my march towards the Mountain Home. But I did look back, just once, to see Eris and his new obedient pet walking alongside each other back towards the realm of crackling bonfires and falling leaves.

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