#it was like it synced with my heartbeat and i felt it in my SOUL

[shadowwolf146]

Just had my first VIP switchfoot concert!!!! Worth every penny to be up close to the stage! Even if I wish the vip went longer/we got to ask more questions, there were a lot of people so I get why not. Still I had the BEST time!! When they come back here again I'm gonna go for sure!!! I'll post pics tomorrow I gotta go to bed lol

[tlou-reid]

Security ✿ Aaron Hotchner

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: reader calls aaron just as he arrives home from a case, needing a savior in her own home. aka baked goodies part 4

♡ WARNINGS: reader has the flu, criminal minds-esque violence, mentions of haley and her death, reader takes medicine for the flu and eats a frozen croissant and i do not wish to offend the French, not edited but when is my stuff ever?

𖤣 Part one here! 𖥧 Part two here! 𖡼 Part three here! ⚘

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

The flu. Of course, just as winter was finally wrapping up, your sniffles start and your throat starts to burn. The cold was no longer nipping at your nose, but you were still shivering at night. The fever you’d started a day ago didn’t feel like it was going away any time soon, so you’d decided to head to the urgent care a few minutes away.

The doctor had been surprised when your flu test came back positive, considering it was late march. “You’re probably the last positive we’ll get until thanksgiving time,” he had remarked as he signed the prescription for you. With a sigh, you made your way to the check out counter, got your prescription and headed to your car. You barely got your key in the ignition when your phone stayed to ring.

“Hi honey,” Aaron’s whisper filled your car as your phone connected via bluetooth. “Hi baby,” you mustered up all of the energy you had to coo at him, wanting to match his energy. He knew you weren’t feeling the best, so any energy you could give him was enough.

You swore he could feel the things you felt sometimes. You knew there was science backing the idea that your heartbeats could sync up, but this was a whole different level. Aaron knew you in ways no one else did, and no one else ever would. You’d been together for almost six months now, and you could very easily picture a lifetime with him. It was almost as if your souls were tied together, creating the most beautiful knot you’d ever seen. One that could only be named love.

“Feeling any better?” His voice was gentle, but you could tell he was keeping quiet. He was probably still in the Chicago Precinct, finishing up a very gruesome case. “I am now that I’m talking to you,” you flirted before breaking into a coughing fit. Your cover was blown. “Are you driving?” Aaron asks, ignoring your flirtation. “I have to get home, Aaron.” You were too tired for his overprotectiveness.

Once again changing the subject, he asks the million dollar question, “What did the doctor say?”

You winced at some dickhead behind you beeping at the car next to you as you answered, “The flu, he gave me some medicine.” You heard Aaron let out a sigh on the other side, “It’s spring time,” he declared, just as puzzled as you were. “I know, that’s what I said.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” You knew that would be his response. There’s nothing he can do but wish you well from about 11 hours away. He wished he could hop on the jet and come home to cuddle the virus out of you. But he couldn’t. He was here, in Chicago, catching evil criminals, and you were back home. You didn’t answer his sentiment, instead opting to sit in comfortable silence on the phone with you. He was alone in the conference room, mapping out similarities from the victims, so he put his phone on speaker and got back to work.

This was a comforting action for Aaron. It gave him some sort of peace he was always seeking when he was away on cases. The hairs on the back of his neck lowered and the pit in his stomach closed. Just a little bit, but the pit closed some.

A few minutes later, you were pulling into your driveway. You couldn’t help but peek out of your rear view mirror. It was as dramatic as a romance movie, the way you longingly looked at Aaron’s home, as if your gaze could spawn him in his front yard.

“Hey Aar,” You said, unable to hide how tired you were, “I’m home.” You couldn’t see but Aaron nodded, knowing that meant you were about to hang up. “Get some rest, please. And don’t forget your medicine.”

“I’m going to bed as soon as I get in the door. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise.” You switched your phone to speaker, disconnecting it from the car and turning the car off. “I’m still going to worry,” Aaron guaranteed. “I know, but try to not.”With a sigh, he agreed“I can do that, I love you.”

Saying “I love you” was something that came had come unexpectedly easy to Aaron. He’d thought after all of the loss he’d faced of people he loved, there would be a hesitancy, a fear that he’d buried somewhere dark and deep. But it wasn’t. It came easy and truthfully, just as being in love with you did.

It was surprising to you how often, how delicately, and how meaningfully Aaron said it. It carried so much weight when he said it, it was a promise every single time. A promise to be there to say it again and again, a promise to fight through whatever awful things are thrown at him to be the best version of himself for you, a promise to be there for you, a promise to be the man you deserve.

Aaron Hotchner was a serious man, always had been and always will be. But he’s especially serious about the people he loves, you and Jack the most.

“I love you too, goodnight.” You joked as you stepped into your home. “Goodnight, get some rest.” Aaron was smiling as he hung up.

You’re not sure how long you slept. It had to have been a few hours, considering it was dark when you woke up. Your head was pounding and and your stomach was rumbling.

You slowly dragged yourself out of bed, fighting through the deep ache in your bones. You couldn’t understand why you were both hot and cold at the same time, or why the ringing in your ears wouldn’t go away. You, despite all of the rest you’d gotten, were feeling about a thousand times worse than you were yesterday.

You stopped at your sock drawer, pulling out the thickest, fuzziest pair you could find, before hobbling down to the kitchen. You’d just gone grocery shopping, so you were sure there was something you could throw into the microwave.

As you rummaged through your fridge like an injured raccoon, your phone buzzed from its spot on the couch, where you’d tossed it after you came in. A text of Aaron lit up the screen, ‘Just got back to the precinct. We just have to fill out some paperwork and then we’ll be on the jet home. See you soon.’ it read.

After taking a few, small bites of the frozen croissant you’d found in the back of your freezer, you responded to Aaron’s text with a simple ‘be safe, love u’, energy level matching what you were currently feeling.

Then you headed back up to bed. There was some kind of uneasiness flowing through your veins, so you pulled up some mindless video to help you relax. You were sure it was just the medicine making you a little queasy, so you did your best to relax so you could sleep away the pounding in your head.

It took a while, about two and a half youtube video essays, but you did slowly drift off into an uncomfortable slumber.

Once again, you were unsure of how long you’d been asleep. You felt groggy, as if you could use a few more hours to truly feel good, even with the flu. You weren’t sure what woke you up, however.

It was dark out, so you reached for your phone to see if Aaron had made it home. ‘2:36’, the screen that was entirely too bright read. You signed, swiping down on your screen to show your notifications. A text from Aaron 35 minutes ago read, “Just got in the door. I bet you’re asleep, give me a call when you wake up. I’ll be up for a while.”

Every muscle in your body hurt, you pushed through for just 13 of them to form a smile at his care of you.

Just as your hand hovered over the call button on his contact, you heard your front door swing open with a bang.

Your head immediately perked up. You inched your way back toward headboard, trying to put yourself in a position as far away from the sound as possible.

Your breathing stopped as you listened. “Hurry the fuck up, we got two more to go to tonight.” You heard an unfamiliar voice call out. It was obvious they were trying to be quiet, albeit unsuccessfully.

Without hesitation, your finger hit the call button. It rang twice before Aaron’s groggy voice was coming through the receiver, “Hey honey, how are you-”

You cut him off with a desperate whisper of his name, “Aaron,” He was stricken with worry immediately. You were sick, so sick. You’d been running almost a 103 degree forever. Despite your medicine, there was no way you’d be able to speak with such conviction in your voice already.

“Aaron,” you repeated with as you squeezed your eyes shut, “Someone’s here.”

Aaron’s heart stopped in his chest. The last time someone entered the house of a person he loved, they never came back out of it. Haley’s last moments alive were spent with someone who was in her house when he shouldn’t have been. And now that was happening to you.

“Where?” Aaron asked as he shuffled around, moving to his gun safe. He quickly input the code, checked the safety and began to make his way to your house. He could hear Jackson barking in the background, doing his best to protect you.

You heard a crash somewhere downstairs, and decided you couldn’t sit anymore. Faster than someone with the flu should be able to, you stood up to move to the bathroom attached to bedroom.

“They’re downstairs, please hurry.” He could hear the fear in your voice, the way you were choking back tears. Jackson’s bark was getting progressively louder had Aaron’s heart speeding up.

Aaron didn’t answer as he approached the door. His end of the call went silent, before you heard your door crash open again. “FBI,” his loud voice boomed through the house. Even Jackson paused at that, standing with his fur perked up and his eyes focused on the door.

Aaron then yelled and you could tell it was directed towards you, “Call the police!”

You did as you were told, hanging up the phone call to dial 911. You quickly explained the situation and gave your address to the dispatcher. You told her that Aaron was here, he was an FBI agent, he was seemingly making sure the intruders weren’t leaving, and to please, please, please, not let him get hurt.

Her calming voice assured her that she wouldn’t.

You sat on the bathroom floor, shaking, running your hands through Jackson’s fur as you waited for the police to arrive. You wished Aaron could handle it. That he had the power to arrest them and it could all be over. But he didn’t, so you were stuck here, waiting, shaking.

It felt like an eternity, but was probably twenty minutes, but you heard the sirens as they pulled up. Once the cops were in the door, Aaron informed them of what was going on, and then made a beeline to your room. The door was still shut from when you went to bed, but not locked. Aaron decided to lecture you later.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room as Jackson creeped out. Aaron gave him a few pats before following where he’d came from.

“Aaron,” he heard your tired voice call out. You were definitely crying, even if you hadn’t noticed it yet. “It’s me, honey,” he answered, finally finding you in the dark. He sat down next to you on the cold tile. He pulled you into his chest, completely enveloping you in nothing but Aaron.

You pressed your ear against his chest, searching for his heartbeat. You could hear how fast it was beating. The sound started to calm you down. As the adrenaline stopping running through you, the illness started to re-emerge.

Aaron didn’t speak as he held you. He held you until you stopped crying. He held you until your breathing evened out. He held you until you stopped shaking. He held you as Jackson curled up at your feet, also trying to protect you.

Ten minutes, then twenty minutes passed, then Aaron lost track of time. Still, he held you close with one arm, and gently combed his fingers through your hair with the other.

“You awake?” He whispered. “Mhm,” you replied. “Let’s go walk around the house.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his request. That was the last thing you wanted to do right now. Your bones hurt and you were scared of what could be lurking in the dark of your house.

“You won’t feel safe unless you know it’s clear.” You shook your head against him. “I won’t feel safe if you leave.” You promised him. Every word was true. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You knew every word of that was true, too.

“Can we go to your house tonight?” Somehow, you were even quieter. “Of course.”

Aaron moved to get up. He stepped over to flick on the lights and then help you up. You tried to ignore how lightheaded the shift in position made you feel, but stumbled as you got up. Aaron reached out, once again protecting you.

“Jackson’s not going to like being alone,” You sighed, with sad eyes. You didn’t want to leave him, but you weren’t going to feel safe. Against every part of his body wanting to tell you he’s just a dog and that’d he be okay, Aaron found himself saying, “He can come, too.”

“You don’t want dogs in your house.” You recalled the countless times Aaron complained about the dog hair. “I’ll make an exception tonight, you’re sick.” He justified. He could feel your body relax in his arms. With Aaron and Jackson by yourself, you knew you’d feel safe and secure. “Thank you, honey.” Aaron smiled at you using his favorite nickname for you.

“Well, let’s walk around and then we’ll head over.” You nod, following his lead. Aaron holds your hand as he guides you through the house, checking every nook and cranny he could think of. Jackson stayed right by your side.

As you made it to the bottom floor of the house, you could see two police cars still sitting, and two cops standing out front talking. You knew you’d have to give a statement or something eventually, but you were hoping Aaron could pull some strings due to how exhausted your body was.

“All clear,” You remark as you finish looking over the house. You’d have to replace your door handle on your front door, and your living room was in complete disarray, but you knew it’d be much worse if Aaron hadn’t come when he did. He was your savior tonight.

Aaron pulls you close again, relishing in your skin being against his. He was coming down from his own adrenaline high and all he wanted to do was hold you, so he could know that you were safe and alive, and opportunity that he didn’t have with Haley.

Something deep inside of him was gratified tonight. He knew that he could never replace Haley, that the love and the fear and the heartbreak he felt for her would always linger and would never, ever go away. But he also knew that he was a different man. He was a better man. A better father, a better lover. He knew that wherever Haley was, he was proud of the man Aaron had become. The man you helped him become.

Aaron pressed a kiss to your forehead, squeezed your shoulder, and then said, “Let’s go home.” You didn’t have to remind him about Jackson, as he moved to the closet that you kept his leash in. As if he could feel the heaviness in the air, Jackson didn’t put up an excited fight to put his leash on.

Aaron held your hand in his right, and Jackson’s leash in his left as he guided the two of you outside. You three took a few paces into the yard, before he was handing you the leash, mumbling an “I’ll be right back,” before walking to where the police were lingering.

You couldn’t hear what was going on, but you saw Aaron shake their hand after talking to them, and then he returned to your side. “They said you can go to the station in the morning to talk to them since I gave a statement. I told them you have the flu, so maybe we can get it pushed back more.” You nodded at his words, and slipped your hand back in his. Aaron ran his thumb along the soft skin of your hand as you walked across the street to his house.

Once you got inside, Aaron let you shower as he found a bowl that Jackson could drink from. The hot water helped your muscles relax, and unstuffed your nose. It felt good to be breathe for a couple minutes.

Aaron was already in bed when you made in to the room. Jackson was curled up on the floor at the end of the bed, softly snoring until you opened the door. “Come here,” Aaron gestured to the empty side of the bed. You complied and he pulled you tight against his side.

Even with the ache in your bones and burn in your throat returning, this was best you’d felt all week.

You tried your best to sleep. When that didn’t work, you tried your best to at least lay still so Aaron could sleep. When that also didn’t work, you sat up in the bed, frustrated. All you’d wanted to do all day was sleep, and now your body was still reeling from your house being broken into, so you could.

“You alright?” Aaron asked, hand moving to run along your thigh. “I can’t sleep,” You mumbled. You felt Aaron nod, before his hands slid up your body, guiding you by your torso to lay back down next to him. He pressed a kiss against your shoulder once he could reach it. “Let’s just lay here, then.”

You nodded, wiggling closer to him. His hand kept moving along your thigh, and you used it to slow your breathing down, matching it to the movement.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like that before Aaron broke the silence, “What would you think about moving in with me?” It was quiet, almost a whisper. It was easily the most timid you’d ever heard him be.

“Can Jackson come?” Aaron laughed at your response, a little less nervous than he’d previously been. “Of course,” he responded. It was quiet for a little bit as you pondered the question, before you replied, “If you talk to Jack and he’s okay with it, then I will consider it.”

Aaron nodded, know that was the best answer he could’ve received given your illness and how late it was. “Okay,” he replied, pressing one more kiss to your shoulder before laying back down next to you.

[aesteries]

 *ੈ𑁍༘⋆  ─ ❝everbloom❞ ─  jacaerys velaryon and tyrell!reader. | the unforgettable gift of a first-time lover.

❝If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.❞

WARNINGS: attempt at fluff smut, everything threatens to choke jacaerys, he needs new lungs, mentions of arranged marriages, baela and unnamed betrothed are aware, reader is from house tyrell but with no description of features other than having breasts, friends and first love to strangers, doomed, first-time sex for both of them, loss of virginity as a gift, semi-public oral (m&f), unprotected p in v, love marking, worship.

words: 9.9k

Winter had fast approached King's Landing, the barely-felt chill seeping through the castle’s stone walls in an attempt at soothing the usual humid heat of the capital, like a faint veil compared to what it could do just a few hours on dragonback away. The days started late now and were much shorter, with a dim sun struggling to rise over the horizon on the morrow. Its sibling, the moon, chased after it as it barely reached its peak across the sky, a mocking younger brother eager to ruin its sibling. The shift of the season had brought a different effect on the family, as the usual venom underneath seemingly innocent words had been packed away with the autumn leaves and spring’s blooming flowers. 

The empty chambers of the southern wing of the castle would soon be filled with life, laughter, and music with the visit of members of Great Houses as they paid their seasonal visits to celebrate the holy days of the Faith of the Seven with their liege. To Jace, though, winter brought something completely different. Despite the blood of the dragon that ran through his veins and ignited himself, the lick of his winter nameday sent shivers down his spine. 

Ten and eight.

It would all change for him in the coming year—a turning point, for better or worse; he could not decide yet. Now a man grown, his long-awaited union with his betrothed would be formalised with the blessings of a grand ceremony in front of the important people of the seven kingdoms. A wedding would open doors to new responsibilities, tasks, and worries. This rite of passage, the bounding of a ring on his finger and his soul with another, would also take him to a new place in the royal council, where he was to assume a more important role, a heavier voice over esteemed lords, as he began to prepare for his future. 

It was what he wanted all along, or at least, it was what he had been raised to desire. So, on the very day of his nameday feast, as he leaned against one of the silent corridors of the Red Keep with his eyes falling over the training yard to watch his younger siblings quarrel, he could not help but feel the anxiety build in the pit of his stomach, an annoying itch that he could not ignore.

His brown eyes, as intense as fire, were fixed on the two small frames that moved in sync with the older men, white hair caught in the light as the sun began to dance over the sky while the moon teased its appearance. Aegon and Viserys, sons of their mother’s second marriage, were the very image of Old Valyria, with pure dragon-blooded ancestry on their skin. Despite the immense love he felt for them, a nagging doubt crept into his mind—would one of them eventually turn against him when he claimed the throne, fuelled by the whispers and speculation surrounding his true lineage? He forced himself to take a deep breath, suppressing the bitter taste of anxiety and the lump that often formed in his throat, threatening to choke the air out of him.

Jacaerys had been so consumed by the uncertainty of his future, his blood, and his life that he failed to notice as a second heartbeat approached him slowly, a quiet rustle of fancy clothes while the figure tiptoed around corners and down the deserted corridor where he remained. Normally, his senses would have been on high alert, but this particular day, his mind was elsewhere, making him vulnerable to the sneakiest of attacks. The delicate figure moved closer with an almost mischievous glint in their eye, savouring the element of surprise they had over the young prince. 

A hand crept forward, slender index finger extended, poised to deliver a playful jab to his ribcage. And then, the figure exclaimed, “Boo!”

Jacaerys’ soul was yanked out of his body, or so it felt like, leaving him disoriented as he spun around with indignation, ready to confront whoever had dared to disturb his daydreaming. But instead of finding a scowling, unfamiliar face, his gaze fell upon a vision that had him choking on the very air he was breathing. It was her, beauty and grace, an everblooming flower. His heart raced at the mere sight of his first love, the secret that he guarded fiercely, his one and only. The memories of the countless summers they spent together came flooding back as he set his eye on hers. As children, the two had spent two moons every year together after their mothers formed a strong bond and brought the two families together. The nostalgic ache in Jacaerys' chest reminded him of the joy, the laughter, and the secrets they had shared.

Even now, no longer a child, her face still blossomed with that radiant smile that had first captivated him. Her cheeks flushed with the gentle touch of rose petals, a kiss of flowers on her skin. Her eyes, so vibrant and full of life, sparkled with mischief under the golden hour. The corner of her full lips twisted into that smile that always told the truth of her intentions, the playfulness of it all. She stood tall, taller than before, with her hands behind her back in perfect poise, as expected of a high-born lady. Her voice remained that sweet melody that soothed his heart, a song from the wind. "It is nice to see you again, my prince," she greeted him.

He curtsied with exaggerated flair, his eyes never straying from hers as his entire self relaxed in front of her, his worries slipping away with the winter breeze. ”My Lady Tyrell," he laughed.

Her response was immediate, infectious laughter bursting from her like a ray of sun making its way through a cloudy day. She had to cover her mouth to try and contain the radiant smile that threatened to take over her entire face, and he was quick to join in with her laugh, their voices echoing through the empty corridor like the misbehaved children they used to be. He took a step forward, his arms opening wide to welcome his girl in a warm embrace, and for a brief moment, they were lost in the joy of their reunion. It had been a long year without each other, and exchanging letters was nothing compared to having her in his arms. Her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin—the stinky dragon, as she would say, had become her most favourite smell in the world. When they finally drew apart, their eyes met, a loving gaze.

“Happy nameday, you dirt-eater.” Her voice trembled as she could barely hide her excitement. The butterflies in her stomach took flight, fluttering with anticipation, nothing in comparison to the wild dragons of the prince before her. He cleared his throat, shoulders squaring as he pulled himself together, the embarrassingly dumb smile still plastered on his face. She brought forward a mysterious box that she had been hiding behind her back and away from his attention, wrapped in delicate pieces of black cloth and with a green velvet ribbon keeping it together. The wrapping could have used some work, as it was obviously put together by her own hand, but that only added to the charm. The weight of the box was unexpected, and as he accepted it, the object inside shifted, its contents rattling softly against the sides.

His hand quivered like a weak leaf as he grasped the delicate box, and the words barely escaped his lips, "A gift, my flower?" His voice trembled as he whispered, "Your presence is enough to illuminate my world.”

Jacaerys gazed into the colour of her eyes, the tidal waves of memories crashing over him like the shores of Dragonstone, a reminder of home, taking him back to the earliest days of their friendship. He could recall their initial encounter, an awkward meeting forced by their mothers, which, in the end, marked the beginning of a bond that would blossom into something more beautiful. The countless afternoons they spent playing, laughing, and bickering when they fought like the children that they were, the many falls and scrapes that left them bruised, and the quiet comfort when words were unnecessary. The innocence of those days had been kind to them, allowing them to unfold together like the petals of a flower. And who would forget that one life-changing night when, at the tender age of ten and two, they stole each other away to the darkest corners to experience the love they witnessed from the adults with inexperienced kisses and hugs that were kept secret from the prying eyes of others?

And after all these years, as they continued to steal glances and kisses and love only they could understand, the emotions between them intensified, refusing to be extinguished even as their moments together began to grow forbidden and inappropriate as they reached maturity. 

She flashed a confident smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief, as she reached forward to unveil the gift that would forever bind them together. "I had to," she said, her voice low and husky, "so you'll always carry a piece of me with you, even as we take on our separate journeys into adulthood."

He tugged on the ribbon with extreme care, his eyes widening as the wrapping made way to reveal the treasure within. The box creaked open, allowing him to set his gaze on the stunning dagger that was nestled in a bed of white velvet. The handle was crafted from a vibrant green glass that matched the scales of his dragon, and a bright red rose was suspended within the glass, a symbol of their unbreakable bond. A dragon and a rose, together forever.

She took a step closer, enveloping him in the familiar flowery perfume that he adored, making his senses tingle. She pointed to the rose with a delicate finger, her eyes searching for him. “A little bit of you and a little bit of me,” she smiled, “so you never forget me.” The dagger was the perfect representation of both of them, and he would treasure it with his life. 

“I would never be capable of forgetting you.” He whispered, his voice broken with emotion. The weight of her gesture was still shaking his heart as he set the gift aside on the railing behind him, freeing his hands to take hold of his beloved once again and bring her against his chest for another warm embrace. Her body moulded perfectly against his, and her arms wrapped around his middle as he continued to praise her, “You are my flower.”

They knew that it was dangerous, forbidden, wrong even. They were promised to others, bound by duties and law far greater than themselves, yet the feeling of being in each other's arms was difficult to compare, intoxicating, a sweet temptation. The young lady could feel his heartbeat as she rested against his chest, a soothing melody while Jace buried his face in her hair, wishing he never had to let go of her. He felt like a bee stuck in honey, unable to tear himself away from the sweetness of their embrace. The dagger was long forgotten as they lost themselves in the tender embrace, feeling her love as his most precious gift. The warmth of their bodies intertwined, and the world around them melted away, leaving only the softness of her skin and the rhythmic beating of their hearts. He leaned down, his breath caressing the shell of her ear, and whispered, “You look more beautiful every time I look at you.”

She pulled back from his embrace, her eyes locked on his as her face flushed with the most gentle of colours at his compliment. Her soft and gentle hands cupped his face lovingly, bringing him to her for a brush of their lips. Their mouths parted over each other, overwhelmed by their need for each other. Jace’s arms encircled her waist, surrendering to her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing their kiss to escalate into an all-consuming dance of romance. 

He was powerless against her lips, giving in to their sweetness, drawing him. His kisses travelled to the corner of her mouth, teasing a gentle path down her jawline to the irresistible softness of her skin as he left a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. Eventually, he found himself at the sensual curve of her chest, ghosting over her collarbones, aching to move further down the neckline. She knew his longing too well, all the signs that he yearned for more, and she felt the same way. Yet, Jacaerys was a gentleman, and he would never be the one to cross the line between them. The decision, then, rested with her, and she was willing to take the risk. With a subtle tilt of her head, she created space for him, her slender fingers weaving through his curls as she drew him closer, his face disappearing into the softness of her chest, nestled between the curves that spilt over the edge of her gown.

He took a deep, sharp breath as his fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress, his heart racing like a runaway horse, pounding painfully inside of his chest. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remember that she deserved respect, that she should not be in his mind the way that she was. But then, he heard a sound that was like nothing he had ever heard before—a soft, angelic moan that sent a shiver down his spine. The sound made the sweetest of melodies seem dull in comparison, an intoxicating sound that consumed him. He needed to hear it again; he needed more of it.

Completely under the charm of her music, his hand began its journey over the delicate curves of her waist and bodice. His fingers, trembling in an inexperienced dance, curled around the fabric to pull it downwards and reveal the promise of her form while his other hand wrested with the stubborn laces that kept her hidden away, tugging almost desperately for release. He needed to put his lips on her skin once again, to draw out that melody, to hear her. Her once steady breath now quickened, becoming shallow and laboured, her chest rising and falling as if her very being depended on the touch of his lips. The air was heavy with anticipation, his passion a tempest waiting to be freed.

At last, the laces gave up, and her breasts, heavy and eager, spilt forth from their confines. His lips claimed one of them, his tongue dancing across the tender flesh to taste the sweetness of her forbidden skin. A shiver ran through her, a delicious ache spreading through her body as the unfamiliar sensation ignited her senses, her core growing wetter and wetter, her thighs involuntarily pressing together. He could barely contain his desire. There was so much he wanted to do, so little time, so little space. For now, he would be content with this, with the soft gasps escaping her lips as he teased and tormented her. He broke free, his mouth seeking hers once more, while his hands, possessive and demanding, kneaded her breasts, his thumbs tracing circles over her hardened peaks.

"My prince..." Her voice was a barely audible whisper of lust, lost to the feeling of his mouth on her sensitive body. Her eyes seemed clouded, half-lidded and unfocused, lost in a sea of emotions that made it difficult to form coherent thoughts, yet her purpose remained clear. "Let me..." she struggled to start through her breathing, but her sentence remained unfinished as his lips crashed on hers once again in a fervent dance of open-mouthed kisses, the world fading away and leaving only the sweet, sweet sensation of their lips together.

Her hand, delicate in its dance, wandered down his torso, caressing the contours of his body, trailing over his hips until she finally found her way to the bulge that had formed at the front of his pants. It was his name-day celebration; he would be receiving many gifts, and she was determined to make hers stand out from the rest. She pulled back from his kiss, his lips chasing hers in an attempt to reconnect. He looked into her eyes and noticed that glint, that dangerous, mischievous smile across her face, her warning sign. She was plotting something, and he would be at her mercy.

She whispered a husky promise, her breath dancing across his ear: “Let me make you feel good, Jace.” The sight was the very image of sin itself, as the beautiful girl lowered herself on her knees for him, her bright eyes looking up into his with a wicked innocence.

She wasted no time, her fingers moving with calmness and precision as she navigated the threads that kept his breeches tightly over his hips. In stark contrast to him, who had awkwardly struggled with her laces, it was as if she had rehearsed this very moment, her hands moving with a practiced confidence that left him in the dust. In no time, his breeches had been lowered to his thighs alongside the small clothes that had covered him, the cold breeze brushing past his hardness.

He was a sight to behold, pulsing with life. A glistening sheen of pre-cum on the surface of his cock, tracing a path down the sides as he leaked in anticipation. His head was a shade of pink, bordering on an angry red as it demanded attention, and the sight sent shivers down her spine to ignite the fire in her core. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached out, her fingers taking his base and gently wrapping around him to feel him for the first time. Jace gasped, but he bit his lip to stop himself from making another sound, fearing he'd turn into a pathetic, whimpering mess in front of her. It was strange for the both of them, yet they were eager to see what this would bring. Slowly, she guided him towards her mouth.

He could not help the thunderous groan as her mouth engulfed his lenght, the sound so loud that it worried him that the people in the courtyard below might hear him. He reached back for the cold railing that was behind him, his knuckles turning white as he kept himself from falling to the ground at the new pleasure he had discovered. His eyes were squeezed shut, his chiselled features twisted as the intense heat surged through his body like a raging fire, consuming every fibre of his being.

She did not stop until she had taken his entire member, the salty tang coating her tongue as he entered her inch by inch, with the tip teasing the back of her throat. She could feel the threat of gagging, so she gently coaxed him back out and took on a rhythm. A dirtier, more sinful dance began, a symphony of fluids as she bobbed her head, taking him deep and pulling back to tease his swollen tip with her tongue. His body was a fountain, spilling forth a cascade of precum that trailed down her chin, neck, and chest, each drop a testament to her power over him.

Jace's soft moans spilt through the hand on his mouth, his sensitivity driving him to the brink of ecstasy with each lick and suck. His body contorted, his hips eager to push deeper into her mouth, desperate for the delicious torture she gave him.

Her hand joined, stroking the shaft when it left her mouth, moving softly over the wet saliva left behind from her mouth. Her eyes moved up, such a sinful sight for both of them, and met with his. Jace could feel the promise of fire burning away at the pit of his stomach, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the sounds of her mouth as she swallowed him to the base and brought him right back in a new pace, quickening by the second and encouraged by the pathetic sounds that left his mouth. His tip teased the back of her throat with a strange tickle, yet she did not mind and continued to take as much of him as she could and bury him to the very end. With a strangled groan, he reached his breaking point, his body convulsing as he released his seed over her. It coated her face, neck, and chest as she pulled herself back from his pulsating cock, dripping cum as the prince left himself be consumed by his orgasm. 

He was swept away to celestial realms, and his eyelids squeezed shut with an intensity that bordered on pain, his eyebrows furrowed. Every muscle in his face was contorted, twisted by an overwhelming emotion that had taken over his entire being. The air seemed to vibrate with his ragged gasps as he struggled to refill his lungs, his body slowly descending back to earth. As his eyes fluttered open, his gaze drifted downwards, drinking in the breathtaking sight before him.

He found her even more beautiful, a twisted sort of beauty, marked by his possession. Her skin, glistening with his seed, was proof of his pleasure.

Jacaerys quickly lowered himself, reaching for the crimson cape that draped over his shoulders as he was brought back to reality. He took his time, savouring the moment as he wiped away the remnants of his passion. His shaky fingers lingered on her breasts, enjoying the gentle bounce as he pressed against them to clean off her skin. "You shouldn't have done that, my lady," he murmured, his voice low and husky, slightly wavering from the pleasure he had felt. 

"Why not, my prince?" she replied as her finger wiped some of the remains on the corner of her mouth.

He felt the weight of expectation on his shoulders, the grip of duty around his neck, as he struggled to find the words. It was not proper, he wanted to say; it is not meant to be; it is wrong. So many words swirled in his mind, yet he could not convey the message. He could not form the words to say that what they had done had been a mistake because deep inside he felt that it was not. He was bound to marry his cousin, Baela, in a strategic union while she was promised to a lord of another prominent house, yet as they stood together, bathed in the glow of each other’s presence, the ties that had been made for them seemed to burn into insignificance, overtaken by the hum of their forbidden bond. 

She gazed into his eyes, clouded by his torment, duty and passion struggling to dominate the other. With a tender gesture, she cradled his face in her hands once again, her lips uttering a gentle whisper of his name, "Jacaerys...". His eyes brimmed with tears, perhaps not of sadness, but out of frustration that he fought to conceal. The longing in his heart was palpable—he yearned for her with his entire being, yet the gods had forbidden their love with a cruel fate that taunted them. In a matter of weeks, they would be in someone else's arms. She was bound to a man she did not know, and he, to a woman who couldn't claim his heart. 

But for now, they could find comfort in each other’s lips.

The palace was buzzing with excitement as people gathered to celebrate the day of the heir's firstborn son. Jacaerys was overwhelmed by the attention, sitting at the centre of the grand feast with everyone fixed on him. The sound of laughter and chatter and music gave him a pulsating headache, and he had no choice but to ignore it as the many lords and ladies came to pay respects, bowing and introducing each other before returning to their seats. He had to sit through all of the greetings and listen to the repetitive wishes for his health and happiness. He sat stiffly between his mother, Queen Rhaenyra, and his cousin and betrothed, Princess Baela, who chatted incessantly, trying to engage him in conversation, completely unaware of his discomfort.

He was a pathetic man, he decided, as he felt the bitter gust of jealousy sweeping over him every time his eyes were drawn to that specific corner of the room to see her laughing with the man she was to marry. He couldn’t help but wonder if their encounter had already been forgotten as she seemed so carefree while his manhood still pulsated with the ghost of her mouth. His mind constantly replayed the moment, over and over, tormenting him and leaving him aching for another taste.

"Jacaerys." Baela's voice cut through the air, stern and with an obvious anger that had him whipping his head back to face her. Her features were twisted in a deep frown, her eyes blazing with the hint of fire that seemed to burn him away with her mere gaze. "I see how you're looking at her." her voice was low, not wanting anyone around them to hear her words, "Everyone can see."

He let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he began to explain, "It's just—" 

But Baela wouldn't let him finish, her interruption swift, like the stab of a knife.

"No." She snapped, and her voice was like the crack of thunder that shook him awake in the middle of the night. "I will not go through the embarrassment of an affair, Jace. This must end before we are wed, or there will be consequences." Her words were an obvious threat, making him wonder what exactly she meant by that. What else could she do? She already knew that they were destined to fail, to wither away, and she just had to get through one last night before she was out of their life, hopefully, forever. She hated doing that to him, but Baela knew that she was as tied as Jacaerys in this situation, and she would not become the laughingstock of the court.

But his flower commanded attention with the dress of deep crimson that she wore, decorated with intricate gold details and a daringly low neckline that drew the eyes of the room to her beauty. It was impossible to look away from her; his gaze was stuck on the way her locks cascaded down her shoulders and back, with a sprinkling of jewels falling over her forehead to add to the captivating presence. She must have felt the weight of his eyes, he thought, as she slowly turned towards him, and their eyes locked, which made him feel impossibly close to her. The rest of the room faded like mist, insignificant.

He pushed his chair back, the wooden legs scraping against the stone floor, and rose from the table, his family's eyes upon him. As he walked around the table, his boots clicked on the floor, and he caught a glimpse of Baela's questioning gaze, but he dared her to speak out against him as he raised his head. His legs carried him towards the far end of the hall where his lady sat with her family. The members of House Tyrell ceased their conversation, their faces sombre, like if a shadow had fallen over them, as he halted beside their table, his hand extended in invitation to the youngest daughter of Lord Tyrell. Next to her, her own betrothed's face flushed, but he couldn't refuse a prince of the realm, no matter how awkward the situation. The eyes of the men met for a second, and there was a clear rivalry in them, but one was declared the winner by the gentle touch of her hand.

"A dance, my lady?" he asked, his deep voice ringing out across the silent corner, his eyes locked on hers, expectation on his face.

She didn't need to be asked twice. The prince grasped her hand, pulling her into the whirlwind of dancers on the crowded floor. As they took their position, his hand settled comfortably on her hip, a gesture that felt like second nature. 

Everything seemed effortless with him by her side, and she could not explain why being with him made her feel that way. So intimate, so loving, so carefree, and yet so heartbreaking. They spun across the floor in a perfect dance, just like they had done since they met, and now no longer children. They laughed together as one made a mistake, stepping over the foot of the other, but the joy was overflowing between them. They must have danced for too long, because the couples around them shifted, came, and went while they remained the same. As he looked at her, he was once again hit by the realisation of their relationship, and there was a sinking feeling in his chest. Yet he was forced to push it aside for her, who looked radiant with her smile as he twirled her around once more. As they swayed to the rhythm, the girl leaned in close, her chest pressed against Jace's, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have another surprise for you."

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he played along. "What more could you possibly give me?" 

For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and Jace was captivated by the intensity of her gaze. It was as if the very fire of candlelight burnt behind her eyes, melting his heart and awakening feelings he'd never experienced before. The back of her hand dared to caress the skin of his cheek in a scandalous public gesture as her lips curled, a dangerous smirk.

Her words stopped him in his tracks.

"Tonight..." Her voice was soft. "I will gift myself to you, and you will be the first to watch as I come undone completely beneath your touch."

And when the music had reached its climax, she slipped through the sea of dancers, her figure consumed by the crowd in a fascinating disappearing act. The sounds, colours, and sensations blurred around him as he frantically scanned the room, searching for a glimpse of her and her gown, but she was gone, a petal gone with the wind. 

A whirlpool of emotions destroyed him, a dangerous mixture of worry, excitement, and fear. His heart was racing like a free stallion running through the open vale as his mind went around the whispers of his flower. The gentle touch of her hand on his arm, the rustle of her gown, the smile... the secrets. He found himself dragged back to his position within the rest of the royal family. He stood frozen, lost in time, completely unaware of the eyes of his family on him until he was nudged forward to prepare to give his speech to his guests. His heart sank with her absence; instead, he locked eyes with one of her sisters, whose knowing glint told him she was aware of her younger sister’s mischief. The sister's piercing gaze seemed to hold a secret message; she was silently daring him to wonder what kind of adventure she had concocted, leaving him to sweat it out in front of the crowd.

His cock stirred.

Jacaerys muttered a quiet curse, his posture twisting and turning uncomfortably in an attempt to fix himself as his mother’s words droned on. Lucerys, catching sight of his brother’s situation, had to stifle a laugh behind his hand while he innocently moved one of their youngest siblings to the front of the family to cover the heir’s decency. Yet, it continued on, with well-wishers and bootlickers taking turns to congratulate him and blessing him on his coming marriage. While Baela did not seem to mind the attention, he felt like the earth had opened up to swallow him whole. His mind raced with thoughts of escape, his face burning with embarrassment.

As the crowd finally bgan to disperse, he made a hasty exit with a mumbled farewell before he stumbled down the stairs with a stiff posture, each step feeling like a thousand stones had been poured into his boots. The dark hallway enveloped him, but the cold wind of night did little against the fire underneath his skin. His mind raced, everything he ever knew and wanted taking over his thoughts. Was she waiting for him in his chambers, hiding from the multitude of people? He needed clarity.

But he could not deny that raw, primal urge that coursed through his veins. He wondered if what he felt was that ‘masculine power' that Daemon had once joked about with him; of course, at the time he did not understand, but now he knew. If she was offering herself, he would take her and give in to the sin that was his desire. He craved her, all of her and more. Her body was his forbidden treasure, and his lips his map. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming reality: no one in this world deserved her more than he did. She belonged to him, and no one else would ever fill the void she occupied in his heart.

The heavy doors to his chambers creaked open, almost a mocking sound as they parted in desperation, drawn back by anxious hands. The room was shrouded in darkness, except for the solitary candle that barely illuminated the space and the sheer curtains holding the full power of the light of night back. Yet, amidst the gloom, a sweet aroma danced through the air, transporting him to a memory of her. The scent of flowers clung to him, tenderly reminding him of the warmth of her skin.

His deep voice, heavy with longing, echoed through the room. “You left me.”

A gentle hum, a teasing sound, was her response. “I wanted you to think about me.”

The words hung in the air, a challenge, a provocation. “I think about you every waking moment,” he replied, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions.

In response, the curtains shifted, and the silvery light of the moon spilt into the room, its radiance highlighting her beauty like a work of art. The dress she had been wearing lay discarded, abandoned over a chair, and in its place, she wore a slip of silk with a green velvet ribbon that tied at the front of her body, a gift, just like the dagger she had given him earlier in the day. She had planned this all along. His flower pushed herself off the bed, and her hips swayed with a sensual grace as if calling him to come closer. He felt his throat close, almost losing his breathing, his hands instinctively reaching out to claim her as soon as she was within reach. His fingers settled on the soft fabric of her waist, feeling the gentle curve of her body beneath.

Her hands came to claim space over his chest, her delicate fingers tracing gentle shapes in an attempt to calm the turmoil inside of him, feeling the material of his clothing, feeling his form underneath. Her voice, so sweet and velvety, was full of adoration as she spoke to him. “You are so sweet, Jace, my gentle dragon.” Her praise fuelled his fire within, his love for her reaching the skies above him, a rival to Vermax and his wings.

Jacaerys's response was low and husky, his words barely above a whisper as he was on the edge of falling apart under her touch. “And you are my everblooming flower.” The longing had become unbearable, and he slowly leaned in, his lips yearning to bridge the gap between them. The kiss was deep, passionate, and all-consuming, a fusion of their bodies and souls. Heads turned, lips met and moved, and sounds of passion echoed around them and throughout the empty chamber. 

Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him in as if trying to merge their very essence to become one being, inseparable and indivisible, never to be parted. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them lost in their beautiful desire. He could feel himself hardening in his breeches even more, growing more uncomfortable by the mere second as he was taken over by his needs. She could feel him, that strange pressure against her front as she was weakened as well, her mind lost in a haze and anticipation. 

Almost violently, like the tearing of tender skin, the lovers ripped themselves apart from their suffocating kiss as they ran out of air, their chests rising and falling in ragged unison as they battled to refill their lungs. The prince's lips then grazed the gentle curve of her neck, planting tender, deliberate kisses on the sensitive skin, prompting a soft hum of satisfaction from her, ”Will you accept my gift, my love?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the heavy silence, the ringing in his ears.

Jace's entire being seemed to seize, his lips still lingering on the delicate curve of her neck, as he wrestled to process her question. She was willing to surrender herself to him, completely, and brave the repercussions of an unmarried night together. Could he accept such a sacrifice? Was he monstrous enough to put her in such a precarious position? His thoughts swirled in turmoil, a part of him screaming that it was morally wrong, while another part yearned to devour her whole.

"I could not do that to you, my flower," he breathed out, brokenness hidden in the crook of her neck and his words laced with a mix of longing, "think of your husband—“

But her interruption was swift and sharp, like she had anticipated his thoughts. "He does not mind," she said, her voice low and resolute. "We reached an agreement.” The prince's eyes widened in stunned surprise as he pulled himself back, his gaze locked on hers. 

"What do you mean?" he demanded to know, his voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and a strange fear. Could he trust her future husband’s words? What if he were to turn on his agreement, accuse her of betrayal, and strip her of her honour?

Her eyes sparkled like emeralds under the silvery light, brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. "He knows what this means for us," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion, "that it is goodbye.” She shook her head, her hair bouncing around her cherubic features as she looked into his eyes, hopeful.

Goodbye.

It was goodbye.

In no time, they will belong to other people.

The next time they meet, they will not be lovers; they will be forced to be strangers. 

She knew him too well and knew that his struggle with morality was the only thing that was holding him back from surrendering to his desires. She wanted him to understand that she wanted this, wanted him, regardless of the consequences. So, in a last attempt to let him understand, she reached for the delicate ribbon that was holding her slip together to tug on it and allow the material to shift ever so slightly, revealing just a small hint of her bare skin hiding underneath. As the gown slid open, it seemed that the sound of her rapid heartbeat was the only sound that filled the silence, a reminder that the outcome of this moment was far from certain. He could very well reject her final approach, and she would have to understand. 

The velvet parted like curtains as the breeze made the fabric sway gently over her body, leaving almost nothing to the imagination as his eyes were drawn to the womanly shape of her body. His gaze turned into the very mirror of a predator, like that dangerous glint in Vermax’s eyes as he watched his prey. He was drawn to the alluring curve of her breasts, the soft shape of her hips, and down to the forbidden fruit between her tightly clenched thighs, suddenly too aware of his sight over her. At that moment, like a rope snapping, his restraint evaporated, and a primal hunger consumed him. The cold night air seemed to fuel his desire, igniting a fire within him that burnt away any remaining inhibitions.

His hands took hold of her waist, right where they belonged, dragging her in as he claimed her lips once again, sending goosebumps all over her skin. The pressure of his mouth coaxed hers open, and his tongue delved in to find the warmth within. As they kissed, his hand began to roam freely over, pushing the now bothersome velvet aside as he traced her curves, lost in the silkiness of her skin. Her body responded to his touch, her back arching as she suddenly found it difficult to keep her balance, her nails digging into him. The intensity of his kiss was almost overwhelming, leaving her breathless and her senses reeling.

His feet carried them with clumsy steps, legs entwined with each other as they found their way backwards to where she had been waiting for him. The bed, perfectly arranged with soft sheets and plump pillows, was awfully inviting as it seemed to wait for the lovers to surrender to its comfort. She yielded to his guidance, her trust in him allowing them to tumble backwards until the back of her legs found the edge of the bed and she sank down onto the mattress. She settled against one of the many pillows, her shift giving up its attempt to cover her and being discarded aside as she reclined onto the pillows, hair cascading around her like a halo, an otherworldly beauty in the darkness. 

Jacaerys felt like he was going to suffocate under the uncomfortable weight of his attire; too many layers threatened to choke the life out of him, so yet again, his inexperienced fingers began to unbutton his clothes, desperate to feel her skin against his and elevate their intimacy. His eyes had darkened to a deep, burning intensity as he looked at her, his lust barely contained behind his restraint. Finally, the last layer had been shed, and he stood before her, bare in body and soul. 

With a delicate tug of her hand, she helped him closer to rise on the bed and come to her. He climbed in beside her, together like two pieces of a puzzle, meant to find each other. He hovered over her, his hand on each side of her head as he looked down at her with a love so strong, so deep, and so clear that it made her heart ache with its intensity. He knew that this night would be their only shared secret, one last night before they parted ways forever. She could feel her heart breaking, so she pulled him down to her to take his lips in a kiss that liberated her, pouring all that she felt into the embrace before she could break down in front of him. The young prince's response was immediate, their lips moving in perfect sync as they surrendered to the longing they had repressed.

As he slowly pressed his weight over her, he finally indulged in the desperate wish he had harboured for so long. It was as if he was about to detonate, about to disappear into their passion, never to resurface again. His hands worshipped every inch of her skin, tracing the curves of her hips, the gentle slope of her waist, the softness of her chest, and the slender column of her neck, as his desire reached a fever pitch. His hand, a gentle touch, descended into the valley between her breasts and lingered on the soft expanse of her stomach, igniting a fire within her. Lost in the intensity of the kiss, his palm rested on the mound between her legs, the tips of his fingers teasing the delicate curls. A soft, angelic gasp escaped her lips, “Jace..."

The girl parted her legs in an unspoken invitation, her desire taking over her and clouding her mind. He was a gentleman; he loved her, and he would honour her desire. Every shiver, every arch of her back, every sigh that came through her lips just pushed him to explore further. His fingers slipped between her folds, through the unfamiliar warmth of her arousal. A low groan rumbled in his throat as he felt her for the first time, finding her soaked in a testament of her need for him. Her feelings for him, her desires, her very essence, were laid bare before him.

When her restlessness grew as he touched her, she rolled her hips, a silent plea for more.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured, his voice a low purr against her lips. "Beautiful."

His fingers found peace in a slow dance over her bundle of nerves, testing her limits, finding her pleasure to push her to the brink of ecstasy, to give her what she deserved. She mewled, hips undulating with his touch as his fingers became soaked in her. He followed the rhythm of her body, strokes going harder and faster until she began to drown in a whirlwind of sensation. But his hunger was insatiable. He yearned to give her as much pleasure as she had given him. Pulling away from her lips felt like a betrayal, but he had a different plan in mind. He traced a path of kisses down her neck, across her collarbones, and over the peaks of her breasts, his tongue swirling around her nipples. With each kiss, he counted, an act of devotion.

Eight… twelve… sixteen…

He would remember this moment for the rest of his life, he decided, as he committed to memory every inch of her body, her map of treasure that led to her gold. He left traces of his lips as he went, small but distinct spots of reddening flesh as he took her skin into his mouth, made it his home as he kissed down her body. He lowered himself on the bed to comfortably lay between her legs, on his stomach, his face coming to the very centre of her being, his warm breath mingling with the chill of her skin as he delved into the intimate valley between her legs. The heat radiating from her core enveloped his face as his tongue dared to taste the nectar of her womanhood, tracing a path from base to peak.

Jacaerys Velaryon, accustomed to the finest delicacies, had never tasted anything as intoxicating as his beloved girl. He grew on the sweetest of desserts, the juiciest meats, and the finest wines, but nothing compared to her addictive flavour. He devoured her, his mouth unstoppable as he drank her in. The room was filled with the symphony of her moans and the wet, rhythmic sounds of his tongue against her, lapping at the juices that pooled from her most sensitive place. His hands, strong and possessive, held her hips steady as she bucked and writhed beneath him.

His cock, hard and needy, throbbed against the sheets under his body, dampening them with his pre-cum, the sensitive head rubbing against the rough fabric when he ground his hips against the cushion in desperation while his mouth savoured the sweet fruit of her pleasure. He would never get enough of her, he knew, as he took his time with long yet hungry laps at her apex, swearing to never forget the taste of her on his tongue.

Then, she broke, her cries a siren song that drove him wild. Her body arched, her thighs closing around his head as she reached for the heavens. Her first climax washed over her, a wave of pleasure that left her breathless. She spilt into his mouth, and he took her in willingly as he used his tongue to clean her up completely before he pulled back with a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips, coated in her.

He trailed kisses along the delicate skin of her inner thighs, a shiver rippling through her as she climaxed. His lips lingered, savouring the taste of her, the feel of her skin. He knew that marking more of her skin was dangerous, but he could not help himself from sucking in and biting the plumpness of her thighs as he had done all over her stomach and chest, forming a constellation of love bites as he moved. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to mark her as his as his possessiveness took over, as wrong as he knew it was. Her eyes, half-lidded with remaining pleasure, met his, a silent plea for more. She yearned for him, for the fullness he promised.

Jace, his desire burning, pushed himself up on his arms to crawl over her body. His hips pressed against hers, the hard length of him aching against her soft belly. His own juices seeped from him, a tantalising promise of the pleasure to come. He could feel her anticipation, the way her body tensed and relaxed and shifted, the way her breath quickened. He wanted to lose himself in her, to feel her around him, to bury himself in her warmth.

“If you want me to stop,” He whispered, his voice rough and his throat rather dry, “I will.”

But she reached for his face, her lips curving into a smile that held the promise of endless pleasure. He felt a surge of desire as she parted her legs, inviting him into her embrace. With trembling hands, he guided himself towards her, his aching member finding its way to her entrance. A moment of anticipation passed as he positioned himself, and then, with a gentle push, he entered her, embraced by the foreign feel of her cunt. She tensed, her features twisting as the strange burning of his member settled itself deep within her, breaching her and taking that said innocence of hers.

Jace was engulfed by her warmth, a low groan escaping his lips as he thrust deeper. The friction, the sensation of her tight grip around him, drove him wild and ate at him, begging him to move. He could feel her initial resistance, her eyes fluttering closed as she endured the initial discomfort, and he ached for her. But as her body began to yield to him, her grip loosened, and her eyes, filled with a mix of desire and surrender, met his. He knew then that she was his, body and soul, and he would be deserving of her. Always.

His hips moved with a tentative rhythm, his eyes locked on hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret. Her breath quickened, soft whimpers escaping her lips as pleasure began to blossom within her when the initial pain had died out. He claimed her lips once more, their kiss deepening as their bodies moved in a primal dance, moving in a way that seemed natural for them. The initial awkwardness soon gave way to a more confident rhythm, their movements becoming more fluid and passionate.

The room filled with the music of their passion—the soft sighs, the guttural moans, the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin as they found a pace for both of them. The wet, sucking sound of their bodies melding together was a rhythm, driving them to the brink of ecstasy. Jace felt a growing intensity, a hot, pulsating knot forming low in his belly. He wanted to hold onto this moment, to prolong the pleasure, to give her everything he had. This was the first and last night they would spend together; then he would fuck her until the sun found its way back to the skies. Her legs, strong and eager, wrapped around his hips, urging him on. Her heels dug into his back, a silent plea for more, faster, harder. She was edging closer to the precipice, her body trembling with anticipation.

“Jace…” She moaned his name, such a delicious sound that made him feel delirious.

He clung to her, his body surrendering against her, his arms around her and pulling her closer. His hips pounded against hers, relentless as he drove them both to the very end. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest, soft and warm, bouncing with each move of his body. As they reached their peak, they soared together to the heavens amongst the stars and the planets, lost in a concert of moans and gasps, the music of lovers. He gave himself completely, shooting hot ropes of seed deep into her womb, forgetting themselves in the danger of taking root within her, but still, she kept her hold on him, legs clasped down around him. In that moment, they were one, lost in the euphoria of their shared climax.

The aftermath of their passion left them breathless, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding. He collapsed onto her, a heavy weight of love and longing. She clung to him, her face hidden in his shoulder to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. The realisation of their separation was a bitter taste to swallow, and it only made her heart ache after her pleasure had taken her. He was hers, and she was his, forever, yet fate had decreed otherwise.

She hummed a soft melody, a song they had created together as children to distract herself from the impending pain of their separation once she left his chambers. It was a simple tune, a secret language between them, something safe from the world, something only they had. Jace, ever knowing of her emotions, understood the unspoken message in her song, the reason why she had now decided to sing to him. He knew the depth of their love, the intensity of their connection. They were two souls intertwined, bound by a love that would burn for eternity, the dragon and the flower. He had a duty as the heir of the kingdom, and she to the future of her house and family. They met when they already belonged to others, and for that, he would never forgive the gods. They gave, and they took.

And for a long moment, they remained together, hearts beating in unison as they flew back from the very heavens above. The silence, however, was comforting, a warm veil over their tired bodies, a shared understanding of their feelings. It was pure intimacy, trust, and love that kept them safe from the harsh realities of their world. He needed her to know that their love would endure; no matter what, she would always be in his heart. "I love you," he declared, his voice a gentle whisper, overwhelmed by emotions. As she wept, he gently wiped away her tears, his touch a source of comfort that tore at their heartstrings. "I will always love you," he vowed, his gaze unwavering, "and only you.”

“Thank you.” She choked out, “For loving me, though I do not deserve it.” 

Jace shook his head, his dark curls matted with sweat. His eyes, filled with a mixture of love and despair, met hers. He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips quivering as they threatened to part in a sob that bubbled in his throat. He yearned to give her the world and for a moment wished he was nothing but a simple man deserving of her. “I love you, with my heart and soul, now and forever.”

She, too, was consumed by their love, “Now,” she whispered, her voice trembling, "and forever.”

They spent the night together, finding their pleasure over and over in each other's arms with words of passion and declarations of love, a shared light in the darkness. As dawn approached, casting a soft glow over the room, they lay together with bruised lips, exhausted but content, heartbroken but fulfilled, together. Their secret was known only to a select few; their absence was explained away with elaborate excuses. Her sisters claimed she had spent the night with them, chatting away mindlessly under the light of candles, while his brothers and reluctant cousins feigned ignorance of his whereabouts, pretending that they saw him headed to the dragonpit in the dark of night.

Rhaenyra, however, knew the truth all along yet remained quiet. She had been the witness of the purity of young love from the very moment the two had first met. The queen had tried her hardest to prevent them from committing the same mistakes, yet her efforts were not enough. Her heart ached for her firstborn, who, like her at his age, was bound by duty and forced to sacrifice his happiness. As she gazed upon the sleeping form of her second husband, Daemon, she could not help but wonder if the two of them would ever meet again and eventually be together.

Their weddings took place at the same time, in different places, almost poetic. Jacaerys’ wedding was a lavish celebration witnessed by as many people as they could, with guests from all over Westeros and beyond. Poets and musicians were moved by his sorrow during the festivities, his longing for a love that could not be so evident as he held his bride for their first dance that it would inspire many tales across the realm for centuries to come. Her wedding, though modest, was no less significant. As she was presented to her husband, her heart heavy with sorrow, she forced herself to fulfil her duty. Yet, her tears spoke volumes, revealing the depth of her pain. Despite the circumstances, she endured, as a promise made in a night of heartbreak. 

Their paths remained separate, their destinies sealed in the stars. The lovers would never meet again, at least not in this life.

It cannot be denied that, over time, a close bond would blossom between Jacaerys and his cousin-wife, a genuine connection and source of comfort. Together, they welcomed four children into the world: three sons and a daughter, whose name seemed to befit that of a lady of House Tyrell instead of the Valyrian houses. As the years passed, driven by a desire to spare his children from arranged marriages, Jacaerys attempted to reform the traditional customs so his children would be free to choose their own partners, guided by love rather than political advantages. 

She brought forth two beautiful twin girls, the mirror images of their mother, and would, unfortunately, pass from an untreatable sickness as her second pregnancy debilitated her young body. The loss of the young Lady of Flowers was a devastating blow to all who knew her, close and far. When the news of her passing reached King’s Landing, Queen Rhaenyra ordered her portrait to be displayed in the Red Keep, under the excuse of her love for a child she had seen grow in front of her eyes. However, those close to Prince Jacaerys knew the true significance of this gesture: it was a silent acknowledgement of the profound love and loss he endured.

As if coming alive from the song of a bard, one of his sons would meet one of her daughters and, with a sweet symphony, would find true love in each other’s arms, just as their parents once did. Yet, this time, their love would be allowed to blossom in the most beautiful union, with the heavens above coming together to bless them. Their love would remain everblooming, a seed planted to grow for many generations to come, a tree of life that would never be cut. 

ᡣ𐭩 ─ author's note ;

two months of writing and editing and screaming for THIS?! wack. anyways, happy debut into fluff-smut to me! this oneshot has been through a lot, poor little document. i cannot keep doing this to myself. it's been a long time since i last used the word COCK and it's horrifying lmfao. i need to work on dialogue, i feel like i was limited on that here.

few curious facts about everbloom's world: instead of a reader insert, i had originally created an original female character by the name of alerie tyrell, and the name of jace and baela's daughter was alerya in her honor. the deal she had made with her husband-to-be was that she would never see him again, or mention him in any way. in the first draft, she had a girl that looked just like jace, but the time of their last night and the beginning of her pregnancy was not close at all, so she thought it was a sad gift from the gods. in another draft, she attended jace's crowning ceremony and watched from afar with her children. some of the original ending ideas included a version of hanahaki disease for jace after she passed in childbirth, but i said enough suffering.

i hope it's decent! forgive any grammar mistakes, weird pacing or awkward romance. we can only get better from this!

╰⪼ thank you for reading!

[simplyintoyou]

With her parents away, we immediately settled into the warm ambiance of the living room. She switched on the radio, and in an instant, we found ourselves twirling and giggling, allowing the music to carry us away. We embraced tightly, our hands encircling each other's waists, moving in perfect harmony, lost in the moment together. Then, as the music slowed, she glanced up at me, her gaze penetrating so deeply that it seemed to touch my very soul.

I pulled her closer, and she let out a soft gasp,sending warmth coursing through me. Our lips met in gentle, hesitant pecks, each one lingering a little longer until the kisses deepenedfilled with feelings I’d only dared to hope she shared. In that moment, I knew, she felt it too. As we drew nearer, I tenderly directed her to rest on the plush rug, sensing the warmth emanating from her body below mine.

Our kisses deepened, every touch and caress filling the space between us, as if the world outside had vanished. Her soft moans were akin to a delicate melody, each one causing my heart to quicken its pace, pulling me further into the moment with her.

My hand gently moved downward, skimming the hem of her white skirt, reveling in the touch of the fabric beneath my fingertips. As I lifted it with care, I could sense her eager anticipation in each delicate motion. Her skin grew warmer under my touch, and I felt her body respond, welcoming every gentle caress.

Her breaths quickened, her eyes meeting mine with a combination of desire and trust that simply took my breath away. I paused, allowing myself to enjoy the intimacy, feeling the energy building between us with each passing moment.

As I delved deeper into her touch, feeling the softness against my fingers, I experienced the warmth and gentle moisture that conveyed her emotions, echoing my own. I hesitated, savoring the moment, desiring only to be near her as much as she permitted, treasuring each passing second until she softly urged or indicated for me to proceed or halt, allowing her to lead the way.

With her gentle plea, I lifted her up into my arms and led her to the couch, the air heavy with expectation. She settled onto my crotch, facing me, her arms draped over my shoulders as our eyes met. It seemed as if the world surrounding us had melted away, leaving behind only the cozy warmth shared between us.

Slowly, she began to move against me, each gentle grind creating a warmth that seeped deep into my chest. As she glided closer, her presence, deep breathing, and heartbeat seemed to synchronize with mine. I sensed her energy and desire as her movements became more deliberate, each one drawing us closer together. My hands naturally gravitated towards her waist, effortlessly leading her as we danced in perfect harmony, our movements blending seamlessly together.

I could feel my pace picking up in sync with hers. The intoxicating melody of her moans, so loud and mesmerizing, had the power to make me forget everything but her. With every motion, every shared breath, there was a connection. Something I had never experienced until now. I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the deep tenderness and intensity of this moment.

Her warmth seemed to flow through me, while her gaze met mine, filled with a spark of longing and affection. It felt like we were discovering a silent language within our closeness, a connection that was both unspoken and profoundly felt.

Our breaths were intertwined, our bodies glistening with sweat, and a delightful soreness lingered between us – a gentle reminder of the profound connection we had shared. Her lips were slightly parted, her skin was warm and flushed. I could still feel the imprint of every kiss and caress. Her eyes locked with mine, veiled in delight, yet she persisted in her gentle movement, slowly pressing against my crotch, seemingly cherishing each moment. It was as though she was reluctant to release the sensations, lingering and lingering.

I held her close, my hands tracing gentle paths along her back, feeling the rhythm of her breathing and her body pressing against me. My trousers bore the marks of her desire, filling me with a profound tenderness as I watched her in this vulnerable and blissful state. I leaned forward, gently pressing my lips against her neck.

Breathing in the sweetness of her scent and memorizing it, wanting this moment etched in my memory. Eventually, we found ourselves on her bed, the same one where we used to study and share dreams as teenagers. Now, it held a new kind of closenessone we hadn't imagined back then. She nestled against my chest, our bodies fitting snugly together, as I gently ran my fingers through her hair, delicately twisting the soft strands around my fingertips. There was an incredibly surreal and tender quality to the moment as I held her like this, her head gently rising and falling with my breath. As she drifted off, I couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was more than anything I'd hoped for - intimate, peaceful, and absolutely right. I allowed myself to bask in that comforting warmth, quietly yearning for us to reunite in this gentle world we had crafted exclusively for ourselves, time and time again.

[kkurami]

( LOVE LETTER 2 U ! ) 💌 ² ˚ ༘ fluff

୨୧ ‧ megumi didn’t think he was anything special, not until he received a carefully written love letter just for him <3

like petals unfurling at dawn, my love for you blossoms as each waking day arises.

there’s something so enchanting about being in love, don’t you agree?

i like to believe it gives people a deeper understanding of themselves and their emotions. most people i have seen turn poetic and elegiac when talking about the one they love, which i never quite understood until i fell in love myself. after all, how much can one change just because of another person? the thought had always seemed silly to me.

but if someone were to ask me to describe my feelings for you, i guess i would be a victim of just that.

loving you is a rather unpredictable experience. at times, you make me feel like the happiest person on earth. i get so giddy and whimsical just being around your presence, because you’re the most ethereal person. however, there are times when i’m worried you won’t burn for me the way i do for you. do you feel a fire light up in your soul whenever you see me?

my dearest, your presence is the melody that dances through the corridors of my heart. in the realm of moonlit whispers and star-kissed dreams, your love blooms in the garden of my soul, a symphony of sounds that show we coexist under the same sky. in every heartbeat, i find the rhythm of our connection, a serenade that weaves its way throughout our world. together, we compose a timeless sonnet of boundless affection.

i need to confess… i’ve loved you from the start ♡

a faint blush overtook her features and sat mockingly on her cheeks, as if it waited to expose her inner feelings. she could barely feel the heat that radiated off it, everything in sync with the fast beating of her heart. the inconsistent rise and fall of her chest was synonymous the turmoil she felt deep inside.

her widened eyes held nothing less than affection for the boy who stood in front of her, as his eyes scanned the ivory paper in his hands.

fushiguro megumi, the one who had captured her heart with such grace.

it almost seemed silly, how much the boy had managed to enrapture ever fiber of her soul. after all— they hardly knew each other. she was astonished to find out that he had even known her name.

“this is a love letter?” megumi inquired, an inquisitive eyebrow raised almost as if to think it was silly. “for me?”

y/n’s head bobbed up and down in nervousness. she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she was speaking to megumi. “yes! i know we don’t know each other well and you probably don’t like me like that, but i just-!”

“why… me?” y/n put a hold on her rambling to scan her eyes over to megumi, who had his eyeline focused on the letter in his hands.

y/n quirked her head to the side. “why not you?” the question was silly to her. “you probably think people don’t notice you, but they do. i do. i've always admired you, megumi.”

like delicate petals falling from a sakura painted sky, y/n was a blessing that had graced the earth- at least, in megumi’s eyes. he never considered he was anything special, and opted to just live his life as it passed him by. however with just one letter, y/n seemed to reweave the tapestry of his existence. the page, filled with words of love and heartfelt serenades, seemed to hold megumi’s heart within its grasp- and y/n was at the forefront of it all.

“but,” y/n began to speak again when she noticed megumi deep in thought. “you don’t need to like me back. i just wanted to let you know how i feel!”

a sad smile graced her face, and megumi hated being the cause of it.

“let’s get lunch.” megumi roughy stated without thinking, before correcting himself. “i meant, um, let’s get lunch together.” he couldn’t stop the blush the threatened its way up to his face, nor the fast pace of his heart.

with hushed tones and soft smiles, y/n and megumi began their way towards the lunch room. the air was adorned with the subtle symphony of love as their hearts synchronized. amidst the delicate cadence, the world melted into the background, leaving only the warmth of companionship and the promise of countless conversations yet to unfold.

it was the beginning of a perfect love.

[kayas-obsession]

Okay don’t judge me yet but I had this scenario of Gwynriel in my mind and I had to jot it down.

Do tell me what you think.

……………………

Azriel had always been the one who had given in love. He believed him being the way he is, a torturer and murderer could only receive as much as he gave but here, under the stars, with the woman whose teal eyes shone more brighter than moonlight. He was merely a man.

A man in love, sure but something else was singing from within him. Reaching out to the woman who was holding his hand so dearly, the same hands he had hated his entire life. Hid it from everyone because it was as ugly as he was inside.

But not to her it seems because she held it as if it was not something beautiful or strange but something precious.

As if he was precious.

She smiled wide, the smile so pure and lovely that the cave inside Azriel glowed with warmth. Filling all the empty pieces he had within.

A single tear fell from her eye and he reached out to wipe it. His shadows seemed to want to do the same.

She closed her eyes, leaning towards his touch.

“You are worth it. Worth everything the world has to offer, Shadowsinger. I see you.”

He was reminded of the words she had spoken to him. When he was a mere husk of a person he is now. The person she had given so much love that he sometimes felt like he didn’t deserve her. To which she had wittingly replied, like her usual self,

“Then make me feel so good, that you feel like you do”

And he had.

She opened her eyes a pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. An answer to his request.

His.

She was his.

His shadows danced around him, reaching to her. He did not lose to his shadows and engulfed her into his embrace. His heart swelled. It felt as if his entire body was rejoicing.

She brought her face to his. No words were spoken but her eyes told him everything. As if it was something so trivial to what they were feeling.

He kissed her gently. Tasting the tears that was now falling freely from her eyes. As was his.

The warmth inside him seemed to be reaching out to her. To form a symphony of all the emotions boiling inside of him. To connect with her as it collided and he could feel it, feel it in his soul, the light, that could not be dimmed by the darkest of hours. Glowing so brightly with the rhythm that matched their heartbeats. As if in sync with each other.

As if they had been from the moment they had connected.

His soul sang in answer. His shadows curled around them as if they too could understand what had happened.

She was the answer. To his longing, to his loneliness. She was his salvation, his muse, his prayers. His home.

She was his love.

His gift.

His mate.

[archaoism]

baby, if I could articulate it, I-I would have by now, I'd have left it in tiny villanelles in the very lining of your veins; in an attempt to spare the pain, to maintain the sanity we struggled thru the realities of far too apart rather than closer together; if it is any consolation, here is my fealty, here is my surrender, here is the please, remember me like this instead, stable with a head on my shoulders that knows better than to take for granted all you make me stumble through this world in, wide-eyed in awe-struck wonder before half-lidded in animalistic desire, nonethewiser that the strings in my heart wound 'round your fingers pull all the right triggers; and oh, please, let me do the suffering instead from now on, let the repressed demons battling in your head run wild in the winding labyrinths of my mind; darling, if ever you question I was near, place your hand over your heart and find the residual beat that got me thru the darker days until I found my way back to you the right way; oh, and I know timing ain't ever gonna be my forte and our story would've been written much different had I had not been forced to live the lives that I left behind every single time, returning bit-by-bit until what I have to offer is all that's left in the version of me that made it; if I could serenade your soul with syntax synced to your insecurities until it felt safe to be with me again, I would in a quicker heartbeat than the skip of mine every single time I am hanging on your every line; and I get it, sweetheart, I do; it won't ever be me that that is said to, but please know that no matter the journey, my love is unconditional, eternally infinite and forever devoted to The One who proved to me that soulmates truly are real

[ginxyy]

Drew Berrymore

'Cause you're the next Drew Barry And I want more, yeah

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the world as you stepped into your hotel room. It felt like another universe one where time twisted and reality blurred, all rendered irrelevant in the presence of the man you had come to crave. Jun, a vibrant soul with a voice that echoed like a whisper of magic in the air, had captured your heart in an electrifying way that felt almost like a call of the universe itself. Nine months had gone by since you first crossed paths on the set of that series, his laughter echoing off the walls as he masterfully brought his character to life. You were merely a guest star, yet it was as if the stars had aligned just for you two, creating an unbreakable bond that flourished behind the scenes.

It started with simple, stolen moments on set. A glance that lingered too long, a shared joke that made time freeze, and before you knew it, your world had tilted on its axis. Each encounter awakened something in you, igniting a flame that refused to be extinguished. The strings of fate tightened their grasp around you both as you found yourselves drawn into the intoxicating pull of one another, slipping away to secret hotel rooms when the world outside busied itself with trivialities. Those passionate nights blurred into a rhythmic pulse, a waltz of desires and dreams, each heartbeat synchronized with the rising cadence of your longing for him.

“Hey, you could be my Drew Barrymore,” he would tease, a playful grin dancing on his lips, those eyes sparkling like stars ignited with mischief. The words made your heart flutter turning the simple sentiment into an anthem of your whirlwind affair. The truth was, you craved that label: his Drew. Someone timeless. Someone cherished. Amidst the haze of lust and laughter, Jun became everything you never knew you needed. He was the crescendo in your melodies, the verse that turned your silence into a poetic lovesong, and you would gladly let the cadence of your hearts guide you into the unknown.

One night, after a particularly spirited rendezvous, the air crackled with intensity, each caress and whisper tethering you ever deeper into the web of emotion that ensnared you both. As the dawn kissed the darkness goodnight, you couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving, yet you knew the world awaited him beyond those hotel walls. You parted ways, each kiss a promise lingering on your lips. Every time he stepped out of your sight, a piece of you went with him, encapsulated in the silence that echoed against the empty walls of your room.

The flight back home felt achingly long, every cloud outside the window, every muffled announcement from the cabin crew, reminding you of the void left by his absence. You couldn’t shake the thought of him, the laughter you shared, and the warmth of his hands against your skin. It was intoxicating, and in that moment, inspiration struck. A whimsical idea blossomed within, and you pulled out your phone, your fingers dancing over the screen as they sought comfort in the melody of “Drew Barrymore” by Bryce Vine. It sang of passion, longing, and the delicate balance of love and yearning, much like your life with Jun.

As your voice filled the tiny cabin space, you felt every note surge through you; each chorus was a declaration a hint, a message to him that you were undeniably his, ready to embrace whatever came next. The harmony hung between you like an invisible string, beckoning him to cross the miles separating you, to pull him closer into your world where you would forever be each other's Drew Barrymore.

The next week was a whirlwind of restless anticipation. Each second felt elongated, his absence like a wound that throbbed and begged for closure. But the universe, with its perfect sense of timing, had other plans. You were performing at a local venue, every heart in the audience pulsing in sync with yours as you filled the room with your music, the air alive with excitement. Yet, amidst the thrill, your heart ached for him, a drum echoing in your chest in a rhythm that spoke only of his name.

Then, just as you were about to take your final bow, the crowd erupted in a joyous roar, and there he was. Jun, standing at the edge of the stage, radiant, his signature smile illuminating the dimmed room. The moment suspended in time as your eyes locked, and every part of you ignited with the electric connection you had been longing for.

Without hesitation, he leaped onto the stage, and before you could comprehend the suddenness of it all, he was pulling you into a tight embrace. Laughter bubbled from your lips, sparkling with disbelief and joy. In the chaos of applause and cheers, he leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that left your heart racing, as if setting the world on fire in that one blissful moment. It was the kind of kiss that solidified everything unspoken between you two a vow, a promise, and perhaps even an uncharted territory beckoning to be explored.

When you finally parted, you could see it in his eyes the smile that spoke of ownership and the glint of mischief that wrapped you in warmth. “So, are you ready to be my Drew Barrymore officially?” he teased, his words a thrill-making rush that sent chills down your spine. You nodded, your heart swelling with an uncontainable happiness, the world suddenly brighter, fuller, and alive in ways you had only dreamed of.

From that moment on, you embraced your roles as partners in love and performance, sharing your lives in harmony as you navigated the creative landscapes of music and acting. With every song you sang, every scene you acted, there was a palpable thrill echoing in the shadows of your hearts a love that transformed a fleeting affair into a captivating story, one where two souls intertwined, addicted to the depths of each other’s passion, forever drawing closer as you became each other's greatest act, your very own romantic odyssey.

[mara-xx217]

Good morning/afternoon/night! My internet is really bad at the moment so im not sure when this ask is gonna get through lol :,)

If I remember it correctly, your asks are open! So I decided to try my luck on sending one! (I've only downloaded Tumblr recently so im sorry if this goes badly :,) )

May I ask for a scenario or something like that with Pocketcat obsessing over a poor and desperate soul(aka reader lol) who is just trying to make their way through the Fear and Hunger dungeons/The festival of Termina (It's probably better if you choose lol)? Reader is just trying to go through another day without being attacked in their sleep and maybe smoking some Opium while that goddamn cat is just starting from a corner.

((Im not sure how asks work! Sorry if I made a mistake!!))

Omg yes this is perfectly fine! Everybody loves Pocketcat (me included) so I'm more than happy to answer this lol. Let's set this during the Festival, shall we? :)

You're doing great!

Warnings: Stalking, General Creep Behavior, Pocketcat Deserves His Own Warning, Drug Use

The atmosphere of Prehevil was a buzz with an invisible, cold heat. Your skin had started to tingle the moment you woke up from that terrible dream you had on the train and a throbbing headache that started as a minor annoyance has now turned into a full blown migraine that has you feeling like you've been brained by a lead pipe, a very real possibility given all the pissed off locals that have been attacking you unprompted and out of the blue as you've wandered the mostly deserted streets.

The last few blocks, you've begun to feel as though you were being watched... Every other step you take, you swear that you hear the echo of a footfall that is just barely out of sync of your own. You pause mid step and listen carefully.

...click...

Shit. You don't look over your shoulder, fearing what you might find following you. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and suddenly pick up your pace, not quite running but not walking casually either. Your fucking head is killing you... You wanted nothing more than to take a hit from your pipe... but you needed to find somewhere relatively safe first. Continuing on, you round several more street corners. You don't stop until you no longer hear any footsteps mirroring your own. Slowing down, you strain your ears once again.

....

Silence. You shuffle to a stop. Your headache is nearly blinding and you sit on a pair of steps that lead into one of the many buildings in Prehevil. Fumbling with your bag, you fish out your smoking pipe, your eyes closed as they were throbbing and painfully dry. You crack an eye open and find a nearly empty matchbook, striking it alight and lighting the pipe that was still partially filled with opium. Extreme, but its all you have.

And your head-

It was sweet relief. The opium was strong and fast acting. Your headache numbed, as did your paranoia. Your heartbeat slowed and you felt yourself fall at ease. You kept your eyes closed, enjoying the brief moment of quiet. Has it been only a few hours of this? It almost felt like a lifetime... Your eyes open, blinking as they readjust to the light. And you find yourself startled as there was someone standing down the street opposite of where you sat.

The colour purple was a strange sight in this blood-soaked town... Not a drop of gore was on him, yet the bag at his feet was blood-smeared and breathing, you could tell even from where you sat. He was tall and well-dressed, strange all around and strangely making a point to avoid eye-contact with you. As you stared at him, suddenly sobering from the opium, he twitched his head and glanced in your direction. What the hell was he wearing...?

"Ah-! Oh, dear me! I didn't see you there at all!" His accent was strange and he seemed exasperated. Though he was wearing a mask, something that appeared to be cumbersome and inflexible, it had a lot of character and seemed to reflect it well through his eyes.

"My, my, how rude of me! I do apologize, this Festival has us all running about like mad, does it not?" You uneasily looked side to side.

Was... he talking to you?

"What... 'Festival'...?" He continued on.

"Say... perhaps I am mistaken but... do I know you? Maybe you get that a lot, you do have one of those faces, but I swear that you look..." The masked man turned to face you. He had one hand in his pocket, something that make you gravely nervous.

"...familiar?" You don't know why you answered him. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of this situation getting to you.

"Yes! Familiar. I feel as though I have met you once before, in lands and times different though under such similar circumstances..." He grew wistful, seeming to reflect on an old and touching memory. You frowned. There was something nagging at the back of your head....

"Pray tell, how has this Festival been treating you? Worse for wear? Perhaps you have had your fill and wish to turn in for the day?" You narrowed your eyes.

"I... What?" He continued.

"No matter, there is time left for you, though not much at all, I'm afraid. There is never enough time, is there? Or it certainly doesn't feel that way... Especially where the ones we love are concerned..." He turned his head so you couldn't see his masked face. The man brought his hand to his mouth and seemed to suddenly grow sheepish. The hand in his pocket began to twitch and you felt your stomach roll in apprehension.

"Do you have that special someone in your life? I did... once upon a time... Though it has been so many ages since I last saw them..." He turned to face you and he seemed larger and closer than he truly was. The masked man grew in height and seemed to lean in close to you, until you had your back flat against the stairs and you were cowering before him from across the street.

"Though... looking upon you has brought a wave of nostalgia over me! Truly, I must thank you for this, for I had missed them terribly..." There was a genuineness to his voice that was almost moving... for a split second, you felt your guard lower.

"I see..." Your shoulders dropped a little. A wave of emotion washed over you.

Relief

Gratitude

But in the warmness there was also,

Anticipation

Fear

Hatred

Deja vu seized your heart and froze you in place. Your temples began to throb as the colour drained from your face. The stranger had become familiar and known to you, though you didn't understand how or why. He seemed pleased with the shift in your demeanor.

"That's quite enough I think..." You furrowed your brows, confused.

"What-?"

"Yes, quite so!" You can tell that he was smiling under the mask.

"I don't understand-" He nodded to himself.

"That's quite alright, old sport! Give it some time, I think it will all become apparent, sooner than later." The man straightened up and you no longer felt crowded.

"W-What will? What- Who even are you-?!" Your question was waved off.

"Enough questions! Don't you think it's about time now?" Anxiety pulsed under your skin.

"Time? Time f-for what?"

"Time to wake up, of course! You've nearly overslept!" You're stunned. Confused and a little annoyed, you open your mouth to rebuke him, but he's suddenly in front of you and has a gloved hand clamped around your mouth. You can't move, you can't blink, you can't even scream in terror as a wave of nostalgia crashes over you.

"Hush, now... I've stolen you away from my Master for long enough... It's time for us to part ways for now, but we will meet again. It will be just like the good old days, just you wait!" You didn't know who this fucking freak was and you didn't care. You just wanted him to get the hell away from you already!

"Go on, then! Away with you!" His tone was cheery but he picked you off the stone stairs with his one hand with ease, until your legs were dangling limply in the air.

You were thrown down but instead of busting your head on the edge of sharp stairs you startled in a seated position. You hit your elbow against the cool train window and your head bounced off of it as you struggled to regain your senses.

It was... what?

It wasn't real... It was all just one big, terrible dream... You sighed in relief. In the moments that it took your heart to slow, you realized something.

The train wasn't moving and it was devoid of all passengers.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather

[b1ackoutartist]

A Whispered Love

Natasha Romanoff x reader

fluff, the first I love you :)

Rain was drumming on the window pane, a soft symphony that punctuated the cozy silence in the dorm room. Natasha and I were curled up on the couch, draped in a fluffy blanket, an old movie playing softly on the TV. This was our sanctuary, our little piece of heaven away from the hectic college life.

Natasha's arm was draped casually around my shoulders, her warm presence radiating comfort and safety. She would occasionally run her fingers gently through my hair, a silent declaration of her affection for me. Our shared heat in the cold room, the scent of her favorite strawberry shampoo, the light brush of her fingers against my skin, everything was perfect.

"Y/N, do you want to watch something else?" Natasha asked, her voice a soft murmur against my ear.

"No, I like this one," I replied, not really paying attention to the screen. The fact was, I was just content being here with her. Natasha simply hummed in response, pulling me closer to her. I instinctively moved, settling my head on her chest.

Her heartbeat, steady and reassuring, lulled me into a sense of serenity. Her other arm snaked around my waist, pulling me in even closer. Her fingers traced small patterns on the fabric of my shirt, her touch light and familiar.

Natasha didn't say anything for a while, just played with my hair, and let the movie play in the background. I felt her shift slightly, and then I felt her lips on the top of my head, soft and lingering.

"I love you, Y/N." Her voice was a whisper, almost lost amidst the drumming of the rain. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. Did I hear her right?

She kissed my head again, almost as if to emphasize her words. "I love you," she repeated, louder this time, her voice full of emotions. Her hold on me tightened, pulling me even closer to her, if that was even possible.

"I... I love you too, Natasha," I finally managed to whisper back, my voice shaking slightly. I felt her sigh in relief, her lips planting a soft kiss on the crown of my head again.

The rest of the night passed in a warm haze, our whispered declarations of love and promises for the future blending with the rain outside. Our hearts beat in sync, our bodies entwined together, our souls dancing in a rhythm only we understood.

That night, for the first time, Natasha Romanoff said she loved me. And it was indeed a moment as unique and beautiful as her.

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 8

About: The studio pulses with high-octane energy as creativity and tension collide. As Genji delivers verses that cut to the core, she not only claims her space but also pushes Eminem to confront emotions he's long kept buried. The resulting collaboration is electric, setting the stage for a track that could redefine everything, including the dynamics between them.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9| Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

The studio was buzzing with the kind of energy that was almost tangible. Dre and Snoop lounged near the console, their postures relaxed but their focus razor-sharp. Porter had just sauntered in, the timing too perfect to be coincidental. All were set up, ready to catch the vibe. It was all about the flow right now. No interruptions. Just music.

Inside the recording booth, Genji adjusted the headphones snugly over her ears, her hands steady as she positioned herself before the mic. Her gaze focused as she was ready to dive into her verses.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Dre's voice carried across the room, calm but commanding.

The track kicked in, the beat heavy and relentless. Each thud of the bassline reverberated in the chest like a heartbeat. Synths distorted the air, bending it, while hi-hats skittered, marking time like a countdown. The room fell silent, every ear attuned to the rhythm.

Genji took a deep breath, nodding as if to sync her breath with the beat. And then she dove in, her voice slicing through the sonic chaos:

傷ついた夢、消えない記憶 (Kizutsuita yume, kienai kioku) (Dreams that are broken, memories don't fade) 孤独の中で進む軌跡 (Kodoku no naka de susumu kiseki) (Walking through the loneliness, the path I made) Breakin' through the static、音を裂く (Breakin' through the static, oto wo saku) (Breakin' through the static, tearing through the sound) 闇の中でも光は描く (Yami no naka demo hikari wa egaku) (Even in the dark, the light will come around)

Each word hit with precision, the cadence sharp and deliberate. Her bilingual flow danced effortlessly, weaving between languages and emotions. It wasn't just a verse; it was an unravelling of her soul, raw and unfiltered.

縛られた声、自由を求め (Shibarareta koe, jiyuu wo motome) (Voices restrained, I'm reaching for the free) 胸の奥深く、炎を染め (Mune no oku fukaku, honoo wo some) (Deep inside my heart, flames guiding me) Shadowと戦い、己を守る (Shadow to tatakai, onore wo mamoru) (Battling the shadows, guarding who I am) 鏡割れても、未来を作る (Kagami warete mo, mirai wo tsukuru) (Mirror cracks, but still I take my stand)

Eminem leaned back on the studio sofa, arms crossed as his eyes locked on her. He didn't move, barely breathed. He wasn't just hearing her; he was absorbing every syllable. Her words wrapped around the beat, building momentum like a wave cresting toward the shore. Her voice surged, carrying an edge of vulnerability masked by strength. Every line felt personal, the kind of truth you only shared when you knew the room would listen. And everyone listened.

愛した分だけ傷を負う (Aishita bun dake kizu wo ou) (The more I loved, the more wounds I bear) この手の中、何を守ろう？ (Kono te no naka, nani wo mamorou?) (What do I protect with these hands, laid bare?) Shadows dictate？ No way, I'll fight 未来を刻む、強くshine bright (Mirai o kizamu, tsuyoku shine bright) (Etching my tomorrow, shining so bright)

His gaze flickered to the others in the room. Dre nodded subtly, his approval clear. Snoop leaned in, a smirk tugging at his lips. But then his focus snapped back to Genji. It wasn't just her technical skill that impressed him; that was undeniable. No, it was something else. It was the way she owned the moment, how she poured everything she had into it. The intensity in her eyes mirrored what he hadn't seen in a long time, what he hadn't realised he missed.

There was an undeniable pull in the way she commanded attention, not just from the room, but from him. Why was he feeling like this? He had worked with countless artists and had this kind of chemistry before, but not like this. Not with her.

火の中歩き、燃え上がる声 (Hi no naka aruki, moeagaru koe) (Walking through the flames, my voice won't cease) 鼓動が導く、明日への扉 (Kodou ga michibiku, ashita e no tobira) (Heartbeat guiding me to the door of peace) No saboteur inside, 自分を越える (No saboteur inside, jibun wo koeru) (No saboteur inside will hold me back) 灰の中から種を植える (Hai no naka kara tane wo ueru) (Rising from the ashes, planting seeds where it's black)

Eminem shifted, resting his elbows on his knees. He felt the strange pull deep in his chest. This wasn't just about music anymore, was it? There was something about her that he couldn't ignore no matter how hard he tried.

He tried to shake it off, tried to focus on the beat, but it lingered, gnawing at him. It wasn't just her talent. It wasn't just the fire in her voice. It was the way she was there, present in a way that made everything else seem insignificant. He hadn't felt this alive in a session in years. And that scared the hell out of him.

燃え尽きてもまだ炎がある (Moetsukite mo mada honoo ga aru) (Even if I burn out, the fire still remains) 傷跡の中で強さが光る (Kizuato no naka de tsuyosa ga hikaru) (Scars within my soul turn to strength in my veins) I'm on fire, 消せやしない (I'm on fire, kese ya shinai) (I'm on fire, you can't put me out) 闇を照らして響くmy life (Yami wo terashite hibiku my life) (Lighting up the dark, hear my life shout)

The track faded, leaving a thick silence in its wake.

"That was hard," Porter's voice broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension.

Genji stepped out of the booth, her smile faint but triumphant. Her gaze met Eminem's for a brief moment, an unspoken acknowledgement passing between them.

"Aight, my turn," he said, pushing off the couch. He adjusted his cap, his jaw set. He wasn't about to let himself get distracted. Not now.

Inside the booth, the headphones felt heavier than usual. The mic loomed before him, a familiar adversary. He cracked his knuckles, stealing a quick glance toward Genji. Her expression was unreadable, but her presence strangely felt different. The energy she had brought to the session lingered like an electric charge, and it wasn't just the music. It was her.

The beat dropped again, snapping him back into focus. The energy from her verses still pounded in his chest, leaving a thick, charged air in the studio. His grip on his notepad tightened as he leaned forward, eyes narrowing. His mind was split — half on the bars, half on her.

Her verses had shaken him, and it wasn't just because of her technical skill. No, it was the way her words seemed to cut straight through him, tapping into something he'd buried deep inside. It was like she saw him, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

He rapped through the first verse, his words jagged and sharp:

I'm a ghost in the booth, yeah, I haunt this mic, Turned my trauma into tracks, now I'm locked in a fight. Every grin's a grenade, every laugh's a knife, Every line's another layer of my messed-up life.

He spat the lines like a confession, each word sharper than the last. His flow was relentless, matching the chaotic churn inside his head. The flow was sharp and urgent; he couldn't stop now. The intensity she'd brought out in him had left him no choice but to spill his own truth.

Pushin' people off, yeah, I'm buildin' a moat, Keepin' my distance so I don't slit my own throat. A paradox breathin', rage in my veins, But inside, I'm just beggin' for the calm to remain.

As he rapped, his mind raced. Every line felt personal now, deeper than just the music. His gaze flickered again toward Genji, catching her out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't just another artist. She was different. And that made him uneasy.

He tried to ignore it. He tried to focus on the mic, on the track; but his thoughts kept drifting back to her. The way her presence had seeped into his chest. The way she made him feel alive.

I shove you away 'cause I'm savin' myself, But I'm dyin' inside while I'm screamin' for help. Buried the truth deep beneath the facade, The saboteur's a voice that keeps me at odds.

Every bar hit harder, his delivery like a barrage meant to drown out the thoughts creeping into his mind. This was supposed to be about the track, but her presence was messing with his head. Her talent, her energy; it was magnetic. He hated how much he liked it.

I'm tired of the fight, yo, I'm sick of the loop, The fire's burnin' out, but I'm still in the soup. If the shadows creep up, I'll carve out my lane, Every scar's just a roadmap drawn in my pain.

The session had become something more than music. It was personal now. Every word felt like a window into his head, and he knew she was catching glimpses.

What was he doing? This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to let anyone in, not like this. He had built walls and learned to keep his distance. Mixing business and emotion was a recipe for disaster. He knew that.

Risin' from the rubble, yeah, I'm lit like a fuse, Every demon I've faced just sharpens my views. You can't douse this flame, it's scorchin' the night, I'm the phoenix in the dark, burnin' loud and bright.

The track ended, the silence almost deafening. Dre leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "This one's it," he said simply.

Snoop chuckled, nudging him. "Told ya this was gonna be fire."

Genji smiled, her eyes meeting Eminem's as he stepped out of the booth. She looked at him, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips, but there was something more to it. Something that made him second-guess his next move. He wasn't sure what he was feeling anymore, but he knew one thing for sure: if he let this go any further, it could change everything.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice low. "We just made something big."

Deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

[fountainfever]

no trigger warnings i think, if there is tell meee

The dimly lit bar was buzzing with laughter and the clinking of glasses. It was a Friday night, and Konig walked through the door, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just a week ago, he had thought he was in love. Now, that love had turned into heartbreak, and he found himself staring down the barrel of loneliness.

“Hey, man! Over here!” shouted Soap, waving him over to a corner booth where their friends were already comfortably settled. Konig forced a smile as he approached, trying to shake off the remnants of his breakup. They ordered drinks, the cold bottles of beer offering a temporary reprieve from his thoughts.

As the evening wore on, Konig found himself drawn into their banter, the playful teasing and stories easing his troubled mind. They reminisced about old times and made fun of each other’s terrible dating choices. With each round, the laughter grew louder and the sting of isolation faded a little more.

“Come on, let’s hit the dance floor!” said Gaz, a friend with an infectious energy. Konig hesitated but decided to join. He needed a distraction, something to lift the fog of sadness still lingering in his heart. The music pulsed through him, and for a moment, everything felt alive again.

As the night progressed, konig found himself at the bar, leaning against it while catching his breath. That’s when he noticed her — a woman with striking eyes and a contagious smile. She was laughter and light, confidently chatting with a group of friends. Something about her captivated him, and as if drawn by an invisible string, he moved closer.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep it cool despite the adrenaline rushing through him. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

She turned, her smile widening. “Trying to escape my own reality, I guess. You?”.

“Same here,” he replied, feeling the connection spark between them. What your name she yelled over the loud music "Konig, and yours?" "My name is Y/N" Their conversation flowed effortlessly; they laughed, shared stories, and their chemistry was undeniable.

Before he knew it, they were back on the dance floor, wrapped up in each other, losing themselves in the music. The world outside faded away as they swayed together, bodies moving in perfect sync. The heartache that had haunted Konig earlier was now replaced with an exhilarating sense of freedom.

As the night deepened, Konig felt a pull that he couldn’t resist. “What do you say we get out of here?” he suggested, his heartbeat quickening.

“Sounds perfect,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

They left the bar, laughter mingling with the warm night air. The drive to his place was electric, filled with the thrill of the unexpected. Once inside, they barely made it to the couch before they were enveloped in passion. If only for a night, they were two souls escaping their realities, lost in each other’s warmth.

When morning arrived, sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating their surroundings. Konig woke up alone, the echo of laughter still ringing in his ears. He glanced around his room, a bittersweet smile creeping onto his face.

He walked by his dresser saw a paper it had Y/N number in it with a small note saying to call her.

[author-of-all-sins]

Whats the use?

Whats the point?

What's the use of my soul,

if it's not entwined with yours in every way?

What's the use of my heart,

if it doesn't beat in rhythm with yours?

What's the use of my breath,

if it's not mingling with yours in the air?

What's the use of my dreams,

if they don't intertwine with yours?

What's the use of my love,

if it's not poured into every part of you?

What good is my existence,

if it's not intertwined with yours in the most intimate dance of life?

What's the use of your love,

if mine isn't reciprocated in every touch?

If it's not me you yearn for in the depths of the night?

If I'm not the one you crave at dawn's light?

What good is it,

if you've never truly felt the depth of love's might?

What's the purpose of my existence,

if your essence isn't intertwined with mine?

What worth do I hold,

if your presence isn't the essence of my being?

What's the point of my breath,

if it doesn't mingle with yours in the air?

What's the point of my heartbeat,

if it doesn't synchronize with the rhythm of yours?

What's the purpose of my love,

if it's not entwined with yours?

If it's not wrapped around you,

like the warm embrace of dawn?

What's the point of my dreams,

if they don't include you in every scene?

What's the point of my soul,

if it doesn't yearn for the connection of yours?

What's the point of your smile,

if it's not the sun that brightens my day?

If it's not the beacon that guides me home,

to the warmth of your embrace?

What's the point of your love,

if it's not the force that fuels my passion?

If it's not the melody that plays in the symphony of my heart?

If I am not the one you call yours,

then what is the point of love at all?

What's the purpose of my existence,

if I can't intertwine with yours?

What's the value of my breath,

if it doesn't mingle with yours in the air?

What's the essence of my being,

if it's not entwined with yours?

What's the point of my heartbeat,

if it doesn't sync with yours in the silence?

What's the meaning of my dreams,

if they don't intertwine with yours?

What's the significance of my love,

if it doesn't blend with yours in eternity?

What's the use of this world,

if I can't share it with you?

If I can't dance in the moonlight with you,

If I can't hold your hand through the storms?

What's the use of love,

if it's not shared with you?

If it's not you, my heart beats for,

If it's not you, my soul yearns for?

What's the use of life,

if it's not lived with you?

If every moment doesn't echo your name,

If every heartbeat doesn't resonate with your love?

What good is it,

if it's not us against the world?

If I'm not holding you close,

If I'm not loving you fiercely?

What good is it,

if you never knew how good it could be?

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Hugs & Kisses

sam giddings x fem! reader

summary: Sam loves to hug and kiss you

warning: pure fluff

»»————-　★　————-««

Sam and her infectious smile and caring nature, had always been the beacon of light for her friends. However, little did she know that there was someone whose heart fluttered every time she entered a room - a person who found solace in the comforting embrace of her presence. That person was you, whose life had been forever changed by the warm and gentle love of Sam.

From the moment you met Sam, you felt an instant connection, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together. Her bright eyes and kind words made your heart skip a beat, and it wasn't long before you found yourself falling deeply in love with her.

Sam, in all her glory, reciprocated your feelings with an unwavering devotion. She adored the way you saw the world and the tenderness you showed her. To her, you were an ethereal presence, a guiding light that illuminated her darkest corners.

As your relationship grew, so did your appreciation for Sam's affectionate nature. She had an innate ability to sense when you needed a hug or a gentle touch, and her arms became your safe haven. The way she held you close, her heartbeat in sync with yours, made you feel loved and cherished beyond measure. One lazy afternoon, as you curled up on the couch together, Sam peppered your face with sweet kisses. Each touch of her lips against your skin felt like a delicate caress, sending shivers down your spine.

You blushed, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through your body. "And you, Samantha giddings, have the most magical kisses. They make me feel like I'm floating in the sky."

Sam chuckled softly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. "Well, I could kiss you forever, you know. You're my everything."

In that moment, time seemed to stand still. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you, intertwined in a love that transcended words. It was a love that found solace in stolen moments and tender touches. your love for Sam only deepened. Every hug she gave you was like a warm embrace, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety and love. Her touch had the power to heal your wounds and calm the storms within.

In return, you found joy in showering her with affection, delighting in the way her face lit up with a radiant smile whenever you planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. Your love was a dance, a harmonious rhythm that only the two of you could hear. Nobody else would understand.

Together, you created a world where love reigned supreme, where hugs and kisses were the language spoken between two souls deeply entwined. You found a love that surpassed your wildest dreams, and in each other's arms, you discovered the meaning of true bliss.

And as you drifted off to sleep, Sam's arms wrapped protectively around you, you knew that your love story would forever be etched in the stars, a testament to the power of love, tenderness, and the undeniable magic that existed between you and Sam.

[eleanore-delphinium]

The Beginning of a New Life: The New Member

JLDAW AU

1 : Damirae Week 2020 : BOUND TOGETHER

2 : Damirae Week 2020 : SOULMATES

3 : Damirae Week 2020 : MARRIAGE 

4 : I remember You

5: The Beginning of a New Life: The New Member ( YOU ARE HERE )

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Recap of the New Timeline After JLAW

I woke up with a gasp, the air within my room felt heavy. I sat up on my bed as I wipe sweat from my forehead.

“Great! You’re awake!” My father says annoyed. “You were making me feel things I do not appreciate, child.”

“Like what father?” I ask just as annoyed.

“Miserable.” He grunts.

“Good. Because that is what I feel with you, and I hope you feel that too.” I mutter at him and he starts cursing me for being ungrateful. I ignore him so that I can focus on my surroundings to calm myself down.

I look at my room in the Titan Tower. Everything seemed normal, nothing was out of place. My father was right. I felt miserable when I had woken up from my sleep. Why did I feel miserable? Oh yes, it was because of my dream—no that was a nightmare.

The details—what were the details? I found that I couldn’t recall my dream. A dream? What dream am I thinking about? The one from last night?

I slowly lie back down in bed; it was still night out. I was just confused from being woken up suddenly by my annoying father. Yes, I will back to sleep now.

I allow the drowsiness to come to me. Today was a very tiring day, I need to go back to sleep. My eyes flutter back to sleep.

I felt like there were people in my room talking. It was faint, but it was a full-on conversation.

“Will I remember you?” A male voice says.

“Yes…” I felt something warm against my lips. “Unknowingly…” The female voice continues with a sad tone.

“Like the word at the tip of your tongue, like a memory you couldn’t completely recall, like a kiss from a butterfly…” I muttered as she finishes what she was saying, our words completely in synced. I wondered if I was having a fever dream. It had been a really long day.

“A feeling you cannot shake.” I felt that I had to hold onto those words. Yes. I have to hold onto those words. They were important. I know they were. I felt that there was even something more that was said before it ended.

Wait, what ended? My heart felt like it was being clenched.

What was it that I was supposed to hold onto? A tear slips from my eyes.

Why do I feel so sad? It was probably nothing. Yes, it was nothing. And everything was dark.

“You and I have become soul mates. You are bound to me as I am bound to you. No matter when or where, this will be true. Even if we do not know.”

I awoke with a jolt as though I was falling.

“Raven, hurry up, we have a new member coming!” I heard Garfield yell from outside my door. I gave him a hurried reply and I prepared myself to meet the new member.

“Meet at the yard!” Garfield yells outside my room.

When I got to the yard the Batmobile was coming to view from a far. I felt a tug on my heart, I couldn’t help but frown.

“Is Dick the surprise, Kori?” I couldn’t help but ask. And she looks at me with a smile.

“Of course, not silly! Don’t you remember? Today we are going to take in a new member—I told you all about this a few days ago.” The car had stopped in front of us and the doors opened. I saw black hair and my heart skipped a beat. “The new Robin, Damian.”

A boy with black hair stood before us in his Robin uniform. And my heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. And my eyes couldn’t help but follow a certain person’s black hair.

He looked different; It felt like I had not seen him in ages. He certainly looked different. But his black hair was the same. My heartbeat quickened as he approached. Closer and closer.

The black suit with blue over his chest suited him well. Dick and Kori approached one another and gave each other a quiet squeeze with their hands and I looked away awkwardly. What was I thinking, this is bad, this crush is bad.

I evaded the couple and somehow my eyes drifted to the new member. He too had black hair, and wore the robin suit. And my breath hitched at the sight.

No. Not again. Not this again.

But I felt that he was feeling perplexed. My face must have shown too much. I felt naked under his eyes. They were the color of emeralds– of evergreen trees– of a forest so lush that the scene would always take your breath away.

I was facing the newcomer but my eyes looked elsewhere.

“You must be Damian.” I said rubbing my arm, hoping he had really not noticed what I have been trying to hide for so long.

“Yeah.” He replied, and my eyes couldn’t help but flicker at him. I felt a different kind of breathlessness when I heard his voice and it amplified when his green eyes stared back at me. 

In my mind, I saw a man with black hair overlap his figure but it was so blurry, that I wasn’t sure if it matched. I couldn’t even see his face, and soon after I could barely recall the image.

But I knew for a fact that I had seen very briefly the man I’ve been dreaming about. And that his image was overlapping over Damian. Somehow it felt almost so right. But didn’t I feel a similar thing with Dick and Tim?

I blinked in confusion. The thought disappeared from my mind. And there was just him. A boy I just met that wore such a perplexed expression on his face.

Even in his confusion, it felt like it was mine too. 

He must have noticed. I looked away in shame.

“Do you—do you want help?” I offered, waving a hand at his duffle bags.

“Oh—uh—sure.” He said and offered me the smaller bag. Our fingers lightly brushed one another and I felt both our confusion through the contact. There seemed to be something there. No, it’s probably in my head.

After all, it’s a Robin.

This would only make it the third time that I fell for the boy in the costume.

I really do have a type. I couldn’t help but click my tongue silently.

“I thought you said he had an attitude?” I heard Kori ask Nightwing as I turned on my heel.

“I honestly can’t believe this. He actually even offered his bag.” I heard Nightwing reply. I felt Damian’s emotions turn sour.

“Let me lead you to the tower then, and your room.” I quickly said and somehow it quelled his anger. “By the way, this is Garfield,” I said as I pointed at Garfield. “And this is Jaime, and the one talking with Nightwing is Kori, which I’m sure you already know.”

I hear him hum a response as I feel his acknowledgement to the information and I nod. My pace was a bit hurried but Damian matched it well. I just didn’t want to see them. It hurt even more when I saw Dick from the back, the pain would be laced with the faintest hint of fear. And I don’t know why, I never know why.

Dick was Kori’s boyfriend. I don’t understand why I was feeling this way.

This obsession I have over men with black hair, must have stemmed from the dreams I’ve been having recently. No, to be honest, these dreams weren’t a recent occurrence. I just so happened to be more aware now. This man whom I have been longing for—for who knows how long– would I even recognize you?

When I saw Dick Greyson for the first time in his Robin uniform, my heart was beating so loudly. I was convinced everyone could hear it. But when his mask was off, I was overwhelmed with such great disappointment. The same thing happened with Tim Drake. I was at the point of wishing for this dream man to arrive already. But I could barely see that person, even in my dreams, everything was a blur. And the moment he slipped out of my mind, I instantly forget that I even longed for him.

You. Who has been haunting my dreams. Who are you?

“Raven?” Someone called out as a hand wrapped around my wrist, I looked up and saw beautiful green eyes. And I felt like the world just stopped for a moment.

No. Not again.

I quickly evaded his green eyes as I calmed my heart down and pulled away a bit too quickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude.” I added when I felt his disappointment and confusion.

“Rae, are you okay, you just stopped walking.” Garfield said his hand extended to touch me.

I don’t even know what you look like—this man in my dreams. 

I looked at Garfield with a downcasted gaze and sighed aloud, “Yeah, just… you know, just worried about our mission…” I shook my head and smiled trying to dispel the longing I had for a stranger. 

It was unfortunate, but the longing was more of a distraction than anything. 

“Anyways, we got a new member. Kori plans to have a small get-together–” I had turned to Damian but froze as I stared at his serious gaze. The feeling that told me that there was this level of familiarity had gripped me so tightly that I couldn’t think.

“Rae?” Garfield placed an arm around my shoulder, breaking me from the sheer and raw emotion that was clawing at me. Demanding to be acknowledged. 

“I’m sorry, my head is aching again.” I gave a little shake of my head as I touched my temple with one hand. 

Garfield looked at me worriedly and nodded, “Why don’t I take the new guy around and you go and rest.” He glanced at the bag I was holding and took it away from me. I sighed aloud and gave Damian a small smile.

“Sorry.” I politely said and Damian smiled at me in such a pure manner that I was left startled by it. I nervously looked away from him and Garfield as I mumbled a thank you to the green boy.

I quickly rushed back into my room, I felt quite overwhelmed. There were just way too many new things happening. In some cases, some reoccurring things too. I can’t keep falling for each man with black hair. Well, it seems like it’s a natural course for my heart to skip a beat the moment I see black hair.

I sighed aloud as I slumped down to the floor against my room door. The coolness was oddly comforting.

This was ridiculous. I can’t keep doing this.

But it’s not like I was doing this on purpose.

I brought my legs to my chest as I hugged them and buried my face in my legs.

‘You are such a foolish child.’ I rolled my eyes at my father’s words.

“I’m quite well aware.” I mumbled, but I am sure my father didn’t know the details of my dilemma, just my general emotions. The thought was comforting.

‘I wonder what that orange-haired friend of yours would think if she knew how your heart beats when you see her boyfriend.’ I sighed aloud. Azar, I hope Kori wouldn’t ever know. I can’t even explain why I felt like this every time. I admit, I even started feeling something for the newcomer too.

Azar, make this end. 

I squeezed my eyes but the image of black hair and a sunset behind the dark figure came to mind. 

“Why can’t I see your face?” I whispered, feeling exhausted even though I had just woken up. 

~.~.~.~.~.~

Somehow Damian and I became close. It felt rather organic. Right even. Like it was destiny. 

Sometimes when I see him I would feel my hands become sweaty, my heart would beat a little too fast and I couldn’t breathe. But this wasn’t new to me. I had felt this way for his older brothers too. It was unfair for him if he caught on to how I was reacting around him when… Well, honestly, I act the same way, around each other Robin that came my way.

I had to control whatever this is– because clearly this wasn’t love or a mere crush. It just seemed like a toxic obsession. And I didn’t want Damian to be the third victim of this yearning that has been consuming me whole.

It’s just so unfair. I just wish I could see the face of the man that has got me feeling like this, then maybe I can find him and not look for some replacement. Because at this point, it just feels like I am looking for his next potential replacement.

And I already feel so bad when I look at Damian and think: maybe it’s him.

This needs to stop. I need to let him go. This stranger that I knew I loved with everything I had to offer. It’s kinda funny–sad really– how certain I am that I love him when I have never even dated someone and love someone that way. At least in this life, all those were foreign to me.

I suspect that maybe that black haired man in my dreams was someone from a past life. 

He must have really left an impression on me. Or rather my soul. For me to continue looking for him the way that I was. Too long for him and his presence. 

But I need to let him go. I need to tell someone. And I know just who to let this all out. 

Damian.

He wouldn’t judge me.

And so I did. I told him how I had liked his brothers but not how he himself was making me feel– the same thing as they had. Because whatever I was feeling for Damian was likely the same as his brothers– just a fleeting emotion that stemmed from wanting to fill a void that just can’t be filled in by just anyone. 

I know that the only one who could fill the void is the man in my dreams. It had to be him. But I don’t know who he is. 

And this is just so exhausting. 

I need space to not be driven by this longing for a stranger.

And even when I decided to put up a shield so I don’t feel others emotions Damian did not judge me. I do find it odd how easily I bonded with him, but there is this strong sense of doubt that would tell me that maybe we got close because of my desperation to fill my longing for that stranger– with gorgeous black hair.

But that doesn’t matter now. I have made my decision.

I’m letting him go, and hopefully this longing for him would vanish too.

My days went by peacefully. It felt like I was freed from shackles that I didn’t even know were there until they were gone. 

I felt so light.

So relieved. 

Every passing moment felt more meaningful as I wasn’t keeping an eye out to meet this man in my dreams. I admit, there were times I would find myself thinking about those dreams– that I can’t really recall. And then there would be some thoughts that linger in my head. 

Like how I know he had a nice smile, but it wasn’t like I could see it in my dream because the light was just too bright or the fact that he looked like a mere shadow. 

But I knew it to be a fact.

There were times however, where I felt like there was a familiar gaze on me and I was certain that for a moment, it was the person I was longing for. And when I try to look for the source I see no one out of the ordinary or more like no one was looking at me. 

I admit though, there were times that my eyes would meet the vibrant green eyes of Damian. And Azar, I admit, I desperately wished that it was him. 

Then I remember that I thought the same of Tim because Dick left an impression that seemed to have caused a domino effect on me. Every man after Dick with black hair just screamed at me, seeking my attention.

Because if I didn’t pay attention to them, it felt like I wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“Raven.” I looked up from writing in my journal, jumping a little on my bed as I was startled. 

It was Damian and he looked rather conflicted. I was laying on my bed with my belly down as I wrote. I didn’t notice him enter my room or knock. But by the way he stayed by the door I could tell that he likely had been trying to get my attention for a while and opted to enter because he had something important to say.

I didn’t really mind. I often think about why I allow Damian to do things I normally wouldn’t want others to do. I think it’s because of his black hair. A trait I can’t seem to resist. 

I sat up, closing my journal and waving it and disappeared, “Sorry, I was consumed in my writing. I like to write and let my thoughts out.” 

Damian stared at me and nodded, “I understand, I keep a journal myself too.”

I was surprised by the information and a smile bloomed on my face. I casted my gaze down, trying to hide the amusement in my eyes from him. When I knew that I wasn’t giving my emotions away I looked back at him and he looked rather nervous which made me frown.

He was rubbing his arm and stayed at the same spot, his eyes avoiding me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked cautiously and his eyes flickered at me and I could clearly see the guilt. I found myself at a loss for words. It was almost like there was a voice from within me telling me that he should never feel guilty. He should never look at me like that.

“I didn’t want to.” He began and I furrowed my brows. I gestured for him to take a seat on my bed and he walked to me with guilty eyes.

He sat on the bed with his head bowed as he continued, “Dick suggested I ask for your help– and Batman– he… he ordered it.”

I pressed my lips, patiently waiting for him to clearly state his intentions.

He looked up at me and the guilt in those green eyes knocked my breath away. For a moment, I had thought that my shield was down. He made me feel that guilt with that one look. It felt so familiar too. Like I’ve seen him look at me like that before, but I know I haven’t. 

This was the first time I ever saw him this vulnerable.

So why was the sense of him looking at me like that– so strongly wrong?

But I controlled myself and the emotion I was feeling. I reached out for him, my hand on top of his and stared at him earnestly with an encouraging smile on my lips.

He stared back at me for a moment and then sighed aloud, closing his eyes, “I know you had just told me that you placed your shield up,” His eyes opened and the guilt was still there, “And I understand why you did it. And I must sound like such an ass for saying this, but I need you to bring it down. I need your help. I didn’t want to have to get you involved because I know–”

I squeezed his hand and he looked down at our hands then looked up at me and I told him, “Consider it done.” I didn’t even know the details, but I trust that Damian wouldn’t ask me such a thing if it wasn’t important.

He blinked at me, “Raven, you don’t have to do this I–”

I smiled at him and he seemed to have frozen and I shook my head, “You wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. So, what is the mission?”

I chewed my lower lip as I tried to focus, the way Damian was looking at me was making me think of the phantom man in my dreams. Almost everything would lead back to that man. 

Damian was looking at me right now as if he was wondering how he got someone so great at his side. And I was being washed by this overwhelming familiarity and longing. 

He inhaled heavily as I found him looking at our hands and he fidgeted with my hand. It was the first time that he did this but I didn’t hate it. Again, it just felt familiar and right.

“I need you to use your empathic abilities like a tracker.” He started and I nodded, low-key enjoying the warmth from his rough hands. “We will have to be undercover at Gotham Academy for this mission. Something is up and I honestly can’t figure it out. They were hoping your particular skill set can help.”

I was silent and he looked up at me with worry.

“I’ve never been to a school.” I smiled weakly while raising my shoulders a little bit. I understood now why he was so guilty. I didn’t want to feel others' emotions and here he was asking me just that.

“I’m sorry…” He couldn’t help but say, squeezing my index finger and for that second I wished he had intertwined his fingers with mine.

I shook my head to remove the thought from my mind, “You wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t important.” I stood up letting go of his hand before I acted on my impulses. “I guess we have to meet Batman or Dick to be briefed?” I smiled faintly, putting my hands behind my back, still feeling his touch.

And how much I was longing for it. I hope it wasn’t clear on my face.

He nodded then stood up, his fingers fidgeting against each other as if he had lost something. He then brushed invisible dust off his thighs, “Yeah, they have prepared your cover in case you’d say yes.”

I smiled and then adapted a teasing tone to lighten the mood up, “I bet they prepared it knowing I won’t say no.”

He shook his head with a small smile on his lips.

“I mean, how could I say no to my leader?” I added, glancing at him as I took a step toward the door and it looked like his eyes were sparkling.

“You could always say no to me, I wouldn’t be angry.” He said and I was surprised with his words, causing me to stop in my tracks. 

I crossed my arms and raised a brow at him. “Oh really? A lot of the members would insist that you have some favoritism toward me– and if they hear that, they will be very convinced about this favoritism you have.” 

He laughed a little at my words and the laughter felt familiar. I wondered if Dick and Tim made me feel like this when they do these kinds of little things. I pushed the thought away. It’s always just me feeling this way.

“Maybe I do.” He shrugged his broad shoulders as he walked away from me, leaving me speechless.

“Well? Aren’t we going to Batman?” Damian asked, peeking at me by the door. I looked at him with clear annoyance.

“You really should keep that to yourself. The team would not be happy.” I replied walking toward him. He looked thoughtful and then ultimately shrugged.

I was annoyed. The small interaction I had with him right now, made me long for that man in my dreams. And this longing was even deeper than normal. And that is saying a lot as I knew that the longing was pretty heavy as it already is.

And yet also, I couldn't help but wonder if his words were serious. And if that statement was real, was I really his favorite or maybe it was someone else and he was just teasing me. 

But if it was really me, then why me? 

The thought of him favoring me made my heart flutter.

Did I even deserve it?

‘No. You locked up your own father.’ Trigon suddenly said and I rolled my eyes. 

~.~.~.~.~.~

Did you guys like it? Did it frustrate you? Well, I just hope you guys enjoyed it.

[heartbeatan]

The Art of Revenge (Chapter 8)

Return to Chapter 7.

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Return to Table of Contents.

Return to One Nights Series.

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Chapter 8

You woke up the next morning bright and early after another night of great sex… like really, really great sex. You didn’t stay up all night, the way you had on your first night together, but you did make love until the early hours of the morning. But last night, everything between you was just so much more… intense.

You looked over to look at a sleeping Jungkook beside you, and admired the soft way his bare chest rose and fell with each of his deep breaths. It made you think of how good it felt when that chest of his was dragging over your hardened nipples, while he had you caged beneath him and was rolling his body into yours. You remembered the breathy way he moaned your name, or called you “baby” or told you how fucking good it felt to be inside you. And you remembered when he could no longer form words, how instead his appreciation and mounting pleasure began to wheeze out of him in whining pants. And when he came… God, you loved how he crushed your body, and the hard way he ground his pelvis into yours. Most of all, you remembered the feel of him shuttering in your arms with every single burst of pleasure he spilled into you.

The sex had been sensual, sweet, and dirty - and your minds and bodies had been so incredibly in sync. You marveled at how you had achieved such intimacy with someone you weren’t in a relationship with, nonetheless, someone you hardly knew. Wasn’t that kind of connection reserved for great loves? Or was it reserved for people who had no-strings arrangements? Was it the lack of attachment that allowed all your inhibitions to be cast aside - because you didn’t worry if he saw you completely undone, or cared that he knew how crazy he made you feel?

The sex had also been long and unrushed. Instead of fighting to come as many times as you could fit into a night, you both were patient… taking your time to pleasure each other, to tease each other, to drink in every single sensation, and bring yourselves to the brink over and over again - until finally you came, and it felt like every unsung orgasm had burst out of your soul all at once.

After it was all said and done, after you cleaned yourselves up in an unnecessarily long shower together, you changed the sheets (because, well, that was necessary.) Then, you crawled back into bed, and you fell asleep over his chest to the steady lullaby of his heartbeat, and the feeling of his fingers tracing the length of your spine.

Now, you looked past Jungkook to the alarm clock on his side of the bed. You were surprised to see it was barely half-past six. But after the week you had, you figured your survival response was kicking your REM cycle to the curb. You pulled yourself out of bed and tiptoed off towards the bathroom to clean up.

Fifteen-minutes later, you sat on the edge of the mattress, hovering over a still-sleeping Jungkook. Just as he had woken you up a couple days ago, you smoothed a palm gingerly over him, and called his name softly until he began to stir.

He opened his eyes, just enough to see that it was you above him, but then close them again as sleep fought to keep him from you.

“Hey,” he said groggily, stretching a blind hand out to touch you, finding gentle purchase over your wrist.

“I’m gonna go into town for a little bit,” you said softly.

“Mm,” he acknowledged with a subtle nod. “Just gimme a minute, I’ll come with you.”

“No, stay. Sleep. I’ll get out of your hair for a bit.”

“I like you in my hair.”

You bit down on your beaming smile. “Do you need anything?”

“Mmmm,” he hummed again as he thought. “Where are you going?”

“I was going to get a present for Hyejin.”

“You don’t need to do that. I got her something.”

“I want to. I’m just gonna get a bottle of wine.”

“I have wine. You can take one.”

“I wanna get out for a bit.”

A sleepy smirk curled his lips. “I said you’d get sick of me first.”

“That’s not it,” you chuckled. “I got some stuff I should check up on. You know… when the real world starts calling your truck looking for me, I figure I should do a check-in.”

“Okay,” he said, stroking his fingers along your arm. “Just promise to come back.”

“I promise. Text me if you think of something.”

He nodded, then went fairly still - you could tell sleep was overtaking him again. You moved to sit up, but before you could, Jungkook’s hand tightened around your wrist. You looked back at him.

“That’s not how you leave a man’s bed, Y/N,” he said.

You stifled a blush, then did as he asked. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. You kissed him chaste and gentle, letting your lips linger a touch longer than they probably should.

“One more,” Jungkook mused when you pulled back. And once again you complied, kissing him a touch firmer and a touch longer.

“One more,” he said again.

“Last one,” you said sternly, kissing him a final time, then jumping to stand up before he could distract you from your schedule. With a sweet and self-satisfied smile on his face, he rolled over onto his side, showing off his impressive arms and muscular back, and pounded a squishy pillow beneath his body.

⁂

You were in town a little after 7AM, but since the liquor store wasn’t open for another hour, you grabbed yourself a coffee and a breakfast bagel, then parked your car in some lot overlooking the public beach, and jeered at all those eager go-getters who were jogging along the boardwalk. On any other day, you might have been one of those go-getters, but today, they just made you feel lazy.

You decided it was time to turn on your phone. You thought it might be a good idea to make sure your stepmother hadn’t forced your father to call in the military or something. You were relieved when you discovered no one had. You were also relieved that the volume of daily messages flooding your notifications had dropped significantly. People were getting your message: you didn’t want to be bothered.

The eviction notice for Chris was prepared by your lawyer, and she informed you that she sent it to him in a registered letter. She also emailed you a copy for your records, or for you to issue to him yourself. You fantasized about what he would look like if you were the one to hand it to him. You even workshopped a few punchy lines you could say. But then again, cutting him off from you cold turkey was thus far proving to be driving him mad. A registered letter would be just the cutthroat coldness he deserved. If you were lucky, from this point onward you may never have to see that man’s face ever again. Regardless of how he got the notice, however, this PDF in your box was a sobering reminder that this was really happening. This chapter of your life was officially beginning to close. You needed to start looking to begin a new chapter.

You also found another important email from your travel agent about the honeymoon trip. It was scheduled for the late fall, so you would have been escaping the first of the winter chill, then returning in time to celebrate your first Christmas together as a married couple. The first two weeks you were going to spend traveling like tourists, seeing historic landmarks, eating delicious foods, and appreciating the cultures of the places you visited. The final two weeks were a complete and total winddown at a romantic resort. You were going to spend your days lazily sunbathing in the sand, and making love every night to the soundtrack of crashing waves on the beach. You hadn’t been on a proper vacation in years - or ever, really - and your honeymoon was a dream trip. But you weren’t going anymore - and you almost hated Chris the most for that.

The email from your travel agent was full of apologies and regrets.

Yes, he was also a friend of yours, and yes, he had heard the news.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t be completely refunded for the trip. That didn’t seem so bad, except that the part that couldn’t be refunded equated to about half the cost. Poetic, since half of the parties involved caused the honeymoon’s demise. But the whole trip could be postponed for a year, or he could offer you vouchers which would be good for five. You had until the end of the month to decide. You typed out a reply to him, letting him know you would think about it, and asked him about other potential options. As you did, you began asking yourself the what-ifs of not canceling the trip. You had already blown away your vacation time by taking this month off, but perhaps they’d allow you to take an unpaid leave – emotional distress and all - and you could just go by yourself. Or perhaps you could take a friend with you. In the past, that friend would have been Stephanie, so that option was tricky. She had been your best friend and all - it’s not like there was a dugout full of best friends waiting for their turn at the plate. One would think a free month-long vacation would be something people would jump at. But the truth was, most of your friends were married with small kids, and had jobs that wouldn’t let them blow off work for a month.

Perhaps… Jungkook would go with you? If anyone had time, he would…

You licked your lips as you thought about it.

You could see it so vividly in your mind. Walking hand-in-hand through cobblestone streets, not unlike how you had already walked together along the streets of his town. You would have your bucket hat and dorky waist bag, and he would probably look like some cool Ray-Ban Sunglass model. You could also imagine how it would smell when you made love in your oceanside hotel room. The salty air, his natural scent mingling with sweat, and how amazing the cool breeze from the window would feel over your bare and heated skin.

Sitting alone in your car, your hips began to subtly move as you thought about it. It was a fantasy too perfect to ever be a reality. Today was only your third day together. Five days ago… or maybe six… you were engaged to be married to someone else. You lived hours away from each other already, and soon he’d be going on tour. You barely knew each other… this was just about sex. This was just about revenge.

But… when you thought about the way he touched you, and looked at you, and the way he fucked you… was it really all that crazy to think that there was more happening between you than sex and revenge? If you stayed with him longer – the way he had offered - would it be so unrealistic to think that after his tour, he’d be willing to jump on a plane with you and do it all again for another month? What if it became more than a month…

“You gotta stop,” you said out loud to yourself. Even if by some chance Jungkook was feeling the way you were feeling after only two nights together, you knew pursuing anything more right now would be stupid. You were grieving, and he was a warm body that showed you affection. Even with a level head, daydreaming about uprooting your life for a fuckbuddy after barely three days was insane. So certainly, and unlevel head couldn’t be trusted to know if your feelings were anything more than insecure need.

Maybe I need to leave, you kept this thought in your head, in case saying it out loud might make it happen. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay – for as long as he’d have you. But the longer you stayed… the more likely it was that you’d end up with two broken hearts in under thirty days. Maybe you should go back to your home… even though, as you thought about it, it didn’t feel like much of a home anymore.

“Not today,” you rationalized, shaking your head as you came to a resolution. You couldn’t leave him today. When you left him this morning, he made you promise that you would come back to him. You also said you would go to a party with him.

Plus, you looked up to a bright, clear, cloudless sky, it might rain today, and driving in the rain is unsafe.

Nope. Today would not be a good day to drive back to your broken life. You could check the weather tomorrow – and with any luck, it might actually look like it could rain.

With that, you tossed your phone into your purse, turned the ignition, rolled out of the parking lot, and made your way to the liquor store.

⁂

You wandered alone through town for another hour or so. It hadn’t been your intention - you were planning on returning to Jungkook’s house after you dealt with a few more break-up details and bought the wine. But as the town became more and more lively, you felt yourself drawn into it. It was a gem of a place - like something you would see in a movie or read about in a romance novel. A romance novel that probably wouldn’t have started out much unlike your own story. A heroine, escaping her big and busy life due to some tragedy, taking a pilgrimage to a quaint, coastal village to stay in the house her estranged Aunt had bequeathed to her, then falling in love with the hunky grounds keeper or something like that. Tragedy you had, inheritance you didn’t have, but hunky man you definitely had several times over. Two out of three. The question now was how the story was going to end. You didn’t know. But as you thought about it, as you walked the concrete sidewalks, and wandered through the farmers market, and peered into the restaurants and shops - which all seemed to have a live and in love display couple canoodling in their front windows - you wished he was there with you.

Your phone began to vibrate, and you were relieved to find Jungkook’s number pop up on the screen, and wondered if your fantastical thoughts had somehow willed him to call you. Maybe he’d meet you down here, and you could go on an adventure like you had the day before, and maybe even give his truck another test run.

“Hi,” you greeted him cheerfully.

“Heyyy,” he drawled out the greeting, and you knew something was up. “Where are you?”

“Still in town. What’s up?”

“Well… had a bit of an emergency up here, and I was hoping you could maybe do us a favour?”

Us? you wondered who the us in the equation was.

“Sure,” you replied.

“I’ve got some clients that showed up here needing to use the studio, and the lawn, and they want me to take some photos. They’re on a pretty tight deadline.”

“Oh?” you sounded surprised. Which was fair… this wasn’t the type of “emergency” you were used to getting called about.

“Yeah, sorry… If we could have scheduled it for another day I would have but… they won’t be here long though.”

“No, no, no,” you shook your head. “It’s fine. You do what you need to do.”

“Thanks, babe.”

You went still when you heard the pet name roll so casually off his tongue. You couldn’t see him, but he seemed to pause as well as he registered the slip. “Babe” was something that was okay in the bedroom, but to be used outside of the bedroom was… different.

“Thing is…” he sounded sheepish now, like he was embarrassed about what he was about to say. “They need something from town, and I was hoping you could pick it up? And maybe some pizzas?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed. In fact you were relieved you could make yourself useful and finally find a way to help him out. “What do I need to get and how many pizzas?”

“Body paint. Specifically the edible kind.”

You paused again, tilting your head as your mind ticked with why on earth edible body paint would be needed for a photoshoot. “What kinda clients are these, Jungkook?” you teased.

“I swear, it's not a kinky thing,” he laughed. “Although, it could be if you’re into it.”

You smiled, “Maybe not in front of an audience.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “Basically, my friend got a cool opportunity to be a costume and makeup artist for a theater production. But she needs to submit her proposal by tomorrow - hence the emergency. But, apparently some of the colors from the edible brand at the adult store look better or show up better on camera or something - and she is out.”

“Which colors do I need to get?”

“Umm…” he thought, then you heard him moving through his house, and then you heard the chatter of people in the background. “Colleen, what colors do you need?”

“They come in a pack. Can she get two?”

“Did you catch that?” Jungkook said to you.

“Yup. And where is this place.”

“Well, it’s a small town and all, so it’s in a strip mall right next to the highway exit, facing the road so that everyone can see your shame and gossip about it.”

“Oh, great. I was really looking to build a reputation for myself,” you mocked. “And where should I get the pizza?”

“Right next door. I’ll pay you when you get back?”

“Not unless you want me to tan your ass next,” you quipped, then began looking around you since you had just recklessly made a sex joke in the middle of a wholesome market full of people.

“Well, shit,” Jungkook laughed. “Try to keep it professional, Y/N. This is work.”

You rolled your eyes, "You literally just propositioned me with leftover edible body paint."

"Did I?" he feigned ignorance.

“Alright, buddy," you gave up with another laugh and another eye roll. "Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No. That’s all. Call me if you have trouble.”

“Will do. See you soon.”

⁂

Jungkook’s house looked like pure chaos when you returned. There were five cars, several people running across the lawn, a few more running in and out of the house, and equipment and props strung randomly across the property.

You went inside, smiling at a few frantic strangers with garment bags who rushed by you with a short and polite “hello!” then made your way to the kitchen to set down the pizzas. You hadn’t spotted Jungkook yet, but you deduced from the phone call that he would likely be in his studio. You took the paint packages you had bought, and made your way towards the studio - a bit excited since you hadn’t had the chance to see inside it yet.

The first thing you saw, however, stopped you in your tracks. There were two people - a man and a woman - standing on some sort of platform in the middle of the space. They were naked. Well… depending on ones definition of naked. They had on tight, shiny blue underpants, and the rest of their bodies were half covered in blue paint to match. You were also staring down two asses. The one on the left, the one in front of the man, definitely belonged to Jungkook. At this point, you could recognize that cake from the Hubble. He was bent over, with a canister of paint in one hand and a brush in the other, while he colored over the man’s legs. The other ass was that of a woman’s, also bent in front of the female model as she painted - and you reasonably assumed it was Colleen.

“Sorry,” you looked down and put your hand up like a visor to shield your eyes from the models. You weren’t sure what protocol was here when in the presence of nude professionals, or if you had broken it. “I brought the paint.

“You can look!” the woman model called to you, then laughed, “Everyone else has already seen it.”

That was a relief. You looked back up to meet the eyes of the artist in question, as well as Jungkook.

“Oh my God,” Colleen rushed up to you. “Thank-you so much! You’re a lifesaver,” she beamed, then aggressively grabbed the packages from your hands and began tearing them open.

Jungkook laughed at the exchange, then whinked at you before returning to his painting.

Poor Colleen looked frantic - and it made you feel frantic, like you should be doing something instead of just ogling over her work, her naked models, and your busy revenge partner's tight butt.

“Can I do anything to help?” you offered, and the question seemed to give her a stroke.

“Actually,” Jungkook jumped in, then walked over to you and handed you the paint and the brush. “Can you help with this for a bit? I’m gonna get my camera ready and take a few shots of the process. Is that okay?” he looked to Colleen.

“Perfect!” she sang.

“I’m really not a painter,” you warned.

“You don’t have to be,” Colleen said. “This is only the base coat, I just need you to slop it on, then I go back and do all the details. And then when you’re done, I’ve got four more models for you to paint, but Greg might be able to help by then.”

You didn’t know who Greg was, but, it was probably fair to assume he was one of the people darting across Jungkook’s grass.

“I’ll come back and help,” Jungkook said. “Just gimme 15.”

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded, although you didn’t sound sure.

Jungkook leaned in, offering you a polite “welcome home” kiss before he uttered a “thank-you,” then left the room.

You pursed your lips in a bashful line, then looked back to the models, catching both their stares on you - which then made your cheeks heat. You stepped up to the male model, which made you blush even further.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, although you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for. “I’ve never painted a strangers body before. Tell me if I’m being weird.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” the man shook his head empathetically, “I was swindled into this too, and now I’m seven tequila shots into the process. I’m well beyond feeling weird,” he then flung his arms to the side, offering himself like a sacrifice. “Just paint away and try to avoid my balls.”

You chuckled, and Colleen rolled her eyes.

⁂

The whole morning was wild, and rushed by at a pace that seemed inhumanely slow but also disturbingly quick. You were recruited for task after task, becoming yet another body running around the house and across the lawn. You didn’t even get a chance to grab a slice of the delicious smelling pizza - which was fine, since you didn’t even have the mindset to recognize if you were hungry or not.

By early afternoon, the models were painted, and then partially covered with whimsical garments small enough to make even pornstars blush. But the end result was remarkable. The models all looked like some sort of elven creatures. Their skin glimmering in various shades of blues, purples and greens, and adorned with intricate details to make them look like a truly undiscovered species - rather than guys and gals covered in body paint. Then the real photos began to happen, and you were once again put to work, holding up white sheets and mirror looking things to try to capture the proper lighting. This portion of the day was mostly under the direction of Jungkook, and it was endearing to see how he worked. Cool, calm, and casual. Just like he was the first day you saw him. And just like that first day, his presence commanded everyone’s attention. He gave clear, patient instruction, and it was clear he had a great eye for seeing and capturing things that others didn’t. He was a true artist, completely in his element and it made your chest swell with pride to watch him work.

By mid-afternoon, everything was completed, packed up, and the entourage that had invaded the property were barreling down the dirt road with a cloud of dust behind them. Jungkook spent the clean-up time making edits to the photos he took, and handed Colleen a drive of the best ones, before she gave him the tightest of hugs, then ducked into her car to speed off with the rest.

When you returned inside, you both crashed onto his giant bed, sprawling out your limbs, laying flat to stretch out your aching backs, and closed your eyes as you took in a few heavy breaths of air, and reveled in the sound of a once again quiet house.

“That was fun,” you said to him after a few minutes of much needed silence. “And pretty cool, I can’t believe how talented she is.”

“It’s pretty unique what she does,” Jungkook said, linking his hands up behind his head over the pillow. “There’s not a huge market for it yet, but it’s growing. Talent like that should be appreciated.”

“Mm hm,” you agreed, rolling your stiffened body over so you could cuddle yourself over his sturdy chest - a place you had become well accustomed to. “You’re really talented too. Have you ever thought of doing more with photography?”

You felt him shrug. “Yeah, I guess. But, I’ve got my graphic design stuff, and the band and all - who knows how long that will last. I’m not in a rush to run off with National Geographic. But maybe one day. Who knows?”

“How about your painting and digital stuff? Weren’t you supposed to do a gallery event or something?”

He dropped one of his hands and began softly tracing his fingers over your arm strung across his chest. “I didn’t know you knew about all that,” he sounded surprised. “Have you been stalking me, Y/N?”

“Maaaybee,” you said with a sheepish laugh. “Like I said, I needed to know you weren’t a serial killer.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to have a show. In town, but the gallery went under before I could.”

“Oh no!”

“Yeah, it was actually Hyejin’s gallery. That’s how we met. It’s hard to make a go of it up here.”

“Mm,” you nodded against him as you thought. Your work brain was beginning to spin. One of your past clients had been a gallery. Albeit the gallery, as far as you knew, was still fully functioning, and they were in a more populated place, but even then, you remembered how they struggled - and how rewarding it was when you helped them restructure their finances into something more viable. “I wonder if I could help?” you said out loud, mostly to yourself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is part of what I do. I look at the books, and help businesses navigate their finances. There’s tons of grants she could get for a place like that.”

“She could probably use the help, to be honest, I don’t think she’s all that moneywise. Actually a lotta people up here could use the help. You should set up your own practice.”

“There’s none around here?” you looked up at him, intrigued by the idea.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I think most will get someone from the city. But, you know, it makes it tough when they're not here and don't get our economy. You’d make a killing - we love to support local.”

“Hm,” you nodded, raising your eyebrows and pursing your lips as you considered it. That would certainly be a sure-fire way to start over and put Chris and Stephanie far in your rearview mirror. You were selling your house and all already. You might have enough after the sale to start-up your own business - but it would be tight…

“I would be in on all the town gossip. I'd hear about all your skeletons, Jungkook," you smirked. "You find out a lot when you look at someone's books. Could you handle that?”

He narrowed his eyes and spoke in a mocking tone, “I think I’ll survive. Besides, what scandal would you discover? That I'm sleeping with the town's bookkeeper?"

Now that was a thrilling suggestion. An escape, a new home, a lovely new town, and still getting fucked on the regular? By Jungkook? Maybe more than just fucked? What a dream. A dream that you liked a little too much that, once again, it frightened you.

"Bookkeepers and accountants are two very different things, sir," you diverted with feigned offense.

"My mistake,” he feigned an apology. “What’s the difference?”

“Mmm…” you thought. “Well… technically, I guess an accountant can function as a bookkeeper too, but a bookkeeper needs their license to do accounting. Bookkeeping is like… recording and organizing finances. Accounting can be that, but we also analyze and find inefficiencies and report through proper channels. And, well…” you scrunched your nose, “…taxes.”

“Hmm,” he thought for a second. “So it’s like the difference between edible body paint and non-edible body paint? One can make something beautiful and the other can make something beautiful but can also act as nutrition?”

You snorted a laugh. “Umm… that’s a weird analogy, but I guess so.”

“I just wanted to circle back to the fact that we have an unused pack of edible body paint that’s been burning a hole in my mind all day.”

Desire instantaneously began flooding through your system. Between the long day and your aching muscles, you had nearly forgotten about your inspiring trip to the sex shop that morning, but now, it was all you could think about.

You pushed yourself off his chest, then crawled a little further up his body, so you could hover over him. “Well,” you gave him the most seductive look of approval you could offer. “I appreciate the reminder.” You leaned in and kissed him, which he graciously accepted. Then you whispered against his lips. “Let’s do some accounting,” you said, trying to sound sexy without snorting another laugh.

“Ooo, baby, I love when you talk dirty.”

Go to Chapter 9.