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changbunnies · 3 months ago

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Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol

♡ Word Count: 11.2k

♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.

♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)

♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv

♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.

You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on.

The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.

You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.

But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.

He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.

Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.

You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.

He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder.

Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat.

He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.

You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.

He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.

You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.

He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.

And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.

He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room.

Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)

Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.

Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.

“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.

He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.

In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist.

His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.

Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.

He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.

You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.

Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.

He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.

Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit.

Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom.

He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.

You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.

The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.

The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.

The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.

You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.

They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.

You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.

And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.

Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.

“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”

“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?

“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.

His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.

His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real.

“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.

It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better.

“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.

He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”

You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”

“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”

Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.

“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.

Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.

But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.

The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.

And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.

Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck.

“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.

He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.

It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.

“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.

Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.

He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.

He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.

“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”

“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.

“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.

At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.

“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?

You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.

He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.

Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.

You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse.

And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.

You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.

The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.

He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.

And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.

Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.

He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.

Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.

“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.

“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this.

“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”

He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.

It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.

“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.

But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?

Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.

There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.

“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.

“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.

“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.

“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.

“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.

“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.

There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up.

He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.

And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.

All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.

You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.

He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you.

Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.

Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.

He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.

He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.

And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.

He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?

Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips.

Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.

You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.

When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.

Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to.

Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.

“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.

“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.

Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.

“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”

“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.

“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.

“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see.

Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.

“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.

The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.

“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.

Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?

Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.

He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.

Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.

He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.

“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.

Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.

“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.

“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.

When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.

You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.

“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.”

Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.

You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.

He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.

He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.

“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole.

He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.

Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.

Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.

“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.

It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.

It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.

You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.

You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”

It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.

“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.

He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him.

The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.

Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.

“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.

“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”

Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.

You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.

It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.

You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.

He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.

“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.

Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.

He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”

“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune #don't ask me how many times i rewatched the movie while in the process of writing this. (the answer is 10 DFSGDGFG)

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jjungkookislife · 3 months ago

Text

Navigating Tides

♡ pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

♡ genre: exes to lovers, angst, fluff, smut [18+]

♡ summary: A cruise is the last place you expect to see your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. You broke up six months ago, and your best friends Jimin and Yoongi assured you your ex wouldn't even remember this cruise that you booked a year in advance. However, on your first night on board, you discover your ex isn't only on the cruise ship, but there are no rooms available for him to stay in other than yours.

♡ wc: 18.9k

♡ warnings: alcohol use/mention, food mentions, mention of murder on cruise ship documentaries, threats of violence, sexual thoughts, jealousy, making out, marking (hickeys, biting, scratching), hair pulling, oral sex (f. giving and receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

♡ a/n: a huge thank you to the anon who suggested the title ❤

♡ date: September 1, 2024

“Jimin, I don’t think this is a good idea,” you sigh heavily as you adjust your sunhat. Your large sunglasses keep the sun out of your eyes and make it easier to take in your surroundings.

Passengers stand around you, some checking their tickets, others counting their luggage, and your best friend scoping out your next boyfriend while he checks his phone for messages regarding his beloved cat, Moon.

“Come on! You bought the ticket in advance! You know Jungkook isn’t going to show. You broke up six months ago, he wouldn’t come on this cruise if you paid him!” Jimin exclaims trying (and failing) to ease your worries.

“He’s right,” Yoongi chimes in once he gets a photo of his cat from his parents. “Jungkook wouldn’t leave his office to come on a cruise his ex and best friends booked a year in advance. He probably doesn’t even remember it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you give in as the line moves forward. You pull your luggage beside you. “There’s no way he’d be here.”

Jimin nods as Yoongi moves their luggage. You stand in line with your ticket and passport in hand as Jimin rattles on about all the things he wants to do for the next seven days out on the ocean. You half-listen, looking around at the passengers, hoping for a relaxing time.

“We’re a few doors down,” Jimin continues, “but we’ll come get you for all our meals and we can figure out what to do that day. There’s a casino and a karaoke night.”

You nod, smiling as the line moves again. The breeze ruffles your hair beneath your hat and you close your eyes momentarily.

A vacation was just what you needed.

Jeon Jungkook is a strong man. He’s got a lean body and hands that could rip open a pineapple with ease. He normally doesn’t demonstrate his great strength, but the women are eating it up at the bar closest to the dock.

His assistant had reminded him about his vacation last week. A cruise, she had informed him as she showed him the next ten days blocked off his calendar.

Jungkook had denied taking the time off but his assistant had insisted he go. When he tried to protest again, the assistant threatened to call his mother.

Jungkook took a bite of the pineapple before throwing a handful of bills on the bar.

“Gotta go!” He yelled over the ruckus he had caused and grabbed his suitcase with his sticky hands. The women were sad to see him go, but Jungkook had minutes before the cruise ship left the dock.

“Welcome,” Jungkook is greeted before his ticket and passport are checked. He was directed to his floor but Jungkook headed straight for the bar, where more passengers were gathered to get their vacation started.

By the time you get to your room, you’re pleased to see your luggage waiting for you. You head to the balcony, admiring the view as the ship pulls away from the dock.

You take a few minutes to fix your makeup and grab your sunblock before shoving your suitcase under your bed. Yoongi had insisted you cram everything into one large suitcase and he’d bring an extra one for souvenirs. Jimin had allowed you to sneak some more outfits into his luggage since Yoongi knew better than to try to limit his clothing options.

“That should do it,” you say to yourself as you head out of the cabin, just to spot Yoongi and Jimin heading your way.

“Let’s get something to eat and hit the pool,” Jimin grins as he takes your hand and Yoongi’s in the other.

Meanwhile, Jungkook has finished his drink at the bar and heads toward his cabin.

He’s glad to see his suitcase has been delivered and he slides it under the bed easily. He takes his room key and heads back out to see what there’s to do on this cruise.

He wishes he had paid more attention to the details when you had booked it.

Yoongi is soaking wet, shaking his long black hair, making you and Jimin scream. He laughs, his gummy smile makes Jimin melt.

“You’re drying yourself off like a dog,” you comment as he sits in the chair with Jimin.

Yoongi shrugs, leaning forward to take a large bite of the watermelon slice Jimin holds out for him.

Jimin had slathered the three of you in sunblock, lecturing on the dangers of the UV rays and whatnot. You knew better than to ignore his advice, seeing as he was a dermatologist and Yoongi was a plastic surgeon.

“Are either of you going to get in the pool?” Yoongi asks as he cards his fingers through his wet hair. Jimin bites his bottom lip as he watches Yoongi with a look that’s all too familiar.

“Don’t you dare!” You swat at Jimin with your book. The couple laughs.

“You promised I wouldn’t be a third-wheel,” you remind them.

Yoongi nods. “We promised.”

Jimin nods. “Of course, we’re just teasing.”

“More like setting up foreplay,” you mutter but they ignore you as Jimin hands you a slice of watermelon and a cube of pineapple. The two of you were waiting for this evening’s dinner to have drinks, though the cocktails of the passengers around you looked delicious.

“Since we’re on vacation, are you gonna be seeking a dance partner?” Jimin asks wiggling his eyebrows.

“You know, for the horizontal hula?” Yoongi smirks, earning a swat to his arm.

“No! I’m here to relax!” you insist as you open your book. You clasp your kitten bookmark before it can slip out of the worn pages.

Jimin sighs dramatically as he falls over onto your chair. “Come on! You don’t have to marry anyone, just flirt.”

“Min,” Yoongi warns, noting the shift in your posture.

Jimin mimes zipping his lips as he sits up.

“I just worry about you.”

“There’s no need, Minnie. If it happens, it happens, okay?” you ask as you close your book once more, giving up on getting any reading done.

Yoongi places his hand on Jimin’s shoulder, tugging him to their chair. Jimin goes easily, placated for the moment.

You steal a grape from Jimin’s plate before lying back on the chair with your hat covering your face.

Jimin smiles as he grabs his book and lies back to read, his fruit plate long forgotten.

As Yoongi reaches for a grape, his eyes catch a familiar tattoo sleeve but when he blinks, it’s gone.

Must have been the heat playing tricks on him.

Dinner had been a blast.

Yoongi and Jimin had gotten every cocktail that you had eyes on earlier in the day. You danced, laughed, and forgot all about Jungkook.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Jimin said as he walked you to your cabin. Yoongi waited out in the hall outside of theirs’ to make sure Jimin was in his eyesight. He’d seen too many documentaries on shit going sideways on cruises to leave either of you unsupervised.

“Goodnight, Minnie. Love you,” you hug him tight before he leaves you with a kiss to your temple.

Once he’s gone, you kick your shoes off in your cabin. It’s just as you left it.

You let your hair down as you begin to unbutton your blue dress, allowing the thin straps to fall off your shoulders.

You’re startled when the bathroom door swings open, steam flooding out of it, obscuring whoever is there.

You scream!

The steam clears and out walks a man with a colorful tattoo sleeve on one arm, his other hand holding the white towel around his waist.

His doe eyes widen as he spots you.

“What are you doing here?!” you shout at the same time. “Me?! YOU?! Stop that!”

You both stomp a foot at the same time.

Water runs down your ex’s sculpted chest and abs—you can’t help but stare. You remember tracing those delicious abs with your tongue, ending up on your knees with his cock down your throat.

A shiver rolls down your back.

“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” you huff, stomping your foot. You hope your next-door neighbors don’t complain about the noise.

“I’m on vacation,” he answers in a duh tone.

“In my cabin?”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here! We haven’t talked since…” Jungkook trails off, sighing heavily. He feels the knots in his throat, the ache of holding back tears.

“You never take vacations. Why did you come?” you demand answers as you cross your arms over your chest, eyes widening when you realize your bra-clad tits are exposed. You immediately turn around, fixing your dress before facing him once again.

Jungkook rubs his nape awkwardly. He grabs the robe from the bathroom and puts it on.

“I know. My assistant insisted. I never canceled the vacation request and she made plans,” Jungkook shrugged.

“Well, you can’t stay here!” you exclaim, pointing toward the door sharply.

Jungkook says your name, but you glare at him. He raises his hands in defeat.

“At least let me get dressed, okay?”

“Fine,” you grumble as he grabs his suitcase from under the bed. You head to the balcony to sit while Jungkook gets dressed.

This was not how you wanted to spend your vacation. Was it too late to fly home from the next port? You couldn’t be stuck on the same ship with Jungkook for the next seven days and six nights. Just knowing he was on board would drive you up the wall.

Five minutes later, Jungkook is dressed as you reenter the cabin. You go with him to the front of the ship, flagging down someone who could help you.

Jungkook explains the situation, and the cruise worker listens while searching for any available rooms.

“I apologize, but there are no other rooms available. We’re fully booked. You’ll have to stay in the room, sir.”

“But-” You go to protest but the worker cuts you off.

“There’s nothing we can do, ma’am. I apologize but we’re in the middle of the ocean, hours from our first stop.”

“Thanks for checking,” you state in defeat as you turn on your heel with Jungkook behind you.

Back in your cabin, you go to the bathroom to shower. You come out in a robe, going for your suitcase to grab your pajamas before going back into the bathroom.

Jungkook stays out on the balcony until you’re getting into bed.

“I’m sorry. If I had known-”

“Just don’t,” you stop him. He shuts up immediately. “I just want to get through tonight, okay?”

Jungkook nods as you pull the covers over your body. You tug the pillows and place a few between you and the spot where Jungkook will have to sleep.

Silently, Jungkook climbs into bed.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Jungkook whispers as you turn out the lights.

Heat stifles you as you arouse from your sleep. You moan as you push the covers but the pillows’ warmth is still making you hot. You push at them, trying to shove them off the bed, but a grunt greets you instead.

“Quit,” a familiar sleepy voice wakes you up in an instant.

You scramble to sit up, but you’ve wrapped yourself around Jungkook, who is shirtless. His bed head looks adorable as he whines at the loss of warmth before he tugs the covers toward him, sleeping some more.

Quickly, you get dressed and storm out of your cabin.

You could not deal with this without a stiff drink and your best friends.

Part of you hoped you were dreaming.

“He’s here!” you yell when you reach Yoongi and Jimin’s table. Plates of fruit, eggs, and pancakes greet you along with glasses filled with water, some with various types of juices, and mimosas.

You plop down on a free chair, reaching for a mimosa and then Jimin’s. Both men watch you with wide eyes as Yoongi offers you his drink.

“Who’s here?” Jimin asks, befuddled.

Jimin and Yoongi exchange a look. They had watched you go to your room before they retired for the night.

Who could you have run into?

“Jungkook!” You hiss in explanation. “He’s here!”

Yoongi frowns. “I thought that was him.”

You whip your head to face him. “You knew?!”

Yoongi rapidly shakes his head. “I thought I saw him yesterday but when I blinked, he was gone. I thought the heat had gotten to me.”

You cackle, nearly losing your mind. “Well, he’s fucking here! And he’s staying in my room!”

Jimin and Yoongi’s mouths drop open wide in shock.

“He’s what?!” Jimin recovers first as he waves down a waiter and orders more mimosas for the three of you. This revelation demanded a drink.

“Can’t he get a room for himself? Lord knows he can afford it,” Yoongi grumbles as he picks at his buttery toast.

“No, it’s booked solid,” you sigh as you cover your face with your hands.

“Good morning, everyone!” Jungkook greets you before he takes the empty seat beside you. He helps himself to some fruit and some of your mimosa.

Jimin and Yoongi stare at him with wide eyes. So you weren’t lying to go home.

“Hey,” Jimin waves weakly. “Surprising to see you out of the office.”

Jungkook ignores the jab at him. “You look good, Jimin. Very good.”

“Watch it,” Yoongi growls. “Just because he’ll be amicable doesn’t mean I won’t wipe the table with your face.”

Jungkook raises his hands in defeat. “Just being friendly. We are spending the week together after all. Isn’t that right, roomie?”

Jungkook nudges you with his elbow.

“Eat dirt,” you respond as you ignore him and grab a stack of pancakes. You drown them in syrup and ignore Jungkook and Jimin catching up. Yoongi glares at him the whole time before breakfast ends and you head back to your room to get ready to reach the first port.

The first two days on board, you manage to avoid Jungkook after his appearance at breakfast that one morning.

You were three days into your cruise when you were hanging poolside with Jimin and Yoongi once again. The warmth of the sun felt nice on your skin, even with Jimin’s nagging about flipping over and reapplying sunblock.

Your swimsuit was something sexy Jimin had picked out to accentuate your favorite features of your body. He had picked out a few outfits for you and Yoongi to match his. You looked more like a polytriad than a group of friends, but you liked the outfits.

Your sun hat and sunglasses kept out the gazes of any men who would have the slightest interest in you, much to Jimin’s annoyance.

Jimin sits on his sun lounger slathering more sunblock on his skin while Yoongi goes off to get the three of you drinks. You’ve been busy the past few days shopping, eating, dancing, laughing, and enjoying life away from the claws of capitalism.

Shade casts over you, and you look up to see Jungkook’s smiling face, dimples and all.

“What do you want, Jeon?” you huff as you sit up, removing your sunglasses.

Jungkook stands over you, checking you out in your swimsuit. He briefly remembers the times he held you in his arms, when his touch aroused you, not repulsed you.

Jungkook sits down at the end of your seat. His body glistened as if he had just gotten out of the pool. You’re sure there’s at least a gaggle of men and women staring at the both of you. Jungkook attracted attention wherever he went. His glorious body, tattoos, hair, and a radiant smile broke more than just your heart.

His piercings catch the sun, the glint hitting your eyes.

“Yeah,” Jimin pipes up. “This zone is for loading future husbands only.”

You roll your eyes at Jimin but lean back as Jungkook’s body freezes.

“Husbands?”

“Yes,” Jimin retorts, “Husbands.”

“I didn’t know you were looking,” Jungkook said as he looked at you, perplexed.

You shrug.

“I figure the next person I date will be the one.”

Jungkook remains silent. He cards a tattooed hand through his wet hair, and you curse him in your mind. He knew how hot he looked, he just wanted to make you suffer.

You weren’t going to give in to his tricks though.

You move your legs toward you, pretending you don’t want to get hit with water droplets but you can’t ignore the rapid heartbeat between your legs.

“JK!” Yoongi shouts as he approaches, squirting Jungkook with a water gun.

“Hey!” Jungkook shouts as he chases Yoongi, quickly catching up to the older man. A fight ensues as both men try to gain control of the water gun before Jungkook acquires one from a bystander.

“Fuck,” you groan as you put your sun hat back on.

“He’s fucking hot,” Jimin groans as he lies back. You look at each other and burst out laughing.

“He’s a menace,” you sigh but your heart flutters as you spot him in the pool with Yoongi. The two are splashing each other and some of the other passengers but they don’t seem to mind as they join in.

Jimin is silent for a few minutes before he turns to face you.

“Be honest with me, babe. You still love him?”

“Do you even have to ask?” you respond as you watch Jungkook shake the water out of his hair before he pulls himself out of the pool.

Jungkook ignores the way his cock throbs at the sight of you in your sundress as you walk down the hall to meet Jimin and Yoongi. He nearly drools at the sway of your hips as your body shows off all your best assets.

His thoughts easily wander, you were the only one he ever felt like he could be himself. You were his best friend and he’d lost you over a heated argument about him working so much. He had said some things he had regretted, especially when he lost you.

He had spent the last six months thrown into work, avoiding any socialization wherever possible. He didn’t want to meet someone new, he wanted you. But you had blocked him, made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him and now you were confined to a cruise ship and he would do whatever it took to get you back.

You turn when you hear your name being called, and heat rushes to your cheeks when you spot the captain, Kim Namjoon.

He looks divine in his crisp white uniform, his hat tucked under his right arm.

“Good evening,” he greets you with a dimpled grin. You smile brightly at him, asking him about his day.

He had heard about your predicament with Jungkook the following morning and had invited you to a special dinner with him tonight as an apology for the inconvenience.

Normally, you would have denied any sort of offer, not wanting to inconvenience anyone but Namjoon was hot, smart, and funny.

Namjoon offers you his arm, which you take giddily as he escorts you to your private dinner.

Within five minutes he had you laughing, wine threatening to shoot out of your nose.

Jimin had encouraged you to go to dinner after he spotted the captain later that day, and now that Namjoon’s schedule allowed, you sat in front of him in a candlelit room with a spectacular view.

A white ceramic vase sat in the middle of the table with fresh pink peonies. Soft music played from a speaker overhead, and the sound of the ocean filled the background.

Namjoon’s eyes lit up every time he shared a snippet of his tales from the sea. You listened intently, batting your lashes whenever he’d smile with his dimples on display.

You know this wasn’t a date, and it would never work out with how long Namjoon had to be out at sea, but it was nice to get back into the game after such a long time. You never imagined being tossed back into the dating pool after Jungkook.

The thought makes your smile waver for a moment, and you reach for your glass of wine instead.

Two silver-covered trays arrive shortly, stopping Namjoon mid-sentence as he smiles proudly.

“I caught tonight’s dinner. I had our chef cook it with a special sauce that you’ll enjoy,” Namjoon states as your tray is set in front of you and you nod excitedly.

All excitement vanishes as you see two little beady eyes staring back at you.

Jungkook looks immaculate. His undercut is on display, his tattoos pop against his white-button shirt, and his smile can dazzle just about anyone… except Min Yoongi.

Yoongi is the first to spot Jungkook heading to the table where he sits beside his boyfriend. Yoongi had loved Jungkook, still did but his loyalty to you made him pull away from the younger man. An annoyance brewed where he held brotherly love for him once. If you decided to get back with him, it would take Yoongi a while to thaw out.

Jungkook looks around the area, finally asking Jimin where you are.

“She’s on a date,” Yoongi smirks as Jungkook’s hopeful smile turns into a frown. The younger man toys with his lip piercings worriedly.

“With the Captain,” Yoongi continues, ignoring the jab of his boyfriend’s sharp elbow to his ribs. “So she’ll be late coming to bed tonight… if she goes to bed at all.”

Jungkook’s heart deflates further as he twiddles his fingers. His eyes shine as he blinks back tears. Jimin scowls at Yoongi.

Perhaps, he had gone too far. Yoongi slouches into his seat, abashed.

“It’s just dinner,” Jimin tries to assure Jungkook. “They’re on the balcony by the lobby.”

“Jimin!” Yoongi hisses before Jimin elbows his ribs again.

“What? He loves her!” Jimin exclaims, gaining the attention of a few patrons.

Jungkook feels his ears burn from the attention as he thanks Jimin quietly before leaving the couple to enjoy dinner.

Heartache is quick to consume Jungkook despite Jimin’s poor assurance of you and the captain’s night. He remembered how mesmerized Captain Kim had seemed when he offered his apologies before asking you to dinner right in front of Jungkook. As if he were invisible!

Okay, maybe Jungkook was jealous. He never wanted to end things, and he didn’t mean any of the things he said that awful night of your breakup. He had taken steps to fix himself, working less, going home more, and prioritizing himself and his family. He was a new man, even his mother had noticed the change. She was hopeful you and him would get back together.

Jungkook wallows in his sadness as he heads down one hallway and down another. He ignored the conversations around him and anyone who tried to strike up a conversation.

Before he knows it, he arrives at the kitchen with the swinging doors. He’s about to turn away when he gets grabbed by a man in a white hat with a stern look.

“Why are you just standing around?!” The man shouts as he hands Jungkook a silver tray with a thick lid that reflects his befuddled expression.

Jungkook looks at the name tag on the man’s white coat that reads, Soobin.

“Listen,” Jungkook tries to protest but he’s shoved in the direction of the other doors that lead who-knows-where. Jungkook stumbles before righting himself as the staff in the kitchen zoom back and forth adding garnish, stirring bubbling pots, and plating elaborate dishes in pristine white ceramic plates

“Hurry!” Soobin shouts from across the kitchen, his scowl sends a shiver of fear down Jungkook’s spine. He balances the tray in one hand as he pushes the black doors in front of him.

Jungkook’s not even sure where he’s going, or how he got into this situation from just losing himself in his thoughts but now he had to deliver whatever was under the tray and look for an exit.

Perhaps he could scale the side of the ship to get on another floor.

There was no way he’d be facing Chef Soobin’s wrath again. That much he was sure of.

“We’ve been waiting on you,” someone else hisses at him once he goes through the swinging door, biting his lip when one of the doors smacks his back and jolts him forward.

“I don’t-” Jungkook tries to explain but is interrupted as someone apologizes to a man clad in white.

Jungkook’s heart sinks as he recognizes you with every step he takes.

“Here is dessert,” the person grins as Jungkook sets the tray on the table.

Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him, confusion forming on your brow.

Jungkook looks to the side where the waiter is placing the remains of your dinner on a cart, and two black beady eyes seem to follow his movements as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Kookie?” You ask in surprise and his heart flips at the nickname he’d only allow you to use.

However, before he can bask in the sweetness of it, you clear your throat and correct yourself, using his full name instead.

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook bites his lip. This looks bad from all angles. The truth sounds like a fabricated lie and a lie would sound worse.

Namjoon raises a brow at the two of you, quickly putting the pieces together.

“Join us for dessert,” Namjoon smiles warmly as he waves over the waiter to ask for another chair but Jungkook shakes his head.

“No, that’s okay! I just got lost is all,” Jungkook blushes as he cards a hand through his hair nervously. You follow the action closely, studying Jungkook and the way his fingers twitch at his side. He avoids your gaze and Namjoon’s, apologizing as he takes a step back.

“I’ll go find my way back to Jimin and Yoongi. Please, don’t let me interrupt any further,” Jungkook can taste the vileness of his words but he’s at odds with his words and his thoughts.

“Why don’t I walk you back,” you offer, surprising him and Namjoon.

“Oh, no that’s not necessary,” Jungkook shakes his head but makes eye contact with the little beady eyes from before.

Had Namjoon tried to feed you that prawn? Did he not know food with eyes freaked you out? How long had you stared at those bead-like eyes before the plate had been removed from the table?

“Of course it is,” you say as you rise from your seat. Namjoon remains silent as you thank him for dinner.

“It was a pleasure,” Namjoon responds as he stands. He takes your hand in his and kisses it, making you smile bashfully.

“I’ll be going now!” Jungkook squeaks, his face red like the prawn still staring at him. Why hadn’t the waiter taken that abomination back to the kitchen yet?

Was he hiding out of Chef Soobin’s wrath too?

“Kook!” You huff, flustered as you take his arm to link with yours. Jungkook stays silent as you lead him out of the private dining quarters through a door he could have easily spotted if he hadn’t been so flustered by the events.

Weakly, Jungkook waves at Namjoon, who watches the two of you leave.

Jungkook gets a good look at the captain, admiring the long, thick hair that sits at his shoulders. He looks dapper in his uniform and hat, with thick arms and thighs to die for.

Jungkook was glad he had appeared just in time, or you’d be Captain Kim’s wife before the end of the cruise.

Hell, Jungkook would vie for Namjoon.

You remain silent as you drag Jungkook by the arm. He goes willingly as you lead him toward the giant dining room with the rest of the passengers.

You come to a halt before entering, ignoring the hunger pangs in your belly.

“What exactly is it that you are doing, Jungkook!” You ask as your anger bubbles over now that you’re alone with him.

Jungkook steeled himself, biting his lower lip in the way you love.

“I apologize,” Jungkook says sincerely, though the words taste like poison. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date.”

“It wasn’t a date,” you respond automatically, cringing at the speed of your words.

Jungkook visibly perks up.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” you mutter as you cross your arms over your chest, drawing Jungkook’s saddened gaze for a moment. “Though I did need some rescuing, so thank you.”

Jungkook perks up again, smiling cutely.

Before any more words are exchanged, your stomach rumbles loudly. Jungkook bites back his laughter as you cover your face.

“Oh my!” Jungkook giggles when your tummy rumbles again.

“Kook!” You whine, stomping your foot. “Stop laughing!”

Jungkook continues to laugh, broad shoulders shaking as he does so. You pout, flipping him off.

“Come on, let’s get you something to eat,” Jungkook smiles as he takes your hand to lead you to the buffet. You thank him sheepishly as he hands you a clean plate to fill with food.

You ignore the rumble of your stomach as you sit beside Jungkook in a booth. The dinner rush has come and gone, only you and a few stragglers are left behind as the servers clean tables and stack dirty dishes a few tables away.

“How long did you have a staring contest with that thing at the table?” Jungkook asks midway through dinner as he chews his food. For a moment he looks upset as he chews but you know it’s just him enjoying his meal.

“Hey! Namjoon is a nice guy!” You retort as you move your mashed potatoes around your plate.

Jungkook blinks owlishly, his cheeks stuffed with food. He resembles a cute little chipmunk.

He swallows, pounding his chest with his fist before he speaks. “I meant the prawn.”

“Oh!” you squeak as your body heats with embarrassment while Jungkook bursts into laughter.

His eyes crinkle at the corners, his pretty nose scrunches and his teeth make an appearance. Your heart flutters in your chest, his laughter healing the wounds he’d left behind.

No matter how much you tried to deny it, you were still hopelessly in love with him.

You’re up bright and early the next morning. Jungkook snores softly beside you, cuddled to the pillow between the two of you.

His hair is splayed on the pillow, one arm tucked under it to support his head.

His broad back is on display, the covers hanging on his hips as he rolls over an inch. You had spent several mornings waking up beside him, cuddled up, sharing kisses and each other's bodies. Mornings filled with happiness and love, memories you held onto, wishing to relive.

Instead, you get ready for the day. Jimin and Yoongi are excited to get to the port. There will be tons to do today before coming aboard for dinner and a show.

You put your swimsuit on under your sundress. You pack a change of clothes, sunblock, sunglasses, wallet, water bottle, mini first aid kit, and lip balm in your bag before heading out.

Jimin waits for you in the hallway, informing you that his other half has gone to secure a table in the dining room before the early risers can fill up the area.

“Soooo,” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows as the two of you sit down with Yoongi. Your plates are filled with eggs and sausage, fruits, and muffins.

“So what?” You ask as you eat a slice of an apple Jimin cut for you, the only way you could easily eat fruit.

Jimin is exasperated as he rolls his eyes at you.

“What happened on your date?” Jimin asks as he takes a sip of his iced coffee.

“It wasn’t a date,” you shake your head. “Just dinner.”

“Dinner with the cruise ship captain,” Yoongi cuts in. “That’s a big deal.”

“A private dinner with the cruise ship captain,” Jimin rephrased as he gave you his undivided attention.

A heavy sigh escapes your beeswax-sticky lips. Should lip balm tingle?

“He served prawns,” you whisper, looking around to make sure Namjoon and his staff are not around.

“Oooh,” Jimin smiles.

“No, they had beady little eyes like marbles. They stared into my soul,” you shiver at the memory.

“Yikes,” Yoongi shakes his head in disdain. He knew how much eyeballs freaked you out.

“I couldn’t eat it,” you continue as you munch on a grape. “Then Jungkook came in and I didn’t have to.”

Jimin and Yoongi exchange a bewildered look. “What do you mean Jungkook came in?”

“Yeah,” you nod as you stab a cube of watermelon with your fork. “He brought dessert? The whole thing was odd now that I think about it.”

“You didn’t ask him?” Yoongi questions but you shrug as you finish eating.

“We came to have dinner and it didn’t come up,” you explain with a second shrug.

Yoongi raises a brow at you. It wasn’t normal for you to be so nonchalant about this, especially with how you’d reacted to Jungkook interrupting your vacation so far. You always had a quip or snide attitude when it came to your ex, so interrupting your not date was major.

“Your ex-boyfriend interrupts your date and you don’t ask him why?” Yoongi is blunt with his question, seeking a direct answer. Jimin would have toed around it all day but Yoongi wanted to enjoy his cruise, plus he needed all drama set aside when he proposed soon.

“It wasn’t a date,” you remind him in a sing-song tone. “I didn’t want to eat the eyes, sue me if I was grateful he showed up.”

“Jungkook aside, how was dinner with Namjoon? Do you like him? Do you wanna go on a date date?” Jimin inquires, hopeful that his friend may move on from Jungkook at last. You seem to want to but he knows you still love the dark-haired, tattooed man.

“No,” you shake your head firmly. “He’d be away too much. That’s why Jungkook and I didn’t work out. Why go get involved in the same situation?”

“Fair,” Yoongi agrees as he clears his plate. “Come on then, we have a city to explore.”

“Yeah!” Jimin cheers as he takes your hand in his to lead you toward the exit with Yoongi in tow. You smiled brightly as you headed for the port, excited to spend the day with your two best friends.

No matter what life threw at you, they’d be by your side always.

Jimin was excited as he watched the waves crash against the boat.

You had stripped down to your bathing suit, and gotten lathered up in sunblock thanks to Jimin.

Your sun hat sat on your head and your sunglasses nearly covered half your face as you laid back enjoying the breeze.

You were doing your best to ignore Jungkook’s shirtless body. Jimin had rubbed his back with sunblock after he’d done you.

The three of you had been surprised to see Jungkook jogging toward you at the pier, making it just in time to join you for your scheduled scuba diving session.

Great.

Okay, so you were a little happy to see him. After all, you had planned this excursion with the four of you in mind.

Though after the breakup, you never imagined it would be the four of you here in the ocean breeze.

Music plays softly from Yoongi’s speaker. He’s got a thick book in his lap, as his sunglasses cover his shut eyes. He takes a cat nap, lulled by the sound of the waves crashing.

Beside you, Jungkook puts his life jacket on, tightening the straps to keep himself safe but all it does is draw attention to his tiny waist, a waist you used to trace with your tongue. You flush at the thought, memories of you on your knees licking him up and down, teasing him just to hear him whimper and cry out your name…

“Hmmm?” You look up when you realize someone is calling your name.

“I asked if you needed help with your life jacket?” Jungkook asks as he holds out the red monstrosity. You doubt it would look as good on you as it did him. You always felt like they were choking you.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” you say as you take the jacket from him. Cordial. You could do this. It was your vacation, you should enjoy it to the best of your abilities. You should be relaxing, and thankful to be away from the world of work.

The boat stops soon after and a tall, lean man comes to join you. Yoongi yawns as he awakens from his nap at Jimin’s prodding. He’d be damned if his boyfriend spent the entire vacation snoozing.

“My name is Taehyung or Tae. Whichever you prefer,” the man introduced himself with a boxy grin. His dark curly hair moved with the breeze and his sun-kissed skin seemed to glow beautifully under the early morning sun.

“Today we’ll be scuba diving in one of my favorite spots. We’ll be using the buddy system for this excursion, break for lunch, and then sail until four pm.”

You groan. The buddy system. You were shit out of luck as Jimin grabs Yoongi and leads him to the edge of the boat as Taehyung goes over a few more rules.

Your two best friends hold hands as they get into the water, laughing as they resurface.

Taehyung approaches you, smiling. “Let me know if you have any questions or if there’s anything specific you’d like to see today. The weather seems to be cooperating with us this morning.”

“Thank you,” you say graciously as you begin to snap the buckles of your life jacket. You cry out when your hair gets caught in one and Taehyung is quick to unsnap the buckle and release your hair.

“Here you go,” he coos gently as he pulls your hair upward to tie it in a loose bun. “Safety first.”

You lock your gaze on him as he easily ties your hair. He’s so close it makes your heart flip. His minty breath brushes your skin as he leans in closer to make sure he’s got all of your hair in one hand before tying a scrunchie around it.

“There we go,” he muses as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect.”

Jungkook glares at the back of Taehyung’s head, cursing him in his mind. Would pushing Taehyung off his boat be rude? Jungkook didn’t think so. However, he didn’t need to be charged and stranded overseas. So he’d play nice.

For now.

“Can we get in the water now?” Jungkook huffs as he puts his goggles on. “We came here to scuba dive.”

“Yeah,” you nod as you put your goggles on with Taehyung's help, much to Jungkook’s indignation.

“There we go, love. Don’t want you getting hurt,” Taehyung smiles warmly as he helps you into the water.

“It’s cold!” You exclaim, giggling as Taehyung dips into the water only to resurface moments later. He brushes his wet hair back, and you bite your bottom lip as he shakes the excess water off.

Jimin notices the interaction and swims toward you, easily escaping Yoongi’s attempts to stop him from playing Cupid in the middle of the ocean.

“Tae, can we go down now?” Jimin asks pleasantly, ignoring the death flares from

Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Sure,” Taehyung responds as he leads the group to an area a few feet away from the boat. He gives them some information about the sea creatures lurking about, warning them to be careful as all are not friendly.

Jungkook sticks close to you, grinning when you go underwater with him.

The two of you take photos with his camera, giggling at the bubbles that escape underwater before coming up for air.

“This is amazing!” You grin as you float on your back for a moment. Jungkook watches you, his heart fluttering giddily in his chest.

All he wanted was for you to be happy. How could he have allowed his work to consume him to the point of breaking up? He always swore to himself he’d be nothing like his workaholic father, and now here he was recreating his old man’s mistakes.

Never again, Jungkook swears to himself. He would not lose the love of his life over the company. You mattered more, you always would. He had lost sight of that but never again. Being without you these past six months had been torturous.

Somehow he had spent days in bed, wearing ramen-stained pajamas to go with his red-rimmed eyes. Jungkook didn’t know your eyes could hurt so much from crying, that the ache would almost rival that of his broken heart.

He didn’t want to imagine what you had gone through. The pain he had caused.

“Earth to Kook! Are you there?” Jungkook is startled out of his thoughts as you wave your hand in front of his face. “We’re going to the boat for lunch.”

Jungkook follows you as you swim back to the boat. Taehyung helps you out of the water, offering you a towel to dry off with before joining Jimin and Yoongi.

Taehyung gives the four of you space as the boat hits the waves once more.

“I’m so hungry,” Jimin hums as he takes a seat to look at the spread on the table.

“Ooh, guacamole, tacos, and burritos,” Jungkook nearly drools as you grab a plate for him and one for yourself.

The four of you enjoy lunch before Jimin falls asleep with Yoongi’s head on his lap. You dab some sunblock on their faces, and hope the sun doesn’t hit them.

“Today was fun,” Jungkook said as he sipped his beer. He sets it between you, and you reach for it to sip it. You weren’t a fan of beer but now and then you’d enjoy a sip of Jungkook’s. Old habits die hard apparently.

Jungkook remains silent at the indirect kiss. However, on the inside, he’s giggling to himself.

“It was,” you agree as you lie back, moaning as your muscles relax. You could easily fall asleep right there with the waves gently rocking the boat.

“I’m sorry for crashing your vacation,” Jungkook apologizes after a moment of silence. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew you’d be here.”

“Gee, thanks,” you huff, offended.

“No, no!” Jungkook shakes his head quickly. “I meant because I know you wouldn’t want to see me after…”

Your heart sinks in your chest as you toy with the edge of the towel to distract yourself. The wind ruffles your hair as you stare out into the ocean.

“Despite everything that’s happened, I’ve had fun on this cruise. We can be cordial, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, ignoring the crack in his heart. “Of course.”

You turn to face Jungkook, his dark brown eyes locked on yours. For a split second, you consider leaning in closer, kissing him for old-time’s sake but you don’t. No matter how many times you fantasized about being with him, he wasn’t yours. Not even the cute mole under his lip could tempt you enough to kiss him, and you loved that mole!

“I accept your apology,” you say, focusing your eyes on his instead of the mole beneath his lip or his tongue tracing his piercings like you used to.

Fuck, why were you denying him again?

“Friends?” Jungkook asks as he offers his tattooed hand for a handshake.

Your eyes flit from his to his hand and back before sighing. “Friends.”

Jungkook smiles brightly, fireworks going off in his chest.

“But try anything fishy, and you’re out of here!” You inform him.

Jungkook chuckles but agrees nonetheless. “I’m not planning on feeding you beady eyes or anything.”

“Good,” you stuck your tongue out at him and lay back on your towel. Jungkook lies beside you as you stare at the sky.

You’re dozing off, and you swear it’s just your imagination playing tricks on you when you hear a whisper, “I missed you. I still love you.”

“They’re adorable,” Jimin cooed quietly as he looked at you curled up with Jungkook.

“We should take a picture of them,” Yoongi agrees as he hands his phone to Jimin. Eagerly, Jimin takes a handful of pictures from different angles, all blackmail material for later.

Once the photos are taken, Yoongi kicks Jungkook’s butt. “Get up! We’re here!”

Groaning, Jungkook stirs before Yoongi kicks him again. This time harder.

“Hey!” Jungkook grunts as he swats Yoongi’s foot away. His shout wakes you, an annoyed frown on your face.

“What is it?” You ask as you rub your eyes. The life jacket is still tied to your chest as you sit up. You probably shouldn’t have slept in it.

“We gotta get back on the ship. We’re having dinner and a show, remember?” Jimin offers you his hand to help you up. You nod as you gather your belongings and Jimin helps Yoongi gather his.

“I hope you enjoyed your time,” Taehyung bows as Jimin and Yoongi climb off the boat and onto the dock.

“We did!” Jimin assured him as they waited for you.

“Oh, need some help?” Taehyung asks as you struggle to undo the buckles of the life jacket. They had gotten tangled while you slept.

“Please,” you pout as you try to untangle one strap only to tangle it more. Taehyung chuckles softly as his fingers make quick work of the buckles, setting you free in moments.

“There we go, love. All set,” Taehyung smiles warmly at you as he helps you out of the life jacket. You thank him sincerely as you put your sundress over your bathing suit.

“Thank you so much for today, Taehyung. I had a great time,” you say as you take his hand to get off his boat.

Taehyung kisses your hand gently. “I hope to see you again, love. Take care.”

You giggle as you wave goodbye to the curly-haired cutie.

Jungkook grunts as he gets off the boat last, rolling his eyes at Taehyung.

He knew he had no right to be jealous but that was easier said than done.

When you got back on the cruise ship, you were still smiling whilst looking at your hand.

Jungkook was beyond jealous.

“What was that between you and Taehyung?” Jimin clasps his hands at dinner.

You giggle at his excitement, knowing you’re gonna nip any hope of finding a man at sea in the bud.

“It was nothing,” you assure him. “He’s just friendly.”

Jungkook scoffs from his seat, his eyes glued to his menu.

Yoongi kicks him under the table.

The three men are dressed to the nines. Jimin wears a black tuxedo with a white button-down shirt and skinny black tie. Beside him, Yoongi looks just as hot in a matching tuxedo with a black bow tie.

Next to you, Jungkook is in all black. He looks delectable, and it takes all your willpower to keep your eyes off him. He had the same problem earlier when you stepped out of the bathroom in your maroon A-line dress with the deep v-cut that made your breasts look fabulous. He nearly proposed to you then and there.

“Looked like something was blooming,” Jimin insists as a server brings a basket full of fresh rolls and butter.

“We had a few conversations while I booked the excursion,” you shrug, nonchalantly. “Nothing came of it.”

“Until he kissed your hand,” Jungkook grumbles into his menu.

“Ow!” He yelps when Yoongi’s foot kicks him again.

“Anyway, he kissed your hand,” Yoongi grinned devilishly. “Could mean something.”

You wave him off. “He’s just being friendly.”

“He wasn’t that friendly with me,” Jungkook muttered.

You ignore him.

You take a roll from the basket, cut it in half, and share it with Jungkook out of habit. You don’t notice the surprised look on your friends’ faces.

“Who’s headlining anyway?” You ask as you spread butter on your roll. “I heard the act had backed out and someone else took their place.”

“Kim Seokjin,” Yoongi responds as he sips his whiskey. “I looked him up before dinner. He’s got an amazing voice. You’ll like him.”

You nod, eager to get to the show after dinner.

Jungkook looks up Seokjin on his phone, pouting when he sees an image of him on the screen.

Did everyone you came in contact with on this cruise have to be so fucking attractive?

The lights dim as the last member of the audience takes their seat. Jungkook pouts beside you, not the least bit enthused about the handsome man who will be serenading the crowd in a few moments.

Jimin is excited, chatting your ear off as he looks through the set list on the table. A few waiters come and go with trays filled with drinks and tiny napkins.

The candlelit tables are the only form of light until the spotlight comes on and the first few notes of a song fill the air.

“Welcome everyone,” a sultry voice greets the crowd from his spot at a piano. His hair is long and curly, it reaches his shoulders. He wears an all-white suit with a pink shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone to show a bit of his chest.

His lips are plush and look oh-so kissable. He’s gorgeous, more so than his pictures. He is truly a vision that your eyes are blessed to behold.

“Wow!” You breathe in awe as he sings a beautiful song about loving oneself. Jungkook frowns, what are the chances of him being able to steal the microphone and serenade you instead?

Nobody pays him attention as he watches Seokjin both in awe and jealousy. You seem enamored with the man as he dances with a group, never missing a note, and never sounding out of breath.

On top of it all, he’s funny too. After the first three songs, he takes a seat on a stool set out for him. He has a guitar beside him, and Jungkook wonders if there’s anything Seokjin can’t do.

“This one goes out to all the loves that could have been, the broken hearts, and the ones hoping for a second chance,” Seokjin introduces the next song as the lights dim and he strums his guitar.

“And it feels like you’re getting further away,” Seokjin croons as his eyes mist with tears but he continues to sing.

Jungkook sits up in his chair, turning to look at you. You’re focused on Seokjin but tears are rolling down your cheeks as you take in every lyric, feeling as if it’s being engrained into your heart.

Gently, Jungkook wipes your tears with his monogrammed silk handkerchief. You gasp in surprise but soon smile through your tears, thanking him. Jungkook nods, remaining silent as the song comes to an end, and you take a shaky breath.

The show goes on, and after a few more songs, Seokjin rises from his seat. He does a few upbeat songs, getting the crowd clapping and singing along with him.

Seokjin pulls members from the audience to join him, teaching them simple choreography before he has them perform alongside him.

Yoongi and Jimin get pulled on stage, and they do amazing beside Seokjin. You cheer the loudest for them as they do body rolls all while sending flirty gazes to the audience. They both enjoy the attention, smiling as they thank Seokjin once the song ends.

Jimin blushes once he’s back in his seat. You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek. “You’re wonderful!”

“That?” Jimin giggles. “That was nothing.”

“Please,” Jungkook adds. “You were made for the stage. The both of you!”

You nod in agreement, smiling when people stop by your table to compliment the couple. Seokjin takes the stage once more, sitting on the stool for a moment while he introduces the last song.

“I’d like to end this night on a higher note,” Seokjin states as he looks out into the crowd. “Feel free to grab a partner and dance.”

Seokjin heads to the crowd while singing. A few couples head to the dancefloor, swaying slowly to his beautiful voice.

Jimin and Yoongi join the other couples shortly after, whispering sweet-nothings to each other as they go.

Awkwardness bubbles inside you, as you look down at the tablecloth. Would it be possible to leave the show unnoticed? Seokjin was nearby, surely nobody would notice if you made a hasty exit.

You rise from your seat sharply, surprising Jungkook. He stares at you with wide eyes, wondering where you’re going.

However, before Jungkook can ask, Seokjin chooses that moment to take your hand, dancing with you at your table for a moment.

“When I’m with you, there is no one else,” he sings beautifully. Your heart skips a beat as you place your hand on his shoulder, smiling bashfully as he spins you once.

Jungkook is ready to head back to the cabin, not wanting to see another man fall for you just as he had. He knew when it was time to throw in the towel, and you may have accepted his apology and agreed to be friends, but how often did that actually pan out? Would you still talk to him once you weren’t stuck on a cruise ship? Jungkook wasn’t sure.

He wasn’t going to stand around and watch you fall for someone else. That much he was sure of.

Seokjin stills you once he finishes spinning you. He then places your hand in Jungkook’s before leaving to another table.

Jungkook’s doe eyes are wide with surprise. You look shocked, but lead him to the dancefloor beside Jimin and Yoongi.

“You were shining towards me, the only light found in the darkness,” Seokjin sings wholeheartedly as Jungkook holds you close. It’s been so long since the last time he held you like this; since he realized how perfect you fit in your arms. He promised if you gave him one more chance, he would make sure to never ruin it. He’d never hurt you again. He’d be more mindful of his words, he’d prioritize you over his company. Jungkook would make sure you never felt like you were an afterthought. It saddens him to think he had made you feel like that, and that it took losing you for it to snap him into reality.

How long had you been unhappy at his side? Was he selfish in wanting you back? In pursuing you still? Had his appearance on this cruise been a divine intervention or a simple coincidence?

Jungkook forces himself to focus on you and not the downward spiral of despair brewing in his mind. You rest your head on his shoulder, swaying with him as he holds you closer.

Perhaps tonight the two of you could have a private moment to talk things out. Or maybe he’d be asking for too much?

Too soon for Jungkook’s liking, the song ends. He blinks his unshed tears away as you take a step back, clapping with everyone else.

“I’m going to head to the bar,” you inform him as you leave as quickly as possible. Jimin and Yoongi watch you go, and Yoongi places his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Tough break, man.”

Jungkook nods as he watches you squeeze through the crowd, disappearing soon after.

Jimin and Yoongi leave him by himself, the two enamored with each other after a romantic evening, both eager to get to their room for some privacy.

Jungkook is a little envious.

“Screwdriver, please,” you tell the bartender once you reach the bar. You need something to take the edge off, just a few minutes away from Jungkook and your array of emotions.

“I’ll have the same,” the voice beside you says. The bartender nods as he goes to make the drinks. You turn to your left to see Seokjin.

“You were wonderful,” you compliment, smiling genuinely. You hope you’re not bothering him. Surely he has people circling him at all times, especially after his shows.

“Thank you,” Seokjin bows his head, his ears turning red.

The bartender places the drinks in front of you on black napkins with a gold border. You thank him before sipping your drink.

“Fuck, I needed that,” you muttter as you take a second sip.

“Trouble in paradise?” Seokjin asks as he sips from his glass.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you respond sadly stirring your drink with your paper straw.

“I’m all ears,” Seokjin smiles, disarming any protests you might have had.

“Don’t you have another show?” You ask with wide eyes, surprised this stranger would want to hear about your woes.

“Nope, that was the last one for the night,” Seokjin informs you. He holds out his hand for you to shake as he introduces himself. You shake his hand after giving him your name.

The two of you scoot to the end of the bar with your drinks. It takes you a few more sips of your screwdriver before you fill in Seokjin about your trip thus far and how you were stuck sharing your cabin with your ex.

“Sounds to me like there’s a lot of love there,” Seokjin responds after you’re done telling your tale. He waves down the bartender, asking for two glasses of water before he continues. “If you’ve forgiven him, what’s holding you back?”

You bite your bottom lip as you try to make a list of your doubts.

“What if he hasn’t changed? What if we get back together and I’m brushed aside again?”

Seokjin thanks the bartender as he pushes a glass of water toward you. He clicks his tongue before shrugging.

“There’s no way to find out unless you try. Second chances are few and far between. Some people don’t get second chances, most try to make it work the second time. If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again,” Seokjin grins as he chugs his water.

“So you do greeting cards on the side, huh?” You tease, playfully bumping into Seokjin. He laughs wholeheartedly, his eyes turning into half-moons.

“I could, couldn’t I,” he says after his laughter has subsided. “But on a serious note, the two of you looked great on the dance floor. I didn’t know you were broken up when I danced with you.”

“Why do things have to be so complicated?” You huff as you finish your water.

“They don’t have to be,” Seokjin assures you. “They’re only complicated if you make it so. You love him, he loves you, what more is there to it?”

You sigh heavily, you know Seokjin’s reasoning is a little half-baked but it makes sense. What’s keeping you from giving it a second shot? You love Jungkook so much, and despite Jimin’s attempts at fixing you up with someone, you always compare them to Jungkook. He was the love of your life, knew it from the moment you laid eyes on him in your flower shop. He had walked in looking frazzled. His black suit was well fitted and his broad chest showed from the few buttons left undone at the top. His hair had been brushed back, his undercut on display.

Frazzled, he’d asked you for a custom bouquet. His mother’s birthday dinner was that evening and though he had a birthday present for her, he didn’t want to show up without flowers. She adored flowers, he’d informed you. All kinds, any color, any array. He never went empty-handed but the last floralist he’d ordered from had sent him nothing but stems and wilted roses.

After that day, he made daily appearances, until eventually he asked you out.

On your third month of dating, he had you meet his mother, her house filled with flowers from your shop.

“It’s so nice to meet the woman responsible for my new garden,” she joked as she welcomed you into her home with a tight hug.

Jungkook had blushed, hiding his face in his hands.

His mother adored you right off the bat, and that’s when Jungkook knew he couldn’t live without you, didn’t want to.

Your relationship had been perfect at first, something out of a fairytale. You spent a lot of time together, went on dates, spent the night, and tried his hobbies which involved rock climbing, kayaking, and bungee jumping. He tried yours, cooking, baking, painting, candle making. However, as your relationship wore on, Jungkook spent more and more time at work at his company. Business trips overseas, meetings late into the night, days off spent sleeping or moody.

You understood at first. You were supportive and gave him space when he needed it but soon came the canceled dates, the forgotten anniversaries, and the forgotten birthdays.

“I’m tired of coming second all the time, Jungkook,” you told him one day in his office after another canceled dinner.

“I have to work, babe. I can’t put it off for dinner,” he said as he sat at his desk, barely looking up from his laptop.

“It wasn’t always like this, Kook. You used to make an effort to come home,” you frowned as you placed your hands on your hips.

“You know I would of I could,” Jungkook huffs as he rubs his face with his hands. He had a knot in his shoulders from the stress and a headache was building rapidly. He didn’t have time for this argument. The longer you interrupted him the longer it would take for him to finish and go home to your shared apartment.

“Kookie,” you sigh, defeated. “I’m tired of waiting for you.”

“Nobody asked you to!” He exclaims as he shuts his laptop.

His words shattered your heart and a knot formed in your throat. You held back tears, simply nodding.

“Don’t worry, I’m done waiting on you.”

You had walked out of his office without another word. You headed straight to your shared apartment to pack up your belongings and crash on Jimin’s couch.

Jungkook had gone home late that night exhausted from his day at work. He had been put off by the complete silence. The lights were all off which was unusual since you were scared of the dark. You always had one light on, whether it was the living room lamp or the light over the stove.

Jungkook called out for you but got no response as he made his way to the bedroom.

The silence was eerie, just like the darkness. When he flicked the light switch, his eyes widened and his heart sank in his chest.

Drawers were open and emptied. Your half of the closet had nothing but empty clothes hangers.

Jungkook shook his head, this couldn’t be happening.

He rushed to the bathroom to see your makeup, face products, and toiletries were gone. He heaved, resisting the urge to puke as cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Jungkook went to the kitchen, opening cabinets to see if your favorite mug was gone. There wasn’t an item left that belonged to you in the apartment.

You truly had grown tired of waiting for him.

Jungkook fell to his knees on the cold kitchen floor. His heart felt like it was cracking into tiny pieces. He had lost you. He was sure of it.

You were gone.

“Hello?” Seokjin waves his hand in front of your face when his question goes unanswered.

You apologize before he repeats his question. “What more is there to it?”

Seokjin had a point. What was keeping you from making amends? Jungkook was here, you’d forgiven him, and secretly his mother had called you throughout the six months to check on you but also fill you in on Jungkook’s change. No longer was he missing dinner, he was at her home promptly at six every evening. He had his days off, and spent more time with her, which she loved but she missed the shine in her son’s eyes, the little sparkle he got when he was with you.

Fear wasn’t a good enough reason to stay away, not anymore.

“You’re right,” you give in with a small smile.

“I always am,” Seokjin chuckles as he reaches into his suit pocket and hands you a card. “Here, call me when you need a singer for your wedding. I’ll give you ten percent off.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thanks, Seokjin.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Think nothing of it. Now go, get your man back.”

“You only want us together so we’ll book you,” you laugh as his cheeks turn pink.

“Hey, I gotta make a living somehow,” he winks at you to make you laugh. “Now quit stalling and go!”

“All right! All right! I’m going!” You laugh as you hug him goodbye, promising to update him before the cruise is over. Seokjin waves as you go, hopeful that you and Jungkook will make amends.

Seokjin orders a shot, raising it in your honor before downing it.

Perhaps his next endeavor would lead him to matchmaking.

You’re filled with nerves by the time you reach your cabin. You use your bracelet to let yourself into the room, hoping the butterflies in your stomach will settle.

However, your nerves are for naught as you spot Jungkook asleep in your bed.

Disappointed, you head to the bathroom to change and wash your face.

Jungkook opens his eyes once he hears the bathroom door shut. He looks at the time and notes you’ve been gone a little over an hour.

He hopes you and Seokjin will be happy together.

The next morning you’re up bright and early. You roll over expecting to see Jungkook, but instead, you find his spot empty and the sheets cold.

Frowning, you get out of bed to get ready for the day.

You were hoping to talk to him before reaching the next port.

“Good morning!” Jimin sings as he enters your bedroom after knocking incessantly while you get dressed.

“Morning,” you mumble as you grab your purse and sunglasses. Another sundress covers your body, this one purple with white flowers. Your bathing suit hides beneath the cool fabric, riding up a bit as you bend down to fix the strap on your sandal.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Jimin raised a brow at your response. “I thought you and Seokjin hit it off last night. At least it looked that way when we were heading to bed.”

“Nothing happened,” you roll your eyes at Jimin’s nosiness. “We talked about Jungkook.”

“Ew, talking about an ex on the first date is such a downer,” Jimin comments as he follows you out of the cabin and into the hallway.

“It wasn’t a date,” you insist as you face forward. “Have you seen Jungkook? He wasn’t in bed this morning.”

“He’s probably at breakfast with Yoongi. I sent him ahead to get us a table,” Jimin explains.

“Oh,” you say dejected. “So you haven’t seen Kookie?”

“Kookie?” Jimin’s eyes widen in surprise. “You’re calling him Kookie again? He’s not a dick anymore?”

“Jimin,” you huff. “Have you seen Jungkook or not?”

Jimin shakes his head. “Not since last night.”

You frown. You wanted to speak with him sooner rather than later. Tonight was one of the last nights on board, and if he was nowhere to be found you’re not sure if you’d have the courage to reach out to him once you went back home.

“Let’s have breakfast and go about our day. I’m sure he’ll show up at some point.”

“What if he doesn’t?” You bite your lip nervously.

Jimin scoffs. “Please, this is the man who somehow found you in the captain’s private dining room. He’ll find you.”

You giggle as you take Jimin’s arm in yours, feeling much lighter as you head to the dining area.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” Jimin states cheekily.

However, Jungkook isn’t at breakfast and he’s nowhere to be seen when you get off the ship at the next port.

“Don’t worry about him, babe,” Jimin links his left arm with your right. “He’ll show up.”

“I hope you’re right,” you sigh. “I need to talk to him.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Don’t let him ruin your day. We’ve got a whole day at the beach.”

You smile as you go with the couple to check out the market on the way to the beach. You fill your bag with souvenirs for your family and friends. Jimin buys you snacks, trying them all on the way to the beach.

“This weather is so nice,” you sigh happily as you rest on your lounger under a large blue umbrella Yoongi had set up for the four of you, despite Jungkook being nowhere to be found.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” Yoongi volunteers as Jimin mentions wanting a blue drink with an umbrella that the person a few feet away from you was sipping on.

“Get me one too!” you call after him as he raises his hand over his shoulder to assure you he heard your request.

The sand is hot on Yoongi’s feet as he reaches the bar. There’s a crowd at one end of the bar, cheering as some shirtless dude rips open a watermelon with his bare hands. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he orders your drinks and a bottle of water for himself.

“JK! JK! JK!” The crowd cheers. Yoongi whips his head to the crowd, spotting Jungkook’s tattooed arm dripping with watermelon juice. He pours the juice into a few shot glasses, while the bartender adds vodka.

“Cheers!” Jungkook grabs a shot as do a few of his fans.

“Thanks!” Yoongi pays for the drinks, sliding the cold water bottle into the pocket of his swim trunks. He barrels through Jungkook’s onlookers, earning a few angry looks as he grabs Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Hey! No touchy!” Jungkook exclaims before he realizes it’s Yoongi grabbing his shoulder.

“Oh! Yoongi! What’s up?”

“You know your girl’s been looking for you all morning?” Yoongi raises a brow as he tugs Jungkook away from the bar, ignoring the onlookers’ protests.

“She’s Seokjin’s girl now,” Jungkook shrugs.

“You’re an idiot! You know that?”

“I do,” Jungkook agrees easily and Yoongi hands him his water.

“Drink this and come join us. I’m proposing to Jimin tonight and I don’t need you ruining this for us.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Oh shit! You’re proposing! Congrats! Does he know?!”

Yoongi’s forehead vein twitches. “I haven’t done it yet.”

Jungkook nods, smiling. “You should.”

“I’m gonna.”

“Good,” Jungkook grins. “You should.”

“I’m gonna,” Yoongi rolls his eyes at the younger man.

“You should.” Jungkook bobs his head.

“I’m gonna,” Yoongi insists before carding a hand through his long black hair. “Will you shut up?! Let’s go!”

Jungkook chugs the bottle of water before following Yoongi to where you and Jimin chat under the large umbrella.

“Hey stranger,” Jimin greets Jungkook as Yoongi hands you and Jimin your drinks.

“Hey,” Jungkook waves weakly as he takes a seat on the end of Jimin’s chair. Jimin eyes Yoongi, silently asking him what gives. Yoongi answers with a shrug.

“Okay…” Jimin grins. “Glad we’re all here.”

You nod as you sip your blue drink, not knowing what to say or do. Yoongi sits on your chair, stretching out. You poke his chest, and he pouts.

“Be good,” he swats at your hand, making you laugh as you and Jimin talk about the drink. Jungkook remains silent as he watches the ocean, wondering what he can do to make things between you less awkward.

Hours pass, and soon it’s almost sunset.

“It’s right over here,” Yoongi says as he leads Jimin by the hand to a place further down the beach.

“Hello!” A bright voice greets the four of you along with three giant horses.

“Horseback riding?” Jimin squeals in delight. He kisses Yoongi on the cheek.

“I’m Hoseok,” the man introduces himself. “I’ll be giving you a tour.”

You all introduce yourselves.

Hoseok has Jimin and Yoongi meet their horse, becoming familiar with the steed before helping them onto Pepper, a beautiful black stallion.

“All right you two, you’re on Sugar,” Hoseok states as he hands you and Jungkook sugar cubes for the horse. “She’s the sweetest I own. Be good to her and she’ll be good to you.”

Hoseok helps you onto the horse, his hands gently guiding you forward so he can get Jungkook on behind you.

“Place your hands around her waist and place them here,” Hoseok instructs before telling you where to place yours.

“Aren’t you a good girl?” Hoseok coos, and you giggle.

Hoseok pets Sugar, but winks at you before he gets on his horse, a beautiful sandy brown mare named Cinnamon.

Unknowingly, Hoseok is leading you to the spot Yoongi will propose. However, he takes the long way around, showing you as much of his beautiful city as possible.

Hoseok hangs beside you and Jungkook. He’s very outgoing, filling any awkward pauses with jokes, and information you’re eager to hear.

“Why don’t you two hang back a bit?” Hoseok raises a brow, winking at you once more before he goes to Yoongi and Jimin. Sugar comes to a stop, and Jungkook jolts forward, his chest hitting your back.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he grips your waist tighter to keep himself on the horse.

“What’s going on?” you ask as you watch Hoseok lead Yoongi and Jimin further up before he hands Jimin a blindfold. Hoseok calls for Sugar, and she goes willingly.

“Whoa!” you hold tight to the horse and Jungkook, scared you’ll fall off and get a mouthful of sand in the process.

Soon, lights appear in the sand in the shape of a heart. Rose petals are spread perfectly throughout, spelling out the words, Will you marry me?

“Oh my god,” you whisper, tears immediately filling your eyes.

“What’s going on?” Jimin asks as Hoseok helps him off the horse once Yoongi gets into position. A photographer and videographer stand nearby, waiting as Hoseok leads Jimin to Yoongi. Hoseok then comes for you and Jungkook, helping you off the horse before leading you to the side.

“You may remove your blindfold,” Hoseok instructs as he grabs the three horses' reins to get them out of the photos.

Jimin is confused but does as he’s told. His heart is racing in his chest, his hands have grown sweaty from nerves, and butterflies swirl in his tummy.

A gasp escapes him as the silk blindfold flutters to the sand. His hands cover his mouth as he looks at Yoongi kneeling in front of him with a black velvet box containing a perfect amethyst ring.

“Will you marry me?” Yoongi asks with hope in his eyes.

Jimin nods, “Yes. Yes!”

You grab Jungkook, shaking him in your excitement as your two best friends kiss. Yoongi places the ring on Jimin’s finger, and you allow them to have their moment, waiting for the happy couple to turn to you and wave you over.

You wrap your arms around them both, squeezing them until they tell you they can’t breathe. You release them, admiring Jimin’s ring, giggling in your excitement as you begin talking about wedding plans.

“Congratulations,” Jungkook tells Yoongi as he watches you and Jimin bounce ideas off each other as Hoseok approaches with the horses.

“Thanks,” Yoongi smiles brightly, love in his eyes when he looks at Jimin.

“We should get going before the ship leaves without us,” Jimin turns to face the two, urging them onto the horses. Hoseok helps you back onto Sugar, his hand lingering on your waist as you settle. You laugh at something he says, gently swatting him as he laughs before he goes to help Jimin and Yoongi.

Jungkook gets on Sugar without any help, his hands gripping your waist as Hoseok gets on Cinnamon and leads the four of you back to his office.

Jimin and Yoongi are all smiles at dinner. Champagne glasses in your hands as you toast their engagement before they go off on their own.

“I’m so happy for them,” you grin as you watch your best friends leave.

Jungkook nods in agreement.

“What should we do now?”

“Want to check out the party on deck?” You ask as you see fireworks going off in the distance. Jungkook nods as he follows you out onto the deck.

The two of you haven’t had a chance to have a serious conversation due to all the excitement but now with Jimin and Yoongi gone, you were unsure how to approach the subject.

More fireworks go off as you find a spot for the two of you to watch the rest of the show, amazed by the beautiful colors and patterns of the fireworks.

Jungkook smiles as the last few go off before the passengers clap and disperse.

“Should we head back to the room?” you ask Jungkook as a chill runs down your spine, your hands rubbing your arms.

Jungkook nods. He takes his jacket off to drape over your shoulders as he follows you back into the ship, going down the halls until you reach your cabin.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you inform him as you set his jacket on the bed before going to the bathroom with your pajamas in tow. Jungkook nods, as he hangs his jacket in the small closet.

He cards a hand through his hair before he heads out to the balcony to watch the waves. Something about the endless ocean at night made him uneasy but he couldn’t stand the tightness he felt in his chest being in such a small room feeling somewhat awkward.

“Bathroom’s free!” You call twenty minutes later as you climb into bed before Jungkook can see you wearing one of his old t-shirts to bed. You had packed it with the thought that he wouldn’t be joining you on this cruise and now you were stuck hiding under the sheets.

“Thanks!” He responds before he heads into the shower. You scroll on your phone absentmindedly, humming until he comes out. He’s shirtless as he does his nighttime skincare routine, singing a song softly to himself.

You stare at his perfect abdomen, wishing you could run your hands over his broad shoulders and tapered waist. Your lips ache to kiss every mole and scar on his body, to taste him once more.

“Jungkook, can we talk?” You ask as you muster all the courage you can.

Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise, his toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

He nods as he rushes to the bathroom sink to spit out the toothpaste.

You wait patiently for him to finish before he sits on the edge of the bed.

Jungkook waits apprehensively for you to speak as you play with the sheets.

“I’ve been talking to your mom these past few months,” you say, avoiding his gaze.

“My mom?” Jungkook is surprised at the revelation. “Why?”

You shrug. “I didn’t break up with her.”

You’ve got him there.

“She says you’ve changed a lot these past six months,” you continue as you finally meet his gaze. “That you’re different now.”

“I am,” Jungkook nods eagerly. “I swear.”

“I want to believe you,” you respond honestly as you focus on the sheets, tugging them to peaks. “I’m just scared of getting hurt again.”

“I know,” Jungkook sighs heavily. “I’ve been kicking myself for how I treated you back then. I was an idiot. I said things I didn’t mean. I missed so many events and dinners. I’m truly sorry.”

“I still love you, Jungkook. I never stopped,” you admit sheepishly as you feel heat rush to your cheeks.

Jungkook moves closer, his hand gently cupping your face. He waits patiently until you meet his gaze.

“I never stopped loving you, baby. I want to be the man you deserve. I want to be everything I wasn’t. You are my priority. I’m sorry it took me losing you to figure it out,” Jungkook gently caresses your cheek. Tears well in your eyes as you try to blink them away.

When one rolls down your cheek, Jungkook tenderly wipes it away with his thumb.

“I never meant to hurt you, love. And I swear that I never will,” Jungkook promises as he hooks his pinkie with yours. You smile through your tears, wrapping your arms around him to hold him close.

Jungkook rubs your back softly, holding you tight, afraid to let you go. He can feel your tears land on his shoulder as he holds you, whispering assurances and sweet nothings until you’re sniffling instead of crying.

When you let go, you wipe your eyes and smile at him sheepishly.

Jungkook holds your hands in his, kissing each of them before pressing his lips to yours. His forehead rests on yours, and your gaze meets his hopeful one.

“You are my everything,” Jungkook whispers. “Today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life. I love you.”

“One last kiss before we head out,” Jungkook pouts as he stands in front of the door to your cabin, his back pressed to it.

You roll your eyes playfully, but lean in close to kiss him. Jungkook’s large hands grip your waist, tugging you closer as he deepens the kiss, making you moan when he sucks on your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” you curse when you take a breath. Jungkook smirks, his hand moving higher on your back.

“We could say we’re sick,” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you.

“Please,” you scoff. “You know Jimin would break the door down if he thought I was sick.”

Jungkook pouts, “But we just got together. I want to make up for lost time.”

You run your hands over the smooth planes of his chest. You have lunch plans with Jimin and Yoongi, some wedding planning, and more celebrating you’re sure. It’s why you’ve decided not to announce your relationship to the happy couple just yet.

Your plans for the day are very relaxed for your last night on board, until the farewell party this evening. Seokjin will be performing at dinner once again, and then the passengers will get to have one last big hurrah before going home in the morning. You were apprehensive about going home, would Jungkook keep his promise? Could you put yourself through a second breakup if things didn’t work out?*

Should you just come clean to your two best friends and ask for their advice?

“We can do all that tonight,” You assure Jungkook as you kiss the corner of his mouth and reach for the doorknob behind him.

Jungkook smiles, nodding as he steps aside to let you by.

“I was about to go banging on your door!” Jimin huffs as you and Jungkook sit at the table with Jimin and Yoongi.

“So dramatic,” you mutter as you stab a cube of watermelon from Jimin’s plate.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook with a frown. “I see you’re still here.”

“Where else am I supposed to go?” Jungkook asks with a raised brow as he reaches for a roll.

“Kinda hoped our girl here would have pushed you over the balcony by now,” Yoongi huffs, a disappointed look on his face as he turns to you. “I guess there’s always tonight.”

“Yoongi,” you roll your eyes. “Be nice. This is a happy time for the two of you. We should celebrate!”

“We have been,” Jimin giggles, ignoring Yoongi’s rosy cheeks.

“Did you bring your wedding binder?” You ask Jimin as you sip your mimosa. Jimin shakes his head but hands you his phone where he keeps a digital copy just in case.

“Of course, you’ll have to be my maid of honor!” Jimin exclaims as he shows you his ideas for themes and colors.

“Duh,” you grin as you scroll onto the next page on his phone. The two of you are lost in wedding planning mode but Yoongi is watching you.

Something about you seemed different and he can’t quite put his finger on it.

Jungkook eats his lunch quietly listening to you and Jimin chatter about the wedding. He keeps one hand in his lap as he tries not to look over at you too much. It’s harder than he thought pretending you weren’t back together. He wanted to hold your hand, to lean his head on your shoulder, or to even hold a conversation with you but he knew it would be too risky.

If it were up to him, he’d announce it to the whole ship, so that they knew you were his once again.

However, instead, he eats his lunch and keeps to himself.

Yoongi can’t shake the feeling. As lunch ends and the four of you head to the pool, Yoongi keeps his watchful eye on you.

He notes the way you laugh at Jungkook’s jokes, how you seem to lean into him more as the day goes by, sharing snacks and drinks when you would have poured them on Jungkook at the start of the cruise.

Jungkook’s longing stares are almost nonexistent. He seems to have regained the sparkle in his eye as he laughs with you and Jimin. His nose is scrunched, and his eyes are closed into pretty little half-moons.

“Something’s off,” Yoongi whispers to himself before the four of you split to get ready for the last evening on board.

Music played softly in the background as dinner was served to the passengers. Everyone wore their best gowns and suits. Diamonds, pearls, rubies, and all other colorful gems were in abundance on passenger’s necks and ears.

The candlelit room gave a softer, more romantic feel to the evening as you awaited your waiter to get to your table.

“I’m so sad it’s our last night,” Jimin pouts as he places his hand over his fiancé’s.

“I know,” you frown. “I wish we had more time on board.”

“You can always honeymoon on a cruise,” Jungkook suggests as he reaches for his glass of water, trying to ignore Yoongi’s intense gaze.

“Ooh, what a marvelous idea!” Jimin chirps as he claps. He turns to Yoongi with a smile, “What do you think, babe?”

Yoongi blinks once. “You’re fucking him.”

Jimin’s eyes widen as Jungkook chokes on his water.

“What?!” Jimin is scandalized, protests sitting heavy on his tongue. He was most definitely not fucking Jungkook or anyone else for that matter.

Yoongi looks pointedly at you, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Of course not!” You hiss, shaking your head as Jungkook coughs repeatedly. You pat his back gently, asking if he needs anything as his face turns red.

“There’s something up with you two,” Yoongi states as he stares into your soul. He quirks his head to the side as he notes the way you gently rub Jungkook’s back, offering him your glass of water and checking on him again.

“You’re back together!” Jimin exclaims as he looks at Yoongi, who is frowning now.

“Ew, I wish you two were just fucking again,” he spits.

“Oh, you love me,” Jungkook laughs but doesn’t deny Jimin’s allegation.

“Can we not do this right now?” You ask as you smile at the waiter approaching the table.

Surprisingly, Yoongi and Jimin remain quiet as your dinner is set on the table.

Jungkook stuffs his mouth with food, nearly choking so he can avoid speaking.

Once the waiter leaves, Jimin smirks. “So, are you two back together?”

Jungkook chews noisily beside you, looking at nearby tables instead of Jimin.

“Technically,” you answer, giggling when Jungkook pokes your side.

“Kookie!”

“Oh, no! They’re going to be insufferable again!” Yoongi whines as he pouts.

“I know,” Jungkook chirps. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Yoongi groans, but despite his outward displeasure of your revelation, inside he’s delighted to have you happy once again.

Though he will tear Jungkook a new one if he breaks your heart again. Jimin and you won’t be able to hold him back again…

“I’m so exhausted,” you groan as you kick your heels off in your cabin.

Jungkook is fresh out of the shower, drying his hair with a towel on his way to the bed as you unzip your dress before scurrying into the steamy bathroom with Jimin’s gift tucked behind your back.

Jimin had insisted you walk him to his cabin despite his confused fiancé being at his side.

“Go away, Jungkook! I’ll walk her back,” Jimin had pushed Jungkook towards your shared room, insisting he needed to talk to you.

“What is it, Jimin?” You ask as you follow him into his room. Jimin waves you off as he lugs his suitcase in front of you.

He searches through his clothing and some of yours that he’s packed for you. He pushed everything out of the way until he finally came out with a pretty bubblegum pink gift bag.

“What is it?” You ask with wide eyes as he hands it to you.

“You’re welcome!” Jimin grins as he stuffs everything back into his suitcase.

“Jimin!” You're scandalized as you see the tiny pieces of black fabric he expects you to wear for Jungkook tonight.

Jimin shrugs. “I had hoped you’d meet some hottie on the ship and bang his brains out. The fact that it’s Jungkook works for me.”

You turn to Yoongi who shakes his head, chuckling. “Leave me out of this.”

“Go,” Jimin pushes you gently towards the door. “Fuck his brains out. Get an orgasm or six, was that the record?”

Jimin looks over at Yoongi who holds up seven fingers.

“Ooh, seven like that song we like. Fuck him to that,” Jimin snickers as he leads you out of his cabin and walks you to yours.

“What if it’s too soon?” You whisper as you reach your door.

“Only do what feels right. Whether it’s on the cruise or later on,” Jimin says. “The gift is yours regardless.”

You unlock your bedroom door, leaning against it. You hug Jimin tightly, kissing his cheek.

“Thanks, Jimin. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you squeeze him once more.

When you part, you spot Yoongi waiting for Jimin in the hall, you blow him a kiss and step into your cabin.

“Thank you, Jimin,” you whisper as you look at yourself in the mirror. You admire the way the ruffles are soft on your skin, the lace not itchy like some sets you’ve worn before. You’re thankful Jimin cut the tags off because you don’t even want to imagine how much your best friend spent on something to get you laid.

You smile, tugging on Jungkook’s shirt that you stole from his suitcase while he showered before dinner and hid in the bathroom for this moment.

It felt surreal to be back together, and you swore you’d take things slow this time around but tonight had been so lovely. From dinner with your favorite people in the world to dancing the night away under the stars.

Jungkook was just as he was, and you hoped he kept true to his word. You love him so much, sometimes it feels overwhelming but you’re sure he’s your person and you are his.

Your love knows no bounds, and being back together makes your heart sing.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself, trying to hype yourself up but it feels like the first time all over again. You had been nervous that night, spilled wine on his pants, and bonked his head with yours when you both reached for a napkin to dab at the wine.

Jungkook ended up wearing some of your Kuromi pajama pants while his pants were in the wash. Who knew he’d look so good in them?

Jungkook is in bed when you finally open the bathroom door. He’s shirtless, scrolling on his phone until he hears the door.

“Oh,” his doe eyes widen when he spots you in his t-shirt. You climb into bed beside him as he sets his phone on the nightstand.

“Hi,” you whisper shyly.

“Hi,” Jungkook giggles in response as you get under the covers with him. He lies on his side so he can face you, his hand rests on your hip while the other gets tucked under his pillow.

Silence envelopes the two of you, shy smiles on your lips. Your heart beats in tune with his as he pulls you closer. Your forehead rests on his, your noses brushed, and Jungkook breathed you in.

It only takes a moment or two before his lips meet yours, kissing you softly. Slowly, your lips move with his feeling the slight pressure from his lip rings.

You moan, gripping his bare shoulders as he tugs you over him, making you straddle his tiny waist.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes in between kisses and light touches. “So much.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper, afraid that speaking too loudly will pop this bubble of comfort.

Jungkook hushes you with a finger to your lips, shaking his head befo he moves his hand to the back of your head to pull you towards him. Fiery lips meet yours as desire pools in your abdomen.

“Fuck,” he curses gripping you tightly, afraid to let you go lest he lose you again. He’s not sure he could survive it one more time.

“I’ve missed you. I love you. I need you.” Jungkook states as he kisses his way down your jaw towards your neck. Your fingers thread in his thick black hair, tugging as he nips at your neck.

“I missed you,” you confess in a heady tone as he tugs the collar of the shirt to the side. He’s eager to kiss any bit of you within reach, wanting to familiarize himself with your body once more and hopefully hear those dulcet sounds he loves so much.

Just hearing you moan his name might be enough to send him into the stars, dispersing among the sky.

“I love you,” you admit. Jungkook pauses, his gaze locked on yours as his heart flits in his chest, a sweet grin on his lips. You kiss him. You kiss the mole on beneath his lip, the mole on his nose, the scar on his cheek, and the mole on his neck; your favorite.

Perhaps later you’ll kiss the scar on his shoulder, the one on his ribs, and any new ones acquired in your time apart. You’ll familiarize yourself with his body once again, and become one just like you were always meant to.

Jungkook’s hand cups your face, moaning your name as his hands grip the shirt you’re wearing. “Let’s get you out of this, love.”

You nod, raising your arms to aid him.

“Wow!” Jungkook exclaims, admiring the lace that barely covers your body. He tongues his lip rings, his eyes dark and hooded as you grab his hands to place on your hips.

“Don’t just stare, baby.”

Jungkook nods, smiling as he pecks your lips before you guide his hands to your breasts.

His fingers toy with the string tying the two cups together, knowing he could easily get this undone.

Without a second thought, Jungkook easily flips the two of you over. You giggle when your head meets the pillows, your body caged between Jungkook’s broad shoulders and deliciously thick arms. You run your hands over his bicep, clenching around nothing when he flexes for you.

The list of things you’d love to do to him is endless but right now all you can focus on is him and the needy whimper that escapes him when his cock rubs against your cunt.

“I don’t want to rush,” Jungkook admits but a roll of your hips has him seeing stars.

Your hand laces with his, your thumb gently stroking his skin. “We can go slow, babe.”

Jungkook nods as he kisses you again, his hand cupping your cheek as your legs wind around his hips to pull him closer. Your name escapes him in a groan, the sound shooting straight to your cunt. Your eyes flutter shut as you curse, kissing him hungrily as your nails drag down his back. Jungkook kisses you feverishly, his tongue meeting yours, sucking it into his mouth. He pulls back, nipping your lip before he kisses his way down your body until he settles between your tits.

“I’ve missed these fucking tits,” Jungkook grunts as you tug his hair.

“Kook!”

He smirks, “Soon, baby. Be patient.”

“It’s been six months,” you whine as you tug his hair again, earning a tiny bite on your wrist.

“I know,” he responds, kissing your sternum. “But we have all night and I want these in my mouth.”

Jungkook grabs the black string between his teeth and tugs until the bow comes undone. Your breasts are exposed as the thin lace material goes in opposite directions.

It feels like heaven when his lips meet your heated skin. His soft lips draw out the sweetest moans from your parted lips with each kiss pressed to your skin.

“So beautiful,” Jungkook whispers as his eyes meet yours for a brief moment. He grins when you whine his name, begging him to keep going.

Jungkook aims to please as he takes a hard nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it slowly, gently tugging on it to make you groan before he sucks it into his mouth.

His hand grips your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingertips before he switches.

Your nails scratch at his scalp, gripping his hair to hold him closer to your tit. He sucks until your legs clamp around him, your hips writhing as you grind against him.

You’re soaking wet, dripping through your lingerie and soaking his sweatpants.

“Stop teasing me,” you plead as you arch into him, head lolled back as your hair splays on the pillow.

Chuckling, Jungkook releases you before he licks and sucks his way down your body until he’s gripping your hips with his hands. He tugs you onto his lap.

“I love you so much, baby,” Jungkook says as runs his hand over your mound. He pressed his index finger to your pussy, teasing you for a moment before he undoes the bows on your hips.

You lay bare underneath him. He’s transfixed by your arousal slick on your thighs, and he licks his lips. Fuck, he’s missed you so much.

“I love you, Koo,” you respond as he grips each of your thighs in his hands. He lies flat on his stomach as he drags you closer, draping your legs over his shoulders.

His tongue is flat as he licks a stripe on your folds. His tight hold on your thighs makes you moan as he teases your clit with his tongue.

A sigh escapes you as you stare at the ceiling, thighs trembling as Jungkook buries himself in the apex of your legs. Your hand reaches for his, fingers laced as he continues to feast on you. The sounds that escape the two of you are lewd, and if you weren’t so focused on the pleasure you’d be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“That’s it, baby. Pull my fucking hair,” Jungkook encourages as you do as he’s asked. You squeeze his head between your thighs as his experienced tongue makes you cry out his name, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your pleasurable cries.

“Don’t,” Jungkook huffs as he licks his lips. His dark gaze makes you clench around nothing as you focus on him. His lips and nose shine with your arousal, his hair is in disarray from all your tugging and pulling, and his eyes darken further as he moves your hand off your mouth. “I want to hear how good I make you feel. I want all your moans. I want everything.”

You nod, cursing as he slides two fingers into you and you arch, moaning when his thumb rubs your clit in circles. Jungkook kisses your thighs, his lips joining his fingers soon after.

Heat races through your veins as Jungkook curls your fingers, watching you intently as you begin to unravel. Your breathing has changed, your moans have risen in octave, and you dig your nails into his shoulder as your orgasm hits, and your back arches off the bed as a loud moan of his name fills the room.

Jungkook rubs himself on the mattress, your moans going straight to his cock as his chest fills with pride.

“Kookie,” you whine when the last tremors of your orgasm leave you feeling overstimulated.

Giggling, Jungkook kisses your clit before sitting up between your legs. His hands move up and down your thighs, settling on your hips.

“It’s been so long,” he admits in a soft tone. “Way too long.”

You sit up, cupping his face in your hands. Your noses brush as you look him in the eyes.

“Let’s make up for lost time.”

Nodding, Jungkook kisses you gently, falling deeper in love, if that were possible. With each kiss, he promises to be a better man for you, to be the one you deserve.

“Lie down for me, baby,” you instruct as you get on your knees to allow your “beefcake” of a boyfriend to take your spot. Perhaps you should have laid down a towel before ensuing your activities but it was too late now.

With Jungkook beneath you, your hands are free to roam where they please. You straddle him, your bare cunt on his erection with only the sweatpants keeping you from feeling him. Soon, you promise yourself. Soon.

A kiss here, a kiss there. You kiss each of his moles, licking and sucking his skin beside his neck mole to leave a pretty little mark. Perhaps you’d be more cautious, knowing he’d have work soon but you don’t care in the moment. You’d cover him in love bites from head to toe if you could.

Your finger traces the scar on his shoulder, and Jungkook watches you with bated breath. When you kiss it, he gives a quick anecdote of how it happened before you move across his chest to the scar on his ribs. You trace it as Jungkook fills you in on what occurred.

Your hands run over his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath. Jungkook’s always had a wonderful body. Such a beautiful man, inside and out. Everything about him makes you fall for him even more.

Your lips trail kisses down his taut abdomen, leaving hickeys on his hips, near his navel, and below his scar.

Teasingly, you stroke his hard cock over his sweatpants. He moans your name, begging you not to tease him. You giggle, kissing his cock over the sweatpants before slowly tugging them down his thighs.

You help him take them off before wrapping your hand around him, but your fingers still don’t meet. You smile as you stroke him, his soft whimpers making you wet.

“So pretty like this,” you coo, and Jungkook gasps when you spit on his cock.

“Please, baby,” he pleads as you lower your mouth, kissing the underside of his dick.

“You can beg better than that, can’t you?” You smirk.

Jungkook nods hastily, begging for you to touch him and stop teasing him. You reward him by wrapping your lips around his cock, your tongue swirling around the leaking head.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you slowly bob up and down his length. His hand finds its way into your hair, gently gripping it to steady himself.

You start slow, ignoring the ache in your knees as you slurp and tongue at his slit. His moans flow prettily from his pretty pink lips as you take more of him in your mouth. You do your best to take all of him but you gag, spluttering around him as you focus on breathing through your nose.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Jungkook breathes as his eyes roll back when he hits the your throat and you choke on him before pulling off. A bridge of saliva connects your lips to his cock as your eyes water before you take him back in.

You spit on him, using your hand to stroke him while taking his balls in your mouth. Jungkook curses, eyes squeezed shut as the knot in his stomach tightened. Fuck, if he didn’t know any better, he’d be sure you were torturing him to get back at him.

But you want to please him, you’ve missed having him just like this.

His whimpers encourage you as you release him, kissing the head of his cock once more before you bob up and down his length.

It’s Jungkook who stops you with a tug of your hair, wiping the tear that rubs down your cheek.

“I’ll cum down your throat if you keep going, my love,” he chuckles as you release him petulantly.

“But I want more,” you pout as Jungkook kisses you, his hand on the back of your head as yours winds around his neck.

“So greedy,” he chuckles before kissing your nose. “Don’t worry, I am too.”

“How do you want me, Koo?” You ask bashfully as you sit back on your knees, ready to get into any position he desires.

“Lay down for me, baby. I want to look at you while we make love again,” Jungkook helps you lie down beneath him.

His fingers lace with yours when you settle under him. Your heart races in your chest as he kisses you gently..

You spread your legs further for him, wrapping them around his waist to pull him closer. Jungkook lines his cock at your entrance, moaning when he slides home.

“Fuck,” he grunts as you curse against his lips. “Fuck, love.”

“I know,” you sigh as you take all of him, the stretch delectable as you remember. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you free your hand from his to grip his forearm. “Fuck, Kook.”

Jungkook tongues his lip piercings as he watches pleasure overcome you. He gives you a moment to adjust to his length. Your nails dig into his arm for a moment before your lustful gaze meets his.

“More,” you plead in a whisper as Jungkook pushes a little deeper, bottoming out when you feel like he’ll reach your throat.

Fire blooms in your belly, desire swirling deep inside you as you kiss Jungkook.

Jungkook pulls out nearly all the way before sliding back into you. Your back arches as he sets a pace that makes you moan incoherently. He kisses you, all teeth and tongues, and dulcet moans.

His lips trail kisses to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks behind as he moves his greedy lips to your breasts.

Jungkook’s broad frame cages you beneath him, his hips meeting yours as the lewd sounds of your lovemaking fill the room.

“Jungkook!” you cry out as you drag your nails down his perfect back.

“Baby,” he moans, slamming into you again and again, enthralled by the way your tits jiggle with each of his thrusts. You tighten around him, biting back a guttural moan as fire courses through your veins.

“So fucking wet for me,” Jungkook praises. His hand moves between your bodies to rub your clit while his lips find your tits.

“Love you. I love you,” you gasp as he grabs your hips, squeezing as he pulls you onto his cock.

“I love you,” he responds, groaning when your thighs quiver at his sides. You whimper, eyes fluttering shut as his name rolls off your tongue in a heady tone that makes his head spin.

“Jungkook, fuck,” you can’t think straight, too overwhelmed with pleasure to warn him of your approaching orgasm, but this is Jungkook, he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you,” he assures you as your hips meet his, and his lips meet yours in a messy kiss that swallows your moans as you hit your high. Your body tightens for a moment, your cunt milking Jungkook as he moans your name into your neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he whines as he fucks you through your orgasm and then through his. Sweat beads on your forehead and his. His black hair sticks to his face as he rocks his hips, sure he’s fucked you full of his seed before he pulls out and lays at your side.

Silence envelopes you two for a moment before you’re giggling with each other.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” you grin foolishly as you roll onto your side to face Jungkook, who is already watching you.

“Definitely,” he agrees, his hand pushing your hair out of your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

“Don’t get cheesy with me,” you poke his chest, smiling when he bites your finger playfully.

“You love it when I’m cheesy,” Jungkook responds as he pulls you to his chest. You’re both hot, and sticky with sweat but you’re willing to ignore it for now, at least until you can drag yourself up to use the bathroom and shower again.

“I love you,” you confirm as you place your hand in his. He laces your fingers together, moving your joined hands over his heart, kissing them.

“I love you too, baby. I always have, and I always will.” Jungkook swears as you lay your head on his chest, beside your joined hands, falling asleep to the sound of his heart beating for you.

The next morning is a haze.

You wake with Jungkook draped around you, his leg over your hip as he snores by your ear. You hate to wake him, but after you fell asleep, Jungkook had to wake you to shower, clean up, and change the sheets.

“Don’t get up,” Jungkook whines in his sleepy tone. “Stay with me.”

“We leave in a few hours and we haven’t packed,” you remind him. Jungkook groans as he clings to you.

You kiss him, morning breath not bothering you. “You’ll get more kisses if you get up.”

Jungkook whines. “No up, just kiss.”

“That’s not how this will work,” you laugh as you wiggle out of his grasp. Jungkook sighs as he sits up, his adorable bedhead makes you smile.

Lazily, Jungkook gets out of bed, yawning as he heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth and style his hair.

“I don’t wanna leave,” he says, well, you think that’s what he said with his toothbrush in his mouth. You shake your head when he spits into the sink as you pack your belongings in your bag, including the tiny pieces of fabric Jimin gifted you.

“We can vacation again soon,” you tell him as you shut your bag, and tug on the zippers to close it. It’s funny how you didn’t even want to come on this cruise, and now you weren’t sure you wanted to leave. However, you’d come without Jungkook and now you were leaving with him at your side.

Perhaps this trip hadn’t been so bad after all.

“I’ll hold you to it, babe. Now, when are we having breakfast? I’m hungry as hell after last night,” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “And this morning.”

You laugh at him, throwing a shirt at him.

Jungkook ducks out of the way, cackling as he shuts the bathroom door.

Jimin and Yoongi meet you for breakfast. The two are in their bubble as you approach with Jungkook at your side.

You sit beside Jimin, kissing his cheek. “Thanks for the gift.”

Jimin brightens, “You used it?”

Jungkook and Yoongi look at each other confused.

“Used what?” Jungkook asks as he takes a biscuit from the basket on the table. He bites into it before Jimin answers.

“The lingerie.”

Jungkook chokes on his biscuit, hitting his chest with his fist before he forces himself to swallow. Yoongi hands him a glass of juice, and Jungkook thanks him with a thumbs-up.

“You’re so back together!” Jimin cheers as he hugs you tightly. Yoongi rolls his eyes in annoyance, but a pleased smile appears on his lips.

“Can we stop talking about them fucking and move onto our wedding plans?” Yoongi asks as he stifles a yawn.

“How about a destination wedding?” you offer as you rub Jungkook’s back soothingly. He smiles weakly at you, his cheeks pink.

“I like the way you think,” Jimin grins as he rattles off ideas with you and Yoongi. Jungkook is too focused on breakfast to offer any input, but he’s sure you’ll catch him up on the way home.

Things were looking up for him.

Jungkook would have to give his assistant a bonus upon his return.

“Do we have to go?” Jungkook whines as he wraps his arm around your waist.

Jimin and Yoongi are packing the bags into the trunk of your airport shuttle.

“We do, work awaits,” you remind him as he frowns.

“What if we take a few days for ourselves? Just the two of us?” Jungkook questions.

“Oh?” You raise a brow. “What did you have in mind?”

“It’ll be a surprise until we get to the airport,” Jungkook smiles brightly. “I want you all to myself for just a little longer.”

“Then I am all yours,” you rest your head on his chest as he leads you to your friends.

“Ready to go?” Yoongi asks as he shuts the trunk.

“Definitely,” you answer as you take Jungkook's hand in yours.

You’re not sure what the future holds for the both of you, but you’re hopeful it’ll be bright with Jungkook at your side once more.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader insert #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst and smut #captain!namjoon #cruise au #exes to lovers jungkook #fic: navigating tides #jimin x yoongi side pairing #ex!jungkook

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

Text

Small Victories

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.

♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...

♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡

You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.

You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.

If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.

The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.

You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.

So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.

Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.

There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.

When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.

"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.

"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.

"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.

He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.

"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.

"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.

"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.

The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.

"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.

"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."

Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.

"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.

He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.

"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."

Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.

He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.

"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."

His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.

"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.

"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.

"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.

He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.

"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."

"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.

He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.

"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."

"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.

He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"We'll see about that."

And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.

You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.

It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.

The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.

You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.

You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.

The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.

The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.

The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.

She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.

"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.

"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.

"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.

"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.

"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.

"Very well, madam."

You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.

Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.

His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.

The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.

The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.

The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.

Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.

The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.

You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.

Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.

"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.

You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.

The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.

When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.

You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.

"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.

"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.

"Now."

The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.

"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.

"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."

You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.

You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.

"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.

"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.

"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.

"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."

"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.

He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.

"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.

"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.

"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.

"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.

"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.

"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.

You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.

He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."

You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.

Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.

"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.

"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.

Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.

He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.

You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.

He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.

He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.

"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."

You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.

He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.

He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.

"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"

You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.

"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.

The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.

You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.

You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.

His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.

"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"

"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.

He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”

"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.

"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."

You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.

"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.

He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.

His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.

He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.

You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.

You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.

He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.

"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.

"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.

You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.

He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.

"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.

You gripped his forearms and nodded.

He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.

He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.

"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.

He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.

He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.

You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.

You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.

"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.

You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.

You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.

He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.

He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.

Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.

He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.

He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.

"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.

He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.

He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.

And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.

Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.

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seungfl0wer · 14 days ago

Text

*𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏*

Pairing: Chan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Fluff/Smut (Short Oneshot)

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, mentions of getting pregnant, Oral (Both), mostly just a fluffy story with fluffy sex lol. Sorry for any mistakes or missed tags

Find The Request(s) Here

-🖤

You loved going on tour with your boyfriend getting to spend time with him and seeing all the different places. Getting to see him perform and everything it was just so exciting. Yesterday you landed in Australia which Chan was ecstatic to show you around. He brought you to see his parents which you’d already met a few times. His dad made some dinner while everyone talked and had a good time.

“Babe wanna go see my favorite spot?” He asked with a smile.

“Of course” you said smiling back.

As everyone finished dinner Chan asked if you were ready. He drove you to a beautiful spot, it was lit by the moon light. The ocean crashing against the shore, the sky just as stunning. Chan interlocked your fingers as you sat on a small bench just staring out into the vastness of the ocean. He kissed you lovingly, you couldnt help but notice him staring at you. He had a habit of this, just taking in your beauty. He studied your face memorizing every little inch like he would forget it if he looked away.

“I don’t know what’s more beautiful, you or the ocean” he said with a fond smile.

“I can’t compete with the beauty of your first love” you say with a teasing sigh.

He couldn’t help but chuckle kissing your cheek “you both are my loves” he teased.

You both sat there contently in silence enjoying the sounds of the waves and small birds still chirping. “Can I ask you something?” He said softly.

“Of course silly” you said smiling.

“You love me right?” He said.

You were taken back a small bit but chuckled “yeah most days” you teased.

He let out breath before kissing you lovingly. His hands came up to cup your cheek, he looked into your eyes. You could see how much he loved you. How his eyes almost formed hearts as he stared into yours.

“I have another question for you then” he said voice stuttering a bit.

You tilted your head looking at him “and what’s that?”

“Well first you gotta close your eyes.” He said with a nervous smile.

He could feel his heart racing, his hands were getting clammy. He knew you wouldn’t say no however he still was a bit nervous. He wanted everything to be perfect, he wanted it to be special. He got up getting down on his knee In front of you. He pulled the ring out, Funny enough it was a ring you picked out before. You had joked about how if he was ever gonna propose this was the ring. He saved it. That was almost 2 years ago and he still remembered.

“O-ok open” he said. As he watched your eyes open going wide as you realized what was happening.

“My beautiful, my love. Will you- will you make me the happiest man alive by being my wife? I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Growing old together.” He said his words coming out fast.

“Chan” you started to sob happy tears of course. You flung yourself on him wrapping your arms around him. “Yes, yes a million times yes. I wanna be with you till we are old and grey yelling at kids to get off our lawn” you giggled through your tears.

He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into him trying not to cry himself. A few small tears falling despite his best efforts. When he pulled away he cupped your face whipping the tears from your cheek. “Y/n I love you with every fiber of my being.” He said kissing you passionately. “May I put the ring on?” He asked pulling away.

“Oh yeah!” You said making you both chuckle.

He slipped the ring on kissing you once more.

“Christopher! No fucking way!” You almost screamed. “You remembered the ring?” You said not being able to believe your eyes.

“Of course I remembered silly” he said.

He sat back down beside you, wrapping his arm around your side. He pulled you into him, into a warm cuddle. You both sat there for a few hours just talking and enjoying each other’s presence.

When you got back home his mom was smiling ear to ear. “I assume it went well” she said before pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m so happy he has you” she said. Here came to tears again.

All the boys who had been outside came in smiling at you. They all looked so happy. “Wait y/n you said yes? Really? To this old man?” Seungmin teased.

“Yep, my old man” you said making him roll his eyes.

The next morning the boys were off to the concert, it went flawless as always. Chan had a special glow to him though. He just couldn’t stop smiling. Before ending the show for the night Chan stood there that smile still plastered to his face “Stay!” He yelled out. “I proposed to y/n!” He yelled louder. The whole crowed erupted. Quickly it became trending on twitter and everywhere else. Surprisingly everyone was supportive, everyone was excited to see your wedding. They were all happy to just see bangchan so happy.

——

The wedding planning started right away. You both brain stormed wanting to make sure it was both of you combining ideas. Although things had gotten stressful at points you had so many people that helped and supported you.

When the day had come it went so perfectly. Only small hiccups like almost falling over when you got into the dress. Which honestly made you and everyone else just laugh. Another hiccup that was also funny was Felix coming into your room to help with something and almost seeing you in your tits. He freaked out so much he ran into the wall. Not once. But 3 times before leaving the room. He couldn’t help but laugh, like you were hysterically laughing.

When the time came to walk down the aisle though as soon as you both saw each other neither of you could stop the tears. You both were crying, his mom was crying, a few of the boys and brides maids were crying. It was just a stream of tears. And it only got worse when you exchanged vows. Chans being so beautiful written of course.

Driving off after to head to the hall after for the party you were excited. Chan and you having a small make out session in the car. When you got there Chan had you sit down because he had something planned. You sat there as you watched all the boys come out and get into position. This mother fucker, wrote a whole song for you, got them to choreograph a small dance and had planned this out for months. The song was heartwarming and the small dance was just perfect. Just as it ended all the boys rushed you giving you a big group hug.

Chan and you both danced swaying back and forth as he kept repeating how beautiful you were. “Y/n you really look stunning, god I can’t believe we’re married. I can’t believe you said yes” he said making you laugh.

“Babe, I said yes how long ago” you teased.

“I know but I just- I’m just so fucking happy” he said kissing you lovingly.

You could hear the fake gags coming from a member or two making you laugh. “I’m really married to a man with 7 children aren’t I” you said.

He was laughing now “yeah sorry about that” he said.

The night went by watching as the boys, your family and friends all just having fun. You couldn’t help but laugh while you watched the boys twerking. Minho came up beside you chuckling as he watched them “you really married into this” he said.

“Yep I sure did” you said.

“You can still back out” he joked.

“I’ve already been stuck with you guys for how many years. What’s the rest of my life?” You said smiling fondly.

“True, I guess the boys do need a mother” he joked.

“Yeah gonna ground them all for twerking so badly” you both chuckled.

It was time to throw the bouquet, when you did Hannah, Chans sister was the one who caught it. The person who caught the garter was Hyunjin. If you know anything about weddings the person who catches the garter is supposed to put it on the leg of the person who caught the flowers. However Chan looked like he’d kill him if he did.

Hyunjin walked over placing it on Hannah arm like a bracelet. “Don’t wanna die tonight” he said loudly as he did Making everyone laugh.

As the night wounded down and everyone left Chan and you headed back to the house. You were excited for morning though, Chan had booked a honeymoon and wouldn’t tell you where it was. You were leaving in the morning bags already packed. Chan cuddled up to you all night both super tired from everything.

——

When you landed you were greeted by beautiful scenery, a vast blue ocean the looked like it never ended. The place he had booked had the perfect view, there was a huge jacuzzi tub and roses all over the bed. It was stunning it smelled like citrus and candy. As you plopped your bags down and also plopped yourself down on the bed. Stretching out after being cooped up in the plane for so long. The bed was comfortable, honestly felt like a cloud.

Chan smiled looking at you before climbing on top of you. He nuzzled his face into your neck making you giggle. Hearing you giggle he started tickling you, you busted out laughing squirming under him. You could feel him smiling against your skin. “My beautiful wife” he said as he pulled away. He looked down at you with love in his eyes, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

His hand cupped your face as he depended the kiss, tongue poking at your lips. You happily parted them as your tongues battled for dominance. His other hand roamed downwards, playing with your breast. He played with your nipples rolling them in his fingers pinching them ever so slightly. A soft moan was swallowed by him before you knew it he had your shirt off. Sucking gently at your skin leaving pretty purply red marks all over it.

He kissed down your body before swiftly pulling the rest of your clothes off. You gasped at the fast motion only to be met with his lips against your thigh. He kissed his way down them, kissing around your core before diving head first. His soft plump lips attached to your nub, nibbling it ever so perfectly. He licked a long stip up and down your folds before pushing his tongue into you. His hands gripped at your thighs holding them apart as his tongue fucked you. His pretty nose brushing against your nub every so often.

You were squirming, moaning loudly hands interlocking into his hair. You gripped it tightly making him groan into you. He loved when you pulled his hair especially while eating you out. “Is my pretty wife gonna cum?” He moaned out. Before you could even respond though he was pushing his fingers into you. Pumping them fast as he curled them. His lips started to suck harshly at you clit all the while keeping eye contact with you.

“Ch-Chan fuck- please- don’t stop!” You moaned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it” he said with a smirk.

His fingers were moving perfectly and his tongue working overtime. What drove you over the edge was a slight bite he left to your clit. Your body ached off the bed orgasm crashing over you. Chan road out your high pulling away with a long string of salvia. His lips were wet from salvia and your juice.

He fumbled to get his pants off, too pussy drunk to think straight. “Let me help you” you said breathily undoing his belt before pulling them down. His cock springing out, he was so unbelievably hard it almost looked painful. You couldn’t help but wrap your lips around it taking him slowly into your mouth. You were quite literally drooling over him. You took him back your throat the whole way as you started to bob your head. His head thrown back as you did he moved your hair from your face. Looking down at you he couldn’t help but moan the sight making him wanna cum.

“F-fuck baby- s’good” he said.

He let you go at your own pace watching you take him all in. “That’s it baby- fuck just like that. M’good girl. My pretty wifey” he mumbles out. As you swirled your tongue around the tip he almost gasped. “Shit- wait” he said pulling out from your mouth. You looked up at him a little confused “sorry love- i wanna cum in that pretty little cunt of yours” he said with a groan.

“Come here” he said pulling you up lips crashing into yours, he moved you back laying you down on the bed. He aligned himself to your core before pushing into you fully. Both of you letting out a heavenly moan at the feeling. Chan gripped your hips as he moved in and out of you. His cock filled you so perfectly his head hitting the your cervix. He pulled away from the kiss moving to look down at you. “My beautiful wife, fuck taking me so good” he groaned.

You felt his cock already twitching inside you, he wasn’t gonna last long at this rate but neither were you. “S’good- always feel so good-“ you moaned out.

Chan watched as his cock reappeared and disappeared inside of you. Your walls were clenching around him, sucking him into you. “Made for me, for me only my pretty wife. Gonna- fuck- gonna cum so deep in you you’ll get pregnant” he mumbled out. “Gonna fuck a baby into yeah? Fuck gonna be my pretty pregnant wife- shit” his movements were turning sloppy. Hands slinking up to yours. He interlocked your fingers together as he fucked into you. “Y/n I love you fuck I love you so much” he moaned.

You gripped his hands tightly feeling your high about to wash over you. Chans head rested in the crook of your neck moaning into your ear as he sucked/bit at your neck. “Chan! I love you to! My- my handsome husband!” You almost screamed your orgasm crashing over you. As he heard those words fall from your lips you calling him your husband his mind just short circuited. His body stuttered on top of you as he pushed one last time cumming deep inside of you.

He let go of your hands wrapping his arms around you holding you tightly to him as your highs washed over you both. Panting Chan pulled away to look at you “y/n I love you, I love you I love you I love you” he repeated.

“I love you to my handsome husband” you said smiling. He kissed you lovingly before slowly pulling away.

“Wanna get in the big tub together?” He asked smiling.

“Is that even a question” you teased.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

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girlsworldillusion · 25 days ago

Text

Ocean's Tear

Aemond x Siren!Reader

Summary: At first it was just curiosity. There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

Captain Targaryen, they called him.

It seemed like just a silly curiosity. But you quickly realize that your little curiosity turns into something much worse.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive:

Taking an interest in a human.

Rated: M +18

Warnings: interspecies relationships, mentions of blood and death, dark themes.

Word account: 9k

Author's note: This story was divided into two parts. I'll be posting the final act soon, if it gets a good reception. Happy reading!

At first it was just curiosity.

There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

That something could be many things, of course, and at first you thought it was just his unusual hair color, a singularity that made him stand out from the rest like a sore thumb.

Despite having seen many different humans throughout your life, you didn't remember ever seeing one with hair like his. As far as you knew, only aged humans had hair that color. But the man you began to observe closely didn't seem aged. Quite the opposite. His tall, strong physique indicated that he was a very healthy adult man of, if your knowledge of the human race was anything to go by, thirty years old at most. And yet, the strands of his hair were as light as the pure white moon that shone above the ocean.

But there was another singularity about the man. He always wore a damn leather eye patch on the left side of his face. When you first saw this, you laughed in derision at how stereotypical the human was being. What? A ship captain wearing an eyepatch? So predictable. All that was missing was a hook in his hand and a wooden leg to complete the standard pirate look.

It should have been ridiculous, at the very least. Except it wasn't.

It was actually embarrassing how fascinating you found the dark contrast of the leather with the silver strands that were always coming loose from his ponytail.

Honestly, it was worrying how quickly you were becoming interested in this strange human.

But, the days passed and, regardless of how peculiar those details about him were, that wasn't the only thing that made you pay so much attention to the man.

The way he behaved was also different from the others. Unlike the loud and obnoxious humans you were used to encountering while sailing these seas, this man walked the deck with his head held high and an indifferent expression, a cigarette lazily held between his fingers, telling each of the crew members what to do in a firm and authoritative manner, although he never had to raise his voice at any time.

Captain Targaryen, they called him. He was always calm, always in control, silent most of the time - as if he were directly responsible for inspiring and maintaining order around him. It was immediately clear to you why he was the captain of this ship. Just as it was also clear that this human was more fortunate than others you had seen. Not only did his posture and manner reveal his high-class upbringing, but also his ship which, despite keeping its simple dark tones and overall understated appearance, was much larger and much better preserved than those that normally visited this area of the ocean.

You didn't know who this man was, but he certainly wasn't just anyone.

Despite all this, he was still a human, and even though he had caught your attention for reasons that not even you could fully understand, you knew from the beginning that you shouldn't entertain such curiosity. Humans were cunning and treacherous little things, regardless of their appearance. And even if such a notion was irrelevant (it wasn't), he wouldn't last long anyway. Not here. If you had noticed the ship's approach and, especially, the presence of the various crew members inside it, your sisters had too. It was only a matter of time now. The days of not only this man, but everyone under his command, were numbered.

You shouldn't entertain your curiosity.

But, despite all your rules, tact, and minimal capacity for good judgment, you found yourself getting closer and closer to the human's vessel.

Surprisingly, there was still some sense left in you, and you chose to do this always at night, when it would be easier to keep yourself hidden from unwanted eyes.

That was the reason, of course. Not the fact that it was at night that the man came out on deck to take a breather, when his crew was already asleep. Every night, without exception, punctual as clockwork.

Fuck. You are such an idiot.

A pair of large eyes peer through the gentle rippling of the water. Submerged up to your nose, you keep cautiously away (though closer than you were last night, and the night before, and the night before that... - tsk, idiot, idiot). The length of your long tail sways below the surface, deceptively delicate fins rippling in anticipation, tense and restless.

He lights a cigarette.

Your sensitive nose wrinkles in response to the disgusting and very human habit, but you barely blink as you watch him raise the thing to his lips. He holds it there until the tip burns an abrasive shade of red, staring at the dark, endless horizon ahead, the ship beneath his feet rocking rhythmically with the waves lapping at its sides. He pulls his fingers away after a few seconds to breathe in a cloud of smoke, and you swear you can taste the toxic flavor of tobacco even from where you stand. The thought doesn’t bother you as much as it should. The chilly night wind blows a few loose strands in front of his face, the rest of his silver hair tied back in a messy bun.

His posture during the day is always the same; confident and calm. He’s the picture of composure most of the time. But here, at night, smoking his disgusting cigarette in deep, silent contemplation, he almost always looks...sad. As if the burden weighs heavily on his shoulders and this is the only time he can leave small visible cracks in his normally impenetrable countenance.

Lonely. He looks lonely.

Maybe he's not so different from you after all.

Your tail fin shakes a little harder, the fingers on your hands flexing agitatedly. What was with this human, anyway? Why were you wasting your time here, trying to understand his fragile and insignificant human feelings when the time for hunting had obviously not even begun? This kind of behavior was not common in your species. Of course, if any of your sisters showed up you could just say that you were observing your prey, getting to know its weak points better for when the time came to attack.

But was that really what you were doing?

The human rests his elbows and leans his body on the edge of the ship, once again bringing the cigarette to his lips. His strong forearms are exposed by the rolled-up sleeve of his black shirt, showing off a pale ivory complexion, long and prominent veins along its length. He is like a carefully crafted statue, his body agile and tall, powerful and elegant.

He tilts his face gently and blinks slowly and vaguely. You recognize that this is the worst moment to realize that from where you are standing you can't tell the exact shade of his eye - apparently his only good eye, in fact. The thought leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

You want to know what color his eye is.

"Gods, what am I doing?" You mutter sullenly as you sink gently, pushing your body closer to the ship with a flick of your tail. Despite your obvious and undeniable propensity for making reckless choices, your movements are carefully calculated, using the waves and the blind spots of the moonlight to cover any suspicious tracks.

You are now as close to the human vessel as you have ever been - at least outside of a context other than exclusively for attack and feeding. If you swing your tail enough you might even touch the side of the ship, the human hovering a few feet above you. Your hands are strangely trembling beneath the surface, nervous and anxious, and you flex your fingers to contain your stupid reaction, feeling the sharp tips of your claws in contact with the soft palms.

Your discretion is rewarded with the human's seemingly complete ignorance, who remains in the same position as before, still smoking and staring at the choppy waves, oblivious to your presence. You sigh softly, a sound of relief, letting your eyes travel over the sharp, clear lines of his masculine face.

The night is dark, cloudy, with only the moonlight and a few lights from the human vessel itself illuminating the surroundings. But your eyes are capable, much more capable than a human's, made to see perfectly underwater and stalk your prey with skill, and you part your lips when you clearly realize that his eye is blue. As blue as the sea is near the coast, where the waves shine with a crystalline and mesmerizing prism, like ethereal stained glass.

As bright as...

The man exhales another mouthful of that intoxicating smoke into the humid night air, but you barely blink where you stand. Your fingers instinctively close around the stone attached to the necklace floating in front of your breasts. The blue gem is cold against your fingertips, but you know its power and magic burn like burning embers.

You’re so distracted that you barely notice the significance of the human’s next move, your eyes only half noticing his hand rising to his face. You watch without really seeing as he removes the eye patch from his face, vaguely returning to the present as you think of the strange break in routine that this act has made - he had never removed the eye patch during the nights you had been watching.

He would go out, smoke that horrible cigarette without any rush while looking out at the endless sea, throw the toxic stuff on the floor when he was done and extinguish the ember with a drag of his boot before entering the ship to sleep. Every night, religiously.

Any thoughts of routine evaporate from your mind when the leather finally comes off his face, caught between the captain’s fingers as he lowers his hand. Your lips part and your eyes widen, your tail freezes below the surface for a few seconds.

There is a stone where his eye should be. A blue stone. A stone you would recognize anywhere. Your own blue gem seems to warm between your fingers in response, glowing subtly as if sensing the presence of a twin stone.

“W-what...but - how?” You whisper, confused and alarmed. How could this human have something like this? Not even all sirens had such a stone. You yourself only managed to find yours a few years ago.

The Ocean's Tear, as the stone was known to your kin, was an extremely rare and nearly impossible to find relic, treasured by all sirens for its power to grant them specific ‘gifts’. The gifts vary from individual to individual, however. While some could heal themselves from any harm, some could hear the thoughts of others as if they were their own, others could persuade any living creature to do what they wanted. The possibilities go on and on.

You, after decades of tireless searching, had found your gem in a remote corner of the ocean, having gone through thirst, hunger and almost losing your own life when facing a relentless pod of hungry orcas that chased you at some point towards the end of the journey. It was an exhausting search and almost cost you more than you were willing to give, but it was all worth it when you finally touched your own 'ocean's tear'. You remember how the jewel warmed slightly and sparkled like countless bright diamond points between your trembling fingers, reacting instantly to your touch, as if it had also been waiting for this moment all its life - waiting for you all its life.

You cried that day, for the first time.

Of course, after days and days of the gem hanging proudly around your neck and nothing different happening, you started to get suspicious. Days turned into months and months stretched into years and you didn't see any change in your body; no psychic gifts, no persuasive power over sea creatures or self-healing abilities. You were still just you, the same as always.

It was frustrating and humiliating.

But you couldn't stop wearing the jewel, after all it was still the 'ocean's tear'. Any siren who had it would automatically gain the silent respect of others. You were someone capable with this stone. With it, you were important. Someone wise and strong enough to seek and find the impossible. You were proud to show off your relic - even if it was useless in the end.

The bad mood was constantly present with you since then. Disappointed, but strangely not surprised. Of course this would happen to you; of course you would swim tirelessly across the seven seas in search of the jewel of jewels and it simply wouldn't work for you. That's the kind of karma that haunts you.

You had almost died to conquer the impossible only to find out that the impossible didn't want you.

And now this human dares to flaunt the impossible as if it were something anyone could have?

As if it were something that some random human who thinks he knows the ocean could claim for himself just because he has a ship and other stupid little humans to put inside it?

The stone wouldn't do anything for him, you know. The gem only reacts to sirens, without exception. This human dared to steal something that belongs to your species, only for the artifact to be absolutely wasted in the end. In this human's hands the jewel was just a cold, shiny stone. Beautiful and exotic, no doubt, but useless.

(But wasn't it also useless in your hands?)

You snarl at your own incriminating thought, narrowing your eyes to slits as you watch the human tilt his face - oblivious to the dangerous and highly emotional turmoil of a supposedly non-existent creature right next to him. The moonlight gloriously intensifies the smooth complexion of his handsome face, the aristocratic line of his nose, the long silver strands fluttering in the wind. His good eye and the damned stolen jewel, dark as the deep waters of the sea.

The instant thought that this human, selfish and cruel as he is, could be as deserving (or undeserving, in this case) as you of something as pure and sacred as the ocean's tear, is so offensive that it is physically nauseating. How could he have something that you have spent decades of your life searching for? Something that countless of your sisters would never even have the privilege of seeing, much less having for themselves? He does not deserve this.

Your teeth grind, the sharp canines piercing the inside of your mouth until you taste your own blood.

He's the enemy. No matter how interesting and handsome you find him, the stone (an heirloom of your people, not his) that he sports embedded in his face is just more proof of how dirty and morally corrupt humans are - something that, admittedly, you have known all along.

He's a thief. A sneaky usurper.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive. Take an interest in a human. And you know it. From the human race, only the worst is expected, really. You just hated that this human in question was so fascinating.

"How did you get this?"

Your own grumpy voice echoes in the silence of the night, scaring not only the human on the ship, but yourself as well. The sound is a bubbling rustle of words, hoarse around the edges and almost brittle from disuse, rarely having been used for conversational purposes. But it is audible enough to catch the human's attention. Your eyes widen, any animosity and anger instantly forgotten in the shock of your complete and utter lack of control. The man turns his head in the direction of your voice, quick as a whip, at exactly the same moment that you react and dive.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot!" You repeat the mantra, swimming until you are at a safe depth.

The question had simply slipped through your lips without you being able to stop it, but you knew how much you had screwed up.

Looking up, distressed and uncertain, you see through the ripples of the water that the human is staring intently at the sea, his one eye sliding from one corner to the other - trying to find the source of the voice he heard. The darkness of the night is on your favor and you know he can't see anything but foam and the dark waves, no matter how hard he tries. You hope he quickly comes to the most logical conclusion for this situation; that he didn't hear what he thinks he heard. It was just his own mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he blames it on tiredness and sleep, or the lack of it.

But as he stands there, brows furrowed and serious eye, stubbornly searching for something that even he himself wouldn't know what, something whispers to you that he won't just give up.

"Hello?" He asks in a thick, drawling tone, tired you notice, once again leaning slightly on the side of the ship to better see the waters below. When no sound other than the waves of the sea is heard, he hums thoughtfully for a moment, almost imperceptibly softening his frown to something more neutral and calm. "It's okay. I know you're there. It's not the first time I feel like I'm being watched, to be honest." His voice is the same as you remember; steady, controlled, a low timbre that’s almost husky around the edges. You would be delighted by it, as you have been many times before, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, your cheeks darkening in embarrassment at the confirmation that he’d somehow felt your presence this whole time.

Gods, a human was embarrassing you. What had you come to?

"But this is the first time you've said anything. I have to say that you surprised me tonight, since I assumed we'd be playing this game for a while longer." He continues, a vaguely playful quirk in his drawl, adjusting his body so that he's leaning sideways on the deck and bringing what's left of his cigarette to lips again. Your heart pounds violently in your chest, your tail fin rattling restlessly with your anxiety.

You don't know why you're still here.

He puffs out his swirling cloud of smoke, looking completely at ease and at ease with the situation - although he's heard a mysterious, feminine voice ring out in the middle of the night, in one of the most dangerous parts of the entire ocean, in a place where he logically knows there no be any women. But he remains calm. Unlike you, who have everything but control over yourself at this moment. And, once again, you feel diminished by this human.

He behaves in the opposite direction of what you're used to from human behavior. He confuses and intrigues you, awakening feelings you never imagined you had for someone of his kind.

Here you were, undeniably afraid of being caught, but unable to simply swin away and leave him behind. All because some random human had made you interested in him. Turned you into a soft thing, fascinated by unusual hair colors and eye patches. Watching a lesser creature constantly, attentively and almost obsessively, like a damn stalker would - and not even in the sense you normally watch humans; in the context of predator and prey. With each passing day it became more evident that you were not planning to eat this human.

It was just you, interested in him.

For the first time in your long life, you don't know what you're doing. He messes with the natural order of things and you don't know what to do.

The world has grown old. But not you, nor any of your many sisters. The world has grown old, but it has always been the same to you. There has always been an order to follow. You have been here for longer than you can remember, hidden beneath the waves while the men above came and went, building and destroying everything around them. You have watched them grow into selfish, greedy creatures, thirsting for a dominion over the world they are unable to maintain. Blind to the fact that there are other forms of life besides their own, men see themselves as better and more important, hunting and killing without scruple or consideration those they consider inferior to them. Without remorse.

But it is here, in the far corners of the ocean, that they find retribution for their acts of greed.

Men take everything. But here, shadowed by legends and tales, the sirens feed on men; on proud sailors roaming the vast blue sea, their noses in the air and their egos throbbing that nothing could harm them.

You were the men's reckoning. That was all. This was the natural order of things.

The time for the men on this ship, including their fascinating captain, was approaching, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to prevent such a fate. You shouldn’t entertain mixed feelings for him. You shouldn’t. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t do anything against an entire horde of sirens that would inevitably be here soon. Cultivating any feelings wouldn’t do him any good, much less you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to show up yet. You’ve already given me the proof I needed to know that I’m not insane, and I appreciate that.” He continues his monologue above the surface, unfazed by the lack of response, a small, amused tug at the corner of his pink lips. Below the waters you almost snort, thinking that he definitely shouldn’t be grateful for that. Regardless of whether you decided to show up or not, he would still be considered, at the very least, ‘insane’ by anyone who heard this story later.

His words, however, bring heat to your stomach, rising until it darkens your cheeks.

The Captain Targaryen had graced you with fine words, admittedly, simple as they were, and perhaps there was some truth to them. He had always been different, after all; he lacked the common harshness and cruelty with which captains tended to lead their crews. He had a fair amount of coldness in his speech, true, and his humor was acidic and even dark at times. But he did not seem cruel. He commanded with a firm hand, yes, but also with respect.

Perhaps, deep down, he meant well.

But there was still that voice that screamed that his nature would inevitably betray him. He was human, after all. It was in his nature to be seduced by his own greed and ambition. You only wondered how long it would be before the tide turned and he showed his true colors.

But even knowing all this, you find yourself unable to stop yourself from making the next monumental mistake.

The man sighs wearily one last time, betraying his indifferent facade, the cigarette clutched between his fingers falling to the floor of the deck, just waiting for the usual drag of the sole of his boot. He looks a little longer at the dark waves below, his neutral expression not wavering much, but there is that same glint that screams loneliness flickering discreetly in his blue gaze - the stolen stone singing to you from the other side. He would leave.

Before you think, you are acting.

In your seriously questionable logic, you know that nothing has really changed around you. But in your body powered purely by adrenaline and poor choices, you feel as if even the waves have calmed in response to your action. The world stands still as you push yourself to the surface with a rhythmic undulation of your tail, webbed fingers moving in unison. Even the wind seems to have died down; all you can hear is your blood rushing in your ears. Deep in your chest, something pulls, twists, hurts — sings —

Your head slowly emerges from the water.

It takes a few seconds for the Captain’s gaze to settle on you, and you could have used that time to try to make amends for your rash decision, but you choose not to move. And when he looks at you, his indifferent expression finally cracking to reveal a single wide eye and lips parted to gasp a startled sound and you finely sketch a reaction other than silent hysteria. A shy smile stretches your plush lips as you notices his expression, despite how seriously damaged your nerves are — perhaps irreparably. You did this, you broke that perfect calm of his.

Despite your silent victory, your large, narrow-pupiled eyes stare back at him with apprehension, your heart racing in your chest and your breathing ragged. There’s a moment when neither of you make a move, both frozen in place, unsure of what the hell to do with the surreal scene unfolding right in front of you.

It feels like an eternity in the void before you’re swallowing the uncomfortable lump that’s permanently lodged in your throat, daring to swim in hesitant jerks closer to the vessel.

He watches you with unwavering focus, a little more composed, but still open-mouthed. His steps stagger slightly, but eventually he too makes his way toward the lower part of the ship, where you’re swimming.

You stop when you reach the raised boarding platform, the human slowly approaching from the other side, never taking his eye off you, as if afraid to blink and you’ll disappear. He stops walking when you raise a hand, blinking in surprise at the elastic, almost transparent membrane between your spread fingers.

Somehow he quickly understands what you want, shaking his head once to signal that he won’t go any further from that point. With that, you prop your elbows on the edge of the platform, lifting yourself just a few inches above the surface, the heavy strands slick on your head and saltwater running down your cheeks to drip from the tip of your chin, the bridge of your nose, and the arch of your lips.

“I...fuck, what the hell was in that cigarette anyway?” He gasps and crouches awkwardly, looking away at the length of your long tail swaying beneath the waves, lush fins undulating languidly like a delicate wet veil in the wind. He takes in every last detail of you with absolute focus, leaving you as embarrassed as you're flattered — but mostly, hyper-aware of yourself. But you force yourself to relax, trying to imagine yourself through his gaze.

The countless shiny scales all over your tail range from an endless expanse of onyx to purple at some angles, gradually lightening to the side fins and the end of your tail, tinged with a striking shade of translucent lilac. The purple scales were also dotted softly all over your body; rising in a perfect gradient from the sides of your waist until disappearing into the soft cream of your skin, on the undersides and sides of your forearms and elbows, delicately covering the soft, discreet mounds of your breasts and marking the entire line of your spine.

There is a discreet dusting on the tops of your cheeks, a subtle kaleidoscope of purple and soft pink that transforms into small, bright freckles as your emotions rise - as they are right now. Your full, pink lips hide almost normal teeth, except for the dangerously sharp canines and incisors. Long, thick eyelashes over a pair of large, expressive eyes with slitted pupils like a cat's. Your hair waves around the shoulders, floating beneath the surface of the water in a slow dance, partially hiding the three small lines that mark the gills on either side of your neck. Your hands, though small and seemingly delicate, are adorned with long, sharp claws, as dark as the darkest part of the ocean, the thin translucent membrane between your fingers much stronger than it looks.

It's unnerving how insecure he makes you with his prolonged silence, just looking at every inch of you with his bright eye and parted lips.

You know you're beautiful. If there's any truth to the many tales about your species, it's the undeniably seductive appeal of your appearance. Deadly beauty, the tales say. It's your greatest hunting trick, after all. But under the weight of that watchful gaze, you find yourself unable to escape the clutches of insecurity. What if he didn't find your colors appealing? It's true that your scales aren't as vibrant and colorful as some of your sisters. Your tones are more muted and simple compared to the bright and open ones of your distant relatives. Maybe he found you...too dark?

And why is this human's opinion so important to you?

You huff and straighten up until your shoulders are completely out of the water, the sapphire pendant floating in front of your chest. Your expression takes on notes of embarrassed annoyance, the small freckles on your cheeks and the bridge of your nose shimmering subtly. The human drinks in your reaction attentively, not understanding what they mean, but undeniably fascinated by them.

"You're...holy shit...this is a dream, right? It can't be real. You can't be real." He mutters lazily, voice slurred and thick, wide hands flexing at his sides in two tense fists, the night wind mussing the moon-like strands of his hair. "I knew there was something out there all along, but this...you..." he shakes his head in denial before continuing, "nothing as completely perfect as you can be real."

Oh. The dusting of color on your cheeks deepens and you look away, uncomfortable with the stupid shiver in your belly at the human’s words. Why did he have to be so rudely blunt? You blink the salty sea water out of your eyes a few times before looking back up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning an indifference you don’t feel. Rude, definitely. But, gods, such a handsome rude. His sharp features are as delicate in some ways as they are rough in others. A man, undeniably. The lights from the ship illuminate his striking features, highlighting skin as smooth and pale as the sand on the clearest beach.

Except for one detail.

The flickering yellow of the artificial lights only intensifies the depth of a grotesque scar across that false eye. Your eyes narrow slightly, following the rough, jagged line of the cut that runs from the middle of his forehead down his cheekbone, ending just inches above the corner of his lip. A raw, deep cut, a wound that certainly caused him a lot of pain - perhaps it still does. A scar like that indicates a trauma that cannot be easily overcome after all.

Did he get it while he was behind the ocean's tear?

The thought inevitably brings you back to what was the trigger for this whole colossal mistake, making you quickly focus on the blue stone in his left eye while trying to ignore the discomfort of seeing such a comprehensive wound on this human.

"How..." You rasp, pushing the hoarseness out of your normally melodic timbre, even though your tongue feels uncomfortable inside your mouth and your throat scratches from being used after so much time in silence. The man looks at you with disturbing focus, however, his gaze lazy and bright, his lips slightly parted, as if he were listening to the most enchanting and pure sound of all. "How did you get that?" You point a finger at the stone when you manage to say the words, direct and honest, leaving no room for confusion.

He blinks once.

"Uh, this?" He extends two fingers to the stone in question, tapping its cool surface twice, a slight tug of amusement on his lips. “I found this a while back when diving near a reef. Shinier than anything I've ever seen.” He sounds almost proud as he drawls, though he shrugs at the end — as if the accomplishment isn’t all that big of a deal after all.

Your fascination with the human is eclipsed by the blinding wave of irritation and humiliation that rushes through your veins at the sudden words. What the hell does he mean, ‘found this a while back’? As if the fucking ocean's tear is something a stupid human could just stumble upon by accident? Near a reef, of all places! As if something so inexplicably valuable could be so easily discoverable?

Fuck, as if you didn't literally almost die because of that!

What were the gods doing to you, anyway? What kind of cruel joke was this? How much more would you have to be humiliated by this human before you finally snapped and killed him?

“Liar.” You hiss slowly through your dangerous teeth, refusing to believe this lame version of the story. Your eyes narrow and your nose furrows a fraction, along with your eyebrows. Beneath the surface of the water your tail jerks restlessly, creating a visible ripple in the waves around you. The human, to your silent satisfaction, seems to have some sense after all and notices that something has changed in you. His posture, once reverent and curious, is now more alert and cautious, though he doesn’t pull away immediately. His shoulders roll slowly beneath the shirt and his jaw tenses once before he extends his open hands to you in what should be a reassuring gesture.

"Hey, it's okay..." His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, and it's embarrassing how his calm tone has an effect on you, making you almost instantly relax your fingers clenched into tight fists that you barely noticed you were holding. He remains crouched for a few seconds, but shrugs his shoulders and arches his back a little, as if he wanted to make himself smaller for you. Less threatening. You almost burst out laughing at the sheer silliness of it.

This human wouldn't be a threat to you even if he were at his full height - which you admittedly agree is well above any human you've ever met. Even watching from afar all these nights, it was clear to you that his size surpassed yours in almost every way. Your upper half, of course. He was wide and tall where you were seemingly delicate and fragile. Except for your tail. At its full length you would be much taller than him.

Yes, you may seem delicate overall, but that is just another deceptive hunting device, a feminine appeal that screams fragility and seduction, luring your prey until it is too late for them.

You are anything but weak, and no matter what, he is still human. His strength, as great as it may be, would still be nothing compared to yours. One move, right now, and he would be dead. If you really wanted this, it would be over before he even realized what had happened.

You could wrap your fingers around his ankle and pull him into the dark waters; it would take just the right amount of pressure and speed and he would hit his head on the deck as he fell, probably dying instantly from the blow. But even if he survived that, his end would come quickly beneath the cruel waves of the ocean. Whether from the inevitable loss of oxygen, or the absurd pressure as you pulled him under, or even from the deadly claws you would sink into the fragile flesh of his human body. Or even your fangs, long and sharp as needles as they slice into the pale softness of his throat, draining the life out of him as he gurgle and choke on blood and salt water.

There were at least ten ways you could kill this human right here and now, and you wouldn’t even have to think about it. It would be natural, you’ve done it before. If you wanted to, he’d already be dead.

But…

You don’t want to.

And that’s why you don’t laugh at his attempt to calm you down. You don’t laugh because it’s not funny. There’s no humor in the feeling of mourning in your chest for that instinctive, natural part that seems to have laid down and died inside you. There’s no hunger, no thirst, no desire to make him pay for humanity’s selfish, cruel acts. There’s no predator and prey tonight.

You blink away the sting of tears wanting to form, tense expression softening to something almost melancholic, fins flicking slowly beneath the water. By the seas, you wouldn't cry in front of this human. It would be the height of your humiliation.

"What I said is true, I swear." He continues his soothing murmur, slowly lowering his palms, looking straight into your eyes with such interest and focus that you feel as if it were just the two of you in the world. What a foolish thought. "I actually found the stone by accident. It was just a dive like any other, nothing special. And then it was there. So bright that even hidden under the sand I could see it perfectly." He smiles a little at the memory, reciting the facts calmly and carefully, obviously wanting to avoid angering you again. "It doesn't shine like it used to though, now it looks more like a dead flame or something. I don't think it belongs in the world outside the sea." A tired sigh escapes his lips at the end, his expression almost disappointed - even though he's trying for a reassuring smile.

You snort.

"Of course it isn't. But that's what you humans do, after all. Always taking what doesn't belong to you." You recite the words in a disapproving tone that doesn’t carry as much hate as it should. Not for him, at least.

He looks at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, forearms resting on his knees as he thinks about what you just said.

“Yes. I suppose so.” He murmurs after what feels like a lifetime, exhaling through his nose.

There’s silence between the two of you after that, nothing but the waves crashing against the hull of the ship as he stands contemplatively looking at you, as if searching for answers in your face. He’s not embarrassed by it, nor does he even try to hide his obvious interest in you. It’s unsettling, to say the least, to have this human’s attention so completely on you. Flattering too, but you don’t think much of it.

You definitely don’t want to be the first one to look away, but you’re getting restless with the intense eye contact and the silence, your sharp nails rhythmically drumming on the metal of the plataform. The shiny dust on your cheeks and nose becomes more and more evident, and perhaps the Captain is finally connecting the dots because a small smile stretches his lips - a genuine smile this time, something light and sweet, but undeniably provocative.

"It's doesn't react to you!" You say abruptly, spitting out the first thing that came to mind just to break the tension of the silence between the two of you. But your tone is too shrill and loud not to be seen as suspicious, increasing the color and intensity of the shiny dots on your cheeks and shoulders. The captain raises his eyebrow in amused question, indicating that he hadn't understood. You sigh, swallowing your own embarrassment.

"The stone. It's a special jewel... very sensitive, intelligent even, you could say. It's extremely reactive, just not to everyone." He listens to you attentively and with a sharp gaze, almost making you stumble over your own words a few times. "It doesn't shine like it used to because you're human and the stone know it. The ocean's tear, as it's called, only reacts to...uh, well...sea creatures." You find yourself irritatingly unable to explicitly say what you are, even though it's more than obvious by now. Some kind of throbbing self-consciousness takes hold of your mind, the very real realization that he can and probably will come to the inevitable conclusion that you and he are creatures from different worlds tightens your vocal cords and stops you from continuing.

Good heavens, as if the disparity between the two of you wasn't already obvious enough. Why would you suddenly be worried about it?

“Creatures like you, I suppose.” He contemplates, ruining your earlier subtlety with his irritating honesty. A small, sullen pout forms on your lower lip at that, more glittering dust of color staining your cheeks.

This was getting beyond ridiculous.

“Here.” You sigh grudgingly, breaking eye contact to pull the blue pendant from your long necklace between your thumb and forefinger. The stone is, as you said, reactive and immediately comes to life under your touch, singing and vibrating in the most beautiful shade of blue; prisms of diamonds and sapphires, resplendent and pure. The Captain Targaryen has the decency to look positively delighted to see this — as he should — and you smile softly at his reaction, finding great satisfaction in his rosy cheeks and bright gaze.

And then he’s standing to walk towards you, but stops short when you narrow your eyes and tense.

"It's okay. It's okay. I just want to..." he points to the stone, and you look at it. Then at him. And at the stone. And back at him. "I just want to get a closer look. But it's okay, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You're already uncomfortable, you want to scream. You've been uncomfortable for weeks now. He's seen you, talked to you, heard more words from you than you've said to any other human - more words than you've said to any species in a long time, including your own. None of it made you comfortable. And yet, here you were. It would be a stupid, reckless mistake, no doubt about it. But you've been nothing but stupid and reckless these past few days. It couldn't get any worse.

(Yes, it could.)

"It's okay." You mumble, relaxing the muscles in your body and softening your expression into what you hope is something more friendly, more inviting. "You can come closer."

"Yeah?" He asks and you just nod once, not wanting to repeat yourself.

It takes him a few seconds to continue, but eventually moves. The tops of his boots are quickly soaked as he lowers onto the platform, the salty water lapping in small waves at his ankles. Something in your stomach feels alive, you notice with apprehension as you hold his gaze, fluttering and growing colder with each step he takes towards you. A sort of instinct growing and taking over you, taking over the strings of your body as if you were just watching everything from the outside, without control.

Your arms seek better support on the deck and you push yourself up, sitting as best you can on the floor, your back against the edge of the vessel, most of your tail still floating under the water. It's an instinctive reaction, really, and you barely realize what you're doing before it's done. It's not comfortable, you realize immediately, but what's done is done and the human's dumbfounded look is worth the awkward position.

"I..." he begins uncertainly, crouching back down on his knees, this time right next to you, taking your permission to come closer very seriously.

His gaze inevitably drops to where your breasts are exposed, his chest rising and falling faster the longer he keeps his attention there. It's not an offensive behavior, although it still makes you self-conscious in a funny way. It's not his fault, really. They're just there, in front of him - without any of the fabric coverings that humans are used to wearing. It would be impossible not to notice. And, well, they're different. You know they're not the conventional breasts he's used to seeing, most likely. Unlike human breasts, your soft mounds are dotted with flexible, delicate scales in a prism of lavender and purple, with no nipples in sight. But they're still breasts, and he's still a man. So he stares, until he realizes he's still staring. His pale cheeks grow pinker and he quickly looks up at your face as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

A shy, yet somewhat mischievous smile stretches your lips despite your nerves.

"Fuck, this is insane." He scratches the back of his neck as he half laughs, half gasps, and for the first time, you find yourself agreeing wholeheartedly with this human. This is insane.

His reaction makes you relax a little, and soon you're holding the stone between your humiliatingly trembling fingers again and holding it out to him, as far as the necklace around your neck allow. He's closer to you than he's ever been, so close that you can smell the ghost of artificial mint tobacco on his breath. It's horrible. It's perfect.

The wind is more urgent now, whistling and howling and foaming water hitting the sides of the ship harder - as if the elements themselves are trying to warn you of the dangers of this approach.

You don't listen.

"It's...perfect." The captain whispers as he holds the stone, his long fingers inevitably brushing yours during the exchange, sending an electrifying, heated sensation through your entire body. He lowers his head to get a better look at the stone that gradually fades as it is held by his human hand, the vibrant and ethereal glow of blue fading to a darker shade. "Look at this, I guess I'm nothing special, hm?" He says this smiling, the stone still clutched in his fingers raised between your bodies, your faces close to each other. When he looks up at yours you are already looking at him, blinking with your large and expressive eyes.

Your own fingers raise, hesitant and curious, to the stone in his eye. You are slow with it, giving both him time to stop you if he wants to and yourself, but in the end neither of you reacts. The human just looks at your fingers before slowly shifting to your eyes once more, the night wind pushing a strands of silver between your faces until they touch your cheeks in a strangely intimate caress. When the tip of your two fingers touches the cool surface of the jewel it reacts immediately, drawing a sigh from both of you. The gem shines, warms under your touch, singing in vibrant and lively tones.

"I can feel -" The man murmurs almost breathlessly, blue eye wide open, dark pupil dilating like an endless black hole, searching your gaze as if you held all the answers he needs.

"What can you feel?" Your voice is no better than his, just as small and low. Your trembling fingers still on the jewel, feeling its vibration, listening reverently to the secret and silent song that it could only sing for you. The pure brightness reflects on your face, illuminating your features with a soft blue shade, enchanting the man in front of you as if you were an angelic image. A mythical and unattainable creature. A siren, in fact.

"I can feel...you." He confides with a reverent look, your own jewel still firmly gripped in his fingers, although inert and dark. The disparity should be frightening -; under your touch the gems shine and come to life, in his they wither and fall asleep. It should be just another indisputable proof in the already very high pile of evidence of how unnatural any involvement between you two would be.

But the collision is inevitable like the approaching storm.

He moves, leaning his body to kneel on the floor, soaking the fabric of his pants with the cold waves that partially cover this part of the deck. His tall, broad-shouldered body shadows yours, naturally trapping you against the side of the ship. Simultaneously you both release the grip your had on the jewels, as if you felt something had changed in the air. The pulsing muscle in your chest seems more intense and faster than ever as you looks at that stupid human, so close and so bold.

"What's your name?" He asks quietly, watching you so closely that you can barely focus on what was said, the question coming to you like an afterthought or a bruise that you only notice hours after it happened.

A name? Gods, how long has it been since you were called by your own name? How many decades has it been since someone cared enough to ask?

You whisper your name to him, confiding a part of yourself that was rarely spoken to anyone.

"..." he murmurs back, your own name sounding like the sunset over the ocean as it leaves his lips, beautiful and peaceful, yet breathtaking. You blink slowly, feeling as if inverse forces are at work in this moment. Feeling as if he has the gift of enchantment, unlike you. What is happening? "I am -"

"Captain Targaryen," you are quick to add, already accustomed to hearing his crew repeat his designation.

"Well, yes, that is usually what I am called..." he laughs softly, tilting his head an inch closer to you, meeting your gaze over the bridge of his nose. "But it is not my name."

Oh. Yes, of course. You know it.

He touches a damp strand of your hair, curious and gentle before letting the pad of his finger trace over the delicate curve of your nose, the outline of your eyebrows.

“Aemond,” the captain murmurs, and then presses the pad of his thumb against your lip, gently. You shiver, exhaling shakily at the touch. “My name is Aemond.”

Aemond.

The name rolls off your tongue and you repeat it, sweet as molasses, petal lips sliding against his thumb as you do so. He swallows with an almost mesmerizing movement of his Adam’s apple, heated gaze following the way his thumb presses against the soft fur of your bottom lip once more before he lets go of the touch. It’s almost disappointing to miss, but soon you realize he’s touching the bright freckles high on your cheeks and nose, one at a time, and then further to scratch along the shadows of color in your skin.

He’s close, almost sharing the same breath with you, so intensely interested in you that your heart catches in a slow burst of heat — of desire. An old feeling, hidden and locked away beneath layers of loneliness.

The gills on the sides of your neck itch and your throat starts to tighten from being out of the water for so long, a warning that you need to get back in soon. You know that.

You won’t.

Heart in your throat, you let him smooth your cheek with soft touches, thumb tracing the entire length of the curve of your jaw until it caresses the shape of your ear. His gaze is heavy on yours, mesmerized and fascinated, even though you haven’t used any of your gifts of enchantment. Not this time. Never with him.

“Beautiful.” He sings you an honest compliment and is so gentle, careful, hesitant even, as he pulls your face to his, and you feel the whisper of a nose slowly sliding against yours before thunder is heard in the distance. The sound isn't loud or clear enough to alert the human, but your sensitive ears are able to hear it perfectly and it's enough to snap you out of whatever spell you were trapped in.

He blinks rapidly with his one functional eye, the stone beside him now darkened to its previous shade of navy blue as you freeze and turn away from him, returning to the water with an abrupt and unkind movement. You keep your head above the surface however, staring at the heavy clouds forming more and more in the vastness above, feigning indifference to everything that has happened while your heart still thunders in your chest.

"A storm is coming." Is all you say, praying to any divine being that may exist that your expression is as serene and calm as you are trying to pretend.

The Captain - Aemond - is standing in the same position, looking at you with that stupid face, so confused and hesitant, as if trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

"Uh... I don't -"

He tried to reach out, tried to touch your hand as it floated above the waves, but you jerked away from him, sending him a narrowed, warning look, sharp fangs bared in a loud hiss.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, and your voice is venomous to him, for the first time. It hurts you to see the surprise on his face, the silent beginning of that realization that you could be a dangerous thing after all. You are.

It hurts, but you welcome the feeling. It is all your fault. If you hadn’t been so reckless, none of this would have happened. This human would meet his inevitable death at the claws of one of his sisters without the knowledge that you existed. Without you having experienced being in his presence, feeling his touch on your skin, having his attention entirely on you. It would be easier, for both of you.

Aemond Targaryen was every rule of survival that you ignored.

It was like one of those Greek tragedies that humans talked about so much.

The storm is approaching quickly and with it the end of this Captain and his sailors. The horde of sirens was aware of their presence, as it had been for days, just waiting for nature to intervene to create the perfect scenario for the attack. It would be reported later as a shipwreck, an unfortunate accident at sea that could easily be dismissed without suspicion. There was nothing you could do to stop it, even if you wanted to. And gods help you, you want to.

But you can’t save him.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

You stare at the dark cloud formation above once more, taking a deep breath to control the frightening wave of emotions that threatens to break your nerves.

“Why not?” he asks, sensing the warning in your voice, and you shake your head slightly, eyes filling with tears — tears you haven’t shed since you earned your Ocean's Tear. He calls your name and you still don’t respond. “Y/n, tell me why I shouldn’t be here.”

He presses, a little harder now, a little more concerned, and you should respond. You should warn him about the dangers that lurk in the depths of the ocean and the bloody future predestined for him and his sailors. He deserved that much at least, right? But then again, what good would that do? What good would there be in knowing about a tragedy he can't avoid?

"I'm so sorry." You sigh without looking at him, shoulders shaking with emotions that seem too big for your body to handle. "I'm really sorry..." your voice breaks and a tear runs down your cheek as you look up at him, the sparkling freckles on your cheeks highlighted and your brows furrowed in anguish.

"...What?" He's confused, of course, not understanding the whirlwind of events that followed your contact on the ship. He senses your anguish, your reluctance to tell him what needs to be said. And, gods, he looks so beautiful like this. Icy breeze blowing his silver locks in front of his face, his eye bright and his skin pale as moonlight. "Why are you crying? Please talk to me."

You slowly approach the edge of the deck again, where he's kneeling, still waiting for you. Your chest is tight and your hands are shaking, but you think you’ll tell him. You think you’ll tell him what you know will happen, even if you’re both powerless to fight the forces of fate. He looks at you, his calm and captain’s confidence taking over again, reassuring you. Your lips part to start to speak, but the sound of approaching footsteps sends a chill down both of your spines.

You hesitate for a second, staring at him with wide eyes. Aemond is also alert, allowing himself to look at you one more time before saying:

“Go, now! He can’t know about you!” He’s right. No human could know about you and still be alive. But here you were, staring at one you didn’t intend to kill. “Wait-” He keeps his voice low as he watches you prepare to go, though his tone is urgent. His gaze is pleading, not wanting to leave you but knowing he has to. “Come back tomorrow, please.”

You coo, a sad sound, wanting to tell him there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Not for him, at least. But instead, you wrap your smaller hand around his, careful of your claws, leaving a gentle grip on his knuckles as you look up at him with teary eyes.

“Take care, Captain Targaryen.” That’s all you say before you dive into the dark expanse of the ocean, never looking back. You couldn’t. Not when you felt so helpless. The jewel hanging from your neck protests and burns your skin so much that it even tears a grunt of pain from your lips, but you don't stop swimming, powerful fins pushing you as deep into the ocean as you can go. Silently you curse the stupid thing for not giving any sign of life in all these years, but choosing this moment to show that it was there.

The final act of this tale of tragedy was herep and your human would meet his bitter end at the merciless claws of one of his sisters.

You can't save him.

You can't...

You...

You can?

(And why did you think of him as 'your human' now?)

444 notes · View notes

runariya · 2 months ago

Note

🥸🪄🤫

Merman JK who placed a courting offer on a rock for a potential mate and human reader takes it. She also goes willingly to the mating cove not knowing JK prepared it for their mating. JK's yandere show at the end when the reader tries to leave him after 🤫

Note: JK wasn't really yandere for reader unti the end. He really just want a mate but because reader took his courting offer, she's it for him.

Thank u soo much for accepting reqs! And u write so fast how do u do that? Your writing is also marvelous!

(yandere+fantasy+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: merman!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, S2"L", yandere, merman!AU, dark romance warnings: oblivious reader, fluff, language barrier (merman-language is italic and blue), smut, a little bit of fingering, big cock JK similar to the shape of a whale idk man..., unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, panic, realisation, yandere, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.375

a/n: aaaah thanks a lot for your lovely words anony! I hope it turned out just as you imagined it 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The ocean is beautiful.

You remember a film once, where the male lead whispered that the moon is beautiful as a stand-in for "I love you," but for you, it's always been the ocean. The sea is your love. The scent of briny air, the soothing rhythm of waves unfurling endlessly against the shore, the gentle nibbling of curious fish as they dart around you in the cool, embracing water—all of it anchors you, providing solace in moments of sadness or joy alike. It's what love feels like, or at least what love should feel like, wrapping itself around your soul, calming yet oh so profound.

You always marvel at the depths of the sea that stretch out before you, boundless and mysterious, and yet infinitely captivating. Sometimes, in those quiet moments when the world recedes and you find yourself alone, you long not just to stand as an admirer of its splendour, but to be one with this vast and enigmatic force of nature.

And so, as you walk along the shoreline, as you do almost every day, your bare feet sinking into the warmth of the sand, you're taken aback when you stumble upon a bracelet resting on the stone where you so often sit to gaze at the waves. It appears pristine, otherworldly, with pearls and shells glistening in violet hues beneath the afternoon sun, a beauty far too rare to be discarded by chance on a lonely shore like this.

Your fingers trace its entchanting form, marvelling at the craftsmanship—the smoothness, the intricacy, though curiously lacking any engraving. You glance around, noting the empty expanse of the beach, and let your eyes wander across the vast waters; there is no one else here. The bracelet appears to be yours now by some strange serendipity, still, you hesitate for a moment, torn between leaving it behind and taking it with you, a part of you reluctant at the thought of it being swept away by the tide or snatched by a passing gull. In the end, you slip it over your wrist. But it doesn’t fit—too loose, and as you allow your hand to tilt, it falls away.

You frown, perhaps the universe is nudging you to let it go. But then, as you glance at the bracelet, now nestled near your foot, it occurs to you that perhaps it's meant to be worn as an anklet instead. That makes sense, and so, convinced by this thought, you sit down upon your stone and fasten the jewellery around your ankle. It fits perfectly now, shimmering with a quiet elegance in the sunlight. And as you lean back, stretching your arms behind you, allowing the coolness of the water to caress the tips of your toes, you know that it is, without a doubt, a beautiful day, and this small discovery seems to elevate it to something extraordinary.

It’s not long after when, suddenly, something stirs the stillness of the moment. You sit up straight, eyes wide, as not far from you, without so much as a splash or ripple, a human head breaks the surface of the water. Instinctively, you pull your feet close, nerves bristling slightly from the scare. “C-can I help you?”

But the man remains silent, drifting in the water, and as you squint against the sunlight to study him more closely, you spot what seem to be scales glistening on the back of his neck. Your mouth falls open in an instant—this can't be real. Yet here he is, a creature from tales of mermaids and mermen you once dismissed as fanciful myths. And here you are, unable to tear your gaze from his face, dark wet hair framing features both familiar and otherworldly, his violet-tinted eyes locking onto yours that sends a strange thrill through your veins. His smile, too, is not quite human but not wholly alien either, a delicate balance of sharpness and charm you think.

“Wow,” you breathe, unable to conceal your awe, the astonishment spreading across your face in a grin of its own. He moves then, slowly, swimming a little farther away, and you feel a pang of disappointment, a pout forming unbidden on your lips. But just as quickly, he beckons you to follow, his gesture smooth and inviting as he stays near the shore.

Without a second thought, excitement bubbles up within you and you spring to your feet, hastily dusting the sand from your dress as you jog alongside him, eyes transfixed by the way his body moves through the water with such fluid grace. His tail—large, powerful—propels him effortlessly, and you're left torn between admiring his handsome face and the hypnotic sway of his tail. He makes it look so easy, this gliding through water, while you're struggling to keep pace, panting and stumbling to catch up with him.

Soon, you find yourself before the entrance of a vast cave, its shadowy maw framed by a path of few smooth, small stones that allows you to cross where he has already vanished beneath the surface. Nothing would have prepared you of what you’re met inside. The cave is nothing short of paradise—sunbeams slanting through narrow crevices, casting a thousand reflections on the water’s surface, turning the space into a living kaleidoscope, while droplets of condensation plop gently from the stone ceiling, adding their own melody to the serene ambiance.

The merman is there, resting near a platform, still smiling that beguiling smile, making you approach slowly, leaving a respectful distance between you as you settle yourself against the cool stone wall. “It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your voice hushed in the face of such breathtaking beauty.

He regards you warmly, then speaks in a language that dances on your ears like music, though you can’t understand it. Still, there’s an unmistakable sense of warmth in his tone. “I hoped you would accept my courting offer.”

You smile, pointing to yourself. “I’m ___,” you say simply, hoping the meaning translates through gesture.

He nods, understanding the basics of this exchange, replying, “Mate.”

Thinking he’s simply stating that you’re human, you enthusiastically reply, “Yes! ___ mate. And you?” You point towards him right after.

His expression brightens once more. “Jungkook mate,” he responds, nodding firmly.

It takes you a moment, puzzling over his words, and then the realisation dawns on you—he doesn’t mean ‘human’. He means ‘friend’. Of course! A wave of happiness washes over you at this revelation, more than happy to be friends with him. “Yes! ___ mate, Jungkook mate,” you repeat, beaming.

His eyes glisten even more at your response, and you can’t help but smile back, the sheer magnetism of his presence holding you in its thrall. It’s as if he’s cast a spell over you, drawing you into his world, his realm. But the moment is soon broken by the buzz of your phone, vibrating in the pocket of your dress, reminding you of your upcoming dentist appointment. Regretfully, you rise to your feet, an apologetic smile on your lips as you back towards the cave’s entrance.

Jungkook looks visibly disappointed, or so you think, as his brows are furrowing ever so slightly, though his expression is still one you're learning to decipher.

“I have to go,” you say softly, “but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.” You gesture as you speak, hoping he might understand. “___ mate, Jungkook mate. Tomorrow, sun down, sun up, I here.” You gesture dramatically to emphasise your words, and to your relief, his features soften, his nod of understanding clear.

With one last glance at him, you turn and make your way back out into the light, already counting down the hours until you return.

🌊

And so, seven days drift by, each one seeing you return to the cave, where Jungkook awaits with that silent patience of his, the two of you growing ever closer, your understanding of him deepening with each shared glance, each exchange of words. With every moment together, the awkwardness ebbs away, replaced by a gentle ease, as if you’re learning to interpret the language of his quiet gestures, his lilting voice that carries meanings beyond the reach of words.

It’s on the eighth day, after you’ve spent enough time together to almost convince yourself that you can read the currents of his mind, that something shifts between you. The anklet around your ankle, the one you now realise must have been crafted by Jungkook’s own hands, seems to have inspired you to gift him something as well.

“Kook?” you call softly as you step into the cool shade of the cave once more, a bracelet for Jungkook clutched in your palm, something you’ve carefully chosen, a small token of gratitude for all he has given you. You shouldn’t have called out, though, for there he is, as always, waiting by the platform, his strong arms draped languidly over the stone, his face splitting into a wide smile the moment he sees you.

“Mate!” he calls in return, the word making your heart twist in a way you shouldn’t feel. He means friend—but the taste of it is bittersweet now, the small seed of longing inside you growing with each encounter, but you push it aside.

“I’ve got something for you,” you announce quietly, lowering yourself to sit before him, close enough to feel the cool mist of water from his skin as his hand instinctively reaches out, resting lightly on your legs, as if needing to sate his curiosity for your strange, warm softness. You take his hand in yours—his skin wet, cold beneath your touch—and fasten the bracelet around his wrist. It’s titanium, chosen for its strength, its resilience against the sea, knowing it will last, just as you hope this tenuous connection between you will endure. “A courtship gift,” you murmur, the words familiar now—he used them himself every time he pointed at your anklet.

Jungkook stares at the bracelet, turning his arm this way and that, admiring it from every angle, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He whispers the word that has become his tether to you: “Mate.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if the gift means far more to him than you had imagined, and his gaze, filled with such raw affection, causes a flush to rise to your cheeks, a smile tugging at your lips at his sentimental reaction.

But then, before you can make sense of it, his hands cup your face with a suddenness that takes your breath away, and his lips press forcefully against yours. The kiss is so unexpected, his pull so swift and sure that you lose your balance, your arms flailing before they instinctively loop around his neck as you tumble into the water.

He holds you effortlessly, keeping you afloat as his lips claim yours again and again, his cold mouth moving over yours with an intensity that blinds you to the cold water. You had wondered, more times than you’d care to admit, what he might taste like—whether the salt of the sea would be a part of him—but reality is sweeter than fantasy. There is a hint of salt, yes, but beneath it lies something sweet, something intoxicating, that makes you crave more as his tongue slides against yours.

His hands roam your body, sliding over the wet fabric of your dress, exploring with a curiosity that borders on obsession. His fingers press into your skin, kneading the softness of your breasts as his breath grows heavier, more laboured. You can’t help but let your hands wander in turn, feeling the smoothness of his scales beneath your fingertips, the hard muscles that ripple beneath his skin, as solid as the stone walls of the cave.

When you finally pull away, gasping for much needed air, your eyes meet his, and up close, they are even more mesmerising—violet speckled with flecks of black and blue, like galaxies swirling in the depths of his irises, and you reach up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and you imagine your own must look much the same.

Your peaceful moment is shattered when something thick and solid brushes against your thigh beneath the water, and with a startled shriek, you push away from Jungkook, not sure if your heart starts racing or stops altogether. But his arms tighten around you, keeping you from sinking beneath the surface, his expression shifting to one of sadness as he realises he’s frightened you. The panic ebbs as quickly as it came, replaced by a curious calm as you peer down into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had startled you.

“Oh,” you exclaim softly, your surprise evident as you realise it wasn’t some sea creature that had brushed against you, but rather, something that extends from Jungkook’s tail. And again, you’re not sure if your heart starts racing or stops, when you realise what it is. “Oh!”

His arousal is unmistakable—large, thick, and utterly unlike anything you’ve ever seen, more like that of a whale than a man, and you swallow dryly as you force your gaze back to Jungkook’s face. He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with an intensity that sets your skin aflame despite the chill of the water and his skin.

A deep heat begins to pool within you, your body responding to the sight of him, the proof of his desire for you undeniable. It would be a lie to say you aren’t tempted—to say he doesn’t stir something similar within you, something that makes your skin prickle and lungs work overtime. The wetness gathering between your thighs is evidence enough of that.

“Are you sure?” you murmur, your voice still echoing in the cave, your gaze searching his as if hoping he’ll understand the question without needing words. And perhaps he does, for his eyes darken with something unmistakable—an answer, a promise—before he nods, pulling you closer once more.

His lips find yours again, kissing you with a hunger that speaks of deep, aching need, his teeth grazing your skin, his rough tongue lapping at your lips, your neck, as though he can never get enough of your taste. You lose yourself to it, the world melting to nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body, the heat of his desire coursing through you like a you imagined devotion would feel like.

You help him rid yourself of the soaked fabric of your underwear, Jungkook’s hands exploring your thighs with barely concealed curiosity before his fingers find the sensitive skin of your cunt, teasing your clit until soft moans escape your lips, your grip on his shoulders tightening without much thought.

But you pull his hand away, knowing the water will only wash away your arousal, leaving you wanting. Instead, you reach for him, your small hand wrapping around the thickness of his cock, marvelling at its size, the way it seems to pulse beneath your touch. Jungkook groans silently, his eyes never leaving yours as you guide him towards your entrance, the size of him daunting but the ache of desire overpowering any trepidation.

You take him slowly, gasping as he stretches you wide, the burn too much at first but quickly giving way to a deep, overwhelming pleasure as he begins to move inside you with the little bit of his cock that fits, each thrust sending sparks flying behind your pupils. He holds your legs tight, forcing your thighs together around the remaining part, the friction equally becoming almost unbearable for you, his cock filling you to the brim, and before you even realise it, you’re crying out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his movements relentless as he fucks you with abandon, whispering words in his strange tongue, words you don’t understand but that seem to echo with a raw, untamed passion that makes your heart race all the faster, imagining he’s praising you, thinking that you’re such a good girl for him.

You lose track of time, of the number of times he makes you cum on his cock, your mind a haze of bliss, his name the only thing you can remember to say. Each time you think you’ve reached your limit, he pulls another climax from you, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with devastating accuracy, his low groans and moans clouding your mind even more.

Finally, you feel him tense, his body shuddering against yours as he buries himself as deep inside you as your physique allows, his release coming in thick, powerful pulses that fill you to the point of bursting. The sensation sends you spiralling into yet another orgasm, your body trembling uncontrollably, your mouth parting without a sound, as pleasure consumes you yet again.

When at last Jungkook pulls back, placing you gently on the platform, you collapse against the cool stone, utterly spent. It takes all your effort for the world to slowly come back into focus—the soft hues of the cave ceiling, the gentle lapping of the waves, the quiet drip of water from the ceiling above.

You lie there, breathless, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, like the restless waves outside the cave, wondering what you’ve just done, what it means, and whether you’ll ever be able to return to the life you knew before.

But your mind can’t settle.

The realisation of your stupidity and naivety crashes over you in waves—the impossible reality of sharing yourself with a creature of myth, the deep-seated regret that gnaws at you like a tide pulling at the shore, whispering that this was a mistake, that you should have known better, should have resisted.

You find yourself wondering absurdities—whether a morning-after pill could possibly work against the seed of a merman, or if his essence would simply fade away inside you like mist, dissolving with the salt water, leaving no trace behind. Your body feels foreign, strange now, as if you've been altered by his touch, by the unearthly pleasure that coursed through you, and an instinctive panic rises, setting your nerves alight, urging you to flee.

Your limbs still tremble from all the orgasms as you push yourself upright, hands unsteady as you try to find your balance, desperate to extricate yourself from the surreal haze that envelops you. Jungkook is still there, watching you with those mesmerising eyes, his fingers gently tracing aimless patterns along your exposed thigh, as if nothing in the world could be more captivating than the feel of your skin beneath his touch. His gaze is so tender, so filled with awe, that it only deepens the ache of guilt growing in your chest, highlighting the dangerous ground you’ve ventured onto.

You attempt to pull away, to create some distance between yourself and the fantasy you’ve allowed to take root, knowing full well that this is a world you cannot inhabit, a dream too fragile to hold in the blinding light of reality. But Jungkook’s hand is faster, catching your ankle in an instant, right above the anklet he gifted you—an innocent token that now feels like a binding chain, keeping you bound to something far beyond your understanding.

You struggle, trying to shake him off, beginning to feel more panicked than you ever been in your life, but his strength is undeniable, your efforts feeble against the power of his hold, of the very being he is.

And then, he speaks—softly, with that strange lilt of his voice, but this time, not in his tongue. The word that falls from his lips is yours. The sound of it stops your breath, chills not only the air around you but you too. And in that moment, you realise what you should have known from the beginning, what you should have seen the moment you clasped that anklet around your leg—you’ve crossed a threshold that cannot be uncrossed, a line that cannot be erased.

“Mate.”

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lilacs-stars · 4 months ago

Text

moon + tides

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) SUMMARY: you, ariel's daughter, find yourself in a strange relationship with the one and only infamous pirate captain, who's absolutely obsessed with you GENRE: yandere, a bit of angst, some comforting fluff here and there, especially at the end CW: a few mentions of violence, someone walking a plank, mentions of drowning, some suggestive material, nothing too graphic though WC: 4.2k

A/N: this req was really fun to write! I might have gotten a bit carried away, heh...this part includes the backstory of how you two got together and the first part of the req, and the second part will include the rest of it. hope you guys enjoy reading this cause I definitely put some hard work into it lol. also please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd really like to know your thoughts!

If you could go back, would you change what happened?

This is something that you often ask yourself.

You think about that fateful day frequently. It was the summer before your first year at Merlin Academy. You had finally convinced your parents, the famed mermaid Ariel and her Prince Eric, to let you go for a swim unsupervised. Being half-mermaid, half-human allowed you to transform back and forth at will. And although life on land was pretty good, your heart always ached to go back to the sea, to feel the cold, salty water as it engulfs you. To race along the reefs, tail swishing back and forth, allowing you to reach speeds far past what your human form can do. To leisurely swim amongst the many species of fish and plants that created the world of the ocean. To go back home.

Your parents had already gone over the rules with you hundreds of time, to the point where you could recite each one of them word for word: “Don’t go past the boundaries,” “Don’t approach any animals you don’t know,” “Don’t go so deep where you can’t see any light,” “Come out at the first sign of bad weather,” and, most importantly, “Do not, under any circumstances, interact with any humans.”

Your mother may be renowned for rescuing a stranger from the unrelenting grasps of the sea—if she hadn’t, you wouldn’t even be here right now—but that was a very rare case. Far more often than not, mermaid interactions with humans out on the waters ended up in the mermaid being tortured, held hostage, or even killed.

You knew the rules by heart, and yet, maybe it was because of your young age, you still broke them. You weren’t really aware of your actions in the moment; one second, you were swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, racing against the currents. The next, you heard loud voices and realized that almost directly above you, yet still a good few dozen meters away, was some sort of ship.

You had ducked down next to a big sponge, peering up apprehensively. It was at that moment you realized that you were far outside of the boundaries set for you by your parents. You should have turned back, should have swam back home, but there was something about the ship, something that intrigued you so much it forced you to stay in place.

A few moments passed, and seeing as there was no commotion, you let your curiosity get the better of you. After all, that ship shouldn’t even have been out there. Slowly, you crept closer and closer to the surface, making sure to remain in the shadows. The noises were becoming clearer; you could make out people’s voices now. But they still weren’t sharp enough for you to understand what they were saying.

Finally, you took the risk and poked your head out of the water near the rear of the ship. The sight before you elicited a sharp gasp, and made you wish you had just gone back when you still had the chance.

Extended from the side of the ship was a long, wooden plank. Standing on one side of it (the safe end), was a man, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. He looked to be no older than forty, with a scraggly beard and ripped clothes.

A pirate.

Another figure emerged, walking to the edge of the deck. Your reflexes caused you to duck down quickly, so only your eyes were barely above the water. This figure was much younger, with dark brown hair parted neatly and angular features twisted into a wicked smile. He donned a maroon blazer that covered a white shirt with an upturned collar. Something in his left hand shined brilliantly under the sun’s bright rays.

The younger figure laughed, but not in the way one would laugh at a funny joke. He unsheathed a cutlass from his side, using it to poke the back of the man on the plank.

“You see, Mr. Jones? This is what happens when you cross the most feared pirate captain in all the lands!” the young figure roared as he yanked off the older man’s blindfold, revealing to him his fate. The fear and panic that spread across the man’s face has been forever etched into your mind, even to this day.

You heard the man beg and plea for mercy, watched as every move he made caused the plank to sway even more violently. The pirate captain simply laughed, his crew along with him. Finally, when you suppose he tired of hearing the man grovel, you watched in terror as the captain gave the man a good kick in the back, finally sending him over the edge.

Suddenly, it was like the world was spinning in slow motion. The man plummeting off the wooden platform, falling, falling, falling. His screams muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Then, all too soon, he made contact with the water with a loud splash.

He sank quickly, devoured by the ocean’s waters within the blink of an eye. Your young, distraught face watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface. Then nothing. All that remained of the man’s existence, all there was to give proof that he had ever even been there, were a few ripples in the water.

That was it.

You were frozen in shock. How–what–why? Your brain could barely string together a comprehensive sentence. All you were sure of was the feeling inside you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, could barely even understand it. But it made your tail ache to move, made you feel as if you simply couldn’t stay in one place any longer.

You dove beneath the surface, frantically swimming towards the direction where you saw the man go under. You kept looking around, searching, but to no avail. You decided to dive deeper, swimming lower and lower until the water around you was near pitch-black. You were growing more and more panicked by the second, because every second you wasted was another second the man grew closer to death.

Finally, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Hope flaring, you darted towards it, the figure becoming clearer the closer you got.

It was him.

You reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to prevent him from sinking farther. His eyes were shut and he wasn’t breathing, but you could still hear a heartbeat. There was still time left.

Wrapping your arms around him, you started the difficult journey back to land. Thankfully, you knew of a small island not too far from here. Swimming with the added weight of a fully grown man was incredibly difficult, especially for a young mermaid, but you persisted. After all, this was his life on the line.

You swam as hard as fast as you could, and thankfully, by some blessing from the heavens, found a warm water current going the direction you were. You let it carry you, the rushing stream multiplying your efforts. Finally, after what seemed like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes, you reached the island.

Letting the wave wash you up on shore, you settled the man down on the soft sand the first chance you got. You rolled him to his front, which was quite the endeavor itself. His heartbeat had grown more shallow, but it was still there. There was still hope.

Using the skills your mother had taught you, you started to nurse the man back to health using your melodic voice. Ever since you were young, she had explained to you the gift bestowed upon mermaids, the power of healing through song. She taught you to sing before you could walk, and it was the one thing that you were sure you could do right.

As you sang your strange and melodious tune, it finally occurred to you that you were breaking the most sacred of rules. Not only were you interacting with a stranger, you were coaxing him back to life. Like mother, like daughter, you thought. I suppose healing strangers who were drowning at sea runs in my blood.

The only caveat to your healing powers is that it takes quite some time to have its full effects. You don’t know how long you sat on the beach, but it had been quite some time. You probably would have been there for much longer had it not been for the boom voice that sounded behind you, waking you from your trance of song.

“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t a mermaid.”

You practically jumped out of your fins as you turned around, startled beyond words. There, towering above you, was the evil pirate captain you saw earlier. He was even younger than you had previously thought. In fact, he couldn’t be much older than you. You wondered for a fleeting moment how a kid like that could command an entire ship full of grown—and scary-looking—men, but decided you have bigger matters at hand to worry about.

A few members of his crew lurked behind the captain, and you could see a small lifeboat docked to the ground near the coastline. Further beyond that, his ship swayed in the ocean waves, dark against the bright horizon.

You followed the pirate’s gaze down to your tail, which was still out. You silently cursed yourself for forgetting to transform back into your human form, being too distracted by saving the man to pay attention to your own safety.

You wanted to yell at the cruel pirate for trying to kill this man. No matter who he was, what he had done, he didn’t deserve to die. At least not like that. But the words got caught in your throat, so while a war raged inside your mind, you were completely quiet on the outside, simply staring up at the man with wide doe eyes.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said, with a tone that you wouldn’t quite imagine a killer using. He must have overheard me sing earlier, you thought to yourself. “Tell me, little mermaid, who taught you to sing?”

“M-my mother,” you replied weakly, your voice far more meager and small than you wanted it to be. You were still staring up at him, afraid of what he’d do to you.

“Your mother? Well, that’s quite interesting.” The captain raised his left hand to scratch at his chin, which is when you realized that it wasn’t a hand at all. Instead of a hand was a curved metal hook, with a sharp point gleaming at the end. So that must be the shiny thing I saw earlier, you thought.

“Oh, where are my manners?” laughed the pirate abruptly. “My name is Captain James Hook, leader of the Jolly Roger. And you are?”

You blinked, almost forgetting your own name. If it were a less tense moment than this, you would have laughed at the fact that his name is rather befitting for him. “Y/N,” you respond.

“Y/N…Now, where have I heard that name before?” He tapped his chin with his hook again.

“Sir, that’s the name of Princess Ariel’s daughter,” one of the big, meaty pirates behind him answered in a gruff voice.

“That’s right!” Hook exclaimed. “You’re the mermaid’s daughter. You know, rumor has it you’ll be joining me at Merlin’s Academy in the fall, is that right?”

For some reason, your voice seemed to not work anymore, so you settled for nodding. Join him? you pondered. You didn’t know that he was also a student at the school you were planning to attend.

Hook started pacing along the beach, arms crossed with his hooked hand extended, deep in thought. You watched him, fear growing by the second. A sly smirk spread across his face, which only served to fuel the flames of your worry.

“You know, you directly defied my command by saving that man,” he started. Slowly. Deliberately. Choosing every word precisely and carefully, like a shark circling its prey. “Do you even know why I made him walk the plank?” You shook your head no, the panic in you reaching record heights.

“That man”—he vaguely gestures towards the unconscious body laying on the beach with his hook—“stole an entire week’s worth of rations from my ship. An entire week’s worth of food and rum for an entire crew. Had he gotten away with it, we likely would have starved to death out at sea. Does he seem so innocent now, little mermaid? So worth saving?”

Again, you shook your head no. Although you agreed he definitely wasn’t an innocent man, you still didn’t see making him walk the plank a justifiable punishment. Despite your thoughts, you kept your mouth shut. Angering the captain further was not going to do you any good.

“Now, if anyone else had done something like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head right off,” Hook said menacingly, and with a swish, unsheathed his sword once again. You flinched—hard—and scrambled to back away from him.

Hook took note of this, and, sheathing his sword, crouched down to get on the same level as you. “But don’t worry, little mermaid. I won’t hurt you. You see, you’ve piqued my interest. Plus, it would do me no favors to have a little girl’s blood on my hands.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. So he’s not going to kill me, right?

“But, alas, you can’t leave unpunished, now, can you?” he added. Your eyes grew impossibly wider, your entire body shaking in fear. This was it. He was going to kill you, or do something equally worse.

“I demand”—you already felt a tear slip down your cheek—“that you write to me for the remainder of the summer.”

Wait, what?

“W-write?” you asked in disbelief. “As in…”

“Letters,” Hook finished for you. “Write me letters. I’ll give you the mailing address of the Jolly Roger. Write me everyday, and I’ll promise I’ll write you back whenever we dock. How does that sound?”

“O-okay,” you reply, still taken aback by the peculiar, and far more lenient than you’d expected, request. That was all you had to do? Write letters? As punishment for saving the life of someone he’d ordered to die? You must be dreaming.

“Oh, and,” Hook said, voice lowered as he leaned in close to you, until he was just a hair’s breadth away from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his alluring scent of salty winds and something richer, deeper, filling your lungs. “I look forward to seeing you in the fall. Don’t forget me, my little mermaid.”

With that, he stood up, smoothing out the lines on his pants. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride back home, would you, love?”

You shook your head no, too terrified of him changing his mind to spend another moment in his presence. You glanced back at the man lying behind you, still unconscious. “W-what about him? What will you do with him?” you managed to choke out, somehow finding your voice again.

Hook pondered this for a long minute, before finally answering, “He can live.” You let out a shaky breath. “But only because of you, little mermaid. And only this time. You go against my wishes again, and trust me, your punishment will be far more severe.”

And with that, he went back to his ship and sailed away.

You still muse about that day, thinking how different things would have been if you had changed just one little thing.

You kept your promise of writing him letters, too afraid to know what would happen when you had to inevitably face him in the fall to break it. At first, they started out simple. Ordinary recounts of your day, your favorite things, what you liked to do. As the weeks passed, you started writing more personal letters. How you felt about certain things or certain people, including your parents. You never spoke a word of that fateful day to them, knowing that you’d be grounded for life and forbidden from swimming ever again if they caught even a whiff of the danger you had put yourself in.

Hook kept his promise, too. He wrote you back, although it was far less frequent than your letters. Even though he kept his responses short and concise, you always ended up hearing his voice in your head as you read his notes. You soon found yourself checking your mailbox daily, even getting to know the mailman rather well. The rush of dopamine you got every time you opened it to find a letter awaiting you was unmatched; you would always run upstairs to your room, lock the door, and pour over the note. Reading every line, every word over and over again, committing them to memory.

You don’t know why you enjoyed these little letters so much. Maybe it was the thrill of having a secret that no one else knew of, or the absence of your usual loneliness every time you were reminded that somewhere out there, across the seas, was someone awaiting your letters, reading them, and writing back to you. Whatever it was, your heart started to form an emotional attachment to him without you even realizing it.

Unbeknownst to you, that had been his exact plan all along.

It’s safe to say that once you started school at Merlin Academy, Hook’s—or James’s, as he insisted on you calling him—grip on you only grew. Things started out pretty normal: light conversations in class and stolen looks exchanged across the hall, mostly initiated by him. After the first few weeks passed, things between you two only grew. Secret meetings during lunch hours, rendezvous after school, and small gifts exchanged between the two of you. From there, it became brushing your hands together whenever you passed by each other, soft pecks on the cheek or forehead where there were prying eyes, and more passionate kisses when the two of you finally found time to be alone.

Truth be told, you don’t really know what you two are now. Normally, you would consider two people that partake in such actions to be courting, and you kind of assume you are. But James has never said anything about a relationship to you, and in all honesty, you’re too afraid to ask him. You feel terribly confused at his intentions towards you; on the one hand, he approaches you every day without fail, even if you try to ignore him or when your schedules don’t match up. Somehow, he always finds a way. On the other hand, he never asked you to be his lover, never even vaguely mentioned anything of the sorts. So, you decided, with a heavy heart, to not be too confident and consider yourself his partner. And unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t yours, either.

Really, you never meant to grow so involved with the bastard pirate that threatened to kill you on the beach that day. But for some strange reason, instead of treating you coldly like he did everyone else, especially the other hero kids, he was softer with you. Considerate, even. You had half-expected him to want nothing to do with you after your first few interactions, but he kept seeking you out. You often opened your locker to a note inside, or entered your dorm to find a letter slipped beneath the door.

Today was one of those days. You had gotten a note telling you to wait for him in your usual place in the evening, after classes. So here you are, waiting, staring at the water fountain in the courtyard. You’ve always been transfixed by the way the water spurts out the center and splashes all around. It seems that whenever you’re alone with your thoughts, they always end up back to that fateful day you met James, and everything that’s happened since.

“Wait for me long, my little mermaid?” a deep voice whispers in your ear from behind. You jump only a little, far more used to James sneaking up on you now than you used to be. For some reason, it seems he loves to startle you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close from behind, or speaking softly in your ear.

You twirl around, a delighted expression on your face, although you try to mask it with a feigned annoyance. “And if I say I did?”

“Well then, I’d have to find a way to make it up to you then, wouldn’t I, darling?” he purrs, using his hook to spin you around in his arms so you’re face-to-face. His lips make his way to yours, pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to yours, not able to get enough of his touch.

The feeling of his skin against yours ignites something in you, and you find your mouth opening to give him more access as a soft whimper escapes your lips. One hand reaches into his hair, tugging at it gently from the base of his head, while the other one trails down the front of his shirt.

James leans into you even further, your bodies flush against each other now, as he deepens the kiss. You find yourself leaning against the edge of the water fountain, the cool sprinkles providing a welcomed contrast to your heating-up bodies.

Once you’ve completely lost your breath, you pull away just slightly, a love-drunk smile on your face. “You had a request for me?” you whisper, panting, eyes full of adoration for the man you were interlocked with.

James breaks into a grin. A genuine one, not one of the smirks he flashes to uphold his patented suave demeanor. “Ah, yes, how could I forget, my love?”

He pulls further away to give you two enough room to breathe, yet keeping his good hand on the small of your back. “I was reminded today that it's been quite some time since I’ve heard your voice, my little mermaid.”

You give a little smile, deciding to mess with him a bit. “Whatever do you mean? You hear my voice every day. I mean, you’re even hearing it right now.”

James cocks his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow, clearly aware of your antics. “Your other voice, love.”

You giggle. “Fine, all right. Only for you,” you say, giving him a peck on the nose.

You sit down on the ledge of the fountain, turning back to stare at the water again. Although it has been a long time since you stretched your tail and went for a swim, simply seeing the rushing water soothes you. It isn’t quite like being immersed in it, but it still gives you some semblance of comfort.

You reach into the pool at the bottom, letting the cool water rush along your fingertips as you inhale a deep breath. Through your mermaid abilities, your voice twists into an otherworldly song, filling the space with a mellifluous sound.

James takes a place on the ledge next to you, reaching into the water to hold your submerged hand. You don’t really feel it, too transfixed on the rushing waves. You don’t see the way James gazes at you, like you’re his entire world. The softness, the tenderness in his eyes, which he reserves for you only. He looks at you not as if you’re his sun, something too bright to ever stare directly at, something violent and explosive and harmful, but as if you’re his moon.

As if you’re the figure he watches every night before he closes his eyes, and the one he wishes to see again when he wakes up. As if you’re the only thing he notices every time the darkness envelops him, your presence never falling off the pedestal he places it on in his mind. Never losing its worth. He looks at you, your soft glow and mesmerizing shimmer, as if you’re the only thing filling up the night sky. The stars and constellations pale in comparison to you, especially on your best nights, when you shine so magnificently.

You are the moon, and he is the tide of the ocean, constantly being pulled in by you. Never being able to escape the grasp you have on him, the grasp you are so blissfully unaware of. He stares at you in awe and wonder, bathing in your gorgeous light, so close yet always so far away. Sitting all alone against the dark backdrop of the evening sky, waiting for him to come back to you. And without reason, you always disappear. Always leaving him wanting more, waiting till the moment he can bathe in your presence again.

As you sing, the tide gets pulled in by the gravity of the moon. Your lyrical voice bounces off the stone walls, surrounding you both, just as the moonlight surrounds the waves on that mystical night.

But the moonlight is only a reflection of the sun’s glow, is it not? When daylight comes, the moon will pull away from the waves, its absence in the sky all but forgotten in the sun’s presence. And as dawn breaks, so too will the pull between the moon and ocean.

on to part 2! ->

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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months ago

Text

When we are older | B.B

Your childhood best friend and you plan to marry on day, you can’t wait to be old enough to do so. But when you move away, things change and Bucky isn’t the sweet boy you fell in love with, or is he?

Paring -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount -> 6.724 Words

Warnings -> childhood best friends to lovers, Bucky being a sweet one, Bucky being a dick, Steve being a good friend, angst, mention of fucking other girls, hurt/comfort, fluff

Authors Note -> Republished after I deleted it a while ago. The idea was inspired by the song “older” by Ben Platt.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

10. March 1925

"Happy Birthday, Buck!", you scream and throw your hands around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms around you and presses your little body against his. "Now you're 8 years old,", you say with a proud smile on your lips, and you kiss his cheek gently.

"Come, I will show you my presents," he whispers, and he takes your hand into his little one. He runs, pulling you along with him, with a huge smile on his lips. He is so happy to have you with him. His little doll, his best friend and the one he loves the most.

When you both arrive at the table, you are fascinated by all the presents. "My new stuffed cat. I will call her Alpine. Mommy said, I will get a cat when I get older." He puts his stuffed animal into your arms. It's a little white cat with ocean blue eyes. They immediately remind you of Bucky's eyes. "It looks so sweet, and her eyes are as blue as yours," you say, patting the little head of the stuffed animal.

"And here," he says, climbing on the table to find something else to show you. He hands you a picture. It shows the both of you during the trip a few weeks ago. Bucky stands behind you, and his hands are wrapped around your waist, while you both stand in front of a waterfall. His head turns towards you, and you still know the words he whispered into your ear.

"We are going to marry one day, aren't we? I love you so much, my doll. You're the most wonderful girl in the world, and I will love you forever."

You both giggle when you look at the picture. His one hand wraps around your waist while you lay your head on his shoulder. "You still remember what your answer was?", he smiles, and you nod. How couldn't you?

"You're so sweet, Buck. I will love you forever, too. Can we marry at the beach? Or in the tree house?", you asked, and his answer was "Everything for my doll."

He put the picture back on the table and wanted to do the same with the stuffed animal when he saw you wrapping his arms around him and cuddling. "If you cuddle Alpine more than me, I'm mad,", he says, giggling, before you both walk back to the other guests. All of them are adults, but you both don't mind; you have each other, and that is everything that counts for you.

Bucky and you lay in the tree house, watching the stars and the moon, while most of the guests are home again. His hand is around you, and he presses you tightly against his body. "I wish we were already older; then we could marry,", he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You absolutely love his forehead kisses, and you're the only one doing it. Even when someone told him to kiss another girl, he hit the guy in the face. "You remember the theater when you almost wanted to hit the man's face?", you ask, and Bucky nods, breathing loudly against your skin and making you giggle.

The week before the holidays is always filled with much fun for the students. And this time it is a theater performance. You wait for Bucky before you walk into the room with the other kids and adults.

"Hey, doll,", he says, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses your forehead gently. You walk together into the room and take a seat next to each other. When the lesson starts, you both pay attention to the people explaining what you all have to do. But you and Bucky can't stop looking at each other every now and then. He smiles widely when you meet his gaze, and his eyes brighten whenever he looks at you.

After finding out more about the characters, the plot, and the role for everyone, you start to exercise the performance. You're on the stage right now. You play the fairy, which you really want to play, and walk in the background before you have to go to the prince to tell him what he has to do. Bucky stands in front of the stage, looking as often as he can towards you while he plays his role as the prince.

When you walk towards him, he smiles widely, while the princess sits in front of him, looking into a book. A dwarf has enchanted her, and the prince wants to help her before they are going to marry each other.

You reach them and walk a circle around them. "You don't need to fight against the dwarf; you only need to kiss her. The kiss of true love, my prince.", You say your lines and walk around them both before you go off the stage. He follows you before he turns his head to the princess.

Bucky leans down, but he is a few inches away from the princess. "James, you need to kiss her. Just her cheek or her forehead,", the man says. Bucky turns around and looks at him with half-closed eyes, and his eyes darken. He is angry, and you know that because when someone makes jokes about you, he looks like that too. "I don't want to kiss her,", he says, folding his arms in front of his chest. "We talked about that scene. It's just her cheek or forehead,", the man tries again, but Bucky shakes his head.

He walks off of the stage and towards the man. When he stands in front of him, he doesn't even reach the chest of the theater teacher. With his little fingers, he points up to him and speaks between clenched teeth. "I. Don't. Want. To. Kiss. Her.", he points out every word.

You smile at the scene in front of you. Little Bucky is a big man, but Buck acts like he is bigger and could throw the man down when he wants to do it. "But a prince has to kiss the princess,", the theater teacher says, pointing towards the princess before he looks back at Bucky.

Bucky shrugs and walks towards you. The man looks at the two of you in confusion when Bucky presses his lips on your forehead, making you blush. "I've kissed my princess. And she is the only one I will kiss. I'm not going to kiss a 'would like to be' princess. Only my princess, and she is playing the most wonderful fairy because she is the most wonderful and perfect girl on earth. Understood?", he says, looking with an angry gaze back at the teacher.

He smiles and shakes his head lightly. "Oke", he says, clapping into his hands. "Then you don't have to kiss her. Put your head on her head,", the teacher adds, and Bucky nods proudly of himself before he kisses your forehead again and walks back on the stage to practice the theater performance.

You both lay in the tree house, looking at each other and talking about everything and nothing. Both of you love to just be there; it's like your little home. And you're almost planning your wedding and your future life together.

"No matter what happens later, the one person I take care of, protect, and need in my life is you, my doll,", he says, and you blush, giggling about his words, but you want it too; you want him.

28. June 1933

Bucky stands in front of you. His arms are around your waist, and he presses you against his chest. He is still bigger than you, and over the years, he has gained a lot of muscle. The cute little boy turned into a young, wonderful man, and almost every girl loves him, even some boys.

"You know I still love only you,", he whispers, and his voice breaks a bit. "We are gonna marry one day. It's not that long until we can marry,", he jokes, but you can feel the tears running down his cheeks. You smile sadly when you pull away. Just a bit to look into his eyes.

His eyes are red, but he smiles slightly. He tries to give you some strength. "I love you too, Buck,", you whisper, and you know he will wait for you. Shit job from your parents, so you have to move to the other side of the country. But he is yours, and you're his; you both have said that. His lips meet yours, and you can taste your salty tears while you lay your arms around his neck, pressing him more towards you.

When you have to go into the car, he waves and runs next to it before your parents drive too fast for him. You lean your head back and close your eyes. The tears stream down your cheeks quietly. You know he will wait for you; you know you're the only girl in his life; and you know he wouldn't do the things you both did. But no matter how much you know that, you don't want to move away, even when you know you can come back in a few months, maybe some years.

You pull out the little letter he gave you before you take your seat in the car.

For my doll.

When you unfold the letter, you can see the whole paper covered with blue ink and his handprint, which you love. But you also see some points with smeared ink, and you know he cried when he wrote the letter for you.

Hey, doll.

I hope you will have a good start at the new school there. If not, write to me, and I will come to you as far as I can. Believe me, I wanted to tell you that I will never find the right words. I had a couple of weeks to think about the perfect words.

You smile at his words, knowing he is right. And so both of you could just cuddle and kiss each other. Lying in the tree house again and feeling the things you already felt eight years ago.

Can you imagine that I got Alpine eight years ago? And now we have the real Alpine for a year. I told you about a surprise; I will tell you what it is. When you open your suitcase, you will find something you really love. And I can't get the picture of you with it in your hand out of my head. So I decided you both are perfect for each other until I can hold you in my arms again when I visit you. When you open your suitcase, you will find Alpine there. The stuffed animal, of course, but you have loved her since my eight birthday, so she is yours, like I'm.

You feel the smile on your lips with every word you read, but also the tears. Your mom takes you out of your thoughts and off of the letter for a moment. "We planned a trip, and we could ask Bucky if he wanted to come with us. Actually, we already asked him and his parents, and they said yes,", he says, stroking your knees with his hand. You smile even wider and look at her. "That sounds perfect,", you say before you turn your attention back to the paper.

I love you so much, and I can't wait to hold you in my arms again. A second surprise for you is the chocolate you like the most. I put it in your favorite cup. This is the chocolate we had our first kiss with. Or it was the reason for our first kiss.

You chuckle lightly when you think about the kiss. The first real kiss you both shared was the first time your lips met his, and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach grew.

It was when the both of you were in the tree house, like always. You watched your favorite movie while eating your favorite snacks. When he was looking at you, Bucky pointed to your face. "Was it there?", you asked, giggling, and he sat up. You rolled yourself to the side and looked up at him. "There is someone chocolate,", he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. Then he placed his lips on yours. "I think I got you mixed up with the chocolate,", he whispered against your lips, making you laugh softly.

He told you a few minutes later that there was no chocolate, but he wanted to kiss you. He laid on his back again and was looking at you while he told you. You leaned your body over him and kissed him again, while his hands moved to your hips and he pulled you onto his lap.

I love you, my doll; I always have and I always will. I can't imagine a life without you because you are my life. I hope we can see each other in the next holidays; otherwise, I will go crazy.

And I know you will be the most wonderful girl at your new school, and they will love you. I hope it is for them; otherwise, they miss the best person there is on this planet. I believe in you, and I'm so proud of you, doll.

I love you 'til the end of the endless line.

Your absolutely best friend, boyfriend, and one-day husband, Buck.

You have never talked about boyfriend or girlfriend. It was something usual for you two. You love each other, and there is no one else in your lives. So no one of you needed to say that directly or ask for it; you both are perfect for each other, and you know it since you're little kids.

5. September 1933

It's your first day at your new school. During the time you meet a boy, he lives just a few houses away from you, and you both become good friends. He is as old as you, a blonde-haired, muscular boy named Steve Rogers.

The two of you had a lot of time during the holidays, so you spent this time together. He helped you to avoid the pain in your chest, and he helped you to live at least a bit without Bucky by your side whenever it's possible. And Steve made you laugh as often as it was possible.

"Steve, where are we?", You laugh and look around. You're in the middle of a big room, but no one except the two of you is there. "In the classroom. Oke, maybe not, but I thought it's here,", he says and looks around.

You laugh even harder when he starts to scream like a little girl. "What the fuck?", he shouts, and when you look at him, he stands behind a table. "A spider,", he says, scratching the back of his head and blushing. "But it looks like a very big dinosaur or something,", he mumbles, trying to climb over the table again.

You look at him. "A dinosaur, really, Steve? You remind me of Bu-", you interrupt yourself, and your eyes widen. "Sorry, I'- not wanted,", you stutter quietly, but he shakes his head. "It's oke; don't worry. I know you miss him,", he says, and you nod your head, feeling the tears in your eyes, and wipe them away with one hand.

You feel his arms around you, and he holds you until you calm down a bit. "Can we go to our class now? I think this isn't the right room,", he whispers, and you chuckle lightly. Then he takes your hand and pulls you along with him out of the room and into the next room.

"Mrs. Y/L/N and Mr. Rogers,", the teacher says, pointing to the seats in front of him. You already don't like the place, but when you complain, the teacher will hate you. So you just walk to the table and take a seat, looking up at your teacher. He nods and continues with his lesson.

While you work on the tasks, your teacher walks around, and he often stands next to you. Steve sits next to you, and whenever the teacher isn't next to you, he makes jokes, and you almost burst out laughing whenever he says something.

"Steve, this is way too funny,", you say and giggle lightly. "Is it?", The voice of your teacher appears behind you, and you feel the cold shiver along your spine. "Sorry,", you mumble, but it doesn't help much to get less homework.

The lesson feels like two hours when you finally hear the bell and you almost run out of the room. You have a short break right now, and you want to use it to write a letter for Bucky. You told him you would send some his way, like you two did during the holidays.

When you reach a bench, you sit down and search for paper and a pen. You don’t need to think too long about things you write; you always have something to tell him, even if it’s only ‘I miss you’ or ‘I love you’.

Hey Buck.

Like I said last week, school started today, and it’s not too bad. I and Steve were late because we were in the wrong room, but it was oke. He made a lot of jokes in the lesson, and the teacher saw it.

But no matter how funny he is, he isn't like you. I really miss you, and I hope we can meet during the holidays. And in a few years, we can finally marry. I wish we were already a bit older.

How are you, and how is the school? Still as boring as always?

I love you, Buck.

Y/N.

You write, and when you finish it, you smile and put it all back in your back. With a look at the clock, you see the next lesson starts in a few minutes, so you walk back to go to your math class.

"Y/N!" Steve shouts and smiles at you when you walk closer. “Let’s go to math class, oke? And what do you think about a movie night?” he asks, and you nod immediately. “Sounds perfect,” you say, and the two of you make your way to the next classroom.

10. July 1935

You haven’t seen Bucky for eight months now, and he doesn’t write you letters anymore. You miss him so much, and it gets worse every day. Not even Steve can help you, so he made the best plan for the holidays, and when he stands in front of your door and shows you tickets, you smile lightly.

“We are going to meet him,” he says, and you look confused. “In the cinema?” you ask, and Steve chuckles. Then he shakes his head and hands you the tickets. You look at them, and when you realize this, your mood immediately changes to happiness.

Those are two tickets for the train, and when you read the place you are going, you can’t stop smiling. “We are going to meet Buck?” you ask to make sure you haven’t read something wrong. Steve nods at you, and then he points to the date. 10. July; 10.25 a.m.

"Steve, that’s in one hour,” you say, and you turn around to look for everything you need. He looks at you with amusement but also with adoration in his eyes. He takes a seat on your bed while you put everything in your bag.

When you suddenly turn around, you face Steve. “You’re the best,” you whisper, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “I know,” he chuckles, and he kisses your cheek gently. “But now let’s go,” he says, standing up to walk out of your room. You follow him.

The drive to Bucky takes a while, but with Steve, it isn’t boring. The two of you play some games and talk about everything and nothing. Even when you have already told him a lot about you and Bucky, you can always find other things for him to tell Steve. And he listens even when you talk for hours about it, and sometimes he asks you things so he can listen to more of your stories.

“He doesn’t have holidays yet, so we can go to school and meet him there,” you say while you wait to finally arrive at your home. Even when you live in another place now, your old home is still your home because of Bucky.

The next station is the one the two of you need to get out of the train. So you put your things into your bag and put on your jacket before you walk to the door with Steve. A big smile forms on your lips when the train slowly stops, and you would jump up and down when you could, but there are a lot of people, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself or Steve.

“Do you smell that wonderful air?” You ask when the door opens, and you take a deep breath. Steve chuckles, but nods then. “It’s nice here. So where is the school?” He asks immediately and looks at you.

He loves to see that huge smile, your lips, and the way your eyes brighten when you think about Bucky. Steve knows that Bucky means a lot to you, so he feels your joy inside of him as well. And he knows you to see that you’re so excited about the trip like he is. Steve can finally meet Bucky, the boy you always talk about and who seems like a really nice guy and lovely boyfriend.

You make your way through the streets to the school. With every step, you feel the excitement inside of you growing, and when you see the big building, you want to run there.

“There we are, almost, this building there,” you say, and you smile wide when you point to the school. The two of you walk next to each other along the street. With every step, you see more of the building and the schoolyard.

“When you walk around the corner and then along the street, you reach my old house,” you say, pointing to a corner. Steve follows your finger and looks interested. “It looks beautiful here, even better than in your stories,” he laughs, and you do as well. “Thank you for coming here with me,” you mumble before the two of you walk over the schoolyard.

“No problem. I prefer to see that beautiful smile of yours,” he chuckles, and you look up at him before you take his hand and pull him with you until you reach the entrance of the school.

There are already a few students, and when you look around, you see your favorite brown-haired boy. “Steve, Steve, there he is,” you mumble excitedly and walk closer to Bucky, who stands next to a tree and a little bench. When you walk closer, you see a girl standing in front of him, and she laughs about something.

“Buck,” you say, and he immediately turns around. He nods towards you and looks up and down at you before he looks at Steve. Bucky looks like a young man now; he has muscles, a slight beard, and his short brown hair is messy, but his steel blue eyes are still the same, as are his looks as well.

He turns his head back to the girl, excuses himself, and then comes closer to you and Steve. “What are you doing here?” He asks and nods to Steve. “I wanted to see you. I wrote a few letters, and now Steve said, we come here." You mumble and look up at Bucky.

The brown-haired boy nods and opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, another girl comes closer. “James, it was wonderful yesterday. Do you think we can do it again?” She asks, and you feel a cold shiver along your spine.

“But not today,” he says, and the girl smirks at him before she walks back to her friends. “Sorry,” he mumbles and looks back at you. You feel like you don’t know Bucky anymore. He looks so different, and his gaze and voice are so cold that you shiver whenever you look at him.

“How are you?” You ask, not knowing what else you could ask. "Good, and you? It looks like you found someone,” he says, looking at Steve, who stands next to you. “He is my best friend, but we are not together,” you say, and there is just a nod from Bucky.

“James, babe,” the girl he excused himself calls him. He looks annoyed and turns around. “Even when I fuck you, I told you not to call me ‘babe’ and I’m busy right now,” he groans, and you gasp quietly. The girl mumbles something, but Bucky just shakes his head and looks at you again.

“Sorry,” he says, and you feel the tears in your eyes. "Do you sleep with her?” You ask, and he chuckles darkly before he shakes his head. “I don’t sleep with her; I fuck them. Those girls beg for me; they are on their knees to spend a night with me. And I can do whatever I want with them; they are like fucktoys,” he explains, and you feel a tear rolling down your cheek. “What happened?” You whisper, and he looks confused before he shrugs.

“Buc-“ he interrupts you. “James,” he corrects, and you feel like you're in front of another person right now. The sweet boy who wanted to make you smile, loved you when you laughed, and wanted to marry you isn’t in front of you right now, and you don’t know why he is the way he is right now.

“I have my next class now, and after that, I go to a party with some girls to fuck them, so I need to go to my class now. It was nice to see you. If you want to get fucked too, you can just ask, but I’m sure he is also really good," he says, looking at you before he looks at Steve. “Have you fucked her, or are you the one making love?” He laughs sarcastically and waits for Steve's answer. “I don’t fuck her, and I haven’t slept with her. She loves you so much that she says no to everyone who just wants to dance with her, except me,” Steve says, placing an arm around your shoulder while you feel even more tears streaming down your cheeks.

When Steve says that you love Bucky, there is a moment where he looks like a lost puppy, a broken boy, but it immediately changes into a cold gaze, so you're not really sure if you saw it right. With a nod, he walks to the entrance of the school.

“Now we are older, and I wish we were younger,” you mumble and hide your face in Steve’s hoodie. He holds you tight against him and rubs your back with his hand, trying to calm you down while he mumbles sweet words into your ear.

“It’s oke. I have you, and he is hurt; he can’t see that he is doing this to you too,” he whispers, and you look up at Steve. Your eyes are red, and your cheeks are wet while you look up at him. “What do you mean? He fucks with all of those girls here,” you mumble, and you feel the tears burning in your eyes again. Steve uses his thumb to wipe them away and looks at you with a small smile.

Before he answers, he lifts you up, you let him carry you to the bench, and he sits down with you on his lap. “Have you seen that gaze when I told him you love him?” Steve asks, and you nod. “He misses you, and he is hurt. Maybe you should talk to him,” Steve explains, and you shake your head. “Noo,” you whisper and lean your body against Steve’s, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t an offer; you will talk to him or I will,” he demands. “I don’t want to”, you mumble against his neck, and you close your eyes to get some sleep. Steve rubs your back slowly and helps you to sleep while he looks to the door, waiting until Bucky can go home.

It’s not too long until the door opens and the first people run out of the building. When Steve finds the brown-haired boy, he looks at him until he recognizes him and walks towards the two of you. You're half asleep when Bucky stands in front of you and looks at Steve. “What are you still doing here?” He asks and then looks at you with a loving gaze for a moment.

“I know you have a party you want to go to and fuck all those girls, but I want you to know that there is one girl who really loves you and she waits for you. When she saw you with those girls today, something broke inside of her, and I know you’re hurt. I don’t know why, but I don’t want you to hurt her. There was no one other than you she was talking about, and whenever someone asked her to go out, she said no,” Steve says, looking at Bucky with a serious look. “When you’re hurt, then tell her. But don’t act like you don’t love her. I can see that you have that look when you look at her; it’s only then. So warm and loving,” the blond-haired boy says, and Bucky swallows hard.

"Maybe, but I have something to do today,” Bucky says, wanting to turn around, but Steve stops him. “When you go to the party without talking to her, I will tell her that there is nothing about you that she always told me about. And that it’s not worth it to wait for someone like you; there are a lot of boys who would treat her better than you do right now,” your best friend says and strokes your back. You mumble something in your sleep while Bucky looks at you. Then he nods.

"Let's go to my house,” he says, and Steve stands up with you. Bucky swallows hard when he realizes Steve’s words, and when he sees you, his gaze softens.

“Want to carry her? Otherwise, I would do it,” Bucky offers. “It’s oke, but her bag,” Steve answers and points with his head to your bag. Bucky smiles lightly when he sees the bag. You have had that one since the two of you were little kids. Then he throws it over his shoulder and walks next to Steve.

They don’t talk, but Bucky looks almost every second at you, making sure Steve holds you and because he just wants to see you. “Stevie?” You mumble, and Bucky's heart races when he hears your sleepy voice. He adores the one, at least as much as your voice in general. He missed hearing you talk, but he wouldn’t admit it; otherwise, he would feel the same as he did when you moved away.

“I have you, princess,” he mumbles, but Bucky hears it. And he wants to hit Steve right in the face when he calls you ‘princess’ but he knows he has no right to do it.

“Are we at home?” You ask, but Steve shakes his head.

“No, James is here, and we go to his house now,” he tells you, and you nod while you feel the tears again.

You let your best friend carry you to your second home, or it was your second home when you and Bucky were kids, but now you’re not sure about it anymore. “My mom is home,” Bucky says, and you feel a warmth running through his body when you hear his suddenly soft voice.

When he opens the door, the three of you walk inside, and Steve lets you down. “You can go into the living room; I just need to call someone that I have no time for parties right now,” he explains, and you nod while you walk into the living room. Steve follows you. You still know everything in that house, and it feels like nothing has changed except for a scratching tree in the corner of the room and a white fur ball lying on the couch.

“Alpine,” you say softly, and the little white cat lifts her head to look at you. She has steel blue eyes, the same as Bucky's, and she looks exactly like the cat Bucky got on his birthday when he turned eight.

With a few steps, you reach the couch and hold your hand in front of the cat. Alpine sniffs at your hand before she leans against it and lets you scratch her ear. "You are such a sweet little fur ball,” you coo. You turn your head to Steve and point with your head next to you on the couch.

“You can sit here. What did you say that he is so nice now?” You ask, and Steve chuckles lightly. "I told him the truth about your feelings, but I also told him that there are a lot of boys who would treat you like the princess you are,” he explains, and you smile at him.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you turn around and see the face of Bucky’s mother looking at you. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re such a grown and beautiful young lady now,” she says with a huge smile on her lips, and you nod before you stand up and almost run into her arms for a much-needed hug.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper, and she agrees before she lets go and looks at you again.

“I was sure you would be a gorgeous young lady, and you are,” she whispers and then looks at Steve.

“Hello, I’m Steve,” he greets the woman, and she nods before she walks closer to him and hugs him as well.

“James is in his room?” She asks.

“He wanted to call someone because of a party." You shrug and sit down next to Steve. Bucky’s mother takes a seat on the armchair across from you.

“I’m so glad you’re here, that the two of you are here. When you moved away, Bucky wasn’t the same anymore. In the first time, he tried to be as much as he was, but with every day, he turned more into an idiot. I haven’t seen him crying like that when you moved away, and I guess he changed into the one he is to avoid his feelings,” his mom says and sighs quietly.

“I try to talk to him; I miss my little Buck, the one who wanted to marry me when we were young, and we didn't want to wait any longer there,” you chuckle. Steve listens to you and smiles lightly when he sees your chuckle.

Just a few moments later, the brown-haired boy walks downstairs again and comes into the living room. He doesn’t say anything when he takes a seat next to you, so you sit between your two favorite boys. He clears his throat, but then he is quiet again.

“Steve, I’m sure you heard a lot of stories about them; do you want to see the pictures of them? There are some really funny ones; I’m sure you will like them,” Bucky’s mother says and stands up. Steve nods with a wide and mischievous smile.

“Love ya, princess,” he whispers into your ear.

“Love ya too,” you say before he follows the woman out of the room.

Then you’re alone with Bucky, his jaw clenching, and he rubs his sweating hands in his pants. You look at him and see how nervous he is; he isn’t looking at you. “Buck, listen, oke,” you start, but before you can continue, you see tears streaming down his cheeks, and you interrupt yourself.

Suddenly, he stands up before kneeling in front of you, his hands on your thighs as well as his head. You place one of your hands on top of his head and run your fingers through his soft, brown hair. “I’m sorry, I love you,” he whispers against the fabric of your pants. You scratch his head softly and wait until he looks up at you.

After a moment, he lifts his head, and your eyes meet. His tears are wet, and his eyes are red when you wipe his tears away. He breathes deeply and then opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, you can see the tears streaming down his cheeks again. “It’s ok,” you mumble, and you glide your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t want to hurt you, never. I love you so much, but when you moved away-“ he starts, sobbing before he continues to speak. “Everything was so empty, and no matter where I was, we were there together. I missed you so much that I wasn't able to leave my room for weeks. And even so, there is everything that reminds me of you. I’m sorry for being an idiot; I wanted to think about nothing for a few minutes, but I haven’t thought about you then,” he whispers between even more sobs. He let his head fall down on your thighs again.

“You really were an idiot,” you chuckle, and you capture Bucky’s face with your hands so he needs to look at you. “But you’re my idiot,” you mumble before you lean forward and kiss him softly. You're not sure if it’s what he wants, but as soon as your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you closer. You feel the love and happiness, as well as the butterflies in your stomach, when his lips meet yours and his adorable blue eyes look lovely into yours.

“Do you still want to marry me? We can do it; now we are older and can marry,” he whispers against your lips, and you nod.

“I definitely want to, Buck,” you mumble. He smiles at you when you continue talking. “But no other girls anymore, and don’t be jealous about Stevie; he is nice,” you say, laughing, and Bucky nods with a smile before he kisses your forehead.

“No other girls and not jealous of Steve,” he chuckles, and it’s like his mother and your best friend heard you because they walk back into the room and see the two of you smiling at each other.

“Do you want some cake as well?” The woman asks, and you immediately look up at her with a wide smile. “What kind of cake?” You ask, and Bucky laughs when he sees your eyes brighten. “Your favorite,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you push him back to jump to the kitchen.

"Cake, I’m coming,” you say, and the three others look at you while they burst out laughing before they follow you. When you reach the kitchen, you see the big cake on the table, but before you are there to steal it, you feel two strong arms around your waist and pressing against a body. “Do you like Alpine? She looks like my stuffed animal; do you still know it?” He asks, and you nod while you try to reach the table with the cake.

“Do you want me to bring you the cake?” Steve asks with a laugh, and you look at him with your best puppy eyes. "Yes, please,” you say, and he takes the cake but walks away from you, and you hear the two boys laughing. “You’re mean,” you mumble. Bucky kisses your neck, and you feel goosebumps all over your body.

“You’re the most wonderful girl, and I love you, my doll,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you smile widely. “I love you too, Buck, but now give me some cake,” you say, smiling, and he shakes his head, looking at you with adoration and love in his eyes while Steve comes back with cake and places it back on the table.

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jacaeryssworld · 4 months ago

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sea salt and snow

pairing(s): cregan stark x fem!manderly!reader

genre: fluff

word count: no clue, just started writing on here & couldn’t bother to transfer it to a google doc/document

warning(s): arranged marriage, heavy on the childhood friends to lovers trope, cregan being a lovesick fool for reader (as he should!), short but sweet! (lowkey hate this & might rewrite it later)

note(s): i need this man so bad 😫

Your Mother loved to remind you that your blood ran thick with sea salt and sand. How the very turbulent ocean outside the castle walls was apart of your very being. Seeped into your system when you were still just a babe in her womb. She continuously reminded you to be proud of the house you came from, of the surname you carry. And you were, very much. Except that was doing nothing for you at the moment as you shivered and shuttered at the numbing cold Winterfell always had. Being of sea and sand brought you no warmth while in the halls of the most freezing castle you’ve ever been in.

The Stark family was a close friend of yours, the history going back since the establishment of Winterfell. So, it wasn’t anything new—the cold that is. Yet every time you went back, you found yourself chittering in your boots and quivering from the cold. But that was something you needed to get used to as you’d be staying in Winterfell for the foreseeable future.

“You’re practically shaking like a leave, darling,” a deep voice chuckled out, scaring you out of your stupor as you jumped.

“Gods, Cregan! You nearly scared the soul out of me!” You exclaimed, hand over your racing heart as you tried to slow it down from the fright.

Cregan Stark laughed, gently apologizing as he took the hand over your heart up to his lips, placing a barely there kiss on the chilled skin.

“Why don’t we go to somewhere more warmer, my lady” he suggested, wrapping your hand around his bicep, gently dragging you down the corridors to the library where he knew new kindle had been added to the burning fire in the fireplace.

You rolled your eyes in kind, huffing as you spoke: “There is no need. I must get used to the cold anyway if I am to stay here for the remainder of my life”.

Cregan and you had been betrothed since you were both ten and three, being friends way before that, frequently traveling to each other’s home to strengthen the bond. But just recently had it been decided that you were to stay there permanently as the wedding was just a few moon cycles away.

“I would like to marry you before you turn into an icicle. Plus, you’ll have time to get used to the snow and cold over time. You do not need to put yourself through this in order to get a head start. You could possibly get hurt,” Cregan responded, rubbing his thumb on the hand that rested on his bicep.

A small smile crept onto your lips, blushing at the fact that he said he’d like to marry you. “Well,” you started, “we must hurry then. I’m afraid if I stay in this cold any longer I will certainly freeze”.

Cregan grinned widely as he tightened his grip on your hand ever to slightly, chuckling at your words before speeding up his pace.

“We can’t have that now can we?” He mused.

“No, we can’t. Plus, I’d haunt the halls of Winterfell for eternity if I froze to death on your watch”.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, my Lady”.

And with that, a woman from salt and sea felt her entire body warm at the man from snow so carefully guided her into the heated library, love ever present in both of their expressions.

#jacaeryssworld #jacaeryssworld fics #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon fanfic #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark fic #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #fem!manderly!reader #hotd cregan #cregan stark x fem!reader #cregan stark x female reader

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skyrigel · 4 months ago

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“The Great War Part-3”

Part 1 || Part 2 || Benjicot masterlist

Pairing: Benjicot “Davos” blackwood x Bracken!reader

~ When mist of past finally clears up and you are faced with an ineffable truth of life, you reach for your darling husband's hand, surviving the great war [ wc : 4.7k]

๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠ 18 + nsfw, p in v ( rough ), missionary position, breeding kink, blood kink, size kink, fingering, c- word used in sexual context, orgasm denial, first time, love confessions, jealousy, confused feelings, poetic subtexts, bad writing?! Proofread

I might write an epilogue someday but this is it, thankyou everyone for reading and following along, also this is for @ihateitheretaylor for our three years of surviving the great war by reaching for each other, love you to the moon and saturn.

Benji's whole face glittered under the weirwood tree, his hand inevitably touching his heart as he saw you.

Your maiden cloak adored in golden and silver embroidery, house's sigil glistening, a red stallion in golden fields, like the strands of your future husband's hair that were blazing against the sun.

His grin absolutely splited his whole face, lines stretching wide as he gazed at you walking towards him with your brother.

“ Who comes ? ” His smile true to his words,

“ Who comes before the gods ? ”

Aeron paused for a moment before he looked at you, his arms brushing your shoulder as he nodded, a tight smile but a smile indeed.

“ Y/n of House Bracken, comes here to wed. A woman trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of gods. Who comes to claim her ? ”

Benji raised his chin, instantly looking back at you like he couldn't get enough and for a fact—he really couldn't

“ Me, Benjicot Davos blackwood of House blackwood, lord of Raventree halls, I claim her.” He winked at you, “ Who gives her ? ”

Aeron took your hand, his smile genuine when he glanced back at you.

“ Aeron Bracken of House Bracken, Brother of lady y/n, son of Lord Amos Bracken.” He turned to you, blinking back the watery haze, you gulped down the lump in your throat.

“ Lady y/n, Do you take this man ? ”

Your face grew warm, and there were many realisations in life, some slow and crashing as waves, some quick and bold as lightning, when you looked back at the man who was going to be your husband, the man you remembered from a long time ago, a distant memory and sometimes as though it was taken from yet another lifetime— his youthful face, bright eyes, chortling laughter that echoed through your soul. So many years gone in punishing him for something he never did, cursing him as you sleep talked.

So when you saw him, it struck you soft as a breeze, hard as a blow; you would love him so much, perhaps you already love him or perhaps there was still time but it will eventually come your way, and you will love him so deeply, so, so much that the oceans would be jealous, you will love him so blazely that the sun would burn in agony, so luminous that the stars would be envious.

That's the way you would love him, and it wouldn't be faith that will tie your hearts and bind your souls today, it will be a choice, his and yours to not be parted, not even death could do so. You smiled, no longer fighting your blush and letting it crimson your cheeks.

“ I take this man.” You said for the all the gods to know, him, who stands here with his goofy smile, too big for his face, him, who calls you darling while you roll your eyes, he's is the one, you would have him.

Benji reached for your hand, joining your souls together through the tips of his fingers, Aeron backed away as you and Benji kneeled against the old gods, head leaned together.

“ I vow to protect you, to honour and love you, to respect and support you, my darling wife.” no yet, He had chosen you already, a very long time ago.

His thumb smeared across your knuckles, voice dripping with sincerest affection.

“ I vow to stand with you, in life and death and what follows after, to be with you in bad nights and good days.”

Your heart was beating too fast, grasping this moment to be forever your reality, it scared you how you had no control, you chose him because there was nothing else you could do—there was going to be no you without him.

A day ago you hated how much he tormented you, hated how much he ached your heart with his sweet honey like words.

And now you hate him how truly alive he could make you feel, like he has set your soul on fire, his laugh booming across the bloodshed while you're reaching for his hand.

“ I will always love you, my lady. In days when I would forget life, breath and myself— i would remember you like an oath.”

Benji pressed his forehead against yours, taking half your misery—half your pain.

“ From this day...” You said along with him, smile tugging at the corner of your lips,

“ till forever falls apart.” Benji smiled, side glancing Aeron and his glea only rippled more.

“ Can I kiss my bride ? ” He asked you, soft as a whisper and you blinked, hands sweaty in his, entwined for lifetimes to come.

“ You may.” You said, closing your eyes and even then you could feel his giddiness that rushed into you, the press of his lips against yours, it wasn't feral, it wasn't bloody, it was as sweet and as gentle, like the poets would say.

Perhaps it was Aeron's throat that cleared itself so loudly that blinked open your eyes, feeling your knees ache in the tendons.

“ You look so beautiful darling.” Benji winked, helping you get up—his tongue caught between his teeths— removing the husk from your gown.

And just like that, he was your man now.

~~~

The wedding was small but the feast that followed was wild, everyone was drunk and happy, it was truly a blackwood and Bracken wedding, one should have seen the smirk that passed between Bracken's when blackwood's pretty girls started serving wine, pouring up to brims with their sweet sly smiles and curvy beautiful bodies.

And ofcourse it wasn't missed how prideful blackwood's were being with their extraordinary arrangements, nose red and tongue loose with alcohol.

“ Bout' time laddie, bout' time—” One of the blackwood knight's chortled, patting his company with enough force to make his food come back on surface, “—should've seen his face...saw him in between bloody battle and oh lordie— should've seen the little Rat, squeezing between,” He made little vague gestures from his greasy hands, “ like a cunty little —”

“ Oh shut up, will you ! ” the said little rat of his tales snapped back at him, his Bracken mates laughing while he fumed with a red face.

“ Amusing, isn't it ? ” Benji leaned to your ear, making you shiver when his mouth grazed your ear shall, “ My heart, my shine, my darling beloved wife.”

“ Very amusing...” You said, turning to him and his beautiful face, pink on his tips, hair sticking to his forehead and a grin only fools in love had, but their on the corner of his mouth sticked a crumb, you shouldn't, really, but then you saw how Raventree hall's ladies saw him, their lusty gazes and seductive smiles, even now, they would bloom like a flower if his drunk sloppy gaze merely sprinkled by, like many realisations that followed today, this was also one of them, the one that wanted to tear away those prying eyes and keep him all to yourself, to burn those heart that desired for him, to ruin those dreams that they staged, he was yours, your husband, your lord, and you were his, his wife, his lady, and when the great war comes, it will be his hand that you will reach for, only his.

“ Here—” You blushed, “ let me.” You smeared away the crumb with the soles of your fingers, smiling a small, you don't remember watching the sun rise in the long time but if anything, it would be the way Benji smiled in that moment, forever mesmerizing.

As if on cue, your golden moment was ruined when Martha came over, she was daughter of lord in court, it was evident with the silk on her body, and her sweet calculated smile, something only courts knew.

“ It is so gracious to meet you, Lady y/n Bracken—”

“ It's lady Blackwood.” Your fork penetrated deeper into meat, “ Now.” you added with a smile, Martha nodded, her jaw hardening.

“ Ofcourse, Lady blackwood.” she tilted her head, fiddling with the chain on her neck, Benji was watching your sloppily, leaning on your shoulder and despite he was quite heavy, you weren't going to tell him that.

“ Congratulations, It is really credible what you did...to tie the two house together, a duty not anyone could do.” She bit her lower lip, shifting her sharp eyes to Benji who was putting more crumbs on his mouth, looking back at you with his chin raised.

You knew where she was getting at, duty and honour, to rub it on your face that this marriage is loveless, that it's just a duty that would end with two or three babes and forever isolation in chambers, but she didn't knew what you did, she didn't know the love that was swirling, had been, for the longest time, since one of these feasts with slurred laughters and nonsensical conservations where you saw each other.

“ Ben...” You pouted, ignoring her forced flashing of teeths, doing away the crumbs on his mouth while he fancied leaning in to kiss your tips, “ I am tired...can we—”

“ Darlin’ me too, shall we ? ”

It took a lot of nerves to not to burst in laughter the way Benji hurriedly got up, almost knocking his elbow in Aeron's face who sighed, but also smiled when he saw you watching your beloved husband.

You wondered where the wine was gone when he hooked your elbows together, all the while Martha hissed under her breath, haughty faced.

“ I wasn't expecting that...” You huffed, glancing at Benji, he was buzzing in excitement, practically floating mid air.

“ I...Martha was actually my first.” He shaked his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose, all colours drained out of your face, your knuckles clenched to bloodless flesh.

“ You know what I mean ? ” He asked, staggering behind you while you increased your pace, blinking back rapidly.

“ Ofcourse I do.” You snapped, not bothering to keep low in the dark of the tower, footsteps echoing through the night.

“ Okay, right...I wanted you to know—”

“ That you slept with another woman ? ” you turned around to him, his body knocked against you and in some other time, it wouldn't matter much, a forehead bump but he was drunk, you were angry, and times were changing, as both of your bodies tumbled down, he caught you by the waist, shifting you on top of him, a loud thud and soft ‘oof’ and a whimpered groan that was your own.

“ Are you okay, darling wife ? ” You pushed back the hair that crept out of your braid before you looked at him, propped on his elbows rested back, you shifted aside, letting your body fall next to him on the hard cold floor.

“ Yeah...you ? ”

Instead of answering you, Benji snorted first and then an absolute wave enveloped him, he was crackling with laughter, chest shaking as he glanced at you, turning away to clutch at his chest.

“ What's so funny ? ” You raised your brow, he shaked his head, taking the gods name in vain.

“ Oh Darling...” He flipped to your side, face to face as his eyes crinkled, watering at the sides, face flushed with rosiness and devil taking over his mouth. Soft and warm and pink.

“ You,” He whispered to you, taking your chin between your fingers and raising it towards him, “ are all the more breathtaking when you're jealous.” and here it was, the word, the feeling that roared like a monster on loose to destroy anyone who as so looked at Benji, a very feral twisting of heart.

“ No.” You lied, He shaked his head, leaning in, breath sweet and warm, you knew what that mouth was capable of, to kiss him was confetti bursting in your mind.

“ Liar.” He declared, gazing into your eyes and an ineffable pull broke lose, your lashes fluttered and the next moment he was kissing you and you were kissing him back.

The feral beast inside you said, devour him, make him yours, let him forget all the ones that came and gone, let it be you, only you.

You never knew how something could be more precious than air, a stiffled whine escaped your throat as he pulled away, catching a breath, grin dancing around his mouth, teasing you to catch — you weren't the one to turn down mockery, grabbing the side of his face and pulling him to you.

“ Oh my love...” He hummed inside your mouth, battling you for domination, tongue swiping across your lower lip.

He slided his hand in under your thigh, pulling you to his lap, he was dazed and drunk but in that moment, nothing could be sober more, when he picked you up from the floor without breaking a sweat and only sticking his tongue out when you watched him wide eyed.

“ I hate you.” You said, the feeling that clenched inside you was same as that unsettling tug in your navel when you spent your nights dreaming about him, when you touched his bloodied face, when you tasted his blood on your finger tips, it left it's mark, your thighs weak at the sensation that pulled inside your spine.

“ I can drop you.” He swayed your body in his arms, taking the stairs one at a time.

“ You won't.”

He smiled, “ No, I won't.”

Your face grew warm when two servants giggled softly, opening the door of his chambers or now—yours too.

It felt natural to be in his arms and to kiss him, like you had known him and this intimacy from ages ago and it baffled you how you had lived so far without starving to death without him.

“ Are you comfortable or is it just because we are married ? ” He asked, face illuminated by the moonish glow.

“ I..does it matter ? ”

“ Yes darling, it does...I want you to be happy, to be safe with me...I want you to know that we want this together.”

“ I want this.” You told him, not blinking as Benji's smile reached his eyes.

“ I love you.” He kissed your nose tip, pulling back expectantly but you only stared back, your heart heavy in your ribs.

You do, you know it, or well you will, it's going to happen and no matter what, it won't change, but deep inside, you didn't know how to form it in words, to say it and not feel sorry, to say it and erase back the years you gaslighted yourself into hating him.

“ I...” You breathed, and he understood, knew you like he was half your soul, his smile was small but he showed no sadness.

“ You don't have to say it back darling.”

And how could you not say it, the way you knew how much your heart would bleed from his love, flowing down your chambers to dripping through your veins, how much you love him, he was summer to your bleaking heart.

“ If I don't say it back, would you still love me ? ”

“ Darling.” He sat down gently in front of you, stroking your cheek as his gaze dropped to your lips, pulling it back to worship your eyes.

“ If you don't say it back then I will say it again, then we'll be even.” and the smile that tugged on both of your faces was worth every great war.

“ You are my first.” you told him shyly, hoping he understood or you were about to die out of shame.

But Benji just about died, his eyes flickered and raked you in, he had bowed, biting his lower lip while nodding.

“ Okay..okay..right.” He smiled, “ Fuck, I will be gentle baby.” His mouth twitched in a grin.

“ you must've had lot's of experiences.” you laughed, it came little bitter but Benji shaked his head, taking your hands and guiding them to his face, he looked cute, face cupped by your hands, your wedding band shinning.

“ I've slept with women but I never made love to them, it's my first time too.”

“oh.”

You lowered your gaze, Benji's touch was like fire, a wild feral flame erupting around you and you craved him, craved to get burnt by him, He softly raised your chin, and his eyes raised in a question.

“ I am not tired...if you're not.” You added quickly, feeling your nerves snap, were you too desperate, would it be bad if you were ?

Because this was your first time and so was his, making love, yes, to make love with your bloody feral husband, to touch him, to feel him, to have him, to keep him.

The way Benji's brow knitted together had you gasping for breath, you would take his refusal if it were that but you waited for so long, that the possibility of tommorow doesn't amuse you, to wait seemed torment.

“ Is that dress too heavy Darling wife ? ” and damn, you could die like that.

~~~

Those treacherous fingers weaved through the back of your dress, knots opening and with each moment he was closer.

You watched his reflection, he would occasionally glance, his blush breezing on his face as he wouldduck down to place a sloppy kiss wherever he liked, but when he looked up with that blazing look in his eyes, you knew it was done, you gave him a tilt of your head, face mere inches apart.

“ I want you....”

And so it goes, his heavy lidded eyes drank you in, his fingers moving your dress down until it fell down in a puddle of pastry around your ankles.

Benji grabbed your waist, he was going senseless in his brain, he couldn't think anything, his brain was short circuiting at all the things he would do to you.

Your back pressed against the soft silks as he climbed over you, his guard discarded somewhere, his chest bare and gleaming.

You breathed but Benji was breathless, mouth agape at your beauty, slowly his hands roamed around your shoulder, kissing every inch and praying to old gods and new because he didn't deserve you, you were all pretty things, bright and shine and him ?

Blood, chaos and thunder.

“ Oh my...oh darling—” His hands trembled, the need to mark you down like a blood stain and the urge to protect you like a dog.

To carve your pretty body and to bruise you blue and claim you all, it was confusing. And romantic. And very much turning him on.

“ Fuck ! ” He growled, your nipples were hard under his thumb and the pleading look you had in your eyes, he wanted to tease you, to make you beg on your knees and get it what you wanted but he was just a man, wild or lunatic, just a man who loved his wife so much, how could he refuse you anything even if it were the moon, he would steal a dragon and fly so high to give you what you wanted, to make true every wish, every dream you had, to fulfil you completely.

All breath was knocked out of you when Benji lowered his mouth, licking the skin of your breast and looking up for approval.

You whimpered at the sensation that practically had you shivering, your knees weakened as his tongue teased your hardened bud, wet and drooling mouth, placing hot kisses.

“ Please, please...Ben—” you tugged at his hair, he was sucking at plump flesh, his other hand rubbing your thigh, heating your whole body up.

“ What ? ” He said, strangled and needy despite trying to be the one to be incharge.

“ Ben... Please—” you heaved, pulling him to you but he pulled away, looking into you eyes and you saw how bloody bastard he could be sometimes when he wanted to be.

“ Darling...” You pouted, and he was just a man, gone before the words even made it out, his fingers teasing your entrance before he placed a kiss on your heart and took your tits in his mouth, humming like a starved man.

Heaven was an utopia concept that Septa talked about, but really, Septa never had made love because this is what it truly felt like, in his arms, in his bed.

Your moans filled the night as his teeth digged in your flesh, Benji was trying his best, the way he tried to stop kneading your breast too fast but ended up fisting it roughly between his palm, softening the pain with the sweet nothings he whispered.

“ How pretty...how soft..mmmm.” He nuzzled closer, you liked him that way, his hands rough, his words soft.

Your hands inevitably reached down between your legs and you just about felt the slickyness before he grabbed your wrist, pulling it back with a devilish grin.

“ Darling, no.” He kissed your finger tips and smiled, poking his tongue out to lick away the white thick juice that calloused your tip.

Whatever he did was enough to untie the knot in your stomach, your pit lurched like sea waves and wanted to crash the shore so badly that you would die begging him.

“Oh darling, how feral you are ? ” He teased, pinning your wrists above your head, his whole body pressing you down, placing a hard kiss on your mouth, squeezing your lips and sucking them dry.

All the while his knee socket digged between your thighs and like you were born to do it, you started moving along as the pressure built up, sparks flying.

“ c'mon, c'mon...do you want a kiss ? ” His jaw slackened as you grew your pace, hips buckling at the intensity and he was kind of very impressed, enough to smile down at your blue and purple bruising bod, releasing your torment.

His fingers only waited a moment before he was knuckles deep, your breath hitched and moans ribbed apart your throat.

“ Benji, oh lord..ah..mm” you hoped he heard the ‘ I love you's ’ you were chanting for him.

“ You're so wet for me...so wet baby.” His mouth dropped to kiss a mole on your tummy, all the while penetrate his finger deeper and then one became two, immediately having your back arch, hips buckling as two turned to three, digging inside you, huffing when he angled them in a way that had you closing your eyes and lose yourself to him.

“So tight for me darling.” You opened your eyes to find his lips on your ear shell, whispering it down to you and his fist inside you, just basking in your warm tight cunt.

“ Benji... darling...” Your face crumbled as tears rolled down, and a greater woman wouldn't beg but you would do anything to have him take you, anything.

You looked just in time as Benji climbed on top of you, his arm on top your head that propped him up so he didn't crush you down.

His fingers glided back from your folds before something thicker than his finger touched your clit.

“Oh.... dear lord.” your chest raised at the heavy intake of air, but He was massive and hard for you, his shaft angry at the unattention.

“Just the tip darling.” He pecked your swollen lips, a droplet of blood sat atop, curtsy by him that he gladly tasted, “sweet.”

You remembered thinking Benji wasn't a liar but in that fucking moment, he was the biggest liar to ever lie, his length pushing down and getting lost in your folds.

You glanced between you and him and shuddered at the thought of being split open by his cock, half his length shining and struggling to wrap inside you.

“ Fuck—” He cursed, “ Your tight pussy I-isn't letting em' in.”

Your thighs ached as he pried them apart for more access, his face red and breaking sweat. He managed to go ball-deep inside you, proud tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“ Benji...” You whimpered, face blotchy with tears that spilled while he kept telling you, it was just the tip and if anything, saying darling wife after every word.

The feeling of freefall, that comes after flying high and higher and not bothering friction and gravitation that pulls, it was just like that, when Ben looked into your eyes before his first thrust inside you, you were flying in the sky with him.

One thrust — and you were falling, your body wasn't your own and it was shearing, it was gleaful, it was infinite.

Your insides clenched as he pushed more, then more and each time his nerves popped harder on his neck, his eyes clenched closer to heaven but he would open them again, using his free hand that wasn't opening your legs to wipe away the tears that streamed down your face, relishing in your soft moaning that screamed his name.

Four thrust down and his restraints broke the chains, he was no longer in control, pounding inside you and all he could do was keep telling you how good you were.

He was bloody, the way he grabbed your arse cheeks to slam his entire length in, spiralling your whole world, bruising you blue.

“ Darling, so good...so good for me.” just when he pulled out only to thrust back in your swollen cunt again, balls deep in your sweet cunt and liar said just the tip.

“ Just like that...mmm..yeah.” just when you thought you were about to split open, with stars in your eyes.

“ Baby love...I love you...I love you.” and his feral took a peak when he leaned to pin your shoulders down, you were fighting for realease but he kept telling you not yet, not now.

“ Benny please...” You cried, but you can take that, you were being so good, such a nice doll to him.

“ I love you...oh my darling, love you so much...let me fill you with my babes..” He moaned out. “ Darling—” he croaked, thrusting harder inside you, the bed shook with his pounding, his face another blissful sight but even through the daze, he wouldn't stop gawking at you, watching you moan on his cock, all your sweet nothings just for him.

“ please... darling, let me see you carry our baby...”

And you had no say before your insides were filled with his juices, warmness spreading inside and out and everything melted in a slow daze and perhaps that's chaos.

The way you came on his cock, silvery misty substance mixing with his own and he dropped his face next to you, sniffing your sweet sweaty hair and placing a soft kiss.

“ That was...” He trailed, shifting his weight next to you and you felt breath rushing in your chest, “....so good baby.”

“ hmmm...” You closed your eyes letting the moment sink, when his arm came and wrapped around your waist then spooning your whole body.

“ My sweet love.” He said, out of nowhere and time passed, your naked bodies tangled in each other, drifting in a peaceful sleep.

~~~

It was one of those dreams, his face dripping with blood, yours or his, you didn't know but the urge to touch him was forevermore.

But then the reality struck you and with more convincing you opened your eyes to moonlight lighting his whole face.

His nose was nuzzled in the crook of your neck and his innocence brighter in the sky full of stars.

His sweet warm mouth drooling over your chest, a bead of his drool cooling your skin.

And the urge was sudden, like lightening when you smiled at your beloved husband.

“ Benji...” you whispered and he didn't move, sleeping and snoring softly.

“ Ben....” you tried again, ofcourse there was tommorow awaiting, but your heart said speak now.

“ huh.” He sleepily hummed, smearing his cheek on your warm body, smiling dopily like it was a very sweet dream.

You smiled, forever remembering the memory when you reached for his hand, entwinng your fingers together.

“ I love you.” You said, “ I love you so much darling.”

And just like that, you survived the great war.

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