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theonotti · 11 months ago

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SILENT NIGHT | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The ghost of Christmas Eve Past haunts Theo's present, but not because he needs to change. He needs a reminder of who to never become.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo or reader), Domestic Violence (Not with Theo or reader), Hurt/Comfort, angsty, fluffy,

Notes: I'm late, but heres a Christmas one shot for Theo :)

That Final Night | Mio

Christmas Eve: Then

“Teddy? To bed, my love.”

Theo smiled from his hiding spot behind the curtains. In his eight year old mind, there’s no way she could see him. He was invisible. Behind the silky fabric, he ceased to exist. Beyond the darkness between the window and the curtain, Theo could hear the sounds of his mother’s heels tapping against the hardwood. She was close. He could see the outline of her silhouette from the other side of the thin curtain.

“Father Christmas won’t leave any presents if he knows a certain boy is still awake and hiding!” Her honey soaked voice echoed out again. Before Theo even had the chance to process her words, the curtain was ripped away and he was in his mother’s arms. She spun herself around, making Theo fell as if he was flying through the air. His shrieks of laughter bounced off the thinly decorated walls before she slowed to a halt, smiling lovingly at the wavy haired boy.

“Come, love,” She whispered to him. “I have your tea ready.”

Setting him back down to his feet, Cassundra Nott smiled down at her son before leading him out of the sitting room and down the corridor to his bedroom.

Theo didn’t like walking the halls of the mansion, despite his many years of living there. The energy in the air was always so grim, the walls bare and painted a dark grey colour. Theo was convinced that there were demons in the walls, due to the screams he could hear coming from them some nights. His mother assured him time and time again that they were only in his nightmares, but Theo was wise for his mere eight years. The nights he heard the screams being the same nights he would see his father go into the basement of the house as the young lad was ushered quickly to bed was not lost on Theo.

In fact, it only made him wonder if his father was summoning the demons, keeping them there as a way to ensure Theo stayed in line.

There was only one person who brought any slither of warmth under the cold roof of Nott Manor, and it was the woman walking a few paces ahead of him. Her golden blonde curls trailed down her back, her delicate fingers tracing an invisible line into the wall as she led Theo to his bedroom. He looked at her with such incredible awe. Theo didn’t worship any sort of God, because no God could even come close to comparing to the wonder that was Cassundra Nott. If someone told him that she hung the stars and the moon every night, and that the sun only rose because she asked it to, he would’ve easily believed them. There were few people that Theo had in the world. His father’s care for him only extended as far as keeping the Nott legacy going. So that left Theo with three people: Mattheo, Draco, and his mother. But she topped the list. In every circumstance, she topped the list.

His mother opened the door to his bedroom, ushering him inside. The dark green of the walls made the room seem much darker than Theo would like. His father insisted on the colour scheme matching that of Slytherin house, as if it would somehow eliminate the already incredibly low chances of him ending up in another house come time for him to ship off to Hogwarts. His slot in the House of the Cunning and Ambitious was as guaranteed as the snow falling in the winter, or his father downing half a bottle of whiskey before dinner. Theo wished the walls were blue, though he learned the hard way to not let that thought be anything more than a thought.

A steaming mug of tea was sitting on the bedside table, waiting for him as his mother pulled the blankets out for him. Her smile was warm as he walked over to the bed, crawling under the covers and taking the warm mug between his hands. He knew it had Calming Draught in it, as he received this same dose in his tea every Christmas Eve, as well as the evening before his birthday.

Cassundra sat on the edge of the bed as she watched Theo take a long sip from the mug.

“Are you ready for Christmas, love?” She asked gently, raking her fingers through Theo’s hair. As he swallowed the tea, he nodded vigorously.

“I hope Father Christmas got me the broom I asked for!” He exclaimed. “Mattheo let me try his new broom and it was so fast! I bet I could get to Scotland in under five minutes.”

His mother laughed softly before saying, “Under five minutes? That sounds rather fast.”

Theo nodded enthusiastically.

“I could get to Hogwarts faster than the train! I won’t even need to take it! And then I could come visit you every single evening, so you can give me a kiss and a cuddle goodnight.”

If Theo weren’t so young and oblivious, he would’ve noticed the flush that filled his mother’s cheeks, or the tender smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. Or even the sadness that filled her eyes over the idea of him leaving her.

“Well, we have a few years yet before we have to worry about that,” She said delicately. “Maybe if you don’t get a broom this year, you’ll get one the Christmas before Hogwarts?” But all this response does is make Theo groan in displeasure.

“I don’t want to wait two years! I want a broom now!”

His mother smiled at his impatience, hooking her finger underneath his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

“I know you’re excited, lovely boy,” She said in a soft voice. “But I promise you, you’re going to have a good day tomorrow. I’ve made sure to let Father Christmas know how wonderful you’ve been this year.” She scrunched up her nose as she kissed the tip of his. “He doesn’t need to know of the times you were trouble.” She tilted her head as she looked down at him. “Surely he won’t disappoint.”

Theo looked up at his mother. Of course she was right. She was right about everything. And he trusted her more than anyone else to make sure Father Christmas knew what he wanted more than anything for Christmas.

Theo finished the last of his tea, making sure he got every last drop like he always did. When he set the mug down, he smiled up at the beautiful face of his mother, who was already smiling down at him. The potion’s effects were already starting to take hold, the running wheel of his mind slowing to a halt as his eyelids grew droopy. With one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder, Cassundra laid Theo down against his pillow.

“Now,” She said, her voice more stern than normal. “What are we not going to do this year?”

Theo let out a tired sigh.

“I won’t sneak down before morning to see what gifts are left for me.”

His mother nodded once, definitively.

“We don’t need another episode with your father.” In his obliviousness from ignorance and the Calming Drought effects, Theo didn’t notice the disdain in her voice, or the fear that flooded her face. Though he did remember the events of the year prior, the screaming from his father at all hours of the morning, followed by Theo being banished to his room until midday.

“I won’t sneak down again, mamma,” He said in a small voice, a yawn escaping him as his eyes began to droop shut.

Cassundra tucked the blankets in before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead.

“Sleep well, il mio tesoro,” She said in a quiet whisper as the chestnut haired boy had already lost himself to his subconscious. With one last loving look, and a delicate trace down his cheek to ensure he was really sleeping, Cassundra Nott stood up from the bed and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her.

Little did she know that this would be the last time she saw her son like this.

It was only a few hours later that Theo was awoken by none other than his bladder. He squinted his eyes in the dark as he jumped out of bed, all but running from the room as quickly as his still asleep legs could take him. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom that he started to wake up. The clock in the hallway chimed three in the morning, meaning his mother was long asleep. His father had gone out to celebrate the holidays with a few other Death Eaters, and he made sure to tell Cassundra and Theo that it was unlikely he would be home before dinner the next day.

Just one peak.

And then you’ll be back in bed.

No one will ever know.

The logic made sense to him, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him out of the bathroom and down the hall. Walking right passed his bedroom, he went right to the stairs and slowly tiptoed down.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs that the voices registered.

“...wake Theodore, please keep your voice down.”

“How dare you police me in my own home!?”

The slur in his father’s voice was so prominent that he almost didn’t recognize him, though the yelling was a sound the young lad was deeply accustomed to. Theo sank down so he was sitting down on the edge of the step, his hands gripping the wooden poles of the bannister as he watched his mother cower. Standing behind the man of the house was a flash of long, platinum white hair with a cane that was used in this moment to stop him from swaying. Next to Lucius Malfoy was Fenrir Greyback, his arms bare despite the raging cold outside, and Antonin Dolohov, who had a flask to his mouth as he watched Nott Sr. in amusement. All of the men in the living room were inebriated beyond belief.

Cassundra swallowed hard before she spoke again. The fear was so clear cut on her face that Theo wanted to rush to her and cup her cheeks, telling her all would be okay.

“I’m not policing you…” She said in a small voice. “I just think it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m setting up for Theodore, and-”

Her words were lost to the force of Nott Sr.’s hand wrapping around her throat and slamming her against the wall. Her head was unable to bounce forward, but it was evident by the deep grimace on her face how hard it was hit. The reverberation of his mother’s body denting the drywall caused Theo to fall backwards, almost falling down the stairs entirely.

“Are you arguing with me?” Nott Sr.’s voice was so low that Theo almost couldn’t hear it. But he’d learn how to pick out that voice at a very young age. It was how he knew when to go sit quietly in his room with a book, remaining unseen and unheard.

“No!” Cassundra was able to gasp out, her hands trying and failing to pry her husband’s calloused fingers from her throat.

“That sounded like arguing to me, Nott,” Lucius piped in. “Can't let anyone think your wife wears the trousers in the household, can you?”

Theo was not a violent child, but the sound of his best friend’s father egging on the abuse of his mother was filling the eight year old’s chest with a level of anger he had never felt before. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch. He wanted to hit and hit and hit Lucius until his big, ugly nose went flat. But the fear that his mother taught him to have of his father and the other Death Eaters pulled at his muscles, keeping him frozen on the stairs as he watched the scene unfold.

Before Theo had a moment to breathe, a wand appeared in Nott Sr.’s free hand, the tip pressed into his wife’s jugular. Theo could feel the air being ripped out of his lungs as he watched the colour leave Cassundra’s cheeks. Her face was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree beside her. Theo’s face was pressed against the wood, so much so that his head was almost fully squeezing between the poles.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nott Sr. sneered angrily. “Disrespecting me in front of my colleagues.”

“Are you planning to let that slide, Nott?” Fenrir chimed in with a laugh before taking a long swig from a bottle of firewhiskey.

“Maybe I should have your voice?”

His wand didn’t even move, but a spark of light still shot out of the end, and suddenly, Cassundra’s mouth opened and closed, but no words, not even a stammer or faint whisper, came out. Hot tears spilled down Theo’s cheeks and onto his pyjama bottoms, but he didn’t notice as he watched in horror while his mother tried to speak but only air left her mouth.

Please stop.

Please don’t.

I couldn’t handle never hearing her speak again.

Or hearing her sing to me.

Or hearing her say my name.

Theo’s hands gripped the poles so tightly that his knuckles turned a blazing shade of white.

Nott Sr. threw his wife to the ground as Lucius, Fenrir and Antonin laughed in amusement, as if Nott Sr. had told a joke or done something funny. But none of this was funny. Not to Theo, who wanted to run over and protect his mother. Who wanted nothing more than to bring the same sort of pain to his father and friends that they were bringing to the most important person in his life.

“A woman must remember her place,” Nott Sr. continued on, pacing slow circles around his wife while his fellow Death Eater’s watched in belligerent amusement. The slur in his voice would’ve added a sort of facetiousness to his words, but with the way he looked down at the blonde figure he had just thrown to the floor, it only made it more menacing.

“And how will you remind her?” Lucius asked, causing Theo’s father to turn and look at the blonde haired man with a smirk.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

Cassundra attempted to scream with every fibre of her being, veins popping out of her neck and forehead while her skin turned a dark red, but no sound came out at all. Theo felt her pain as if he, too, had his voice taken from him, as if he had been slammed against the wall, as if he had been thrown to the floor.

Nott Sr. turned back to his wife, the smirk fading quickly from his face and replaced with disdain. He raised his wand above his head.

Theo blacked out.

The eight year old’s legged carried him at a speed he didn’t know he could move at, until he was throwing his arms around his mother, guarding her.

“Father, please,” He sobbed into her soft blonde curls as he addressed the presence towering over them. Cassundra wrapped her arms around Theo, noiselessly comforting him as her fingers raked through his hair, her eyes squeezed shut. The room went deadly silent for a brief moment.

“You will learn to speak when you’re bloody spoken to, boy,” Nott Sr. sneered, his voice low and filled with even more anger than before as he grabbed Theo by the back of his shirt and ripped him out of his mother’s arms, tossing him across the room so hard, he slid across the hardwood floor and into the wall. A shadow leered over him as Nott Sr. rounded on Theo, his wand at the ready.

“If you’re so desperate to be a man, then you can handle her punishment then, can’t you?”

The next few moments went by so quickly, yet also as if they were in slow motion.

Nott Sr. raised his hand above his head, the tip of his wand igniting into a bright red colour.

A flash of blonde jumped onto his back, tackling the older man to the ground.

Lucius and Antonin grab Cassundra off Nott Sr. and toss her to the floor once more.

And then, the flash of green.

He didn’t hear his father speak. Hell, he didn’t even see his father get up from the floor. But make no mistake, Theo didn’t miss the older man, with the wild chestnut hair that he did inherit and the menacing look that he did not, pointing his wand at his mother, sending the bright green spell directly into her chest.

She was gone before the scream left Theo’s mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

Theo crawled across the floor, moving his mother’s head from the floor to his lap as he placed his hands on either cheek.

“Mum, please,” He begged, staring into her lifeless eyes as they remained open. “Mamma, wake up. PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“For Merlin’s sake…” His father mumbled before flicking his wand once more. Theo’s voice evaporated off his tongue, but his lips still moved as he soundlessly begged his mother to come back to him. His tears fell onto the bare skin of her shoulder, and he wondered if they would be enough to warm her back to life. When she didn’t stir, Theo broke down entirely, holding her head close to his chest and burying his face in her golden curls as he began to rock back and forth.

“One of the house elves will clean it up,” Nott Sr. said to his friends, as if speaking about a

spilled dinner plate and not the dead body of his wife. “Come, gentlemen. The parlour is where my

reserve is, and I need another glass after that… unfortunate incident.”

And so Nott Sr. left the room, followed by Malfoy, Dolohov and Greyback, leaving his grieving son on the floor, where he stayed for hours until the house elves finally pried the body of Cassundra Nott out of his hands.

The hands that would never get to hug or touch his mother ever again.

Christmas Eve: Now

The sound of a crash echoes throughout the kitchen, followed quickly with a loud groan.

“Sorry, sorry…”

“I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you wake up my wife, I’ll throttle you.”

A slew of drunken laughter fills the kitchen as the three men clamber in through the back door. Draco respectfully picks up the trash can he knocked over under the watchful eye of Theo. Once it’s back in its proper position, Draco gestures towards it proudly, as if he had just done something profound.

“Happy, Nott?”

Theo bobs his head back and forth, pretending to mull this over.

“I’d be happier if you weren’t an idiot.”

Mattheo, who had just taken a large pull from the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand, spits it out all over the refrigerator.

“That’s like asking for snow in the middle of July.”

With a deep scowl on his face, Draco shoves Mattheo into the counter before sneering, “Fuck off, Riddle.”

Mattheo, in his truest form, makes kissy faces at Malfoy, who then proceeds to throw a kitchen roll at his head. Before it can hit the floor, Theo catches it in midair. The other two look at him as if he had just juggled seven kitchen rolls, or caught Baby Jesus himself.

“Alright, alright, let’s move to the parlour before the two of you destroy my kitchen.”

The walk from the kitchen to the parlour is one the three of them have taken on drunken nights like these hundreds of times, yet at this moment, the distance seems to have grown exponentially longer. Mattheo stumbles as he walks, a loud laugh escaping him as he anchors himself with the wall. Theo, in an effort to keep his friend quiet, smacks him upside the head.

“What was that for?” The dark curly haired man shouts, not without an undercurrent of laughter in his tone.

“For being a git,” Theo hisses. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

It’s too late though.

Over the sound of Draco’s giggles, Theo can make out the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Theo?”

His heart stops at the sight of you on the landing, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as they jump between him and his friends. He smiles sheepishly at you.

“Did we wake you, cara mia?”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the steps. He sucks in a large gulp of oxygen as he takes in the sight of you. Even in your pyjamas, he finds the sight of you simply breathtaking. The sleep stains on your face and the way your eyes droop makes his heart race as if he was just seeing you for the first time. With a slight sway in his step, his feet carry him towards your magnetic pull, his hands gently gripping your waist.

“You can tell me if we woke you,” He says in a gentle voice, an undercurrent of guilt filling his tone. But you shake your head again as you bring your hands to the tops of his shoulders, running your fingers along the curves of his muscles to the dip of his neck.

“I woke up a couple of minutes before I heard you come inside, I promise.”

He doesn’t believe you, but his blood shot eyes are so enraptured by the beauty that is your face that he doesn’t care. His hands move up to cradle your cheeks before he brings his face to yours, peppering your skin with kisses. Your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your temples, your eyelids. Every piece of you that he can reach gets a kiss. His fingertips tease weave into your hair as you place your hands on his clavicle, laughing as he kisses you.

From behind him, Mattheo and Draco both make fake retching noises.

“I’ve never met a more disgusting couple,” Malfoy whines.

“Truly the worst to be around,” Riddle adds in agreement.

“Oh, piss off to the parlour, you two,” Theo barks as he pulls his mouth away from your face. He doesn’t turn to make sure they leave, trusting the sound of their fading footsteps down the hall. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks delicately.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” He says before gently kissing your mouth. You hum contently as the kiss lasts a few more seconds.

“Happy Christmas, Theo.”

The sight of you smiling up at him makes his stomach flip. He finds himself wondering how he got so lucky, finding you? From the moment you walked into his life that fateful day at Hogwarts, his life turned into a sort of dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. And it was made even better when you had married him.

Even after all this time, he can’t get enough of you.

“Get some sleep,” He says gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep the boys quiet.”

“Please,” You say, your voice still husky from just having woken up. “And please tell Mattheo that if he throws up on the carpet again, it’ll be him cleaning it up, not the house elves.”

Theo lets out a hearty, full laugh. It’s something his life is filled with a lot of these days. With his friends and you by his side, sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that it wasn’t always like this.

“I love you with my entire heart,” He slurs, gently kissing you again. “Please never forget that.”

You laugh softly again, the sound making Theo feel lightheaded. Or is it the alcohol? No, it’s definitely the sound of your laugh.

“I love you too, Drunky,” You tease him. “Please make sure you come to bed. Don’t fall asleep in the parlour.” He nods, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Yes, cara mia.”

You give him one last kiss to the cheek before you turn and make your way back upstairs. Theo’s eyes watch you the entire way, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you disappear into the hallway. It isn’t until he hears the creaky bedroom door close that he finally turns and starts walking towards the parlour to join his mates.

As he walks down the hall, one of the pictures out of the corner of his eye stops him. Slowly, he turns, the amusement leaving his face as his eyes fall on that one painting.

His mother smiles down at him as she sits in a rocking chair. Behind her is a dark space where his father had been, up until a night of grief and alcohol caused Theo to direct a spell towards the fake personification, and subsequently led to the destruction of all paintings of his father in the house. Though he had the frame replaced, the damage remains.

His eyes trace the trail of golden curls that flow down her shoulders and upper torso. He can still remember how soft the strands felt when she’d kiss him goodnight and they’d brush along his cheek.

“Please tell me I’m not like him,” He begs her, his voice suddenly small. “Please tell me I’ve made you proud.”

She smiles tenderly down at him, his heart feeling ready to burst.

“Oh, il mio tesoro,” She says softly as his eyes flutter shut. “You're ten times the man he’d ever be. And I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried.”

Theo smiles widely, tears escaping through his shut eyelids.

Bliss.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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yuumcbr · 3 months ago

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A human's curiosity for an unknown god

Okay, this was in my notes and I didn't know whether to post it or not.

This is the deity AU by @ceruleancattail, I wrote this based on their amazing stories.

I think Leona might have become a bit OC, there's a POV switch.

You are a History student and recently your class started studying Greek history. One of your teachers decided to give some classes about the history of some gods and asked you to choose one of them and do a seminar.

In your research you found something on an internet wiki about Falena, the God of the Sun. In Greek culture, he was as famous as the god Neige and the god Cheka.

But what you found on the wiki caught your attention, it was a god you had never heard of, God Leona, the younger brother of the god of the Sun.

You clicked to see if you could find more about him and discovered that Leona was known as the God of the Moon. You found it interesting, this would mean that Leona and Falena looked after opposite areas of the world.

However, unlike what you imagined, Leona was considered a bad god who haunted humans by bringing night.

I mean, back then it was normal to think that night was something bad, since it was dark and cold (and since candles were a luxury item and there was no electricity, it must have been a little scary).

But in a few wikis on the internet there was information about how Falena loved her little brother and that the god Cheka idolized him above all else.

Cheka might be known as the God of innocence and childhood, but you were sure that Falena would push him away if the God Leona was really bad company.

Maybe, just maybe, the information was never complete (a plot hole?).

After much, much research and your interest in this mysterious god grew, you decided that he would be the subject of your college research.

Your classmates said that they would research more well-known Gods and that you should do the same, but your interest in the unknown always spoke louder.

As time went by and the deadline for your assignment approached, you noticed that it was getting harder and harder to find anything about this god, and sometimes you even talked in front of the computer, begging for information.

"Come on Leona, show up!" or "Why is it so hard to find anything about you, Leona?"

Over time, you found one or two books with some superficial information, and when that happened, you said it was your lucky day. Tired of always searching the same internet and all the books in the college library, you decided to abandon this method and look elsewhere, and what better place would there be than in the country of the ancient religion itself.

With a long weekend coming up, you looked for a temple of Leona, that way you could research it more in depth.

No matter how much you looked for any temple, nothing appeared. So you decided to go to a city where you would find a temple of Falena and Cheka, hoping to find a temple of Leona nearby.

You bought your ticket, rented a hotel and calmly waited for the big day.

The more followers a god has, the more power he has to use magic and perform miracles.

Just the fact that a human visits your temple or a place built to honor you is enough for him to be able to cure incurable diseases.

Constant prayer was even better, since this would signify faith in a god. It would give you the ability to move mountains.

However, if you wished to never meet this god or for another god to protect you from him, the god would begin to have a negative energy, meaning that if this god used magic, bad things would happen.

Leona thought that when he became known as the god of the moon, he would be as worshiped as his brother. However, several humans distorted his story to attract more followers to Falena.

And little by little, all who followed him were condemned and he could do nothing about it, since his magic was too negative to help them and this would only make the situation worse.

After the anger of having those who trusted him leave and having his feelings shattered. He gave up on ever having a follower again.

Centuries passed and several gods lost their followers to time and countless were resurrected.

No matter how many gods were forgotten, there was always someone who quoted them to say something and that was enough for their legacy to continue existing.

Leona had almost no moments where his legacy was remembered and of those few moments, most described him as a bad and bitter god.

He gave up on seeing what happened in the human world, just lying down and relaxing for eternity.

Sometimes he felt his chest tighten with something bad or a short feeling of goodness and he knew it was just another one of the few moments when someone remembered him.

Leona ignored it, never wanting to see what they talked about behind his back.

One day when Leona was playing chess alone, that distressing feeling appeared again and it made him angry.

"Tch, humans should learn to think a little with their heads instead of believing everything they see."

And as if this human was able to hear him, the feeling gradually improved, bringing a small joy.

This made Leona stop for a moment, holding a pawn in her hand and thinking deeply.

A ghost of a smile appeared when she understood, but she doesn't think it's worth checking, his game is more interesting than a short-lived thought.

However, the feeling lasted a few more hours before it went away.

The next day, Leona had dinner with Falena, Cheka and his sister-in-law at Falena's request.

"So Leona, what good have you been up to?"

His sister-in-law asked, trying to start a conversation.

Playing with the vegetables on his plate, the Moon God stared at his sister-in-law.

"Nothing much, just the same as always."

"Oh mom, yesterday there was a soul researching Unca!"

Cheka said excitedly, the god of innocence and childhood was always happy when a human was nice to his uncle.

Leona looked at his nephew, maybe yesterday's soul found him while researching about Cheka or his brother.

"Oh that's nice! It's not every day we get good news like this, why don't we celebrate?"

His brother said excitedly. He knows in reality they just want him to get out and interact with other gods.

"No, I'll pass. It would be ridiculous to celebrate every time someone remembers the existence of a god."

"Oh come on Leona, it's been a while since you've accompanied us to a party"

Falena insisted Leona highly doubts that the other gods would come anyway, he doesn't want to hear Ruggie laugh at the news of a party because of a human quote.

Dinner was over and before Leona could reach his resting place, his previous feelings returned.

Now there were more people talking about him, some curious and others more disinterested.

The lion-like god stopped walking, the conflicting thoughts of whether to go look at these humans or not fighting among themselves.

Apparently, some of these humans didn't seem very friendly towards him.

It would be a matter of time before that would disappear and he would fall into oblivion again.

However, contrary to Leona's thoughts, day after day, a human would return to want to know more about him.

He supposed that on the days when there were more people thinking about him, it was because the human he was thinking about frequently commented on his discoveries with his friends.

Not that he would admit it, but he was starting to get scared that the calming feeling in his chest would stop, that this curious mortal soul would stop being so interested in him.

What made him finally look at this human and give up the fear of oblivion was a prayer.

"Come on Leona, show yourself."

It wasn't a prayer, but it would qualify as one.

Leona was dozing off at the moment you made this unconscious prayer, the lion's eyes opened with the wave of power that ran through his body. Sitting up from where he was lying, Leona looked at his hands and gave a heartfelt laugh.

"How far will humans go for their curiosity?"

Opening a kind of magic bubble, he saw you for the first time.

You were sitting on a chair looking at a thin illuminated box, with some attention the god noticed that it was some kind of research.

He remembers Cheka mentioning long ago about thin boxes that work much like the magic bubble of gods, but less powerful.

He saw you put your head on the table.

"Why can't I find anything, not a single piece of additional information."

When you turned your gaze to the strange box, he saw the information about him disappear and go to Falena.

Your lips pursed in disgust at this action. In retaliation, you sighed and went back to thinking about him.

'Why is it so difficult to find anything about Leona? The few mentions about him oscillate between saying that he was good and evil.'

"Maybe if I…." The human in front of her began to research his temples. Leona doubted that he would find any that were still standing.

All of his temples (which weren't many) were destroyed a long time ago.

The days went by and your improvised requests to know more about him gradually increased your power. You didn't do it on purpose, you just talked to yourself, sometimes and it resulted in a kind of prayer, but it boosted your ego anyway.

He watched your day to day life and saw how you researched countless gods, but you didn't follow any of them.

Apparently you studied in a place that taught about various gods, religions and the history of the world. Interesting to say the least, seeing so many humans willing to learn about different gods and have an open mind to understand the past and present.

Leona liked to help you sometimes. Everything he did you would consider a stroke of luck. For your colleagues, you definitely had a guardian angel.

Leona always laughed when someone said that. You literally had a god who did many things for you. But in return, he always waited for her to seek him out.

It's fair, isn't it? Herbivore!

He helps you in your daily life and in return you ask to know more about him and feed his power.

In case you focused on something else or had another study you wanted to do for fun, Leona would give you some time.

However, if you dared to take too long to go back to researching about him, certain incidents would get in your way and lead you to the book with something about him that was closest.

Nothing too bad, just the wind blowing all your research away, or a heavy rain that would make you go back to the library to avoid getting wet.

When Leona noticed that you were looking for a temple of his near one of Falena or Cheka on the day I was free. He used his magic to change the research on your weird glowing box that you called PC and showed a temple of Farena and Cheka that there was one of his fallen temples nearby.

And maybe some other information that would make you go to him.

Seeing you excited about the trip and hoping that you would find something about Leona only fueled his arrogance.

Sometimes he liked to think of you as a follower and how everyone would react when they saw that someone believed in him again.

"Leona, there better be something about you in this place or I'll strangle you!"

A smile appeared on the lion's face, it was amusing to see a weak and defenseless human like you irritated when you didn't find anything new about him.

"Don't worry Herbivore, you'll find much more than just information!"

English is not my first language, I used Google Translate.

I fixed some mistakes, but there must still be one or two left, sorry about that.

Thanks for reading this far, feel free to say something [I love to talk (◇w◇)].

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marvelstoriesepic · 1 month ago

Text

Angstober (day 17)

Pairing: Endgame!Bucky x Reader

Prompt: “Shhh…”

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: allusions to deep depression; very slight mention of suicidal thoughts; mentions of an eating disorder (neglecting food due to mental health problems); sad!Reader; sad and desperate!Bucky

Author's note: I'm so late, so sorry!! Actually planned on ending this way more angsty but I just couldn’t. Hope you still like it!

Angstober Masterlist

Not that you’re counting, but it has been 14 nights now. Two weeks. Nearly 340 hours since Bucky returned. He came back, along with everyone else who had vanished for five long years. But nothing else seemed nearly as significant as the feeling of seeing him again - the man you loved before the blip, during the blip, and thereafter.

Obviously, this was supposed to be a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. And it was for a moment. But you never felt the weight fall off you, that great release where all your problems just go away and nothing is left but love, relief, lightness - the kind of peace you can finally sink into.

But peace is far from what you feel.

You carry something in your gut; a stone lodged deep, heavy, and smooth to the touch but sharp on impact, that pushes your insides down and twists the knots in your belly into nausea. It’s guilt. So thick and visceral, it hurts, your body trying to reject it, to shake it, but you can’t breathe it away.

Because it’s also the 14th night of you leaving the warm and cozy embrace of two arms - one flesh, one metal - and the feeling of a chest pressed against your body just to sit out on the balcony, the exact same you spent ceaseless and lonely nights on when the world had emptied itself of Bucky Barnes.

Back when this place was only yours for the better part of the blip. With an old armchair placed to overlook the stars and form changing moon blinking at you from the blackness overhead. As if each of those tiny bright dots stood for something specific.

Bucky is asleep inside the bedroom, you’re supposed to be in right now. Wrapped safely in his arms, surrounded by the comfort of having him back. But the truth is, this comfort you should feel suffocates you.

You’re frozen. Stuck between two worlds. The one where you lost him, where you had to endure five long years without him, and the one where he returned as though no time had passed at all.

Five years living without him just for him to return to earth within the blink of an eye as if it was nothing. As if the time spent alone wasn’t agony in the worst sense of the word. As if your suffering didn’t even happen and everything just went back to normal in seconds.

You don’t know how to react. You don’t know how to be normal again. How can you just slip back into a love that feels like it was frozen in time for him but battered and painful for you?

It hasn’t been easy for anyone, you’re aware of that. Disappearing or not. Suddenly re-entering a world that had moved on without you, a world you never knew you even left, is a scary thought. But, honestly, it’s so much worse for Bucky. Your stomach, again, churns in pain.

Bucky has already lost so much of his life, trapped in decades he was never meant to live, a ghost haunting the wrong era. The world keeps slipping through his fingers, time moving around him while he’s frozen in place. Literally even. And now there goes another five years.

But you just can’t turn your head off. And you hate yourself for it.

The truth is, you’re not the same person you were when you met Bucky, started dating him - the one he fell in love with. A bright spirit, an effervescent soul, full of light, energy, softness, with a laugh that was infectious. That version of you is gone, taken by the same breeze that took Bucky years ago. What’s left was a hollow shell, lost in the grief of your greatest love story.

Time wore you down, erode pieces of you that you didn’t even realize were fading away until there was hardly anything left. Just bare bones of who you once were - a thin foundation, fragile, with crumbs already falling to your darkest depths, ready to be swept away for good.

How can you possibly go back to the person Bucky expects you to be? How can you pretend to be the version of yourself he fell in love with when it doesn’t exist anymore? When what’s left of her is irredeemable, too far gone to be resurrected?

You’re certain you’ll only end up disappointing him. If you haven’t already.

Fourteen nights you’ve been out here, on this balcony, sitting in that chair, wrapped in the dark, keeping yourself apart from him when you know you should be beside him. When all you ever wanted was to be beside him again.

Thirteen of those nights, Bucky has noticed your absence. The first night he found you out here, sitting in silence, you nearly snapped at him, frustration and confusion at the way you feel bubbling up so fiercely, you didn’t know how to contain it.

You told him to leave you alone. Insisted on it for so long until he finally, reluctantly relented, slowly retreating back inside with a tremble in his breath and clenched fingers. You knew he would respect your request. You also found out that he didn’t sleep a wink that night, since you didn’t come back to bed, wearing circles under his eyes that matched yours as he made you some breakfast in the morning you barely ended up stomaching.

Since then, you haven’t asked him to leave. Though you don’t really engage him in conversation either, only letting him linger. His presence is gentle, never pressing, always so patient, but it doesn’t make it easier. If only, it worsens the guilt, its fingers tightening around your chest, digging into your skin painfully. You don’t know how to let him back in, not when you’re still so tangled up in the person you’ve become - someone so worn-down, you don’t recognize yourself anymore, afraid to be confronted with the harrowing reality by looking in a mirror.

And every night, you wonder, silently asking the night sky, how much longer it’ll be before he realizes that the person he loves is someone he lost.

You’re waiting. Waiting for him to notice that this new version of you isn’t enough.

Every time, Bucky comes out to you, bringing you something - blankets, jackets, his hoodies, a cup of tea still steaming in his hands, or thick socks to warm your feet. He gets you all the things you never thought to grab in your rush to escape to the balcony, to get lost in the night air that bites into your skin but usually feels oddly comforting in its coldness. The chill always manages to give you a small sting of reality.

You never make the first move to wrap the blankets around yourself or pull any of the clothing items on, so Bucky usually does it for you. And he’s nothing but kind. Patient and soft in ways that almost hurt to witness. It’s in his eyes, in the way he watches you, never pushing too hard, never demanding more than you can give.

But his worry is etched into every corner of him like he is carrying it in his very bones. It’s heavy on his brows, weighing them down in a furrow that never seems to ease, lips pressed into a slight frown that tugs at the corners even when he tries to soothe it out.

It’s in the way his hands twitch, as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and pull you close, but stops himself because he’s unsure if you want him to. He’s constantly walking that fine line, balancing between the space you seem to want and the need to be there, to comfort you, troubled with his own helplessness.

It’s in every considerate gesture, every thoughtful thing he does to make sure you’re okay, or at least giving you a sense of solace.

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to really talk to him. To explain what’s going on in your mind. To voice the fear that now lives there and which places it travels and where it settles down, lodging itself deep into your conscience, roots spreading and festering.

There’s no way to explain what drives you out here night after night, sitting in the darkness while your returned love waits for you inside.

It’s not that you don’t want to. God, you want to more than anything. But the words just won’t come, not making it past the lump in your throat. You’re trapped in a loop of thoughts; confusion, and guilt guiding them to twirl in your head like an indecipherable storm.

How do you even begin to explain that the person he’s so worried about isn’t really there anymore; that you’re afraid you’ve changed too much; that you’re not sure how to go back to the way things were, or if you even can? So while you remain silent, your mind races and your heart aches with the weight of everything you can’t say.

There are so many ghosts in his life and you don’t want to count yourself as another. But you don’t have it in you to do something about it.

As expected, the door to the balcony opens, quietly, slowly. It gets shorter, you notice. The time it takes him to realize you’re gone. As if he instinctively wakes up the second you leave his embrace. As if he barely has to stir to know you’re missing, to feel the cold, empty space where your warmth should be.

You wish he had given you just a little more time. Woke up just a little later. Nausea pools in your gut.

“Sweetheart.”

You pick up his whisper. You intended to ignore it, just as you had intended to ignore the quiet shuffle of his steps, the way he appeared in your peripherals like he always does. But the way his voice reflects so much of a fragility you can’t and don’t want to describe, your head lifts almost on autopilot, responding to him before your mind can even catch up.

He’s crouching down to your level in front of the chair you’re perched on, carefully lowering himself to your eye level. You hadn’t even acknowledged the bowl of pasta he brought until he set it down on the small table next to you, food you hadn’t even glanced at all day. As well as the blanket draped over his forearm he now deliberately wraps you up in. His hands linger on your arms longer than needed until he almost reluctantly pulls away.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you. Not for a second. Gaze so intense and solid, it undoes you. They’re filled with everything you try to run from, everything you try to bury deep inside yourself, everything you try to hide from.

You avert your eyes at the new wave of pain that tears right through your chest, intended to knock you off that chair, perhaps even off that balcony. Your silence is wearing on him and you know. You know that his brows are creased in worry, that his hands are trembling as they grab onto his knees to prevent himself from reaching out to you because he thinks that’s not what you want. That his touch is unwanted. His lips are pressed together as if holding back the flood of words he’s too afraid to say out loud.

Still, you don’t open your mouth. You don’t move closer to him to feel some of his warmth. You don’t look at him. All you do is let him down, night after night, as he watches you drift further away.

From yourself.

From him.

“Please eat something, love.”

His pleading voice again reaches you with the force of a knife, thrown straight to your heart, tearing through the blanket, your thin clothes, your skin, to embed itself into the organ that once held something so precious. A love so fierce, not only for the man in front of you but for the woman he fell for. For the woman that’s now lost in a body filled with coldness.

“Not hungry.” The words fall flat from your lips, monotone, your voice as hollow as you feel inside. There’s no weight behind them, no energy. They’re the same words you’ve been giving him all day, all week - really, for two weeks straight.

Actually, you haven’t been hungry in what feels like forever. The idea of eating, of caring for your body, feels so distant, so unimportant, perhaps even ludicrous, that you’ve stopped thinking about it entirely. Your stomach knots itself in protest but the thought of offering sustenance to your weary body pales in significance amidst whatever storm is brewing inside your mind.

Bucky never relents. Never gives up. Never stops trying.

But it’s heavy on him.

The pained sigh that ripples through his body, drags his shoulders down, his entire frame. His desperation is so evident, it’s standing out like a light that wants the attention of the darkness around you. His pain almost echoes like a sound, ringing in your ears.

He bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

Another stab. Another twist of the knife, that never really leaves your body anymore. It’s always sharp. Always intense. Always piercing. Because it never ceases to hurt when Bucky is in pain.

And he’s in pain because of you.

It’s always because of you.

His despair now is an extension of the love that triumphed against odds, yet now feels so misplaced, so undeserving in the wreckage that was left behind.

Every line of his body screams misery and it’s so unlike Bucky to carry it so openly. He’s not able to stop his hands from shaking, even though he’s clenching them into fists that leave his skin white. He’s not able to ease the tension in his jaw, the way his breath catches as though he’s holding back more words, more pleas, more desperation.

You know it’s your fault. You know this is a love he still holds for a person that doesn’t deserve it anymore. He holds on so tight. So fierce. And that’s what hurts the most.

A new sensation wells up, one you had consciously buried for the past 14 nights. One you hadn’t let yourself feel every time you got lost out here. It grips your throat, wraps itself around it, and squeezes, cutting off the flow of air. It’s choking you, as if in triumph, confronting the tidal surges of emotion you’ve been holding back for so long. It stings behind your eyes, making them swell and burn as tears form faster than you can stop them.

The sob that forms in your belly takes shape in a revolting way and you can’t grasp it properly.

So, when it finally escapes, it’s heart-wrenching. The sound rips from your chest violently and guttural, tearing through your lips before you can do anything to keep it inside. Your hand flies to your mouth, desperate to stifle it, but it’s useless.

Bucky’s head snaps up with so much vigor, and he stumbles in his rush to reach you, arms shooting up, eyes wide with alarm. His hands move toward you without hesitation, disregarding the fragile boundaries you had set, the cautious distance he believed you’d wanted.

You’re shaking, shoulders trembling with the power of the cries that rack through your body and he pulls you against him.

He cradles your head against his chest, his other arm pulling you closer, closer, closer. His grip is so full of anguish, holding onto you like his very life depends on it, his warmth fighting against the chill that’s been living inside you for such a long time.

Your sobs come harder, sounds muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. Bucky tries to hold you tighter, letting you crumble against him.

Minutes stretch out and your cries don’t let up. Each breath you take is painful, rough, and with every shudder that convulses your body, Bucky grasps you firmer.

“Shhh… it’s okay, baby, I got you.” His voice sounds so soft but frail, hoarse with the effort of keeping himself composed. He keeps whispering, though his words tremble on his lips as if he’s battling the same ache that’s threatening to break him apart all the same. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath against your skin, shaky and uneven, trying so hard to be the anchor you need.

“Shhh…” he breathes again, but there are tears in his tone. He’s holding on so solidly, gripping you as if letting go would mean losing you entirely.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, the words tumbling out over and over because it’s all your scrambled mind manages. It’s the only thing that feels true in the mess of your awareness. The silence, the distance, the weight you’ve placed on him, on his shoulders, which should be free from burden after the hell he’s been through. He’s only just come back from five years of being lost to the world, and now you’re drowning him in your own grief. And that makes your tears come without control, the guilt crushing.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob again, the only thing you can offer. An apology isn’t enough but it’s all you have. Because you don’t know if you’re supposed to hold onto the hope that maybe, one day, he’ll forgive you for being too much, for not being who he needs anymore.

Bucky shakes his head against yours, strong, fast; his breath broken. “No,” he breathes, rough and thick. “No, baby, don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to drown out his voice. He’s too nice. Too sweet. Too forgiving. Too patient. Too Bucky.

Shaking your head, you grip onto him. “You should leave me.” It’s louder than anything you’ve said the whole night. It’s more resolute. It sounds more like you, but it still doesn’t seem to come from you. Because never in seven years did you believe those words would ever make it past your lips. Would ever even be formed in your mind.

Bucky pulls back. Not harshly, but urgently, in a panic, determined. His hands cradle your face and he only moves his head away a little to get a better look at you. His eyes, wet and glassy, lock onto yours, filled with pain so stabbing it matches your own. But there is a resolution in his eyes, a firmness in the small glimmer of blue.

He shakes his head as if something is breaking in him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that,” he whispers, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheeks that keep rolling down even as his own spill over. His touch is so gentle, so tender, so loving and you feel the guilt that settled deep inside you in a war with the longing you had felt for so long. The longing to feel his touch in a way that always knocked the breath straight out of your lungs. The longing to have his eyes sear right through you as if you’re the only thing in the world that holds worth.

“This isn’t your fault,” he continues. “None of this is your fault, Y/n! Alright? Nothing you could do would make me leave you. Hear me when I say this, my love. Hear me when I say that I'm here. And I'll stay.”

A sad, wobbly smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “There’s no getting rid of me, sweetheart. Nothing you could do would ever scare me away.”

Something cracks open inside you. His words, his touch, his gaze, everything is so full of love. And even if it’s just a little, the compressing weight of guilt loosens. It will take many more nights for it to completely leave you but Bucky will walk this road with you. You’re sure; because in his eyes, the way he holds you against him, you finally see that he’s not asking for the person you used to be. He’s asking for you, as you are, as you’ve become, broken pieces and all.

He’s still loving you with a depth your guilt could never reach.

#angstober2024 #angstober 2024 #day 17 #marvel mcu #marvel bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes

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syuga-s · 8 months ago

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when i'm quiet on the other side, know that i'm loving you

w.c. around 12k 🤭 pairing. Namjoon x female!reader (also Jungkook & reader used to be together) genre. Smut. friends to lovers-ish, pwp, angst (bc it wouldn't be me if there wasn't angst lmao), more pwp, AND FLUFF OFC a/n. NSFW MDNI !!! curse words, alcohol mention, sexual content (fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, oral m&f!receiving, creampie) ENJOY, let me know if I missed anything okay? <3

You couldn’t help but wonder how different things might have been if you had made a different choice that night so many months ago.

“Did you go out tonight?”

“I didn’t, you?”

“Nah, it’s way too cold tonight, lol,” “I want us to go for a drink though”

“Last week was way colder than tonight lmao”, “when?”

“Tomorrow, is that okay?”

“Yeah tomorrow works, I’m free after 5”

“Pick you up at 7 then.”

Seven moons waxed and waned, each night bearing the weight of a silent longing that lingered in the spaces between heartbeats. In the quiet of those months, the echoes of your last conversation with Jungkook reverberated like whispered secrets carried on the wind, haunting yet distant. Despite growing even closer with Namjoon, part of you remained tethered to the memories of what could have been.

You didn’t remember how this started. Until you honestly stopped to think about it, that is.

You met Namjoon through some mutual friends. Every time you went out with them, he seemed to be there. At first, you didn’t think much of him. He was a cool guy, and all your friends were in love with him, but to you, he was just Namjoon.

Your heart was set on someone else, that being one of the main reasons for your way of thinking.

You thought that Jungkook was finally out of your life. After all those months where he kept you hoping that you’d be together, you opened your eyes and understood that being with him was taking you nowhere.

It wasn’t after two years of being on and off with Jungkook that this mess started to happen. But this isn’t about him anymore. It’s what has been happening ever since.

Several months passed, and you had a trip coming up to Barcelona. Not even a day passed when you found out Namjoon and another one of your mutual friends were in the exact same city as you, at the same time.

You were with some of your college friends. You’d been here for about two days, and all your expectations from this week were below average—until that text came to you.

“I want to see you.”

As Namjoon’s text message flashed on your phone screen, a wave of mixed emotions coursed through you. Memories of seeing him at mutual gatherings, his magnetic charisma, and the undeniable chemistry you both shared suddenly flooded your mind. You couldn’t deny the thrill that his message brought. So, you agreed to meet, not really knowing what to expect.

That night in Barcelona, you and Namjoon decided to explore the city’s vibrant nightlife. The streets were alive with the energy of locals and tourists alike, and the possibilities seemed endless. As you walked through the illuminated streets, the conversation flowed effortlessly.

Namjoon turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. “Barcelona sure knows how to stay alive at night, right?”

You nodded, taking in the enchanting atmosphere. “It does, another city that never sleeps.”

That particular night in Barcelona, you and Namjoon didn’t dwell on the complexities of your dynamic. Instead, you focused on the here and now, indulging in the city’s vibrant nightlife. The streets were alive with the pulsating rhythms of music, and the possibilities for adventure seemed endless.

As you hopped from one lively club to another, the music enveloped you, and you both let loose. You danced together, swaying to the intoxicating beats with occasional laughter and shared glances that needed no words. Namjoon’s occasional hand on your waist or his deep voice softly spoken into your ear amidst the music created a sense of electric chemistry.

In the middle of it all, you reached a state of drunken bliss where the world seemed to blur, and nothing else mattered but the man in front of you. The two of you laughed uncontrollably at inside jokes that would be etched in your mind forever.

It was a night of liberation. The beauty of Barcelona’s nightlife and the intoxication of the moment allowed you to escape into a realm of pure joy.

As the night peaked, the connection between you and Namjoon became more intimate. The night transitioned seamlessly from the vibrant energy of the city to the warmth and comfort of Namjoon’s room.

As you stood on the balcony of Namjoon’s room, overlooking the twinkling city lights below, you felt the warmth of his body radiating towards you. You leaned back against the railing, your heart pounding as you looked up at him. He was so close, yet so far away.

Namjoon’s gaze locked onto you, and he could see the desire burning within your eyes. He felt his own heart quicken, his breath hitching in his throat as he moved closer to you. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Namjoon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, bodies pressed together in a dance as old as time.

As you broke apart, gasping for breath, Namjoon trailed his fingers down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and he knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, eyes shining with desire. “Yes,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you for the first time. You couldn’t help but moan softly, your body trembling with desire.

He pulled away from the kiss, his breath coming in short gasps. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice filled with both awe and desperation.

He guided you back to his bed. You looked up at him through hooded eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. “Please,” you begged in a soft voice. “I need you.”

That was all it took to push Namjoon over the edge. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you fiercely, pouring every ounce of pent-up desire into the kiss.

His hands moved down to the hem of your shirt, and he lifted it over your head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. His gaze roamed your exposed skin hungrily, like a starving man who had just been presented with a feast.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation as he traced the outline of your bra with his fingertips. “You’ve always been so, so beautiful.”

You found yourselves pausing your hunger for a few minutes, basking in each other’s presence. You ended up leaning into the comfort of Namjoon’s arms. Both halted the intensity of the abrupt contact, with comfortable silences filling the gaps as you both lost yourself in the city sounds playing softly in the background. The dim light from the room cast a warm glow on Namjoon’s face, highlighting his features and making him even more irresistible.

Feeling a sudden rush of boldness, you moved closer to him, your body instinctively seeking his warmth. His eyes met yours, a silent question lingering in them. He pulled you even closer into his embrace, your bodies molding together as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.

His scent enveloped you, a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt his breath tickling the skin of your neck. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, causing a shiver to run down your spine. This was new, yet it felt so right.

With a soft sigh, you let your head fall back, exposing the long line of your neck. Namjoon’s lips found that sensitive skin, tracing a path down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers continued their exploration, now sliding through your thighs.

You shivered at his touch, your body begging for more. “Namjoon,” you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness. “Yes, y/n?”

“I want you to fuck me,” you confessed. Feeling bolder this time, you thought it was your turn to take your hands downtown. You dipped your hand into the hollow of his stomach before going down to trail kisses along the waistband of his pants. Namjoon groaned as he realized where this was headed.

Before he could protest, not that he would, you made quick work of undoing his belt to remove both it and his pants. Namjoon helped you undo them, his breath hitching as you wrapped your hand around his length. He was hard and ready, just as you were. Now fully exposed before you, he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze.

Catching onto his hesitation, you reassured him with a smile. “Don’t worry,” you said softly. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve thought about you, too,” he confessed. “You have no idea.”

With a swift motion, you stepped out of your own jeans, too, kicking them aside.

You reached behind yourself to unclasp the bra and let it fall to the floor before pulling Namjoon’s shirt over his head and discarding it as well.

Now, almost completely naked, there you stood before him, your bodies mere inches apart. Namjoon’s hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer. His thumb traced circles on your hip bone, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Namjoon’s breath hitched in his throat. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the reaction you were able to elicit from him.

Time seemed to slow down as I took in the sight before me – this was real; he wanted me just as much as I wanted him now.

You went down on him and took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him deeper. Namjoon tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you moved up and down on his length. The sight of you on your knees before him, taking him so willingly, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Shit,” he grunted, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily. “I’m gonna come too soon if you keep that up.”

You pulled away with a wicked smile, pressing yourself against Namjoon’s body. He could feel how wet you were even through the fabric of your panties, and he groaned in frustration.

“Why are we still wearing these?” he asked, his voice filled with need as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs.

Once you were both naked, Namjoon’s hand trailed downwards until it found its way between your legs. He ran a finger along your folds teasingly before slipping it inside of you.

You moaned softly at the feeling of being stretched by his finger. “I’m sure we can do more than that,” you begged in a needy voice.

Namjoon added a second finger, pumping them in and out of you at a steady pace. He curled his fingers upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep inside of you.

“God,” he groaned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He continued to work his fingers inside of you until he felt your body start to shake with the first layer of your orgasm. Your back arched off the bed, and a loud moan escaped from your lips as pleasure made your body tremble.

Namjoon removed his fingers from your dripping wet core and brought them up to his mouth, sucking on them eagerly as he tasted your essence.

“You taste so good,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation before moving downwards until he was positioned between your legs.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh before trailing a path of kisses up toward your throbbing center. His tongue flicked out and ran along your folds teasingly before zeroing in on your clit.

You gasped at the sensation of Namjoon’s warm tongue against your sensitive bud. He circled it slowly at first, the pressure increasing with every stroke. The combination of his skilled tongue and the way his hands were gripping the flesh of your thighs was driving you absolutely wild.

“Namjoon, stop,” you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips like a prayer. “I’m gonna cum again,”

Namjoon hummed against you in response, sending vibrations coursing through your body that pushed you right to the edge. His tongue moved faster and more insistently against your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With one final flick of his tongue, you shattered into a million pieces beneath him. Your body convulsed with pleasure as wave after wave of bliss washed over you.

Namjoon lapped up every drop of your release, not wanting to miss a single drop of you. Once you had come down from your high, he climbed back up the bed and pulled you into his arms.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you basked in the afterglow of your passion. “You’re really good at that,” you said softly.

Namjoon pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You taste amazing. I couldn’t help myself,” he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You looked up at him with a smile and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. There was so much more that you wanted to say, but words were unnecessary at that moment.

Instead, you let your actions speak for themselves as you pulled Namjoon closer and kissed him deeply. The taste of yourself on his lips only served to fuel the fire that was still burning between you.

As the kiss deepened, Namjoon’s hand trailed downwards once again until it found its way between your legs. He could feel how wet you still were, and a surge of desire shot through him like electricity.

He positioned himself at your entrance and looked into your eyes for confirmation before slowly pushing inside of you. You moaned softly at the feeling of being stretched around him once again, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled every inch of you.

Namjoon began to move slowly at first, savoring every sensation as he thrust in and out of your dripping wet core. With each movement, he felt himself getting lost in an ocean that only the two of you could create together.

The rhythm quickly escalated. Your hips bucked against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. The room was filled with the sounds of the bed creaking beneath you, skin slapping against skin, and moans mingling with whispers. It felt like time had ceased to exist as the world narrowed down to just the two of you, connected in every possible way.

The pace quickened as your bodies moved in perfect sync, building towards a shared climax that was just within reach. Namjoon’s thrusts became more urgent and desperate, like a man on the edge of sanity who was about to lose himself completely.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as an overwhelming sense of pleasure began to build deep within your core. “Namjoon,” you moaned, his name like a prayer on your lips. “I’m cu-”

With one final thrust, you both went hurtling over the edge together; your bodies shuddered and shook with the force of your release.

Eventually, the bliss receded, and you found yourselves once again floating back down to reality. Namjoon collapsed beside you and pulled you into his arms, holding onto you tightly as he tried to catch his breath.

“That was...” he trailed off, searching for the right words to describe what had just happened between you.

“Really fucking hot,” you supplied with a smile.

Hours after being together, you and Namjoon shared a cozy meal on his hotel room balcony, savoring Barcelona’s cuisine. With the city’s magic still lingering in the air, you both settled into a deep conversation about your shared passion for music.

As the minutes passed, you found yourselves planning to attend several concerts together in the coming weeks and months. The anticipation of sharing those experiences added another layer of intimacy to your thing.

You both lay intertwined in each other’s arms, cuddled in the dimly lit room. Fingers traced gentle patterns on each other’s skin, and you shared soft kisses that spoke volumes in their tenderness. That night was filled with smooth, whispered conversations, with playful moments of playing with each other’s hair.

Your time with Namjoon had an electric undercurrent that couldn’t be ignored. While not a romantic undertone, it was clear that there was a magnetic attraction between you two. You shared passionate moments, intimate conversations, and nights filled with desire that went beyond being ‘just friends.’

As you returned home, you both acknowledged the nature of your connection. A “friends with benefits” arrangement that allowed you to explore your feelings without the pressure of defining a full-blown relationship. The connection was intense, yet you hesitated to leap into something more serious.

You’d meet up when schedules allowed, enjoying each other’s company in and out of the bedroom. Your feelings for Namjoon were confusing, and you knew he felt the same way, so neither of you was ready to put a label on it.

As time passed, the relationship continued to evolve. It was a constant push and pull, a dance of desire and restraint. You shared everything with him, but the commitment to a traditional relationship still felt elusive.

Your life continued to grow more complex with each passing day. Not only were you navigating this with Namjoon and what you started doing after Barcelona, but you also had a history with Jungkook, and there already was a connection between these two men.

Jungkook, your on-again, off-again for the past two years, had been a source of both love and, of course, heartache in your life. It was a tumultuous relationship, filled with moments of intense connection followed by periods of emotional distance. He kept you dancing around the idea of commitment, yet he seemed reluctant to fully embrace it.

What made the situation even more difficult was the fact that Jungkook and Namjoon were very close friends. Your social circles had overlapped, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook had any inkling of your growing connection with Namjoon.

As you delved into the ‘benefits’ dynamic with Namjoon, it added a layer of secrecy to your life.

Your feelings for Jungkook have always been intense and genuine. He was the one you had envisioned a future with, and you longed for a committed, loving relationship. But Jungkook’s reluctance to settle down left you in a state of constant disappointment. He wanted the freedom to explore other options, yet he always kept you within arm’s reach, knowing he could turn to you whenever he pleased.

This cycle was taking a toll on you, causing not only the never-ending heartbreak but also a growing sense of frustration and exhaustion. It was clear to everyone, including your mutual friends, that you were deeply in love with Jungkook, but they also saw the toll it was taking on your well-being.

Namjoon, always so observant and compassionate, saw a glimmer of an opportunity. He understood the depths of your affection for Jungkook and sensed your growing disillusionment. He didn’t plan to interfere but couldn’t help but be drawn to your unique energy and the connection you two shared.

The situation was not of your making. Both Jungkook and Namjoon actively sought you out, and you, despite your love for Jungkook, found it challenging to resist the magnetic pull of your connection with Namjoon.

Jimin’s birthday was a pivotal moment. At that time, you and Jungkook had been mad at each other, tensions simmering beneath the surface. When you arrived at the bar to celebrate, you greeted everyone but Jungkook. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the distance between you was palpable.

Feeling the need for a moment of respite, you slipped away for a cigarette break, seeking solace in the night’s breeze. During this break, you found Taehyung, one of your close friends, who helped you calm down for the night.

Eventually, the group decided to move to another bar, and the atmosphere lightened as everyone indulged in the evening. The drinks flowed, and laughter filled the air. All was good again.

As the night drew to a close, Namjoon kindly offered to drive everyone home in his car. The group piled in, and it was cramped, to say the least. Amid the chaos, you found yourself sitting in Jungkook’s lap, something that was not your choice.

It was during this car ride that Jungkook’s emotional side emerged, fueled by alcohol. He revealed that he was leaving for another country for six months, a fact he had kept hidden from you. You were blindsided by this news and felt a surge of anger and frustration. How could he not have shared this with you before?

Throughout the evening, Namjoon had been watching you closely. He observed how you barely interacted with Jungkook since your arrival and acknowledged the underlying tension. However, he couldn’t deny the surge of anger he felt when you ended up in Jungkook’s lap, even if it was out of necessity.

In the aftermath of Jimin’s birthday, Jungkook planned a farewell dinner for the group on the following Friday. The dinner was heartwarming, even in those conditions. Afterward, you all decided to go for drinks, further complicating everything.

The bar you hit up after dinner turned into a bit of a downer for you. While Jungkook was busy having a blast with everyone else, he seemed to be totally ignoring you. And then, to top it off, he started cozying up to his best friend on the dance floor – talk about a buzzkill. You tried to play it cool, but deep down, it was eating you up inside. Your head was saying, I won’t get jealous, I won’t get jealous, but he kept laughing with her and holding her close to him.

You tried to distract yourself by keeping yourself glued to Taehyung and Jimin, but it was tough to keep up with their conversation when your mind was in a whirl. Chiming in occasionally was getting more complicated, so you let a bitter laugh at the ceiling, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom for a bit, asking your friends to keep your drink safe. Staring at yourself in the mirror, trying to get rid of your pathetic, sad eyes, you felt like you were stuck in some cheesy rom-com.

You couldn’t bear yourself anymore. You knew it wasn’t the girl’s fault, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of what if something was happening between them. You began spiraling, knowing you had to leave the place.

At the risk of seeing Jungkook’s silhouette on your way back to the table, you decided it was time to make a quick exit. Grabbing your purse, you muttered to your friends, “I’ll be right back,” under the pretense of needing some air, and dashed off before anyone could stop you.

Namjoon saw the whole picture. He was aware of your every move and how quick you left the bar. He worried at the thought of your utter goodbye for the night.

In the past days leading up to tonight, Namjoon found himself wrestling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he longed to be closer to you, to break through the walls you had built around your heart. Yet, on the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of finding happiness in Jungkook’s absence.

When you stepped outside, the weight of the night’s events hit you like a ton of bricks. You stood there on the sidewalk, feeling lost and overwhelmed. You instantly knew it was too much to actually leave like that. Pulling out your lighter and a cigarette, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. It was one of those times when you wished to call your mom and ask her, “can you pick me up?” but I guess ‘we’re too old for that.’ The air around you wasn’t even cold, but everything felt unbearably heavy.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, hard to believe that the asshole you love is having the time of his life. Good for him. You kept rambling. Are you really that detestable? How could he be having the time of his life while you were left feeling so insignificant? It stung to realize that he hadn’t even bothered to tell you about his plans to go for half a year. It was like a slap in the face, a painful reminder of how little you seemed to matter to him.

And the fucking icing on the cake is that tonight, you don’t even exist in his world.

As you were spiraling into a whirlwind of more negative emotions, your phone suddenly rang, jolting you out of your thoughts. Glancing at the screen, you saw ‘Joonie’ flashing back at you. With a sigh, you extinguished your cigarette and answered the call.

“Hello?” you greeted, your voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

From the background noise, you could tell that Namjoon was evidently still at the bar. “Care to tell me why you left?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t leave. I’m just outside having a chat with my cig,” you replied sarcastically.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Namjoon spoke again. “And you didn’t think to include me? I’ve been meaning to talk to that guy,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

As Namjoon’s voice filled your ears, a mixture of relief and surprise washed over you. You hadn’t expected him to call, let alone humor you in your self-imposed exile outside the bar.

“I didn’t realize you were such good friends with cigarettes,” you replied, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice despite the heaviness of the situation.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Namjoon chuckled softly. “Well, you know me. Always looking to fraternize,” he quipped, his tone warm and lighthearted.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, grateful for his presence even from a distance. “Thanks for calling Joonie,” you said, the affectionate nickname slipping from your lips without a second thought.

“Anytime,” Namjoon replied, his voice softening with sincerity. “But jokes aside, are you okay?”

The concern in Namjoon’s voice tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you once again of the depth of his care for you. “I’ll be fine,” you reassured him, although the words felt hollow even to your own ears.

There was another moment of silence, punctuated only by the distant strains of music drifting from the bar. “Do you want me to come out there?” Namjoon asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

As much as you wanted to say yes, to feel the comfort of Namjoon’s presence beside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him with your own shit. “No, it’s okay,” you replied, forcing a note of conviction into your voice. “I just needed some air.”

Namjoon didn’t press the issue. He knew what was happening and understood the meaning of your words. Instead, he simply said, “Alright, but get back inside already. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Even during your turmoil, Namjoon was there for you. “Okaaaaayyyy dad,” you replied, full of sarcasm.

Namjoon laughed softly, his voice carrying a warmth that eased the ache in your chest. “I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to come back in.”

As you made your way back inside the bar to the table where Jimin and Taehyung were seated, their expressions were a mixture of sympathy and awareness. “Are you okay?” Jimin asked, his voice soft but filled with genuine worry.

You forced a smile, attempting to mask the turmoil raging inside you. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, taking your long-forgotten and watered-down drink in one go, waving your hand dismissively. But they could see through the facade, sensing the underlying chaos that threatened to consume you.

Without a word, Namjoon approached the table. He placed his hand at the small of your back, offering silent support and understanding. In that moment, you felt grateful for his unwavering presence amidst your own drama.

You leaned against Namjoon’s torso and rubbed his chest before excusing yourself from the table once more. This time, however, you didn’t head for the exit. Instead, you made your way to the bar to order a considerable amount of drinks, already determined to stop feeling this level of shitty.

As you stood at the bar, ordering your drinks, you couldn’t shake the unease lingering within you. The noise of the crowded bar seemed to fade into the background as you wrestled with your thoughts, your mind consumed by the events of the evening.

On the other hand, Namjoon was careful to avoid the watchful eyes of your friends, who were scattered throughout the crowded bar. He trailed after you with a sense of purpose, his steps deliberate yet discreet. When he saw you at the bar, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist from behind.

At that moment, Namjoon’s heart swelled. Part of him wanted to console you for your evident emotional state. But another part couldn’t deny the selfish desire to hold you close, to revel in the warmth of your presence, even as you struggled with your own demons.

Leaning in, Namjoon gently kissed your right cheek, a silent offering of reassurance and understanding. To his relief, you sighed softly, your eyes closing as you leaned into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder without a second thought.

“You look way too hot tonight to be feeling like this,” he whispered softly, his words a tender acknowledgment of your heartache. Despite the seriousness of the situation, his tone showed a hint of playful sincerity.

A voice interrupted the moment, cutting through the noise like a knife. Neither of you noticed Jungkook’s approach until it was too late. Drunk and unsteady on his feet, Jungkook stumbled over to the bar, his eyes widening in disbelief as he caught sight of the two of you together.

"Y/N?" The voice was slurred, unmistakably Jungkook’s. You tensed in Namjoon’s arms, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to see Jungkook standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Jungkook,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you.

Namjoon tensed beside you, his grip on your waist tightening almost imperceptibly, his expression unreadable.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” Jungkook slurred, his words dripping with sarcasm as he stared at you and Namjoon. “Didn’t know you were into my friends, Y/N. Guess you’ll take anyone who gives an ounce of attention, huh?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you momentarily speechless as you recoiled from the unexpected attack. Namjoon, however, was quick to react, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he stepped forward to confront Jungkook.

“Hey, that’s enough, man,” Namjoon said firmly, his voice cutting through the air as he placed himself between you and Jungkook.

You felt a pang of regret at what you had inadvertently caused, knowing that Jungkook had every right to feel hurt by seeing you with his friend.

“Y/N... and Namjoon,” Jungkook slurred, his words laced with a hint of mockery. “I never would’ve guessed.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched in frustration. “Come on, man, you’re drunk, and you’re out of line.” Jungkook scoffed, flickering between you and Namjoon with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Out of line?” he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I’m just stating the obvious, aren’t I, Y/N?”

Namjoon placed a calming hand on his shoulder, his touch reassuringly. “Let’s not make a scene,” he said quietly, warning Jungkook. “You’re not yourself right now. We’ll talk about this later.”

For a moment, Jungkook seemed to waver, his drunken facade faltering. But then, with a bitter laugh, he turned and stumbled away.

Turning back to you with a look of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

You nodded, offering him a shaky smile as you tried to push aside the hurtful words that lingered in the air. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s just get out of here, please.”

The next day dawned with a sense of unease, the previous night’s events still fresh in your mind. As you woke to the harsh light of day filtering through your curtains, you couldn’t shake the discomfort that settled over you like a heavy blanket.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you checked your phone to find a message from Jungkook, his words a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded the night before. “Hey, did you come to the bar last night?” he wrote, his tone casual as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “I can’t remember a thing, lmao.”

On one hand, his casual tone and obliviousness to the events of the previous night grated on your nerves, but on the other hand, there was a sense of relief knowing that he seemed unaware of the tension that had hung between you, at least for now.

With a heavy sigh, you composed a response, your fingers tapping out a brief reply. “Yeah, I was there,” you wrote, your words tinged with a hint of bitterness you couldn’t shake. “What a night, huh? I’m glad you had fun.”

Meanwhile, on Namjoon’s end, the morning brought a sense of apprehension as he grappled with the aftermath of the confrontation with Jungkook. Despite his best efforts to put on a brave front, he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him from within.

Throughout the day, he debated whether or not to touch the subject with Jungkook. Still, his resolve faltered each time he tried to gather the courage. How could he confront his friend about his behavior without risking losing you?

As the hours passed, it became increasingly clear that Jungkook had no recollection of the events that had transpired the night before. His mind was fogged by the haze of alcohol, and he seemed oblivious to your exchange, leaving Namjoon at a loss for how to proceed.

After the farewell dinner passed, Namjoon became aware of your persistent efforts to see Jungkook one last time before his departure. He observed as you reached out to Jungkook, only to be met with excuses. Jungkook definitely didn’t want to make the effort to see you.

In the middle of the week, all the guys went out to grab some food; Namjoon sat in the backseat of the car alongside Jungkook, Jimin in the passenger seat, and Taehyung at the wheel. He noticed Jungkook’s phone light up with your name on the screen. It was already dark outside, so the glow from the phone illuminated Jungkook’s face, and Namjoon clearly saw your name on the screen.

It wasn’t a silent ride, so Namjoon didn’t know how the hell he could hear your voice so well as you spoke to Jungkook. Your desperation was palpable, each word carrying the weight of your emotions as you questioned Jungkook about what he had been up to and if he hadn’t gotten the chance to see any of your texts. Namjoon felt a pang of sympathy as he listened, knowing all too well the pain you were feeling.

Jungkook’s response was vague, and his attitude spoke volumes during the conversation.

It was a moment of rawness, the culmination of all your emotions laid bare in a single question. “Can’t you see I was in love with you?” As you spoke, your voice trembled with emotion, the words hanging heavy in the air. “I never asked you for anything,” you continued, your tone tinged with desperation. “nothing, Jungkook, not for you to move in with me or marry me; I just wanted to be with you.” Each word was punctuated by the ache of unfulfilled longing, a plea for understanding in the face of uncertainty. “I don’t get why we can’t be together,” you confessed, the weight of your heartache evident in your voice.

As Namjoon listened to your heartfelt plea, his heart sank with the weight of your words. He felt the tension in the air, a palpable reminder of the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. Unsure of what to do, he found himself fidgeting with his phone, his fingers tracing aimless patterns on the screen. He glanced briefly at Jungkook, whose expression remained unreadable, before clearing his throat in an attempt to dispel the heavy silence that hung over them. “Should we try that new restaurant that just opened up downtown?” Namjoon suggested his voice as carefully neutral as possible. He knew that your words had struck a chord in his friend.

As Jungkook struggled to find the right way to respond to your words, his mind raced with conflicting emotions. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His silence hanging heavy in the air.

Sensing his hesitation, you felt a surge of tears welling up inside. Without waiting for him to finally say something, you abruptly ended the call, your actions driven more by the need to release your pent-up emotions than a desire to hear Jungkook’s explanation. The line went silent, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts, grappling with the weight of your words and his own inability to answer.

Jungkook’s feelings for you remained ambiguous. It was evident that there was a deep connection between you and him. He knew he loved the attention you gave him without fully understanding your feelings. To be completely honest, you caught him off guard tonight.

He never expected your affection to run so deeply, and the words you just revealed to him left him feeling surprised and perhaps a bit overwhelmed. Jungkook may have underestimated the extent of your emotions and failed to recognize the depth of what he had with you until now.

Namjoon picked you up at the hour he promised. He didn’t waste time and started asking you about what you had been up to. He said he wanted to know how you liked the last music festival you went to, how work had been, and barely five minutes had passed.

“So, where do you want to go?” “I was thinking we could go to one of the bars near my place; what do you think?”

“Sure, I haven’t gone out at all lately”, “did you have one in mind?”

“Wait, tell me first, did you already have dinner?”

You shook your head.

“Good because I haven’t either.” What do you say if we go home and have dinner instead?”

“I’d like that”, “what about some takeout?”

On your way to get food and to his house, he didn’t stop talking for the whole ride; he kept asking all these things about you. And it’s not like you’ve not seen this side of him, but it felt nice that someone was interested enough to ask about your life lately.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you sat on his bed, eating and watching a movie. You talked about books and films and even asked if you’d considered having children someday. The atmosphere between you was electric, as always, and Namjoon couldn’t help but be swept up in it.

Getting your containers out of the way, he gently hugged you closer, feeling the warmth of your body against his. Your heart raced at his touch, you could never deny the connection between you. “Aren’t you cold?” He began to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his lips explored your sensitive skin.

The movie played in the background, but you barely noticed as Namjoon pressed you closer, his body molding against yours. “Not anymore,” and then he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roamed your body.

The heat between you was undeniable as Namjoon lifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him as he rutted into you. You moaned with pleasure, your bodies moving in a rhythm that felt both new and familiar.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed him passionately, lost in the moment. Namjoon’s hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and leaving a fire trail in their wake. The air around you was thick with desire as you both gave in to the electricity that pulsed between you.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin, marking you as his. Each touch sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, causing your breath to hitch and your body to arch against him.

“Namjoon,” you moaned his name softly, the sound music to his ears. He lifted you effortlessly, laying you down on the bed so that he could hover above you. His eyes held a mixture of hunger and adoration as he took in the sight before him.

“You’re so hot,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks at his words, but before you could respond, his lips were on yours again.

The kiss was deep and passionate, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Namjoon’s hands explored every inch of your body, leaving no skin untouched. The soft fabric of your clothes became an obstacle that needed to be removed. With nimble fingers, he began undressing you.

When all barriers were gone, he took a moment to admire the sight before him - your naked body spread out beneath him like it was the first time his eyes ever saw you. You squirmed under his gaze.

Get a grip. This is not the first time this has happened.

He leaned down and captured one of your nipples between his lips while his hand massaged the other breast. The sensation was overwhelming as pleasure coursed through every nerve ending in your body.

Your back arched as you moaned his name loudly into the room. Namjoon continued to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing flicks of his tongue.

His lips traveled a path of hot kisses down your stomach, leaving a fire trail in their wake. He peppered your skin with soft bites and licks as he made his way to the apex of your thighs.

The anticipation built within you as you felt his warm breath against your core. When his tongue finally made contact with your sensitive bud, a moan ripped from your throat. It was intense, almost too much to handle, as he expertly swirled his tongue around your clit.

Your hips bucked involuntarily as waves of ecstasy crashed over you like an earthquake. Namjoon held onto your thighs, keeping you in place as he continued to devour you with his mouth. His hands were firm yet gentle as they held onto you, grounding you in the sea of pleasure that threatened to sweep you away.

As the intensity grew, so did the need for more. You tugged at Namjoon’s hair, urging him to come up to kiss you. He complied, moving up your body until his lips met yours once again.

You flipped him over so that now you were straddling him again. Your hands roamed over his muscular chest and abdomen before trailing lower to remove his pants.

The familiar sight before you took your breath away - Namjoon completely naked and at your mercy. His length stood proudly at your attention, begging for your touch. You wrapped one hand around him firmly while using the other to tease his balls.

The anticipation built within him as he felt your warm breath against his neck. You peppered his skin with soft bites and kisses as you made your way to the apex of his thighs.

When you finally took him in your mouth, all coherent thought fled from Namjoon’s mind. The sensation was indescribable - a mixture of wet heat and suction that threatened to push him over the edge before he even had a chance to enjoy it fully.

Your tongue swirled around the tip of his length. At the same time, you maintained eye contact with him, the sight alone nearly enough to send him hurling into oblivion.

As if reading his mind, you hollowed out your cheeks and took him in deeper, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Namjoon’s hips bucked involuntarily as pleasure surged through every fiber of his being.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned loudly, the sound reverberating throughout the room. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued to work him with your mouth, alternating between long strokes and teasing flicks of your tongue.

Namjoon’s hands found their way into your hair, holding onto you for dear life as he rode out the electric charges coursing through his veins. The feeling was almost too much to bear, in the best possible way.

He could feel the pressure building within him as he neared the point of no return. With one final thrust of his hips and a low groan that quickly turned into a string of curses, Namjoon came undone.

His release flooded your mouth in hot spurts, the taste always so addictive. You swallowed him down eagerly. When he finally finished, and his body went limp with pleasure, you released him from your mouth.

Namjoon’s head fell back against the pillow and a groan escaped his lips. The sound was like music to your ears as it signaled that you drove him just as wild as he was driving you.

You leaned forward and captured one of his nipples between your lips, sucking gently. Namjoon’s hands found their way to your hips, holding you in place as he thrust upwards, seeking more friction, not giving room to his own overstimulation.

The combined sensations were overwhelming as pleasure surged through every fiber of your being. You continued to grind slowly, relishing in the way his breath hitched and his body reacted to your touch.

“Fuck, I need to be inside,” Namjoon groaned, his voice filled with desperation. The words sent a surge of heat straight to your core as you felt the wetness between your thighs increase.

You positioned yourself over him, lining him up with your entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length. You never got used to the exquisite feeling of fullness he gave you when he filled you completely, stretching you in all the right ways.

Namjoon’s hands gripped onto your hips tightly as you began to move, riding him at a pace that left both of you breathless. His eyes never left yours as he watched all of your emotions play out on your face.

The sounds of skin slapping were intoxicating. Every movement brought you closer and closer to the edge until you finally felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“I’m coming,” you managed to gasp out between moans. Namjoon nodded in understanding, his own release rapidly approaching. He reached between your bodies and began rubbing circles on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

Stars exploded behind your eyelids as a powerful orgasm crashed over you. You clamped down on Namjoon’s length as pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending in your body.

The sight was enough to send Namjoon rushing into his own orgasm. With a loud groan, he spilled himself inside of you, filling you up and leaving you all warm and pliant.

He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You rested your head against him, your thoughts suddenly swirling with confusion and desire.

Another movie on TV played in the background, but once again, it went unnoticed as Namjoon pressed soft kisses against your forehead.

As you lay in Namjoon’s chest, your body still warm from his touch, you began questioning your decisions. The weight of the moment pressed against your chest as you listened to the rhythm of his heart. It was a stark reminder that you were here with him, tangled in the sheets, while Jungkook remained out of reach.

It was the pain of missing someone so unattainable.

“I’m so glad we talked,” he playfully whispered against your skin. You looked up at him, and Namjoon sensed the shift in your demeanor. He propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze tracing over the contours of your face. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, concern lacing his voice.

You turned your head to meet his gaze and offered a small smile. “Yeah,” you replied, though uncertainty lingered in your words. “Just...thinking.”

He reached out a hand to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the curve of your jaw. Namjoon’s dark eyes held an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “About what?” he inquired.

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with him. After all, he had been nothing but open and sincere with you since your dynamic began to form. “Suddenly, I just started wondering...what am I doing” you admitted, searching for the right words to explain yourself.

Namjoon’s expression softened as he took in your words, understanding blooming across his features. He shifted closer to you, closing the remaining distance between your bodies and cupping your face in his hands. “You’re here doing this with me because we both want this,” he said firmly yet gently.

His thumb traced circles along your cheekbone as he continued speaking. “I know it’s complicated,” Namjoon acknowledged, his voice filled with empathy. “But we've built something mind-blowing—we can’t deny that.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Namjoon saw past the physical desire, recognizing the emotional entanglement that had brought you to this moment.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture. “I don’t want you to overthink this,” Namjoon murmured. “Just let yourself feel, and we’ll figure it out somewhere along the way.”

His words resonated with you, easing the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through your mind. In this quiet and intimate moment, Namjoon had provided the reassurance and grounding that you needed.

You wrapped your arms around him, in awe of what he just told you. His body melded with yours, offering warmth and solace in a way that no one else had. Here, in the sanctuary of his arms, you allowed yourself to surrender to his intoxicating hugs.

The weight of uncertainty began to lift as passion replaced doubt. Namjoon’s touch ignited a fire within you—one that burned away insecurities and hesitations.

With a newfound sense of clarity, you tilted your head up to capture his lips with yours in a searing kiss. It was a silent admittance—a shared understanding.

Namjoon responded eagerly, his lips moving hungrily against yours as desire flared between you. The air grew thick with anticipation as the heat intensified, driving all rational thought from your mind.

In this moment—this raw and unfiltered desire—you were able to set aside the complexities of love and longing. It was just the two of you, bodies entwined.

You ground your hips against him, aching for more of his touch. The friction between you was intoxicating, and the hunger in Namjoon’s eyes mirrored your own.

With one hand gripping your waist, he used the other to trace a path down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Needing to feel more of him, you tugged at his torso, silently urging him to get closer. Namjoon obliged.

Unable to resist any longer, you leaned in to press a kiss against his collarbone. Slowly, you worked your way across his chest, nipping and sucking at his skin along the way. Each moan that escaped from Namjoon’s lips only spurred you on.

Namjoon’s hands roamed over your body, creating an inferno wherever they touched. Desire pooled low in your stomach as his fingers traced patterns on your skin, igniting a fire that hadn’t been extinguished earlier.

Unable to wait longer, you straddled him again, aligning your bodies so perfectly that it felt like coming home. The heat radiating from his hard length made you gasp in anticipation; you needed him desperately once again.

Namjoon’s hands found their way to the small of your back as he pulled you impossibly closer until there was no space left between. Every ridge and plane of your bodies met and melded together as if they were always meant to be this way.

Your eyes locked in before he finally entered you, inch by glorious inch. A moan escaped both your lips at this new sensation; it hasn't felt like this before. It was clear that brand new emotion was being assimilated in your bodies.

As Namjoon began moving inside you with slow yet deliberate thrusts that had you seeing stars with each delicious stroke, your lips found each other once again. The kiss was a perfect blend of passion and desire that left you both gasping for breath.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, your body rocked by the force of his movements. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intensity building with every passing second.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon groaned against your lips, his voice laced with a rawness that sent shivers down your spine. It was all you could do to hold on as you quivered; there wasn’t even a point in counting how many times he’s made you cum tonight.

You moved together in perfect sync, lost in a world where only your bodies and the overwhelming need for one another existed in this room. Time ceased to have any meaning as you chased your releases.

When it finally hit— that earth-shattering peak that left you gasping for air— it was as if everything fell into place. At that moment, there were no doubts or uncertainties; it was just you and Namjoon and the undeniable infatuation you shared.

As the world slowly came back into focus and your breathing returned to normal, you rested your forehead against Namjoon’s, staring deep into his eyes. You didn’t need words to convey what you were both thinking; this had just been the most incredible sex any of you have had since you started seeing each other.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. Namjoon stirred beside you, his sleepy gaze meeting yours. You exchanged a knowing look, but the weight of unspoken questions hung in the air.

As you both got dressed and prepared to leave, the atmosphere between you grew slightly tense. The intimacy you had shared was undeniable, but the implications were yet to be understood. You couldn’t ignore the lingering question of whether this was still a momentary escape for you or something that blossomed out last night.

As Namjoon drove you home, the usual comfortable conversation flowed between you, easing some of the tension that had built up within you. His presence was a source of familiarity and reassurance, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the dynamic between the two of you was turning into.

You had always considered Namjoon a nice guy, someone you could rely on, someone who took on the role to care of you in every way. Lately, things have taken a more intimate turn, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. The physical encounter you had just shared added a layer of complexity to your relationship, leaving you with whole lot of questions.

As he pulled up in front of your house, you turned to face him, contemplating your next move. You appreciated him taking you home, but you wanted to retreat to the familiarity of your own space as soon as possible, where you could process the events of the past night.

As you stepped out of the car, you thanked Namjoon once again for everything. The unresolved tension hung in the air, unspoken words and uncharted territory lingering between you. It was clear that there was more to explore, but you also recognized the importance of introspection in this situation.

Walking away from the car, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for you and Namjoon. Would you continue to explore this newfound connection, or would you both retreat back to the safety of being just an acquaintance, brushing off the intensity of the previous night as a momentary lapse?

As you entered your home, uncertainty weighed on your mind, and the echoes of the night still resonated within you. One thing was sure, though—this unexpected encounter had left a strong mark, forcing you to confront your fears.

As you continued to navigate your emotions, you couldn’t help but wonder. Would you eventually find the clarity? Or were you destined to be caught in this eternal struggle between the familiar but tumultuous past and the electrifying but uncertain present?

I don’t even know what I’m getting myself into.

A week later, as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, you found yourself lost in thought. It had been weeks since Jungkook had finally come back and texted you, so fate had a way of bringing you back together when you least expected it.

It started innocently enough. You were on your way to meet a few friends for dinner when you spotted him across the street. The sight of Jungkook after all this time sent a jolt of electricity through your veins, stirring emotions you had tried so hard to bury.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Should you approach him and acknowledge his presence, or should you pretend not to see him and continue on your way?

Before you could decide, Jungkook turned and locked eyes with you. Time seemed to stand still as you stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Taking a deep breath, you summoned some courage you didn’t know you still had. “Jungkook,” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Facing you, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Y/N,” he replied, his voice equally soft.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the past hanging heavy between you.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Jungkook finally broke the silence, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness.

“I could say the same,” you replied, countless emotions swirling inside you.

There was a pause as you both searched for the right words, the distance between you feeling both vast and infinitesimal.

“How have you been?” Jungkook asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

You shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “I’ve been... okay,” you replied hesitantly. “And you?”

Jungkook nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve been keeping busy,” he said cryptically.

More silence followed as you both struggled to find common ground, the awkwardness of the situation palpable.

“I should get going,” you finally said, breaking the tension. “It was... nice seeing you, Jungkook.”

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. “Yeah, you too,” he replied softly.

Just as you turned to leave, Jungkook found himself unable to resist the urge to speak up. “Wait,” he called out, voice barely above a whisper.

You turned back to face him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “yes?” you asked, your tone gentle.

He hesitated for a moment, the words catching in his throat. “Can we get together and talk sometime?” Jungkook finally asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Your expression softened. “About what?” you replied, your voice barely audible over the city’s din.

It was quiet for a minute. “Forget it,” Jungkook said quickly, his smile faltering. “It’s nothing.”

But you couldn’t let it go. “No, Jungkook,” you insisted, stepping closer to him. “What do you need to talk about?”

For a moment, Jungkook seemed taken aback by your question, his eyes widening in surprise. And then, with a slight smile, he stepped closer to you.

He cleared his throat, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “I mean,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper as though he was afraid of the words themselves. He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “It’s not like I need to, but...”

You listened intently, the gravity of Jungkook’s words sinking in. It was as if he was voicing the thoughts swirling in your mind, the unspoken desires and lingering emotions that you had both been grappling with for so long.

“We’ve always made it complicated, I know,” Jungkook continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I can’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—there’s a chance for us to figure out what we had.”

For a moment, you were both suspended in time; your shared moments and potential futures flashed through your eyes. Jungkook’s question had stirred something within you, a complicated mix of nostalgia, longing, and confusion. The echoes of your past relationship with him were interwoven with the exciting and passionate dynamic you had recently discovered with Namjoon. You knew you had to make a decision, not only for yourself but also for them.

As you looked into Jungkook’s hopeful eyes, you felt deep regret, not for the moments you had shared, but for the ones that never were and would never be. You realized you had been clinging to the hope that may never come. You knew in your heart that it was time to let go and move forward.

With a deep breath, you broke the silence. ‘Jungkook,’ you began, your voice steady, ‘I think it’s best if we don’t…’ Your words trailed off, but you hoped your message was clear.

Lost in your thoughts, you continued to meet your friends, the weight of shutting out someone who hurt you in the past, heavy on your shoulders. As you sat down to dinner, the events of the evening played over and over in your mind, leaving you drained of emotion.

Later that evening, after that particularly confusing and unplanned encounter with Jungkook, you found yourself sitting on the balcony of your apartment, staring out at the city lights. The soothing sound of one of your jazz playlists playing in the background served as a backdrop to your contemplation.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and it was Namjoon. He had sent you a text that read, “I don’t want to be the cause of your pain, but I can’t help how I feel. It’s complicated, I know. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what you want to do.”

His message struck a chord deep within you. You realized that Namjoon carved himself a special place in your heart, and it was time to tell him your choice.

With Namjoon, you felt a different kind of connection. His understanding and acceptance of your complicated situation were comforting. The passion between you was undeniable, but more than that, you felt seen, valued, and respected in a way that you hadn’t with Jungkook.

As dawn breaks, you find yourself comfortably sheltered on your balcony with a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. The richness of its aroma fills your senses, providing a comforting solitude as you are lost in a sea of thoughts that you have been pondering since the early hours. Your surroundings are quiet, the world below still hushed in the early morning slumber.

Suddenly, this serene silence is broken by a familiar voice echoing from below. The unexpected shout of your name startles you, causing you to rise abruptly from your chair, your heart skipping a beat with the suddenness of it. Curiosity instantly piques within you, a compelling urge to discover the source of this voice calling you.

When you leaned over the balcony railing to peer down, much to your surprise and a slight sense of disbelief, you saw Namjoon. There he was, standing on the lonely street beneath your balcony, his posture exuding an aura of determination. The sight of him there, seemingly out of the blue, took you aback. You hadn’t expected to see him, not at this hour, not here.

“Namjoon, what are you doing here?” you managed to ask him, your voice barely a whisper against the morning chill. Your heart was racing, pounding in your chest at the unexpected sight of him. “Come on up!” You invited him in with a giggle, your mind spinning, thinking, oh my god, he’s here. A surge of laughter bubbled within you as you retreated from the balcony, giving him the time to go up to the first floor.

Without uttering a single word in response, Namjoon quickly made his way up the stairs leading to your apartment. As soon as he stepped through the door, his presence filled the room, bringing a sense of warmth and familiarity you hadn’t realized was missing until now.

The silence that had ensued was once again broken by Namjoon’s voice. His voice was softer and gentler this time, but his determination was no less. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Y/N,” he confessed, his eyes directly meeting yours in a gaze that held you captive. “I needed to see you, talk to you.”

“You drive me crazy in the best possible way,” Namjoon started. “Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, it’s like electricity coursing through my veins, igniting a fire that I can’t control.”

“From the moment I met you, I’ve been consumed by the thought of you, your touch, your scent, your laughter.” Namjoon continued. “I couldn’t resist your pull on me, drawing me in like a moth.”

“You make me feel alive, Y/N,” Namjoon confessed, his eyes burning with desire. “And I never want to let that go. I want to explore every inch of you, body and soul, to lose myself in the passion we share.”

“I want you to go out for drinks with your friends,” Namjoon expressed, his voice still soft. “So when you feel hungover the next day, you’ll ask me to come see you because you want to have me in your arms and cuddle you.”

“I want us to talk in the mornings, still in bed, about all types of things,” Namjoon continued, a fond smile playing on his lips. “But sometimes in the afternoons, too, I want us to be able to do whatever we want during the day.”

“I want you to tell me about the nights you go out with your friends,” Namjoon confessed, his eyes filled with warmth. “And tell me about the guy at the bar who was trying to flirt with you all night. I want you to text me when you’re drunk with your friends just to tell me dumb things because you want to be sure that I’m also thinking about you.”

“I want us to laugh while we’re making love,” Namjoon declared, full of yearning. “To start laughing because we’re trying something new, and it doesn’t make any sense. I want us to be with our friends so you can take my hand and drag me to the other room because you can’t hold back anymore, and you want us to make love right there. I want to make you try to stay quiet because there are people outside, and they might hear us.”

“I want to eat with you all the time,” Namjoon continued. “And I want you to make me talk about myself and for you to talk about everything that’s on your mind. I want us to discuss which is best, the north coast or the south coast, the west or the east. I want to imagine our dream home, still aware that we might never live together.”

“I want to tell you about my plans, the ones that make no sense whatsoever,” Namjoon confessed, his voice filled with excitement. “I want to surprise you by saying, ‘Take your passport, we’re leaving.’ I want to be afraid with you. Do things I wouldn’t do with anyone else because you make me feel safe. Come back home drunk after a night out with my friends, and for you to take my face in your hands, kiss me, and keep me close to you the whole night.”

“I want you to have your life,” Namjoon continued, his tone sincere. “So you can decide to take a few weeks off to go on a trip just because you want to. So you leave me wishing to see you through FaceTime, but all it makes me do is miss you more.”

“I don’t want us to be joined at the hip all the time,” Namjoon admitted, a smile playing on his lips. “That way, we can hang out the next day. You can tell me about your night, and I can tell you about mine.”

“I want something simple yet complicated,” Namjoon declared, his eyes locking with you. “Something that often makes me question myself, but the moment I’m in the same room with you, all my doubts disappear. I want to tell everyone you’re gorgeous, and I want to be proud to say we’re together. I want to tell you that I love you, and most importantly, I want you to be able to say that you love me, too.”

“I want to make plans with you,” Namjoon continued, his voice filled with hope. “Unaware if we’ll make them come true. I want you to have a relationship where you know where you stand. I want to be someone who you love to be with. I want us to still have the desire to fool around at times because we’re still young.”

“I want to be the one you make love to and then fall asleep with,” Namjoon confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand now caressing your cheek. “The one who gives you your space and loves when you get lost in your playlists. I want to have a single life with you because our relationship would be just like that, but together.”

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gazeofseer · 2 months ago

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Universe is Infinite Darkness to find the Definite, hence there breathes an ocean full of stars and realms to ignite the gleaming light in a Life"

~}^°§| Pick a Pile }^°§|~

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Image. 1 : 'Mystical charm is a matter of debate, but ask a person who is themselves like one, who sheds multiple skins as the night takes turns beneath the days, the most awakened ones torn by the fate, but lives in a state of trance and melancholy where they see life and death at the same sight you are that one right?

Nice to meet you I never thought people could be wonderful too unless I reached to your energy a subtle leader who holds the world with their presence the chaos you soothe for your peace, your rage is as profound as the seamstress you are of Whatever is found..

Well I had a note from your spirits granny's favourite, and Mommy issues being as an trait you could match your vibe easily with men not because you are maneater or they see you as an damsel in distress too dumb to be shown and preyed so many concave your presence no my dear, you are the scapegoat a ones by the divine not for the world but to be in the world for the world, your purpose is clear your intent is too, what makes us worry is the way you feel alone, we keep showing up like day before yesterday in the market..? Find us in your tears, find us in your pain we are always speaking especially when you keep holding those volcanoes within the calmest demure of oceanic scenes -

With Love Granny.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Image.2 : 'Oh the mess you create my love, as if all the complexity finds its ends in your simplicity, I see you know exactly what to do, when to do and how to do, my righteous queen, be at ease when things go wrong maybe, maybe someone is correcting you too, stop seeing life as a perception see it for the way your do it, live it, being one.

I guess you would have known by now whom am I right? Well I feel so little in front of you because your energy belongs to those of stars and the moon the divine one, this is your demon speaking....sacred huh? I know you aren't rather you are excited and challenged to meet people, to visit places that helps you to set up your own stage and create the magic that you are..

Like a jinx of your victory, I enter to annoy your darkness as it is my place and to soothe your aches and anxious hands with my alluring kisses leaving room for more space so you realise change is not an idea but it lies in you, I will be the cheerleader, the critic, the liar for you to be true in your nature I am your base to the extreme you are..I am your rewarding love for the resilience within you

- In Regards Your Spouse

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Image.3 : Lost? Is that even a world which has yet to find its terms of reality? My favourite warrior out there the vantage you reside in is my gift using it for battle is equivalent to your choice of using it to experience my existence even underneath the lies you found yourself around..

You are right life is daunting may death cut that, but what lies next is far more haunting for your soul to suffer from and I won't let you die till you fulfill the life I gave you my child.

If I have cursed you is for you to earn the blessings attested to the same, I am not playing nor will I let anyone play with you have faith and know whatever is led is come from my hands and walk towards it like you always do closing your eyes, seeing the light and attaining it by becoming one is you key.

You are the fire that walks with both the fire and burns, ashes and smoke there are two things you are one of all the contrasts you the main character you are the movie I have written quite proudly.

- Universe

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Image.4 : Escape is my second name, I know that what lies and what not was never a matter of bother because I speak through my existence, knowing my every move, being awakened and stretched to every inch of my soul and breathe, like the wind I do, and like the water I ground,

I am the memory of a life already lived, many of it adds to the ones I am living right now my journey is unique, different and beyond the queer or crowd because silence never settled in definite spaces rather moves the infinite space itself, I am the dust falling of your hands, I am hope walking through your feet it is my free will, And I am not pricing it for anything or anyone else ever or ever and never.

Life and fate are the players and my competitors they long like the shore for my heart beats thudding with grace of waves, I am not death nor life, nor an idea not a thing that can be said and ceased to believe I am a life happening millions in a while and once in billion time and I will make it to the savor of it like chosen one I volunteered my name to the divines and demons everyone forgets it's the damsel who enthroned as a queen, certainly.

- Yourself ( Ancestor )

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'Source is the one we all are connected with finding a way to it is always unique and why we millions of energies are distorted into uncountable ones to thrive towards' - S

Ps : Let me know did you find yours? ☘️🫁

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#wisdom #divination #divine guidance #pyschic reading #gratitude #intutive reading #pick a image #pick a pile #pick a card #signs #universe

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elliespeach · 1 year ago

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no chances part six | ellie williams

pairing: ellie williams x afab reader synopsis: you and ellie are on rival volleyball teams and after letting your competitive nature get the better of both of you, tensions are high on and off the court. warnings: 18+, foul language, implied sexual themes, no smut, fluff after the angst, ellie is a little mean to herself in this part, mentions of weed uhhhh i think thats it? if i missed anything pls let me know authors note: this is the last part guys :)) i wanna do an epilogue but it wont count as a full part really but expect that!! thank you guys so so so much for all the love for this series it really means a lot you have no idea. my bad it took me so long to get this part out, ive been quite busy with life and being sickly but i am so happy to share this with you guys finally !!! i hope it's everything u wanted and more <333 w peace n loveeee

somehow you had managed to keep yourself collected until the end of the game, returning to the gym after splashing some water on your face. ellie never made an appearance, instead remained sulking in her car at how she had treated you. she knew you didn’t deserve that and it haunted her while she drove, alone and in silence. with her absence your team had taken the win but you found it hard to be in a cheerful mood, instead putting on a fake face for your teammates while they were over the moon. the bus ride back was loud and full of energy, everyone was complimenting each other on how they had played, and congratulating each other on a glorious victory.

at the beginning of the season this would have never bothered you so much. ellie’s words did little to affect you then, but now it took over your mind and her words echoed in your head. her decision to sit out because of you weighed on you heavily and it felt like you were about to burst into tears at any moment. not only sit out, but not show up at all. you’ve always hated her, but the past few months have felt different. felt lighter and more playful, rather than how it was in the beginning.

staring out of the window, watching the blurry trees zip by while the bus went down the highway, you thought about the hotel. the one little moment you two had shared that wasn’t driven by lust. you weren’t sure what it was that night, but you remember how nice it had felt. seeing her in a completely different light for the first time, wrapped in her arms and just feeling at peace. a tear fell from your eye and you quickly wiped it away, shaking your head and deciding to not think about it right now.

when you got back into your dorm room, peeling off your clothes and jumping straight into the shower you finally broke down. letting out any and all emotions you had about her. you remained in the shower way longer than you had to, just letting the hot water just run over you. it didn’t bother you until the memory of one of the nights ellie and you had come back here flooded your mind. you had felt extra sweaty from the game and wanted a shower, and ellie didn’t hesitate to join you. she had laughed while stepping into the small shower, “we should conserve water, y’know?”

that night had been the same as the rest, after the shower she promptly went home, leaving you satisfied but missing something. and that something vanished the second she closed the door behind her.

with that you ended your shower, stepping out into the cold of your small bathroom. a shiver went through you while you looked in the mirror, seeing how disheveled you looked. it was pitiful to be honest. you thought about texting her, telling her all of the things that crossed your mind as you stood in front of the mirror. how could you say that to me? i was just trying to help.

only to realize that you didn’t even have her phone number. it made some sense, there wasn’t a need to anyway as you only spoke at games. still, the realization burned in your chest like wildfire and you quickly made a decision. “fuck it–” you said to yourself, throwing off your towel and replacing it with comfortable clothes. thankfully, during one of your new found traditions with ellie, she realized she didn’t bring any of her stash and you had looked a little too disappointed for her liking. she offered her dorm up almost instantly, following it up with a quick and faulty reasoning. you knew exactly where to go.

within seconds you were in the stairwell, keys jingling in your hand and the sound of your slippers echoing off the walls. you went down three floors all the while rehearsing the speech you were going to give her the second you laid eyes on her. because of me? you didn’t play because of me like it’s my fault that we’re in this fucked up situation? you trotted down the last few steps leading to the exit door. you’re vulnerable enough to have sex with me every week but a conversation is far out of your realm of capabilities i guess. you pushed open the door with a huff. you’re too stupid to realize that we might actually hav–

“can you hold the door for me–” the sound of her voice made you look up from the ground, your pace diminished and you took slow steps out of the door. it shut with a click behind you while you looked into those familiar green eyes. “oh, fuck,” ellie said nervously, she defiantly wasn’t expecting it to be you.

“what are you doing here?” your eyebrows furrowed, but your tone remained neutral. suddenly feeling the burning in your chest start to evaporate. the lamp posts cast a dim light on her standing on the sidewalk, playing with her fingers nervously and often shifting her weight on either foot.

“was waiting for someone to let me in–”

“no i mean, like why are you on my campus?” you asked, swiftly putting your keys in your pocket.

she hesitated, looking down to the ground before back up to you. “i uh, wanted to talk to you–”

“thats a first,” the words spilled out of your mouth with a sarcastic laugh.

ellie’s face contorted into a grimace and she shook her head, “whatever, i knew i should’ve just went home.” she spun around, taking only a few short steps down the sidewalk.

involuntarily your eyes rolled and you jogged to catch up to her, pulling her wrist and turning her back around to you. now only being a few feet apart, ellie could see the redness in your eyes from crying. being embarrassed you looked to the side and let go of her wrist. “if you wanna talk, let’s talk.”

she gestured to your pocket where you had placed your keys, “i don’t wanna keep you from wherever you were going,” she tried to deflect.

you blinked, quickly trying to come up with anything besides telling her that you were on your way to give her a piece of your mind. although now standing in her presence everything felt too harsh, all the words you had prepared slipped away from you. “it wasn’t as important,” you shrugged, offering her a faint smile, “we can talk.”

“so i’m important?” ellie teased, her lips curling at the ends slightly and she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants. seeing your smile ignited something inside of her that made her feel softer, more comfortable.

“didn’t say that,” you quickly rebutted while walking leisurely past her, expecting her to follow you and she did.

“yeah but, you implied it.” she quipped, coming up beside you and keeping your pace. the lamp posts did little to illuminate the world around you and most of the walkway was dark until you were directly underneath the light.

you sighed lightheartedly, “yeah, whatever,” you began, taking a beat between your thoughts. “so are you like, gonna apologize for being a total asshole?”

ellie sucked in a deep breath, looking straight ahead. the cool night breeze was comfortable, but it didn’t stop your face from growing hot with anticipation. “yeah, i’m sorry ‘bout that,” ellie’s voice dropped, the amusement in her tone vanishing with the wind. “i shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“then why did you?” you asked genuinely, your voice matching hers. your eyes were glued to your feet as they scraped the cement below.

“i don’t know,” she responded, taking a quick look at you but you didn’t meet her eyes although you could feel her gaze. “i do know that whatever this is between us is confusing–”

“i’m not confused,” you admitted, playing with your hands. “i don’t think you are exactly that confused either. that conversation by your car a million years ago? you all but told me how you felt, so why is it so much harder for you now?”

“because someone like you doesn’t need to waste their time with me,” ellie’s eyes diverted to the field beside the sidewalk, staring into the darkness while you finally glanced over to her. “i’ve been awful to you, even before our–” her hands gesture in front of her, “you know.”

“we’ve both been awful to one another, ellie. somehow none of that changes anything for me, does it for you?” her eyes found yours, now under the glow of the lamp posts her green eyes bore into yours and her expression was one you hadn’t seen before.

“i don’t want it to,” she started, keeping her gaze on you as you two remained walking forward. her mind was racing, she had been too focused on how she treated you that she didn’t even take into account that it was a two sided street. if she was being honest with herself, she never paid mind to how mean you could be right back to her. it finally registered that no matter what you did to her, her feelings for you would never dissipate. “i meant what i said that night.”

“about what?”

“about not wanting to see you upset,” her feet stopped, and you only took another step before noticing, turning to stand in front of her. there was a moment of silence as you looked at her trying to find her words. “i really am sorry for everything.”

you approached her, standing just inches away. “i’m sorry too,” her eyes wandered up from the ground and into yours yet again, “we really were assholes to each other, huh?” you chuckled lightly, trying to alleviate the heavy mood that had settled around both of you.

ellie couldn’t help but laugh as well, “yeah, we were.” your hand reached up to her cheek gently and she leaned her head into your hand. “but that all stops, okay? i promise.” ellie’s hand grabbed the wrist that was holding her cheek, rubbing her thumb across your soft skin.

“i’m not promising anything,” you joked, the tone in your voice going up. “it’s fun to see you all flustered.”

“oh, so it’s like that?” ellie’s lips turned up at your words and she grasped for your hips but you snaked away. you giggled, playfully turning around to escape her grasp. you made it only a few feet before she had come up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. you both fumbled over one another, rolling into the grass beside the sidewalk all while laughing at each other.

“ellie!” you giggled again, the grass tickling every part of your exposed skin. ellie had landed on top of you, her arm planted firmly in the grass beside your head as she looked down on you and the smile on her face never faltering, along with yours.

in this moment, it was only you and ellie. everything around the two of you seemed to disappear as you longingly stared into each other. a piece of her hair had fallen from her tight bun and you gently tucked it behind her ear, running your hand along her cheek again. “can i take you on a date? a real one?” she asked in a whisper, never taking her eyes off of you.

“you don’t even have to ask,” you answered her in the same tone, your chest swelling with her every word. ellie leaned down and planted a soft, loving kiss on your lips. something unlike she had ever done. every kiss you two had shared was sloppy, desperate and full of lust. but this time, it was sweet, slow and passionate. her hand cupped your cheek before she finally pulled away, resting her forehead on yours.

“if our coaches could see us now,” she laughed, which made you do the same. you wrapped your arms around her neck as you always do, the warmth from her radiating like the sun.

“bet they’d still try to bench us–” another spring of laughs came from the both of you before ellie finally pulled herself off of you. standing up she stretched her arm to help you up, which you took happily. “do you wanna stay over?”

the question was like music to ellie’s ears, “i’d love to–” she planted a delicate kiss on your cheek.

“good good,” you trailed, turning around to look at your dorm building which was easily more than a few yards away by now. being around ellie brought out the competitiveness in you yet again but this time it was more playful. “wanna race?”

“seriously?” she turned her head, the smile on ellie’s face was now permanent in your presence.

“what? you scared?” you mocked her lightly, tapping her shoulder and she scoffed at the accusation.

“you know what? yeah, let’s race. i bet you–”

you took off sprinting, even in your slippers you had managed to get a great head start. you could hear ellie’s footsteps behind you, slowly catching up. “hey, that’s cheating!” she shouted from behind you. while she watched you win the childish bet, she felt stupid for not allowing herself this type of happiness before, but if she had the chance to go back and change anything, she never would.

epilogue

#ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #modern!ellie williams

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seneon · 8 days ago

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( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS .𖥔 ݁

CHAPTER O1. SOMETHING AND NOTHING.

ᝰ SYNOPSIS . . . waters of the garden lake were soaked with the colour of wine red. spells and energies then comes undone at the feeling of the blood in the water.

ᝰ CONTENTS . . . warnings of blood and a sword blade, mentions of murders and minor gore ( really small and short ) wc of 1700+ series masterlist.

THE MOON IS LIKE A RARE BLOSSOM UNFURLING IN THE DARK. it reveals its petals of luminous light, inviting the night creatures to come forth and revel in its beauty. the celestial pearl adorns the dark sky like a silver crown, casting its regal glow upon the earth.

it watches over every living creature of the lands and waters, always keeping a close watch on their breathing souls. what a hardworking guardian the moon is to watch over everyone during the dusk. truly.

stars are its companion. they pranced around the dark heavens, simply leaving behind trails of their twinkling beauty to light up the black heavens. the moon and stars rule the night together.

this much was certain to a man who seeks solace in the essence of the night. the moon favours him, regardless of its eyes on every single move executed. it watches as the man's feet carry him across the grassy field, where it gives the earth unwelcoming thuds of his heavy footsteps over and over again.

touya todoroki gave the soils of the earth a gift so unpleasant that it stains the grass beneath his foot the colours of the deepest wine red. they fell from his skin like the village raindrops, except this was no blessing for neither him nor the earth.

it was a curse. a curse that touya's poor soul has to carry and bring forth onto this world where he knows there wasn't even a place for a sinner like him to revel in the blazing flames of hell.

the footsteps he took were so heavy that it felt like he was being chained down by all the souls that sought revenge onto his own soul. they held him down with their fingers wrapped around his ankle as if they were pulling him into the underworld where their souls could never rest.

if anything, touya todoroki does not bat an eyelash at these haunting visions. he does not spare a single attention to give these nightmares a care. from such a young age he has stained his fingers along with his innocent soul with the warm blood of victims.

there wasn't any choice for him anyways. the man simply feeds on the sight of blood or the feeling of blood on his skin to live. it was as if his whole fate has been twisted since the beginning where he has been created to be just like this.

touya walks his way through the grassy field, his heavy feet coming to a halt when he spots a rather pleasant sight of nature.

the sounds of the calming water is enough to temporarily take his mind off of the events that played through today. touya stares the reflection of the moon in the waters of the lake for such a long time that he forgot he is even standing. his legs starts to feel sore.

with a bird that feels like it wanted to fly through the night to experience the same nightly beauty, it made a sound that struck touya out of his trance. and once again, his feet moves forwards to the side of the lake, the bird giving touya a few friendly chirps before flying away.

does the bird not know that the black-haired man is not to be meddled with? he could simply strike an arrow through the body of the flying creature and it would be a supper for the man. well, no matter. it did touya a little favour.

he takes a seat near the lake, just a little bit far from the edges. the sleeves of his kimono is stained with the essence of an unfortunate soul.

touya gently dips half of his arm into the calm waters and rubs his sleeves with his other hand’s fingers so the blood could free themselves from being tied to the clothing he wears. even if they were dried up, they still came off.

that is good, because he does not want any piece of the people he killed stuck onto him as remembrance. he never wants a piece of them. his mind is enough to carry every single detail of his murders. there is no need for a physical reminder when a mental reminder is already so prominent.

dried blood stains are lifted from his sleeves. they danced in the waters, creating a sort of pattern before dispersing to run down the long ends of the lake.

when touya does not want a physical piece of his victim's on him, he doesn't seem to mind it all that much if their blood is stained all over his blade. his katana, his one and only companion that has been with him through thick and thin. touya loves the colour of blood red on his silver blade.

thought right now it seems way too dirty, even with his preference to keep his blade as it is. so he dips his sword into the lake and holds it down. the gentle waters will wash the crying blood away. they will wipe his blade clean and grant him purity.

but will it truly be pure as he has been wishing for over two decades?

it shall always remain a mystery to the curious creatures of the night, including the moon that shone upon touya's tainted soul. its silver hues veils the man like a bride in marriage, covering and protecting him as if he is the moon's child.

touya's fingers lightly traces down his cold blade, the blood sticking onto his skin before he dips them into the lake again to finish the cleansing.

he shouldn't be touching his blade like that. not when the wails and screams of the vengeful starts to surface at the back of his mind, coming in louder and louder as the seconds passes by agonisingly.

with so much blood that stains his blade dirty, the blood is so prominent in the water. it left a trail, a remembrance that their souls are now probably free from being stuck to him all this time. touya watched as the blood danced down the waters.

the stars winked at you from the endless arch of void-black beyond the moon's corona. in places they were birthstone-blue and beautiful, glittering in their heavenly finery.

they had a faint, silver tint and they. all of them were beacons of hope for all the lost souls of the world, or so you simply thought. perhaps in a way the twinkling sparkles of heaven are the deceased which you have erased from the footholds of the earth.

maybe they follow you around just to see where the evil in them have disappeared to.

you walked along the grass, lush and soft. it is soft, yet dry, and it crunches under your footsteps where your sandals have kissed the ground. the river water flows at your side, waters flowing smoothly as if they are eating away at your nightly anxiousness.

tonight, it seemed like the moon nor the dark will take your side to favour you. however, two fireflies came dancing around you. they remind you of your silly dreams as a little girl— to be like the carefree fireflies that roam the dark night to emit a glowing ball of light that carries the dreams of the slumbering.

it's just your anxious soul, heaven's sprinkles, and two fireflies that accompanied you in your walk down the river. nothing could go wrong in this moment. right?

a string pulled at your nose and it visibly crawled into your sense of smell. soon, the fireflies have bid you their calming good-byes and you are left alone with the stars and the sounds of the river flowing.

it is a scent that tickles your senses and finds an uncomfortable haven in your soul. a vivid memory replays in your mind over and over again. the smell of metal that coats your nose, hot red liquid kissing your skin and painting them as if you were a canvas.

it is blood that triggered your soul. and like a snap of realisation, you knew it is not the blood that belongs to the normal. it belongs to multiple, in silent cries for help as your feet moves to the edge of the river. far down the river lies a lake, and the smell is prominent, coming from the lake.

your fingers are dipped into the river water and the uneasiness crawls up onto your skin like thousands of spiders making their way up your fingers and to your arms. soon, they will make their way into your body, eating from the outside to nest on the inside.

it is blood, the blood of the innocent. so many innocent souls screamed in agony in the waters.

they were all faint, but it was enough with your magic skills to tell you that the blood had been washed off in the same waters. it comes from the lake, since no other individual is basking in the same river as you were.

a crunch that echoes to make an appearance in your ears has you shooting your attention where it came from. the sharp sounds of a blade unsheathing is enough to get you back on your feet as you turn your body to face the person that has come across you.

“who are you?” you voiced out, holding your arms in place to gather a few energies around your fingers in preparations to cast a spell or two.

but somehow, the energy you gathered around your fingers cracked and flickered upon the lingering waters that stained your hands wet. it makes you falter for a second, then the sharp tip of the blade pecks the skin on your throat.

“move, and this goes through your throat,” touya todoroki’s voice is laced with the deadliest of poison as he spreads a pinch of darkness into your soul. it's his way of greeting people, apparently.

and your pure energy boils your body as if you were being burned alive. this is the time to shut the gates to your flowing energy before this mysterious man's dark energy poisons your pure one.

touya narrows his gaze when they are locked onto your eyes, seeking some sort of understanding that the night is a moment of solace. it has your hands lowering the moment you see how dark one's shadows could be. this man's shadow is so dark you swore they would come to live and roam around the dark nights.

“you're… broken.”

your words made touya tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword as he lowered it. his blade is far from kissing your skin any longer as he allowed the moon along with the starts to bask in a sense of familiar comfort.

“you’re broken as well.”

ᝰ TAGS . . . @w1nterelle @hyoismbbg @angeliicheartt @kyoghurts @heartkaji @skiiyoomin @choccorin @phtmmsqrde @harleys1nhawaii @va-3

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naomihatake · 1 year ago

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In search of freedom (Ch. 2)

2. The wheel of death

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa. This chapter follows the events of the second episode.

Warnings for this chapter: canon typical violence, kidnapping

Word count: 3,1k

Theme song: “Haunted Isles” by Derek Fiechter (click on the link)

A/N: I almost didn't believe I wrote so much considering the process felt so slow and kind of annoying. Not the best chapter I've written so far, not something I'm necessarily proud of, but I wanted to follow OPLA's plot. I know 3k words isn't much, but I already prepared pieces of the next chapters that I'm genuinely excited to share with you. Half of this part is filled with action, meanwhile, the next chapter will be full of psychological analysis and a lot of thoughts + more interactions between the reader and Zoro.

The reader will be referred to as "Witch" from now on, because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

The view made her smile as she looked at the dark blue nuance of the sea, her eyes sparkling just like the moon that was hidden by the gray clouds at that time. Her heart beat so peacefully, in sync with the waves of the water, and with every inhale she could feel that sensation taking over her senses. Everytime she got on a ship, the feeling grew stronger and stronger and she doubted there was a limit.

Freedom had no limit and she wondered if that's what it felt like.

"We're not a crew," Zoro and Nami — the woman with orange hair — said in unison.

Luffy was dead set on calling four people a crew, despite the fact that it was a decision he kind of made on his own.

Zoro's tall figure disappeared inside the cabin, where he intended to nap. She was intrigued; it was the same man who made a fool of those marines back at the tavern. The witch was confused about the soft clinck sounds coming from him, until she realized it was just his three golden earrings hitting one another at each move.

Luffy's last crewmate smiled, endeared by the unfaltering enthusiasm their supposed captain was radiating. He was like a ball of energy since they got on Nami's ship and sailed away with help from Koby.

"So, you're a witch," Luffy excitedly turned towards her.

"You could call me that, I think," she shrugged.

"Do you do magic? Like, potions in a cauldron and spells with candles—"

"I think you know too many stereotypes," she let out a long sigh.

Nami was on her knees in front of the safe box, ear glued to the locker as she rolled it between her fingers.

"So you won't chop us into pieces and boil us?" She arched her eyebrow, unintentionally feeding Luffy's crazy ideas.

"You—!"

"No, I don't."

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and pointer finger.

"What about you two talking after I finish unlocking this? I need silence."

The witch sat down, resting her body against a barrel as she watched Nami's careful actions. Now that she thinks about it, she never saw someone so sure of themselves while opening up this kind of locker, which meant it wasn't the first time she did it either. She presented herself as a thief.

Luffy was agitated, roaming around and stretching, a big smile on his lips. He was holding back from babbling until he forgot he had to keep his mouth shut.

"I almost can't believe I already have a crew and we got our hands on the Grand Line map."

"Luffy," the witch whispered so she wouldn't disturb Nami. "You do know none of us promised to take part in this adventure, right?"

She was trying her best to be gentle about the topic, especially since he seemed so happy he couldn't hold back at all. Luffy had no filter anymore, saying whatever came to mind, but she supposed he's always like that.

"Maybe you'll change your mind," he beamed.

"I appreciate your help a lot, kid, and I'll try my best to help you if I get the chance until we get to the next destination, but I don't know about that," she shook her head.

"You said the same thing at the tavern: that it's dangerous."

"And I still didn't change my mind. It is dangerous."

"Can you be silent?" Nami accentuated her words in annoyance.

"Sorry," the witch muttered.

The orange haired woman glued her ear to the lock again, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together in concentration. One strand of hair fell over her blue eyes but she didn't mind it while she continued opening the locker up.

A small click vibrated shyly through the air and Nami snapped up.

"It's open!" she shouted.

From inside the box, Nami took a long cylinder and opened it. The witch moved behind her and looked at the map of the Grand Line, inspecting it with the eye of someone who wasn't an expert at all. She was focusing on the navigator's explanations so intensely, she didn't notice when the other two approached. Zoro's swords brushed by her leg, moving her entire attention to him.

The sound of fireworks filled the air.

"The marines? When did they find us?" Nami furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's with the red smoke?" the witch found herself asking right after she started seeing in nuances.

"It smells weird," Luffy muttered.

She found out it was true only after she inhaled it and her vision was getting blurry. Everything happened so fast: Nami falling first, then Zoro saying something she couldn't hear. Her body got soft and in less than a few seconds, she fell unconscious after she caught a glimpse of a pirate ship.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch rubbed her wrists together, but her attempt to escape from the rope digging into her skin was futile. She was sitting in an open chest, her knees pulled close to her chest; both her legs and wrists were tied and she was growing tired of it.

They were kidnapped by some pirate clowns and thrown into what he called the Green Room. Luffy was still in the main tent, and what was happening to him was a secret between the clowns and the dozens of people who had their legs chained like animals.

The Green Room was filled with strange things and old furniture and cushions. Golden bulbs shined and reflected into some square mirrors and another large one with skulls as ornaments. There was a chair in front of a desk, where cups were placed next to some photos. A creepy white mannequin stood right next to the chest she was sitting in, wearing an elegant purple scarf. Something that imitated a chandelier was hanging in the middle of the roof, made out of big flower cups of white thin material. Zoro's swords were left against one of the cushions, where her two identical guns were.

A barely audible groan left the swordsman's lips as he struggled against the rope that glued his wrists to a big wheel.

"They're too strong even for you," Nami commented in a shallow tone.

Both of her hands clutched at the metal bars of the wide bird cage she was stuck in.

"I need to get out of here and kill some clowns," he muttered, focused on escaping. "I've got out of worse."

"With that I have to agree," the witch sighed.

"I saw a town when I got out of the tent… what was left of it after Buggy destroyed it."

"You mean, when you tried to leave us for dead?" Zoro grimaced after pulling at the ropes again.

The witch was like a bystander, her eyes running from one to the other. They were seriously insane, ready to argue in a life-or-death situation.

"You were picking up a fight you couldn't win," Nami snapped her head towards the swordsman.

"I know your type: if there's nothing to gain, you're out."

"Says the one who runs after Berries—"

"Shut it, you two," the witch intervened, letting out a groan. "We can argue and throw venom at each other after we get out of here."

"If we get out of here," Nami retorted.

"We do because I have too much of an ego to play in a circus created by a maniac," the witch mumbled.

After a few moments of silence, no sounds coming from outside the room they were left in, Nami got a lock pin out of her boot.

"Didn't they take all of them?" Zoro asked.

"They only took three," she smirked for a brief moment.

The witch leaned her torso forward and, despite the painful tug of the rope, she tried to raise them to the belt of her pants. She snuck her fingers between the two pieces of clothing and bit at her bottom lip when her skin started stinging painfully.

Finally, she got a small pocket knife out and grinned.

"I thought you were a witch," the swordsman gazed at her.

"You'll see magic once I get out of here," she joked.

A loud scream ripped through the air and it made all of them snap their heads towards the door.

Was that Luffy?

The witch's blood froze in her veins.

"You better hurry," Zoro whispered.

The witch gulped and wielded the knife between her fingers until the sharp edge grazed the rope around her wrists. She moved the knife up and down, putting as much pressure as the position allowed her. Nami, on the other hand, continued rolling the lock pick into the padlock.

Now that the woman stared intently at the mannequin while cutting the rope — even if way too slowly —, the doll had a scary smile painted in black on its porcelain face. Why was it looking back at her?

Minutes of unsuccessful cutting ropes and rolling lock picks, after another groan coming out of Zoro's mouth, he spoke:

"Someone's coming."

"Keep them talking, I need more time," Nami turned her head.

"Same here."

"I don't talk, I hit things," he grunted.

"Then change your hobby," the witch huffed.

The witch's eyes widened and she leaned back against the chest, so her arms and pocket knife would be hidden. Her heart was beating painfully fast in between her ribs and it was almost ridiculous, how she was sweating and the clothes started getting uncomfortable.

A monocycle creaked under the man who just got inside the room. He passed right by her when he came in, which sent her into an inner crisis. Wearing dark colored clothes and an unbuttoned coat without sleeves, the man hopped off and let the object fall to the floor.

She had no clue why the pirate chose to get close to the swordsman, who looked at him dead in the eye.

"Remember me?" the pirate spoke.

"No. Must be some other homicidal, unicycle-riding clown."

The witch was reminded you pay for the audacity of speaking up to your enemy when you're locked up; Zoro got instantly hit by the pirate's fist into the stomach. However, he didn't give that clown any satisfaction, his lips glued.

She eyed Nami, who was turned with her back at the lock of her cage, trying to open it without even looking at it. Damn, it wasn't good.

The witch couldn't hear whatever the fuck that clown was muttering at Zoro's ear, her fingers moving the knife faster, a tight knot settling in her throat as adrenaline pumped through her.

Nami made eye contact with the swordsman and the pirate who called himself Cabaji turned towards her.

"I've never met a clown. I thought they're supposed to be funny. Do some acrobatics on your monocycle, maybe it can help the time pass."

The witch shouldn't have opened her mouth in the first place, but if Nami was caught, it could've ended badly. Maybe it was the fault of the adrenaline, but pissing off that idiot with three strands of mint green hair made her smirk victoriously.

People who get angry when you step on their ego have always been the funniest creatures alive.

Of course, the reaction she received wasn't a good one. The pirate took two knives from his belt and stepped closer. She refused to look away and nothing could erase that grin off her face.

"Still doesn't ring a bell," Zoro caught his attention again.

Bad move. One of Cabaji's knives cut through the air and sunk into the wood the swordsman was glued to. Any other sounds have immediately been silenced.

"You followed us day and night for weeks through the Goa kingdom, never relenting, like some kind of demon."

Oh, so that's who Roronoa Zoro really was; the witch dared to allow her curiosity to act like a sponge about the new information. Interesting. The swordsman was a demon and a bounty hunter. Amazing combo.

He was probably hated by every pirate on the sea.

The woman tried her best to focus on the pocket knife between her fingers, but she couldn't help the fear crawling up into her skin. They had to get out of there alive and, preferably, with their limbs attached to their body.

After a few heavy steps, Cabaji gripped at the edge of the wooden wheel and in less than two seconds, the swordsman was rotating like a toy. The pirate walked roughly two meters away and then continued tossing knives, each time managing to avoid Zoro's flesh.

Nami and the witch looked at each other for a brief moment and then continued with their previous work.

When the rope finally got cut, she looked at the maniac pirate who didn't stop with his play yet. She held back her reactions, instead choosing to look at the swordsman who was rotating in the air and it made her pale. Time passed by too slowly and she slowly let out a long sigh when the wheel stopped from moving.

"You really don't fear death, do you?" Cabaji huffed.

He wasn't satisfied by the lack of reaction he received from Zoro who looked like he's gone through that three times a day for years. How did he manage to keep such a poker face?

"No, I just don't fear you."

Good, make him corner you.

The pirate didn't think twice before he threw a knife that aimed right above the swordsman's wrist. Their enemy wasn't careful enough, since the rope could now be easily cut.

Cabaji walked towards Zoro — another mistake. Nami already opened her cage and she was silently getting out. The witch didn't hesitate when she stopped pretending like she still had her wrists tied together. Clutching at the knife between her fingers, she raised her hand and tossed the sharp object through the air, aiming at the man's back.

"Thinking you're the only one who can play with knives, clown?" she huffed.

Cabaji turned and it was Nami's opportunity to kick his stomach with her foot, which made him fall on his back, the knife digging further into his flesh, cutting through his ribs and lung.

Finally, the witch's anxiety lowered now that one of their men was down. Now, who knows how many more they had to defeat.

"I didn't take you for a criminal."

Nami took one of the knives stuck in the wheel and cut Zoro's rope and then came to her other crewmate, helping with the rope around her ankles.

"I was desperate and he was annoying," the witch shrugged while she rubbed at her aching wrists.

When she found the freedom of moving again, she got out of the chest and took all the knives she found, including the ones from the wheel.

"What's the plan?" Zoro asked as he arranged his swords back at his hip.

"I say we beat the shit out of every clown we see," Nami grinned.

The witch smiled after she put each knife at her belt, rolling another one between her fingers. With her guns sitting at each side of her hip and the bonus of adrenaline, it felt like nothing could stop her.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The sharp edge of the weapon broke the glass after she threw it right in the middle of Luffy's aquarium — or whatever that thing was supposed to be.

"Luffy!" she shouted his name.

The glass wall of his cage shattered and the water splashed around, the straw hat coughing, his face pale. He was on the floor, soaked to the bone. His straw hat was so close to him,yet so far away. Luffy vomited the cylinder with the map and despite the nausea he was experiencing, he crawled to his hat.

He put himself in danger this entire time and chose not to let go of the Grand Line map, but that object held much more importance to him. The witch froze for a mere moment, confused, but when she wanted to get closer and get the map away from Buggy, a pirate with a sword came sprinting towards her.

"Witch!" she heard a gruff voice.

She dodged it before her head could get cut off and sank a knife into his stomach, only to raise the agony after she hit the man in the same spot, blood gushing out of his wound and soaking his clothes.

With a swift motion, her fingers grabbed at one of her revolvers. She fired at Buggy who was a breath away from touching the map, but didn't pay enough attention to another attack towards her.

A sword's edge shone in the corner of her eye and no matter how fast she was, she couldn't dodge that. Her eyes widened and she waited for the pain to inflict into her body. The pirate froze in place and his sword slipped between his fingers. When he fell to his knees, from behind him there was Zoro who was using a three-sword style.

Definitely a demon; but in a good way.

The witch nodded at him. She didn't train properly in the past year and she lost some speed on the way. She hasn't been in such a situation for a long time.

With other two pirates attacking them from the sides, she protected his blind spot while he killed another enemy with a mere flick of his swords. Another loud shot rang through the air and another man fell down, the center of his heart pierced.

"Buggy needs to have a weakness," the witch said.

"And what is it?"

The answer was right before their eyes: Luffy managed to get back to his feet while they were busy. He used his ability to elongate his arm and grabbed at the leg who was moving in the air, only to throw it in a chest. Nami closed it and grinned mischievously.

That was it.

The witch rolled another knife between her fingers and analyzed the detached hand that was rotating around her. At the perfect time, she threw it in the middle of its palm with enough force to send it into another chest, Nami locking it.

They focused on getting each part of Buggy's body stuck in any suitable place, be it a chest, a barrel or under a bucket. For as long as they got rid of that maniac, everything was fine.

She let out a sigh when only the clown's head remained intact, now laughing pitifully. Zoro bent down and grabbed the head, locking it into a box and putting a rock on top of it.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

A/N: Thank you so much for the comments and the support <3

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58

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mayasaurusss · 6 months ago

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I want headcanons on dating a werewolf!lottie 🫡🫡🫡 like she would be an amazing werewolf so fluffy big and silly pls

A/N: Very sorry @sokestry, as always I started the headcanons without reading the full request before... I really should stop and think before doing these, but any other attempt I did today was MEDIOCRE so I kept this. I can make another set of headcanons more centered on the relationship, if you want! These past weeks have been rough on me, so blame university for my bad writing!

Warnings: fluff, implied start of relationship.

"Anyways, I'm sure there's nothing in it. You were probably just high. And why where you even there in the first place?" you joke half heartedly with Van. "And I continue to say, there was something! I am sure of it! And, that's none of your business". Van sits back in her chair, blushing slightly "Were you trying to recreate some scenes from your stupid slasher movies or were you hooking up with Tai?" Lottie joins the 'let's bother Van' game.

There was a rumor in town: the woods were haunted. Or at least, that's wat everyone who returned from them said. Couples which wanted to spend some 'fun time' togheter, groups of friends wanting to feel the thirll of something begin with them in the woods, all said the same.

At night, when everyone's asleep, something roams the woods, searching for introuders.

"Uh, let's not talk about that. I tell you, I heard something in the woods" she continues, "Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you say Van". That last phrase must have made her mad, 'cause her fists slam heavly on the table and her voice becomes slightly more loud than usual. "If you are that sure of yourself then, come on! Go! I want to see if your shit eating grin will still be there when you go into the woods!".

Lottie sips on her drink, "I think she's right. Besides, it's not safe to go out at night alone. Who knows which creeps are around".

Lottie, your... 'friend' has always been at your side, ever since the start of college. Lately, her demeanor has changed: once she used to be more shy and reserved but her personality has taken a new turn around two months ago. Now, she couldn't stop begin around you and trying to protect you. Probably, Van's challenge was making her uncomfortable.

"What, are you a chicken?" Van ignores Lottie, "You will understand what I'm talking about once you go there".

The moon is high in the sky tonight, like a giant white marble piercing through the dark. The air feels cold, too freezing to be an early summer evening.

You try not to mind the countless of spines slashing at your irritated skin, which by now has started to leave a faint trail of blood down your leg.

Annoyance fills your brain and you mentally face palm yourself: you should have known that it was a bad idea agreeing to Van's.

No matter, you're here now.

The woods are eerily queit. The air feels suddenly thick and heavy. Every sound the forest made before has gone queit and there's onyl the sound of your own breath. And that of a branch snapping behind you.

The blood in your veins freezes and you halt your movments. How the fuck can a branch snap on it's own?

You quickly whip your head around to be met by a pair of golden eyes. You can't make out what this thing is, just that big.

It hunches over you, almost kneeling on the ground, trapped in between the pine branches.

Tired of it's position, it shrugs off and stands on it's back legs. Now you can make it more clearly: it's tall, really tall.

You tell your libms to move, to run, to spend every single amout of energy you have left to make a run for it. Anything to stay alive, anything at all. But you don't, you can't.

Your limbs feel like lead and your body is almost paralized, like a deer in headlights.

The creature ducks under a high branch and comes back up stumbling over it's legs. It's so tall that it can't move as freely has it wants. Nevertheless, it's agile enough to be in front of you in seconds.

For how much you can see, it's covered in fur and has a long mound.

It releases a puff of air on your face, like it's releasing some kind of tension from it's chest. It comes even closer, as if it's any more possible, and now you're eyeing it's chest. Close enough that you can see each individual fur and how the night breeze moves it.

Unconciusly you meet it's eyes, expecting to find something horrifying, something that will tear your face open; only to be meet with what looks to be a... dog.

A big, giant, fluffy dog. Well, it resembles more a brownish wolf. It has an eerie human look to it, like it can understand your fear completely.

It's has deep brown eyes -the yellow colour must've been the reflection of the fallen flashlight-, on it's forehead there's a small scar without any fluff covering it.

The big, giant, fluffy dog gets closer to you, it starts to smell around your face. It's attentive, trying to unederstand if you are a threath or not. If it knows you, or not.

You look in diesbelief when the big, giant, fluffy dog starts to wave it's tail behind it's back. In just a matter of seconds, it's on you: all that you can feel is it's fur on you, heavy breathing, the thump of it's tail and an occasional lick on your face.

With curiosity, you reach a hand behind it's left ear and scratch.

The creature falls to it's side and for a second you think it got hurt in some way, but it has adjusted so that you can pet it's belly.

When you do, it's starts to let out some light wines of approval. And you are even more confused.

You'd wish you could stay here longer, that you could spend more time with this thing -for how crazy that sounds- but you're getting cold -that's on you for not bringing a jacket- and most importantly, you fear that if you accidentally do the wrong move, the next thing that that thing will do is ripping your guts open.

You wait for the creature to be comfortable enough, then, ever so slowly you get up, careful to not upset it -or to not stomp on it's tail-.

Just some minutes later, it wakes up. Cold and alone.

The morning after your little adventure, you're begin pestered by Van, "So? Is Miss 'I'm not scared of anything' convinced now? Or did you chiken out?".

You can't let her know she was right, or you'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm not sure what you saw, but I didn't see nor heard anything" you say while trying not to show your nervousness. "Yeah sure. You have an habit of lying; I remember when we saw 'The Conjuring'. You acted all cool then the day aft-"

Lottie falls heavly on the chair next to yours and hides her face in her arms.

Both you and Van look at eachother before turning to Lottie, "Hey Lottie? Sweetie? Is everything ok?" she visibly shudders at the pet name, but tries to play it off. "Yes...Just a bit tired, that's all".

Lottie has a strange look to herself today. During summer she usually wears one of those skimpish outfits of hers, but today she's covered head to toe. It looks like she hasn't slept all night.

"Uhm... ok...if you say so", Lottie seems stranger than usual. She's looking at you with a certain sparkle in her eyes. And, as if you hurt her somehow.

Some weeks go by with Lottie behaving ever so strangely. When you've had enough, you decide to crash at her house without telling her both to see what's she's been up to and to make her annoyed.

It's eight pm when you climb and knock on Lottie's window, startling the poor girl. She's wearing a black tank top and a pair of shorts. She looks almost angry at the fact that you're here.

"Why are you here?" she huffs at you while falling back on her bed. "Oh come on Lottie. You've been acting weirder than usual, I just wanted to check ok you. That's what friends do".

A small whine leaves Lottie, "We... We are not friends". Freezing your movements, you look back at her. "What are we then, Lottie?"

She's about to answer you, when her words die in her throat. A shiver travels up her body as her body starts to morph.

When you try to get closer to her and help, she shows you back on her bed and tries to run away from you. But her legs are too weak.

You watch as your best friend becomes something else. The second she starts to change, something in your mind snaps and links everything together.

The transformation is so terrifying that you can't watch. When you look back, your best friend has morphed into the creature from the woods.

She looks almost ashamed of herself, trying to make herself become smaller and to evade your eyes. Her tail fits snugly into her legs while from her throat leave whines.

She almost jumps up when she feels your hand on her. You ran your fingers on her brownish fur while holding her.

You try to not show your terror, and hold her closer than possible.

"Don't worry... You're ok...". You stay with her until morning, when her body becomes hers again.

As soon as she returns back to normal, Lottie throws her arms on your shoulders and snugs into your neck. Tears stain your shirt and she sobs uncontrollably "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I-I'm this ugly thing... I was... I was scared of hurting you. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I did".

You sit in silence, trying to comfort her at the best of your abilities.

"So... Why did you jump on me that night?" Lottie's breath halts and you can feel her cheeks heating up on your skin.

"Huh... You really like me then!" Lottie shudders in your arms "Stooop".

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie mathews x reader #yellowjackets fic #yj fic #yj

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bts-0t-7 · 1 year ago

Text

Moonlight Sanctuary | OT7

Pair: Werewolf OT7 x F Reader

Summary: In a chase, you find a cottage in the midst of the woods. Barging in, you found seven men at your aid and you never expected things to turn out the way it did. But you were forever grateful for how it did.

Genre: Fluff, werewolf au, human reader

Chapter Warnings: Violence, abuse

You aren’t alone. If you ever need a helping hand, our fellow social services, friends, and family will always be there. If anybody is going to be insensitive on this topic on my blog, you will be blocked. Borahae💜

WC: 2297

The moon hung low in the night sky as you ran in the opposite direction of your house. Well, your brother’s house. You had never considered it a home the moment things took a drastic turn after your parent’s death. A home is a place where one feels safe and secure but this is… this was no home.

You had no sense of direction as you blasted through thick foliage and wet mud. The sky was dark and thunder boomed when you left but now it was pouring. Drenched from head to toe, you felt your anxiety rise as the sky darkened and your lungs collapsed. You paused at the foot of a tree, bending down to catch your breath. You had no idea where you were going. All you knew was that you needed to run.

Run. Run. Run or they will catch you again.

The air was still with your heavy breathing and loud splatters of rain when you heard rustling sounds. Suddenly blinded by the onslaught of light, you made out the rough shape of your bulky brother. Fearing for your life, you quickly stumbled up and ran again. You didn’t dare look back but you dared to look up.

The moon was shining bright tonight, despite the darkness that was chasing you. It casted an ethereal glow over the dense forest and if you tilted your head just right, you could see little rainbows in the making. You ran through the trees, heart pounding against your chest. You didn’t know how far or how close you were to your brother and his gang. At the same time, you didn’t know where the fuck you were. You could just imagine being eaten up by some sort of nocturnal animal in here.

“BITCH! Come back here! Who said you could run away, huh?”

You tried to pump your legs harder - to give you more strength. But you found yourself short of any sort of energy. You didn’t have dinner and it was during your break did you sneak past the back door and run away from them, hastily slipping on your clothes for some decency. You carried nothing with you - just you, underwear, and clothes - which is essentially whatever you were wearing.

“Ey! I swear you’re going to get it from me when we catch you! FUCK, you’re done!”

The sound of your own harsh breathing drowned out the haunting echoes of your abusive brother’s threats. For years, you endured his cruelty, but tonight - tonight you had enough. He sold your body. Sold your body to his friends. You had sobbed and begged with every last shred of dignity you had but they never listened. You didn’t know where you were going but you knew you couldn’t stay there any longer.

You stumbled through the woods on clumsy feet, the darkness of the foliage seemed to close in around you. You tried to keep your anxiety at bay, knowing it would do you more harm than good if you started to panic. Branches clawed at the exposed skin of your feet, the ground beneath the flimsy slippers you hastily wore was uneven and treacherous the deeper you went. Fear gnawed at your insides and despair threatened to overtake you. Breathing harshly, you tried to keep yourself calm.

Just as you thought that all hope was lost and you would have to be running forever or be caught, your attention focused on the soft glow of light emitting from a cottage house. Without thinking, you ran towards it and pulled against the handle, trying every one until you found an open door and slammed it shut behind you.

Sliding onto the floor, you placed your head between your legs, breathing through your mouth. You were tired and bruised. You heard before you saw someone stand in front of you, shadow covering half of your hunched over body. Your breath caught as you slowly took in the sight before you. You were the centre of their attention, their eyes reflecting the silver light of the moon. You were sure you weren’t breathing. THese were the folklore of your little village - stories passed down by the elders from generation to generation.

Werewolves.

Nobody believed that there were such mystical beings living amongst you. But you were certain that they were exactly what you believed. These seven men that surrounded you brought around them an aura of power and grace.

You could easily tell by the tall and commanding figure to your left that that was the leader of the pack. He stepped forward, gait slow and steady, approaching you as if you were a scared prey. But you were quite the opposite. As you looked at each of them, they surveyed you quietly. Looking at each of them in their eyes, you felt a connection deep in your blood - a spark of recognition of what belongs.

“Are you in danger?” he asked, voice low and soothing.

You nodded, voice trembling as you replied, “My - my brother, he and his friends, they - they -”

The door was suddenly banged open as you stumbled into the man’s hold. You felt a sense of protection and comfort you had never known when you were with them. They surrounded you again, this time, as a protection barrier between you and your brother.

You curled deeper into yourself.

Without hesitation, a man grabbed your cheeks and forced you to look at his smiling eyes. “Hey! My name is Jimin! What’s yours?”

“Y/N, come here now.” Your brother commanded. Shivering in your spot against Jimin’s body, you shook your head and rejected him. You didn’t want to.

“Come here now or you will regret it.” You shook your head. You didn’t want to go back to the life you once had. If it was considered life.

“Come here and I won’t kill these ‘men’. They are vicious monsters, you know that.”

Your head turned when you heard your name being called. “You are safe here. We won’t let anyone hurt you now.” You nodded and turned away from your brother, clinging onto Jimin’s shirt tightly.

“It’s funny how you claim to care for your sister when you sold her off. It is funny how you think you would be able to hurt us.” The man with cat-like eyes formed into slits. He certainly looked more like a cat than a wolf.

“HAH!” Your brother laughed maniacally. “You are a bunch of monsters. Werewolves? Ridiculous! You are not wolves nor are you humans. Monsters is an appropriate word to use for paws.”

“Shall we let her choose then?” The man with a fluffy head of hair said.

The silence that followed was deafening. The tension in the air was at its peak and both sides were ready for an attack.

“Come now, Y/N. Let’s go home, I’ll get you some ice cream if you cooperate now.” Your brother held his hand out, palm facing up - placating. He didn’t want to lose his face in front of his friends and males who didn’t even know you.

But you refused. Your head went to Jimin’s neck as you stood up, trying to hook a leg onto his waist.

Keyword: trying.

You were just too short for him.

The man with fluffy hair chuckled lowly at your attempts. Quickly hooking a hand under your thighs, he lifted you up onto Jimin’s hip. As he left, going back to his spot, your hand shot out to hold him in place, accidentally pulling against his hair instead. Your hand quickly retracted and your head shot up.

“I -”

He was quick to soothe you, one hand patting your thigh in a soothing rhythm while the other went to your untamed hair, softly stroking the back of your head.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, okay? You can do whatever you want with me.” You hesitantly pulled against the sleeve of his shirt.

“Stay? Please?”

He nodded. “Of course, darling. I wouldn’t dare go anywhere.”

The rest of the males reformed themselves to ensure that the three of you in the centre were protected.

“I think it is clear what her choice is. Now leave.” The pack leader commanded, voice strong with power. You saw your brother’s friend pull him along.

“Fine! Die with these mutts around you, whore!”

The cat-wolf lunged for your brother when the pack leader pulled him back.

The males remained in the formation only when they were certain your brother was far enough and they couldn’t smell him from the distance anymore. Only then did they relax their posture, slowly turning towards you with worried eyes. You were no longer shaking in Jimin and the fluffy hair’s hold but your scent was still sour with fear.

They cautiously moved up the stairs to the living room where they sat down at the sofa. You turned your head to look at them. All seven males were foreign to you - as foreign as the way they made you feel safe and protected.

“Should we… say names?” The man with a whole sleeve of tattoos asked, eyes big and filled with curiosity - just like a bunny’s, you thought.

“I’m Namjoon.” The pack leader started.

“Yoongi.” You finally had a name for the cat-wolf.

“Taehyung.” The fluffy head of hair appeared into your view again. “But I give you special permission to call me TaeTae!”

You nodded.

“I’m Seokjin but just Jin is okay, yeah?”

“Me! Me!” The bunny man hopped up. “I’m Jungkookie!”

“You can call me Hobi!”

Oh that man was filled with sunshine, you could clearly see.

“And I’m Jimin but you already know that, little one.”

You nodded.

“Would you like to ask us anything?”

You shook your head then nodded again, pointing to Yoongi. “Cat-wolf. Cat. Meow-Meow.”

Jungkook burst out laughing from your left, igniting a round of laughter that filled the room and lifted the heavy atmosphere.

“For you, you can call me whatever you want, darling.” Yoongi smiled, gums out as he looked at you with adoration.

In that moment, you felt their strength and loyalty, their offering to you of a sanctuary - a refuge from the darkness you fought so hard from. From those that have haunted your life for so long.

As time passed, you became part of their pack - a human amongst werewolves. They were patient in teaching you their traditions and customs, their code of honour and their ways. You learned that they were the protectors of the forest, guardians of the vulnerable, and that they are the core value of the balance of nature itself.

Namjoon, with his kind eyes and strong presence, quickly became a source of your strength and guidance for you. His knowledge and wisdom never failed to keep you entertained. Although clumsy, this man was the foundation of his pack.

Seokjin, with his unseriousness and constant care, he helped heal the wounds that your brother and his friends had inflicted upon you. He kept you steady as you grew, always ensuring to pull you up when you got down but bringing you down when you were too high up.

Yoongi, the car-wolf, with his gentle hands and calm nature became another one of your rocks. He never failed to teach you something new that day and he most certainly cooked one of the best foods you have ever tasted - rivalling Seokjin’s.

Hobi, with his everlasting laughter and sunshine, was an easy person to be around as you healed from your wounds. He never fails to make you laugh. With him around, there was never a dull moment.

Jimin, with his soft and calming nature, he unintentionally healed both your emotional and mental wounds. While Seokjin cared for your physical wounds, Jimin was always a talking buddy that helped you through understanding yourself and your worth.

TaeTae, with his outgoing mischievous nature, the both of you were constantly creating something to be cleaned up. Hand-in-hand with Jungkookie, the three of you liked to run out and about, being everywhere.

Jungkookie, with his curiosity and strength, the both of you were always causing mischief for the others. Like partners-in-crime, the both of you would be curious about everything and anything, so the both of you would always take it upon yourselves to figure out the answers.

But you have also come to realise that the entire pack was more than just a pack - they were a family. Each of them had their own unique qualities and were a force to be reckoned with. Today was a full moon and under the light of the glowing orb, you discovered a love and acceptance that you had never known. Your past, with all its pain and suffering, seems to fade into the background when you are with them. Embracing the new chapter of your life, you ran forward with them, putting your full trust in the seven males you had learned to understand.

With your heart and spirit soaring, you felt the exhilaration of the transformation, the wind against your fur, and the pure joy of being truly free. In these moments, you knew you had found your place - a home amongst those who have shown you the power of love, trust, and transformation.

As you looked up the the moon, you couldn’t help but feel a huge wave of gratitude. The moon led you here today - to the sanctuary - a place where you were no longer a victim but a survivor; that you were no longer alone but in a place filled with love and acceptance.

As you howled at the moon and cuddled amongst your pack, you came to realise that sometimes, safety and love are found in the most unexpected places. For instance, in a moonlit sanctuary of a werewolf pack that had become your everlasting family.

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