#they already understood each other so well and cared about each other so much
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i just know haytham would be the type to keep a locket with a picture of shay on it
in an AU where haytham took a young connor under his wing, I could imagine that he would give his son the most elite education in languages, literature, arts, and philosophy. one of them being drawing classes.
when connor grew up, his skills in the arts further improved. being older now, he would notice how his father had grown rather fond of his associate, shay. connor didn't mind it though, he even thought this would be a good thing for haytham. after all, his father has been through so much pain. and with the death of his mother and the only woman haytham ever felt deep affection for, died any hope within the older man to find another lover.
even so, he thought his father deserved a second chance at love. thus begins connor's multiple attempts to win shay's heart on behalf of his father.
his father's birthday was coming up, and he wanted to give him a gift. shay was away on a mission for a few months, leaving him and his father stuck with each other’s company. haytham became more uncharacteristically irritable as the days went by, though connor understood it. communication was scarce, and due to the nature of their work, there will always be the possibility that shay wouldn’t be able to return.
it was unlikely for shay to be able to return on his father’s birthday, and both connor and haytham knew that. every year, the other templars would hold a celebration for the grandmaster, which undoubtedly would be the same this year, but what makes it so different is the absence of his father’s source of affection. well, connor would also be in attendance, as he always was years before, and haytham certainly wouldn’t be displeased with that. the older man missed the first few years of his son’s life and always wished to make up for lost time by celebrating milestones and happy moments with his only child.
still, connor couldn’t ignore his father’s forlornness, and he wanted to cheer him up in a way, but… how?
one night, a few days before haytham’s birthday, connor decided to visit his father’s quarters. he knew he had been feeling a bit lonely recently and thought perhaps he needed some company. after knocking a few times, he opened the door and found the older man fast asleep. walking closer to the bed, he found a letter on the floor. the younger man picked it up and saw the familiar penmanship of none other than shay cormac. he quickly took his eyes off the letter and placed it on the bedside table. he didn’t need to read their correspondence; he was taught to respect the privacy of others after all, and… he really didn’t want to know that much about his father’s love life.
connor looked back at haytham, feeling relief at how peacefully he was asleep. he was worried his father was having trouble sleeping and taking care of himself in the absence of one of his most special members of the order. the mohawk smiled as he glanced at the letter on the bedside table. he really missed his associate…
…and that was all he needed to know to decide what he was going to give to his father as a birthday present.
haytham was having his usual afternoon tea in his garden. he had been trying to distract himself from thinking about the irishman. it only hurts him to know that he’s so far away, that sometimes he even regrets sending him on that mission. but, they both know that they have a responsibility to the order and the safety of humankind itself. he was about to take another sip of his tea when the loud yet familiar footsteps of his son came crashing in.
“what is it now, boy?”
“happy birthday, father.”
oh, was it already his birthday?
he’d been so preoccupied with work that he’d forgotten what most people deem as the most special day of one’s life. he looked at the small locket his son held in his hand and gently took and inspected it a little more carefully. his eyes widened at the portrait of the person within the gold-plated pendant.
“this is… shay…”
connor smiled at how his father’s eyes seemed to sparkle in an instant.
haytham examined the locket even more closely. the brushstrokes and the colors, he felt like he’d seen a great many artworks that had the same motifs before.
“did… did you make this?”
connor was grinning at this point, delighted to see his father’s surprised expression. before he could nod and comment on his father’s uncharacteristic show of mere shock, he suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around him.
“thank you, son.”
connor stood still, startled at the unexpected physical contact. it was rare for his father to show some vulnerability, though he would always be glad to see his father open up to others more. he hugged the older man back, squeezing tightly and patting his back. as haytham pulled away, the brit couldn’t seem to hide his smile. he looked at the locket again, sliding his thumb over shay’s portrait. he glanced back at connor and asked,
“but, why…?”
“why not?”
haytham sighed, and connor could sense that the other man wasn’t satisfied with his answer.
“well, i’ve noticed that you’ve grown rather… fond… of master cormac.”
haytham slightly blushed at that, looking away from his son in embarrassment. he heard his son snicker and glared back at him. connor wasn’t intimidated at all, however. he stood still, grinning and beaming at his father.
“i’d rather you not mention that ever again.”
connor chuckled at that, placing his hands behind his back, he stood straight and excused himself.
“as you wish, sir.”
he sarcastically replied, turning his heel to leave the gardens. once he was face to face with the estate’s double doors, he glanced back at his father sitting on one of the benches. there was a gentle smile on haytham’s face, looking peaceful as he was when connor saw him fast asleep in his quarters a few nights ago. he was still holding the locket, gazing at it in pure adoration.
connor smiled and went back to his quarters, thinking perhaps he should also paint a portrait of his father for shay when he returns.
#assassin's creed#assassins creed iii#ac3#haytham kenway#connor kenway#ratonhnhaké:ton#shay patrick cormac#shay cormac#shaytham#haytham kenway x shay cormac#assassin's creed fanfiction#imagines#headcanon#oneshot#drabble#ac headcanons#old men yaoi
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Ty years after the fact when he finds out that Kit's "I love you" was meant romantically and that Kit left because he thought Ty rejected him when Ty had assumed those words had been said as platonically as when any of his family members had said the same thing to him:
#Ty was so used to Kit knowing how his brain worked and what he needed but then Kit thought he'd been blunt about his feelings only to run#off because he went oh no this wasn't enough to stop him and he doesn't feel the same instead of having a 5 minutes conversation to clarify#But CC loves a miscommunication trope and how else were we going to drag their relationship development out during another 3 books when#they already understood each other so well and cared about each other so much#I'm back on my KitTy bullshit but then again I am never ever far from it I just usually funnel it at Iris when the feelings get#strong again#KitTy#Kit Herondale#Christopher Herondale#Ty Blackthorn#Tiberius Blackthorn#The Dark Artifices#TDA#The Wicked Powers#TWP#The Shadowhunter Chronicles#TSC#Cassandra Clare#My Posts
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hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D
true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH
the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.
meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.
the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.
you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.
though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.
“no.”
“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”
“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.
you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”
he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”
“yay!”
you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”
one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”
the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”
you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”
the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”
“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”
they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”
the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?
they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.
you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.
you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.
the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.
you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.
sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.
for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.
you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.
it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.
you frowned, “that is my spot.”
he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”
“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”
at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”
“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”
a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.
he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.
he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”
you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”
that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.
he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.
instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.
the door finally opens, and it reveals you.
sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.
what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.
you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.
he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”
he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”
instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”
amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”
“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.
“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.
they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.
he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”
in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.
the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.
you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.
you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.
he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.
he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.
his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.
“sukuna, my name…?”
he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”
you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”
“and I am not usual, am I?”
you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”
you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.
the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.
you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.
you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.
“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.
he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”
“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”
you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.
the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.
uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”
vows? sukuna prepared vows?
tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”
okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.
but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”
he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.
—
“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.
you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”
“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”
they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.
you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.
“high, my lord.”
you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”
he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.
it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.
with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.
“ooo, red wine!”
“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”
after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.
finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”
he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”
“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.
he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”
“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”
“I don’t care!”
“oh?”
you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.
you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.
he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”
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Nameday Celebration
Summary ✩ Call it recklessness or sheer stupidity, but Benjicot is determined not to miss his lovers nameday…Even if it means sneaking into enemy territory for the night
Warnings ✩ Smut, oral sex, established relationship, brief mention of violence, fingering, foul language
The music around you was loud, and though it was quite merry, it did nothing to lift your spirits as you sat at the high table.
All around you, you were surrounded by the happy chatter of other lords and ladies that had travelled from all over to be here. Some of them even shared the same last name as you did, Bracken. But even though the evening was filled with music and light, warmth and laughter from your family, you still felt…disappointed.
You felt terrible, of course, sitting there in your fancy dress and feeling ungrateful at the ball that was thrown in your name—but you couldn’t help it.
People had come from all over the Riverlands for you, uprooted their lives and paid good coin on gifts for you, but none of that was what you truly wanted.
Your father had gone through great lengths to throw you this ball, spending coin that he didn’t have just to celebrate and maybe find you a suitable match.
By all means, it was supposed to be an amazing night in your life and yet you were so caught up in your feelings that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be thankful.
All over, you constantly spotted sigils from houses such as the Freys, the Mootons, and the Mallisters. Even the Tully’s had made an effort to appear but none of those sigils were the ones that you wanted to see.
None of those sigils belonged to him.
Admittedly, you knew that you were a fool to ever think that he’d show up here. Your father would have sooner died than invite a Blackwood into his home, let alone have one around his daughter.
It was a feeble thought, and it was stupid of you to even be upset. Of course Benji would not show up your nameday celebration. You had known that ever since it was announced.
Your lover himself had told you that as much as he wanted to, there was just no way for him to celebrate your nameday with you. He sure as hell wasn’t invited and it would be too risky and too bloody to just show up unannounced.
The chaos that would ensue if a band of Blackwoods showed up would ruin your nameday for certain. And as much as you wanted to see him, you understood that his absence was for the best.
Still though, the feeling of disappointment had its grip on you.
You tried to act normal and you tried to make it seem like you weren’t utterly gutted, but you knew that your emotions had spilled out anyways. You were quiet and withdrawn, choosing to stay at the high table in the seat of honor rather than get up and dance with every one else.
You had chosen to sip on your wine rather than prance around with a man you didn’t care about.
You knew it was petty, but if your father wanted to be petty as well and not invite the Blackwoods, then you vowed not dance with anyone other than Benji.
It was problematic, seeing you were the guest of honor and you had declined many lords already, but you held fast. Each and every man that came to your table was turned away, to the displeasure of your father.
His ulterior motives of trying to find you a husband were not as discreet as he thought them to be. Every time the word ‘no,’ left your lips to a potential match, his lips pressed into a thinner and thinner line.
His patience with you was slowly running out.
Even though others might not have picked up on your sullen mood, he did. You were your father’s daughter after all. It was easy enough for him to tell that something was wrong, and whatever it was, he wasn’t happy about it.
After making sure that the coast was clear and that was no one was listening, he leaned in and addressed you with distain in his voice.
“Is something the matter with the celebration, Y/N?” He asked tightly.
His eyes, similar to yours, bore into you from behind his mask. Curiosity along with annoyance could be seen pooling inside them.
The answer that you had been mentally rehearsing all night finally had its chance to slip out.
“No father. Nothing is wrong with the celebration. Everything you have done for me is beautiful and much appreciated.”
Your father clenched his jaw as you took a sip of your wine, trying your best to avoid his heated stare.
“Is that so?” A small scoff left his lips. “Then why is it that you refuse to act the least bit of happy?”
You swallowed as your mind flickered to Benji. You were grateful that your mother had insisted on a masquerade ball, and that your mask was big enough to cover your face. If it didn’t, you feared you’d give much more than you wanted to away.
“I’m not…unhappy, father,” A sigh left your lips as you looked to the dance floor. Your eyes lingered on all of the couples who got to dance freely. On all of the ladies that got to be with who they wanted to without it ending in a bloody civil war.
Involuntarily, envy pooled in your chest.
“I’m just..tired, that’s all,” You continued, hoping your lie was enough.
It wasn’t.
Another scoff could be heard from your father as his chair scraped. From beside you, on your left, your mother looked on worriedly as he hissed.
“Tired? How can you be tired, daughter, when you have not even bothered to grace the dance floor?”
Silence was heard on your part as you swallowed again. You kept your eyes in front of you for fear that you’d say something to make him angrier. It wasn’t your intentions to get into it with your family, not tonight, so you kept your eyes straight and your mouth shut.
You focused on the many people on the dance floor as your father simply shook his head, mumbling about how ungrateful his daughter was.
Your mother simply gave you a disappointed look, but you ignored them both as something caught your attention.
At first, you thought that you imagined it. A simple trick of the light perhaps, or maybe you just had too much wine, but you could have sworn that you saw a flash of black, accompanied by broad shoulders and wide, gleaming eyes.
Your gaze became locked onto the stranger that bared these traits, so familiar to you but so far away. With your heart hammering in your chest, you watched as he made his way onto the dance floor. You couldn’t see him yet, not properly anyways. He was still hidden behind the horde of people all crowded together. Hiding behind the multitude of dancers and weaving in and out of the crowd.
It took all you had to keep your gaze on him and not look away. You couldn’t lose him. Not until he got closer. Not until you were sure.
For now, you were stuck following his movements with care, watching as he came closer, and closer, until finally…
Your heart stopped.
You weren’t sure if it was the wine or if you truly were hallucinating as your eyes locked with his, Benji coming to stand right in front of the high table. Beside him were two other men, all bare of any sigils and hidden under masks. But they were there. They were…
No, no.
It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t dare.
…Would he?
You started to doubt yourself. Telling yourself that there was no way that it could be him. It was too much of a risk. It was too dangerous for him to even consider such a thing…
But then he began to smile. That damned smile that you would recognize anywhere, under a mask or not. That and his eyes. You knew those eyes. That wide-eyed, crazed stare that often sent your heartbeat racing through your chest.
You knew them like the back of your hand. And sure enough, as you stared into the crowd, looking directly into those eyes, he winked.
Your chair scraped immediately.
Without much warning you stood, shooting a quick mumble towards your father before racing down the steps and towards him with determination.
Your father, thankfully, was none the wiser as you rushed forward, nodding in approval as you reached Benji and looped your arm with his.
He thought you had simply come to your senses and was dancing with some lord.
He had no idea who you were moving towards the dance floor with and if he did, you were sure that the smile would be wiped right off his face.
Lord Bracken would start a war if he knew a Blackwood had snuck under his roof, but alas that was the last thing that you were worried about.
You were more concerned about your lover getting caught, the fool having the nerve to laugh as you dragged him through the crowd. The two men he had brought along with him tried to follow, but they quickly ended up getting lost.
It was almost impossible to navigate through all of the twirling bodies, but you made it your mission to weave through them, Benji’s laughter getting lost under all of the noise. You were grateful that the masks at least concealed your true identities, allowing you to pull him along until no one else was around.
You managed to make it all the way to your room without getting stopped. As you did, you opened the door and all but threw Benji inside, making sure the door was locked before turning to your lover with a glare.
A wild gleam appeared in his eyes as he stared at you. It was obvious that he was more pleased than afraid as he grinned, crackling as he embraced you in his arms.
“Benji, Benji! Put me down!”
His laughter mixed in with your shouts of protests as Benji suddenly picked you up, spinning around in his arms.
The world suddenly went blurry for a moment as your lover twirled you, your eyes going in and out of focus. You felt dizzy whenever he finally let go of you, swaying a little bit until Benji steadied you.
When he did, you swore with everything inside of you were going to kill him.
“You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?”
Benji smiled sheepishly as you turned your fiery gaze on him, a mix of concern and anger lacing your voice. Worriedly, you glanced to the door, afraid that someone would burst through and discover him even though you had locked it.
With little time to protest, you were swept into his arms again and pulled against him.
“I was thinking that couldn’t help myself, my love. It is your nameday, and I had to see you,” He said softly, pressing his forehead to yours.
Instantly, some of your anger began to dissolve. You blamed not seeing him for weeks as the reason you began to fold so quickly, but some of your worry and panic still bled over.
“You had to? Benji you could have been caught! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be here right now? If my father or the guards had discovered you—”
Benji cut you off with a loud laugh.
“Your guards are the sorriest cunts I have ever seen in my life,” He snorted. “I could have snuck an entire army into Stone Hedge and no one would have batted an eye.”
“Hey!”
You playfully swatted his shoulder, giggling softly because you knew he was right. If your guards had done their jobs then Benji wouldn’t be here right now. Alone in a room with their Lord’s daughter, staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes.
A million different things ran through your mind. Everything from terror at getting caught to just being plain excited that he was here flooded your veins. You kept looking over your shoulder, expecting your door to burst open any second while Benji continued to hold you.
It took a few seconds, but when you were sure that no one was coming to seize your lover and take him away, a smile broke out on your face and you quickly embraced him back.
You threw your arms around Benji and held him tight, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you laughed lightly.
���Leave it to you, Benjicot Blackwood, to risk death and torture just to wish me a happy nameday,” You whispered, feeling his chest rumble underneath you.
Benji shrugged. “And to give you this,” He said cheekily, pulling away. When he did, you saw him reach into his pocket for a second before slowly pulling something out.
You bit your lip as Benji handed you a box, a velvet box with the Blackwood sigil embroidered on top.
With a curious look, you opened it up and then gasped at what you saw inside.
“This is…this is for me?” You asked incredulously.
Benji nodded, grinning.
“Of course it is, love. You’re the only Bracken I can give that to without loosing my head,” He teased slightly before continuing.
“D’you like it though? I had to go four towns over, all the way to The Crag so people wouldn’t ask questions. Figured it would have been strange if a Blackwood was caught asking someone to make a neckless with a Bracken sigil.”
The shyness that he sometimes was known for was evident on his face as he waited for your response, Benji nervously playing with his hands.
Luckily though, he didn’t have to wait long. He sighed in relief as he saw you grin, pulling him into another bone crushing hug and kissing his cheek.
“Benji…of course I love it,” You whispered in his ear, making him shiver. You could feel him relax underneath you, hugging you back as your eyes threatened to fill with tears.
“You mean it?” He asked, a bit more vulnerability shining through.
Your heart filled with more love that you thought was capable.
“Of course I mean it. How could I not?” You asked him softly. “It’s beautiful, and I can’t imagine it was easy for you to even have this made.”
You made a jest in order to keep yourself from crying.
Benji laughed lightly. “Aye. It nearly killed me to spend coin on that ugly red stag, but I think the back of it makes up for it. Look.”
He gestured for you to flip the necklace over and when you did, you discovered that it was double-sided. On the front, the sigil of house Bracken was carved, unassuming to anyone who saw it. But on the back…
You ran your fingers over the weirwood tree surrounded by ravens and lightly gasped. It was the sigil of House Blackwood, the symbol that belonged to the man you loved.
In tiny letters, barely visible unless you squinted, the initials B.B were engraved in one of the ravens.
Benjicot Blackwood.
“Oh. It’s beautiful Benji. Thank you,” You said again, your voice thick with emotion as you saw it. This time, you weren’t able to keep the tears from your eyes, one of them falling down your cheek as you sniffled.
Gently, Benji reached to your face and wiped it away. He smiled lightly and gestured for you to turn around. Taking the necklace from your hands, he then unclasped it and gently placed it around your neck.
When he did, he flipped it so that the symbol of House Blackwood showed instead.
“There. Just as it belongs,” He said.
Sniffling lightly, you allowed him to run his fingers over it, Benji placing soft kisses on your neck before turning you around.
When you did, you immediately planted your lips upon his, unable to resist it any longer.
You could tell that Benji was taken by surprise by the sudden action, but he quickly wasted no time in kissing you back. He matched the amount of passion in your kiss, greedily drinking in the taste of you after being starved for so long.
Not long after, what started as a soft, slow kiss turned into something more. The desperation that you both felt after not seeing each other for a while pooled over, and soon enough you found yourself tugging on his hair, wanting something more.
Benji clearly felt the same as he began to lead you towards the bed.
Gently, he laid you down on the soft covers and your heart pounded as he leaned over you.
Once more, his lips met yours in a swift kiss but this time it was accompanied by roaming hands.
You felt him touching you everywhere that he could, Benji feeling all of the parts that he missed.
His hands lingered on your waist and then your chest, fingers dancing over the material that covered your breasts. It was clear that just feeling you over your clothing wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and so you weren’t surprised when he broke the kiss, eyes hungry as he tugged on the yellow garb.
“Take this off,” He demanded softly, his dark eyes wild with lust.
Quickly, you sat up and with his assistance was able to get it off. Benji struggled a little bit when it came to your corset, resulting in your lover getting impatient.
Regrettably, this meant that you would have to explain to your Septa why the strings looked like they had been cut with a knife. A little annoyance pooled inside of you at the inconvenience, but you tried not to think about that as you stared at him, anxious to know what he wanted next.
“Turn around,” Benji then rasped, taking no time to drink in your naked body. “I want you on your knees, ass in the air.”
Despite his filthy words, his tone was oddly soft. Desire pooled in your core as you obediently listened, eager for whatever it was he had planned for you. You laid your head on your soft pillow, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the bed dip behind you.
You sighed as Benji kneeled in between your legs. In an instant, your felt his calloused hands roaming over your body, trailing all the way from the small of your back to the center of your core. Gently, his padded fingers traced your slick folds, eliciting a moan from you when they brushed over your clit.
“Fuck, how I’ve missed this.”
You said nothing as his fingers continued to tease your clit, too busy panting at the sensation.
It had been too long, you noted, since you had felt your lovers’ touch.
The more that tensions between your houses grew, the less time that you had to spend with Benji. It was too risky to be seen anywhere near Blackwood territory and your father had doubled the guards, making it nearly impossible to sneak out. Your meetings had been so few as of late, leaving you craving his touch like no other.
Eagerly, you wanted to take advantage of this opportunity, moaning when Benji sank a digit into your tight cunt. You cursed softly as he began to pump in and out, loving the way he curled them inside of you to reach your pleasure spots.
It seemed that your time apart did nothing to impact Benji’s memory. He still remembered exactly how to make you come undone, adding more and more digits until your cunt was stuffed.
The more fingers that he added, the louder you moaned. Pleasure that you had not experienced in weeks quickly began to cloud your senses, making you forget that you were supposed to be quiet in case anyone overheard you.
You could only imagine the disaster that would ensue if Benjicot Blackwood was discovered knuckle-deep inside of Lord Bracken’s daughter. Making her come undone on his fingers, slowly but surely, and whispering the filthiest of words in her ear.
You imagined that the aftermath wouldn’t be pretty, but alas all of those thoughts and worries faded away the minute you felt Benji kneel down, attaching his mouth to your cunt.
Any previous thoughts that you had were gone—replaced by muffled moans and incoherent blabber.
You whimpered as you felt Benji’s tongue lapping at your folds, eating your cunt like he was a man starved.
You felt him sucking on your clit, taking the bud into his mouth just as his index and middle finger curled against the right spot.
The combined pleasure had you gasping out, pillow forgotten as strangled cries left your lips.
Benji could feel your cunt tightening around his fingers and he smirked, coaxing you through your orgasm as you moaned and withered under him.
It took all he had to hold you down, using his free hand to keep your cunt firmly pressed against him. He refused to let up his assault until he could taste you on his tongue, the sweetness of your juices making him groan as well.
When he finally pulled away and released you from his hold, you managed to weakly look behind you and see him grinning. Benji licked his fingers, his face shiny with your arousal as he met your eyes.
“Hmm. So fuckin’ sweet. You want to taste, raven?”
Meekly you nodded, your face and your core burning at the nickname. Benji smiled as he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips while he grinded into you.
You could feel his cock hard as stone poking against your thighs. The thought of him being inside of you after so long briefly made you loose the ability to breathe as excitement flooded your veins.
The action allowed for Benji to slip his tongue in your mouth, kissing you sloppily for a moment before reluctantly pulling away.
His wild eyes were dark with lust as he fiddled with his own clothing, loosening his trousers so that his cock could spring free.
You felt your mouth water as you watched him stroke himself for a moment, spurts of preseed dripping down the base.
Benji let a hand roam over your back and gently used it to push you down, spreading your legs so that he could settle in between them.
With your back arched and your face pressed firmly against the pillow once again, he teased you by dragging his cock along your folds and then, he pushed in.
Together, you both let out a whine as Benji’s cock sank inside of you, your lover letting out a swear as you gripped him tight.
It had been a while since the two of you had sex, and it was evident in the way your legs trembled, your cunt straining to take him as he sank deeper.
You let out another whine, reaching behind you for something to grip. Luckily Benji seemed to get the message clear enough, and quickly he intertwined your fingers together.
Once he was buried inside of you to the hilt, he stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Light kisses were peppered against your back as he leaned over you, holding you as close as possible before his hips began to move.
In a slow rhythm, he dragged his cock in and out as if to savor the moment.
As his hips snapped against yours and sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, your moans slowly started to combine.
You had forgotten how much you missed this. You had forgotten how much you missed him. Loneliness was awful but often times it was easy to get accustomed to it. After all, it’s what you signed up for when you took a Blackwood for your lover.
You expected to go days, weeks, or even months without seeing Benji. So when he was here, you did all you could to savor him before he had to leave again.
Every breath, every groan, and every whisper of encouragement was committed to memory. Every touch, every kiss cherished.
You relished in the way Benji’s cock felt against your walls, squeezing him as if it would somehow help you remember how it felt.
A small curse left his lips as you did, Benji leaning down to suck a love bite on your skin.
As his teeth grazed your neck, you groaned as he somehow managed to find both of your sweet spots.
“That’s it. That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Benji praised you as you began to fuck yourself on his cock, throwing your hips back and meeting his trusts. Your moans combined together as the pace sped up, the sound of heavy breathing quickly filling the room.
After a moment, you felt his weight shift off of your body as Benji opted to get back on his knees. He used his hands to keep your hips steady, pushing down on the small of your back to keep it arched.
With this new angle, he was able to drive into you quicker and repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Curses left his lips as you began to tremble around him, his own orgasm approaching at the same time as yours.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You gripped the sheets tightly as obscenities left his mouth, feeling Benji quickly pull out of you just as your peak washed over you.
Hot spurts of his seed coated your back, Benji spilling himself onto your skin before finishing you off with his fingers.
The absence of his cock was most disappointing, but by the time you came down from your high you barely noticed.
You were too busy in a state of bliss, turning around to capture Benji in a kiss before shakily pulling away.
“Are you alright, my love?” He asked immediately, panting heavily as he collapsed next to you.
Sometimes, it amazed you how quickly he could change. One moment Benji was shy and sweet, giving you the most beautiful necklace for your nameday. And then the next he was making you cum, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear and fucking you so good that you saw stars.
Now, he had switched again, his soft side back on display as he held you in his arms.
He was careful enough not to cum inside of you and—much to your displeasure—had used your fancy yellow dress to wipe up his seed.
You suspected that he was too pleased by the action, but you opted not to say anything about it. Instead, you merely disregarded the dress and chose to cuddle in his arms, trying to soak the last remaining moments you had.
“Of course I’m alright. It is my nameday and I’ve just received the best gift of the night,” You replied after some pause.
You knew him well enough that you could practically hear the smirk appear on his face.
“What? The sex?” Benji asked cheekily, to which you playfully elbowed him.
“No you fool!” You giggled as you knew that was exactly what he was going to say. “The necklace! The necklace you risked life and limb to deliver to me personally!”
You rolled your eyes as Benji began to laugh behind you, the cheerful sound echoing through your chambers.
“Right, right. That is what I risked life and limb for,” He said innocently.
You didn’t have the energy to do anything expect roll your eyes again. You swore he was so stupid sometimes. From sneaking into enemy territory to making silly little jests, your Benji sure was a character to be reckoned with.
But, that was exactly what you loved about him.
Sighing softly, you shook your head and listened to the sound of his breathing. It remained steady behind you as Benji slowly relaxed, settling in your bed like he was simply at home.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was falling sleep. His body was certainly still enough to think so, but you knew as well as he did that he couldn’t stay here.
The party downstairs was slowly dying down. If you listened close enough, you could hear the final songs planned for the night dwindling down, and you knew pretty soon someone was going to come for you.
Benji couldn’t be here when they did.
Your father was probably already angry enough at your lack of presence. If he ever discovered the reason why you had so suddenly disappeared then he would have your head—Benji’s too.
And as much you loved lying in his arms, feeling the warmth and the love radiating from his body, you loved seeing Benji alive much more.
So, sure enough, as the final notes on the final songs began to play, he stood up.
“Well, I suppose that’s my cue to take leave, then.”
Benji smiled sadly as he began to gather his clothes, redressing while you watched him with despair. The sheets that were wrapped loosely around you began to fall as you stood as well, walking over to him just as he readjusted his dagger.
“Do you promise to come visit me soon?” You asked him anxiously.
Slowly, Benji began to nod. He knew as well as you did that soon was debatable. Tensions were at all time high as whispers of war breaking out in the Kingdom spread. They added to the already strained relations between your houses.
Still though, Benji could not bare to see your disappointment. He didn’t want to leave on a bad note, either, so he settled for an unserious answer to ease the situation.
“If your father doesn’t replace his guards any time soon then I’ll be able to visit you any time you’d like,” He chuckled.
He was met by a small giggle that had his heart smiling with joy. Softly, you gripped his hand, savoring his touch as you knew that it would be the last time for a while.
“Stay safe out there, Blackwood,” You told him softly. “Don’t get into any trouble and for Seven’s sake, leave the assize stones alone. Make sure that you come back to me, you hear?”
Your tone was playful, but he knew that you were being as serious as a dead man.
Briefly, his lips twitched a little as he fought the urge to tell you that it was your family that messes with the stones. But ultimately, he agreed.
“I will. I promise,” Benji said sincerely.
A soft kiss was then planted on your lips, you and Benji holding onto each other for one last time. When you pulled away, a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you watched him walk away.
Closing your eyes, you decided to count his footsteps until he reached the door.
When you got to ten, you heard the door open. And one last time, Benji called out to you.
“Oh. And Bracken?”
“Hmm?”
You opened your eyes to see that familiar goofy smile, his eyes shining as he looked at you.
“I almost forgot to tell you, but happy nameday, my love. I do hope that this was a good one,” Benji laughed.
And with that, he closed the door, leaving you smiling and shaking your head behind him.
That fool. What one earth am I going to do with you, Benjicot Blackwood?
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd x reader#hotd smut#benjicot blackwood x reader#benjicot blackwood smut#benjicot blackwood#jacaerys velaryon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader
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warnings: none really
summary: jj really loves his new boat and shows it off to his girlfriend
a/n: he looked so cute in the comercial, i love him so much. please let him be happy this season 🙏🙏
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JJ Maybank was practically vibrating with excitement as he waited on the dock, a wide grin plastered across his face. His brand-new—well, new to him—boat was tied up right behind him, and he couldn’t wait to show it off to her. His pretty girlfriend and number one fan, the one who made everything in his life feel like it was coated in sugar and wrapped in a pink bow.
The sound of soft footsteps on the weathered wooden planks jolted him from his thoughts, and he whipped around to see his girlfriend, the absolute light of his life, making her way toward him. She looked as cute as ever, dressed in one of those sweet knitted tops she always wore, paired with a short skirt that twirled with each step. Her hair was bouncing with the sea breeze, and she had her usual pink gloss that smelled like strawberries, making him weak in the knees before she even said a word.
"J!" she called out, her voice making his already sky-high excitement bubble over.
Before she could even finish her next breath, JJ was already running toward her, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her down the dock. "You’re here, you’re here, you’re here! Okay, close your eyes!"
She blinked, giggling at his enthusiasm. "JJ, what are you—JJ!” she squealed, letting out an adorable little laugh when his hands covered her eyes from behind, her body relaxing into his. “What are you doing?”
“You trust me, right?”
“I do, yeah…”
“Then close your eyes,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, which instantly sent her into a new fit of giggles.
She sighs, her shoulders slumping down. “Can i at least get a hint of what it is?”
“Nope! Eyes closed, no peeking! This is a surprise!” He placed his other hand over her eyes too for extra insurance.
She let out a playful sigh but complied, trusting him as he eagerly led her down the last stretch of the dock. “Okay, okay! I’m closing them!”
JJ could barely contain himself as he guided her close to the boat, careful not to let her trip. “Alright… three… two… one—ta-da!” He whipped his hands away from her eyes and bounced on his heels as she finally saw it.
The messy panting, that if you narrowed your eyes read 'MAYBANK'S' on the right side, didn't let much to the imagination. Now, she understood.
Her eyes widened, and she let out a surprised gasp, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh my gosh, JJ! Is–Woah. Is this… this boat is yours?"
“Yup!” he said, puffing out his chest and throwing his hands up proudly.
Her gaze swept over the boat—a charming, beat-up thing, but it was perfect for JJ. The paint was chipped, and the motor looked like it had seen better days, but it had a certain rugged charm, just like him. “JJ, it’s—”
“Beautiful? Amazing? The best thing you’ve ever seen?” He interrupted, unable to contain his excitement.
She giggles, nodding along. “Yeah! How did you even manage this? We're... literally broke right now.”
JJ let out a short awkward chuckle, scratching his wrinkled eyebrows, “Uh, well... that's not really important. What is important though, is that she's all mine–Ours! It's not really new but, with a couple of technical adjustments, a little more of my girl's style right here and—boom! Meet 'The Maybank!”
She stared at him for a moment, eyes twinkling, before bursting into giggles. “The Maybank?”
“Okay, okay, it’s a work in progress, name-wise” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “But who cares about the name? Check this out! Come on, come on!" He grabbed her hand again and practically sprinted to the back of the boat, pulling her along with him like an overexcited puppy.
“JJ!” she laughed, trying to keep up with his energy.
“Look at this beauty of a motor!” he exclaimed, leaning over to pat the engine like it was some prized race car. “She purrs like a kitten! Well, kinda more like a sick kitten, but once I fix her up—purring.”
She smiled warmly, her heart swelling at how proud and happy he looked. JJ had been through so much, more than most people could handle, and yet here he was, smiling like a little kid on Christmas morning, showing her the boat he’d worked so hard to get. “A sick kitten? Oh, it's... Yeah, probably fixable. Without any more costs...”
“Oh, it is, princess!” JJ said, completely missing the uneasy tone. “You haven’t even seen the best part yet! Come here!”
He tugged her to the front of the boat, showing off the seats with grand gestures, talking a mile a minute. “These seats? Top-tier comfort. I mean, okay, there’s a rip or two, but it’s vintage, y’know? Character! Like–Like you say. Aesthetic.... And this right here—” He pointed to the tiny built-in cooler. “Boom! Cooler for all our drinks. You, me, the Pogues? Ice-cold sodas, beers, whatever we want. Fancy, huh?”
“Very fancy,” she giggled, nodding along.
“And wait, wait, there’s more!” He led her to the very front of the boat, practically skipping at this point. “See this space? Perfect for you to lay out and tan while I drive. Like a little sunbathing queen. Plus, I can park us in all the secret spots around OBX.”
She couldn’t stop laughing at how eager he was, and her heart swelled as she watched him ramble on. “You’re really proud of this, huh?”
He stopped mid-gesture and turned to her, his grin softening for a moment. “Yeah. I mean… it’s not much, but it’s mine. I can finally take you out on adventures, like we always talked about.”
Her heart melted at his words, and she reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “JJ, it’s perfect. I love it. I’m so proud of you.”
He leaned into her touch, his heart thudding in his chest. But before the moment could get too soft, his energy snapped back, and he grabbed her hand again. “Come on, I haven’t shown you the captain’s seat yet!”
He practically dragged her over to the helm, hopping into the driver’s seat and patting the spot next to him like an excited puppy. “Check it out! You wanna drive? You totally gotta drive.”
She shook her head, laughing again, but took a seat next to him, watching as he fiddled with the controls like a seasoned pro. “I don’t think I’m ready to drive a boat just yet, JJ. Can't even drive the HMS Pogue”
“Pfft, you’ve got me! I’m a captain now, baby. I’ll teach you everything. Plus, there’s not much to it—steering, not hitting rocks, easy peasy. You got it.”
She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Maybe next time, Captain Maybank.”
“Next time, I’ll hold you to that,” he smirked, turning to plant a quick kiss on her forehead.
With one swift movement, JJ started up the boat, and they pulled away from the dock, the boat chugging forward at a steady pace. The wind whipped through her hair, and JJ was practically glowing beside her, his smile as wide as the ocean they were heading toward.
“See? Easy!” JJ exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear as they coasted along the water. “This is just the start. I’m gonna take you everywhere, baby—secret beaches, hidden coves, the works. We’ll go places no one else even knows about. And just then, we'll be traveling all over the world. Like pirates”
She watched him, her heart practically melting as he rambled on, his energy so infectious that it made her feel like they were the only two people in the world. His joy was her joy, and she couldn’t help but beam at how proud and excited he was. “JJ, this is… amazing.”
He shot her a playful smirk. “I'm telling you, just wait until I fix the motor. Then we’ll be flying across the water, like those fancy Kooky boats. But better.”
She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as the boat slowed to a gentle stop in the middle of the water, the sound of the engine fading away to leave just the soft lapping of the waves. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in a beautiful mix of orange, pink, and purple. It was serene, and perfect.
As they glided over the water, JJ kept up his constant narration, pointing out every little thing about the boat, from the condition of the steering wheel to a small patch he’d made on the deck with duct tape. She soaked it all in, giggling at his over-the-top enthusiasm, and her heart swelled at how happy and free he seemed.
After a while, JJ slowed the boat to a stop in a quiet, serene spot with a perfect view of the setting sun. The water around them was calm, reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sky.
“And here we are,” JJ announced, throwing his arm over her shoulders as if he’d just revealed a million-dollar mansion. “Not bad for a first trip, huh?”
She snuggled into his side, her fingers tracing little patterns on his arm. “Not bad at all. I think I could get used to this.”
JJ grinned, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “You'll see, pretty girl. ”
She laughed, tipping her head up to kiss him on the cheek. “I can’t wait, Captain Maybank.”
JJ wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close as they watched the sunset together. His excitement from earlier had finally settled into a comfortable warmth, and for the first time in a while, he felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. He places his chin on his shoulder, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh-oh,” she teased, gentely tilting her head go look at him. “That’s never good.”
“Hey!” he laughed, then shook his head. “Nah, but seriously. You, know, the name of the boat? ‘The Maybank's’?" The way he pronounced it, slowly and with a twich of his eyebrows, managed to get a giggle from her. "It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
"Mhm, yeah. Really... characterized"
His grin softened into something a little more serious but no less JJ—playful yet full of warmth. He stepped closer, the arms around her waist gentely tighting. “Well, I was thinking… It’s perfect for when we get married too, you know? You’re gonna be a Maybank one day. Well, if you want. You can keep your last name though, not sure how it all works up these days, but... I wouldn't mind to share, you know? Just saying”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt her cheeks flush as his words settled in. Instead of being flustered, she melted into him, her smile only growing wider, softer, and so full of love. “No–I... You really think so?” she whispered, gazing up at him with that sweet, adoring look she saved just for him.
Her breath caught, the realization washing over her in a wave of warmth. They both knew it, had known it for a while now. The thought of marrying JJ felt like the most natural thing in the world, like it was already written in the stars.
“Of course! You’re my girl,” he said, his voice steady, almost serious, as if he was laying down the law. “When we get married, it’s going to be you and me, officially. Just picture it: ‘Captain and Mrs. Maybank’—how cool is that?”
A dreamy smile spread across her face, and she bit her lip, feeling giddy at the thought. “Mhm, sounds amazing, Jayj. Like a dream.”
His eyes lit up, and he pulled her closer, their bodies practically melting into one another. “See? It’s meant to be. I’ll show you the ropes on this boat, and then we can plan our future adventures as a married couple. Our honeymoon even” He flashed that goofy grin that always made her heart race. “You’ll make the best wife ever.”
Her cheeks flushed at the sincerity in his words, and she felt her heart swell with love. “I would love to be your wife, Mr. Maybank,” she said earnestly, her voice a soft melody. “I can’t imagine anything better.”
“Mhm. You, me, and this boat—just sailing off into the sunset. It’s perfect.” He pointed to the sea vaguely, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “And, hey, we can even practice the whole captain and first mate thing. We'll be the king and queen of these waters”
Her heart is about go explode in her chest, her eyes hurting from how much love they're holding while looking at him.
“Do you think we can take it out soon?” she asked, turning around in his arms to be face to face with him.
“Oh, absolutely. I already imagine us cruising around the island, just the two of us,” he said, a dreamy look crossing his face. “And then, in a few years, we’ll be out here with our kids, teaching them how to sail. It’ll be perfect.”
Her heart swelled at the thought, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. “I can’t wait for that, JJ. You make everything sound so fun and exciting.”
“Because it is! Especially with you!” He grinned down at her, and she could see the love and enthusiasm shining in his eyes. “You and me, forever, right?”
“Forever,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with all the certainty in the world. As they stood there together, she knew without a doubt that one day, they’d be sailing through life as Mr. and Mrs. Maybank, and nothing could be more perfect than that.
With her by his side and the open water ahead of them, JJ Maybank couldn’t imagine life getting any better.
#outer banks#obx#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#outer banks jj#jj obx#jj outer banks#jj maybank prompt#jj maybank imagine#obx jj maybank#jj maybank please give me chance#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank one shot#rudy pankow obx#rudy pankow picture#rudy pankow outer banks#rudy pankow#obx jj#obx 4#outer banks 4#outer banks s4#outer banks season 4#outer banks fluff#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank soft#⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ maybanksbaby .ᐟ
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Hearts on Fire
Tom Glynn- Carney x reader, Ewan Mitchell x reader, Glytchell x reader(eventually... maybe)
Summary- falling for either of your co-stars was NOT on your bucket list
Warnings- single mom!reader, both boys are single, mentions of past pregnancy
wc-1.1k
A/n- I don't know exactly how sets work but I'm pretty sure actors all meet each other way before the first day, so everyone knows the baby already
-
It was like yesterday that you were still auditioning for the role at 9 months pregnant. Now it was the first day on set and you had nobody to take care of your six-month-old son. Your cousin could only stay with you for so long and you were no way in hell leaving your baby with a stranger.
There was a bus that would pick up cast members but you weren't sure how they would feel about you bringing your baby on the bus and then to set.
But a call wouldn't hurt. And it didn't. Your assistant made sure something would be there. The set managers were more than happy to accommodate you as long as you brought everything needed.
You got a text from Olivia that they were close by you instantly gathered up your things and put the playpen outside, along with the baby bag.
"Okay Miles, you're coming with mommy to work today." You picked up the chubby baby put him in the travel car seat and walked outside just as the bus pulled up. You waved and shut your door and locked it. You bent down grabbed the playpen strap and swung it over your shoulder, it clashed against your backpack making you stumble. You grabbed the bag strap and started hauling it all towards the bus.
The bus doors slid open and your co-star Ewan Mitchell came running out.
"Let me help you out there."
"No Ewan I got it." You smiled at him but he shook his head. He grabbed the playpen and baby bag from your arms and gestured for you to go first.
"Thank you." You sighed and walked up the steps of the bus. Everyone greeted you and moved their stuff so you could set Miles down. Ewan came in behind you and handed you the baby bag.
"I'm going to take this to the back." He says and takes the playpen.
"Thank you again." You say.
"Don't mention it," Ewan says and walks to the back then back up to the front to sit directly behind you. Miles' car seat was secure and you took your seat right next to him.
The next stop was Tom. He stepped on the bus and his eyes instantly matched with you.
"Hey, Y/n." He sat down next to you in the other set of chairs. His eyes dashed over to the little have stretching. "You brought your baby!?" Tom instantly cooed and tried to get a look. And just at the same time, Miles started getting fussy. The kind that he wanted to be held.
"Okay okay." You cooed and started unbuckling him. You pocked him down and tried to sit him down on your lap but he planted his tiny feet on your thigh to stay up. "Oh, we want to stand today." He looked around the bus as it was completely new to him.
"Hi there." Tom waved at the baby with a big smile on his face. "I don't think you remember me but I do remember you." Miles giggled as if he understood. "You were so much tinier."
"Now he's a big boy." You say and tickle his sides making the baby squirm and giggle. Then he stopped as his little eyes caught onto Olivia. His tiny mouth was open in awe.
"Uh oh, I think someone's got his first crush," Tom says and you look at Miles who was staring intently at Olivia.
"You think she's pretty huh, I know she is." You say in a tiny baby voice.
"Oh, that is adorable," Olivia says with a smile which triggers Miles to smile as well. He sat down abruptly, digging his knees into your stomach making you huff then stood up with force to look at Olivia again. As if he was playing peek-a-boo.
The whole ride Miles had everyone smiling and laughing. You were only 15 minutes away when Miles suddenly leaned over to reach for Tom. It was like something clicked to Tom and he instantly reached out but then hesitated and looked up at you for reassurance.
You were going to be working with these people for who knows how long. You had to trust them.
You nodded and passed over Miles to Tom. He gladly accepted it with no issue. He sat in the man's lap contently while Tom kept a secure hold on him.
Once you deemed he was okay you let yourself relax as much as you could.
Ewan tapped your shoulder and you turned around.
“How old is he now?” He asks looking at Miles.
“6 months.” He nodded then looked at you.
“You look absolutely amazing by the way.” He says. “I wouldn’t have guessed you had a baby 6 months ago.”
Your face heated up and you broke out in a big smile.
“That is very kind of you Ewan, I appreciate it.” He gave a satisfied smile and grabbed his phone.
“Can I get your number? I have pretty much everyone but yours.”
“Yeah!” You grabbed his phone and typed in the number and handed it back to him. The bus pulled into the lot and parked. Everyone stood up grabbed their stuff and got off the bus just leaving you with Ewan, Tom, and Miles.
“I can take it from you, thank you.” You tell them but they don’t budge.
“We’ve got you, don’t worry. I can carry Miles.”
Tom says and stands up, bouncing Miles slightly.
“I can carry the other stuff. You worry about yourself for a bit.” Ewan says and grabs the baby bag and walks to the back to grab the playpen.
“Guys I’ve been doing this for months, please let me carry my stuff.” You pleaded but they didn’t budge. Tom waited for you to start walking and Ewan waited in the middle of the aisle.
“We know you’re doing this, but you’re basically by yourself Y/n, let us help. We’re going to be around each other for a long time. I'm sure everyone in there is going to want to help you as well.”
You didn’t know what to feel. Your chest tightened but your belly fluttered at his words. Your breath hitched and you bit your lip. The boys worried you were about to cry but you just nodded.
“Okay.”
-
A/n- this was more of an intro but, more to come!
@callsignwidow
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Crash Course in Love • 1
pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, Namjoon's a snack, smoking, brief mentions of drugs, OC and JK are petty af, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.2k
a/n: Part 1 is finally here 🎉 This fic is going to be my comfort story. It's relaxed for me but also quite new in the way I'm telling it and the length. I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as I do writing it 💕
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
masterlist • 02
You’ve never been much of a risk taker. That’s just not who you are. You've always believed in playing it safe, thinking it’s better to be cautious than to end up regretting a choice. But living that way has meant you’ve missed out on the grand adventures that others your age fondly reminisce about. In fact, this cautious attitude is exactly what ended your last relationship.
Jungkook, your ex, was the definition of a thrill-seeker, the kind of adventurer you read about in stories. He thrived on excitement, and in the beginning, he managed to pull you into his world, convincing you to join him on his smaller adventures. You’d go camping with him or ride along on his motorcycle. It wasn’t much, but for you, it felt like a lot. You were doing things you’d never willingly do on your own. For him, though, it wasn’t enough. And you knew that. So, rather than holding him back any more than you already had with your shy, introverted, no-risks-please kind of persona, you ended things.
Did you regret it? Both yes and no. Yes, because letting go of the love of your life hurt more than anything. And no, because you knew it meant Jungkook could finally live the way he always wanted, without restraint. Watching him happy, embracing life to its fullest, was what you wanted for him. But when he decided to travel the world right after the breakup—the thing you two had dreamed of doing together—it stung deeply.
Jungkook had always been the rational one, even if he was emotional at times. He understood why you made the decision you did, and though it hurt him as much as it did you, there was nothing more to say. When your words were final, that was it.
It didn’t help that you couldn’t stop yourself from checking in on him, stalking his social media to see him living his best life. Each post only made you feel worse, insecure about the choices you’d made. So, in a moment of frustration, you decided to turn things around. You would live on the edge, too. You’d make "risky" your new middle name.
You started small. Baby steps. You poured your glass of water right up to the brim, nearly overflowing, and then picked it up to drink, knowing full well there was a 99% chance you’d spill it. But you didn’t care. You lived dangerously now, and besides, hydration is key.
Next, you let your phone battery drop to 1%, watching the screen dim, your palms sweaty with the urge to just plug it in. But you resisted, holding out until it died completely. Of course, you rushed to charge it afterward, but you’d never admit that part.
Things escalated. You started crossing the street when the walk sign only had five seconds left, sprinting to the other side like a madwoman, just barely making it before the light changed.
But what really pushed you over the edge was seeing Jungkook’s latest post: him, laughing and carefree, with an unfamiliar woman by his side.
That’s when you signed up for skydiving, bungee jumping, and even got your motorcycle license. It was fun—really fun. But doing it all alone felt hollow. Without someone to share those experiences with, the thrill didn’t last long.
As winter approached, you found yourself at your cousin Yoongi’s apartment, practically begging him to join you on your latest venture—a two-week stay at a ski hostel to learn snowboarding.
“I’m not doing shit,” he said flatly, not even looking up from the couch.
“Pretty, pretty please, Yoongs.” You threw your best puppy-dog eyes at him, hoping for a miracle. Kneeling on his carpet, which was nowhere near plush enough to make this comfortable, you added, “I’ll do almost anything you want if you come with me. Pleeeeeease.”
“Everything?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Almost everything,” you clarified.
“Nah, I’m not going. Leave me alone.”
At that, you got up and threw yourself onto the couch beside him, clinging to his arm like a child. You put your face right up next to his, pouting dramatically. “Pwease, Yoongi oppa?”
“Ew, don’t call me that,” he said, surly grimacing in disgust.
“Okay, but only if you come with me! You won’t have to spend a cent. I’ve already paid for everything. Please, please, please.”
Yoongi sighed, and you could see him starting to waver, shooting you the occasional side-eye. “You’ll cover everything?”
“Everything,” you repeated, your eyes sparkling as you sensed victory.
“Fine.”
“Yesssss! I love you!” You kissed his cheek loudly, and he shoved you away with exaggerated disgust, though you knew he secretly enjoyed the affection. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 4 a.m. Pack your bags!”
“4 a.m.?” he groaned.
“Yup! See you then! Bye!”
“I never agreed to go that early! Hey, no! Wait—”
But you were already halfway out the door, knowing that if you stuck around to hear any more complaints, he’d change his mind in an instant.
Day 0
"I'm sure it's here... somewhere," you mumble desperately, trying to navigate your small, old car through the frosty streets of this tiny town. It's not that you're a bad driver, but Tony—your car, named after Iron Man—is getting on in years. With no power steering, driving these treacherous roads is far from enjoyable. Especially with a grumpy, moody Yoongi sitting beside you, not letting you think for a minute.
"I doubt that. You've got us stranded somewhere civilisation hasn't even reached."
"Oh, come on, I know it's here. And it's not as desolate as you're making it out to be! We saw another car, like, 20 minutes ago."
But Yoongi's right. You're no longer sure if you're heading in the right direction. Your phone died hours ago, leaving you without navigation, and there's been no sign of life for miles. You're hoping for a miracle—or at least that your memory of the route isn’t completely off—because the petrol’s running low. You've turned off the heater in the hopes of making it to the hostel without having to walk, but that means you’re both freezing, and Yoongi’s seconds away from murdering you. Not that there’s much left of your blood to spill, as the cold has probably frozen it solid by now.
"I regret agreeing to this, you know?"
"You've told me that already. Like, four times in the last... what? Five minutes?" Your teeth chatter uncontrollably, and you can’t help but silently agree with Yoongi, calling yourself all sorts of names for coming up with yet another idea that’s entirely out of character for you.
"And I'll keep saying it until we arrive. If we ever do." Yoongi’s breath fogs up as he speaks, and when Tony stutters—a sign that it’s running out of petrol or sheer willpower—you feel like you’re about to cry.
The snow hasn’t let up, towering in piles along the narrow street that seems to climb uphill endlessly. At this point, you’re not only terrified of being stranded but of Tony giving out and sliding all the way back down. All you can do is pray. Pray that this journey turns out better than it started, because, frankly, there’s not much that could make it worse.
"Wait, can you see that building?" You lean forward, nearly pressing your nose against the steering wheel, squinting to get a better look at the dark, blurred shape in the distance. Your windscreen wipers are losing their battle against the snow and frost, getting stuck midway, making visibility even worse. "Can you read the sign?"
Yoongi grumbles something inaudible as you both roll down your windows simultaneously, peering outside—not because it isn’t cold enough already, but because there’s no way to keep driving with a snow-covered windscreen. The freezing air and snow immediately assault your face, biting at your cheeks, nose, and everything else. Your nose starts running mercilessly, your eyes sting with tears that freeze on your lashes, making it nearly impossible to keep them open.
Yoongi’s not faring much better. His short hair, while practical, leaves his ears exposed to the cold, turning them bright red in an instant. Yet somehow, he’s still able to swear profusely—though you’re not sure if it’s aimed at you or the weather.
"It says ‘dinosaur,’" he spits out into the biting air.
"Yes! It’s ‘Dionysos!’ We’re here! I told you we weren’t lost." You regret smiling immediately, as the cold stabs at your teeth, making you fear they’ll shatter into a million pieces.
"Just park the fucking car."
As you manage to crest the hill, a small but beautiful town comes into view, beginning with the quaint little hostel you booked. And after you parked Tony right in front or it, you somehow manage to force the car windows back up, the frozen mechanisms protesting all the way with deafening screams. But you don’t care. With aching, frost-bitten limbs, you leap out of the car, grab your bags from the boot, and bolt inside the hostel, Yoongi practically bulldozing past you to get in.
Your arrival is marked by a tiny bell hanging over the entrance. While it’s not Christmas yet, the decorations for the advent season are in full swing. But most importantly, it’s warm. So wonderfully warm that you can’t help but take a deep breath, letting the heat thaw you from the inside out, as you discreetly wipe your nose on your sleeve.
"Oh, hey!" A man behind the reception desk greets you immediately. His glasses sit low on his nose, and a ridiculous Christmas jumper stretches across his tall frame.
"Hi! I’ve booked a room for two weeks. It’s under the name..."
Before you can finish, the man interrupts, saying your name. You glance warily at Yoongi, who, as expected, doesn’t care in the slightest. He’s already parked himself by the fireplace, looking like a cat forced to endure the cold for far too long.
"You’re our only guest this season." The man laughs uncomfortably, clearly sensing your suspicion.
"Oh." That’s all you manage, throwing another helpless glance at Yoongi, who remains completely uninterested.
"Yeah, I can’t compete with all the amenities that new hotel chain offers," he adds with a shrug.
"Oh! That’s a shame." You step forward, genuinely sorry to hear about the plight of small businesses, struggling to survive against the corporate giants.
"It is what it is. But I’m glad to have you here." He flashes you a dimpled smile, his perfectly aligned teeth momentarily dazzling you. "My name’s Namjoon, by the way. I’ll be your landlord, caretaker, cook, and whatever else you need during your stay. Just let me know, and I’ll make it happen."
You shake his hand, startled by how cold your fingers still are. "Thank you so much, Namjoon! You already know my name, but this grump glued to your fireplace is Yoongi."
"Honeymoon?" Namjoon asks, with a teasing grin.
"Ew, no." Yoongi’s voice drips with disgust, and he doesn’t even flinch under your glare.
"What he means is, no, we’re cousins, spending the holidays together."
"Forced to spend—"
"Willingly."
"Threatened to—"
"Shut up, you agreed! Don’t make me look like an idiot."
"You nearly killed us."
"Oh, I did not! Stop lying."
Namjoon clears his throat, cutting off your bickering. You both turn to him sheepishly, like children being scolded by a parent. Your cheeks are burning, not just from the warmth but from the embarrassment of your argument.
"I’ll give you a tour of the place, then?" Namjoon offers, smiling warmly.
"Yes, please," you reply, eager to move past the awkwardness as soon as possible.
Yoongi struggles to tear himself away from the fireplace, but eventually, both of you follow Namjoon, who remains all smiles despite your rather unorthodox arrival.
“So, this is the main area. You can relax by the fireplace whenever you like—it’s lit all the time,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi, who still seems transfixed by the flames. “To the left are the rooms. There are only three, and yours is at the far end. I took the liberty of choosing the honeymoon suite because, well… you know what I thought. But honestly, it’s the best room here, so it’s no big deal.”
You swallow the urge to ask if it’s possible to have two separate rooms, but you’re running low on cash. Since you’ve become Yoongi’s unofficial sponsor for this trip, two rooms are out of the question. You just hope Yoongi has somehow outgrown his relentless snoring from childhood because, God forbid, you’ll be at your wit’s end if he ruins your sleep for two whole weeks.
“And to the right is my private room and the dining area. Any allergies I should know about?” Namjoon asks.
“No,” you and Yoongi reply in unison, sounding like textbook tourists. Not that you aren’t, but you’d rather it wasn’t so obvious.
“That’s good to hear. These days, everyone seems to have some kind of allergy or gut problem. I really don’t want to have to drive you to the hospital; it’s quite a distance from here…”
Namjoon stops mid-sentence, realising he’s rambling. You’re still standing there, bags in hand, coats on, now sweating from the warmth. You can only hope your body doesn’t rebel from the extreme change in temperature.
“This way, please,” Namjoon says, leading you towards your room. He swings the door open ceremoniously with an old-fashioned key in hand, and you and Yoongi follow, your heavy boots and coats disrupting the otherwise serene, festive atmosphere.
“Wow,” Yoongi murmurs, and it’s truly a sight that will stay with you forever.
It isn’t the room itself that takes your breath away, but the view. The wall facing the mountains is made entirely of glass, offering an uninterrupted view of the snow-covered slopes from peak to base. The storm has lessened without you noticing, revealing thick, heavy snowflakes gently falling, while the sun breaks through the grey clouds that shadowed your entire journey.
You watch as skiers and snowboarders carve their way down the mountainside, zigzagging effortlessly through the untouched snow. At the foot of the mountain, families are building snowmen and riding sleighs, laughter and joy visible even from this distance. It’s in moments like these, during those once-in-a-lifetime experiences, that your thoughts drift back to Jungkook. You find yourself wishing that things had turned out differently, that he could be here to share this with you.
You shouldn’t feel sad about it. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him, especially when he’s clearly moved on. Your relationship feels as distant and forgotten as a book written centuries ago—once beautiful, overflowing with fairytales too good to be true, but now irrelevant, no longer suited to withstand the test of time.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Namjoon’s voice pulls you back to the present, and for that, you’re grateful. Yoongi wouldn’t understand your feelings, and even if he did, he wouldn’t indulge your nostalgia over a past relationship—especially because it was your first and last.
“It is. Thank you for giving us this room, Namjoon. It’s more than I ever expected.”
Yoongi tosses his bag onto the floor by the bed, shrugs off his coat and shoes, and immediately flops onto the bed, his gaze fixed on the view.
“No worries, really. There’s a phone and a card with my number on it by the nightstand. If you need anything, come to reception. If I’m not there, knock on my door—I’m happy to help.”
Namjoon’s kindness and humility stir something in you. He’s incredibly good-looking, tall, and there’s something about his calm and friendly manner that makes you feel at ease. As he smiles at you, his dimples showing, you wonder if perhaps you might let yourself indulge in him a little—let him be the warmth you’ve been missing.
But for now, you’ll settle in. Let the next two weeks pass without forcing anything. You want to be swept up in whatever comes your way.
“I’m really happy I booked with you, Namjoon. You’ve been so kind, and this room is perfect. Thank you again.”
“Anytime.”
Your eyes linger on his for a moment longer than you’d admit was necessary, and you seize the opportunity to ask him a few more questions just to keep looking at him.
“So, I booked a snowboarding course through you. That starts tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, the instructor’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too but won’t arrive until right before your lesson. You booked the classes for a full week, correct?”
“Yeah, I thought a week would be enough, and we’ll practice on our own after that.”
“That should work well. He’s great at what he does and an excellent teacher. But if you need more help, he’ll still be around for the rest of your stay.”
“That’s good.” You’re only half-listening. Namjoon’s dimples and kind eyes are distracting you too much to focus on his words.
“Oh, before I forget—anything in town worth seeing? I’d love to stroll around today since we’ve got no schedule.”
“I’m not leaving this room,” Yoongi mutters, his voice dripping with boredom, but neither you nor Namjoon pay him any attention.
“Hm, there’s not a lot, but you should visit ‘Jimin’s Pastries.’ He supplies my bread, and his pastries and coffee are to die for.”
“That sounds perfect. I think I’ll check it out straight away—I’m starving,” you say with a bashful laugh. “You coming?” You ask Yoongi coldly, knowing the answer.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself. So, how do I get there?” Immediately you turn back to Namjoon.
“I could show you?”
There’s a slight hesitance in Namjoon’s offer, but it only makes him more endearing. You smile genuinely, feeling a little more charmed than you’d like to admit. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Great, let’s go then.” His easy-going nature doesn’t falter, even when Yoongi calls after you, “Bring me back some food!”
There’s no need to answer; the door to the room has already closed behind you, leaving Yoongi behind as well.
“I’ll just need to fetch my coat real quick.”
You follow Namjoon to the reception, your eyes drawn to the way his hips move with each step, the subtle flexing right in front of you. It’s not as if you objectify every attractive man you meet, but Namjoon clearly takes care of himself, and there’s nothing you can really do. After all, you’re no saint, and Namjoon is definitely one of those reasons you’ll never take a vow of celibacy.
He doesn’t take long to return, emerging from his room with a rather thin coat hugging his body, making you feel a little ridiculous in your thick down jacket. But there’s no way you’re changing now.
Ever the gentleman, Namjoon holds the hostel door open for you with a small smile, and you thank him silently as the bell above the door chimes again softly. You don’t let your thoughts drift too far—don’t let them wander back to that time when Jungkook told you he always thought he’d meet his soulmate when he heard a bell the first time he saw them.
Because you’re sure that’s just folklore, just a whimsical story, something for entertainment. And even though Namjoon seems like someone nice you could spend time with, the fanciful idea that he might be your soulmate because of a little bell is absurd.
Outside, the cold hasn’t let up one bit, though the storm and heavy snowflakes have finally ceased. But this time, you welcome the chill, grateful for the contrast to the stifling heat of the hostel and the layers you’re bundled in.
You walk side by side, heading deeper into the small town, and now that the air is clearer, you notice fairy lights strung across the street, bare trees decorated with quaint Christmas ornaments, and every house and shop adorned for the season.
“So, how long have you been running the hostel?” you ask, unwilling and not comfortable nor confident enough to let the silence stretch for too long, opting for small talk that feels so much more safer.
“It’s been a few years now. I took over when my father couldn’t run it anymore.”
“That’s a responsible thing to do. I’m sure he’s proud of you.”
You hadn’t noticed before, but Namjoon’s hair isn’t black at all. Now, as the sunlight reflects off his soft-looking strands, you realise it’s a dark brown, making him look much younger.
“He is.” Namjoon smiles bashfully, glancing down briefly as though to hide a slight blush. “I just hope I can keep things going as well as he did.”
“I’m sure you will. The place is lovely.”
“Thanks. But what’s really lovely is Jimin’s, which is right here.”
Namjoon gestures towards a small shop you hadn’t noticed before, stopping just a short walk from the hostel. You realise now that everything in this tiny town is within easy reach, which you find very convenient.
And he’s right, ‘Jimin’s Pastries’ looks jut as charming as the hostel. The building is old but beautifully restored, its large windows inviting you in without detracting from its historic charm, as though it’s withstood the test of time. The large windows must be new, but you suspect the struts are original, as is the interior you can spot from outside, and it makes you marvel at it instantly.
Namjoon leads the way inside, once again opening the door for you to step through first. Again, a soft chime rings above the door, and the first thing you see is a man behind the counter, slightly shorter than Namjoon, with a smile as radiant as the sun itself, his eyes crinkling into crescents, making him look oh-so-youthful and impossibly welcoming.
“Hey, hyung! Who’s this you’ve brought with you?” the man asks brightly, his voice as musical as a singer’s.
“This is ___, she’s my guest for the next two weeks. ___, this is Jimin.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Please, take a seat, make yourself at home! Namjoon, the usual?”
“Yeah, and some of your magic pastries. We’re starving, right?” Namjoon offers you a seat after taking your heavy coat, which you accept with a shy smile, feeling unaccustomed to such attentiveness.
“Yes, that sounds great. Thank you.”
“And what would you like to drink, ___?”
You squint up at the menu hanging above the counter while Namjoon takes his seat across from you after putting your coats on a rack near the entrance, but Jimin doesn’t give you much time to decide.
“Oh wait, I’ll bring you my special.”
With that, he sets to work, moving quickly around like a busy bee, and you take the opportunity to absorb and soak in the cosy, homey atmosphere.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Namjoon whispers over the sound of coffee beans being ground, leaning in slightly, his elbows resting on the table.
“It is. Thank you for showing me this place. I can’t wait to try everything—it all looks so delicious.”
The display of cakes and sweets is overwhelming, filled to the brim. The macarons, in particular, seem to call out to you, their bright colours practically begging to be tasted, looking almost too perfect to be real, knowing that you have to try them.
“I hope you like it as much as I do, or else I won’t know what to serve you for breakfast.”
You can’t help but giggle with Namjoon, his demeanour so warm and charming it’s impossible not to feel at ease.
“Here you go!” Jimin sings as he walks over with a tray nearly overflowing with pastries, balancing so many that even if you hadn’t eaten in days, you’re sure that there would still be leftovers. But you you’re not about to complain, secretly pleased you’ll get to taste almost everything on offer.
“The usual for Mister NJ, and here’s yours, beautiful,” Jimin winks cheekily, handing you a cup of coffee off the tray. You try to suppress the shy blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s really been a while since anyone’s flirted with you like this, and even if it’s maybe just playful, it’s not unwelcome, but simply unexpected.
“Thank you.”
You’re a bit surprised when Jimin pulls up a chair to sit between you and Namjoon, but thinking about it, it makes sense. There are no other customers at the moment, shop being completely empty except for you three, and it’s clear he’s close friends with Namjoon. Besides, you don’t mind; in fact, it’s comforting to be making these friendly connections, especially if you’re going to be here for two whole weeks. Maybe if these two weeks go well, you could see yourself coming back here one day.
Sensing the expectant looks from both men, their eyes flicking between your face and the cup of coffee in your hands, you finally take a sip—and are immediately thrown back to memories of Jungkook. The momentary peace you’d found is shattered as the familiar taste hits you. The coffee is good, wonderful even, just as perfect as you expected from Jimin’s first impression, but it tastes exactly like how Jungkook used to make it for you, though serving it in a normal cup seems rather…interesting now.
But Once, you loved the aftertaste of sweet iced Americano, loved the aftertaste after Jungkook had put his lips on yours. But now you’re alone. Now, you’re without him, and there’s nothing you can do but swallow it down, hoping your expression doesn’t give you away—hoping they don’t see how broken you really are and that you’re lying. Lying that you’re not stuck in an all time low for years now, lying that you’re not trying to fix your pride since.
“Wow, it tastes amazing!”
But both men jut blink at you now, and it’s only then that you realise your hands are trembling slightly, and that the smile you’ve tried so hard to put on doesn’t feel as genuine as you’d hoped.
“What’s wrong?” Jimin’s uneasy in an instant, his brow creasing. “Don’t you like it? Would you prefer something else?”
They both look rather too concerned for their own goods now. Jimin, too, tries to take the cup from your hands, but you hold it closer to you. It’s kind of sweet how strangers seem so empathetic towards you, and it somehow soothes the ache in your chest, even if it’s only a little, but not quite enough to make you forget.
“No! It’s perfect. I swear. It’s just that it reminds me of someone who’s no longer in my life.”
“Oh, my condolences.” Namjoon stretches out his hand, resting it gently on your lower arm with sad eyes.
“No! Oh gosh, no, it’s my ex. He’s alive, we just broke up.”
While Namjoon’s face falls into an embarrassed, crooked smile, taking his hand away, Jimin’s lights up like the fairy lights outside in the dawn. He wastes no time sliding closer to you, his wooden chair squeaking lightly on the tiled floor.
“Oh, tell me about it. Was it recent?”
You want to say yes, because even though it’s been a while since the split, it still feels like it was just hours ago. But at the same time, the time spent apart from Jungkook feels like an eternity, too unbearable to survive, really.
“Uhm, no, it’s been years, actually.”
And that shifts the whole room into chaos. Jimin doesn’t miss a beat before suggesting, “You just need to get properly dicked down, one good time.”
Namjoon looks even more embarrassed, trying in vain to get Jimin to shut up, while you sit there watching them argue about whether or not Jimin’s suggestion is the right way to help you forget your ‘scruffy ex’—his words, not yours or Namjoon’s.
“Actually, I’m not really interested in finding someone new at the moment.”
“See! I told you! Just let her be!” Namjoon leans back in his chair with a proud, triumphant smile on his face, crossing his arms as if he’s known you for years, which, obviously, he doesn’t. His glasses slide down his nose, making him look less convincing than he should.
“Oh, shut up, she just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe we could set her up with C. I think they’d look cute together.”
“I don’t know, man, you’re kind of right, but he’s not looking for anyone either.”
“That’s perfect! Wait, tell me something about yourself, I need to check if you’d vibe with him.” Jimin again leans in close, his elbows resting on the table between you, hands framing his chiseled jawline as he looks at you with sparkling, excited eyes.
You’re not sure what’s just happened, or who this ‘C’ is. And especially, you’re unsure how to answer the request to ‘tell them something about yourself’. Do you tell them about the introverted self you once were or maybe still are deep down? Your default so to say? Or do you describe the ‘new’, in your opinion uncomfortable self you’re desperately trying to become? At this point, you’re not even sure who you are, and the realisation exhausts you more than the drive here did.
“I…hm…I’m more the type of person who’s calm and doesn’t like a lot of adventures or risky things. So, I don’t think there’s really anyone out there who could handle that.” Yeah, great way to spark someone’s interest—talking down on yourself should definitely be added to your list of traits.
“Oh, that’s perfect. C’s been out of his mind for years. He definitely needs someone to balance him out. The dude’s mental.”
You raise an eyebrow at that, eyes flickering between Namjoon and Jimin. If he’s mental, why would Jimin want you to get involved with him? You’ve got enough of your own problems; babysitting a potential partner is the last thing you want to do.
“Oh no, he’s not mental mental, just a bit too reckless. He’s searching for something no one really understands. I reckon he’s just looking for love, or to be loved, but he’s obviously not finding it.”
“Oh... I see…” You nod vaguely, trying to piece together the information being thrown at you without getting whiplash. “But, uh, who is C, exactly?”
“He’s your snowboard instructor, actually,” Namjoon chimes in. From the look on his face, he’s completely on board with Jimin’s idea as well.
“And his name is C?”
“We call him that. It’s short for BSC, which is short for Babystarcandy.” Jimin beams at you, as if this explanation makes perfect sense.
“I reckon that’s not his actual name?” You deadpan.
“Gosh, no! That would be ridiculous.” Jimin waves his hands exaggeratedly while Namjoon chuckles. “His actual name is—”
The loud ringtone of Namjoon’s phone makes all three of you jump, Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” blasting from his coat.
“Sorry, I’ll just get that.” Namjoon stumbles off his chair, tripping over his own feet. He grabs his coat at the last moment, pulling it to the floor with him as the hook breaks under the weight.
“Not again,” Jimin sighs, rubbing his eyes with both hands as he sinks further into his chair. “I swear to God, one day—”
“Why am I calling myself?” Namjoon wonders aloud before quickly answering, “Hello?”
You can’t hear the other side of the conversation from across the room, but Namjoon doesn’t seem confused for long. He responds joyfully, “Of course. We’re heading back now... sure... bye.”
“You’re going to pay for that repair,” Jimin mutters as soon as Namjoon hangs up and gets to his feet, tucking his phone into his trousers and pulling on his coat.
“Of course, I always do. That was Yoongi, by the way. He’s hungry and wants us to bring him food. Sooo, could you pack up all the pastries?”
“Yes, of course!” Jimin jumps up immediately, gathering everything together while you watch longingly as he takes the macarons too. But you��re not too sad—you’ll just gobble them as soon as you’re back in your room.
You stand, finishing your coffee in one go, knowing that even though you can taste the caffeine from how strong it is, it won’t do much once your stomach’s full. You’re simply too knackered after today to stay awake longer than necessary.
“Yoongi called you from your hostel phone?”
“Yeah, he didn’t know another way.”
“I can’t with him; he’s so shameless sometimes.” Namjoon helps you into your coat, a gesture you’d like to get used to again—the simple act is just too sweet not to fall in love with.
“Ah, I don’t mind. I like people like him; they’re always honest.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Here come the treats!” Jimin sings as he swings open the door to the back room. The pastries are now securely packed in a paper bag, which he hands to you. “Thanks for coming by, and make sure to come tomorrow too. We’re not done talking, especially after you meet C in person!”
You can’t help but laugh with them both. It’s refreshing to feel joy and fun around you without having to put yourself at risk with some nonsense activity. But if you’re honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have met them if it weren’t for that very activity.
“Thanks, Jimin. I appreciate it. And we’ll see if I’m still alive after tomorrow.”
“You will be—C will take good care of you,” Jimin winks again, and with that, the door chime sounds as Namjoon opens it for you. “Goodnight!”
“Goodnight,” you and Namjoon say in unison, stepping into the cold night as the wind bites at your face again. The fairy lights now illuminate the whole street, ornaments reflecting their red and gold hues, looking like something straight out of a film. Children are still up, playing in the snow and running around, while couples stroll along the pavement.
It’s a scene you wish you could see every day, and as you make your way back to the hostel with Namjoon by your side, you can’t help but glance up at him now and then as he talks about the small details of the town’s history, C and Jungkook momentarily forgotten.
Day 1
You regret bringing Yoongi with you. So much so, you want to cry and never stop.
It’s not like he’s bad company—not all the time, anyway—but sharing a room with him puts everything into perspective. His snoring hasn’t lessened one bit since childhood; in fact, you’re pretty sure it’s gotten worse. There’s no way you’ll get an ounce of rest if you keep sleeping in the same room, so you decide to ask Namjoon at breakfast if there’s any chance you can switch to the other spare room.
Lying awake all night until Yoongi got up at ass o’clock, leaving the room with his laptop and other gear, had you contemplating every life decision you’ve ever made, including the ones yet to come. Isn’t it ridiculous what you’ve got yourself into again? Sure, you’re kind of sporty, but when it comes to risky sports like snowboarding, you’d much rather watch others do it than try it yourself but here you are.
You’re sure if Jungkook had seen the way you’ve been living these past few years, he’d laugh. Not that he’d ridicule you—he’s not that type—but you’re certain the clown you’ve become would disgust him as much as it disgusts you.
You’re not sure if it’s healthy to still be so hung up on your ex, or if it’s just normal when you’ve lost the love of your life. Normal in the sense that every thought circles back to him, like you’ve taken the fall for some drug called Jeon Jungkook.
You’ll probably have to search the internet for a rehab clinic that specialises in self-inflicted heartbreak because after this adventure, there’s no way you’re doing anything like this again. Enough is enough. Especially when there’s possibly, just maybe, a potential partner—someone cozy and inviting, like Namjoon—who might actually like you for who you really are.
It’s still early, but you need to get up and grab some breakfast, knowing today’s course will be physically draining if you attempt it on an empty stomach. You’re certain that dragging Yoongi out will take extra time you don’t have to spare. The thought of making a bad first impression on C terrifies you, not only because he’s a stranger, but because, as Namjoon said, he’s coming here just for you.
Groaning, you force yourself out of bed. The room has cooled slightly overnight, which wasn’t a problem under the thick duvet, but now you can’t seem to handle the cold as well as you usually do. Rushing into the en-suite, you’re first greeted by the warmth of the heated floor, and then by the horrifying sight of your reflection.
“Please, don’t,” you plead, as if your reflection could magically change the image of your swollen face, a result of the ridiculous amount of pastries you munched last night. Your dark circles look more like war paint than the result of a restless night—a far cry from a cute quirk.
There’s no point in using much makeup, not when you’re going to be snowboarding—or rather learning how to—all day, so you settle for a bit of concealer. It takes a lot of mental pep talk to leave the blush behind, knowing the cold will soon give you rosy cheeks and a red nose the second you step outside the hostel.
Getting dressed is a bit easier; you throw on some thermal black gear, braid your hair into two sections, and leave the room in search of either Namjoon or Yoongi.
It’s no surprise to find Yoongi by the fireplace again, empty plate and coffee nearby, but seeing Namjoon beside him—Yoongi clicking away on his laptop while Namjoon raps into a microphone—leaves you speechless. There’s a whole side of Namjoon you hadn’t seen before. Sure, you only met him 12 hours ago, but you never would’ve imagined, in a million years, hearing him angrily spitting line after line. And despite his usual softness, this harshness leaves you nearly gasping for air.
What are you supposed to do? You’ve always had a weak spot for bad boys, men who exude confidence. And Namjoon is definitely giving off that vibe right now.
“Oh baby, what’s your name?”
The whimper that escapes your mouth is so embarrassing, especially when both men look up at you—Namjoon halting mid-rap—that you can’t, for the life of you, figure out what’s wrong with you. Are you really this pathetic, or was Jimin right all along? Maybe you just need a good shag to recalibrate your brain to normal. It’s been years, and considering the state you’re in now, something’s surely got to change.
You muster whatever dignity you have left and greet them as casually as possible, “Good morning.”
Yoongi, ever the ray of sunshine, doesn’t bother turning away from his laptop, clicking away as if you’re just a fly that’s wandered in. But Namjoon? He meets your eyes with a smile that could rival the dawn itself.
“Morning! Ready for breakfast?”
“Yes, please.”
You’re smitten, and there’s no hiding it as he leads you to the dining area. A table is already set, and you recognise Jimin’s bread in an instant. Knowing how hungry you are after your late-night binge, you waste no time sitting down, your eyes glued to the treats and toppings on offer.
“Fancy a coffee?”
“Black would be perfect!”
“Not a sweet tooth?” Namjoon jokes, pouring you a cup from the thermos flask, the rich aroma battling with the scent of the food.
“Not in the morning.” You smile up at him.
“Probably because you’re sweet enough straight out of bed.”
His wink nearly makes you faint, and it’s clear that while Namjoon’s good with his tongue when rapping, he’s also very smooth with it. You wonder if…
“I guess so,” you mumble, too flustered to look him in the eye now.
He chuckles quietly and sits opposite you, not bothering to eat himself.
“Not hungry?” you ask, feeling a bit more composed as you distract yourself by preparing your breakfast.
“Nope, I just ate. Just wanted to keep you company.”
“That’s nice of you, thanks. I really hate eating alone, though I do it almost every meal. So, I appreciate it.”
“No worries, I’m happy to keep you company.”
“So, you rap?”
A lazy smirk forms on Namjoon’s face, his head tilted up slightly, and you know full well he’s aware of what he did to your hormones minutes ago. He only hums in confirmation.
Cocky. But you like it, and it suits him. You just hope he’s not too confident—that would be a massive turnoff.
“Side hustle or hobby?”
“Hobby, but Yoongi’s been putting a bee in my bonnet, to be honest.”
“He’s persistent when it comes to talent.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m talented, but he’s a dope producer. I didn’t recognise him at first, but man, I’m lucky to have him here. A literal world star staying in my hostel. I’m gonna have to make a wall of fame or something.”
You snort at that because as ridiculous as it sounds seeing Yoongi on a ‘wall of fame’, Namjoon’s not wrong. Yoongi is world-famous, though he prefers to keep a low profile, which you admire. Well, most of the time. Him being this tight with the expenses of the trip leaves a bit of a sour taste in your mouth—not caused by the coffee, that’s for sure.
“Are you famous too, by any chance?”
You snort again, “You wish.”
“Shame.”
“Tell me about it. Even though I’m the broke one, I’m still the one sugar-mommying him,” you mumble through your bites, not wanting to waste time without filling your stomach.
Namjoon’s laugh lights up the morning even further, and you’re all too glad you booked this hostel. It would’ve been miserable spending your time alone while Yoongi’s off doing his own thing every chance he gets.
“Any chance of getting a separate room?”
“Why?”
“I can’t spend another night lying awake because of Yoongi’s snoring.”
You look at each other, and suddenly the inconvenience doesn’t seem as bad as it did all night. Namjoon’s laugh is going to be your secret weak spot from now on.
“Sure, I’ll just move your luggage if you haven’t unpacked yet.”
“That’d be great. Thanks so much.”
“No worries.” Namjoon watches you for a bit while you eat, like it’s the most fascinating thing happening to him.
You don’t mind at all—it’s not awkward—but you can tell you’re running out of time by how slowly you’re eating.
“When do we have to leave? Is C here already?”
“Yeah, he got here a few hours ago but went straight to the slopes. You’ve got a few more minutes. I’ve sorted out some gear for you at Hope’s. He’ll give you everything you need for the week.”
It’s a relief knowing Namjoon has thought of everything, especially since you’re not fond of surprises or poorly planned outings.
“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”
“It’s my job, ___.” He winks at you again, and if you weren’t so focused on shovelling food down, you’d probably melt into your seat.
“All done,” you mumble through your last bite, crumbs shamelessly falling as you stand up.
“Perfect timing. I told Yoongi how to get to Hope’s; it’s not far.”
Not wanting to thank him yet again like a broken record, you just nod and follow him to the main room, where Yoongi’s already by the door, waiting. You’re not sure why he’s so eager when he didn’t even want to come in the first place, but you don’t dwell on it as you say goodbye to Namjoon and head out, Yoongi handing you your coat.
The walk to Hope’s? You’re not really sure despite Namjoon mentioning the name twice, but to the guy who runs the ski and snowboard equipment hire shop indeed isn’t far.
As soon as you step into his shop, you’re hit with the sight of all kinds of winter sports gear and old-school rap blaring at full volume—likely coming from some speakers behind the counter where the seller greets you.
“Hey! How can I help you?”
“Hey, we’re guests of Namjoon and—”
“___ and Yoongi! Of course, Namjoon’s already told me! I’m Hoseok!”
“Weird.”
“Shut up,” you hiss at Yoongi. “That’s perfect. It’s our first time, and there’s no way we’d know what we need.”
“I’ve got you. Just follow me, I’ll start by getting the right boots for you.”
“Thanks.”
There are so many boots in all sorts of colours and sizes that you’re not sure if they’re all for hire or if some are for sale, but it doesn’t really matter. There’s no way you’re going snowboarding again after these two weeks, so you’d gladly pick whatever’s the comfiest.
Yoongi, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to share that thought, picking out the most expensive-looking boots. Truth be told, they do look the fanciest, and if you were as loaded as him, you’d go wild too. It’s with a jolt that you remember you’re the one paying for all this, and there’s no way you could afford the ones Yoongi’s holding up to inspect.
“Put them back,” you hiss, slapping his hand, scolding him for being so careless with your expenses.
“Ouch, that’s rude.”
“I’m not paying for them. Put them back before you damage them and I end up bankrupt.”
“So, what sizes do you usually wear?” Hoseok interrupts, completely unfazed by your bickering.
“Seven and a half.”
“Three and a half.”
“Dwarf.”
“Bigfoot.”
“I’ll bring you one size up,” Hoseok says with a smile. “Any particular colour you fancy?”
“Purple.”
“Black.”
“Got it, I’ll be right back.”
He leaves you both at the rack, disappearing behind a curtain into the back room.
“Could you stop embarrassing me, please?”
“I didn’t do shit, ___. Stop whining.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Need I remind you I’m doing you a favour here? Where’s the respect?”
“Sorry, oppa,” you bat your eyelashes at him mockingly.
“Say that again and I’m leaving.”
“How? Tony’s petrol’s empty. You’re going to walk home?”
“Bet.”
Just as you roll your eyes, Hoseok returns with two shoeboxes and two helmets, placing them down on a bench.
“I’ve brought you brand new ones. There weren’t many in your sizes I’d be comfortable renting out.”
Yoongi and you sit on opposite sides of the boxes while Hoseok removes the packaging from the new boots. Yours are purple, but just the laces and stitching—the rest is black, which gives them a more grown-up look compared to kids’ shoes. You fall in love with them instantly and eagerly grab one to put it on. But no luck.
Even though they’re fully open, you can’t seem to get your foot inside, despite your efforts. You stomp on the ground, pulling at the boot with both hands, but it’s no use. Yoongi, of course, isn’t struggling at all—typical, he’s good at everything.
“Here, let me help,” Hoseok kneels in front of you, securing your calf and the boot, angling the heel to the floor. “Now stand up and push your foot in.”
You do as he says, and with a soft, satisfying ‘plop’, your foot slides in without a hitch. “Thanks! That was easy!”
You repeat the process with the other boot, tightening the laces and clasps, then stand to take a few steps. You stumble slightly, not used to the weight and bulk of the boots, but soon get the hang of it.
“They need to fit quite snugly. When you’re fully geared up, make sure to fasten them as tight as possible. Otherwise, you’ll go flying, and your board will stay on the snow.”
“Oh. Right. Okay. Yeah, sure.”
You don’t like this. You don’t like the idea or the mental image of being catapulted out of your boots while your snowboard says c’est la vie.
To your amazement, the helmets Hoseok picked for you and Yoongi fit perfectly as well.
“If you’re feeling good, let’s get you sorted with snowsuits, yeah?”
You nod and attempt to follow Hoseok, but Yoongi pulls you back down onto the bench, your ass hitting the hard surface with a rather painful thud.
“Take them off, idiot. How are you going to get a suit on with those still on?”
Ugh… it’s obvious, really, but you’re too stressed and anxious about snowboarding to function properly. It’s in moments like this that you start spiralling, regretting your decision all over again. You’re not sure what gave your thoughts away, but Yoongi seems to notice the shift in your mood, as he rests a hand on your knee.
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m here. Don’t stress.”
You lock eyes with him, and you can see a bit of regret there. It’s normal for you two to bicker and take the piss out of each other, but it’s also normal for you both to care. You love each other, like cousins do, and part of you regrets ever thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing him on this trip. Because honestly, there’s no one else in your life right now you’d rather do this with.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s all good. You’ve got this, okay?”
You just nod, loosening the clasps and laces to take the boots off and helmet, then walk in your socks over to where Hoseok is rummaging through racks of snowsuits.
It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to get your right sizes and for Yoongi to disappear into the changing room first. You’re not really sure how to start a conversation with him, but thankfully you’re saved by the shop’s phone ringing.
“Excuse me,” Hoseok smiles politely, walking towards the counter where the phone is obviously placed.
“Hope’s, how can I help you?”
You hold the snowboard jacket in front of your chest, admiring its intricate design in the mirror hanging in front of you, trying not to obviously listen in on the call.
“Jaykaaaaay.”
You freeze, the nickname ringing all sorts of alarm bells in your head. There’s no way it’s Jungkook; like, literally, there might be a million other people with that nickname. You need to calm down somehow, because if your anxiety rises any further than it already has, you’re sure you’re going to die from heart failure.
Hoseok’s repeated and drawn-out calling of this nickname doesn’t help in the slightest, and you reckon that if he repeats it one more time, you’d punch him in the face, even though you’re so not the type to be violent. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
Thankfully, the cheerful shouts stop, and Hoseok listens in until he locks eyes with you, a smile forming. You try to figure out if all the people in this town have such perfect teeth, if there’s a dentist who works magic, or if everyone just has perfect high-end genetics you could only dream of.
“Yeah, they’re here at the moment.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. What do Yoongi and you have to do with this phone call?
“Just a few more minutes. I’ll send them to the beginners’ hill when we’re finished, yeah?”
Okay, hold up—it must be the instructor on the other line, and Namjoon and Jimin called him C, but Hoseok just called him Jaykay, which has nothing to do with C nor BSC. Was it even BSC? Anyway. There’s a very real chance that it’s definitely not Jungkook, because, shame on you, you’ve seen him post a picture from Hawaii last night on socials, which, obviously, isn’t here.
You don’t feel the need to ask Hoseok who it was or what’s going on with these multiple nicknames. For all you care, it could be a 50-year-old, and you’re stressing yourself out for nothing.
Hoseok comes to your side after he’s hung up, and Yoongi emerges at this moment too, though he’s not modelling his snowboard suit but has it draped over his arm.
“Fits,” is all Yoongi says, nodding once in Hoseok’s direction.
“Perfect, now it’s your turn.” Hoseok gestures for you to the changing room, and you don’t waste any more time. The faster you’re out of here, the faster this day is over, and that’s all you want as the snowboarding course gets closer.
“Thanks,” you mumble, searching for Yoongi’s eyes for just a little more reassurance, but he’s already too busy having a normal and civil conversation with Hoseok, something you wish he’d do more often with you.
There’s not much room in the changing room, especially when the snowboard trousers are this wide and baggy, so you fall against the walls multiple times, trying not to faceplant onto the floor.
“You good?” Hoseok’s voice is heard from outside, and it’s so unbelievably embarrassing realising that Yoongi had no struggle trying the clothes on because there wasn’t a sound coming from him. Not because the walls are thick or soundproof—no, because he’s simply doing well, like every human being should.
“Yeah!” you call, hoping that the high-pitched tone of your voice doesn’t give you away. But who are you kidding? There’s the low but unmistakable giggle and some mumbled words from Yoongi, followed by Hoseok’s shrill laughter.
You’re going to kill Yoongi, going to push him down the hill and watch him become a snowball and crash into the abyss of a glacier. Stupid moron—you should have left him at home and come alone, and the sharp tug of your jacket’s zipper punctuates your resentment perfectly.
The anger fades as fast as it came, because you look like the coolest professional snowboarder on earth. You twist and turn, make a bum-check, but realise there’s not much to see in these oversized clothes. Still, you feel good in them, especially as your body heat multiplies, which is the best sign that you’ll survive all day in the snow.
Knowing you’ll have to leave as soon as you’re finished, you take the jacket off and rip the price tag away. After undoing the trousers and doing the same, you don’t care if the gear is expensive. Even if so, you’d still use it for sledging or in case of a blizzard or something. You’re sure you’ll get creative with its use.
Sipping everything back up, you collect your down jacket and step out of the changing room, not as elegantly as usual, but more with a rustle and a slight swaying due to the fabric. You can’t suppress the smile that grows on your lips, Yoongi and Hoseok looking equal parts amused and approving of your appearance. You’re all going to get a good laugh out of it when you’re wearing the snowboard boots as well, and that’s all you need right now—humour to suppress the anxiety.
Two snowboards are already lined up. Hoseok helps you into the boots again, while Yoongi masters dressing himself like a real grown-up.
“C’s going to adjust the boot holders on the snowboards for you, so you can just take them with you as they are. They fit your height. And you can leave your shoes and jackets here and collect them whenever you’re finished for the day.”
“That’d be great.”
“Thanks, Jwe-Hope.”
You side-eye Yoongi. Why’s he getting soft with Hoseok? And why does he give him yet another nickname, as if the man doesn’t already have enough?
“No prob, Yoongi hyung,” Hoseok says in an exaggeratedly playful tone, while Yoongi dabs him goodbye.
You’re fascinated by how Hoseok managed to melt the ‘Ice King’s’ heart in the few minutes you were away, and it’s even more fascinating how Yoongi just heads for the door without you even having paid yet.
“Yo, wait! I need to pay!”
“Yep, I’m outside having a smoke.”
There’s nothing you can do as Yoongi leaves without even turning back, your shoulders dropping in defeat.
“I’d like to pay, please.”
Hoseok nods with a smile and you follow him to the register. He scans one tag after the other, the price skyrocketing while your bank account starts to scream in the background.
“That’ll be 899 dollars,” he beams.
Your smile is wobbly, as is your hand as you hand over your credit card, knowing that this trip will be more expensive than you ever thought.
“Thanks again, Hoseok.”
“No problem, and please call me Hope.”
“Sure, Hope,” you say, securing your credit card in the inner pocket of your jacket. “Have a nice day, and see you later.”
“See ya, bye!” He waves enthusiastically as you head for the door, interrupting Eminem’s Godzilla with your stomping and rattling. How ironic.
Yoongi’s leaning against the shop’s wall as you step outside, just about to take a drag of his cigarette as he notices you glaring at him. Snatching the cigarette from his lips, you take a drag yourself.
“Thought you quit.”
“Give me a break, I need to calm my nerves.”
“Reckon some coke would be better, you’d feel invincible and wouldn’t be scared shitless.”
“Reckon you could just shut up, yeah?”
He just laughs as you give him his cigarette back and make your way to where you assume the slope is.
“This way.”
You stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath with closed eyes. You don’t want to go off at him again; you’ll need every ounce of energy, and wasting it by bickering isn’t the way to go.
Reluctantly, with the snowboard and helmet awkwardly clasped in your hands, you manage to follow Yoongi, though walking on asphalt is rather uncomfortable in these boots, though the walk might be again very short.
True to that, arriving in a few minutes at the beginner’s hill is a bit sobering. The hill’s neither high nor steep, even kids with sledges would probably call it boring, but you don’t mind one bit. Honestly, it’s perfect for you. No real chance of getting hurt and ending up like one of those cute little animals from Happy Tree Friends.
Off to the side, there’s the lift access and the main slopes, with skiers and snowboarders already queuing up for their first or maybe their nth lift of the day.
One snowboarder shooting down the steepest hill, which just so happens to be the only one of its kind, catches your attention. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, and the way he moves is hypnotic. You can’t help but think he must be a pro, maybe even an Olympian.
“Look! He’s so good.” You point him out to Yoongi, who shifts from looking bored to mildly impressed.
“Why’s he coming our way, though?”
“No way.”
But it’s true. He’s definitely your instructor. And not some fifty-year-old guy, either. There’s a lump in your throat you can’t quite swallow, especially because this guy’s height seems just a little too familiar… maybe too much like Jungkook’s. As far as you remember, at least.
You try to reason with yourself. Tell yourself there’s no way this is happening, because he’s got to be in Hawaii—Instagram stories and TikToks made that pretty clear, playing the role of a drunk uncle on family gatherings who can’t keep personal matters shut. You cling to that thought as the man stops a few feet away from you. You cling to it when he takes off his helmet, revealing just a black balaclava. You cling to it even when his eyes give him away.
But when he pulls off the balaclava, all you’re left with is the crushing realisation that you’re absolutely, without a doubt, screwed.
“Hey.”
Jungkook’s voice hasn’t changed much—maybe it’s a little rougher, could be also just from the cold—but it’s still the sound that makes you want to cry. Or run. Honestly, either would work right now.
His eyes lock onto yours, and all you can do is stare, wide-eyed, as if he’s some unreal figure, like a fairytale character suddenly brought to life.
You’ve watched Jungkook mature over the last few years—not in person, but still. You’ve seen the piercings he’s got and the tattoos currently hidden beneath his gear and gloves, and you’re suddenly more than aware that even though he was perfect back then and you shouldn’t have persuaded him to get piercings and tattoos, he’s become the one man you always knew he would be, if not more.
“S’up,” Yoongi just nodding.
That makes Jungkook glance at him, almost as if he’s only just noticed he’s standing there. A small frown forms on his face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came, and he holds out his gloved fist for Yoongi to bump.
“I’m Jeon Jungkook, your instructor.”
“Min Yoongi.”
“The producer Min Yoongi?”
“The one and only.”
Jungkook glances back and forth between you and Yoongi several times, and it dawns on you—he doesn’t know you and Yoongi are cousins. Yoongi was abroad the entire time you were with Jungkook and only came back right after the split, so of course, he never met him. And this… this is something you can work with. Maybe you can use it to keep Jungkook at arm’s length, or at the very least, avoid a complete emotional meltdown if Jungkook’s indeed moved on.
So you laugh softly and link your arm with Yoongi’s, resting your head on his shoulder, who just looks down at you, clearly confused by your sudden affection but, to his credit, says nothing. He knows you well enough to trust there’s a reason behind it.
“___.”
“Jungkook.”
“You two know each other?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s my ex.” Jungkook’s smile isn’t the warm, beautiful one you remember. No, it’s that slightly unhinged smile, the one with his head tilted just so, and it makes you silently gulp.
“That ex?” Yoongi asks, even though he knows full well there’s only one. You reckon he caught on quickly to the game you’re playing.
You hum in agreement, but Jungkook can’t help himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Luckily, Yoongi knows how to steer a conversation. “Aren’t we supposed to be learning how to snowboard?”
There’s a brief pause, and you see the way Jungkook’s nostrils flare slightly as he takes a deep, calming breath.
“Yes, sorry. Let’s get started.”
Jungkook bends down to unclip his boots from his board and stands up again, tossing his board into the snow so it sticks upright. Yoongi follows suit, shoving his board into the snow like it’s second nature. You try to copy them but fail miserably, wondering how they made it look so easy when the snow’s this solid.
“Here, let me help.” Yoongi, surprisingly, helps you without his usual snarky comments about your lack of strength.
“Alright,” Jungkook claps once to grab your attention. “Before we get into any of the fancy stuff, let’s talk theory. Snowboarding’s all about awareness. It’s not just physical—you’ve got to keep your head in the game.”
“Awareness? Like, where you’re looking?” Yoongi asks dryly, acting dumb you know he isn’t.
“Exactly. Where you’re looking, where your body’s pointing,” Jungkook gestures bizarrely between you and himself, barely glancing at Yoongi. “That’s where you’ll go. Simple as that. If you’re distracted—by, say, something or someone—you’ll lose focus. And losing focus means losing control.”
Yoongi, unfazed, just rolls with it, clearly enjoying the little drama Jungkook seems keen to stir up. “Makes sense. Keep your eyes on the path ahead, yeah?”
“Exactly, mate. Eyes forward, always. But it’s more than just looking. It’s feeling the terrain beneath you. Even when you’re standing still, you’re never really still. You need to sense the environment. Be present, y’know?”
You nod, though in reality, you’ve got no clue what he’s talking about.
“Some people, though,” Jungkook continues, “they get distracted easily. Head in the clouds. Or… elsewhere.”
Oh, you’re not letting that slide. Whether he’s jabbing at you, Yoongi, or both, you’re not having it. “Could you just explain the theory without the snide remarks?”
Jungkook’s taken aback, holding both hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, just trying to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
You just shake your head, and he carries on.
“Right. Balance—this is key. It’s all about your centre of gravity. Too stiff, and you’ll fall over. Too loose, and you’ll just flop around.”
“Don’t want that, do we?” Yoongi smirks, clearly challenging Jungkook to keep his little act going.
“No, mate, you really don’t. Trust me. You need to find that sweet spot—controlled, but relaxed. Kind of like…” he glances at you, “when you’ve got things under control in your life, but you’re still going with the flow, yeah?”
Your eyes narrow at him, but you bite your tongue. There’s no point in calling him out when Yoongi’s clearly enjoying winding him up.
“Sounds like life advice, that. Keepin’ balance, goin’ with the flow.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, “Not that everyone takes it to heart.”
Oh, no, he did not just say that. You never expected Jungkook to be this petty. He’s the one who moved on first. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing. Anyway, let’s get warmed up. Let’s do some exercises using the hill.”
You thought that ‘warming up’ would mean some jumping jacks and stretching, but oh, how wrong you are.
Jungkook has you and Yoongi running up and down the beginner’s hill without regret, and honestly, you can now confirm—it’s very much steeper than it looks.
While Jungkook just looks on, you and Yoongi can’t stop laughing and joking about how you are both panting like you’d just run a marathon, earning you multiple scoldings from Jungkook to stay focused. Not that it matters much, considering the only thing worth focusing on was trying to catch your breath—you nearly passed out twice at this point.
Despite Yoongi also being knackered, he still holds up better than you, but you can’t help but to clap him on the ass with a sarcastic “atta girl” more than once, which not only annoys him but seems to make Jungkook’s jaw clench in irritation too.
After what feels like the tenth climb, Jungkook finally calls it, walking towards you. “Enough. Short break.”
You and Yoongi groan in relief, collapsing onto the snow, letting your breathing slow down gradually. Only now, as you lie there exhausted, do you notice how beautiful the day is, the sky almost completely clear of clouds. From the position of the sun, you reckon it’s close to lunchtime, your stomach already growling in gratitude at the thought of food after all this exercise.
Turning your head to the side, you glance over at Yoongi, who’s also lying on the cool snow, admiring the sky. Suddenly, you feel sentimental. You really hit the jackpot having him as a cousin—he’s probably the most reliable person you know. It’s moments like this, especially when he turns to look at you with those soft eyes and that warm smile, that remind you how much you appreciate him. Reaching out, you intertwine your hands, knowing he’ll understand the rare moment of affection and let it happen for once.
“Thanks for doing this with me.”
“Anytime.” Yoongi squeezes your hand, his gummy smile spreading across his face, a trait he’s clearly inherited from his dad.
Jungkook’s rather aggressive throat-clearing reminds you that you’re indeed not alone. Your petty ex is standing right there, looking as irritated as he’s been all day.
“Let’s do some stretches, then we’ll get on the boards,” he says, trying to mask his annoyance but clearly fails.
You and Yoongi drag yourselves up, lining up in front of Jungkook like school kids, who’s about to demonstrate some stretch when, in the distance, someone calls out Jungkook’s nickname—one you’ve found increasingly odd now.
“C!”
There’s a beautiful woman running towards him waving energetically, the same woman you saw in pictures with him on social media.
“Hara!” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop her up when she’s near, lifting her off the ground as they giggle together.
You’d never admit it, but the sight makes you feel physically sick. You’d rather gouge your eyes out than watch this scene unfold ever again. At least you’ve made Jungkook believe you’re with Yoongi—otherwise, you’re not sure how you’d survive the fresh stab to your heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” she scolds him playfully, tapping his arm while he still holds her hands.
You can’t bear the sight of his eyes sparkling for someone else, so you turn to Yoongi, who’s raising an eyebrow at you, silently asking if you’re okay. There’s no need to respond. You both know the truth—you’re still not over your ex. But what could you have done? Begged him to take you back before he found someone else? No. That’s not who you are, and you wouldn’t have stopped him from living the life he clearly enjoys now.
But seeing him today, seeing how hurt he is just by the sight of you—or rather, you with someone else—makes you uneasy. Especially when Hara is being overly affectionate with him.
“Oh, how rude of me. I’m Hara.” She turns to you, extending her delicate hand. You briefly consider ignoring her, but you decide to be the bigger person. Unlike Jungkook, who’s been cold all day, you take off your glove and shake her hand, introducing yourself politely. Take that, Jungkook.
She moves on to Yoongi, and after he introduces himself, her face lights up like a kid at Christmas.
“Oh my God! I’m such a fan! You’re, like, the best producer ever!” she gushes, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to burst out laughing at the sour expression on Jungkook’s face.
You: 2, Jungkook: 0.
“Really?” you ask with a mischievous grin, keen to twist the knife further. “Oppa, you should definitely sign something for her, don’t you think?”
Yoongi shoots you a look that could kill, but he simply smiles, his eyes betraying all the curses he’s silently aiming at you. “Of course.”
Still clutching Yoongi’s hand like it’s a lifeline, Hara turns her head back to Jungkook. “Oh my God! Did you hear that, C?”
“I heard,” Jungkook replies through gritted teeth. “Why are you out here in the cold, by the way?”
“Oh, right. I came to tell you that Namjoon’s arranged lunch at Tae’s.”
“That’s nice of him,” you sing sweetly, unable to resist adding a little extra honey to your voice. Everyone else gets your praise, everyone but Jungkook. Maybe you’re just as petty as he is, but you’re not backing down now, especially not when you can see his patience fraying by the second, his eyes dark with annoyance. A reaction is a reaction at this point.
“Oh, and before I forget,” Hara continues, turning and clinging to Jungkook’s arm and batting her eyelashes at him, “can you pretty, pretty please come to Jin’s tonight and tomorrow? We need help getting everything ready for the party in two days.”
It’s odd seeing Jungkook so easily swayed by her, the kind of behaviour you never thought he’d entertain. But maybe he’s changed, or maybe you never knew him as well as you thought.
“Sure, anything for you.”
Yep, you’re definitely going to throw up in the snow.
“What party?” Yoongi pipes up, earning himself a mental kick from you. There’s no way you’re attending a party where Jungkook will be.
“An early Christmas party! You’re both invited, of course. From what I’ve heard from Jimin and Namjoon, you two fit right in with everyone here,” she giggles.
For once, you and Jungkook seem to be on the same page, as he starts, “I’m sure they’ve got better—”
But for what feels like the hundredth time today, Yoongi interrupts, “No, we’d love to come. Thanks for inviting us.”
That crazy smile Jungkook had earlier is now plastered across your face as you look at Yoongi. Despite the silent argument raging between you two, you can’t help but trust him. Whatever plan he’s concocting, you have no idea, but you’re sure he’ll fill you in when you’re back at the hostel, alone.
For now, though, you trust him, because what else can you do?
"Let’s head to Tae’s then."
“With the boards?” you ask dumbly, because there’s no way you’re carrying your board across town.
“No, just leave it here and see what happens.” Jungkook smiles, a grin that instantly vanishes when Hara punches his chest.
“What’s with you? Be kind.”
“Sorry, noona.”
Ooh. So he’s with an older woman. Who’d have thought? It shouldn’t get under your skin this much, but it’s been a crap day, hell, even some crap years, and there’s nothing you can do to undo every thrilling experience you wish you hadn’t gone through because of him.
“I’ll help,” Yoongi mutters, grabbing not just his snowboard but yours too. If there’s one thing you could do to repay him for this gesture, it’d be to name him the sole recipient in your will. Not that you’ve got much to leave behind, but the thought counts, right?
You hadn’t expected ‘Tae’s’ to be a cabin on the slopes nearby, nor did you think it’d be a luxurious home rather than a restaurant. As you approach the door, you’re impressed—there’s no sign of it being some kind of inn as Hara rings the bell.
It doesn’t take long for someone to open the door, wearing nothing but some slacks and an open bathrobe, showing off his tanned, chiselled chest.
“C!”
“Tae!”
The two men pull each other into a bear hug, patting each other’s backs like they’re trying to knock the wind out of each other. Male friendships—you’ll never get them, and honestly, you’re glad you were born a woman with every violent tap.
When they part and Tae gives Hara a few friendly kisses on the cheek, you notice she’s just as comfortable with him as she is with Jungkook. Odd.
Then Tae turns to greet you and Yoongi. His eyes widen when he spots Yoongi, and a huge, boxy smile spreads across his face, so wide it looks like his face might split.
“Hyung!”
“Taehyung,” Yoongi replies, sounding strangled as he gets crushed in the taller man’s arms.
You’re torn between being amused by the visible disgust on Yoongi’s face as he’s squashed against Taehyung’s bare chest or offended that Yoongi never mentioned he knows someone who lives here.
“Please let me go.”
“Sorry, hyung, it’s been ages! How are you?”
“Good.”
“Ah, I’m doing well too, hyung, I’ve missed you.”
“I can tell.”
It’s amusing how Jungkook and Hara are a bit thrown off by Yoongi’s coldness, but as far as you can tell, both you and Taehyung know it’s just Yoongi being his little ray of sunshine. He’s genuinely happy to see Taehyung again, even if he doesn’t show it openly.
“And who’s this Miss Universe you’ve brought along? Are you on your honeymoon?”
You don’t have a chance to answer when Taehyung turns to you, because frankly, his intense gaze and barely-dressed body in the cold are a bit overwhelming. It’s kind of bizarre that he’s standing there in the open, half-naked, while the rest of you are bundled up for the weather. You force yourself not to check if his nipples are hard and instead stretch out your hand politely.
“That’s ___.” Yoongi’s voice is heard.
But Taehyung ignores your outstretched hand and steps forward, pulling you into an embrace and kissing your cheek, completely throwing your composure out the window.
“Are you two dating?”
You glance at Yoongi over Taehyung’s shoulder, both of you equally unsure how to answer. Yes, you’re pretending, but outright lying is something neither of you is comfortable with.
“We’re—” you start to say, dragging it out, but thankfully, for reasons you can’t quite grasp, Jungkook grabs Taehyung’s shoulder, pulling him away from you and cutting in. For once, you’re grateful for Jungkook’s stupidity.
“Let’s get inside. You’ll catch a cold.”
“Yes, right! Come in, come in.”
Entering Taehyung’s place is nothing short of wild. The grand open space is filled with dubious art pieces, the kind where you’d rather not know the price tag.
It doesn’t take long to kick off your snowboard boots and gear, leaving you in your base layers. Despite the warmth inside, the sudden shift in layers makes you shiver slightly, especially since there’s nothing in your stomach to keep you warm.
Following Taehyung further inside, you let your eyes wander, and you can’t help but stop when you spot the massive dining table, looking more like something out of a castle. It’s not the Korean BBQ on it that catches your attention but rather the chairs lined up around it. They’re shiny black. Not so unusual, except for the fact that they’re shaped like the backside of a person—naked, at that.
Yoongi, absolutely unfazed, just grins and gives you a light shove on the lower back to keep you moving.
“I hope you’re hungry. I brought plenty, so don’t feel like you’ve got to be all posh and eat like a bird.”
Rounding the table, you sit down beside Yoongi, while Hara joins Taehyung on the other side of the table. Why Jungkook chose to sit next to you, when there are thousands of other free chairs, is a mystery you’re not eager to unravel. Especially when you shoot him an irritated look as he sits down, and he just smiles like it’s the most normal thing in the world—as if the two of you weren’t split ages ago.
Not wanting to dwell too long on that and because you’re intestines are eating you alive at this point, you turn to your host.
“Thanks for having us, Taehyung. I’m starving after being tortured all morning.”
Everyone laughs at your comment—except Jungkook, who tries to nudge your ribs with his elbow, but you dodge, still somehow familiar with his antics.
“I didn’t torture you.”
“You did,” Yoongi mutters, boldly reaching for the meat to throw on the table grill, which has been sizzling away since you sat down.
“C always tortures people, nothing new,” Hara remarks, and Jungkook looks more betrayed than the day you broke up with him.
“You’re mean, noona.”
“‘You’re mean, noona,’” you mock him, cringing at yourself even as the words come out. It disgusts you how petty you’re being, and you recoil from it inwardly. The others don’t seem to share your sentiment, laughing at Jungkook being moody.
“Oppa, how do you know Taehyung?”
“Please, just call me Tae.”
“You remember the paintings in my studio? He’s the artist.” Yoongi answers you casually, though you can sense how much it bothers him being called oppa.
“No way! That’s so cool!” You gush, letting your eyes drift to the artwork hung on the walls as Yoongi adds food to your plate, much to Jungkook’s annoyance, which he makes clear with a side-eye.
“Aww, it’s not much.”
“Shut up, you’re amazing,” Hara scolds Tae, and you can’t help but think that, under other circumstances, you’d probably want to be friends with her. She seems funny and genuinely nice, which just makes it suck more the longer you dwell on it.
“I’ve been looking for a painting to hang above my bed for ages, but I can never find the right one,” you mention, trying to steer the conversation as far away from Jungkook as possible.
“If something catches your eye, you’re free to have it, ___.”
“Really?!”
“Don’t spoil her; she doesn’t deserve it,” Yoongi jokes, and you know he’s kidding with the way his eyes flit to you.
“Wow,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, but before you can respond, Taehyung cuts in.
“Why? What did she do?”
Oh no. Yoongi wouldn’t… but of course, he does.
“Little Miss Adrenaline here has been dragging me to most of her adventures since I got back from the States.”
“That’s not true. It’s only been a few,” you try to save face, but it’s hopeless with Yoongi being both your closest ally and worst enemy.
“So bungee jumping, kite surfing, and now snowboarding isn’t ‘most’?”
“No! I’ve done plenty without you, stop lying.”
“But it was enough.”
“They’re bickering like an old married couple,” Hara laughs, clearly torn between which of you to watch.
“It’s not enough—you’ve left me on my own more times than I can count!”
“At least I was there when you whined beforehand and came back all fuzzy after.”
“How noble of you.”
“You don’t seem like the thrill-seeker type, no offence,” Taehyung adds when Yoongi doesn’t come back with a retort.
“Well, sometimes you’ve got to step out of your comfort zone.”
“Yeah! Look at you, trying snowboarding all bold and brave! Kind of like all the things you said you weren’t into when we were dating.”
The table falls into a deathly silence. Jungkook’s words ring out in the open space, echoing painfully in your heart and being. You’re stunned, utterly speechless at his outburst—it’s so unlike the Jungkook you knew. You don’t know what to say, and thankfully, Yoongi spares you the need.
“Want some more meat?”
“Yes, thank you.” Your voice is quiet, too low to betray the trembling in it, but you’re sure everyone feels the hurt radiating from you. You don’t want to feel like a kicked puppy, but somehow, because Jungkook still means so much to you, it stings deeply.
The conversation between the others resumes, though you and Jungkook remain silent for the rest of the meal, though you reckon he doesn’t regret anything.
You learn that Hara is the same age as Yoongi, and that Taehyung is a bit older than Jungkook—though only by two years.
Even though you haven’t recovered from Jungkook’s jab just yet, you start to enjoy the food, feeling more energised than you did this morning. Jungkook, however, is still steeped in his pettiness, especially when Yoongi helps you tear a perilla leaf off the stack.
It shouldn’t be a big deal, but the constant negative energy from Jungkook is draining you to the point where you’re not sure you’ll even make it back outside for the snowboarding session.
Luckily, neither Yoongi nor Jungkook seem to mind dragging the day out here at Taehyung’s place. Hours pass, and after Tae makes you his special smoothie for your ‘sure-to-be-sore muscles,’ and Hara spills all the gossip you never knew you needed, it’s clear the snowboarding course is off for today.
While Tae and Hara clean up the kitchen, and Yoongi and Jungkook, to your surprise, get along enough to talk shop about music, you take the opportunity to admire Tae’s paintings, hoping to find one that fits what you’ve been searching for.
There are several abstract pieces, bold in colours and strokes, but they feel too chaotic, making you feel restless. You’re about to give up when your eyes land on a smaller piece above the fireplace, drawing you in immediately.
It’s beautiful—abstract as well, but with muted colours. You think you can make out flowers, or perhaps there are angels. You’re not sure, but the painting exudes a calm, controlled aura that you can’t tear yourself away from. Reading the title on the little card in the corner, you see “All of My Good is Yours.” It’s poetic, and it speaks to you on a deeper level.
“You like it?” Taehyung asks, stepping up beside you, hands in the pockets of his bathrobe. With his tousled hair and laid-back vibe, he looks every bit the artist.
“Yes, it’s lovely.”
“You want it?”
“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you.”
“Of course you can. I’d be happy to gift it to you.”
You smile softly, thanking him as you admire the painting once more, already picturing it above your bed.
“What’s the title about?” you ask, curious about the story behind the piece.
“C? Come over here real quick.”
You’re more than confused when Tae calls for Jungkook, not understanding the connection between him and this painting. You just hope the confusion isn’t written as plainly on your face as it is on Jungkook’s when he approaches you both, stopping just short between you and Tae.
“S’up?”
“What’s the title about?”
Jungkook’s eyes flicker nervously between you, the painting, and Taehyung. “Why are you asking?”
“I gifted her your painting,” Taehyung beams, completely unaware he’s just dug your grave and pushed you in.
The laugh that escapes Jungkook is anything but friendly, his eyes filled with what looks to close to hatred as they land on you.
“Of course,” he breathes, then eventually explains with a disdainful smirk, “it’s about a lover who knows he can’t live without the other.”
You’re shocked to the core. Was this painting meant for Hara, and it ended up at Tae’s by mistake? Or why would Jungkook paint something so meaningful in the first place? You can’t handle it after learning the meaning and that he painted it, even though it’s exactly what you’d envisioned.
You take the hit anyway and say, as neutrally as possible, “I guess I shouldn’t take it then. It feels too personal.”
“Why?” Jungkook scoffs. “It was supposed to be yours anyway.”
Jungkook turns around at that, leaving you gaping after him. It’s not just his mood swings but also his remarks that are giving you whiplash at this point, and seeing the equally shocked expression on Taehyung’s face, you reckon Jungkook isn’t usually this bitter.
“Well…”
“Well…” Taehyung echoes.
“Still want it?”
Do you? You’re not sure anymore, but maybe there’s enough time to figure out if you can look past it all and take it home.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Sure, just let me know, and I’ll pack it up for you.”
“Thanks, Tae. You’re too kind.”
“No worries.” He smiles as he walks back with you to where the others are lounging on his massive couch.
You don’t even have the chance to sit before Yoongi stands up and nudges you back to your feet. “We’re leaving.”
“What? Why?”
“I want a nap.”
“What about the course?” Jungkook chimes in.
“Tomorrow, mate. Today’s done.”
You’re grateful Yoongi made the decision for you because you wouldn’t have been able to say no to either Jungkook’s company or the course itself, even though both aren’t exactly the healthy pastime. But looking outside, with the late afternoon light fading, going back to the slopes doesn’t seem as inviting as it did earlier.
“Aight,” Jungkook says, clapping his hands on his thighs as he stands up too, completely unfazed by your puzzled expression.
“Wait, we need to get our stuff from Hope’s,” you call after Yoongi, who’s already slipping into his boots.
“I’ll call him and let him know you’re coming tomorrow,” Taehyung offers.
You’re not sure if it’s rude of you to leave it like that, but you thank him anyway, hoping it won’t be a big deal.
Everyone’s getting dressed in seconds, and once again, you’re struggling with your boots while everyone else watches. You try not to let the embarrassment show, but there’s no stopping the blush. Even when you throw pleading glances at Yoongi, he doesn’t offer any help.
“Let me help.”
Jungkook being the one to help is something you never expected after how the day has gone, but you’re grateful nonetheless. He bends down, and like Hope earlier, he takes the boot and your calf in his hands.
It’s nostalgic, him touching you, helping you when you’re the damsel in distress, and it makes you think about how different things would’ve been if you’d stayed by his side. You’re not sure how to feel—sad or angry. But who should you be angry at? Him? For moving on? Or yourself? Or maybe at Yoongi, for not stepping up like a cousin should in moments like this?
“Thank you, Kook.” You hadn’t meant for the nickname to slip, hadn’t wanted to see Jungkook’s starry eyes locked onto yours as though you’ve broken his heart all over again. But what’s done is done, and there’s no taking it back now. Not even the nickname.
“Thanks for having us, Tae.” Yoongi gives him a quick dab, and after Jungkook does the same, and you say your goodbyes, you leave with Hara.
You try to stay close to Yoongi, avoiding the other two. You don’t even have the energy to scold him for not helping you earlier. And while you walk silently towards the hostel, Hara takes a different route to wherever she’s staying.
You don’t ask, and you definitely don’t watch as she kisses Jungkook’s cheek as if they won’t see each other later at Jin’s. It’s different from how she kissed Taehyung, and you’re pretty sure even if they’re not officially dating, they’re at least sleeping together. The thought stings though.
It doesn’t take long for you to reach Namjoon’s hostel, Jungkook, maybe for old time’s sake, opens the door for you to step in first, and when the door chime rings, you both glance up at the same time. There’s none of the old playfulness in his gaze, just a sadness you wish you’d never seen. You reckon it’s all just old feelings resurfacing—thoughts of the good times, ignoring all the things that went wrong.
“Hey! You’re back!” Namjoon calls from behind the reception desk, flipping through some books as the three of you stomp inside with your snow-covered boots. Just hours ago you thought his smile and laugh would be your weak spot, only to fade into insignificance after Jungkook’s presence. “How was it?”
“I’m still alive,” you and Yoongi mutter in unison, bringing a small smile to your lips. It’s not much, but it’s all you can muster right now.
“Told you C would take good care of you both.” Namjoon laughs while Jungkook shrugs off his jacket. He’s probably too warm already, like he always is.
“Your luggage is—”
“In our room, thanks, Namjoon.” You hope he catches the hint as you give him a crazed look, willing him to stop talking.
“Right, in your room.”
To his credit, Namjoon’s clearly confused, and he’s got every right to be, but he plays along, which is exactly what you need right now.
“I’m taking a nap. Bye.”
“Bye!” You wave at Namjoon, following Yoongi in a desperate bid to escape spending another minute with Jungkook. It feels rude, the way you’ve treated Namjoon, but you hope he’ll brush it off as exhaustion.
You just want a bath and then to crash, even though it’s still early evening. It doesn’t matter that Yoongi’s snoring will probably keep you up; as long as you don’t have to face Jungkook again today, that’s all that matters. Especially when you see him entering the room across from yours as you close the door to the honeymoon suite, knowing that he’ll be off to be with Hara any minute.
masterlist • 02
a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀
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Fake-Love | C.S.
summary: a boy was bothering you, so you and Coriolanus take it into your own hands.
pairing: university!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
includes: a very unstable, toxic relationship between the two, (arranged marriage), making out, comments toward the reader’s body, implied sex (it isn’t written), mentions of murder
a/n: soooo, as i write for the Silver Roses & Fallen Snow series, i decided to write a billion one-shot for our favorite blond to keep the era for him alive so i can finish my series 🫡. also, the uniforms are based of the gilmore girls’ one, since they are in university now and not academy.
The arranged marriage between the Snows and the Edevanes were always doomed to happen. You were born the same year as Coriolanus, and your families were already close with each other.
It was just, you and Coriolanus despised one another.
The feeling was 100% mutual. The reasoning for such a feud was due to the never ending fight for the brightest student in the Capitol. During your years in Academy, it was a tie in every class. Of course, your hatred for one another was more tame.
It only really changed when Coriolanus came back from serving the Districts as a peacekeeper. There was something about his demeanor that was much different, plus the way he was built could have made you weak in the knees.
He joined University a little after it had started for your class, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the best. You were currently the top of your class in University, but that changed when he joined under Dr. Gaul. His jabs to your reputation were much stronger than in Academy. He would make comments about you when walking down the hall behind you, making sure you understood that he would do whatever it took to be back on top.
So, when your parents dropped the bomb on you that you were to be engaged to Coriolanus as soon as possible, your blood boiled at the male. You could not believe he stooped that low to get back at you.
And about a few weeks after the initial announcement, you and Coriolanus officially got engaged, becoming the sudden talk of the Capitol.
“How did you keep your dating life such a huge secret?” A reporter stuck their microphone up to your face as you and Coriolanus exited a car together.
“Well, we were just so love struck with one another that we didn’t want others to know.” Coriolanus smiled, answering the question for you.
His arm was looped around yours as you were guided into the University, answering all the questions being asked of you both. The moment you stepped inside the school grounds you let go of the male, dusting off your uniform’s plaid skirt.
“What time do your classes end?” He muttered toward you, adjusting his own uniform.
“I have study hall all day, I’ll be done whenever you are.” You state as you head for the library, ignoring the icy stare your fiancé was giving you.
Since Coriolanus studied under Dr. Gaul, you knew you would have to stay a lot longer in the University’s library than usual, but you did not necessarily care. You had textbook assignments due, and it was an opportunity to get everything done.
That was the goal until a first year at the University started bothering you.
“I told you, I’m busy.” You stand from your seat, furrowing your brows at the young male. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a book for my psychology lessons.”
“Aw, don’t be lame.” He inched toward you, grabbing your wrist. “Why don’t we have our own fun instead? I’m sure you’re just as beautiful underneath your skirt.”
Your eyes harden at his words and mess with your engagement ring, “You‘ll have to excuse me, I have to be somewhere.”
Swiftly, you weave through the different shelves full of books. You swore under your breath when you hear the footsteps of the male behind you, sharply turning into a more secluded space. To your surprise, you found Coriolanus pulling books from the Hunger Games previous years.
“What are you doing in here?” You question, quickly moving around to his left. “I thought Dr. Gaul needed you today?”
“She wanted me to understand the history of the previous games to help with the programming and DNA of new animals.” He mumbled, looking through a thick book from the first Hunger Games. “What are you doing?”
“This guy was hitting on me.” You shrug, meeting Coriolanus’ darkened eyes. “What?”
“What guy?” He placed the books down on a cart, grabbing your chin.
You bite the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know his name, but he’s a first year here. Why do you care so much?”
“Because, gorgeous, you’re my fiancée. Any guy who even looks your way that isn’t me is dead.” He backed you into the shelf, hand still tight on your chin. “Did he saying anything or touch you?”
“Yes.” You whisper, gaze dropping to his lips before back up to his darkened blue eyes. “He grabbed my wrist and said that ‘I’m probably just as beautiful underneath my skirt’.”
Coriolanus took his other hand and firmly placed it on your hip, eyes wandering your face. “I’ll kill him.”
You turn your head to the side as you heard footsteps nearing before Coriolanus slammed his lips onto yours, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss without a care in the world.
“Mm, Coryo—“ You part, feeling your skirt hike up. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe.” He chuckles, shutting you up with a harder kiss, slipping his tongue through your parted mouth.
Coriolanus changes his hold on you, both hands now on your waist. You shift your hips, earning a quiet groan from the male. He retaliates by tracing a hand up to your throat, slightly squeezing it which earned a moan coming from you.
“Oh, so you’re just a whore.” The male scoffed from the front of the aisle, looking at the couple.
“Kill him?” You ask between kisses, tugging at his tie. Truly, you didn’t know he would take that request to heart as the male soon was deemed missing a day later. But for now, you were caught up in the heat.
Coriolanus grins, leaving one last kiss to your swollen lips. “He talks to my soon to be wife like that, it’ll be worse than a quick kill.”
read more about coriolanus snow here !!
©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
#lqveharrington#august’s works 🫧#coriolanus snow imagine#corio snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x y/n#coriolanus snow drabble#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus snow headcanon#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth#billy the kid#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid smut#coriolanus snow icons#coriolanus snow x lucy gray#coriolanus x lucy gray
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If you still take req for the event (if not ignore 🙏), could we pls get "I can't stop thinking about you." With Sebek
RARE SEBEK REQUEST 🙏🙏🙏
summary: "I can't stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: sebek additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
You are a problem.
Not because you're always getting yourself into trouble, not because of your poor temperament, not even because of that direbeast you carry around with you.
No. Sebek couldn't have cared less about all that.
If that's all it was, he could have tolerated you. What's one more bothersome human to him?
You would have been no different from the others.
If not for...
"Ah, young love," Lilia sighs. There's a dreamy current in the stream of his voice that makes Sebek stiffen.
"It is NOT... love,"
The elder fae chuckles. "Yes, I remember what that was like. Denial is the first stage, you know,"
"That's grief, father," Silver mutters, keeping his head down to avoid being dragged into the conversation.
"And what is grief if not love?"
"Again," Sebek is tense. "I am not interested in such things. I have already devoted my life and service to Malleus."
Silver and Lilia give each other a look.
"You know, Sebek, it's okay to have these kinds of thoughts. You're young! You have the rest of your life to guard Malleus. You should have some fun," Lilia says.
"Father is right. Maybe you'll loosen up a bit. You're too stressed,"
"YOU'RE NOT STRESSED ENOUGH!"
Lilia sighs that certain familiar sigh.
"I admire your focus, Sebek. If you really want to rid yourself of these feelings, the fastest way to do so is confessing. That way, you won't spend months toiling over them,"
Sebek's expression flips forthwith, and he beams. "Thank you for your wisdom!"
Silver raises an eyebrow, and Lilia dismisses him with a wave. It doesn't matter, anyway; Sebek takes his words to heart.
It's long past dark when he pounds on Ramshackle's door.
Nonetheless, you answer, bleary-eyed and sluggish, a thumb-sucking Grim tucked in your arms like an infant.
"Sebek?" you ask. "Is... everything alright? Are you okay? Did something happen to Malleus?"
Your words of concern are like an arrow through his heart. Worried for both him and his liege?
But also... worried for him...
He better get this over with fast.
"Malleus is well, do not worry about him. This concerns us,"
You stare in disbelief, as if you hadn't heard him right. "Us?"
"Did you mishear me? I am here because I cannot stop thinking about you!"
"...Oh!"
Oh?
"...Me?"
"Am I not speaking loud enough for you? I said, I CANNO-"
Your eyes widen. "No! No, I heard you! I'm just confused. What exactly does that mean?"
Sebek crosses his arms. Of course. Sigh...
"Lilia said I might overcome my feelings for you if I express them. So? What do you have to say for yourself?"
You blink. You're clearly still tired, he thinks, otherwise you would have understood, accepted his words, and been gone by now.
Right? Nothing more.
"Um... I don't know," you finally say. "Maybe I can come to training tomorrow?"
Hm. A strange response, but not an unwelcome one. Sebek grins.
"Finally taking up the offer? Of course. Anyone who spends time with Malleus should know the basics of combat,"
You hum, looking up at the sky behind him. "I wasn't really thinking about spending time with Malleus, but... okay. Tomorrow,"
"Tomorrow!"
And with that, he's gone, with a warm feeling in his chest that wasn't there before.
Lilia must have been right about confessing- he suddenly feels much better.
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Hiiii can I request popular yandere classmate x oblivious reader, oh and can it be smut pleassee?
Thanks for your ask! I started randomly naming all my yanderes even if they are all one shots, I don't know if I want to keep it though. We'll see. This one almost fucking tore me to shreds, I might need a break after this. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
-˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Yan!Popular Boy X Oblivious Reader (!!SMUT!!)
!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.
CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, yandere tendencies, reader is kind of silly here. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)
!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!
It was the first group project of the year! You and three other people were going to be randomly assigned together to work on a research project about something or another. The first two seemed like nice people but the third was Atticus, your friends have talked about him before. Wasn’t he popular or something? When the group met face to face you finally understood why, he was funny, charismatic and quite the looker. Your group decided to meet up in the library and you thanked your lucky stars that it seemed everyone was working well with each other. The other two in the group knew each other and were friends so when one of them had to leave later on in the day the other one did so as well leaving you and Atticus the only ones in the group still in the library.
Without the other two here, people were more inclined to come by to say hi to Atticus causing him to get distracted, you didn’t care much honestly, you had work to do after all. You overheard a couple of the people who came to talk to Atticus talk about some sort of group karaoke and that he should join them. “Sorry guys, I’m still with my group partner,” he apologized. You looked up, “it’s all good, this is just the first day after all.” Atticus looked at you incredulously. “See? Even your groupmate thinks it’s fine. Join us, Atticus, the girls are asking for you.” Internally he was annoyed, he already said no and the least his groupmate could do was back him up. Were you really that stupid? Eventually though, he was able to convince them to leave him alone. But when he turned expecting to see you still sitting there you were gone. Your stuff was still here so he assumed you went to get more material to research.
Scanning over the library he spots you eventually, struggling to reach for a book on a higher shelf. He sighs and starts walking over to assist but it turns into a run when he notices that you’re about to get toppled by said books. He covers you from getting hurt and curses at himself because having books fall on him fucking hurts. “What are you doing?” He says sternly, “if you can’t reach something ask for help.” He gasps, some of his true self leaked out, his image of a prince type is over. “Dang I’m sorry, you’re right. No sense in getting myself hurt, thanks! By the way, are you okay?” Suddenly, his heart raced, he didn’t know why. It might have been the way you looked under him currently, or it might have been the way you accept his rough tone with you, but either way he was going to explore it, explore you.
The project goes by smoothly, you still hang out with Atticus since the two of you exchanged numbers due to the project. You found it really weird though, each time you hung out with him and his friends, his friends were never able to make it. You hope you’re not scaring them away. Little did you know that if anyone is scaring people away it’s Atticus. The more time he spent with you was like heaven but also hell. He loved spending time and learning new things about you but, fuck, why were you not picking up any of the hints and flirty signs he was giving you?! Like today when it was just the two of you again, you two were at the movies and he tried to get an arm over your shoulder. “Oh my! Are you cold? Here, you can have my jacket.” And wrapped him up in your jacket! Sure, being able to smell your scent was nice but that’s not what he wanted! To rub salt on the wound too, after the movies his friends spotted him and invited you two to join them and you ACCEPTED! “Oh sorry, were you guys on a date?” One of his friends asked. “Oh no, we’re just chilling! We’d love to join you!” You responded. He almost choked up blood.
He went to his last resort and feigned sickness. Worry etched your face and you apologized as you helped carry him away. He convinced you to go to his place since it was nearby and was a bit hurt that you agreed so readily, you were going to be in a private space with him after all. Arriving at his place you helped him inside, all the way to his room. As you wished him better and got up to leave he tugged your arm. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Hm? What’s up, need something?” He hugs you, “I… I need you.” Not sure what he meant, but feeling like he needed this, you hugged him and both of you stayed like that for a while. That was, until his lower half decided to act up. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” You ask, almost too innocently. His face flushed, “help with this…?” “Of course, a boner is a natural part of your body, you know. Though I also heard that boners don’t happen just because someone is horny though…are you horny?” Atticus felt the blood rush to his head, all he could do was meekly nod.
You were sucking on his member, he could tell that you’ve done something like this before but maybe not too often due to the slight hesitation you exhibited. Regardless though he never imagined you would have been so willing to do this for him, should he have asked sooner? The sight of your mouth wrapped so prettily around his cock, he wasn’t the type that was quick to cum but just because it was you doing this act on him he felt close. He couldn’t have that, so he grabbed your shoulder and urged you on to his bed. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs. You did as he told, he gulped, he wanted this for how long now? It felt surreal that this was real. He couldn’t help but use his hands to explore your body, groping, touching, feeling your warmth. Your breathing quickened, you weren’t sure why he was taking so long, his exploration of your body started making you feel needy. You were close to telling him to hurry but let out a yelp when he started to suck and lick on your chest. He worked his way down to your lower area.
“What are you doing? Is all this necessary?” You ask him. “Please,” he begged, “I just need this, won’t you let me?” You whimpered, this is good and all but all this teasing is something you aren’t used to. He sucked and tongue prodded you for a while, you said that you would let him do what he wanted but you wanted to release soon and his tongue wasn’t doing that for you. “Hey, uh– hnn!!” Before you could say anything more he inserted a finger then two into you, rhythmically finger fucking you. Making sure to brush against your g spot each time. You were so close and Atticus knew it, so he stopped making you whine even louder. “Why did you stop?” “Grind on my dick,” he ordered. Sluggishly you got up and did as he was told. “Don’t even try to insert before I allow you to.” So you rubbed your sensitive area against him, slow at first but even you can grow impatient and you’ve been that for a while. Your wetness making a mess and with your bodies grinding against each other a squelching sound reverberated through the room along with the heavy panting and moaning. “Soon please?” You begged. Atticus needed you badly as well so he pushed you down on the bed again and aligned himself before pushing in causing you to scream out from the intrusion. He jackhammered you silly, “fuck, fuck, fuck, please. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he chanted like a mantra, “I need you so bad.” What followed was one of the hardest orgasms you ever had. He unsheathed from you and quickly went to your face marking your face all over with his seed.
After a couple of beats you asked, “hey, uh, can I have some napkins?” “S-sorry,” he scrambled to his drawer and took out a box of tissues. After you cleaned yourself up you asked, “I’d like to borrow your bathroom.” He told you that it was down the hall. You took your clothes and left his room, when you came back you thanked him. “Well that was fun! I’m going to head home now. I’ll see you later alright?” And left. He was shocked, how fucking clueless can you be?? He was going to make sure you understood that you were his now and he was going to move heaven and hell to make sure that happens, his darling.
#lovesick#yandere#yandere male#obsessive yandere#obsessive love#obsession#male yandere#male yandere x reader#gender neautral reader#gn reader#yandere writing#tw yandere#yandere blog#yandere boy#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#x y/n#y/n#yandere fanfiction#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#yandere x darling#yanderecore#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral reader#smut#yandere smut#clueless reader#oblivious reader
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SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS 2
Accuracy influenced by entire natal chart. This is NOT a person read. Looking at only aspect or placement will only give general information.
Lilith conjunct ASC:
Strong attraction. A forbidden kind of attraction. Could be due to many reasons. Possible examples:
One is significantly older, One is already in a relationship at the time of meeting, One could be a coworker or person in authority.
Chiron conjunct ASC:
Chiron person could be triggered by ASC person. Due to their lifestyle, attitude or approach to life.
For EX, let’s say this occurs in the sign of gemini. This sign is typically fast, curious and communicative. The chiron person may have grown up misunderstood their entire lives. They struggle to communicate and/or be understood effectively. The ASC gemini person likely has a fast thinking, fast moving way of life. They’re curious, bore easily and move onto the next topic fast. If the ASC gemini person isn’t willing to slow down, they risk hurting chiron. As chiron may not feel they mix well with ASC person’s lifestyle.
Chiron conjunct Venus:
An amazing placement especially if the man is venus. Venus’s natural way of expressing love can heal chiron.
I’ve seen this happen in the sign of Capricorn. In past relationships, chiron questioned whether they were enough. Their ex critiqued them and negatively compared them to other women.
In their marriage with a Venus Cap, they feel absolutely appreciated and admired.
Sun conjunct Venus:
The couple above also has this aspect. The woman is a Cap sun, she naturally has the traits this Venus Cap desires in a wife. The Venus Cap often talks highly about her. He tells her and others he can’t believe she even exists because she is his dream girl. He has said before he’s shocked someone so perfect would be with him. This aspect can be a good ego boost for the Venus person.
Venus conjunct Jupiter:
Really positive. When these two are together there is an abundance of love and joy. A good marriage/long term connection indicator. It’s hard to resist each other because of the good times/feelings you have when together.
The only downside, these two may overindulge too much when together. Leading to enabling behaviour. Possibly overspending and overdoing.
So while it can be good, 2 times I’ve seen this as Jupiter feeling drained in the end. They poured so much into Venus to keep them happy but Venus never felt satisfied/always desired more. The other 1 time I’ve known a couple with this aspect, it resulted in marriage. I believe this aspect may work better when Jupiter is the man & Venus is the woman.
Chiron conjunct Chiron:
This can manifest as bonding over similarities in your past struggles. However, if both are not in a matured stage of life, they may trigger each other. Bringing out the worst behaviours in each other.
Moon Square Moon:
This could create tension that leads to passion. Scorpio and fire sign venus may enjoy this aspect in their relationships. However, it may lead to emotional pain. Both could struggle to understand & properly care for the other.
Aries Moon Square Cancer Moon:
This is particularly difficult from what I’ve seen. The aries moon felt the cancer moon is “weak” and “overly sensitive”. The aries moon expresses passion in a more aggressive & teasing manner. The cancer moon, especially if they don’t have fire sign placements, could be hurt by this. They don’t understand and/or like the way aries moon’s expresses themselves.
COMPOSITE CHART OBSERVATIONS:
MC conjunct Uranus: To outsiders, the relationship feels unstable. The relationship may have on and off stages.
Mars in 12th. Generally, this isn’t a good placement. Indicates hidden resentment. One person likely does not fully understand the reason for the other’s anger/frustration.
- I’ve seen this manifest as a woman who many bad experiences with men in the past. This made her untrusting of her boyfriend. She feels past experiences made her take some frustrations out on her boyfriend. He did not fully understand her angry outbursts since he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Moon in 12th. A positive manifestation is knowing what the other needs subconsciously. You are in tune with each other’s feelings on a deeper level.
A negative manifestation is one person’s emotional needs are not being met. For this reason, they are unable to feel comfortable and properly loved.
2nd house ruler in 12th. In my opinion, this is the worst to have. This suggests one’s ability to feel secure is lost. Trust does not come easy. Communication needs to be strong to overcome this placement.
12th H Libra
12th can reveal what may potentially break the couple up or be a hidden problem in the relationship. By hidden I mean issues that are repressed or a sub conscious issue.
In the sign of Libra, inability to compromise, inability to peacefully resolve problems and inability to be make decisions together could be a problem.
Venus in 12th H
The couple may struggle with emotional intimacy. The physical is easy and enjoyable but emotionally opening up is not.
This can indicate a relationship where for some reason the couple hides their love when in front of people. And/Or they hide their true feelings from each other.
This is a tricky placement. While the two are interested in one another, creating a harmonious connection is not easy. Peace is disrupted. The couple can be chaotic.
Jupiter in 12th H
This is actually positive in my experience. The couple has luck on their side to solve any issues. However, luck may not be enough to save the connection if it turns sour. Yet, there will be many opportunities to resolve their problems. The two have a genuine desire to fight for one another. The two can understand each other on an intuitive level. You just get each other.
Example: This is actually my friend’s observation. She observed in the composite of her parents, Jupiter and Venus are in conjunction in 12th H. She told me her parents have had a lot of struggles but remain happily together. There is an abundance of love.
Her mom once told her, her and her dad were literally made for one another. No matter what problems arises only the two of them will be able to help one another. No one else will be able to understand them.
Some astrologers say Venus is the wife and Jupiter is the husband so when conjunct in composite, it can be that saving grace placement.
Sun in First House
The relationship can be the main focus of your life. This can be good or bad. It’s not healthy to cut off your own personal life to cater to one person. But if you can maintain your own identities, this should be a good placement.
I’ve noticed when this is in composite the couple can become known for the relationship. Especially, if Sun is the 10th H ruler and/or if the 10th H has many planets.
Mars in First House
There can be a lot of energy in this relationship. Arguments are bound to happen in any relationship but for this one in particular there will be many. If you are two people who are good at resolving issues and kind of enjoy a more chaotic dynamic, this can work out well.
However, if you don’t like your peace disrupted and fights make you uneasy, this is not a good indicator for a relationship.
You may become known for being “that couple”. Good or bad. Depending on whether people find out about your fights.
Mercury in First House
You don’t fear judgement when together. You can talk about anything and everything. This is a good indicator. A couple that never runs out of things to talk about. It isn’t necessarily a romantic or sexual indicator. So if not supported by other placements in the chart, this can be a relationship where the spark dies out quickly. Better off as friends kind of relationship.
Uranus & Neptune in 4th H
This relationship has a rocky foundation. You may love the idea of what can be more than what is happening. Fantasizing about how you’ll become a better couple when in reality it’s not going so well.
This can be an on and off connection. Whether you are together and committed to one another is not always clear.
However, the positive manifestation is you both value freedom. You have mutual respect for one another. You may have a non traditional start to the connection. The two may constantly move around. You may have to leave home throughout your lives. Not necessarily negative it could be possibly due to work.
#astrology observations#synastry observations#composite#composite chart#lilith conjunct ascendant#chiron conjunct ascendant#chiron conjunct venus#chiron conjunct chiron#sun conjunct venus#moon square moon#aries moon#cancer moon#gemini chiron#gemini ascendant#mc conjunct uranus#mars in 12th house#moon in 12th house#2nd ruler in 12th house#synastry#composite chart observations
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☾you've got a 9 to 5☽
in which sebastian and his ex-wife are still in love with each other
c/w: angst, mentions of an absent father (not intentionally), divorce
w/c: 1k words
based on this request
You hated that you still loved your ex-husband, your first love, your first everything - He was everything to you. You had taken the heartbreaking decision to file for divorce from Sebastian when he had signed for Aston Martin, you couldn't bare to spend more time alone than you already did due to the nature of his care, as much as it broke your heart to make the decision that you did, you knew that you had to; otherwise you would end up in a vicious cycle of loneliness, spending nights upon nights sleeping in what felt like an empty bed without your husband.
You sighed as you sat down on the couch, the days events finally catching up with you since you didn't have a minute to rest. Between work and your other commitments, you found yourself rarely having a moment to yourself these days - and it was on these days you found yourself missing Sebastian, missing the way that he would make all your worries disappear in an instant and missing the immense comfort he provided. As if adding salt to the wound, you turned the TV channel from some kids channel and you saw his face.
Up upon the podium stood your ex-husband, his trademark mile wide grin on his face as he held the first place trophy, raising it up above his head in celebration. Watching him broke your heart all over again, you remembered his red bull days when you were both young, head over heels in love with each other, barely married and dumb with love - He dedicated every podium win to you, claiming that you were his good luck charm wherever he was, even if you couldn't be with him. You felt your eyes welling up with tears as you watched him pop the bottle of champagne, of course the first race you managed to watch following your divorce, he would win, just your luck, right? Right.
For some reason, you felt like torturing yourself even more than you already were by even just watching the race, and decided that you would watch the post-race interviews, just because you felt like driving the knife already deep in your heart, in even further. You watched Sebastian talk with an interviewer about how the race had gone, how he felt about winning.
"And it was never any secret that you always dedicated your podiums to your wife, Y/N, is that still something you do?" You felt your heart stop at the question. You and Sebastian had been very quiet about your divorce and had managed to keep it under wraps, neither of you wanted something as heartbreaking and difficult as this out in the world, no, that was your business, no one else's. Sebastian gave a nervous chuckle and then a smile, he knew he had to be honest, and he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, hoping that if you were watching that you would see how sincere he was being.
"Yes of course, I love Y/N very much," He stopped there for now, feeling himself well up at the fact that he still held so much love for you, yet his career had driven you away from him. He understood though, your decision had torn you apart and you knew that he loved you, you just couldn't handle him being gone more than he was around. "I dedicate this, and every podium to her, I love her so much." Sebastian smiled, tears in his eyes as he finished up with the interviewer.
You couldn't hold it together any longer, feeling your strength dissolve, you burst into tears at his confession - He still loved you and probably always would. Over your crying, you missed the sound of the footsteps coming towards you, only looking up when you felt two small hands patting your hair.
"Mama?"
You looked up at your daughter, who was her fathers spitting image - curly blonde hair, the same stunning blue eyes, she was all Sebastian.
"You okay?" Her small voice was laced with concern as she saw your tear stained face, a small pout on her face as she feared what had upset her mama. You sniffled as you nodded, lifting her up for her to be sitting on your lap, leaning on your chest.
"I'm okay, baby, I promise," You assured her, smoothing her hair down. "You're not sleepy, huh? Too much sugar at your birthday party I think, princess," A small smile graced your face at her small giggle and the shake of her head. "Mhm, yeah, I think so."
"No, mama," She replied, giggling as you tickled her sides. You swore hearing your little girls laughter almost made you forget how much you missed her father. "Why wasn't papa at my party, mama?" She turned her big blue eyes up at you, a sad pout on her face at the absence of her beloved papa from her 5th birthday party. You swallowed the lump in your throat that appeared at the sudden emergence of her question. "Did he not want to be there?"
"No, Meine Liebe, your papa had a race this weekend, but I promise you when he gets back on Monday he'll here to pick you up and you get to spend the whole week with him, doesn't that sound fun?" You told her, watching as she perked up a little at the mention of getting to spend a whole week with her father. "He is really sorry that he couldn't be there today, honey, he can't help it." First you were making excuses for him to yourself, and now you were making them to your daughter, the tiny human that you had created together.
"I miss him, mama," She said, giving you a tired yawn as she rested her head on your shoulder, sleepiness finally catching up with the small girl. You sighed sadly.
"I know, I miss him too baby girl."
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 angst#sebastian vettel x reader fluff#sebastian vettel x reader angst#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel#Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader#dad!Sebastian Vettel#formula one x reader
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Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)
Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)
Part1 here!
summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....
warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss
6000 words
In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.
"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.
"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.
"I'm all ears."
Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.
"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."
"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.
You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"
"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.
You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.
The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.
For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.
It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.
"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.
"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.
"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.
You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."
"Mh, okay."
You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.
“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.
“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”
You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”
Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”
He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”
“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.
“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”
“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.
“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.
“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”
“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.
“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.
“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.
Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”
“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”
From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.
“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.
“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.
Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.
“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.
“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”
“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.
“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.
“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.
“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”
Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.
You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.
“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.
“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.
"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.
"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.
"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."
You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.
"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."
"Sure."
"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."
You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.
You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.
You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.
"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."
Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.
After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.
"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.
"Arthur-"
"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.
"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."
When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"
"Yer teasing me..."
"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.
"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.
"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.
"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"
Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.
"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.
"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.
"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."
"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.
"No", Arthur said firmly.
"Come on!", you quipped.
"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"
"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."
"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.
"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.
As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"
"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."
Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.
With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.
"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.
"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.
"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.
Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.
“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.
-
“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.
“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.
Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.
“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.
“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.
“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”
Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.
Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.
“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.
“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.
“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.
“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.
“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”
“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.
“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.
“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.
“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.
“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.
You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”
“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.
“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”
Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.
By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.
Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.
“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.
“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.
“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.
“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.
As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"
"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."
Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.
"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"
"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.
"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."
"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.
"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.
Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.
Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.
"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.
"What? No."
"Really?"
"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.
"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.
"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.
“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.
Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.
There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.
It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.
"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.
"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.
"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.
For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.
Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.
You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.
It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.
"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.
"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.
Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.
For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.
"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.
"Sure"
"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."
"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf
#arthur morgan x reader#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#arthur morgan fanfiction#rdr2#arthur morgan x female reader#red dead redemption community#rdr2 fanfiction#rdr#rdr fanfiction
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Importance
pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader
warnings: angst, fluff
summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...
author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!
Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.
Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.
Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.
Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.
Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.
Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.
You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.
The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.
You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.
But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.
As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.
Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.
Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.
The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.
Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.
He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.
He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.
The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.
Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.
When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.
When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.
You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.
Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.
You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.
On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.
Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.
More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.
He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.
Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.
You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.
You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.
It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.
You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.
He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.
"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.
"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.
"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.
"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.
"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"
"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."
"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"
"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.
"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.
"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.
"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.
These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.
"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.
"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.
"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."
You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.
Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.
It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.
You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.
After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.
Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.
He just followed you, deep in thoughts.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.
"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."
"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.
His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.
"I love you Chan" you whispered.
"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"
#stray kids x reader#skz imagines#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#bang chan x reader#bang chan#bang chan fluff#bang chan angst#bang chan imagines#stray kids#stray kids angst
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make or not the bracelet! | percy jackson
ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: none! ღ wc: 700 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7 - pt 8
“Not a chance” he said once more, tidying up the chaos that was his cabin. She was right on his heels, her lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. Each time he managed to tidy up a spot, she undid his efforts.
“Please, I'm begging you!” In a few short days, they would be at his house. Meeting your best friend’s mom might not sound like a big deal, but she was terrified. Her solution? Making bracelets as a gift for Sally! “She’s going to love them!”
As he folded a t-shirt again, he responded, “Sure, but what’s the point? We can just buy her some.” He understood the difference when a cushion slammed into his head. He returned the gesture with the folded t-shirt. “Why does it matter so much? She’s literally my mom, we don’t need to bring her anything.”
“But, you know…” her voice trembled, giving her away. Seeing how she raised her hand and nervously bit her nails, he understood everything.
“No way you are nervous” He approached her, gently holding her wrist in his hand. He searched her eyes for a response, but her gaze was fixed on the floor. “It’s just my mom.”
He understood that she was intimidated by meeting new people, but his mom? Oh, his mom would love her! Percy had been talking with Sally about her nonstop for weeks, and he couldn’t recall a single bad thing being mentioned; he couldn't remember having any bad thoughts about her at all.
He mentally jotted down a reminder to discuss this later, but for now, he wanted to calm her down. “I know how you’re feeling, but I promise she’ll adore you. And I’m not saying this just because she’s my mom; she’s the kindest woman in the world –she literally likes Annabeth, so you can believe me–. You’ll love her, and she’ll love you too, okay?”
She finally looked up to find his eyes. Her eyebrows were knitted together with concern, and he brushed his finger between them to erase the crease. She smiled at his gesture and nodded.
He pulled a silly face and vigorously shook his head. “Mhm, no, I need to hear you say it.”
“Okay, Perseus Jackson.” Grabbing a random book from the bed and using it as a fan, she replied to him. “Is that enough, or do I need to send you a formal notice, nice gentleman?”
“That would be perfect, thank you ma’am” He bowed in a way that made laughter impossible to resist. In silence, they sat down, sharing an unspoken agreement that the mess could wait until later.
The cabin fell silent, and memories from the previous day flooded his mind. Just as he was about to say something, she spoke up.
“But hold on, can we make the bracelet?”
“Nop.”
“How the hell do you tie this shit?” Percy was biting his tongue so intensely that she almost told him to stop. For someone who had refused for hours, he seemed overly invested in the task.
They were sitting on the beach, and everything felt very relaxing. Well, except for him. He was not relaxing at all.
“I thought you didn’t want to do this?” she remarked, glancing at her own bracelet. Suddenly, a hand hit her arm, nearly making her drop everything. “Hey!”
“I'm making it because you made me!” she shot him an offended look as he struggled to hide a smile. He really didn’t want to make one, but since his friend did, his fingers would have to suffer a little longer.
Without thinking, she launched herself at him. The force of their movement was too much; the delicate strings tore apart, sending beads and threads scattering across the sand.
“My bracelet!” Percy shouted as she stood up, slowly backing away. He jumped to his feet and dashed after her, who was already trying to escape. “I’m going to kill you!”
They didn’t care that other campers could hear their laughter, and they didn't mind that their clothes were now covered in sand. The nymphs in the water watched with delight as they fell to the ground, launching into a lively tickle fight that echoed with screams and joy.
Oh, the gossip in the ocean was only getting better and better.
hi! i don't know, i might delete it and re-write it because i like the idea but not the result. i want to sleep so bad but i have insomnia :( anyways! i have no idea how to put those pretty divider but i did my best! ALSOO tell me what you wanna seeee! some fights, more fluff, comfort, anything! AND I SWAR i'm gonna make them kiss soon :))) love u all <3333
#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#pjo x reader#fanfic#percy jackson x you#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson x y/n#perc
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American Mate (11 Part 2) - Just a Staff Member
Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader
Status: Ongoing series
Chapter number: 11 of unknown
Word count for Chapter: 11,511
Work count for Story: 77,023
Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine
A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.
Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, comfort, Alpha/Luna vibes, possessiveness, and self-doubt.
BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit
AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST
Back in the Vans, the remaining four split up.
Jimin and Jungkook hightailed it into one van while Namjoon declared that Taehyung would go with him and Yoongi would try to get you to allow him to join you.
After not seeing Yoongi on the side of the road as they left, Namjoon settled into his seat. His eyes return to the younger Alpha and appraise the hunch of his back, downcast eyes, flat ears, and tail wrapped around his waist in a self-soothing manner.
Good. He knows he messed up.
“What are you going to do?” Namjoon asks, his voice strong in his Prime Alpha role.
“Joon,” he starts but is cut off with a growl.
“Right now, I am not your Joonie-hyung. I am your Prime Alpha, leader of the Bangtan Pack, and you just…” Namjoon sighs, his eyes looking around, trying to figure out how to say everything.
“Prime Alpha Kim, I know. I messed up. I shouldn’t have growled at the driver so rudely.”
“And??”
“And I should not have been so possessive of our new mate, especially since she doesn’t know yet,” says Taehyung with a growl. “It’s just so hard. He was practically drooling over her like a piece of meat or candy.”
“That may be the case, but Y/n either didn’t notice or didn’t care. So, correcting him with her presence and in that manner was not okay. Taehyung-ah, do you realize how much you may have set us back with her because of this?”
“She wasn’t that upset, Prime Alpha. She is a woman. She’ll get over it. Besides, she has to forgive because of the mate bond. We just need to give her time, flowers, or gifts and what-not,” says the younger Alpha.
“The mate bond doesn’t work like that. She can reject you and, in turn, reject us. We don’t know how much a human can feel the bond because it is so rare.”
Namjoon sighs, “You know apologizing to a mate isn’t the same as to a friend. Flowers or gifts, really? Is that how you apologize to our mates?”
“Well, no, not really,” mumbles Taehyung with a shrug.
“Y/n already has obstacles that we have to help her overcome. Obstacles must be conquered to prove to her that we are different from anyone she has been with. We have to show her how genuine we are. She deserves, and the rest of our pack will demand, that she be shown the same love, devotion, and care that we already show each other.”
Leaning forward, Namjoon reaches out a hand to grasp Taehyung’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact, “She may need more reassurance than others because of her past. Today, you will stay in the van away from Y/n for the meeting. After which, you will be at her beck and call like the staff you have not shown respect for, and it will be up to Y/n as to when you will be forgiven. Understood?”
“Yes, Prime Alpha. I will seek forgiveness and serve her until she forgives me, even though it will not be easy for my Alpha or me.”
“Good. Pray that she is as forgiving with you as she was for Youngi-hung. If she doesn’t… I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
Lucky for Bangtan, they arrive before you do. Namjoon, Jimin, and Jungkook head to the office, where the new assistant greets them. Under Namjoon's orders, they leave Taehyung in the van.
After inquiring where Derek is, they are directed into the conference room. Inside the room, he is laying out copies of the updated contract.
At the pack's entrance, he greets them, “Oh, Mr. Kim, Mr. Park, and Mr. Jeon, Hello!”
Looking behind the three Alphas, Derek expects to see Y/n, but no one else enters. “Where is Y/n-ah? Is she coming with another packmate?”
“She is coming with Yoongi-hyung, and Manager Sejin is also coming. We came a bit early because we wanted to ask you a question,” Namjoon asks as he steps forward.
“Beta Derek, temporary Alpha of the Y/l/n Pack, I, Prime Alpha Namjoon of the Bangtan Pack, would like to request an audience with you and your pack Omega.”
The Prime Alpha makes the request with a bowed head, mirrored by the other Alphas present. The formality honors this as a traditional request, and Derek gapes like a fish out of water.
“You are requesting… Why not ask my Luna?” Asks the weary Beta, his scent hinting at worry and his body language on edge.
Lowering his head even further, Namjoon responds, “We wish to discuss your Luna and our future with her. I would rather not say something here because it would not be the right place. Please, will you meet with select members of the Bangtan Pack?”
“Very well. As temporary Alpha of the Y/l/n Pack, I accept your request. As the receiving pack, I will offer to meet at the Y/l/n Packhouse tomorrow at 11 a.m,”
“Most likely, because none of us are actual Alphas, our Luna will not be present, and our Omega’s mate may join us. Are the terms acceptable?” says Derek without wavering and holding himself high.
“They are. Thank you for accepting our request. Myself, Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, and Taehyung-ah will be present from Bangtan Pack,” responds Namjoon, standing up.
“Oh, that is a lot,” comments Derek. The packhouse is not very big and has no couch. The fox hybrid scent shows his stress at figuring out seating arrangements.
“Derek-ssi? As the visiting pack, they will be fine with sitting on the floor of your packhouse. Respectfully and traditionally, you and your pack representatives should take any other proper seating,” Jungkook says, his big bunny smile on display.
At the other Alphas' nodding, Derek visibly relaxes and smiles back, “I will make sure you are comfortable, Alphas; don’t worry. For today, please sit on the far side of the table where your nameplate is and we will start when everyone is here.”
The drive to the office was quiet. Yoogni kept to himself for the ride, his tail securely wrapped around his waist and his hands in his lap. If it weren’t for one of his ears firmly tilted in your direction, you would have thought that he had forgotten about you.
You are upset. You were thrown for a loop. You lost some of the footing that you thought was solid.
You wanted to be left alone.
Technically, this is what you are getting, but now that you are here, it’s not what you want.
Your fur leash is missing, and the soft stroking of Yoongi’s tail on your leg to calm and reassure you is absent. You miss the subtle touches you have gotten from the jaguar in the past few days. That is when you realize that it is not the action itself but who it was that was doing that made it mean so much more.
You are growing attached and don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you should express your concerns to Prime Alpha Namjoon and find another solution before signing the contract.
Your mind is riddled with thoughts of how caring Yoongi and Jungkook have been, how Jimin opened up, and your beautiful time with Seokjin. You feel connected with these four.
Well, maybe not so much Jimin, but at least he has started making progress toward not being a stranger to you.
Hoseok, on the other hand, started out really flirty but hasn’t looked to spend more time with you than when the pack is all there. Then again, his schedule has been the fullest out of everyone.
You were primarily worried about Namjoon. Without the Prime Alpha wanting you to be involved, you can bet all the money in your account that this contract would never happen no matter who else wanted you around, especially after the last Playmate.
Taehyung.
Until this morning, Taehyung was someone who you thought found a connection with. You met his Alpha briefly in the breakroom, and he seemed so caring. He was one of the pillars you planned to build over the next several weeks.
What if you now screwed up everything?
You had just scolded your Omega about how reactions can ruin everything, and then you turned around and did the same thing.
Glancing at Yoongi, you wonder if you ruined everything with him by speaking out against his mate. However, you are not willing to compromise your ethics and morals—period.
Heading up to the office, Yoongi follows you, dying to know what you are thinking. Your scent hasn’t wavered from the lemon. The only hope that Yoongi feels is from the vanilla mate scent, which is still present but light.
“Princess?” he calls, attempting to get your attention in the elevator.
At the sound of Yoogni’s voice and the use of his nickname for you, your shoulders relax just a tad. You hadn’t realized how much his silence and distance were affecting you.
Looking at him standing next to you, you are met with hard-set eyes and a tall, dominating posture. He says, “Taehyung has a good reason for what he did, but he was not entirely correct in his actions. Our Prime Alpha will correct that with him, so you don’t have to worry.”
Turning to face him, you open your mouth to respond, only to have Yoongi quickly take your hand and continue, “Please don’t cancel the contract.”
It isn’t a demand. You take in his words, posture, and scent of strong vanilla and ocean. He is shaken and worried, which shocks you because you figured he would side with his younger mate.
“Let us prove to you that we mean everything we have told you. Look to Seokjin, Jungkook, and me for examples of how things will be in the future.”
His eyes tell you he is being honest. They are hard-set, but at the same time, they are glossing over with unshed tears.
“Yoongi, my Kisa, I won’t cancel the contract, nor will I force anyone to partake in the contract.” Your words act like a breath of fresh air for the Alpha. “What happened today is just one person in the pack. What he did is not a reflection of all of you.”
Pulling you in for a hug that startles you at first, Yoongi kisses your temple, mumbling against your skin, “Thank you, Princess.”
When the elevator doors open, you pull out of his hold and take his hand. You weren’t sure how you would feel around Taehyung, but you didn’t want anyone else to be uncomfortable.
“Yoongi, what do you mean I don’t have to worry about Taehyung?”
“Namjoon-ah will take care of it and let you know what it is that was done. That’s how Bangtan works. When there is a disagreement or incident like the one this morning, it gets deferred to Prime Alpha.”
“Oh, I wonder what my punishment will be,” you muse.
Pulling you to a stop, Yoongi asks, “Why would you get punished?”
“I spoke out against an Alpha. An Alpha that is a bonded mate. Then left without being granted permission to leave by the Prime Alpha,” you say, looking at the office doors.
“Princess,” Yoongi says as he lifts a finger to your chin, directing you to look at him again, “You stood up for someone, stood your ground against a pack member, and demanded space. Nothing you did was wrong. I mean, sure, it would have been better to talk it out, but you aren’t used to us yet.”
Leaning up, Yoongi kisses you on the forehead, “No one is going to punish you. In fact, I see some groveling happening really soon.”
“Will that happen before or after the Prime Alpha?” You feel a blush crawling up your face, attempting to lighten the mood.
Yoongi knows you are avoiding the situation in your own unique way. He chuckles at your joke but is still worried because your sweet pea hasn't returned yet, and only the lemon scent is present.
Any other nearby hybrids will notice your scent and think something is wrong. To them, this could mean either that the hybrid with you is unsolicited or that you are being forced into something. Neither one of these options is good for either of you.
He opens the office door, his tail curling around your waist, and you head in. He hopes you will naturally fall into petting his tail or your scent will change before gaining unwanted attention.
The temporary front desk assistant greets you and directs the two of you to the correct office. Yoongi opens the conference door to reveal Namjoon, Jimin, Jungkook, and Derek sitting around the conference room.
While the Alphas stand at your arrival, Derek jumps up and tilts his head in submission, pulling a shocked “oh” from you. As you walk closer to your family pack member, he drops to a knee and whimpers slightly.
“Derek? What’s wrong?” you ask, looking to the room full of Alphas for help. Each of them seems also to be avoiding your gaze.
“Luna, what has caused you to be so upset?” asks Derek, his eyes still cast down and his neck bared to you.
“Did you say something?” You question the Bangtan pack members who were present before you arrived.
“No, Luna Y/n, we have said nothing, but your scent says plenty. Yoongi-hyung, did you not comfort her and explain?” questions Namjoon.
“I explained...” Yoongi starts, but you cut him off.
“He did, Prime Alpha. I just didn’t understand how affected I am. He needs to do nothing more as he did as requested. I will see to my pack.”
Focusing back on your Beta, you lean down and scent him lightly with your wrist to show that you are not upset with him. “Beta, I am not upset at you. There was a… misunderstanding this morning. I am sorry if my scent is still soured.”
Finally, Derek looks at you, his gaze flitting over all of you to make sure you are not physically hurt. You smile at him and hold your hand, helping him stand.
“Luna, are you sure you are okay? What happened?” asks Derek.
“Don’t worry about it,” you glance around. “It is something that must be dealt with between the parties involved. You know how I do not like bringing in more people than required.”
“Luna Y/n, Taehyung-ah will not be present for the meeting if you wish. He is waiting down in the van. He will remain distant from you until you are willing to have him in your presence, and then he will work for your forgiveness,” says Namjoon with an air of authority.
“Oh. I see.” You then blatantly say to Namjoon while you pick at invisible lint on your pants and sleeve, “Strange that Young Mr. Kim has been made to keep distance when others who are also looking for forgiveness are not, Prime Alpha.”
Looking at your Beta, you ask, “I am correct in saying that if he wishes to receive services he must be present at PMS to sign the contract?”
“He does, Luna, but we can have him come do it later. Just like Mr. Jung and the eldest Mr. Kim,” answers Derek as he moves to his seat again.
“I see.” You move to the seat with your name on it and notice that Yoongi is slated to sit next to you, with the Director on your other side.
“He is welcome to be present for the meeting. It does affect him and his bonded mates. I will not stand in his way, Prime Alpha.” You state with clarity and no room for discussion.
“It is still his decision to join this contract of his own free will and no one else’s. Am I mistaken, Prime Alpha?” you say as your Luna side continues showing strength.
“You are correct. I will go get him then, Luna Y/n,” Namjoon says, making his way to the door as you and the rest take your respectable seats.
It isn’t long before Director Johnson and Manager Sejin enter the conference room and take their seats. Everyone exchanges casual greetings and pleasantries.
“Director Johnson, it is good to see you again. I hope this hasn’t caused you too much trouble,” you say as he sits beside you.
“Oh no, it has been interesting but nothing troubling. How are you handling all of this? It must not be easy since you have no Playmate training.”
As the director speaks, you feel Yoongi’s tail slowly wrap around you again, as if he is trying not to make it noticeable. Remembering someone mentioned that the Bangtan pack does not have a good relationship with the director, you maintain a smile in hopes that no other issues will come up.
“Not to worry. As you know, I have a family pack with Derek as my Beta. So I am not completely unaware of pack dynamics, and I have read more than my fair share of contracts and witnessed playmate interactions in the past.”
Before he could respond, the door to the conference room opened again. Namjoon and Taehyung enter, with Namjoon taking his place back on the other side of the table. You pay no mind to what Taehyung is doing to the best of your ability.
“Just as in any honest pack, there will be differences of opinions, challenges to positions, and discussions to occur. This will happen as we get to know… each… ooothherr.”
Your words stop as you see the odd look on Derek’s face as he pointedly looks at you, then behind you and back several times. You also note that Yoongi has stiffened, the three other Alphas in your eye line are looking behind you, and the director has also turned to look.
Following their lead, you turn in your seat to find Taehyung standing behind you against the wall, looking directly at you, “May I help you, Mr. Kim?”
“Y/n,” several growls are heard.
“She is Luna Y/n right now, Taehyung-ah. You will take note of her scent and address her as such,” Namjoon says.
“Yes, Prime Alpha,” he answers without his eyes drifting from you. “Luna Y/n, I would like to apologize for my actions this morning. You are your own person. It was wrong of me to assume that you were being mistreated and disrespected by Mr. Green.”
Your eyes widen at his words. Glancing at the director, you notice he frowns deeply at hearing that something has already happened. You can also see that Derek has a look of irritation.
Your attention is pulled back to Taehyung as he kneels on the floor. You stand immediately, shocked to have an Alpha do that, but you hear someone clearing your throat before you can process anything.
“Luna Y/n, from this moment until you have forgiven him, Taehyung will be your personal attendant. It is an older tradition but one that Bangtan Pack has utilized for a long time,” informs the Prime Alpha.
“Luna Y/n,” Yoogni gathers your attention. “Remember what I said in the elevator? This is it. Don’t think that because you are new to the pack or where your position is within the pack means that you have to forgive him right away. I think Hobi had him in service for almost a month.”
“27 days. I was in service to him for 27 days, and I will be in service to you, Luna Y/n, for as long as you see fit,” he tells you as he sits on the floor behind your chair.
“But why are you on the floor?” His eyes widened momentarily, and he looked to his packmates for help.
“Luna,” calls Derek, “If they are following the Acts of Forgiveness, then the one looking for forgiveness must serve the one to grant it at all times. They must never be found higher than or in front of the grantor. Plus, they must be in close proximity unless the grantor orders otherwise.”
“But he is taller than me! How is that gonna work? He can’t sit on the floor. What will Army think if they get wind of this?” You, not so gracefully, plop back into your seat, “I’m a dead man.”
“Luna Y/n, while I will not go against the traditions of the Acts while within the presence of our Bangtan pack if it makes you more comfortable, might I suggest something?” Taehyung offers, seemingly unaffected while sitting on the floor like it’s normal.
Glancing at Yoongi for some kind of guidance, as you have never dealt with any of these Acts before, he subtly nods his head once. Clearly, this is not something that is not out of sorts for the Bangtan Pack. With that knowledge, you look back to Taehyung and wave your hand for him to continue.
“Why don’t I always walk behind you and sit on a designated side when someone outside the pack can see us? I don’t care about what Army thinks. I care about what you think,” offers the tiger hybrid, still sitting on the floor.
“You don’t… Mr. Kim, you must think of Army. They are the key to your success. I am, by far, not someone to risk a scandal over,” you huff out. Another sharp spike in your lemon-ed scent supports the determination of your words.
“Now, your ideas will work. You still cannot sit on the floor, though. That is not right. You are not a slave. What about a pillow?” you ask, looking between Namjoon and Derek.
But it's again, Taehyung answers, “If you order for me to use a pillow, I will be grateful for your kindness.”
Taking a deep breath, the scent of your beta with those of Bangtan finds a place in your heart. One thing you loved picking up from Evie’s family when you were young was the ability to identify scents. Scents became your comfort afterward.
“Fine. I will follow the Acts of Forgiveness. You can walk behind me, sit to my left when we are in public, and use a pillow when sitting on the floor. Is that agreeable, Mr. Kim?”
Yoongi gives a pleased rumble beside you, and Taehyung nods, “As you wish, Luna.”
You had thought that Taehyung would have taken a seat with the pack or somewhere to your left, but he refused because the Director was sitting there. He also refused a pillow “because he caused enough of a delay.”
Deciding that this was a battle you had no desire to pursue, you let it slide. You also make a mental note to place an over-stuffed or large pillow in each room you might end up in with him to ensure he is comfortable.
At the same time, you still feel awkward about the Acts of Forgiveness and debate forgiving him when you leave the office. However, your thoughts get pulled to the paperwork in front of you as the meeting officially starts.
Halfway through the contract reading, Seokjin and Hoseok arrive. Both take note of Taehyung sitting on the floor and your still acidic, lemony scent but say nothing. Only a smirk on Hoseok’s face gives you a clue that he at least understands what is going on.
“Jin! Hoseok! You both made it,” you smile, standing up and hugging the eldest Alpha.
“Hello, my dear. Of course, we made it. This is an important meeting,” Seokjin says while he returns your hug.
“I made sure that my dance practice ended on time. My instructor kept trying to make me take breaks, but I wasn’t having it. They understood once I explained it,” says Hoseok as he ruffles your hair on his way to his seat.
“Thank you for joining us. Please take a seat. We are about halfway through. Do you want a moment to catch up?” asks Director Johnson.
At the sound of his voice, Seokjin stiffens, and his face drops. “No, Director. Our Prime Alpha takes care of the pack, including Miss Y/n, as a proper leader should, and neither of us has any reason to question him.”
“Jin,” you whisper harshly, “Be nice. Please, he is still my boss.”
Looking down at you, Seokjin takes a moment to admire you. His Apha wants to argue that Bangtan has a claim on you that ‘your boss’ will never have.
“I am sorry, my dear.” Seokjin glances at the director, “Thank you for your offer, but we can continue from wherever you are.”
As the eldest Alpha sits next to Namjoon, the meeting moves forward. The preliminary one you agreed to back at their packhouse seemed the same as the contract in front of you once you got past the results from Dr. Blackwell and Ryan’s report.
That is until you get to the last few clauses:
The Bangtan Pack will not seek additional Playmates for companion or partner contracts as Y/n is the sole Playmate of the Bangtan Pack.
There will be no sexual or intimate contact outside of the contracted individuals.
Y/n will have the option to be integrated into the Bangtan Pack by agreement of all members, at which time the Playmate Partner Contract will be null and void.
“Okay, wait. Why does this last clause even need to be included? What do you mean ‘no sexual or intimate contact’... What does that mean to Alpha hybrids?” you ask as you read and re-read the last clause.
“Integrated? Why is there an option to be integrated into your pack, Prime Alpha?” you ask with your eyes wide.
You look at Namjoon, waiting for his explanation. When he doesn’t answer immediately, you look to Derek, “You wrote the contract. What does this mean? Are you kicking me out of our family pack at the end of this? Are you ashamed of me?”
“What?!? No, Luna, that isn’t happening. That will NEVER happen. Family packs are for life. These were added per last night's eldest Mr. Kim’s email request,” Derek quickly responded, looking to Seokjin to explain.
“Luna Y/n, I want to be very clear with you,” starts Seokjin. “You are someone that none of us were expecting. You intrigue us all. Alpha Yoon has never… NEVER… protected someone outside of Bangan.”
You glance over at Yoongi, the tips of his ears fluttering, his cheeks hinting rose, and his tail wrapping around your braced wrist.
“Alpha Chim, not Jimin but his Alpha, hasn’t initiated scenting of anyone, mate or not, since Seul-ki left,” your eyes snap to Jimin’s as he nods. “Not only did Jimin-ah tell you about what happened, but Alpha Chim scented you on his own.”
“You have also met Alpha Tae and Alpha Kook. Luna Y/n, you have met over half of our Alphas, and as a mate-bonded high-profile pack, that shouldn’t happen unless there is something special about you.”
“But, I am just me,” you utter softly as a sweet pea, the mate vanilla, and a soft peach scent slowly replaces the lemon tangy.
“Sweets, you are just you, and what you are is amazing. Never forget that,” piped Jungkook.
“Luna Y/n,” Namjoon summons your attention. “I know you ever expected us, and Seokjin-hyung is correct– we never expected you.”
Looking slowly at each of his mates, the Prime Alpha settles back on you, “The additional clause is included because we all feel this longing to be close to you. One of the ways we, as hybrids, get close to someone is through physical means, like how Yoongi-hyung is holding you by his tail right now or Hoseok-hyung by scented your hair when he came in.”
“However, the average human considers most of what we do to be close to one another as intimate. As a pack, we want not to limit our interactions with you. We just want to see where we end up naturally with you, Luna.”
“Princess, remember that no matter what we want if you do not want something… please tell us. This go for anything from holding hands, hugs, to cuddling and scenting. If any of the pack members do not listen, I will declare a Challenge to them, and I expect them to do the same with me,” Yoongi adds quickly to ensure clarity and security.
A few comments of agreement are heard, along with Derek muttering under his breath that he “will Challenge if they don’t,” which also causes snickers around the table.
“Ah… well… okay…. I think that is understandable. From what I have experienced so far with getting closer to some of you, the scenting has been very different from what happens with Y/l/n Pack. So, it makes sense that you have that included. But what about the integration part?”
“As you saw with Taehyung-ah’s display this morning, Alphas protect what we consider ours,” Jimin says with a sight smirk. “He isn’t the only one wanting to make it known to others that you are not theirs.”
Next to Jimin, Jungkook’s ears drop as he hides behind them. The action causes you to giggle, and the vanilla mate scent from you grows, drawing the attention of the Bangtan Pack to you.
Yoongi tries to hide his amusement at the awe he finds on the faces of his bonded mates at the change in your scent. Their reaction answers his question about the bond becoming stronger.
Your attention, however, has gone to the contract before you, and the reality of your situation is starting to settle in.
You are becoming a Playmate of the Bangtan Pack, and they don’t want to limit interactions. Are they changing yet another part of the contract because of you, or is it for you?
Does that mean you are not alone in your reactions to their advances? You can call those advances now, can’t you? All you know is nothing will be the same for the next seven weeks.
While your mind is imagining a trillion things that could go wrong, your heart and soul cannot wait for the adventure ahead.
The others around the table seem to agree with everything said so far. Even Director Johnson and Derek have huge smiles and a knowing glint in their eyes.
“Sugar, your scent is turning again. What are you thinking about?” Worries the youngest Alpha, reaching out towards you but stops as he is unsure if it will help.
You attempt to give him a reassuring smile before you turn to sit sideways in your seat. Sitting like this allows you to see Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung.
The three wild cards. You need to talk to them. You want to make sure they want this and not just consent because the majority rules. You need to talk to them without Namjoon or Yoongi around.
“Prime Alpha, Sir, I wish to discuss a few questions with some of your mates. Do I have your permission to speak with them privately?”
You can feel the room tense up. Looking at Namjoon, you see his face is pensive, but he nods, “You may, Luna Y/n. Do you wish for us to relocate, or do you have another room that you would like to use?”
“Miss Y/n, why don’t we step out? I could use a coffee, and I am sure a few of us may need a break,” Director Johnson offers. He knows the other conference room wouldn’t grant you privacy because of the observation room.
“Thank you, Director. I think that would be a good idea. If Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung would be so kind as to remain, we could discuss a few things.” You say, but your eyes never leave Namjoon's. Watching the expression change to one of understanding.
“As you wish, Luna,” responds Taehyung, but your heart tugs at the thought he is only willing to stay because he is in trouble with the Prime Apha because of this morning.
“Hoseok-hyung and Jimin-ah, are you comfortable staying?” asks Derek. The questioned Alphas nod and smile, prompting the PMS representation to stand.
“Wonderful. If the rest come with me, I can show you where the cafe and restrooms are. Also, answer any questions you may have,” informs the Director, giving the remaining Bangtan packmates no room to wiggle their way into staying.
At this point, you are actively avoiding Yoongi’s staring as it is boring into your head. You know that if you were to look at him, you would give in and ask him to stay.
Doing this, however, allows you to see the concerned look shared between Jungkook and Hoseok and the quiet conversation between Seokjin, Namjoon, and Derek. Slowly, you feel the drag of Yoongi’s tail uncurling from you as he and the others follow the director out.
For all Seokjin knew, the Director of PMS could be speaking Swahili. His mind, heart, and soul were left in the conference room with his four remaining mates.
After what feels like the longest tour ever, the Director leaves with Derik with the mention to let the front desk know when everyone is ready to resume the meeting.
Coming out of his fog, Jin realizes they have returned to the break room where it all started. Looking around, he takes in his pack mates.
Jungkook has attached himself to Yoongi, looking like he lost his best friend. Yoongi attempts to comfort the young Alpha, but his ears are pinned on the break room door, and he is undoubtedly listening for any indication that Y/n and the others are ready to continue.
Namjoon also watches them, his tail hanging low and his ears flicking between laying flat and listening for something. Jin is thankful that the Prime Alpha could hold the conversation during the tour, allowing the rest to be in their own world.
Jungkook is the first to break the silence. With hushed tones, he asks, “Do you… why do you… she isn’t leaving, right, Joon-hyung?”
Looking at the door, Namjoon sighs. “I don’t think she is. I think she just has questions. It’s best not to jump to conclusions, Kookie.”
“Y/n knows our scents,” Jin states to the room. His eyes bounced between them all.
“She can do what?” Namjoon steps closer to Jin. “How can she do that?”
“I don’t know, Joon. While on our date, she told me that she knows Yoongi’s, Kook’s, mine, and even Jimin’s scents. Guys, she was right in them all.”
“She knows my scent. My new mate knows my scent. She has to be bonding with us then, right?” asks a hopeful Jungkook.
“I mentioned earlier that her vanilla mate scent was getting stronger around me. That is an indication that the bond is becoming solidified. She must be growing the bonds with the mates that have shown their Alphas or scented her,” offers Yoongi.
“I figured she is bonding with Jimin and Taehyung, so why the private meeting with them? I would think she would want to meet with those she cannot recognize,” contemplates Seokjin as he moves to sit next to his mates on the small couch.
“I don’t know, hyung. I just hope that whatever answers they give her are the answers she needs to hear.” With Namjoon’s last words, the room falls silent, and each contemplates what is happening in the conference room.
Once the conference room door closes, you hold your breath. So many questions flood your brain.
What about asking the main question instead of beating around the bush? Do you really want to know what feral animal lives within the bush? What about leaving the bush alone?
“If you are waiting for the pack to be far enough away to not listen in to the conversation, they are. I can’t hear anything,” Taehyung offers.
“I wasn’t, but that is good to know. Thank you. Can you please take a seat? I want to talk to Alpha Taehyung and not “being punished by the Prime Alpha” Taehyung,” you ask, gesturing to the seats next to his packmates.
Taehyung looks at you with confusion and then looks past you to Hoseok, who subtly shakes his head. Standing up, Taehyung takes the seat to your left, “Luna, what is it you are wanting to talk about?”
Turning to sit straight in your chair, you clasp your hands together on the table and take a deep breath.
This is it.
“I know I came outta nowhere. I know that you were happy and untroubled before I crashed into your lives and the lives of your mates. I have absolutely no desire to ruin the bond that you have with Yoongi, Jungkook, and Seokjin.”
“Y/n, you aren’t…” Hoseok starts to say, but you cut him off. “Let me finish. Please?”
After a moment of silence, you continue, “I understand the obligation that has been measured between Yoongi and me, but it doesn’t have to involve everyone else. Seokjin and Jungkook have also grown an attachment to me. For the life of me, I have also grown attached to them.”
Feeling the tightness in your chest and the slight tremble of your hands, you take a deep breath, hoping to remain calm and not cry. You can hear one of the hybrids in the room shifting in their seat, probably impatient with you for keeping you from getting this over with.
“I know your Prime Alpha signs onto any contract that comes before the pack but the three of you have a choice.” A sharp intake of breath. A scrap of a chair. “I will support and stand against Namjoon if any of you wants to back out of the contract presented to us today.”
Silence followed your words, but you didn’t dare look at them.
Your words strike Jimin with a strength beyond description right now. You would support them even if it meant going against a Prime Alpha. Most Alphas refuse to challenge a Prime Alpha, much less a human, but here you are. Do you understand how selfless your actions are?
Taehyung curses himself with every language he knows and maybe even some he makes up. Before this morning’s fiasco, he would have bet money that you would allow him to have a scenting session with him.
If you only knew who you are, it would explain why the choice you gave them is not an option, even if it has a meaningful impact. It would also help you see why he had to act as he did this morning, even if it was over the top.
The only calm one in the room is Hoseok. Unlike the younger mates in the room, he remembers the words that your Beta has said before. He also has been watching you around his mates, observing how the mate bonds between Yoongi, Jungkook, and you are practically glowing.
One thing Hoseok can tell is how touch-starved you are; your actions also show that you are trained to deny it. This presents a problem for later since it seems that your mate bond only grows through that physical touch. Right now, the three of them must find a way to convince you that they want to be there.
“Y/n, I would like to address you as just Y/n, not Luna Y/n or Miss Y/l/n. May I do that?” Hoseok asks with a gentle tone.
Finally, looking away from your hands, you meet the marten hybrid gaze, “Of course, Hoseok.”
“First, I would like to offer my apologies for not being available to get to know you better. Tomorrow is one of my free days, and I would enjoy nothing more than spending time with you and my other available mates.”
Leaning forward, he continues, “Second, I want to apologize for not following through on my promise to keep you laughing. I have every intention of signing the contract and following through.”
“Hyung is right,” Jimin joins in. “I promised to be your friend, but a friend is just the start. Any strong relationship that lasts has a friendship deeply entwined within. My Alpha has been after me to close the distance between us, and I also want to. I have never even thought of not signing the contract, nor will I ever.”
Your breathing turns normal as they speak, and your scent blends in your sweet pea. Two of the Alphas want to keep going. You can tell by their honest expressions, the sincerity of their words, and the openness of their posture that they are following their own path and not being forced like you are worried.
That leaves one more. Both of the Alphas across from you have turned their attention to the tiger sitting next to you with fondness in their eyes.
“Y/n, can you look at me please?” Taehyung asks with uncertainty. Your eyes are still on Hoseok when he glances back at you and nods toward the awaiting Alpha.
Closing your eyes and tilting your face downward, you turn in your seat to angle yourself to face him. Taking the chance, you open your eyes and look at the man before you.
The intensity of his stare is not what you were expecting. A swirl of emotions is bleeding from his eyes: dominance, worry, anger, hope, and panic. Meanwhile, you can almost feel the tension he is holding in his posture.
His back isn’t straight because he is trying to look at you from the same level, his tail is snapping behind him, and his ears are pinned so far down that you can’t see them anymore.
Simultaneously, you want to run from the predator before you and lose yourself in him. All you end up doing is saying his name in a way that shows just how breathless he has made you, “Taehyung.”
“No.”
That word breaks you out of the enthrallment you swore the tiger hybrid turned vampire had you under. Shaking your head in confusion, you open your mouth to question everything when he continues.
“No, you didn’t crash into our lives. We wanted you before you got injured. Jin-hyung, Jimin-ah, and Jungkook-ah had all asked about making you ours before we even met anyone else.”
“No, you cannot and would not ruin any bond that any of the Bangtan bonded mates have. In fact, despite what you may think, all of us have grown attached to you.”
Taehyung takes your hands in. His eyes soften into a fondness that you haven’t seen before. “There is no way that contract will be missing any of our signatures. Everyone wants you in our lives.”
You are still trying to process it all and are at a loss for words.
Taehyung just gave you a surplus of information that you never thought possible. Your heart fluttered and skipped beats. It’s slightly overwhelming but comforting.
A gentle thumb on your cheek pulls you out of your gaze at Taehyung, and you see Hoseok kneeling next to your chair, wiping the tears you didn’t know had fallen.
“Doll, Taehyung is correct in everything he said. We all want to be around you for at least the next eight weeks. Each of us wants to grow this connection with you to see where it goes,” Hoseok says, now cradling your face in his palm.
“Y/n,” Jimin calls your attention as he stands behind the kneeling Alpha. “None of us are signing the contract or inviting you into our lives because of an accident.”
“No one is being forced, either.” Jimin clarifies before you can express any doubt. “Maybe one day you should ask Manager Sejin and Namjoon about the argument they had with Bang PD-nim while we were on the flight after he heard your voice over the phone.”
“You guys have no idea… No, I have no idea what to say. You three have said plenty,” you chuckle at your misspoken words.
Pulling your hands out of Taehyung’s, you lay one over Hoseok’s and snuggle into the warmth. After collecting yourself, you say, “Thank you for everything you have expressed. I feel a lot calmer about everything. Yoongi had said to look to him, Jungkook, and Seokjin to see how things should be.”
“He isn’t wrong. However, I would much rather have what you have with them be experienced with the rest of us,” says Taehyung as he slides the contract closer to you.
The contract's last page rests on top; it’s the signature page. Per standard procedure, Derik and Director Johson sign the copies before the meeting.
But that is not what catches your attention.
Every signature line is filled but one…
Yours.
“Luna y/n, Miss Y/n, Yoongi’s princess, Seokjin’s dear, Jungkook’s sugar, my doll, and all the additional names to come…” Hoseok holds out a pen to you and asks, “Will you please give us a chance?”
PART 1 / Next
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