#this has been my target area for the past week or so and boy am i feeling it mr krabs
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fatal-blow · 3 days ago
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okay im adding exercises
number one problen ive run into is that most people dont know how to flex the lower back muscles, so i'll touch on that
some ways to describe it are hiking up the hips in the back, or perking ur butt up like youre about to twerk. it will elicit sensation in the same area that the low back pain sits, and it may be difficult, uncomfortable, and/or painful to do so. the pain should not be unbearable or acute--if your body demands that you stop, listen to it. to make these exercises easier, massage the lower abdominal muscles below the belly button and make sure youre nice and warm.
once you learn how to flex the lower back, you can do this little exercise anywhere, and id recommend doing so! on top of strengthening the area, it will also help realign your body whether youre sitting, standing, or lying down and make these activities less uncomfortable for the rest of the body.
with these exercises, you will most likely start to feel the pain and tension shift to your hips and legs instead. once this starts happening, massage of the gluteal muscles and the hamstring muscles will help loosen things up. you might develop discomfort in the upper body as well, but a lot of this is going to be your body trying to realign everything now that it isnt being dragged down from behind. do your best to relax, and try to let the body go where it wants.
this exercise is my go to, youre basically humping the air.
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dont hold it, just repeat it as many times as you feel comfortable. if you cant get your hips all the way up like that, dont worry! even just getting into position (with your butt on the floor) and trying it will count as exercise, and more importantly teach you how to flex your lower back, which is more important than doing the exercise exactly as is.
thinking about lower back pain
this is the part of the body that connects the lower and upper halves, and for people who sit alot (whether they want to be sitting lots or not) often put the lower back on a stretch. this is especially true of anyone who goblin sits--and in fact goblin sitting seems to me like a symptom of lower body tension in general
like okay. bit of a simplification, but when the legs are straight, toes pointed forward and relaxed, the muscles of the legs are in their neutral position. when you sit with your legs pulled towards the chest, this keeps the muscles in the backs of the legs shortened, and the muscles in the fronts lengthened.
with neander foot (yes with this shit again) compensation patterns, typically the muscles in the backs of the legs are Overused. this makes them tight and sore, so the goblin sit is inherently protective of those muscles. it becomes typical for people to shy away from putting the legs straight, because then those muscles get stretched and this Aggravates them. when the goblin sit becomes the norm, this is a compromise: the goblin sit has become More comfy than the normal sit, even though the goblin sit is not comfortable for long periods of time.
back to the lower back, the goblin sit typical involves tipping the pelvis backwards, which again is protective of those tight, sore back of the leg muscles. as time progress, though, and those leg muscles arent addressed, the strain builds on the lower back, as those leg muscles become SO tight that they are Constantly pulling on the pelvis, sometimes even when standing.
which is where the rounded back posture comes in--
actually i think i want some pictures for this. words prolly arent enough.
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astramthetaprime · 2 years ago
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Plans and Progress
Okay, so I quit my job Friday at the end of my shift.  Without another job to go to.  Because it apparently gets easier to do once you’ve done it before.  /shrug
However!  I am not without plans, and progress is being made in other areas of life.  First, the plans.
I am taking this weekend to be a weekend.  Because weekend.  And I just quit my job.  So weekend.  
Starting Tomorrow, 1/23/2023 
I will sign up to be an Instacart in-store shopper. Grocery stores sometimes do hit one of my few sensory problems, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.  It’s like my targetting system goes crazy, I try to focus on everything at once.  Annoying, but not a desperate issue unless I’m very tired. 
I will also sign up to Rover to do dogwalking and petsitting.  Because I’m actually good with animals.  Animals are usually much more sensible and far less annoying than people.  
I am also considering signing up on Fiverr as I had an idea a while back to do small mailings.  If there’s one thing I still know it’s the postal service.  I actually came up with a pricing scheme for doing small-run (200 or less) mailings of 4 pages or less.  That’s generally how many pages you can stuff in a standard business envelope and send with a 1st Class stamp without going over the 1 ounce limit.  I can think of all kinds of uses for this, I could print, address, return address, stamp and send mailings easily.  It’s a skill I know.  Play to your strengths, work on your weaknesses, right?  
I will also re-do my resume as it’s a mess.  I’ll be putting in more applications to actual jobs but honestly if I can make enough in the gig economy it will lose importance.  I’d far rather work on my own at stuff I know and am good at than try to learn a new job at this point.  But I will re-do the resume.  
Outside of work-related, I continue to work on Pathfinder . 
Also there’s that bit of fanfic from the last post.  Because I got caught up over a good looking older guy with black hair.  Because I’m stupid for black hair.  
Good lord why did it have to be Tom Cruise?  The poster boy for L. Ron Hubbard’s ego trip?
My Buddhist intellectual heart just cracked a little.  Somewhere in my brain, a brain cell just sacrificed itself for the greater good of humanity.  I believe in data and robot spacecraft and verifiable, reproducible science as the basis for science-fiction.  As Asimov and Clarke intended!  
Okay, enough of the caterwauling, back to the post.  
Progress!  Has been Made!
This past week I was checking some prices of things on Amazon, y’know, as you do.  And I found a queen-size weighted blanket at half-price. Like, an insane price.  $23.  Not joking, it was $23 dollars.  So as it was a reasonable price and I’ve been curious I said what the heck and ordered one.  It came in this past Friday and for the past 2 nights I’ve been sleeping with it.  I’ll admit I was skeptical since I largely don’t have sensory issues except the aforementioned problems at grocery stores.  But I’m here to tell you, that thing works.  It’s like sleeping wrapped up in an octopus filled with lead shot, but I wake up in the morning and my back is not hurting, there are no hot flashes or nausea, and damn if I don’t sleep through the entire night!  I’ve had 8+ hours of solid sleep for the last 2 nights and I’m not being forced awake by my back hurting.  It’s freaking amazing.  So yeah, you guys weren’t kidding, I’d never have believed it if I wasn’t sleeping in it.  Yay Skillful Means!
I have been thinking on ways to get my original fiction out there in the world.  I am aware that part of the problem is exposure.  My first thought is audiobook versions.  I used to do a podcast many moons ago, it’s no longer online so please don’t look for it, but I narrated all my original fiction extant at that time.  And while of course I know my own work better than anybody, I am not a voice actor.  I have a thick Southern accent, an inescapable Tennessee Hillbilly accent, that simply does not lend itself to quality narration.  Also, possibly due to my autism I stutter and even to myself my speaking voice is just wrong.  I think it’s called “prosody”?  My voice is often monotone, the rhythm is often off, and thanks to the ravages of early menopause my voice dropped about 3/4ths of an octave several years ago.  So yeah, doing my own stories just would not be a sound business decision at this point.  But Audible does have this thing called ACX where authors can connect with voice actors to produce audiobooks of their work.  It’s something to think about, and certainly I’m well aware of the popularity of audiobooks.  I’ve listened to enough of them myself, that’s for sure.
The key point in all this -- I’m coming up with options rather than sinking into the abyss.  I am betting on myself, on my skills and abilities, rather than trying to shoehorn myself into the standard model of societal physics.  There are other ways to make a living where I can run my own life and not be forced into the boxes of what’s always been done.  I can make my own hours, find my own work that fits my abilities and limitations, and freaking be myself.  
Right, so.  I’m going to go watch my view count on AO3.  And try not to think about the Stupid Black Hair thing.  
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spookydrreid · 3 years ago
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The Santa Mug
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Summary: who would’ve thought a Santa mug could dig up such memories
Category: tooth rotting fluff
Content warnings: Spencer thinking about his past, happiness, fluff, they drink hot chocolate with milk, one swear
Word count: 1.1k
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Christmas season was one of merriment and nostalgia. Traditions were passed on and children made list for things they wanted. And for me and Spencer? It was about making our own traditions. He didn’t have many happy memories of the holidays, claiming after his dad left, his mother simply forgot. So, its been a process for him. One I was more than happy to help with.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me out of my little daze. It’s Spencer. He’s been away on a case for the past week, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. “Hi baby!” I smile as I speak.
“Hi sweetheart! What are you doing?” I know he can hear the hustle and bustle around me.
“Christmas shopping! I found some cute things for us!” I am overly excited for all the things that I got him. You could say I try to make up for all those years he didn’t have a good Christmas.
“I’m sure! I just wanted to tell you that we’ll be home by tomorrow. And then we can go do more Christmas shopping if you want. Maybe get lunch?”
My heart soars with excitement at the idea of him finally coming home. I missed waking up next to him, him finding me in his sleep and cuddling me in the middle of the night. I missed eating breakfast with him before sending him off to work. He was my home, and I felt lost when he wasn’t here.
“I would love that, Spence! Be careful flying home, yeah?”
I can almost hear the nod through the phone, “I promise. I’ll see you soon. I love you, pretty girl.”
My heart races at his sentiment, knowing he means it more than anything. “I love you most, pretty boy.” I giggle through the phone and he does too before we mutter our final goodbyes.
I putter around target for a little longer, looking for things to get his friends and some yankee swap gifts for the office Christmas party the BAU hosts. It was then that I stumbled upon a little Santa mug. Its just his face, beard and all. His cheeks rosy and his nose red. It’s cute and I instantly pick up two, one for me and one for him. I’m giddy inside at the idea of drinking hot chocolate out of them with the love of my life. And with that I head to the check out area.
I’m standing right inside the door way when he comes in, hands behind my back and a smile on my face. “Hi baby!” I grin as he looks at me.
He looks at my hands, still behind my back, quizzically “what cha got there, pretty girl.” He drops his bags and walks closer.
My smiles grows closer as he towers over me, “I bought us a present.” And its then that I bring my hands out from behind my back, presenting him with his mug. “I got one for me too! So we match.”
He turns the cup over in his hands, his eyes filling with tears that he tries to blink away before I see them. But he’s too late.
“D-do you not like it? I can return it! I’m sorry!” I start rambling off an apology but he stops me with a kiss.
He answers as soon as he pulls back “no I love it. So much. I just…” he takes a deep breath, wiping his tears, “I had this cup as a kid. Well, one similar. And my mom was having a bad day and thought that it was listening to us. So, she broke it.” He has a sad smile as he turns it over in his hands again.
I cant help the squeezing of my heart as the pain flashes in his face while he tells me. This happens here and there, him retelling the things he went through as a child. I want, more than anything to erase those, and turn the pain to happiness.
“That wont happen again, Spencer.” I coo as I pat his chest. “How about we make hot chocolate bombs? I bought a few in my travels!” I have a smile on my face as I ask.
“What is that?” I can see the pain fade, his curiosity getting the best of him.
I pull back, nearly bouncing as I pull him to the kitchen, using a pot to start heating up some milk. “So, they are made from melted chocolate and inside is cocoa mix and marshmallows! You just pour the hot milk over it and it melts the shell and boom! Hot cocoa!”
He grins, “I love hot cocoa! I have to try these.” The pain is gone from his eyes, excitement replacing it. Its child-like and my heart pounds with happiness. The milk gets hot enough and I pull it off the stove.
“Okay. Okay ready?” I place the ball in his Santa mug before doing the same with mine. “So you just… carefully pour this over the chocolate and…” I do it slowly, making sure to not spill. Spencer watches with wide eyes as the ball melts open, the powdered mix and marshmallows popping to the top.
“I’ll get a spoon!” While he does that, I start on mine. He hands me a spoon when I’m done and we mix up our drinks. Then I grab the whipped cream, spraying some into each mug.
I grin “okay! Try it!”
Spencer takes a sip, being careful not to burn himself. As soon as it hits his tongue he groans in delight, “fuck that’s good!”
My eyes widen at his vulgar statement before a laugh bubbles out of me. “Did you just swear?”
He giggles and shrugs as he takes a sip, “its really good what can I say!” When the laughter dies down, he smiles over at me, eyes filled with love.
“What?” I ask, stepping closer.
He kisses me, tasting of our drinks, “I just… you always know how to turn a sad memory into a happy one. And I just couldn’t be more grateful for you.”
Its all I can do not to cry, “anything for you, Spence. You deserve all the good in this world. Always.”
He kisses my forehead, “I have all the good… because of you.”
I kiss his nose, “you’ll always have me. Always.”
@worryd0ll​ @eideticsreid​​​ @muffin-cup​​​ @will-on-the-internet​​​ @mikewizkalifa​​ @dr-spencerr-reidd​ @reidsconverse​ @spenxerslut​ ​ @ssaalexisreid​ @thisiscalm-andits-doctor r​ @princesssmooshie​ @spencersawkward​ @spencerreidat3am​ @xoxospencerreid​ @reiding-recs @aayaissaa @spencerreid9 @sixxslut @doctorspenceryeet @lmfaosoph @freakyhood96 @mochionly @k-k0129 @measure-in-pain @rrtxcmt @withasideofmeg @totallyclearwitch @dhmaki @vaella1821 @shemarmooresfedora @tbuhgs @frickin-bats @dazzlingnights @manuosorioh @luvofyourlifeliv @reidsbookclub @mikhailogallavich @coldlilheart @reidsacademia @sassymoon @nomajdetective @spideygenius @goldensonlyangel
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1kook · 4 years ago
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imax & climax
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summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k
notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn
[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]
Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.
“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.
“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”
The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.
“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.
Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”
You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.
“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”
You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”
——
You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.
Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.
It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.
Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.
So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)
You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.
She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.
You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.
“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.
“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”
——
You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.
Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.
Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.
A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.
His mom was going to kill him.
“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.
There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.
“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.
“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.
“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”
“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”
“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.
“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”
Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”
He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.
You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”
His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.
“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.
Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“
You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.
It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.
Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.
“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”
“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”
Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”
“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”
Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.
“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.
Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.
You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.
He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.
The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.
Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.
You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.
(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)
The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.
“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.
“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”
He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—
He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.
“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”
Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.
As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.
Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.
There it was.
The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.
“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.
He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.
He complains quietly, but he settles.
For all of twenty seconds.
“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”
“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”
The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.
His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.
Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”
“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.
You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.
(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)
“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.
A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.
Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.
“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”
He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.
You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.
You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.
Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”
You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.
Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.
However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.
It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.
You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.
“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”
He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.
It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.
“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.
Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.
“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“
A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”
On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.
From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.
These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.
Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.
Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.
You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.
Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.
Today... well.
You were playing a different game.
The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.
“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.
Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.
The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.
After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”
Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.
Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.
Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.
The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.
Until now.
Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.
You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.
Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.
You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”
Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.
A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.
Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.
His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.
The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”
“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.
But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.
You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.
The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.
You loved it.
As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.
It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.
Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.
With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”
You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.
Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.
When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.
It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.
Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.
“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.
Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.
You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.
“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.
One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.
Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.
Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”
His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.
When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.
Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.
You blink. “Huh?”
Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.
A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“
Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”
It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.
Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says
Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”
One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.
“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.
“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.
Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.
When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.
A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.
You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.
He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”
The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.
“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.
“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.
You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.
Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.
His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.
“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.
“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.
You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”
A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”
You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”
“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.
“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”
Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.
Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”
“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.
“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“
He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.
The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.
Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.
“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.
“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”
“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.
“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”
Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.
Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.
When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.
“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.
You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”
Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”
“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”
He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”
“Get off of me.”
——
Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.
What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.
——
Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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uwuwriting · 4 years ago
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What did I miss? w/ Hawks and Dabi
Request: Okay so hear me out: Hawks’ and Dabi’s s/o (as separate headcanons, or you can just choose one) is also a pro hero/villain and the lads think she died or something and they just become enraged and they’re so distressed (and the ending is soft because she’s okay and maybe they cry) I love your writing, I hope you have a nice day! -🐍
Lol I had a similar request some time ago for our younger boys which I never got around to doing because I’m bad at fulfilling requests and following orders lol. This will be both hilarious and angsty. Well hilarious if you have my sense of humour otherwise I’ll have to add cricket sounds. Okay maybe its not that funny but oh well, it didn’t make me cry at least. Love ya. 💖💖💖
masterlist
rules
warnings: angst and fluff, mentions of injury and death, swearing. 
Hawks/ Keigo Takami 
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-Having two winged heroes on patrol always kinda led to disaster. 
-You both would race each other to your randevouz points or you would mock each other about your wing span. 
- “You know what they say about your wing span? The bigger the wings well....the bigger the assets.” 
-You had bigger wings then him just for a few centimeters but you rubbed it in his face all the time. 
- “Why am I in love with you again?” 
-It really bothers him bc you keep saying he has a smaller dick than you....and you don’t have a dick so.....yeah....anyways. 
-You were on patrol once again, goofing around on a rooftop.
 -It was late at night and you could be a little more handsy since there were’t many possibilities someone could walk in on you. 
-Keeping your relationship a secret is hard and baby can keep his hands to himself for so long until he breaks. 
-Suddenly out of nowhere you started hearing screams and cries for help. 
-Keigo didn’t even get a chance to say anything before you were flying towards the building that was on FIRE. 
-Dashing right after you he entered the building nad he was half expecting to see you there in the entrance, but he saw no one, only a large chunk of flaming wood etched into the mahogony floor. 
-His mind immediately went to the worst scenario possible; it was like he couldn’t control his own thoughts.
-But right then, when his panic was beginning to surface, he heard you calling out for him. 
-The rescue of the residents took around half an hour and it got harder and harder as time went on. 
-The fire was getting out of control and was getting harder to locate everyone.
 -One apartment was left in the end and you could here crying coming from inside. 
-The fire was basically licking at your boots at this point but you weren’t about to let someone burn. 
- “Get those last two outside and I’ll meet you at the rooftop across the street.” 
- “Y/N-”
- “Keigo GO! I promise I’ll meet you outside.” 
-And that was the last thing he heard from you that night. 
-He did as he was told, he got the last two people out of the building and soon after them a toddler was carried out of the building. 
-He waited for you to come out next but you never came. 
-The flames licked at the sky, their tips seeming to be touching the moon. 
-The roof collapsed in on itself making the rescue teams to back away as they looked in horror as the whole flat came crumbling down. 
- “SHE’S IN THERE!” 
-HE doesn’t remember much from that night. 
-He knows he went back inside or at least tried to get past the debris. 
-He remembers seeing the color of your wings, that beautiful white, peeking out from under a fallen beam. 
-He remembers the upper floor almost crashing him as he tried to get you out and then nothing. 
-He woke up in a hospital bed, dressed in one of those white robes his whole body screaming at him not to move. 
-If he was being honest he forgot for a moment the events of the previous night and he was expecting to find you sleeping on the chair next to his bed, your hand in his just like you had done so many times before. 
-But you weren’t there and then everything came pouring in. 
-Frantically he got up and he reached for the door, yanking it open and coming face to face with a doctor. 
- “Where is she?” 
- “Sir you should be in bed, you injuries-” 
- “goddammit WHERE IS SHE?”
-His outburst had attracted some of the nurses but he couldn’t care less about his image right now. 
-Where you gone? But he remembers getting you out from under those fallen stairs. Maybe you were already dead when he reached you. 
-No no no you had promised ot find him outside, you had told him so. That’s why he left, that’s why he did as you said. What was he supposed to do now? Without you here what is he supposed to do?
-Everything was muffled out, the ringing in his ears being to loud to allow him to focus on anything else. 
-His breaths came out shallow as his head swam with thoughts. 
-You couldn’t be gone you just couldn’t he had so much he wanted to do with you, so many things planned you couldn’t-
- “Keigo?”
-He turned around slowly. 
-At first he thought he was dreaming, your voice always seemed to soothe him when he was destressed. 
-But then his eyes landed on you all bandaged up and sporting crutches. 
-You were hurt but you were alive, you were here, you were alright.
- “What did I miss birdbrain?”
-He launched himself at you bringing you flush to his chest as he silently cried. 
-He let a few I love yous slip past his lips before you both entered the privacy of his hospital room. 
-Neither of you spoke for a long time. 
-You just held each other as tightly as your stitches would allow before letting all the tears fall. 
- “I’m here, we’re alright.”
Dabi
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-You had been sent out on a mission on your own. 
-Dabi had tried to convince Shiggy to let him go with you but he refused. 
- “I’m not sending you on this one with her. She is the best suited for this job and I’m not letting you mess it up just for your fuck buddy.”
-Shiggy really knows how to push Dabis’ buttons and if you ask me Dabi makes it easy at times. 
-They were a pain in the ass. 
-I mean you are going out on a mission let a girl get prepared in peace.
-Before they could set each other on fire and then dissolve into dust you dragged Dabi away telling Shiggy that you would be going soon. 
- “Really Dabi at times I doubt if you trust me at all.” 
- “It’s not that I don’t trust you dumbass. I just dontwantyoutogethurt.”
-Legit you didn’t hear anything he said but you had an inkling.
- “Oh what was that?”
- “I’m not saying it again.”
- “Here I am going out on a dangerous mission and you won’t even grant me one wish...how cruel.”
-He ended up saying it again but really really begrudgingly. 
- “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” 
-You kissed his nose then his lips and let out a small I love you before heading down to the bar and getting the last info from Kurogiri. 
-Now Dabi likes to see himself as a very heartless and stone cold individual. 
-But you always were the exception to his behaviors so he couldn’t help but admit that he was worried. 
-The mission was supposed to take three days plus one for you to return. 
-It was still day two and he was ready to pull his hair out. 
-But he promised you that he wouldn’t go out to search for you unless you have been gone for a week or more. 
-So he just waited in agony.
-The moment though that you weren’t back in a week as you said you would be he went into a silent panic. 
-He wanted to be nonchalant about it at first, just casually bringing up your whereabouts in convos with the league or asking Kurogiri of any mission reports from your end. 
-Always came up with nothing. 
-They had lost track of you two days ago and your last contact was yesterday. 
-Now he was sure going to come after you. 
-And no one could stop him. 
-He knew you were strong and that you could handle yourself better than anyone in the league but he couldn’t stop himself from going after you. 
-He had learned from Shiggy that the group you had targeted had a soft spot for torture if they caught someone in their territory.
-His mind of course went first to the worst case scenario, his pessimistc nature getting the better of him as flashes of you hurt on the floor of some basement ran throough his head.  
-It didn’t take him long to reach your randevouz spot, mainly bc he was driving around Tokyo like a maniac. 
-He entered the small house that was marked as you target and the first thing he was met with was blood. 
-It was on the walls and on the floor and he couldn’t tell if this was yours or it was someone elses. 
-Then he heard suffling from a closet nearby. 
-It was a low scratching noise coming from the closet in the far back. 
-He slowly approached it, his left arm letting small blue flames lick his fingertips as he opened the door. 
-And then his heart dropped. 
-Tumbling out of the closets’ interior was you, bloddied and bruised your arms barely keeping you propped up as you landed on the floor. 
-He didn’t miss a beat. 
-He scooped you up, moving stray hairs from your eyes as you barely kept them open.
-Your lip was split and you had a huge bruise right under your left eye. 
- “Hey there baby.”
- “What the fuck happened Y/N?”
-You cringed as he moved his arms under your back, the pain being too much even for you. 
- “They were waiting for me. I sent a message to Shiggy saying that I was coming back but he insisted I finish this. I managed to kill the leader but some of his rookies got to me.”
-He didn’t take you to the hideout. 
-Oh no.
-If he had done that then there would be no Shiggy to lead them and there would’ve been a large fire in that area. 
-He rented a room in a nearby motel. 
-He let you rest while he went out and got you some disinfectants and bandages. 
-Really when he was cleaning you up, if his tear ducts worked properly he would’ve cried. 
-You woke up at some point while he was finishing up and you could feel his trembling and his silent sobs. 
-You wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him as much as you could as you let your tears wet his t-shirt. 
-His hands went up and down your sides and back, pulling you into his lap as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. 
- “I’m alright, see? That’s my heart beat.” 
-You placed one of his palms over your heart in hopes that the subtle thud would calm him down. 
-He really loves you and he won’t let anything happen to you ever again. 
-Even if it kills him. 
TAG TEAM AY: 
@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @bemorefiction​
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rothjuje · 3 years ago
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I’ve been trying to figure out for the past couple years why/how I turned into such an introvert—and it’s energy. With three kids I just have less energy to spare. When I have energy, social interactions create more energy. When I’m tired, nope. I just need alone time or maybe a nap.
Daylight savings was brutal. It’s Thursday and George is still up at 5 am. Whyyy. At least the twins are napping well.
So. Target. Two things.
My Target obsession is back. I used to go at least twice a week and now we’re going at least twice a week again. I thought ‘oh it’s just the basic white girl in me’ and maybe it is.
But. The only thing I buy there is groceries. And kids’ socks. And maybe a pair of pants or a jacket if the kids are running low. I don’t think I’ve bought a home decor thing from there in 3 years.
Anyway. There is a reason Target is so inviting. Grocery stores stress me the eff out. First, they’re cold. Loud. Unpleasant. Poorly lit. The aisles are close together. And this is how I feel about all grocery stores, even Whole Foods. I hate being cold. I think grocery stores are just sensory overload for me. So many items in such a small place, so many people buzzing around and in my way.
(I could do that thing where you park and people bring stuff to your car but I can’t sit, it makes me antsy, and I much rather walk around a store than sit on the couch and search for grocery items while kids are crawling all over me)
Okay. Second thing.
Target has a kid’s cart (a plastic bench for two children attached to a regular cart). When one of these carts is available, we stick the girls next to each other on the bench and George rides in the cart seat area.
Whenever we use a kid’s cart, it’s like an invitation for strangers to come up and comment on the children. ????
If it’s just the twins and they’re sitting next to each other on the bench, everyone just stares and smiles or says “how cute!” or “omg twins!” They both have fluffy blondish hair and blue eyes and definitely look like twins when they’re side by side. Anyway. It’s sweet even though I probably rather shop in peace.
But when all 3 are sitting together people will come up and do one of two things 1) try to figure out the gender ???? or 2) comment on how beautiful George is.
It drives Justin CRAZY. He hates when people think George is a girl and he hates when people call him beautiful “because boys aren’t supposed to be beautiful.”
Anyway. Some grandpa character came up last week. All 3 kids were wearing dark blue (the kids wear a lot of dark blue and navy because it’s Justin’s and Alyssa’s favorite). So grandpa guy comes up and is like “let me guess...that ones a girl, that ones a girl, and that ones a girl?” Justin just walked away.
But why do you need to guess what my children are? What do I even say to that that isn’t confrontational or awkward because social anxiety?
And I HATE when people say George is beautiful. If it was just him, then that would be sweet, and obviously he is beautiful. But when my other kids are sitting there and you’re pointing out that only one of them is beautiful? Rude.
Related: several people have referred to George as Justin’s daughter on walks, at the park, etc.
So. Justin wants to cut George’s hair. If you’re observing Jewish law, you wait until age 3. Justin says he’ll respect my wishes until then since that was the original agreement. But lately we’ve been arguing because I want to keep it long and Justin wants it in a crew cut. After hours of discussing this and looking at pictures online, we’ve agreed that it’s really not our choice anyway and we will ask George what he wants when he turns three.
Okay most pointless post over. But why do people even have to say he or she? I have never said son or daughter or girl or boy to strangers. I’ve always said “they’re so cute!” So simple.
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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years ago
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Not by the Moon | 05
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Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU
Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader
Warnings: A sprinkle of grumpy jealous werewolf!Jaebeom who gets a wee bit violent, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, werewolf courting, sexual tension, werewolf!Jaebeom acting like a pup, and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.
Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.
Unchanging.
None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.
And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.
That is when Time truly started ticking.
Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV. Bam and Jinyoung make a cameo.
Previous Chapter / Next chapter
Masterlist
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Wonderful as a trip abroad might be, there’s nothing that can compare to the secret feeling of relief when returning home. No longer there is luggage to drag along, languages to swap between, or cultures to assimilate to. While it is in good fun, it’s also physically and mentally exhausting. Henceforth, coming home is like a cozy blanket to wrap around your shoulders by the fire on a cold November day. And once you’re bundled up, it is time to breathe easy and rest.
Although, home is not necessarily a place. In fact, mine has made good on his promise and puppy dreams, standing in the crowd to pick me up.
“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out as we enter the hall of arrivals, “over here!”
Manes tucked away under a dark red beanie and wearing a simple black jacket over an oversized black shirt, Jaebeom waves to pull attention to himself.
“Who’s that?” Bam follows my gaze to the adorable tall man as we make our way through the crowd of trolleys, suitcases, hellos and goodbyes. “Is that the dude you’ve been texting and calling?”
“He is,” I whisper in reply as we approach him. With every step, the storm of butterflies in my stomach worsens although I feel light as air at the same time. Happiness in Love is a strange thing. 
“So that’s your boyfriend,” my colleague purrs. He sounds pleased in the way I imagine he’d sound if he was my older brother.
I whip my head around, tongue-tied but not enough to protest the assumption. “He’s not my boyfriend!”
Bam merely chuckles to himself, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he continues. “Sure he isn’t, Y/N. After all, you’ve not been touching your lips and turning into a blushy mess afterwards. Or keeping those books you have with you close at all times, looking at them fondly.”
“Of course I am.” Jaebeom jumps into the conversation when we’ve reached him, acting as if he’s heard our conversation perfectly through the ruckus of the crowd. The sparkle in his eyes dims and turns into a poisonous glare when he notices the guy besides me. “Who are you?”
“JB, this is Kunpimook.’’ I gesture from one to the other, jaw clenched in the hope the wolf man won’t actively show the hostility harboured in his gaze. ‘’The colleague I told you about.”
“Just call me Bam.” Politely, he holds out his hand.
“Im Jaebeom,” the other man introduces himself, fortunately accepting the gesture howbeit with a strained expression. “Her boyfriend.”
“Hey, you must be Y/N.” Holding a tray with three coffee cups in it, a young man joins our company. 
Like Jaebeom, who has proudly proclaimed himself my boyfriend, he is tall, slender yet muscular in build and has black hair. Nevertheless, whereas Jaebeom has a flair of being unapproachable, the stranger has a boyish air around him that’s open for contact.
He moves the carrier from his right hand to his left for a handshake. “I’m Jinyoung.”
Immediately, bells start ringing at the mention of his name. After all, there hasn’t been a single call the past week wherein he wasn’t mentioned. “Jaebeom’s told me about you. You’re a professor at the university here, right?”
“I am,” he beams, his proud tone indicating how much he likes his job. “I teach Mythology. It’s a course that encompasses folklore around the world, so it’s fairly broad.”
“You teach only one course?”
“I do, but I’m also a doctor. Well, still studying to be one officially, but I’m allowed to work at the university’s clinic already.”
 “Wow.’’ A professor and a doctor. There’s little else I can say as a mere travel journalist, so I just try to remain casual despite being utterly gobsmacked. 
“I know, it’s a lot. Nevertheless, somehow I manage to do it and occasionally write an article.”
How does he do it? He’s likely not that much older than I, but he’s evidently busier than I am.
“Show-off.” The grumbled insult interferes with the friendly conversation. The focus of Jaebeom’s glare has changed targets from Bam to the professor. However, the latter doesn’t seem to notice his friend’s chagrin.
“I’m simply introducing myself, Jay. Here,” Jinyoung hands him one of the paper cups from the carrier, “your apple and cinnamon tea.”
“You drink tea now?” I raise an eyebrow, surprised. It sounds like a strange concept because I’ve never seen him drink anything but black coffee.
“Doctor’s orders,” JB murmurs in response, discontent and keeping a close eye on Bam as he nips the warm beverage.
“I’ve put him on tea, preferably green, to lower the caffeine levels in his blood. Otherwise, he’ll be staying up all night reading and trying to cook. Oh,” he reaches for something in his pocket, pulling out a small bottle like the one JB showed me in the park and handing it to his friend, “you forgot your meds.”
“You’re on medication?” Bam asks without any implications or judgment. The funny thing is, despite being extroverted and extravagant - extra, in general - he actually studied psychology and thought about becoming a psychiatrist for a while. Therefore, he has a general interest in medicine and its function of helping the human psyche.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jaebeom sneers sarcastically, his voice closer to a growl than human speech. Then, he turns his attention to Jinyoung, who continues to hold his calm. “Why are you giving this to me now? Couldn’t you wait until we’re back? I’m not gonna take them in front of some stranger, especially not someone close to her. Besides, what does skipping one time or by a few hours matter?”
“Jay, don’t be like this,’’ the young professor sighs. ‘’You know how important timing is, especially with this new treatment.”
“You’re embarrassing me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are!”
A nudge against my shoulder distracts me from the fierce bickering, Bam lowly whispering he’s leaving for home as well as an apology for what he has unleashed. I answer in a similar fashion when promising to call him later and apologizing for putting him into this situation. He merely waves dismissively, unbothered, and disappears in the crowd of trolleys and journeying strangers.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I intervene lest the situation gets out of hand. A hand on his chest, I try to distract Jaebeom by shifting his focus to me. “Let’s go search for somewhere quiet around here where it’s just us. It’s important to me too you take your meds.”
“Let’s just go home.” His features soften, compromising like I did that day in the bookshop and didn’t want to eat. “I’ll take them in the car, alright?”
“Why do you have to be cross with me about it when you readily accept to take them when Y/N tells you to?” Jinyoung crosses his arms in defiance, lips pulled into a displeased pout.
 “Because she’s my mate,” Jaebeom argues, sure to show his teeth. Withal, he turns into a gentle giant again once he wraps an arm around my waist and looks down at me with so much adoration I feel my cheeks burning up. “Girlfriend, I mean. We’re dating, so she’s my girlfriend.”
“We’ve only been out together once,” I sputter. It’s wonderful to hear the affirmation we’re an item, although I still think it’s a bit too early to claim we are.
“Twice after today. And we’ve kissed,” he corrects me, tone indicating there is no use in protesting. Nevertheless, the sternness wavers as it warms into merriment. “I got you something. I’ll give it to you once we’re home.”
Jinyoung leans in as we head to the exit, whispering. “He went kinda overboard.”
“I didn’t,” Jaebeom growls. “Stop embarrassing me. Know your fucking place.”
“Boys,” I sigh in warning.
Both lower their head and let out a whimper in apology. “Sorry.”
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“This is where you live?” Jinyoung parks the car in front of the tall white brick building overlooking the quay at the edge of town.
“Wow...” Jaebeom murmurs in the passenger seat, awed by the fact I live on the east side of town. It’s a recently redeveloped area, the warehouses refurbished into apartment complexes to help combat the growing housing issue.
“I do. Not for much longer, though.”
Both men turn in their seats, looking at me as if I’m insane.
 “You’re moving out?” The professor asks, although it’s more of an exclamation than a question. “Why would you leave this place? It’s one of the most desired places to live within the city.”
However, JB doesn’t care about the reason which makes me want to leave the neighbourhood behind. Instead, he’s anxious to know where to find me. “Where will you go?”
“Do you know those orchards on the outskirts of town? With the old cottages?” Both nod as confirmation. “Well, that’s where I’ll be moving to. I’ve been meaning to get out of the city for a while. Granted, the harbour district isn’t as busy as the city centre. But, despite being only twenty-two, I crave the silence of the countryside. Or, rather, its tranquility which I can also find in the suburbs.”
“You’re twenty-two?” Jaebeom asks, head tilted to the side.
 “I am,’’ I admit as I pull my knees up to make myself as small as possible. ‘’I never mentioned it because I didn’t think it’d matter. Does it, though?”
My voice is hardly audible, a frog stuck in my throat. Why did I have to be the one to bring this up?
“No, not at all! I still like you. A lot. A lot, a lot. But, I’m older than you. Quite a bit, I think.”
“How old?” The question barely rolls off the tongue, pale with dread.
Please, don’t let there be too big of an age gap.
“I’m twenty...” He looks at Jinyoung, brow furrowed.
“Twenty-eight,” the good doctor whispers, unconscious of the fact that the well-meant reminder is loud enough for me to hear.
“Twenty-eight,” Jaebeom confirms, staring back at me in anticipation. “Six years difference. Does it matter? To you, I mean. In how you see me?”
“It doesn’t. Do you see me differently?”
“I never did.”
“Age is only a number, after all,” the professor pitches in to cheer us up further. “Anyway, I’m dropping you off here.”
“Can’t you stay?” Surely I can’t let him leave without at least thanking him with a cup of coffee or tea.
“I’d love to, but- Don’t you snarl at me.” He points an accusing finger at JB, who’s showing his teeth and lowly growling like he did at the airport.
Caught red-handed, the wolfish man feigns ignorance and stares out the window. However, his sulky expression and scoff betray his true feelings.
“As I was saying,” Jinyoung continues after an exasperated sigh, “I’d love to, but I get to attend an interesting transplant operation today and have a bit of research to do for a new article.”
“That’s a shame. I owe you a cup of coffee, then. That’s the least I can do to repay you for driving me home.”
“I’ll make good on that promise soon. But for now, go on, you two.” He motions for us to get out of the car. “Don’t make it awkward by making me the third wheel.”
“Jinyoung.” Hesitantly, the big wolf man holds up his fist.
“No hard feelings.” He bumps his fist against JB’s.
“Good.” The seat belt comes undone, but Jaebeom doesn’t move to step outside yet. Instead, he leans in towards Jinyoung and takes a whiff, squinting as invisible question marks float in the air. “You smell weird, though.”
“Really?” The other man sniffs the collar of his jacket, shrugging casually in jest. “It’s not that bad.”
“Jinyoung.” Despite still looking a bit pale with remorse, the wolf man says the professor’s name harshly, his voice deep as he chastises the turn to humour. He grows still, gaze focused on his friend as he tries to look for what’s unspoken in the other’s body language.
However, there is nothing to see. Although, if there actually is something off, the professor hides it well. But Jaebeom doesn’t get the chance to scrutinize him long enough to see for himself because Jinyoung turns back to the wheel and waves dismissively. “I’m alright, Jae. Go. Have fun with your girlfriend.”
His friend nods, a strained look on his face, and opens the door. I follow behind, having silently observed the conversation from the backseat.
What’re you worried about? Jinyoung looks fine. Nothing wrong with him whatsoever.
Nevertheless, barely have we opened the trunk when the doctor hangs out the window. “And don’t forget your present!”
“Got it right here.” In confirmation, Jaebeom holds up a neat-looking paper bag, chique enough to originally have been used in a boutique.
“That’s my boy,” he chuckles before he resumes his seat.
With a dull thud, Jaebeom closes the trunk again. 
The engine roars to life and the car pulls out of the parking lot, Jinyoung honking a few times as we see him off.
I look from Jaebeom to the bag, leaning in to try and sneak a peek of its contents. “What did you get me?”
You promised me a shirt, but do you really need this big of a bag for one?
“I’m not telling you,” he muses.
I straighten my posture, a smile building as a golden opportunity presents itself. “Aw, what’s in the box?”
“Box? Y/N, it’s a bag.”
“I know, but- Never mind.” I wave the apparently obscure allusion with a dismissive gesture, disappointed he doesn’t get the reference. “Let’s go inside.”
“Are you upset?” he asks as we walk to the entrance of the building.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Another reassuring question burns on his tongue, but before he can ask it I stand on the tips of my toes to peck him on the lips and nose. “I’m not going to get upset simply because you didn’t understand me. Besides, it’s just a trivial matter. Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.” 
Though I failed the first time, I again try to get a better look at the mysterious bag. As before, the attempt is in vain. “And curious.”
“I think you’ll like it. In fact,” his lips pull into a smug smirk, “I’m fairly sure you’ll look pretty in it. More pretty than you do now.”
It’s prettier.
I let the mistake slide.
To let him have his little moment of triumph.
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There is no place like home. Truly, not a single hotel room or bed and breakfast in the world can substitute the small studio with its minimalistic interior in shades of white and grey.
I breathe in deeply, glad to stand in the familiar narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and space beyond. A faint musty smell cuts through the fragrance of the Nordic leather diffuser sticks I bought before going to Belgium.
Guess I’ll be cleaning tomorrow.
Luckily, it’s been only a few days so the level of dust isn’t too bad. Notwithstanding, the place could do with a little clean-up.
“Well, this is me.”
“I know,” Jaebeom replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes on me.
“No, I mean, this,” I gesture around as I walk into the apartment, “is my place. My house.”
He murmurs something under his breath, seemingly contrasting two words as he tries to understand them or, rather, the difference between them.
“It’s nice,” he remarks when he has figured out his train of thought, looking around appreciatively.
“The cottage will be nicer, I think. I can’t wait to decorate it, make it cozier than this place. Maybe get some plants, hang up a few photos-’’
“A few of us together, maybe?” He proposes as he, too, takes his shoes off and follows me into the living room.
“For example.” I nod at the bag when we settle down on the couch next to the window overlooking the quay. “Can I open my present now?”
“Say ‘please’.” Arms crossed, he leans in so our faces are mere inches away from each other. His breath ghosts warmly over my lips when he continues in a tender yet playful babying tone. “Life is short, but there is always time for courtesy. Manners, young lady.”
“Can I open my present, please?” Regardless of the chance to finally satisfy my curiosity, I don’t dive into the gift directly. Instead, I stay my hand, bothered by a nagging feeling his words are familiar to me. “What you just said, isn’t that a quote?”
“It is, but,’’ Jaebeom bites his lip, eyes averted to the ground, ‘’to be honest, I can’t remember who said it.”
Funny, how you can remember quotes. Maybe that’s how we can communicate in the future if your condition gets worse. Although, let’s hope that’s not the case for a long time.
“Ralph…’’ I start, trying to recall who originally said it. ‘’Ralph Waldo? No, that’s not right. He went by his middle name. Wait, his middle name was Ralph so it was him.”
“Have you read his work?”
“Honestly speaking, I haven’t. However, I have a friend who studies American literature and poetry and she sends poems, quotes and the occasional snippet. I think I’ve seen him in passing. Anyways,’’ I pull the bag onto my lap, giddy as a child in a candy shop, ‘’let’s see what’s inside.”
The present catches me off-guard because the bundles of clothing are both what I expected and yet not. “You...” I trail off, checking and double checking the amount of shirts. “Seven?”
“One for every day of the week,” he beams, proudly barking his reasoning.
These will last me two weeks if not longer. Minimalism isn’t his thing, is it?
I pull out a big grey hoodie and hold it up to my nose to sniff it. A wild forest of which the air is faintly scented by a cologne with fruity undertones and the musty smell of books. I hum contently, enraptured by the scent. By him. 
From the corner of my eye, I see Jaebeom grinning in unadulterated amusement. Albeit not without effort, I lower the article of clothing. “I know this is likely stupid to ask, but eventually they’ll have to be washed so what if your scent fades?”
“I’ll just scent them again.’’ He shrugs casually before he points inside the bag. ‘’Also, what’s in the little box on the bottom might help with that too.”
In my astonishment, I missed the cardboard square at the bottom which turns out to be the packaging for a bottle of cologne. “You can spray it on. Sure, it’s not really purely my scent but hopefully it’s still rem- remi- a reminder of me.”
You meant reminiscent, didn’t you?
“Or I can go to you and have you scent them,” I joke, only half-serious.
“If that means more time together,” his mismatched eyes sparkling with gleeful stars, “sure, why not? I’d be glad to help.”
“Thank you.’’ Absentmindedly, I fidget with the folds of the hoodie. ‘’I really like it.”
Jaebeom ruffles my hair, letting out a chuff. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you just sit tight and I’ll make us something to eat?”
“Don’t set my kitchen aflame, though,” I warn him as the wolf man gets up from the couch.
“I won’t,” he answers smugly before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I promise.”
With a spring in his step, JB sets off for the kitchen with the bag of groceries he pulled from Jinyoung’s trunk. The two must have dropped by the supermarket before coming to pick me up.
A pillow propped up against the armrest and the blanket formerly draped over the couch now covering my shoulders, I lie down for a nap.
As consciousness fades, a warm affectionate wolfish smile pierces through the growing haze. Jaebeom murmurs something unintelligible and turns his gaze back to the chopping board.
I am home.
Dreaming of two little pups running around an orchard.
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“Dinner’s ready!” The loud remark barely filters in until it’s repeated up close, the merry bark lowered in volume. A hand shakes my shoulder, but what does the trick in waking me up is the warm wetness nibbling away at my ear. However, it doesn’t stay there, but travels down the side of my neck and ends its journey at the hem of my shirt, giving it a gentle yet fierce tug.
“Y/N, come on. Get up,” JB whines, the words distorted thanks to keeping the fabric firmly between his teeth. He tugs at it again.
What on earth?
I turn onto my other side, causing the big wolf man to let go. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get you to eat.” He makes himself smaller, gaze briefly averted to the side before looking at me again, continuing in the same tender yet stern tone he uses whenever food is involved. “With me. This is my first time cooking for you and I practiced really hard while you were away. So, please, eat with me. I want to know whether I did a good job.”
“Do you have to drag me by the collar for that?” I reach out to scratch him behind his ear, tracing his jaw as my fingers work upwards.
Jaebeom’s eyes mist over, his expression turning dreamy as he leans into the touch. “Want- Don’t know… know how to- Come to… kitchen. Although, maybe, just...”
“Feels good?”
A hasty sheepish smile flashes on his lips as he nods in agreement, eyes closed and speechless.
You really are a wolf. Weirdo. My weirdo.
A whine slips out when I stop. JB slowly opens his eyes again, blinks a few times before he clears his throat. “Can we do that again? After dinner, maybe?”
 “If I liked what you made, sure. However,” I kiss his forehead, “since you asked so nicely, we can do this again after we’ve eaten. So, will you eat with me?”
Will you stay with me?
“What’s wrong?” Picking up on the worrying thought, he tilts his head to the side and scrutinizes my face as he did Jinyoung’s earlier today.
“Nothing.” I shake my head, dismissing the thought since we’ve already said everything there is to say about it. “Just a silly thought.”
His expression falters. “I’m being over- overbear- too much.”
“No, not at all! Don’t say that, silly.”
Jaebeom nudges my nose with his, his tone sweet in an attempt to make me confess what’s bothering me. “Then what is it?”
“I’ve never done this before,” I admit at last. “No one’s ever cooked for me aside from my mom and grandmother or had a guy proudly proclaim himself as my boyfriend. This is simply new to me so it makes me feel, well, a bit awkward. It’s unreal, like a dream that might go up in smoke any second. That’s maybe a better way to put it.”
“I’m really here. Also, remember what you promised me? You’d stay by my side until you can’t anymore and I promised you the same. I’m a wolf, after all. Loyal to my pack or, rather, my- uh- my bi- no, that’s wrong. My lady,” he grabs my hand and lifts the fingers to his lips for a chaste kiss, “I am your gentleman and I won’t go anywhere without telling you first. And, if possible, I’ll take you with me because I refuse to leave you behind. But for now, let’s go eat. Together. I’ll try not to make a mess.”
Don’t cry, Y/N. Don’t you tear up right in front of him.
I take in a shivering breath, swallow hard, and try to regain composure.
We’re here together and wherever it is we’re going next, we’ll be there as we are now.
Side by side.
Even though I’m hungry and the table is literally three steps away, I groan as I get up from the couch. Travelling takes its toll, no matter how short the distance might be. All the same, I shuffle towards the chair facing the kitchen and plop down on it, watching JB plate up. “What are we having?”
“Steak with blanched vegetables and sweet potato mash,” he proudly announces while serving the food.
“Uhm, that’s very nice. However- it’s alright if you don’t remember, but I’m vegetarian.”
“I remembered.” A bright smile forms on his lips, eyes alight with triumph and joy. “That’s why your steak is soy-based. I found it while doing groceries or, rather, Jinyoung pointed it out. He’s been teaching me how to cook and bake. Well, we’re still working on the latter, but I did bring homemade cheesecake for dessert. I still wonder why they call it cheesecake when what’s going in it isn’t really cheese.”
“Beats me too.”
“You got slapped by cream cheese?” Visibly gobsmacked, he leans in with an expression that holds the middle between curiosity and utter confusion. “How did that happen and was it painful?”
“I mean I don’t understand either,” I reply, shaking my head with a low chuckle, and cut into the steak. As the knife sinks into it, a rosy fluid oozes out of it as if it’s been cooked medium-raw which is exactly how I liked it back in my non-vegetarian days. “But baking hasn’t been a success?”
Jaebeom sits back, shoulders hunched as he pokes the carrot on his plate with his fork. “I burned a cake, pulled it from the oven as black as charcoal. Then there’s the case of the exploded soufflés and marble cake that turned out to have no marbling at all. Not to speak of the melted... what’re they called again? There’s also a song that’s got to do with them. Jinyoung sings it a lot. Rocky road! Melted rocky roads and millionaire’s breads.”
“Maybe stick to cooking instead of baking. Not everyone has a knack for both.”
He sighs in defeat. “Maybe I should, but I’ll still try to make you something every once in a while that’s actually good.”
“As long as you don’t blow up one of our kitchens.” I include my kitchen as well because the mere thought of baking together spreads a rosy flush throughout my body that leaves me warm with affection. Besides, it’s another excuse to see him wear an apron, maybe pull some shenanigans myself and have something to eat with a cup of tea or coffee and a good book.
That would make for a nice date. We should do that soon.
“I’ll try.” He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”
The adorable genuineness of the determined gesture is what drives me to seal the promise by wrapping my pinky around his. “I’ll hold you to it.”
While eating the simple yet well-made dinner, the conversation is about novels, the shop, Jinyoung’s cooking lessons and the weary stories of how Kunpimook and I crossed Bruges in search of the best chocolate. Jaebeom hasn’t done much in the time I was away it seems. The bookshop’s been quiet, so he’s had plenty of time to read and work on his cooking. Nevertheless, his expression turns dreamy when I show him the pictures from the trip, but right beneath the surface of it floats a form of sad longing which is too unclear to be certain of or to be properly described.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m glad you got to see this,” he murmurs as he takes my phone from my hand to leave through the collection again. “I’m kinda jealous, though. It’s been so long since I went somewhere other than here. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been somewhere else.”
Brows furrowed, he tries to remember the last time he travelled. Withal, he comes up short, the melancholy of missing memories staining his voice. “I’ve been nowhere except here. Chained.”
“This place clearly is your home, that’s why it’s keeping you here. It knows you belong here and I’m glad you’ve remained.”
He lets out a breathless laugh which oddly holds the middle between a growl and a giggle. “I’m happy you showed up at my doorstep, then. But, the cottage you’ll be moving to... it’d- it’d be nice if I could make that my home too.’’ His cheeks grow pink like rose petals. ‘’Well, maybe not literally, but it would be nice if it would become our little somewhere.”
“Our little somewhere,” I repeat, charmed by the sound of it.
“Our home. Well, concretely speaking. Abstractly, and most importantly, you are my home.’’ He gets up to move to my side, where he crouches at my feet. Foreheads rested against each other, he easily nips at my nose and nuzzles it affectionately with his. ‘’You are what breaks the silence, makes me able to hope for better days.”
“The same goes for you because even though you sometimes still intimidate and freak me out a little bit, you make my days more interesting than they have been in years. So, thank you. For being here, spending your time in my company.”
“Thank you for the same reasons. Now,” JB leans away to get up and starts to clear the dishes, “how about dessert?”
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Before either of us is aware of it, the clock on the wall notes it’s already ten past eight when we finish off the homemade cheesecake. Naturally, partially to also do my fair share, I stand up from my chair before the big wolf man does in an attempt to clear the table and do the dishes. However, when I’m about to walk to the kitchen with them, Jaebeom unapologetically takes them from my hands.
“What’re-? JB, you don’t have to do everything! Let me at least do the dishes.” Flattered yet a tad annoyed by the kindness, and poorly conveying my appreciation, I protest in a harsher tone than I intended to use.
Fortunately, though also a bit comically, he remains unperturbed. Notwithstanding, an unyielding sternness underlines his voice when he responds. “You’ve had a long journey, so sit down and relax. I’ll be right with you after cleaning up.”
Henceforth, unable to protest and rendered comatose by the delicious food, I plop down on the couch. Nestled into the corner, I have a proper view of the man who’s claimed my kitchen for himself.
Although it’s an intrusion to a certain degree, it’s quite soothing to watch Jaebeom defy classic gender roles. Contently humming a song and barely shy of skipping, he cleans up the mess with a tea towel tucked into the side of his pants. 
When he’s done, he hangs the tea towel over the stove’s handle, washes his hands, and settles down next to me. On a whim, though it’s maybe because of instinct, I get up from my little corner and nestle against him. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer as I drape my leg over his thigh to get into a more comfortable position.
Situated snugly in his safe presence, I close my eyes and sigh in pure content. “Can you stay here tonight?”
“Are you sure? Don’t you want to be alone and rest?” he murmurs into my hair.
“I can recharge with you. Besides, you’re nice and warm.” I snuggle up to him more, basking in the mixture of wild wood and cologne. “A perfect pillow.”
He pulls me on his lap, wraps his arms around my body and pulls me flush against his chest, which feels sculpted but not hard with muscle. Abs are nice and all, but I prefer the softness of a defined though not hardened chest. 
“If it brings you rest,” he curls his finger under my chin and lifts it, compelling me to look at him, “I’ll stay.”
I run my fingers along his jaw and up to his ear, immediately reducing him to the puppy-like state he tends to get into apparently when being touched like this. “Thank you.”
“My pl- pleasure.” What would have been a normal response is lost in a growl when I accidentally brush against his crotch as I shift my weight and sit up a little.
His eyes snap open, the hazelnut brown and ocean blue irises darkened, devoid of any sense of their former satisfied tenderness. With his thumb he traces the outline of my lips, lowly purring. “Pretty.”
“Jaebeom,” I place my hands on his shoulders, maintaining a bit of distance between us. We shouldn’t rush this, but the sensation of his growing bulge against my thigh, throbbing against the inside of it, convolutes every thought. Somehow, his scent seems to have gotten stronger too, overwhelming me with the same clear message the firm grip on my hips has. 
I don’t push him back as he leans in, bridging the emptiness I initiated. Foreheads rested against each other and his calloused hands on my cheeks, he guesses what’s essentially withholding me. “Scared?”
“A bit,” I whimper against his palm, the words muffled by the rough warm skin.
“It’s me, Y/N. I won’t hurt you.” Feverish yet sweetly with persuasive conviction, he kisses me. “I’m your gentleman, your boyfriend.”
“I’m afraid it’ll hurt. That we’re going too fast.”
“We’re not. I want this. I want more of you. With you. But,’’ lips pulled into a straight line, he clears his throat while looking as if he is restraining a wild beast that can easily get the better of him if he lets go, ‘’I’ll leave it up to you.”
So, what you’re asking is… 
Jaebeom takes a deep breath to regain his composure, though it has little effect. His breathing remains heavy, close to panting. Nevertheless, the gentle stars return to his eyes as the strained expression softens. “Will you have me?”
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queen-ofsunflowers · 4 years ago
Text
DadWorth AU: Part 3 (Justice For All)
Justice for All has to be one of the angstier parts of this AU, right up there with some ideas I have for Apollo Justice. Especially considering the whole Miles “chooses death” thing. So, let’s dive into it!
< Part 2 | Part 4 >
Reunion, and Turnabout
Things fast forward a couple of months after the end of Rise from the Ashes. Gumshoe’s been taking care of Kay since Miles kind of fucked off. He’s been doing his best, and so are Sebastian and Klavier -- who have been trying to cheer up their third musketeer ever since they found out what happened. But Kay is miserable.
So, now summer break is here for her, Gumshoe decides to take her out to the mountains for the day to get out in nature and hopefully get her mind off of things. Even if it is for a little while.
However, that plan is totally ruined when he gets a call about a murder nearby. He’s the only detective in the area, so they have to go down to Kurain Village to check it out. And that’s where they run into Phoenix for the first time since the end of Rise. Both he and Kay are not doing well in the aftermath of that case, and neither are really sure what to do around each other. Needless to say, the whole interaction is awkward.
Gumshoe does not pick up on this. He asks Phoenix if he could keep an eye on Kay while he takes care of the investigation. After some hesitation and deliberation, Phoenix agrees. So Kay becomes his partner button and Phoenix finally get to interact one-on-one with each other during the investigation for Reunion.
This is the first time they get to do this, since they were either with Maya or Ema on previous cases. It’s still a bit awkward, but when Phoenix finds out that she’s studying to be a defense attorney, things get a little bit easier as they find common ground.
Phoenix unknowingly starting to settle into a mentor role? Yes.
Kay is super turned off by Morgan Fey (getting chills up her spine and a faint memory of Dahlia Hawthorne -- she saw the Fawles trial. Phoenix also gets the same vibes from her.) And is surprisingly good with Pearl.
Her reaction to learning that Franziska is the prosecutor for this case catches Phoenix’s attention. Kay hasn’t heard from Franziska outside of a few text messages to check in on her over the past few months, so the fact that she’s in the country and Kay’s only finding out about it now makes her wonder what’s going on.
Kay goes to meet with Maya at the detention center with Phoenix, and kind of gets overly excited when she sees that Maya is channeling Mia because if you remember, she looked up Mia. Mia was an idol for her. So getting to meet her -- even if it is through spirit channeling -- is the highlight of her week.
And then we get to the trial. Phoenix asks Kay if she wants to stand co-counsel and Kay immediately jumps at the chance to say yes. So this is technically her first trial (she’s excited for it, but a little bit sad that Miles isn’t there to see her). Franziska, on the other hand, is surprised that Kay is standing at the defense’s bench with Phoenix Wright, leading to a lot of things including seeing Kay as a traitor (reason why will be explained later.)
So, Kay stands in for Pearl as co-counsel. As a result, her spirit channeling abilities are not revealed until much later. In the second trial day, she’s not present due to Gumshoe’s intervention and keeping her busy (something which Pearl agrees to so long as Kay and Phoenix get Maya a Not Guilty).
The investigation moments are full of small bonding moments between Phoenix and Kay as they get to know each other a bit better.
So, Team Wright-Faraday get a Not Guilty verdict as promised. Kay’s super proud of herself for managing to do this and it puts her on cloud nine. Franziska only believes that Phoenix won because he had a semi-competent co-counsel with him (Aunt Fran starting to show that she’s proud of Kay a little bit, but is still incredibly pissed that she lost.) Overall, she isn’t sure how to feel about Kay in that moment, and it all comes down to one simple reason:
This is the first time Kay has smiled in months. Everyone who knows her is relieved to see it back.
After the case is closed, Maya does thank Kay for helping and Kay in return does try to cheer her up after the whole “morgan stabbed maya in the back” thing starts to settle in. Am I saying Maya and Kay friendship? Maya and Kay friendship. It starts here.
So, things are starting to look a little bit better for Kay.
The Lost Turnabout
It’s not... Kay’s not involved in this one. Teenage shenanigans happen here as the new school year at Themis starts up.
The first day of school is always pretty easy, but it gets pretty depressing for Kay when one of her professors decides a good idea to break the ice by talking about some of the more ridiculous things that have happened in court cases. It gets the class laughing, and isn’t a bad idea...
Unfortunately for Kay, though, the professor also brings up a certain defense attorney cross-examining a parrot. The memory of that trial brings up a whole lot of feelings for Kay and she just kind of falls quiet for the rest of the day.
But luckily, Klavier and Sebastian have known Kay for a year now, and they realize something’s wrong. So they (primarily Klavier, since he instigates the whole thing) decide to do something about it and distract her. Here is where teenage shenanigans come about.
Just wholesome fun with what is slowly becoming a favorite chaotic trio that ends with everyone collapsed on a couch with an old movie playing in the background. ...and possibly a few appearances from other characters. Who knows?
Kay only finds out about Phoenix’s trial after the fact from Maya, and she’s not sure whether to be impressed that Phoenix managed to do all that with amnesia or laugh about it. She decides to do both.
Turnabout Big Top
It all starts with Phoenix going from ace attorney to ace babysitter as he’s in charge of four teenagers and one small child. Over the past few months, he’s gotten acquainted with Klavier and Sebastian as well, especially after the trio used the Wright & Co. Law Offices as their own personal hangout spot to get homework done and hide out when needed (thank you Kay).
The only reason Kay is brought on as co-counsel for this case is because a: its winter break so she doesn’t have school to worry about and b: the time frame is the same as when Miles was arrested the year prior. If Phoenix is having a rough time, then so is Kay. Especially since this will also be her first birthday since the whole incident. She’s also at Wright & Co. for the same reason when Maya calls up with the case.
This case is not the best distraction for Kay, but at least its something. Lesson learned: as a lawyer, you gotta take the good with the frustrating. Things get worse with Franziska prosecuting again. Kay still doesn’t get what’s up with her and why she’s still getting called a traitor.
The boys are also in on this case because why not, though they don’t stand as co-counsel but rather just help with the investigation. Because we all know that Kristoph and Blaise wouldn’t agree to them standing on the defense’s side, one more than the other.
Kay openly admitting to getting a headache while trying to figure out what the heck is actually going on during the first trial day. She grew up with the Master of Logic himself, so trying to make sense of this without all the information is making her head run in circles. But she’s not going to give up.
It’s revealed when Franziska confronts Phoenix & Co. outside of the lodging house later that day that the reason Franziska calls Kay a traitor is that she deliberately is siding with the man responsible for Miles’s “death”, something that she never thought Kay would do.
Kay never blames Phoenix for what happened to Miles. She mostly blames Gant (and von Karma somewhat) for it. They were the ones who pushed him, not Phoenix. So, when Franziska openly blames Phoenix for what happened, Kay gets pretty pissed. 
When Phoenix and Maya continue their investigation, Kay goes to confront Franziska on that matter and just goes off. Months of bottled up emotions just kind of explode outward, and Franziska is the unfortunate target of it all. This blow-up is also the first time that Kay refers to Miles as her dad. Which hits pretty hard. Franziska starts regretting a few choices she’s made today. Klavier and Sebastian pull her away as she starts to break down.
So they just... let her cry it out in the circus’s cafeteria. They end up being the ones who find out about the incident with the lion (once Kay’s calmed down) rather that Phoenix and Maya. The story has them racing over to them, catching the duo just as they’re about to enter Acro’s room and things go about pretty much the same way they do canonically from there.
The next day is a bit hard, and its easy to pick up on the tension between Kay and Franziska here. Taking a page out of the anime, Kay, Klavier, a reluctant Sebastian and Maya recreating the crime for the entire court. She does feel bad about having to indict Acro, though, due to the circumstances surrounding everything.
Kay does a pretty good job, something which Gumshoe relays as a message to her, at the end of the trial, much to her surprise. Who else would be proud of her is something that she wants to know.
Meanwhile, Miles Edgeworth wonders how he’s going to tell his daughter that he’s still alive upon his return to the country. (and yes, he was the one who told gumshoe to tell kay that he was proud of her)
Farewell, My Turnabout
So, Kay at this point still doesn’t know that Miles is alive. He wants to get everything settled before he makes any grand reveals to anyone. He’s also still trying to figure out how to do it since that wasn’t supposed to happen. Kay wasn’t supposed to think he was dead. He told her that he was leaving, sure, but Kay was also half-asleep when he did. So, misunderstandings~
Meanwhile, Phoenix takes the girls (Maya, Pearl and Kay) to the Hero of Heroes Grand Prix. Kay’s gotten decently close to the members of Wright & Co. over the past few months, that much is clear by now.
Kay gets upset about Corrida’s murder because ya know. Jammin’ Ninja fan. She hopes that Engrade gets locked away for doing it. Maya thinks she just doesn’t like the Nickel Samurai, which isn’t that far off. Kay just doesn’t like Engarde thanks to reading Klavier’s tabloid magazines. She never gets to explain the contents of those magazines, though. Phoenix finds out about them later.
Things take a sharp turn when Maya is called to the front desk to answer her “call”. Kay goes with Maya because ya know. Buddy system. (”girls don’t let each other go anywhere alone, nick!” “*sigh* i will never understand teenagers...”)  i think. you know. where this about to go--
So, yeah. Kay gets kidnapped alongside Maya. She puts up a pretty decent fight against de Killer (look at the people she was around growing up, Kay probably does know a little self-defense), but in the end, she still gets ‘napped. And so, Phoenix has to defend Engarde or the two girls will “disappear”.
Things are made worse, as Phoenix is accosted by two teenage boys who can’t get in touch with their third musketeer who didn’t show up for school that day. He’s just trying to do his job, but Klavier and Sebastian are really stubborn and will not leave him alone.
And everything gets worse when Miles makes his grand revival. And then is made the prosecutor for this case. So, Phoenix is not having a very good week at all.
Phoenix and Gumshoe are doing the best to keep the fact that the girls are being held hostage from Edgeworth and the boys. Emphasis on try. All three know that there’s something going on, but they can’t figure out what.
Meanwhile, Kay and Maya are in a wine cellar. Kay has tried several times to break down the door, but it hasn’t worked. de Killer took their phones, so they have no way of contacting the outside. They’re screwed unless they can escape.
Maya realizes that they do have a way to contact the outside and uses her spirit channeling powers to contact Mia, and with Kay’s help manages to explain what’s going on and giving a message to Mia to give to Phoenix.
So, Pearl finally reveals her spirit channeling powers. It freaks Phoenix out at first, but he gets over it quickly because at this point, he’s kind of used to Fey Family Weirdness.
The first part of the trial goes on as pretty much the same as it did before. Afterwards, Phoenix does his best to keep the fact that the girls are kidnapped from Miles because he’s gonna flip the fuck out. And he fails. And Miles kind of does flip out.
So, de Killer and Engarde (more so de Killer because he did his research, he knows the connection with Kay that Edgeworth has) have two pawns to work with and dangle over both the prosecution and defense. And now Edgeworth has two assistants on his side: Sebastian and Klavier, who don’t want to see Kay hurt. However, as future prosecutors, they can’t do much to help Phoenix. So, they help out with the investigation (and using the excuse as this being extra credit for anyone who asks why there are two teenagers here.)
On the other side, Maya and Kay break out of the room they were locked in thanks to a card Maya finds. Things go about as well as they do canonically, but with more struggle. Kay makes a fucking mess trying to defend herself and Maya from de Killer, which will later show the police that something definitely went down here (and concerning the heck out of a good handful of people in the process).
Kay may not know the truth about the Yatagarasu yet, but she sure is acting like the Yatagarasu.
The investigation goes about as well as you expect it to. Klavier and Sebastian are doing their best, but they can’t do much since they’re still only students. And Miles is worried as hell for Kay and ends up wanting to tear Engarde apart. Klavier is right to not like Engarde, as was Kay earlier.
When the trial starts up again, you have both the prosecution, the defense and a few members of the gallery nervous as hell. Gumshoe is doing his best to find the girls, but Miles and Phoenix still need to stall for time.
They do their best, but things are going about as well as they do canonically with Edgeworth being more on edge due to Kay being in danger. And the last time he saw her was when he left. So, he wants to be able to reconcile with her.
Things go on much like they do in canon. The note, Gumshoe’s accident, etc. Mia’s with Kay, doing her best to help, but she’s not sure what more she can do because the girls are weak and tired from being held captive for so long.
More worry on both parts.
When de Killer threatens to kill Maya and Kay when Edgeworth and Phoenix press him and try to get more time, Miles is also there to beg him to leave them alone. This is also the first time that Miles openly refers to Kay as his daughter.
Not much is different there out. They manage to expose Engarde as the asshole that he is, the girls are released and Engarde is declared guilty.
The scene with Franziska at the airport and Phoenix giving Miles the whip takes place a bit earlier, as that’s where Miles goes first before going to meet with Kay. Because he’s still trying to figure out how he’s going to talk to Kay again.
Phoenix and the others meet Maya and Kay at the hospital (Kay and Maya were held captive without much food or water for about three days, and Kay has a few minor injuries from de Killer, so they do need medical attention). Maya has a tearful reunion with Mia (as channeled by Pearl), and Kay gets tackled by her friends on both sides.
And then Miles Edgeworth walks into the room a short while later and Kay does not know what to say. She thought that he was dead for over a year, and a lot of things start bubbling to the surface. She starts tearing up because she thought she would never see Miles again, and he with her.
As soon as he gets close enough, Kay hugs him and calls him stupid in a couple different ways. Miles accepts it and apologizes for making her worry. He promises not to vanish like that again, and returns the promise that Kay made in part 2: to not keep secrets from her again.
So, what they didn’t get at the end of part 2, Miles and Kay finally get at the end of JfA: a chance to actually rebuild and reconcile their relationship without anything getting in the way.
So Justice for All ends on a pretty good note.
That may be the end of Justice for All, but it’s not the end of the story. There are still more ripples to come and fun shenanigans.
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transbuckaroo · 3 years ago
Text
pain, applause
hello. my name is andrew, and i wrote a short lambden fic a few days ago. this will be based on the “following the thread” quest from “the witcher 3: wild hunt” developed by cd projekt red. the characters are based on dev patel as sir gawain in the 2021 film “the green knight” as directed by david lowery, and paul bullion in the upcoming 2021 seaon 2 of “the witcher” as directed by stephen surjik. i haven’t written very much these past two or three years, but i am proud of this finished product. please keep any comments/criticisms kind. thank you, enjoy!
_________
The moment Aiden realized how well and truly fucked him and Baby Steadfast were, he was already surrounded on all sides. He could sense them. His medallion hummed gently against his chest with the signal of danger with every step he took. If he could get out of this clearing, he thought, just into the tree line to stay hidden. It wasn’t far; he could make it, just keep going. The Cat kept his hand at the ready to make quick work of grabbing his battle axe and kept his breaths even as he walked. Aiden knew what was waiting for him. It seemed the fox did as well. Always intuitive, the little one.
Jad Karadin came out of the trees in front of him like a shadow from an alley, looming and dagger drawn in his right hand. Aiden slowed his pace, too exposed, ears picking up the slide of multiple steel swords off to the left. Then two figures emerged from behind Jad, appearing as if they had come directly from within his body. Lund first, after came Hammond. Baby laid back his ears flat, centering himself lower to the ground in a defensive position. He placed himself between the three and Aiden as he went.
There was no running from them. These people were never meant to be his enemies; Jad was supposed to be his brother especially. If anyone here was supposed to be on his side more than anyone, it was Jad. An elder Cat, someone Aiden was supposed to be able to look up to as a mentor. Jad had broken the mold. Had children, a wife, a life away from being a Witcher. Beyond it. He had proof that there was more.
These things didn’t matter anymore. Whoever Jad Karadin was supposed to be was pointless now. Because he was an evil man today. He and whoever else followed him here.
Aiden drew his axe, pulling a deep and centering breath as he went. There were more of this group, hiding somewhere in the thick of trees, awaiting their moment. This was only to end one of two ways. There would be no other option besides these. For a split second, Aiden found himself missing the presence of a certain Wolf over his right shoulder.
Lambert. Lambert wouldn’t let him get hurt. He would protect Aiden here and now, and the Cat wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. In fact, Lambert would have already drawn his sword and made a calculated advancement on their enemy. He would have won, too, because Aiden has never seen him fail a task when he gets that crease between his brows as they furrow in his determination. Lambert, with his fiery curls and attitude to match. Lambert, with his impossible wit and unrelenting promises made to Aiden that have never broken. Lambert, the little brother of Kaer Morhen, baby of the lot of them.
Lambert, who Aiden swore to see back in the valley in Kaedwen where the Buina and Gwenllech rivers part in Daevon so them and Baby Steadfast could finally make the trek up to Kaer Morhen together.
The heat in between Aiden’s shoulder blades told him he wasn’t going to make it up to the keep this year.
“Aiden,” Jad spoke, knuckles white around the hilt of his dagger. Aiden snapped back into focus. He didn’t even dare to blink. “You know why I’ve come?”
“I didn’t kill the Duke’s daughter. I couldn’t save her. I tried.” The contract Aiden had held just months ago in the start of spring. A young girl, cursed, incurable despite the Duke’s pleads and Aiden’s best attempts to reverse it. She had succumbed to her circumstances. Aiden was paid for his efforts, bowed his head with sorrow as the Duke grieved, and went on his way.
“I’ve come to hear otherwise. You’ve botched it, boy. People are angry with the results of your work and lack thereof. You fucked up, and you’ve not shite to say for it.”
“I didn’t botch anything, I did my job. Not everyone gets a happy ending, Karadin. You’re a Cat. A Witcher. You should know.”
To be completely honest, Aiden hadn’t a goddamnable clue how he was going to get through this. Maybe he could take them. Most rivals don’t tend to waste time talking through events, let alone listen to their target. This time, maybe this time, Aiden could walk away with a mere banishment from the city. Possibly, hopefully, he could meet Lambert in time in the valley.
“You’re right,” said Jad, some semblance of resignation on his face. It wasn’t real, his tone sounded fabricated. “Aiden. Not everyone gets a happy ending.”
The arrow came right in that moment, whizzing through the air and lodging itself into the ground by Aiden’s left foot. He startled, stepped back, whipping his head around to try and follow its trajectory. Someone was up high. Someone was in the trees. Jad brought a sniper with him. Of course he did. Oh, of course that motherfucker did. This horrid, abomination of a man. The tree line was too dense, impossible to know where in the leaves the arrow came from where Aiden was standing in the field. He had only tried to look for a moment though before the sound of running footsteps came too close for comfort. And fuck, he could only gain so much momentum with his axe from this angle but he had to try.
Aiden spun back around on his heel, hands braced on either end of the hilt of his axe, prioritizing blocking the blow and creating distance before landing a strike of his own. Jad was successfully pushed back at the chest. Sent fumbling backwards to regain his footing. He growled in anger at the same time Aiden swung at his accompanying attackers, just barely missing them with the blade of his weapon. Steel struck and sounded a metal clang through the clearing. Aiden grunted with the effort of three-and-a-sniper against one, swinging his axe to catch a sword under the head and vaulting his enemy away. Distance was vital, energy was crucial to use sparingly.
“Baby!” He shouted towards his fox, whom of which was bee-lining for the trees where the arrow had come. “No! Run home! Home! Go home!”
It was something they’d agreed upon once. Home. They knew what home was, who home was. Where home was. The valley. Lambert. The point they meet and part at every year, the small town the Wolves have passed through many times in prior years. It was an easy place to go. That was where they found home, him and Baby. Lambert was home. Baby Steadfast knew this command well and clear as day. Go home. Go find Lambert; he’ll know what it means for the fox to show up without the company of his Cat Witcher. He’ll spring into action.
All it took was one incorrect turn, expose just a little too much of something or other, at just the right moment. It wasn’t because he’d called out to Baby; he knew how to give direction without faltering in his task. It was fucked luck. Terrible, awful, shit luck. All he did was avoid another two arrows in the ground, one grazing his cloak as it went.
Jad caught him in his right side with his dagger, blade plunging in deep and ripping a pained and surprised shout from Aiden’s throat. All the way in and right back out. Aiden staggered, snarled, and lunged at the man in front of him. Jad was a monster on this day, and Witchers know damn well to dispose of those. His side was on fire. The younger Cat swung, but Jad ducked underneath the blade. As Aiden turned with the momentum, one of the others kicked a boot into his chest and sent him backwards into Karadin’s grasp. The dagger entered the same area as before as Jad grappled an arm around Aiden’s throat. He was stuck. He was bleeding horribly. Baby Steadfast had gone to get Lambert. There was no way they would find one another in time.
With a strong shove from the man behind him, the dagger dislodged, and in the same moment whoever was at his left ripped his axe out of his hands. Aiden tried to spin around to face them as he propelled forward, but only managed to end up on his back on the grass. It was still cold with morning dew. Aiden could see the fog of his breath as he fell.
And in the most startling of realizations as Jad came to kneel over him, Aiden realized he was going to die. Without Baby. Without his dignity. Without Lambert. Without telling Lambert how much he truly and purely loved him.
He thought he had more time. Had it all planned out. They would meet in three weeks hence, and the night before they would make the ascent to the keep for the winter, Aiden would tell Lambert that he loved him in their room. This incredible, selfless, beautiful Wolf. Part of him even believed Lambert might say it back. He would feel the same. They were just like comfortable lovers already, what with the way they shared beds and blankets and curled up in the night to sleep, the way they helped wash and put up one another’s hair, cooked for each other, looked out for each other, lost all sense of personal space with each other. Melitele, the two of them even refused to separate their bedrolls while they camped out during their travels. They called each other “pup” and “kitten” respectively, dressed wounds, mended clothes and armor, cleaned weapons, hunted together, laughed and smiled and hugged and shared stories. Oh, Lambert was beautiful. Of course Aiden was in love with him. To expect anything else were a fool’s game.
“Oh, kitty cat,” he heard from above, and focused his eyes on Jad. The coldness of his gaze, so detached and unaffected. The only indication he’d ever been in a fight at all was the way his chest pulled bigger breaths than before. “Don’t go and cry now, will ye? This is just the natural order of things.”
Oh, Gods above, Aiden was crying. Silent little tears slipping free from the corners of his eyes, sliding down into his hair that lay fanned out in the grass below. Without dignity indeed. Wounds screaming in white-hot pain, vision blurring with tears that he could not control, heart aching, voice beyond him.
“Please,” the younger Cat spoke in a soft, quivering voice. He blinked hard once, twice, willing the tears away. They did not relent.
“Please.” He was being mocked. Then someone spat from out of his sight right into his hair. It smelled of salmon and tobacco. This time Jad’s dagger entered slowly, and new hot tears fell from Aiden’s eyes with the hurt of it, hand coming to grab his wrist in a feeble attempt to stop him. It did nothing. If anything it encouraged the man.
Aiden couldn’t grant him the final victory of looking away from Karadin’s eyes. Even as the blade ripped out of his body once more. Karadin spoke again. “You beg me to spare your life. Your pathetic little life. Insignificant, worthless, liar’s life. You were never going to change; your batch was doomed from the start. Your death is hardly any repayment, but it is the best we can do to provide peace and closure for the Duke and his people. A life for a life. It is but the way of the world, Aiden. Certainly you understand.”
Oh, he understood. A life for a life was the most polite way to speak of revenge. Talk of debts and dues, exchanges of wins and losses. A life for a life meant a day of reckoning to come. Lambert, kind as Aiden ever saw him, would cash this in as quickly and mercilessly as he could. He was coming no matter what. If he was unable to save Aiden now, he as sure as all things was going to tear apart whoever hurt him. What a gorgeous soul he was.
The fourth and final stab, a telling sign of Karadin’s assassinations. Aiden couldn’t fight it this time. A cluster of wounds just under the right side of someone’s ribs, always in four, always fatal. Aiden choked out a cry of searing agony, feeling the blade twist inside of him with force, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw so tightly he should have broken a few teeth. It twisted again as it was taken out, and all Aiden could do was let the fat tears roll as it happened. He felt Jad grab his medallion from under his shirt and opened his eyes as it was ripped off his neck and placed into a pouch at Karadin’s hip. Proof of death. The easiest form of it, but still worth enough to get paid. Hired by anyone associated closely with a Duke, Jad was sure to be rewarded handsomely for his work.
“Now,” spoke Jad. Aiden’s eyes were starting to get heavy, chest heaving, vision spotting behind the blur of tears. “You’ll be gone in moments, boy. A few minutes and this will be over. The pain will dull just prior, don’t fret. I will not seek out your fox nor that Wolf you travel with, but should they come I will be ready. Goodnight, Aiden. Sleep well.”
Then Jad started to walk away. Hammond and Lund went with him. Aiden could only lay there in the grass, sending his apologies to Baby and Lambert skyward and hope they would understand. He never meant for this to happen. If there hadn’t been that damned sniper, then maybe he could have taken them. But there was no time to dwell now. Darkness crept in, and Aiden’s breathing slowed, and it went dark once and for all as he bled out. He had failed. He was sorry. He could only imagine how horrifically pathetic he appeared. Perhaps he could be forgiven in time by his fox and his Wolf for never coming home.
In some months, when the snow lay thick on the ground, white and untouched blanketing where grass once resided, there would be the choking gasp of a man within the Brokilon Forest. Waking from a healing sleep induced by an old magic, cast by resident Dryads within the cover of trees that towered above. Known by many as the forest of death, breathing life back into someone who simply had not been due to die.
“Sir Witcher Aiden,” said a calming voice, a person standing kindly to the side. Her palm lay gently at the crown of his head, soothing. “We welcome you back to the living world. It has been some time.”
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nalgenewhore · 4 years ago
Text
dream of me
rowan x lorcan, regency era au, word count: 1963
Rowan is not surprised when a battered, bloodied hand appears on his windowsill. 
He calmly stands from his reading chair and puts the leather-bound tome on the small end table. A candle burns steadily in its wrought holder, wax beads melting down it. Rowan picks it up and carries it with him as he walks. 
A large body pushes itself up and heaves itself over the ledge. Lorcan’s hair is falling from the sloppy bun he’s shoved it into. The dark strands cling to his temples and the sides of his cheeks, raindrops falling down his face as it splits into a golden type of grin, “Evening, pretty boy.” 
“Do you not know how to tell time, Lorcan?” Rowan asks casually. “It’s far past evening.” 
A slight groan leaves Lorcan’s lips as he swings his leg over the windowsill and nimbly lands on the spot of hardwood before the thick carpet. Rowan used to have the carpet flush with the wall, but when Lorcan’s midnight drop-ins became frequent, Rowan quickly became tired of him trailing mud on it, so he moved the carpet for Lorcan to have a designated area. 
Rowan sees the way Lorcan leans to the side and the way his arm is loosely wrapped around his waist. He sighs through his nose and waves the other boy to his bed, “Sit down. I’ll take care of those ribs.” 
“There’s nothing-” Lorcan hisses through his teeth, “-nothing wrong with my ribs, Whitethorn.” He toes his dirty boots off and limps to the messy bed. The old frame creaks under his weight and Lorcan tries to hide his sigh of relief, but Rowan hears it all the same. 
“Your clothes are soaking, Lorcan. You should change before you catch a cold,” Rowan says, refusing to look at Lorcan. The young duke abhors the fact that his pale cheeks blush, giving himself away at the thought of a shirtless Lorcan. Rowan busies himself by gathering the necessary medical fixings for Lorcan’s injuries. 
It must’ve gone wrong, he thinks. Lorcan spends his nights breaking into the rich’s homes, stealing whatever he can. For a few weeks, he lets the town have its little fit and then, he offers his deductive skills to unearth whichever priceless treasure he’s kept hidden away. 
They pay handsomely for his services. It humours Rowan, to keep his mouth shut and laugh quietly at them all. From the moment Lorcan emerged as the city’s up and coming investigator, Rowan knew there was something the young man hadn’t told them. And his suspicions had been confirmed on that fateful night, when Lorcan had mistaken the Whitethorn residence for the Havilliard’s. That night, he pushed Rowan up against the bookcase in the library, a wicked dagger at his throat. His wild eyes searched Rowan’s until they calmed and he stepped back. I know you won’t tell anyone, Master Whitethorn. Keep this between us, will you?
Obviously, Rowan agreed, though he made Lorcan swear to him that the Whitethorn mansion would never be a target. He added that Lorcan would come to him for help, whenever he so needed it, and Lorcan had done so ever since. 
“Rowan. Rowan. Rowan,” Lorcan says, waving his hand in Rowan’s face. “Are you alright? Are you tired?” 
“Of course I am tired, Lorcan,” Rowan snaps, tersely putting down the gauze and soft cloths. “I am made to wait up for you every night and patch you up, only to have you ruin my work the night after!” 
The thief’s dark eyes widen and when he opens his mouth to respond, nothing comes out. Rowan stares at him for a moment, willing his gaze to stay on Lorcan’s face and not notice the way his loose cotton shirt sticks to the chiseled planes of his chest from the rain. 
When he still does not speak, Rowan scoffs and picks up the wooden bowl. “I’ve got to fetch some hot water. Do not move.” He stalks into his bathing chamber, where he’s kept a bucket of boiled water. He boiled it earlier in the evening, meaning it was the perfect temperature after it sat for a few hours. 
Rowan’s frown does not fade as he fills the bowl and puts the cotton cloths into the steaming water. He carries it back with him and sees Lorcan carefully pulling his shirt off. His entire left side, from hip to shoulder, is covered by dark purple and violent red bruising. Rowan’s breath hitches in his throat and he forgets that he is angry with Lorcan. 
He rushes to the bed and puts the water bowl down, his hands light over Lorcan’s tender body. Despite the delicateness with which Rowan treats him, Lorcan still bites his lip to muffle the sound of his groan and his eyes screw shut. 
Lorcan pants, “Are you going to help me or continue to prod me, Whitethorn. I’ve- fuck, I’ve broken them.” The skin above his heart tap-taps with its frantic beat. 
“If you wish to be rude and uncooperative, you are free to leave,” Rowan says drily. He picks up the strips of gauze, “Lift your arms. Your ribs need wrapping.” Lorcan complies, groaning again when the motion causes him pain. “Would you stand, too?” 
Again, Lorcan does as he’s told. He stands between Rowan’s spread legs, probably closer than is necessary or considered appropriate. Rowan doesn’t mind. In fact, he would like Lorcan closer, would like their bodies pressed together, would like to know if they fit as well as he thinks they do. 
Neither speaks as Rowan snugly wraps the gauze around Lorcan’s middle. He doesn’t do it too tightly, knowing that if Lorcan cannot breathe normally, his lungs could catch an infection, like pneumonia. “What happened tonight, Lorcan?” 
“I learned that the Perringtons had left for a month and broke in for the skull of Erawan,” Lorcan says, his voice low, nearly too quiet to be heard above the soothing pitter-patter of rain. “They came back early, just two days ago. Apparently Adarlan is not agreeable this time of year.” 
Rowan snorts and tucks the ends of the bandage away. “What a shame.” He stands and gasps softly when he becomes near nose-to-nose with Lorcan. He’s so close he can differentiate the browns and onyxes in Lorcan’s depthless irises. 
They share a breath for a moment, Lorcan’s full lips so close to ghosting over Rowan’s. “You- you should s-sit,” Rowan stammers out, that same damned blush blooming across his cheekbones. “Rest, you have been injured.”
Lorcan nods, silent, and lifts his hand to tuck a curl of Rowan’s light hair behind his ear, “Yes.” 
Rowan moves so that Lorcan can sit again. He takes the spot next to Lorcan, and tucks a leg beneath him so he can face Lorcan. They all but refuse to speak as Rowan cleans the wounds on Lorcan’s face, his heart splintering at the long cut, indicative of a knife, slashing down Lorcan’s face. He breathes tremulously, his fingers shaking.
Rowan tenderly takes care of Lorcan's wounds and is powerless to stop the tears from lining his eyes. He hates this, seeing the boy his heart and soul belong to, so battered and bruised. So hurt, he can hardly breathe without pain. 
Every night, it becomes more difficult to stand. He wishes every morning that he does not see Lorcan again, that he’s left, run away to the countryside like he once drunkenly admitted to dreaming of, without a note or a farewell. It’s a foolish hope of Rowan’s, really, but he’d rather be foolish than face reality. 
“You are crying,” Lorcan notes. Rowan realises his cheeks are wet with tears. “Why are you crying, Rowan?” 
Surely he must be joking, Rowan thinks. Surely no one is that dense. Surely Lorcan knows it’s all for him. “You are playing a trick on me,” Rowan says, dumbfounded. “You truly cannot be this stupid, Lorcan.” 
The dark boy frowns, pulling back, “I am not stupid. I want to know why you are crying. It is not you that has been injured. What pain are you feeling?” 
“You are stupid,” Rowan insists, tossing the cloth to the side. “You are the stupidest boy I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing, Lorcan Salvaterre.” 
Lorcan frowns harder, his temper flaring in those eyes of his, the ones Rowan dreams of. “Stop calling me stupid, Rowan. I cannot help you if I do not know what is the matter!” 
Rowan stands, his arms flung out wide, “I hate caring for you! I hate, with a burning passion, caring for you.” 
Hurt flashes across Lorcan’s face and it stays there. Normally, anger would be all too quick to follow, but his grave features remain drenched in agony. “How could- then why- what have I- I do not understand,” Lorcan says, his words shaking. “Why are you saying this to me? Why would you say that to me?”
“Because I hate it when you are hurt, Lorcan,” Rowan spits, too far gone in his rage to notice the beginnings of understanding in Lorcan’s gaze. “I hate it when you climb through my window and I hate it when I have to patch you up and I hate it when you return to the gutter, just to repeat this all over again.” 
“Ro–” 
“You told me you once despised this life. You told me that one day, you would leave and run to the country and never once look back.” Rowan swallows as tears roll down his cheeks. He sits down once more and, with such care and adoration, takes Lorcan’s face in his hands, “I pray for that day to come every night, so I do not have to see the boy I love hurt again.” 
Rowan tips his forehead against Lorcan’s and whispers, “I love you, Lorcan. You… have my heart and my soul and whatever it is that makes me whole. And if you keep-” he chokes for a moment, his eyes falling shut, “-if you keep being hurt and showing up at my window, battered halfway to death, I will shatter into a thousand pieces that can never be put back again.” 
“You love me?” Lorcan asks, his words light with wonderment and golden, golden hope. “You- you love me?” 
“Yes,” Rowan breathes, confessing his most twisted secret. “With all that I am and all that I will ever be, Lorcan.” 
“Ro,” Lorcan murmurs, his hand lifting to the curve of Rowan’s neck. “Rowan, open your eyes. Please… look at me, my darling.” 
Rowan’s hummingbird heart flutters and trips over itself. He’s never been anyone’s darling and how lucky is he, to be Lorcan’s, the only person he will ever love and the only person he will ever tolerate. He opens his eyes, quietly searching Lorcan’s. “What is it,” he asks, barely above a whisper. 
“I have loved you for years,” Lorcan tells him. “There is nothing in this god-forsaken life I want to take with me to the next one, save for you, Rowan. I love you, most ardently.” 
The two boys smile softly at each other, twin spots of pink on their cheeks. It is Rowan who closes the distance between them first, pressing his rosy lips against Lorcan’s mouth and stealing his air. Rowan’s hands slip around Lorcan’s neck as Lorcan pulls him closer, mindless of the hurt in his body that pains at every movement. 
They kiss slowly, they hold each other so closely, like the other is the most precious thing to them, like the other’s love and touch is the only thing they shall need in life. 
And maybe it is. Maybe that’s all they’ve ever needed.
an: they deserve this and i deserve this so i was self indulgent and did what i wanted again <3 enjoy darlings 
@mythicaitt​ @ladyverena​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @ladywitchling​ @darklesmylove​ @shyvioletcat​ @the-regal-warrior​ @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​ @thewayshedreamed​ @sassyhobbits @tswaney17
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peaches-writes · 4 years ago
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there’s nine days left until christmas
skz of christmas day 1: early morning mass with jisung
member: jisung wc: 1.6k genre: fluff, comedy, childhood friends to lovers au (but the lovers part is so tiny), neighbour au warning: explicit language note: this the one time im making church boys skz happen bc it’s kinda funny + i made a rlly corny joke somewhere there but u hav to squint rlly rlly hard
Having to live in the city for almost 350 out of 365 days a year in order to study at university, you’ve naturally come to appreciate the peace and quiet of the countryside you would spend long stretches of holidays at. From the screeching but natural sound of roosters replacing your phone’s alarm clock to the gentle breeze that doesn’t need you to run around in circles a few times to brush past your open arms, you’re always looking forward to staying with your grandparents in a small mountainside village just an hour away from the main road because of all the healing it has to offer.
Well, maybe except small but constant inconvenience in your visits in the form of your neighbor, Han Jisung.
“Ji, I swear I will drag you out of your bed and take you to church in your pajamas if you don’t get up right now.” You threaten the still snoring boy on the bed you’ve been crouching next to for the past five minutes. Slapping his cheek once more, you frantically try and wake him up again by adding, “Han Jisung, get up now! We’re going to be late!”
Like you, Jisung only visits on Christmases and a few weeks at the beginning of each summer. He stays with his own grandparents who live next door to yours which, in hindsight, sounds like it doesn’t give you much reason to be hovering over him at 3:55 AM on a Thursday if not for the fact that when there’s 9 days left before Christmas Day (aka today), your grandparents want to attend the early morning mass in the town proper but the only means of transportation is the shuttle that only comes at 4 AM.
Jisung’s clearly not a morning person, either, so you can see where your problems currently lie.
“Jisung...” You call his name again between gritted teeth now. You’ve pulled the covers, took his extra pillows away, and switched off the electric fan across the room but to no avail—the boy just groaned, whined, and curled up into a ball on his sleeping bag. “Deadass the only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because your grandma promised me rice cakes again if I got you dressed before the shuttle arrives so wake up, you dumbass, or I’ll turn you into the rice cake.”
In front of you, Jisung only rubs his closed eyes and whines even more. “Five more minutes, baby.” He mumbles under his breath, lazily bringing his bare arm up to his face to cover his eyes from the harsh light flickering on the ceiling.
The nickname has you rolling your eyes and smacking his head. In frustration, you then stand up from your position and walk over to his closet, throwing him his clothes. “I’m going to count down to five and if you still haven’t opened your eyes and started changing, I’m calling Minho in from next do—“
The mere mention of your other childhood friend across the street immediately has the boy opening his eyes and throwing the random shirt over his head.
-
“You have drool on your face, dumbass.” You point to Jisung with your index finger, chuckling when he aggressively wipes on the area right next to his bottom lip. “The whole church would smell the morning breath through the speakers.”
“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, sinking into his seat with his acoustic guitar hugged to his chest and a yawn. “What’s taking so long, anyway?”
“The priest who’s supposed to preside had something come up last minute, apparently,” You shrug, flipping through the song book and practicing on the old piano in the mean time. Nearby, both of your grandmas are conversing animatedly with the rest of the choir while your grandfathers have both wandered off somewhere—most likely to the small vendors outside the building. “I’ll give it ten minutes until they get the priest from the next village.”
Jisung groans, finally placing his guitar back on its stand and sitting up properly only to scoot closer to you and rest his head on your shoulder. “I could’ve gotten more sleep at home.”
You immediately shrug him off in response but to no avail. “And who said you can sleep on my shoulder?”
“You woke me up so you take responsibility.” He pouts, linking your arms to hold you in place and adjusting his head on the crook of your neck. “Wake me up when we’re about to start, okay? Goodnight!”
“Ya, Han Jisu—ya!” You tilt your head down to meet his gaze to find his eyes already closed forcibly shut. When you flick his forehead and complain even more, he simply cusses at you and swats your hand away with his free hand. “So that’s how it is...”
“Don’t you dare...”
Moving your hands as close to the piano keys as you can, you then surprise the sleeping boy by practicing on the piano as loudly as you can. Great Amen echoes throughout the entire church, amplified further by the speakers set up near every pew and, naturally, veryone in vicinity jumps in surprise, including your own grandma who drops her fan, Jisung’s grandma who almost topples over in her seat, and even Seungmin who’s supposed to help sacristans this morning with the candles. 
“I hate you so much.” Jisung mumbles with furrowed brows. 
“Then get off my shoulder.” 
“No.” 
“Why are you playing a Bb6? It’s a Gm7.” 
“No, it’s not.” 
You and Jisung squint your eyes at each other as you continue playing through the song anyway. Fortunately, the people sitting in for choir haven’t noticed the small mistakes yet and you’re already halfway through the mass.
“It was a Gm7.” Jisung insists anyway, leaning forward on your piano to look at the handwritten music score properly as he strums his guitar. “Whoever wrote this needs to get their ears checked.”
“You wrote this in last year with Changbin.” You point out, biting down a chuckle. The song then finally finishes and the two of you lean back in your shared seat to wait for the next one. When you look over at the choir where your grandmas have been for the past forty minutes, you see them paying attention to the mass and not at all caring about the two of you arguing. “I’m trying to follow you, dumbass.”
Stubbornly, Jisung scrunches up his nose in denial. “No, I don’t think so? I’d remember if we did.” He defends himself, earning him an eyeroll from you as he then picks up a nearby pencil and writes the ‘correct’ chord on the paper. “Anyway, it’s only the first mass.” 
You’d erase the correction on any other day had your grandma cued you again for another song. Sitting up properly (and making sure you elbow Jisung enough for him to scoot away and give you space to play on the lower keys), you then deadpa, “You don’t even remember anything else you write.” 
“Yes I d—!” Before his tone of voice could rise up higher and disrupt the entire mass, you make sure to push him back from the microphone nearest to his mouth by placing a hand over his face. “Ya!”
Speaking of your other other childhood friend, you and Jisung immediately trail after Changbin once the mass concludes. Stifling your giggles as you try and blend in with the crowd of aunties who are now talking about where they could eat breakfast together and children who’ve just woken up from napping throughout the entire ceremony, you find your target by the rice cake vendors at the church entrance with the same (almost annual) look of distress on his face. 
“Third year in a row.” You whisper to Jisung as the two of you hid in the mini garden right in front of the church. Just a few meters ahead, Changbin is still contemplating on buying the rice cakes. “Do you think he’ll do it this year?”
Next to you, Jisung is quick to shake his head. “Sorry to break it to you, baby, but did you see him back there? He couldn’t even hold the other person’s hand!” He laughs, a hand hovering over his lips to muffle the sound. “I’m pretty sure the rice cakes are gonna take another two years.”
“I did, I saw him! He looked nervous as fuck I felt really bad for him!” You topple over in laughter at this, clasping your hands together. “Ah, Changbin shouldn’t always be hanging out at the rice cake vendors after every mass if he’s not going to buy. He keeps giving them—and us—false hope!”
“Can you believe this guy ditched us to flirt? He can’t even do it properly.” Jisung dramatically scoffs, breaking into another fit of laughs when Changbin walks away from the rice cake vendor at seeing his crush already walking home. “We should ambush him later when we play basketball, ‘no?”
“And you think you can do better?” You quirk an eyebrow teasingly, elbowing Jisung by his side. “Flirt, I mean?” 
“Yeah, totally!” Jisung nods with so much conviction and exaggerated determination in his expression that it makes you laugh again. “Stop doubting my skills, Y/N!” 
“Of course I’d doubt it, you’re all bark and no bite most of the time.” You scrunch up your nose, making his eyes widen and a string of protests to come out of his lips. “What? It’s true!”
“That’s not fair, you only see me on Christmas and summer!” 
“Exactly.” You cross your arms smugly which he squints his eyes at. “So, think you can do better than Seo Changbin, Ji? Prove it!” 
Taking your hand in his, Jisung then pulls you up to a stand and starts dragging you over to the rice cake vendors. “Oh, I will prove it.” He rolls his eyes, even going as far as intertwining your fingers before you could even fully comprehend what’s happening so suddenly. “What color of rice cake do you want, baby? Also, you like cheese on the rice cake, right?” 
-
december 17 (lee felix)
skz of christmas (masterlist)
m.list
@skzwriternet 
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jauneda1 · 3 years ago
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RWBY
The New War Au part 3
Three months after part 2
Jaune and Ren where in Vale shopping for snacks and party stuff for the big party Yang and Coco wanted to throw. Team RWBY and team CFVY had worked together on a HVAG hunt. Jaune wasn't too keen on being a errand boy but atleast him and Ren can talk to each other for once. They haven't really spoken to one another due to Ren being well Ren. It also has to do with a game of drunken spin the bottle thanks to Yang of course.
This is where Nora and Jaune got paired together and instead of taking a shot Jaune just laid one on the ginger bomber. This also lead to drunk and friendship sex something only Jaune, Ren, and Nora know about. Jaune just couldn't handle the silence between the two of them. Since there was a shit ton of traffic they where stuck waiting.
Jaune: So... I know you probably don't want to be here with me rn but were a team. I feel I haven't been a good team leader to-
Ren: Jaune your not about to apologize are you. If it's about you and Nora that night I'm not bothered by that. I know Nora's not good with alcohol, also me and her aren't together- together
Ren: You've been nothing but a good team leader fto us.
Ren: Jaune that was so long ago it doesn't bother me.
Jaune: So then how come you never talk to me. Or come to me for anything?
Ren: Well... Uh how do I put it. I'm still kinda of intimidated by you. That explosion you let off in class and the one after that.
The two finally where able to cross the street.
Ren: You also keep to yourself throughout the weeks only really talking and chilling out with everyone on the weekends.
Ren: I just thought it would be best to steer clear of you.
Jaune: I'm just happy you don't see me as an asshole or something. But I'm sorry you feel that way. Tell you what before we go back and meet up with everyone at the party me and you hang out, my treat okay.
Ren: lol okay sure but no junk food I'm trying to stay in shape.
Jaune: NANI!? You can't do that I live off of my burgers and soda.
Ren: That's why your getting a little heavier I heard you talking with Pyrrha last week you went up like 10pounds.
Jaune: Lol
That's when Jaune noticed that there are a lot of trucks driving past them on the road all black Vans one of them parking in the middle of traffic. Vale is boisterous kingdom there is always someone trying to go some where. So for a van to just stop and hold up traffic is unheard of
Jaune: I don't like this.
Ren: I think it's to early to decide that maybe-
Then without warning a group of six men got out of the van all wearing these bullet proof type vest and Black mask and sporting heaven weapons. Two have Light machine guns while two more have Rifles while the last two didn't have anything they just ran forward while the four men with guns ran the opposite direction.
At this very point Jaune's situational awareness kicked in especially when he realized the men run towards they're direction, not at them but towards the cars and civilians near them. Jaune then instinctively grabbed Ren and with aura in his body and his goal in mind he was gonna get the two of them out of there.
Ren: W-What... J-Jaune
Was the only thing he could say before he realized he was being held and moved away from the ensuing explosion. Those two guys without guns where suicide bombers. They where wearing best with obvious c4 labels bad wrapping. Jaune had got atleast 6 meters or so away from where they were standing that was enough to keep out of the initial explosion, but something else had happened that Jaune didn't see but Ren did. The truck the men got out of exploded as well releasing a thick black miasma that covered the area. Jaune was able to get them away before the miasma got them.
Jaune: Ha ha *out of breath*
Jaune: What the fuck was that, those guys, the explosion, all those people are gone.
Ren: JAUNE, we have to move, we have to call someo-
Just like that the sound of another explosion went off. Then another, and another till there was just sounds of chaos and discord. The two looked at what they could only assume was another cloud of miasma like the one where they are and then they saw it the people caught inside of it where they were would die from the fumes.
Ren: Jaune call somebody,
Jaune: Who the hell do I call right now
Ren: ANYBODY!
Jaune: AND TELL THEM WHAT?!. A terrorist attack is happening what should we do?
Then Jaune's scroll started dinging it was Yang.
Yang: JAU- J- R- Y- O-
His Scroll wasn't getting good reception
Jaune: YANG? YANG YOUR BREAKING UP YANG?! YANG?!
Jaune: Damnit I lost the signal.
Ren: Jaune call your weapons to you I'll do the same
Jaune: No need I've already called both of our ETA 2mins. Since we can't get hold of anyone we'll do what we can to help the civilians.
Jaune: We may be Huntsman but I'm not gonna sit by while innocent people die.
The duo's lockers landed and now they both stand in front of them.
Ren: I completely agree and sorry about earlier.
Jaune: It's fine suit up and let's move out I'm going to activate my distress beacon in my scroll and share my location. Someone will see it, btw I'm not the only one who saw the Atlas logo on all of those guys shoulders am I ?
Ren: I saw it too, but I'm not to sure what to make of it? Let's just move. Your orders team leader😌
Jaune: On me stay sharp, these aren't Grimm where fighting. These are living breathing people are your ready for that if it comes to it.
Ren: I can't say I will be but I will do what I can to see Nora again.
Back At Beacon
(Over the PA system)
Ozpin: Due to the ensuing chaos and destruction in the city of Vale all students are to remain in your dorms and be ready for any orders I may give.
Ozpin: I can not say things will be the same after today but what I can say is we will prevail in these dark times.
Team RWBY, Team CFVY, Nora, and Pyrrha are all in teams Rwby dorm trying to figure what to do. They all saw the news mass terrorist attack throughout the kingdom of Vale. They had just tried to reach Jaune and Ren but the signal cut out and they didn't look like they where in good shape.
Coco: Holy shit those people are...
Yatsuhashi: Gone. The people responsible for this... Who could do such a thing?
Velvet: ...
Fox put his hand on Velvet's back and rubbed to comfort her.
Weiss: Those men they patches they look like Atlas military.
Pyrrha: Can't be they're not organized like they're military, They're just waiting the gear.
Blake: ... I don't know Pyrrha they look the part.
Nora: I should have gone with them.
Pyrrha: Nora it's fine they'll be fine.
Yang was pacing back n forth but spoke up once she heard that.
Yang: Oh yeah and how do you know that?
Ruby: Yang... Calm down
Yang: I'm fine Rubes, just curious were supposed to sit here while two people we care about are out there in that mess.
Yang: You say they'll be fine but we've been sitting here for and hour with the same message going off every ten minutes.
Ruby: Yang
Yang: RUBY CALM
Ruby: YANG!
The room was absolutely quiet
Ruby: Jaune will be fine, I'm worried just as much as you are. Besides he is with Ren and they can both hold they're own.
Yang: Against Grimm definitely but people you and me both know Jaune doesn't take death well.
Yang: You may not know the full story but Ricky's passing weights heavily on Jaune.
As the two where about to continue the news anchor on air spoke of two male huntsman adding the Police in the attack. The group can see Jaune and Ren are fighting back and helping the Police but they're position is pinned down from all sides the terrorist are closing in on the law enforcement and huntsman outside of the Dusk till Dawn dust shop. Will the two Huntsman in training survive the endless amounts of men pushing in on they're location.
End Of Part 3
Character Analysis
Lie Ren: Age 18, Classification Mid-Grade, Huntsman classification: Oppressor, with fast unrelenting attacks Ren can send attacks in all the while keeping the targets guessing on the next attack. This opens up Rena targets for successful strikes.
Semblance, Cloak, this semblance allows Ren to cloak humor anybody who touches him making them transparent to the naked eye. This does have draw backs like the main one him and anyone he's in contact with is still there and can be seen with infrared. It also exhausting to do it with more then 5 people for more then 10 minutes.
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gallowswhump · 3 years ago
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Blue Eyes
The Start of Cirelc's story. In this he is still named blue. This is a look into his joining of the theives guild.
CW: Child Abuse, Child Abandonment, Homelessness, Theft, pickpocketing, broken bones, implied prostitution, starvation, attempted murder, serious injury, swearing, torture
It had always been like this, just barely scraping by on hand outs and sticky fingers. There was no reason for his fate that Blue could think of. Charity had left him barely enough for a slice of bread today, a couple of coppers in the mid week was nothing new. No holy day that would make people feel more charitable. No leftover coin from stocking for the week. Just tried people who had better things on their mind than the poor Aasimar boy begging for rations on the streat. Luckily, around the end of the day that meant lots of people with pockets heavy with coin would be walking from their place of work to their homes. He just needed the right mark.
A dwarf walking to the bar was a clear mark but Blue could already tell the man kept his purse close to his chest, patting it as he walked by the dirty urchin whose heritage is usually enough to make people think he isn’t a thief. A bad mark, okay the next one. A woman showing a little too much of her chest, the marks on her told Blue a different story of how her pockets came to be filled. Bad mark, no targeting the downtrodden even if they might have more. A man with dusty hair, rushing through the market. A bad mark, he knew the man, a coal worker seen carrying around a new baby on the weekends. The evening wound to a close and there was the sinking feeling of hunger setting in and the idea that his belly would go unfilled. There is a spectacle though, people moving out of the way of a group. Normally, a bad mark, people traveling together. The flashy clothes are what makes him take note. The two men to the side are dressed in clean black tunics, humans. The one to the left of their group leader is light skinned, bald. A nasty scar accents his general demeanor as he glowers at people who walk too close. The other one has dark skin, dark curly hair, not common to the area. He looks bored, his eyes lingering from shop entrance to shop entrance like he’s looking for some sort of entertainment. The leader, he is the attention grabber. A heavy large coin purse lies on his hip, that sort of gold was always too good to be true. He’s a tiefling, red skin dressed in very brightly colored flashy robes but Blue can see the hint of dark leathers under it. Ill gotten gold. No qualms about taking from other thieves, not ones with that kind of money. Blue circles the men for a bit, keeping out of sight as the leader peruses from shop to shop. He’s calm and confident talking up shop keeps about their wears. He buys an expensive knife with part of his gold. Blue waits in the shadows for the shopping to be done.
When they start heading for the tavern that’s when he pulls it. He runs through the marketplace, pretending like he didn’t see the brightly dressed man and runs head first into him. He doesn’t make the interaction long, taking the time of shock from the impact to pull the bag of gold from the tieflings belt, hugging it to his chest, covering it with his tattered cloak. He pretends to be hurt and shocked as he pulls away clutching his chest. He knows hands are coming for him, a reaction to push or to comfort he knew from adults but he dodges it. “Sorry, mister,” He voices in his best kid tone to make himself seem younger. Then he is off running like he has somewhere to be and now he does. A huge score was in his arms and he knows that the men aren’t likely to take his actions kindly. He needed a place to hide.
The woods were not the ideal sleeping space, especially with how much gold he had but he knew he couldn’t stay anywhere in town. He needed to move on and quickly. Trekking through the woods at night though was a dangerous prospect alone. One cold night out in the woods would be worth it just to get away with the gold. So, he finds a tree with a wide enough branch to sleep in and climbs into it. He could rest easy knowing that this would be the last cold night, the last hungry night. Those thoughts sit with him and let him sleep for a few hours.
Jerked out of sleep by feeling pain hit his leg and spine. He tries to raise his head. He had picked a wide enough branch that he shouldn’t have fallen out. His head is spinning but he can make out shouting in his sleep ridden mind. He feels a sharp kick to his side and he curls in on himself crying out as his brain catches up with the world around him, “Where is it you little shit!?”
“What?” Pain and sleep muttle his mind, forgetting about the actions he had taken only hours earlier. He’s grabbed by the collar and shoved back into the tree. He cries out his delicate wings taking the brunt of the blow. There was a snap and pain shot through his bones and up unto his spine.
“Don’t act like you don’t know I saw you take the gold!”
Tears start flowing from the young boy’s eyes, “Please I’ll tell you just let me go.” Smack. He’s hit across the face, hard. His cheek stings and the taste of blood wells up in his mouth.
“That’s not how this works you’re going to tell me.” Blue finally gaining control over his own muscles again struggles getting his hands up and trying to support himself on the bald man's arms. The force on his collarbone and into his misplaced wing is too much.
“Okay okay!” He cries out struggling. “It’s in my bedroll up there. There’s a false pocket sewn into the inside front.” He takes in a breath of relief kicking away from the man when he is let go. He pushes himself with his feet inching further and further away. The adrenaline starts coming down as he takes in deep breaths and the sharp piercing pain of a small broken bone hits him. He had broken fingers before, no big deal. A part of his wing though wasn’t going to be so easily patched up by himself. He wants to strain to look at it but his eyes keep focused on the man with the glower look as he comes down with gold in hand. More tears flow at the thought of what he just lost. No more security, back to hungry cold nights. Back to begging and thieving for every little luxury. He fights back a sob, he’s not a little kid he can’t act like one.
The man looks over, a smirk crosses his face as he pockets the coin into the front of his shirt, “You have no idea who you stole from do you?” Blue doesn’t answer, he just scoots back a bit more trying to get away. He knew that he could run and end it all but what little he did have was left in that tree. The man walks forward jerking his body in a threatening manner feigning another hit. “Answer me!”
“N-no, I don’t.”
A small tisc of his tongue comes, “Doubly bad for you.” Blue turns over and tries to get up when the man rushes for him but he’s grabbed by the legs and pulled back. They’re pinned underneath the man and he cries out.
“Please! Please you have the gold back, haven't spent a lick of it swear!”
He cringes away as the man whispers in his ear, his breath hot with the stench of liquor, “Boss doesn’t know that. I’m gonna get a gold bonus and catch the thief that stole from him.” The sound of a knife coming from a leather sheath is heard and Blue screws his eyes shut. “We’re all alone out here and I’m going to enjoy this.”
“Please stop! Get off of me.” His beg is met with the knife’s edge running straight along the exposed part of his back.
“Good for nothing street kid doesn’t even have manners.”
“Somebody please help!” Blue shouts as loud as he can knowing there was no reasoning with the man he had to hope someone would hear him. He struggles trying to get his legs free but the other man is almost double his size. His mouth is quickly covered and the blade is pushed up to his neck and his breath hitches. He didn’t want to die, not here, not like this. He gives muffled pleas for his life and the man on top of him lets it go on. He’s enjoying watching the boy beneath him cry and squirm. A large grin on his face and eyes that hunger to see someone’s life in his hands knowing full well he’s going to kill them no matter what.
“Cahir!” In a second the knife is pulled away from Blue’s neck. “Get off of him.” Blue can’t see who it is but his heart is racing. As soon as the weight is lifted from him he tries to bolt away but is quickly caught by the back of his shirt collar. He gives a gargled cry of pain reaching up for his neck.
“Oh no you don’t.” He’s thrown and pushed in front of the man who had him pinned down. He stumbles and comes face to face with the tiefling from earlier. His brow is furrowed and frown lines cross his face. Blue cowers away trapped between the man he stole from and the man who assaulted him.
“What is the meaning of this?” He talks past Blue keeping his voice steady but it’s ready to tip into full anger any second.
“He stole from you sir!” The man argues like he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.
“I am aware of that fact.” Blue looks between the two men wondering if he can make a run for it but decides against it. He wasn’t sure he could out run them even if he hadn’t just taken a beating. “I told you to stand your ground and stay at the inn.”
“We can’t let street rats get away with things like that!”
The tiefling glares the man down, “I gave you a direct order. I do not need to explain myself to you. Now hand me the gold and go back to town. I better not see you until morning.” Blue watches as the man walks up and he hands over the gold. He mumbles something under his breath as he walks away. He’s glared after until he’s out of sight and Blue takes the opportunity to try and slowly back away. He knows how to hide in the shadows, maybe he could get away that way.
Amber eyes fall on him before he can execute his plan. They don’t burn with anger anymore. They soften and brows now furrow in worry instead of anger. “You’re hurt. Let me help.” Blue pauses; he can’t trust this man.
“I’ll be fine.”
“In your state something is going to get infected and it’s my fault I don’t have better control over my men.” Blue bites his lip as he turns his head and stretches out his hurt wing to see the state of the damages. It’s hard to see between matted black and white feathers. Blood is coming from somewhere but he can’t tell where or what is broken. The red skinned devilish man is pulling something from his coat pocket. Blue looks over quickly but is surprised when it’s not a weapon but some kind of small jar. “I can help.” The man’s voice is slowly turning from strained calm to an actual soft worried tone.
Blue crosses his arms over his chest and pulls back, “Why would you help me?”
“You got my gold fair and square. I fell for one of the easiest tricks in the book because I wasn’t paying attention. That’s my fault. You taking my gold was entirely preventable on my part. I’m sure you can tell me every detail about that.”
Blue stays quiet before watching eyes make it clear that the man was serious for him to tell. “You kept it on your hip. Either you think that you could catch any thief or that much gold is a deterrent to any potential one. You were lost in buying and taking in the market. You could have seen me at any point in time and guessed that I was marking you. You let me run into you and the knot on the bag wasn’t very secure. Something stopped you from grabbing me when I first hit you, letting me run off.”
“Very good.” The man smirks, almost seeming proud. “Someone teach you that?” Blue shakes his head. That elicits a frown, “How long have you had to study that then?”
“My whole life.”
“How long has that been?”
“Dunno.”
“Best guess?”
“At least twelve years.”
“Where are your parents?”
“I don’t know.” Blue shrugs off the question, he doesn’t have any memories of anyone taking care of him.
“Will you let me help you?” Blue turns, looking around for his options of escape but he needs the bone set at least and he isn’t sure he can do it on his own.
“Fine…I have some bandages in my things” He moves, pushing through the pain to climb a couple of steps up the tree to pull down his bag and bedroll.
“Do you have a name?”
“Most people call me Blue.” He motions to his eyes the color for which he got his name sake. Tensing as he pulls out a roll of old cloth from his bag. The tiefling had come closer and he still didn’t have faith that this wasn’t a trap.
“Remy.”
“What?”
“People call me Remy.” Blue nods and he turns his back facing the gentleman. He can tend to the other minor scrapes and bruises himself. “You haven’t been taking care of these.”
Blue winces as a hand touches his wing, “It’s hard all on my own.” There is silence for moments where the man seemed to be focusing. Carefully moving matts and feathers out of the way trying to take a look at the damage without causing more pain.
“You know you surprised me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t even notice you until you ran into me. That isn’t common.”
“Yeah well.” Blue shrugged, he doesn’t want to talk, he just wants this to be over.
“Pushing these bones back into place is going to hurt.” Blue grits his teeth but finds himself unable to hold back a scream as a swift unwarned movement sets the bones of his wing back into place. He whimpers and stumbles forward but he’s caught around the chest with a full arm. It was clearly to try and prevent causing anymore pain. He wants to be strong but a sob wracks his body as he is gently pulled down to the ground. Everything of that night just washes over him. All of the pain from the broken bones and the beating, the loss of hope that a bag of gold could give, the tiredness from being uprooted from his sleep, the pain of hunger in his belly. He sobs. He turns into Remy and he just sobs. There isn’t any move to push him away or continue the pain; there is just a warm embrace surrounded by the scent of wood fire and paper.
Blue is allowed to let his emotions out, Remy figuring that the kid hadn’t really much time to just let go. With the bone set the minor scrapes and bruises could wait. Pulling the kid close and placing his chin on the top of the boy’s head in an attempt to comfort. Time passes eventually the sobs even out into shallow breathing. The tiefling isn’t surprised the kid fell asleep, childish but Blue was just a child. He shifts the sleeping boy around taking a look at his cheek. It would bruise if nothing was done. He sets the pot that’s been in his hand down on the ground, opening it with one hand the other, keeping the small boy close. The ointment would heal bruises and close wounds. He dips his fingers in before carefully applying a layer to the boy's cheek. He moves on checking and applying to other bruises and cuts he has. The wing would need time to properly heal. Remy wants the kid to sleep proper. He pulls away gently laying Blue down in the grass.
It doesn’t take him long to wake though, he lurches up looking around in a small panic. Remy holds out his hands motioning for him to calm down. “How-”
“Maybe half an hour.” The man waves it away and Blue can see the bags under his eyes. Judging by the sky it was deep into night and he guessed that the man must usually be asleep.
“Thank you.”
There is a small nod, “You know it doesn’t have to be like this.” Blue turns away. He knows there are people who would take him in but he’s scared. Adults have always been mixed in their kindness. That and he didn’t want to burden anyone with his pain. He could take care of himself. “You’ve clearly proven yourself as a thief. There is room in my guild for people like you. We have enough gold to make sure that our brothers and sisters don’t go hungry. You’d have a home to return to. A soft bed to sleep in.” Blue sits up looking over him for a movement. He seemed genuine. He pulls out the coin purse from earlier handing it over. “And there is a lot more where this came from.”
“Guild…” There is a small moment of realization. “You mean you’re a-” He covers his mouth knowing for sure now that this night should have ended very differently.
Remy though gives a good natured laugh, “You stole from a leader of a thieves guild? Yes.”
“But.” Blue looks to where the man from earlier left, then down to the gold, “What about…” That man had to have had a high ranking position. He can’t imagine himself being welcomed.
“Cahir?” Remy sighs, running a hand through his hair. “The man has a temper but knows how to behave in the guild. Besides, most aren’t like him. Most came to me lost, hungry, and hurt like you. They’re family. We protect each other.” Blue knows he doesn’t have to take it. The gold in his hand is more than enough to start a life. He doesn’t know what he would want to start though. What Remy was offering him sounded so appealing. A place in the world, with people who he could trust. He had already proven himself to be better than most people Blue had met.
“Okay. I want to join you.”
Remy stands up welcoming out a hand, “I won’t promise it will be easy but I have a feeling you already know that.”
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oureuphoria · 4 years ago
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Hiii, this is the old version of this chapter before I revamped the series because a lot of people have asked for it :DDD
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Jungkook was confused. He was confused about how you had gotten in, he was confused about why you had gotten and he was confused about who you were with. This was the most confused he had ever been and Jungkook took AP calculus. He ignored you however, opting looking at his phone instead. The date struck a chord in Jungkook’s head, finally remembering that it was your 21st birthday, and he missed it. Jungkook tried to tell himself that the boy was probably just a random friend, someone insignificant because you needed to fill the void he left. It was selfish, but he needed it to get him through the night. Everything was fine and under control. Jungkook wasn’t worried. Until, you went with the mystery boy to the dance floor, then Jungkook was beginning to feel his blood boil.
“Jimin, I can’t dance.” “Nobody can, just follow my lead you’ll be fine.” Jimin spun you around into his arms and you playfully danced together (although it was mostly stiff swaying on your part). Jungkook was livid but before he could spiral further he was broken out of his trance when Mel whispered into his ear. “I told you so.” He turned around and glared at her before claiming he didn’t even care. Jimin noticed his look of disinterest, not sensing the ingenuity behind his facade. “Damn, it’s not working. We need to try harder.” You furrowed your eyebrow at him questioningly at his vague suggestion, you needed to draw the line. “I’m just putting this out there, I am not kissing you that is never happening.” Jimin laughed uncontrollably for a bit and you tried not to take offence, after all, you didn’t like the idea of kissing him either. “You literally remind me of my little sister, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You both stood there close to each other trying to come up with a way to make Jungkook jealous without actually looking like you were trying to come up with a way to make Jungkook jealous. “Oh, I’m a genius, come with me.” He grabbed your wrist and you followed him to what was a secluded area that had dim lighting and a few elevator doors.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“This is it, this is the plan.” You looked at him with astonishment, he could not have been serious. “This is a shitty plan, Jimin.” He ignored your pessimism and gestured to the couples around you, all engaged in borderline public indecency. You got the hint but you weren’t sure that Jungkook would. While you were scowling at the vivid displays of PDA, Jimin slightly peaked from the edge of the wall where he spotted his target. “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” You quickly turned to him muttering a hushed, “what?!?” “He’s coming, he’s literally coming. Get into position.” “What position? We never discussed any positions.” Jimin quickly trapped you between the wall and his two arms and it was kind of awkward because you were almost the same height. Whatever macho move he was trying to pull had failed embarrassingly. “Okay, now giggle like I said something funny.” All you did is glare at him. “This is ridiculous Jimin I-” “Do you want revenge or not?” You tried not to whine because frankly enough this was not how you wanted to spend your birthday. You sucked it up anyway because Jimin’s scheme had no forseeable end. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” “God forbid you ever become a spy, you suck at this.” You were about to reply before a cough had you both looking to your left at the origin of the sound only to find what seemed to be a mildly distraught Jungkook. “Sorry, do you mind if I borrow her for a second?” Jimin nodded a little too eagerly and if it wasn’t for his distracted mind, Jungkook might’ve picked up on the inconsistency. You weren’t the only bad actor. Jungkook gave you barely any time to think before he dragged you to an even more secluded corner next to the bar.
“What are you doing here?” Jungkook knew exactly what you were doing but he realised he needed a cover for randomly pulling you away, he couldn’t just admit he was jealous, that would be extremely hypocritical. “None of your business." “When you’re underage it is.” He knew it was your birthday and that you were of legal age but he couldn’t possibly tell you that, not when you could barely look him in the eyes.. “Nope, it still isn’t.” Jungkook didn’t know what to say but he knew he didn’t want you to leave his side at all. You didn’t like the awkward silence so you made an an attempt to leave, but it was futile. “Now if you don’t mind I have to go find my friend.” Just as you are about to walk away from him, Jungkook rested his hand on your shoulder and you halted, your back facing him. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want me to leave you alone tonight.” You hated the cockiness in his tone, you shouldn’t have given in but you turned around to face him out of spite.
However, the moment your eyes interlocked with his, you were gone and the only thing you could think about was your lips on his. It didn’t take long for you to lose your resolve, in fact his lips were making their way down your neck before you’d even realised you kissed him. You gasped quickly under your breath when he began to suck on the lower part of your neck, he grazed his teeth over the same place afterwards before detaching his lips and smiling deviously at the mark he made, the mark you had no idea existed. “Have fun with friend tonight, Y/N.” And with those final words of false encouragement, he walked away. You stood there where he left you, frozen for a bit while blinking rapidly to try and comprehend what had just occurred right before you. You rushed to find Jimin.
“What happened?” Jimin’s voice was laced with concern at the sight of your teary eyes. “Nothing, Jungkook’s just an asshole.’” “Details stupid.” “I kissed him and he kissed back before running off with some bullshit ‘have fun with your friends’ You mimicked his part in a deeper voice that made Jimin chuckle a little, though he quickly stopped when he saw your neck. “Y/N he gave you a hickey.” You gasped loudly. “Please tell me you’re lying.” You ran your fingers over where he kissed your neck and winced when you felt a bruise. “Oh no. Now I have to wear turtlenecks everyday.” Jimin laughs at your now even sadder state. “Don’t you get it? He clearly did that on purpose to deter me. Sneaky, smooth, handsome bastard. You have got to ask him to teach me his tricks.” You looked at Jimin in disgust and he mocked your face before wrapping his arm around your neck. “Oh our little baby Y/N got her first hickey how amazing.” You elbowed him slightly again and he swiftly pulled your hair out of your ponytail. “You can use your hair to cover it up.” You hated having your hair down but he was right, it conveniently covered the hickey quite well. You went back to sit at the bar with Jimin but he excused himself to go to the bathroom.
Someone sat beside you and you had assumed it was Jimin but when you turned around you were met with Jungkook instead and sirens went off in your head like that scene in the movie inside out.
“Did I tell you that you could cover it?” You didn’t give much attention to what Jungkook had said, you forgive too easily and you weren’t going to let that happen again. Jungkook could see that you were uncomfortable and he hated the fact that he couldn’t comfort you or make you feel better. Hell, he was most likely a huge part of the discomfort you had felt lately and he regretted every second of it now. If he couldn’t bare to see you with someone else he wondered how badly he’d hurt you in the past by doing even worse. “Why did you lie to me?” You barely mustered the courage to ask him that question. He hummed in reply to your broken voice, not understanding what you had asked. “Why did you lie and say that you liked me when you didn’t?” Jungkook kept his lead low, trying to formulate an excuse, any excuse and yet nothing but the truth would come to mind. “I didn’t lie.” You scoffed bitterly, clearly not believing his answer. “I hope you don’t go around hurting all the people you like, Jungkook.” He laughed lifelessly, swinging around his drink before chugging it. He decided then and there that he was going to tell you everything, every single worry that stopped him from being with you because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like you were the problem.
“In high school, I fell in love with a girl named Ruby. She was absolutely beautiful, the kindest soul I had ever met. Senior year, she was killed in a public shooting. I swore to myself that I’d pursue law enforcement after that so I’d never be that helpless again. She’s the reason I became a cop. She’s also the reason I thought I could never fall in love again. Y/N when I first met you I didn’t plan to like you as much as I did, frankly I didn’t plan to like you at all. I’ve been alone ever since I was 16 and after Ruby passed away I never thought I wouldn’t be. It felt unnatural for me to do simple things like take you out on dates or even reply to your messages. I kept forgetting and fucking up the more I’d try and every time I saw you I’d feel more and more guilty because I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”
“All I wanted was you, Jungkook. I didn’t want all your time or attention, I probably would’ve been okay with one phone call a week but you were so inconsistent. You’d talk to me nearly everyday and then not at all. I’d feel like I was getting closer to you and then you would feel like a stranger again. It was exhausting and it hurt and I know it hurt you too. You need to stop denying yourself happiness. What happened in the past will never change, no matter how much you beat yourself up about it. Moving on and being happy with someone else doesn’t mean you’re forgetting her. It just means you’re not forgetting yourself.”
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m such a horrible person.” You shook your head. “You’re not a horrible person, you just deal with your doubts and problems horribly. From now on, you have to tell me what’s troubling you. Show me the worst of you, and we can deal with it together.” If Jungkook wasn’t sure about liking you before, he was head over heels now. He hugged you, his head sinking into the crook of your neck. “I don’t deserve you.” You laughed a little at what he said. “If you ever ignore me like that again. I’ll never forgive you.” Jungkook chuckled and pulled back from your embrace, looking you dead in the face now.
“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” You looked at him weirdly but you quickly dissolved into a smile. “So you did remember!” His face softened at your excitement, your sleepy eyes shining through though. “Come on, let me take you home.” You were about to agree but then you remembered your friend and you wondered where he went. “Give me one second.” Jungkook’s eyes visibly hardened. “Are you going to look for Jimin? Seriously Y/N?” You pouted with pleading eyes. “But he’s my best friend, I have to at least say goodbye!” Jungkook looked confused now. “I thought he was your date.” Your face fell when you realised you had just blown your cover. Jimin was right, you would make the worst spy. Jungkook was beginning to realise what had happened now and he seemed even angrier. “Y/N please tell me you didn’t do all of that just to make me jealous.” “Well it worked, didn’t it? Let’s go now.” You were dragging Jungkook away mid-way through your question, you pulled out your phone to call Jimin and he immediately answered. “Y/N did you secure the bag yet?” You obnoxiously laughed at his horrible code name and Jungkook looked at you weirdly. “Where did you put my coat?” There was a pause that was prolonged by Jimin’s “ummmmmmm…” which eventually resulted in him telling you to wait and hanging up.
“I don’t think he’s coming Y/N, here you can have my jacket.” You rolled your eyes, he clearly didn’t like Jimin. “Calm down will you, it’s been like 40 seconds.” Jungkook clicked his tongue in annoyance, eyeing your dress cautiously. “Maybe if you wore something that covered you more you wouldn’t need a coat.” You started to giggle a bit. “It’s a pretty dress don’t you think?” “No it’s hideous. You’ll throw it away once you get home and never wear it again, right?” You shook your head, wanting to tease him. “I like it, I think I’ll dress like this more often.” Jungkook groaned before pulling you towards him by the waist. “I’m going to get you a shirt that says “my boyfriend’s a cop” and you’re going to wear it everywhere.” You would’ve laughed if he hadn’t addressed himself as your boyfriend. You smiled nervously, you wanted to address it but you were scared he’d run away. Your nervous face made Jungkook worry. “You do want me to be your boyfriend, right?” You smiled sheepishly at his question. “Yes please.” You mumbled ever so slightly. He hugged you painfully close before kissing the top of your head. “I missed you, princess.” You didn’t know how to feel about the pet name, was he still mocking you or complimenting you? “I’m not sure if I like that nickname or not.” Jungkook laughed at your hesitancy to accept the nickname.
Jimin ran out with your coat, handing it to you and then looking at you and Jungkook with teasing eyes. You glared at him so he raised his hands defensively and went back into the club, blowing a kiss your way. Jungkook hailed a cab and opened the door for you. He then leaned down to speak to you which you found peculiar because you thought he was going with you. “I have to go back inside, the Chief’s there and I’m really trying to get a promotion.” The desperation in his voice made you belt out a bubbly laugh before you stopped abruptly at his pointed glare. He sent you off with a goodnight and gave the driver a $50 note before letting you go. When you were about to pay the cab driver he laughed and said your boyfriend had already paid and too much at that. You were about to correct him till you remembered, he really was your boyfriend, you went home with a huge, beaming smile.
I’m so sorry this is so late 😭😭😭 @p-jiminaa
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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago
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A Walk In The Park
Masterlist
Warninngs: Swearing
Meeting Henry in the park.
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A Walk In The Park
It was about 9 in the morning when you got the leads out of the cupboard deciding that by this time the park would be quiet as the school rush was over and anyone who had to be at work was.Your two excited dogs ran at you jumping over one another to be the first on a lead , your 3 year old blue doberman Milly was first as you clipped the thick leather lead followed by your bearly year old phantom standard poodle polly. You preferred walking them when it was quiet because of their rare colours your girls were a prime target for dognapping because any pups they had would be very expensive. You grabbed a small bag of treats ,their ball launcher and favourite ball as you left . Walking to the park it was a huge enclosed field that had a small fenced off play area in the middle there was a foot path around the edge with the occasional bench and bin, large trees dotted hear and there across the whole park, near the enterance there was a small coffee kiosk for the dog walkers that frequently used the safe enclosed space to run there dogs. Once there you saw three other dogs running loose one large and two small but they were far enough away that you should be able to avoid them. Walking a quater the way down the field you released your babies letting them go scatty they both ran off in a large circle around you letting off steam. After a few moments they slowed down panting watching you as you leaned the ball launcher on your shoulder then flicked it catapulting the ball a fair distance . Playing the game of fetch as you continued walking slowly around the field. Throwing it for the 12th or so time was when you heard someone calling for there dog to "leave it" as an akita that tore past your two and caught the ball resutling in a freindly game of chase as Milly and Polly tried to get it back you laughed and waved it off as the large man jogged closer to you still calling his dog. He was very handsome from here you noted.
"Its fine, their freindly" you called out ,he shook his head at the playful pups before smoothing his dark hair back as he watched the three play excitedly. It was rare that your babies had a similar sized dog to play with everyone now days opting for tiny 'cute' dogs and the larger breeds falling out of fashion. You giggled as the akita run up to its owner dropping the ball who dutifully threw it in your direction. The three dogs chased it erratically it was only as they got closer you realised he'd misjudged the distance before you could move his dog collided with your legs sweeping them from under you. Crying out suprized you landed with a heavy thump on the near frozen ground, the dog realising its mistake stood over you sniffing to see if you were ok joined by your two, before being pushed away by the most beautifull man you think you have ever seen, your thought stuttered to a halt as you noticed he looking down at you with bright blues eye filled with concern.
"Kal you big lump look what you did. I am so sorry are you ok?" He said helping you up laughing it off.
"Yeah im fine not the first time a dogs knocked me on my ass." He looked you over quickly decideing that your ok but began trying to brush the dry dirt off of your legs and bottom. Flustered as this heavenly stranger wiped at the seat of your jeans,you bent down quickly to take over ending up butting heads hissing you both grabed your throbbing forehead.
"Shit sorry fuck is your head ok? Look at me" he said cupping your face making you look at him as he gently ran a thumb over your bumped head. You couldn't help the a small gasp as you saw just how handsome he really was tall and broad, a clean shaven angular jawline,his mouth had a defined cupids bow that looked perfect for kissing among other things, lightly defined cheek bones and all topped off with a set of incrediblely clear blue eyes he looked like a god, you snapped out of it as he ran his tongue over his lips in what you assumed was a nervous gesture.'well you are just fucking oogling him' you thought
"That was my fault sorry, are you ok?" He nodded staring at you still smoothing over your face, you thought it was because you looked a mess after falling ass over tit but it was actually the opposite he thought you were beautiful. Blushing at his appraisal you nervously pulled his hands away ,looking down stroking your babies who had been hovering around you since you fell,you quickly turned your attention to his dog.
"So hes a boy then?" He nodded sheepishly as he realised he'd been caught staring snapping out of his thoughts.
"Yep this is my son Kal" he said ruffling the dogs furry head who was panting content. You giggled it was cute
"These are my babies Milly and Polly" you pointed each one out he smiled letting them sniff his hand gaining approval to stroke them.
"They are really sweet ,amazing colours i dont think iv seen them before. I couldn't acctually tell what breed Milly was when i watched you come through the gates" He stated then faulterd sheepishly as he'd let slip he had been watching you ,choosing to ignore it he concentrated on giving your babies ear rubs as they reveled in all his attention. You nodded smieling shyly.
"Well thank you most people think they are scary tho because of there size. Milly is what you call a blue doberman and Polly is a phantom coat both are rare its why i try to bring them here when its quiet" he nodded in understanding sighing in relief as you didn't mention his embarrassing admission.
"Sometime people are wary of kal because of his size. And you coming when its quiet would explain why I've never seen you here befor, I'd have definalty remembered you" he flirted you blushed not sure where to look as he smirked at you. He picked up the ball launcher and leads from the floor beside you. Holding out your hand to take them back he twisted them away from you lightly with a teasing grin.
"I think we should continue this walk together ,you know for health and saftey's sake" he said winking at you as he used the launcher to pick up and launch the ball out towards the field causing the trio chase it. You nodded looking away your face glowing he chuckled.
"I just realised i havent introduced myself im Henry" he held out a stong hand you shook it introducing yourself.
"Y/n" he tested your name
"Well Y/n would you allow me to buy you a coffee on this fine cold morning?" You smiled shyly at him nodding
"If you want to"
"Oh i do trust me" you felt giddy as he slipped your hand in his before makeing your way to the kiosk.
It had been just over three weeks since you first walk with Henry and it had become a daily occurrence you'd both meet up at around nine grabbed your coffees and do two or three slow laps around the park before going your seperate ways. In that time you'd gotten to know one another he seemed quite reluctant to talk about his job at first, which you understood when he told you he was an actor, he was worried that it would scare you off but it didn't bother you in the slightest and that was the day you exchanged numbers. Your walks were spent chatting and casually flirting with one another, before you knew it you had a crush on the sweet man. Today was particularly cold as you made your way to the park when you got there Henry was at the bench by the kiosk coffees in hand he let out a laugh when he saw both your dogs in their little knit jumpers. You pouted at him as he gave you your drink.
"So your one of those?" He got out between laughter as you let them off their leads and began your walk.
"Yep its for a good reasons tho poodles hair is fine and wavy when they're young it gets thicker and curly with age untill then they feel the cold really bad and Milly gets jealous if Polly has her jumper on and she doesn't" he nodded watching as kal followed the two going between them investigating the jumpers comically then they began chaseing one another for the new slightly bigger ball that you had tossed towards them.
Henry moved closer towards you grasping your hand as usual, taking sips of his drink opting to kick the ball with across the grass with his feet as one of the dogs returned it.
"Well its freezing today there threatening snow by the end of the week" you sighed
"Just what i need snow" you muttered into your cup taking a mouthfull.
"Tell me about it i hope it will hold off until friday" you looked at him confused as he kicked the ball again.
"I have to travel just outside of london on wednesday should be back by friday morning at the latest ,its a fitting and makeup test for an upcoming role ,they have a few different ideas but want to have it sorted asap the costume and props are going to take a while to be ordered and made" he explained shrugging lightly, you deflated slightly it meant soon you wont be able to see him, he would be away filming and promoting and youd be on your own.
"Oh.. that sounds fun tho, are you looking forward to it?" You asked trying to bite down your dissappointment he turned to you smileing wide
"Yes its a role i never thought id get when i auditioned but im really excited for it i cant wait to start filming" he said enthusiasticly you nodded but kept quiet as you kicked the ball kal had brought back. He slowed down and binned your now empty coffee cups then took a long look at you sighing before pulling you around to face him.
"Hey dont worry i'll call you everyday at the fitting and when I'm filming" he said stroking your hair out of your face with one hand an overly intimate gesture to anyone onlookers.
"You dont have to do that" you said trying to look anywhere but his face not wanting him to see how upset you were. You had no right to feel like this you hadn't even known him that long.
"But what if i want to?" He said before pulling you closer to him by your interlocked hands and joining free hands. Your gaze snapped to at that he continued knowing he now had your full attention.
"What if I say that I'm gonna miss you, miss talking to you everyday ,miss the way I can make you blush adorabley with just a look or miss holding your hands in mine ,that im going to find it hard leaving you behind here when I've only just gotten to know you." You were lost for words staring at him as he rubbed to back of his neck.
"That... didnt sound as cheesy in my head.. I just mean I really really like you, as soon as I leave here I cant wait for tomorrow to see you again. What I'm trying to say is that I really really like you" he admitted
"I like you too" the words left your mouth before you could stop them he looked up glowing at you. Quickly before his courage dissapeared he wound his large arms around your waist and pulled you against him leaning in for a kiss, you gasped as his lips met yours soft and gentle at first before tilting his head down more and deepening the kiss becoming more heated and desperate as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer as your tongues danced back and forth. Hearing a whining you both pulled back looking down at three impatient dogs waiting for the game of fetch to continue. You both laughed Henry kicked the ball without releasing you before leaning down again.
"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that" he mumbled against your lips placeing chaste kisses on them as he spoke.
" and now I cant seem to stop"
"You think your the only one?" you giggled at him meeting his kisses half way
"Just so you know I expect this to be our greeting from now on love" he whispered lowly and squeezed your waist your tummy fluttered at that.
"Well i suppose thats an acceptable request" you murmured he gave you a mischievous smile.
"Who said anything about request? I'll greet my woman as I see fit" your laugh was cut short as he kissed you deeply again. Before pulling you around one arm slung around your waist as he guided you along the path against him.
"Your woman? you havent even bought me dinner?"
"Which i plan to rectify tonight?" He asked cheekily you nodded at him leaning your head against his chest feeling like the luckiest girl in the world as he looked at you lovingly leaning over kissing your head.
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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago
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May 20, 2020: 12:52 pm:
Upon assessment of the neighborhood without going any farther than thirty feet from my front door, the following:
It’s a beautiful day outside.
The sky is blue, the clouds are fluffy and white, the breeze is crisp and cool, and the surrounding woods are in full blown Oregon bloom, swollen to maximized thickness, and color. Visibility outside of the surrounding forest, is very low.
The sound of some kind of gasoline motors from the GP Community Church area to the south lasted a few minutes, an ominous sort of moaning that was not that of a chainsaw, weedeater, or lawn mower, but was some other growling sort of a gasoline powered distant moan.
Dogs barked in tandem at the Monroe’s terror cell, and seemed more aggravated than the usual kind of barking they do, and for a more sustained amount of time.
There are no airplanes to mention, not small, or large, not high, or low.
There are not many small birds to talk about today. Had I done this same kind of report fifteen years ago, you would have read about how unbelievably noisy and diverse the local small bird population is, and I might have reported that the sound of small birds in the woods around my home was so loud, that it woke me up from sleep at dawn, through the walls of the house, I can’t say that, because that is no longer happening. The populations of small birds here on Jackpine are nearly non-existent lately. I saw a hummingbird last few days ago, and I was shocked to have seen the small bird. That hummingbird was the first one I had seen in many years. The Robins are the most prevalent of the small birds that remain, by far. There are a few warblers, but there should be many thousands of warblers, and they should be very noisy little birds right now, in May. There are very few bird call in the woods happening.
There are fake bird calls regularly. The terror army uses bird calls as they advance to attack at my home. Many of the terror soldiers here are supplied with instruments that mimic the sound of particular kinds of birds and other animals, those instruments are supplied by the local Bi-Mart store, to the terror soldiers. Bi-Mart has a very good selection of hunting and fishing equipment considering the size of the store, and those bird call instruments are the ones that hunters use, and are available at the Bi-Mart, on the shelves. They include turkey calls, moose and elk calls, and others. Bi-Mary sells about thirty or forty different kinds of animal calls, and those are used by the terror army regularly, and have been for many years. The calls are not used for hunting, they are communication tools, when sounded, simply and covertly, say that the terror solder is in position, or, other pre-arranged meanings. One thing is clear, and that is that each local terror soldier, has and uses an identifiable and distinct animal call, such as a bird call, with the exception of the turkey calls, which seem to be used by all of the terror soldiers to announce some kind of condition when the turkey call is sounded. By the way, there is more than one sound that a turkey makes, and each of the sounds has an instrument available at Bi-Mart to mimic it. One sound is the familiar gobble sound, and another sound is more like a squeekie sound, there are instruments for each of those sounds, and others.
I observed someone at the Chapman terror cell wearing the orange crash helmet hard hat that the fake tractor tree crew was wearing. Just one man, no tractor, and not the man-boy nor the tractor operator. It was someone different, wearing the same terror outfit from the same terror scenario screen-play. The man was using an electric hedge trimmer to do heavy forest clearing work for only long enough until he saw me looking at him, then, he scurried away with his electric hedge trimmer.
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I want to say again some things about Pacific Power Corporation, and the use of “Smart Meters” for terror. “Smart Meters” were installed on all of the properties here in Josephine County. They don’t require a meter reader to read the electric use, and that is a nice feature, if there were no terror here. But there is terror, and the “Smart Meters” are part of it. I have three Smart Meters installed on three separate power line drops at my property. I don’t like them, they present an immediate threat to my personal safety and well being by making me a target of terror attack that are based on knowledge of activities I may be engaged in at a given time.
The Smart Meters, are connected to the Pacific Power HQ through a cellular telephone-like, wireless connection. The connection is always on, always broadcasting, in real-time, and it basically is always making announcements of the amount of electrical current being drawn to a particular power meter.
The amount of power drawn, is the amount that is used.
At my house, the terror bastards have learned my electrical use habits. They know that I take precautions, and don’t use electric lighting inside my home any more than is absolutely necessary, and they know that I use a lot of lighting on the outside of my home. They know exactly how much power I am using at any given time, and they know what is considered as a usual amount of power consumption.
Recently, I made some small changes to my power usage, and I also made some assessments of the result of those changes, and how the changes were connected to the Smart Meter being used as a terror tool to kill with.
Two things happened: One, I plugged in a battery charger, and left it there to charge the battery to a tool that I need to use, to repair something that the terror army broke, and is getting more broken as time goes on. I need to find a way to make a repair, without being killed while making the repair. That simple sounding idea, is no longer a simple task in terror controlled environment. The battery charger was plugged into the wall outlet, then, shortly after that,I began to over hear conversations over about one weeks time. The conversations boiled down to a group of people who wanted to figure out what kind of thing would draw the amount of power that was showing added to my usual electric usage. That means the bastards are doing the math, to separate the refrigerator, the fan, the usual lighting, and the cooking that they already did the math to figure out, and needed to find out what I plugged into the wall, a battery charger. After a week, I heard the bastards talking about the battery charger, they figured it out. The extra draw, was a battery charger, and the Pacific Power Smart Meter was used to get that much more personal information about what is going on inside of my house. I disconnected the batter charger last night at about eight pm because of that. The other observation, was some lights that I almost never use, they are incandescent lights in a ceiling fixture and I turned the lights on for about four hours. Terror soldiers attacked me that day, more than any other day that I can recall in the recent past. Those incandescent lights, four of them with one that is burned out, in the ceiling fixture, attracted terror soldiers almost immediately, and all day long. So much attacking happened, and I was killing the intruders, that I decided to leave the lights on, since that attacking terror army had mentioned them so many times as they were on approach to enter my home, and kill me. I didn’t really need the lights on for four hours, only needed them for a short time, but for reasons that I don’t know, those incandescent lights drew terror more than any other thing I have ever noticed, and that makes them worthy of this terror report. The Smart Meter, is used to micro-manage the real-time use of power at a residence. That information is used to know in advance, where an individual is located inside the house, what they are doing, and how long they may be ore-occupied with that activity.
End Terror Report: 1:54 pm.
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