#yes both ocs are old as myself

[memento-morri-writes]

I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:

tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries

He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[thedeadthree]

-`. i need to be more unhinged about her so here is yana in this picrew. 🥀🌸<3💀

[canthelpit0]

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. we ain’t spoke in so long, probably put me in the past. i can still get you wet, and i can still make you laugh.

01, CHAPTER ONE. OLD SPARKS.

ju speaks. who’s catching my word play for this chapter ooouuu.. i’m having so much fun writing them already and yes, maya’s gonna be a problem (i am just so predictable). pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos. kinda content too? idk this fic feeds you all.

present day, may, 2025.

los angeles still doesn’t feel real.

it’s like a whole new game out here, and i’ve been telling myself i can handle it. going first in the draft was wild—i’d dreamt of that moment since i was a kid, but hearing my name called, realizing it was real, felt different. la’s been something else too, this city that’s both too big and somehow feels small once you’re in it. i’ve got an apartment with this insane view too. floor to ceiling windows, sunlight flooding in every morning, palm trees out front like something off a postcard, but it doesn’t quite feel like home yet. i guess i thought maybe it would by now.

the team’s been great, though. down to the vets, the coaching staff, the media team… every single one of them welcomed me like i’ve always belonged here, and that makes things easier. cam threw this party tonight to really celebrate me being here, not just another pr event, but like… i don’t know, like they actually wanted to get to know me better. her backyard’s all polished up. the gates hold up some fairy lights, and the smell of barbecue just tops it all off.

maya’s been around since day one, practically the second i landed here. she’s one of our coordinators—smart, organized, and just enough older than me. stanford grad, of course, which she’s mentioned just enough times that i know she’s proud of it. there’s something good about her. yeah, she’s good. she knows how to handle herself, that’s for sure.

nailea hasn’t been around. i thought i’d see her by now, maybe even catch lurking during one of my practices or just… run into her somewhere. i mean, i’m sure she wouldn’t quit her job because of me. she’s been quiet, out of sight. which is fine. we haven’t really talked since before the draft—if that’s what you’d call it. it’s probably for the best. i don’t think she really wants to talk anyway.

i’m mid-sentence, talking to rae and rickea about their pregame rituals when maya steps up, her manicured hand resting casually on my slouched shoulder like it belongs there. she laughs at something rae says, smiling, and i feel myself ease into the conversation a little more.

rae’s all animated, talking about how she won’t step onto the court without this neon scrunchie she swears by. i’m leaning in to give her grief for it when i catch something in my periphery—someone, actually.

nailea’s here. at my welcome to the league party, maybe just coming by to say she showed up. i’m sure cam would kill her if she didn’t, they got pretty close last year. she looks like she just stepped out of my memories, if you think about that memory everyday.

i suck in, turning in attempt to not make myself seen. then, rae, three jell-o shots deep and definitely feeling it, pats my thigh in excitement and grins wide. “nai! c’mere!” she calls her over, completely missing how i’m trying not to look too invested.

i bite my lip, turning my head back over. i see how she hesitates, and then she looks at me. there’s no emotion, not a single ounce of longing or surprise. she looks at me like i’m nothing. it hurts more than i’d ever admit, but at the same time, i get it. i don’t exactly have the right to expect anything else.

her eyes shift to the others, weighing her options, probably playing out how the entire encounter would go in her head, but rae’s insistence doesn’t really give her much of a choice. she flashes us a grin, though i’m sure it isn’t for me, before she slowly waltzes over.

my eyes follow her like some unconscious habit until she’s almost in reach. as she comes closer, i find myself sizing her up, cataloging the way her hair falls just right, how her shirt hangs off her shoulders. then, out of nowhere, rickea shoves a finger into my ear from my left, and i flinch, turning to see her arched eyebrows silently demanding that i lock in. i don’t question it—i do. a little bit.

“nai handles a good chunk of our pr. she’s doing game day operations this year too,” rae cuts through. she was on some paid internship last year, testing out every role the sparks had to offer to see what she liked. she moved up. got the job.

i don’t know why it stings that she’s doing good without me.

“we know each—“ i begin.

“we went to high school to—“ nai says at the same time as me, and i look at her. rickea is stifling back a laugh beside me, and nai finishes her sentence.

“paige and i went to high school together.” she says, and i stay silent. high school? is that all i am now? a high school buddy?

rae’s grin grows wider, and she’s so excited about it i can barely make out her words. “she’s so great, and basically our backbone now,” she says, nudging nailea’s shoulder. “if it weren’t for her, i’d be late to half my interviews, right?” she laughs, a little too loud.

“guess you owe her then,” i say simply, forcing a grin. nai’s eyes flash to mine, but they’re off me just as quick. i let mine stay, squinting as maya begins to ramble.

“and she makes my job way easier.” maya’s fingers tap against my shoulder, almost like she’s staking a claim. “you ever need someone to keep you in line, paige, she’s your girl,” she adds, smiling at nai, though there’s some unfamiliarity to it. i can tell that they know each other, just not well enough i’m assuming.

nai’s eyes drop to maya’s hand, just a quick glance, but it’s enough to make me hyper-aware of the touch. her gaze returns to my face, a single eyebrow raised in that subtle way that’s more telling than words. like she’s already put it all together, and she doesn’t need to say a thing. instinctively, i shift, shrugging maya’s hand off with a casual roll of my shoulder, trying to mask it as if i’m just adjusting my posture.

nai doesn’t react, but her mouth twitches, a hint of a smirk, there and gone.

she lets out a soft laugh as i lean more against the table now, and i caught the way maya dropped her hand to her side. “i think paige has got it handled.”

i raise an eyebrow, leaning back just a little. “could always use the backup.”

nai’s eyes flash with a quick, knowing glint as she tilts her head, that slight smirk of hers appearing like she’s been waiting for an opening. “backup?” she repeats, nearly cheerful. i hated her tone. “thought you were more into… side options than backups, paige.”

it’s subtle, just low enough that only i catch the full weight of it, but it lands. i let out a low chuckle, stroking my chin and licking my lips. “aight,” i say, swallowing down any reaction, “i set myself up for that.”

maya gives me a sidelong look, sensing the tension but probably not quite getting it. nai laughs softly, a quick, dismissive sound that shouldn’t hit as hard as it does. it’s almost like she’s proud of getting that dig in. i cross my arms over my chest, and for some reason, i can’t contain my own smile.

rickea jumps in then, catching the vibe—or maybe just rescuing me. “anyway!” she says, her voice bright, easing into some story about some mascot switch-up from last year nai had to handle. i nod along, pretending i’m invested, though every part of me is still reeling from nai’s words, her laugh, the way she looked at me like she had me all figured out.

but maybe that’s what she wants me to think.

the backyard’s emptied out now, save for a few stray bottles and a couple of plastic jello cups scattered across the tables. i slide the glass door open and step inside, the house now filled with some low music from a record player. i was planning to find cam, to thank her for throwing this whole thing together. but when i come into the kitchen, it’s nai i see, her sleeves rolled up, forearms wet, scrubbing out a vase under the sink.

she’s focused, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, and i catch myself looking just a second too long before she looks up herself, catching me in the act. she pauses for a moment, her hands stilled under the water before she continues.

“didn’t take you for the clean up crew,” she mumbles, a little low that i almost don’t hear it over the running water.

i shrug, poking my bottom lip out. “figured i owed cam for putting this together,” i say, eyes still fixed on her. “nothin’ like a little gratitude, right?”

she lets out a little scoff, eyes still on the vase, fingers working over the smooth glass, rinsing it under the stream. “cam’s got enough gratitude coming her way,” she murmurs, and i can’t really read the implication. “she doesn’t need more from you.”

the words are light, almost casual, but they land with an edge that sticks. i take a slow step closer, letting the sliding door click shut behind me as i stand by it, almost like i’m stuck.

“well,” i start, beginning to stroll closer with my hands tucked in my pockets, “maybe i’m here because i wanted to check in. see how you’re doing.”

her eyes cut to me briefly, unimpressed. “i’m good, paige,” she says, letting the vase drip dry on a towel, and turning her attention to the next one. “never been better, actually.”

“great,” i say, not breaking eye contact, even as she keeps hers on the dishes, hands slowing just slightly. “then you won’t mind the company.”

she lifts an eyebrow, smirking, and i feel my pulse spike. “company?” she repeats, cocking her head as she pauses, hands resting on the edge of the sink, she says, “i think i’ve had enough of yours for a lifetime.”

i wiggle my eyebrows at her. “aw, don’t be like that, nai.” i can’t help the laugh that slips out, soft and a little cocky. “where’d you pick up all this lil’ attitude at?” i manage to get a little closer with each word until i’m rounding the island. she knows i’m there, close, and trying to ignore it probably.

she sighs, setting the vase down with a clink that sounds just a little too deliberate before picking up the last one. “life has a way of teaching you things. people, too.” she cuts her eyes my way, just barely, still trying to act like i’m not right in her space.

“oh, so now i’m a life lesson?” i murmur, stepping so that i’m almost right beside her, leaning on the counter. “but you’re still here. helpin’ clean up my party.”

she hesitates, and i can see her jaw tense just slightly. “i’m here for cam.”

“cam, huh?” i murmur, my eyes never leaving her. “and what about me?”

she laughs, a little breathless, and it’s the first real sign of her softening. i’ll take whatever i can get. “you’re somethin’ else. you know that?”

of course i know that. she knows i know that, she used to tell me it all the time. she reaches to cut the water off, flipping the vase over on the counter to dry. “good somethin’ or bad somethin’?” i ask, inching just a little closer as i tuck my bottom lip between my teeth.

“depends on the day,” she replies simply, and i can tell she’s trying to occupy herself as she rearranges the glasses.

i smile, facing her as i lean an arm on the counter. “that a challenge?” i lick my lips. “you know i love a good challenge.”

she scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes but staying put nonetheless. “don’t think you’re up for this one, bueckers.”

“oh, i’m up for it,” i counter, following her every move. “in fact, i thrive on it.” i’ve managed to get so close now that i can smell the scent of her shampoo mingling with the faint floral notes of soap. i can’t help but notice the newfound lightness to it too, and i realize she must’ve switched out some old with some new.

“mhm?” she asks, that smirk returning as she finally looks at me. i love when she hums like that, like i’ve got her at loss for words or something. her gaze flicks down to my lips for just a heartbeat, but i catch it.

“yeah,” i whisper, testing the waters. “and i’m pretty good at winning.”

i can see the shift in her expression—the way her breath hitches just a bit. “and what do you think you’re gonna win?” it’s like it took everything in her to say that as she exhales.

i lean back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes fully, but my focus has found her lips again. “you know what i want,” i say, and my voice is almost a whisper. “i think you know exactly what i want.”

there’s a faint smirk on her face as she grips the counter. “no.” she says, seemingly very aware of my intentions as she shakes her head, but doesn’t move an inch.

i let my tongue swarm my mouth hungrily. “just one.” i practically beg.

she leans in, leaving a soft, fast peck on my lips, and i’m afraid it isn’t enough for satisfaction. she’s back staring, and before i get the chance to say anything about it, it’s like she already fought the doubts in her mind as she throws herself into me, lips crashing.

my lips press against hers in that familiar, heady rush that i’d almost convinced myself i’d forgotten. she doesn’t pull away—instead, her hand slips up to my shoulder, the same one maya had her paws on just a couple hours ago, and fuck i can barely bring myself to think about that.

my hand finds her waist, gripping just enough to feel her press against me, her breaths shallow, matching mine. i want to rip her clothes off and take her here, no matter how uncordial that may be, but the universe seems to have other plans.

she tastes like everything i’ve had time to reflect on, every memory i know she tried to bury. i’m rough, hands squeezing her waist so tight like i’m scared she’ll slip away if i let go.

but just as i’m getting lost in her, we’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps. we break apart instantly, spinning toward the door just in time to see cam step in, her eyes widening as she stops short, eyebrows lifting as she takes in the scene.

my tongue darts to the corner of my mouth as i place my hands behind my back awkwardly, as if to keep them from wandering. nai is smoothing out her shirt (the most obvious thing you could do in a situation like this), that guarded look slipping right back into place as she clears her throat.

“paige was just leaving.”

[ang3lofdivinity]

Haiiiii!! I have no clue if youre taking requests or not, but I was wondering if you could do general relationship hcs for Riley (if you’re comfortable ofc!)

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

“ 𝖨𝖽𝗒𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖼 ”

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

︶⊹︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶︶⊹︶

Relationship(s): Riley Andersen + GN!Reader (both platonic and romantic)

Format: Headcanons + small stories

Genre: Fluff + A decent amount of angst

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, Inside out 1-2 movie spoilers, emetophobia, panic attacks, little oc insert other than that- none!

Author’s notes: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR ONE OF THESE. AAAAAAAAAAHAHEHJEHAJAHSH. Guys, I love inside out 2, I’m seeing it tomorrow again. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I made you a bit of a recluse in this, so i’m.. very sorry - Playlist recommendation (not mine):

Side note: Idyllic - extremely happy, peaceful, or picturesque.

Platonic:

Definitely one of your best friends.

She’s so sweet 😭

I wanna say you met her shortly after she was introduced into your class, when she was 12. You probably moved to San Francisco as well, but probably from at a younger age- like 5 years old.

You learned earlier on to understand the environment and adjust to it (even with how different and altering it was to you). You’re used to the same routine everyday, the same things everyday, and many things haven’t changed since then. You’ve definitely had trouble with friends even after being here for so long, though, it doesn’t matter- you were weird, at least to everyone around you. They never liked the fact you were.. primarily reserved. You were teased about it, nothing too severe, until it turned to bullying.

It’s…hard. The idea of being alone for the rest of your years here in middle school and then being alone in high school as well because they remember the recluse you were—

Well, until the new student arrived.

Riley Andersen, a girl who moved here from Minnesota with parents.

..If I’m being honest, it hurt to hear the pain within her voice after talking about her life in Minnesota, how she would play hockey from such a young age with her parents.

Though, it definitely took you much longer to actually talk to her, and go up to her. You’d definitely give her longing glances, seeing how lonely she seemed. And you understand, you’re in that very same position.

When you did introduce yourself however, she seemed a bit aloof about the whole situation. And you were patient.

“..Is this seat taken?” The nervousness in your voice was obvious, even with how much you tried to mask it. Tried to control the shakiness of it as you stood next to the dull, wooden picnic table. The blonde, with her head in her hand slightly looked up at you, surveying you for a moment before resting her head once more.

“..No.” She quietly replied.

“Did you.. wanna sit here?-“

“YES!— ..Yes, if that’s okay with you, of course!”

YOU EMBARRASSED YOURSELF. NONOJKOJOBO. GODDAMNIT. THIS IS NOT HOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GOOOOOOOO.

“Make yourself comfortable.” You could definitely hear that she was at least attempting to be optimistic in her tone, which you silently appreciated.

Quickly sitting down, you placed your tray in front of you and attempted to find the most comfortable position to sit in.

“..So, you moved here- from Minnesota, right?”

“Mhm.”

..Dry reply. But- that’s okay! You understand why.

“It’s nice to know someone else who’s similar to you. I moved here myself as well, though it was.. a few years ago now. I’m sure you’ll at the very least like it here.”

“Oh- shoot, sorry um.. I’m (___). Riley, right?”

“..Yeah. Riley Andersen.”

You didn’t miss the small smile she gave you.

YOU HAVE ACQUIRED A NEW FRIEND LIFE-LONG FRIEND! :DD

Well- of course after some causal conversation about interests, hobbies, etc.

The two of you exchanged socials so you could keep in touch, and the two of you started talking more often during school and out of school, planning stuff for future hangouts and such.

It was genuinely nice to talk with her and get to know each other’s interests, and your bullies at school seemed bewildered at the fact that you’d actually grown more confident to go out and make friends. Even if it was some new girl like Riley.

Though when she started distancing herself, giving dry responses such as: “K.��, “wtv”, “lol”, “bye.” The repetitiveness of this had gotten you worried to the point you couldn’t even think of anything else but possibly losing your new friend. You just met her!

And this dryness eventually turned into ignorance on her end.

Of course you were going to be a bit of a worrywart over your friend, you had no idea what was going on in her head— you just wanted to help her in any way possible, and the nagging feeling that was gnawing at you due to this was impossible to ignore any longer.

So, you texted Riley when you noticed she was online one day: “Hi Riri! I’m sorry for the sudden message, but I’ve taken note that you’ve been leaving my messages on read for a bit now, and as much as I can understand wanting space from social platforms, but I would at least like to know if you’re okay. So, I wanted to request a video call or a meetup, so we can talk about everything going on, and you can speak your mind. I just want to talk to you, please.”

Apart of you wanted to wait for a message, but the other part of you wanted to close your laptop and hide in the corner of your room.

Though, you couldn’t pick fast enough given the fact Riley had already started typing her reply- given the fact you could see that she was.

“Call, ig. Whenever.”

..You instantly called the moment you got the chance.

“..Riley?” You quietly spoke up shortly after your friend had picked up the call, the laptop resting in your lap as you stared at Riley through the screen.

Riley seemed more despondent than you had seen her before, as she avoided any eye contact with you. The way your heart felt like it was sinking to your stomach-

“Riley?”

“I’m fine, (___). That’s what this call is about, right?” She spoke so bluntly- you probably would’ve thought you were talking to someone entirely different if you didn’t see Riley’s face, or recognize her voice you’d grown accustomed to.

“Riri- no, well- yes.. but that’s not the only thing! I want to know if anything’s bothering you. You know you can always tell me anything going on.” You interjected, shocked of the situation which was unfolding before you.

“Oh yeah, right.” …She rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious!”

“I can tell you’re lying to me!” The way she yelled at you, looking at the screen- the way her eyes were filled with such hateful vitriol made you physically recoil, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Did you do something to deserve this? Did you say something weird?? Maybe she’s just going through something and is so pent up because of it! But- with the way of how this conversation is unravelling, you really don’t think this is how this is gonna go.

With furrowed eyebrows, you frowned and surveyed her expression once more.

“You don’t understand what’s going on. You could never! And it’s not that you would even care anyways.” Riley continued, looking away from the screen once more before she tossed down her laptop onto her bed.

You really had no idea where any of these ideas were coming from.

Have you just not been a good friend? You’ve tried. You’ve tried so hard to be kind and courteous with your friend, you’ve tried so hard to genuinely help her, but it seems like all of your efforts are going to waste. Perhaps you didn’t try as hard as you thought in order to be a good enough friend who was worth hanging around with, worthy of love and being able to not beg for attention or seem needy.

Maybe they were right.

That you’re better off without any friends, that nobody would want to be your friend anyway.

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

“..Whatever.”

“Riley- wait-“

She closed her laptop, ending the call.

…what do you do now.

There’s no way to describe the next few hours during those moments.

You were up in your room, pacing, feeling a growing headache starting to blossom like a poisonous flower of sorts.

Nothing yet everything was going through your head at the same time, did she hate you? Was she going to drop you? What if you never see her again?? Would she hate your guts and actually try to humiliate you the next time you see her during school, or any other time?

Your breath hitches at the thought and you move yourself back up against a wall. Your parents weren’t home, they’re out probably galavanting around. It felt like blood was pounding through your ears, the feeling of a heart became unbearable and uncomfortable from the fact it was beating so fast, thudding against your chest. Your back slid against the wall as you curled up into a ball, hands shaking- entire body trembling. It just continued to get worse, whatever this was, as your vision became disfigured and distorted, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. You swear you felt your chest feel tighten, coupled with the fact it felt like bile was coming up your throat.

It felt disgusting.

All of it, you felt so sweaty, you felt filthy.

This is pathetic. (You don’t understand what’s happening.)

But you can’t move your body. It feels so stiff. The feeling of cotton in your mouth making you unable to speak, the heavy sensation of your limbs, the way the lights are too bright for your eyes now- it feels like the room os starting to spin, with the walls closing in, and the ceiling pressing down. You can't breathe anymore. You can't even scream as much as you wanted to at this moment.

The scariest thing about whatever’s happening still stands:

You have absolutely no clue what to do.

It makes you feel powerless. Weak. Pathetic and worthless.

Just like it does with the events that just unfolded with Riley.

And it makes you too tired.

Too tired to keep yourself awake.

Desperately, you find yourself trying to find some source of comforting within the rising heat of your own body, even with what’s happening. The tiredness begins to wash over, even with all of these feelings still present, and it genuinely makes you feel worse than it should. Everything about this feels wrong. You should be able to handle this- not freak out over it.

But you can’t help it.

You don’t know what else to do.

. . .

You don’t know how long you were passed out for.

But you realized that you’re on your bed right away. You found yourself turning on your lamp, before hastily starting to look around for a moment, around for your laptop. The moment you found it, you opened it, the time was the first thing you saw on the screen.

1 am.

You passed out for 2 hours.

Your parents must’ve come home and put you in your bed. Theres still lingering effects from whatever happened earlier, like a throbbing headache- and your eyes are incredibly dry, along with your throat.

It takes you a while before you slowly close your laptop, and shakily arise from your spot on your bed, finding yourself going downstairs to get a snack and a drink. Everything felt.. fuzzy, in a way you can’t describe. Derealization is a better way to describe it.

In languid movements, you grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge, and decided to make yourself some simple microwaveable ramen.

Sitting there at the dinner table was awkward.

It felt lonely.

Depressing, even.

You attempt to distract yourself by drinking your water and focusing your attention on the outside sky, and the time on microwave.

You made sure you stopped it before the alarm went off.

Slowly eating, just.. wanted to not think about everything going wrong.

But you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t do anything. You only made things worse, no?

Nothing else eventful happened during your time downstairs, and you finished up your food rather quickly, before cleaning up after yourself. You took your plastic water bottle with you, back to your room. Closing the door behind you, you placed the water bottle down on your nightstand before getting back into bed, the dim lighting allowing you to focus on your computer screen better.

A new message alert popped up on the screen.

It didn’t say who it was from, as you were just about to put in the password. The message left as fast as it appeared, and you barely saw it.

…

You quickly typed in your password, the screen resuming back to your chat logs with Riley. Where the new message was. You scrolled down, and saw the lengthy message in its entirety.

“(__), I know you’re probably asleep right now, but I know you’ll get this message when you wake up and I can’t get rid the guilt off of my consciousness because I’ve been thinking all about it ever since the call, but I’m so sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be so rude, or accuse you of anything. That wasn’t right of me. I have not been going through an easy time, and I don’t wanna divulge that all to you right now, but perhaps in the future when I’m not so tired and emotional? But, I understand that you’re going to be upset with me over the situation, and may no longer want to be friends with me. If you do, I won’t hold it against you. I just hope you can forgive me eventually.”

You could feel more tears well up in your eyes.

Riley was currently offline, though. She probably went to sleep.

But you wouldn’t just not leave her without a response. So, you got to typing quickly.

“Hey, it’s okay, Riri! I understand. There’s absolutely no way I would leave you as a friend, you mean so much to me that I don’t think I can believe a future without you being there as my first friend. Of course we can always talk about it later, but don’t feel pressured to do so. I’ll let you know again that I won’t pry information out of you, I’ll only be there to comfort you in anyway I can! You’re my best friend, Riri. I care so much about you, okay? Never be scared to tell me anything. (Sorry for the fact this is really short, I am so tired and have a headache- lol.)”

You two eventually talked about the whole ordeal eventually.

Overall, you two are inseparable!

Now, if we’re going to time-skip a bit to now where you’re also friends with Bree and Grace, you’re all still inseparable.

Maybe you play hockey- maybe you don’t, and play a different ice sport (ie: Ice Skating).

Nevertheless, you’re all incredibly good friends. You schedule hangouts as often as you can, understand each other, open up to each other, learn interests and hobbies you’re all interested. You enjoy each other’s company.

Bree is a great listener, and she actually sometimes will partake in some of your hobbies with you while you’re also doing them, even if she has no idea what it is. Like, if you’re drawing, she’d grab her own sketchbook and start drawing herself! (Though, neither of your drawings may not be good, you appreciate it). If you do actually play in a different sport, such as Ice Skating, you’d probably try and teach her some different moves- though she’d fail miserably. She’s at least trying, and that’s what you appreciate! Silent time with her is something you also enjoy having with her, because she’s one of the most comfortable people to be with (no offense to the others).

Grace is probably one of the funniest people in the group (not that the other two aren’t funny, its just that she’s so out of pocket at random points that it’s so perplexing yet, hilarious). You all could be silent for a moment while eating something, and then she says one of the most BEWILDERING things ever in human history. It shocks all of you to the CORE. (Don’t lie, we all have this one friend). If you tried showing her some moves in Ice Skating, she’d probably get some right. Though ultimately, she’d be decently stiff and fail in the end. But failure is a learning stone, not something to look down upon! She’s your favorite person to be around if you wanna get your hair braided or laugh so hard you can’t breathe.

Now, back to Riley. Even with Grace and Bree, you two still hold the closest relationship, given your guy’s background, you two talk the most to each other. You’ll blabber something about one of your interests, and she’ll add onto it, and then it’ll be a back and forth of questions from her and answers along with fun facts from you. You even got her into doing some of your hobbies from time to time! If you were to show her some moves in Ice Skating, she’d just admire. SHE WOULD NEVER DO IT. She would be too anxious, and freak out before even doing anything, so she just gives you a thumbs up. Though, if you implored a bit, she’d definitely give in and absolutely FAIL. (None of these girls know how to Ice Skate). Nevertheless, she’s one of your favorite people overall, and you care about her tons.

Now if we fast forward even more towards the end of the Inside out 2 movie, to where Val and her friends come into play..

Val is a gentle, yet firm person. Even with the age gap, you both are stille good friends and care for each other. She’s more like a mother figure to you, but still. You two managed to find a few hobbies the both of you enjoy that you both partake in whenever you can/are available, to which you both take great delight and joy in. Both because you enjoy each others company, but because you can relax and don’t have to worry about conversation, because if you/her want it to be silent- it’s comforting, but if you/her wish to engage in lighthearted banter about anything in general, it feels natural and genuine. Not forced, like you two have to keep talking, but that if you want to, you can! If you tried to show her any Ice-Skating moves, she’d definitely be the best at accuracy and skill. What can I say, she’s a woman of many talents! (She still fails). The best person if you need someone to go talk to. #ibelieveintherapistfriendvalortiz.

Romantic:

Yk this girl is so anxious.

I feel like her love language is acts of service. Ngl.

Taking everything from the platonic area as a prequel to this, she definitely knew she had a crush on you the moment she actually started seeing so many things about you that she hadn’t noticed before or really taken attention to: Your smile seemed much more genuine, your eyes had this small shone to them she originally didn’t see, the way you were by her side when she asked to console her- rubbing her back in circular motions, hugging her firmly yet softly.

….WHAT IS HAPPENING. HELP. WHAT DOES SHE DO???

WHAT IS THIS FEELING.

Amia is behind the console, and accidentally made her so confused with this sudden romantic attraction. (IM SORRY, I WANTED TO HAVE AN EXCUSE TO BRING HER UP).

She definitely starts trying to get closer to you as possible, scheduling more private hangouts for just the two of you- such as picnics, hangouts at her house. And she would use the fact that Grace and Bree wouldn’t be able to make it to her house at the time to her advantage/as an excuse.

Though, the downside is the fact she’s too anxious to even speak to you half of the time. Too anxious to genuinely do anything- even get closer like she originally intending.

..She eventually asked her parents for some advice. Which, may or may have not been a good idea.

Even with that, they still did help in their own way.

So the next time you went to leave your house for whatever, you’d discover a letter at your doorstep. The next day after that, flowers and chocolates. Though they weren’t expensive gifts, they were something.

You noticed that Riley actually started doing things for you before you even asked. You were about to ask her for a glass of water whole the two of you were relaxing at either her or your house, and she’s already handing the glass. You were about to ask her to pass her one of the ingredients you needed while cooking, and she’s already placed it into your hand. Trying to open the door? She already opened it for you, about to leave? She’s got your bag for you before you leave, full of everything you could needed. It’s gotten to the point where you’re actually a bit scared of her intuition.

Perhaps you may have had a crush on her too? Who knows. You decide, after all.

It’s.. hard to pinpoint when this whole ordeal started unraveling, but nevertheless- you felt very… odd at first. Why was she doing all of this for you? A part of you wanted to say that it was all just her being extra friendly on accident and that it meant nothing- but another part of you thought differently.

But the idea of someone having a crush on you felt absolutely and utterly absurd, ridiculous, and incredulous!

You two are just friends! (Just friends.. okay, right/sarc).

She would.. never think of you in romantic sense, there’s just no possible way. (De Nile is a river in Egypt🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️/ref).

(OMFG I NEED TO STOP. IM GIGGLING TOO MUCH AND BEING IMMATURE. But it’s silly).

Nevertheless, you just.. cannot accept it as true. It’s just some actions, it’s nothing that serious! You’re over-analyzing and overthinking it! Stop thinking like that!

..But it doesn’t go away. The itching sensation in the back of your brain never leaves. You’ve started to think about it 24/7, and as much as you try to push it down and say you’re overreacting, it’s still there- even diminutively. It’s. Always. There.

With the more time you spend trying to rid of the suspicion and feeling, you’ve started noticing little things about Riley yourself: The way she looks at you just a little longer than anyone else with a look in her eyes that is indescribable, the way she waits for you at the door as you pick up your phone and holds it open for you, the way she leans closer to you whenever watching any movie- and perhaps in a too intimate way. Like, she gets too close and rests her head on your shoulder, nuzzling herself into your neck ever so subtly.

..I think it’s safe to say you’re getting attracted to her.

ESPECIALLY WHEN SHE’S PLAYING AT A HOCKEY GAME AND SHE WALKS UP TO YOU LOOKING ALL PRETTY, WITH THE WAY THE SUN REFLECTS OFF OF HER SLIGHTLY DAMPENED HAIR-

…

Yeah, yeah you are.

You’re blushing so hard at the realization of what the hell is happening right now. And you’re way too nervous to tell her anything. You even found out she was the one who left those small gifts at your doorstep. How?

Well..

“I’ll go get us some snacks from downstairs, ’ll be right back!” Riley’s voice sounded out, and you looked up from her sketchbook you’d been using with her permission!with a small smile on your face as you nodded in understanding, before she rather quickly shuffled out of the door and downstairs. You went back to doodling on the sketchbook.

You were just going to pay attention to what you were going to draw next, you saw a small piece of paper sticking out on another page.

..you should not be prying- but, perhaps she drew something!

The excitement filled you as you flipped to the page, where you were meet with no drawing of any kind. But instead, there was a note which was ripped. It was written rather quickly, and the confusion of what you were seeing quickly filled you. But looking at the first few lines had you shocked and blushing like crazy.

‘I had given them a few gifts to leave on their doorstep like my parents..’

Instantly, you closed the sketchbook all together, head racing with so many thoughts at the same time.

She was the one who left those gifts?…

You couldn’t believe it, at all.

Perhaps it was for a different person? (But it was too similar).

What the hell were you supposed to do now????

Wait for some sort of date from her?

Or ask her out yourself?

Both would be.. nerve wracking, but you knew you had to make a move soon, or you probably would never have another chances. You felt scared, more nervous than you had ever before in your life, but you seriously thought that there was going to be no other option.

You had to do it sooner rather than later, in fear of what would happen.

Especially with the possibility of ruining your relationship, you’d take the risk. For the both of you. This way, you could learn if she was truly being more friendly to you for some reason or for none at all and she simply felt like it.

But then another problem came up:

You had absolutely zero idea on how to ask someone out.

..what do you do now.

Well, you at the very least- knew it had to be romantic. Something genuine. None of that faux stuff!

So, you decided on a rather fancy picnic, that appeared to be more of a tea party instead of a small picnic with the fact that you wanted it to be much more different…

There was a large glass table with an umbrella stuck in the middle and unfolded as to keep those safe from the bright sunlight, delicately covered with an embroidered lace cloth.

Upon the table, there are an array of delectable snacks and drinks, carefully arranged. Elegant porcelain teapots, each filled with a different fragrant tea, sat alongside dainty teacups with gold-rimmed edges. Platters of finger sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and jam.

(You don’t remember how long this took, given you used old antiques and cleaned them so many times- just in case, and made all of these foods yourself. You borrowed the fancy table from your garage and cleaned it down, given it hadn’t been used in years, and brought some simple- yet fancy looking chairs from your house as well).

And you spent quite a bit making sure the letter you sent to Riley was perfect.

You were sat in one of the chairs, dressed in one of your most fancy outfits. You didn’t want to look foolish during this, after all- you made it all look this fancy for a reason!

It was a nice day out today, given that it wasn’t very cold or too warm to be uncomfortable. The sun was on the horizon, and the moon was rising as the stars started shining within the soft colors of pink and orange in the sky. Honestly, it felt more like a dream that this was happening.

And the way you’re genuinely panicking internally-

“(___)?” You heard someone speak up, and you turned your head to look at..

Riley, who was in her fanciest dress, you noted., Though you know she’s not one to dress so formal unless it’s an important event. The dress was white, right above her ankles with a floral design embroidered into it. Even on the slightly puffy sleeves. Though, she was still wearing her converse, with plain white socks to match. Her hair was styled into topsy tail ponytail from what you could see, and a flower clip in her hair.

“Why, don’t look rather ravishing!” You immediately said without another thought, and she blushed at the remark.

“Thank you- you look great yourself!” She nervously laughed while smiling, blush growing on her cheeks. A moment of silence passed between you two, before you spoke again.

“Well don’t just stand there, come sit with me.” Riley instantly became stiff, before nodding and scampering on over to the empty seat in front of you. You gave a lighthearted laugh before subconsciously wiping your hands down the sides of your outer garments.

The two of you stayed in somewhat awkward silence before striking up conversation with one another, talking about the things you did- not including anything.. personal (fangirling over one another) But, instead things you weren’t together for, like actives you did with family, or games/practice you had. Riley even commented on how well made and delicious the food tasted, which made you blush HARD. You were so giddy, yet so anxious at the same time- you felt the need to throw up.

“Thanks again for inviting me.” Riley spoke again before taking another bite of her macaroon, as you simply nodded. You’d found yourself going quiet as you continued to eat your food and sip upon your favorite drink the fancy, porcelain tea cup.

..how were you going to confess your feelings to her after she finds the little note stored in one of the macaroon? How will she react? Will you be able to speak fast enough? Will she accept this, or hate you for the rest of your time together as friends???

Your body was tense as you thought of all the horrible ways this conversation could go after she-

“Oh! Cool, some of them have little fortunes- like fortune cookies!” CURSES.

Riley’s face changed from one of joy, to one of perplexity as she read the small piece of paper, before looking up at you with the same look.

She could definitely see how pink your cheeks were.

REACT, IDIOT, YOU LOOK LIKE AN IMBECILE FOR JUST SITTING THERE!

“..(___)-“

“Riley Andersen, will you be my girlfriend!!?” You slapped your hands over your mouth the moment you said that. The words spill from your mouth like word vomit so quickly you had no time to react while you were saying it, only afterwards did you truly realize what you did.

Her mouth went agape, blinking a few times as she simply stared at you in shock, before her expression changed to a softer one and smiling wide.

“Of course.”

Now, isn’t that banal?

But it’s the way that it happened.

(Side note: you’ll never get to know what the slip of paper said 🫶😋)

Nah it was just some rhyming, and cringey poem that would continue with you saying aloud ‘Riley Andersen, will you be my girlfriend?’

You two are both very awkward to show each other any sort of affection in public, or in private at first. But; it started with Riley slowly- trying (and, failing) to be subtle, holding your hand in public.

Grace and Bree are the first two people you three told about your relationship after you got together the other day. Val being the third.

The more comfortable you get, the more you tell other people, like Riley’s Parents.

They definitely would take you to those Pride parades to show their support, ik it. Prove me wrong rn.

Nevertheless, all of them are incredibly supporting of your relationship!

The more comfortable you two get in the relationship, the emotional and touchy you get (not in that way 🤨).

Like, more hugs (back-hugs, random hugs, etc) between you two, more cheek/forehead kisses, cuddling for the first time, first time kiss, etc. The whole spiel.

Now… on the topic of the first kiss..

It happened at her house while it was just the two of you. Her parents were off at their jobs, and it was summer break. How it happened is.. decently embarrassing. She was leaning in to give you a cheek kiss, until you turned your head in her direction, purely for the reason you were going to ask her a question. It wasn’t until your lips were both connected did you realize what was going on.

Safe to say that both of you were blushing messes.

Grace and Bree tease you often about your relationship, not in a rude way- ofc, but in a friendly way. Val, gives small remarks from time to time, but they don’t mean anything rude by it!

Your relationship overall is pretty healthy, even with some small arguments here and there, and might even struggle with some miscommunication.

Your guy’s relationship though has its ups and downs, like any other, but you’ll always try your best.

For Riley.

Your wonderful girlfriend <3.

. . .

“All we’ve been able to think about is (___) this entire week!” Disgust exclaimed, not necessarily in a bad way, but moreover in a.. realization kind of way. Looking down at the console, which was a deep pink color.

“Isn’t it wonderful!? (___) is so lovely… WE COULD THINK ABOUT THEM EVERYDAY from now on! They’re so kind, sweet, beautiful, and so much more!!” Amia beamed happily while clasping her hands together.

“Says the Love Emotion..” Fear remarked quietly to himself, before sipping his tea. That quickly earned a glare from her, which had him running off in a hurry.

“It’s good though! It proves we’re a genuine partner, and that we’re truly smitten with them!” Joy added, ruffling Amia’s hair as the smaller emotion giggled.

“..They can never be boring, you know?” Ennui, leisurely laid on the couch, said. Laughing a bit.

“BUT, What if they think we’re being too much of an overbearing partner though!?” Anxiety yelped aloud, jumping out of her ‘special’ chair to run up to the console, as if looking for tanything that could be a sign or anything possibly wrong. That only lasted for a moment before she backed away, flapping her hands and pacing around.

Joy stared for a second, smile dropping before sighing, shaking her head in disapproval and a softer expression taking over.

“They could never! They love us, Anxiety. They’re being genuine. Just look at Riley and (___) together right now.” The emotion’s hands rested upon Anxiety’s shoulders, gently leading them towards the console to stare at what was happening with Riley at this very moment.

Riley and (___) were happy with their current circumstance. Genuinely contempt. They were currently star gazing in a nearby park, the moonlight’s soft rays of light hitting the couple’s faces, as if it were a true person- caressing their faces ever so gently. Their hands intertwined, and focused on each other, along with the stars to witness their own date. They really could stay like this forever, leisurely sitting in the lush grass near the jagged rocks of the lake to which the light was reflecting off of against the moving waves.

(___) rested their head upon Riley’s shoulder, eyes slowly closing from the tiredness that’d accumulated over the day. And hesitantly, she leaned her head atop of yours.

They were really here. It wasn’t just some wild and crazy dream that dream productions crafted, but instead it was reality, the meticulous reality that now Riley and (___) live with.

It really was idyllic.

This took so long… i can confirm because my phone is lagging so much while typing all of this + my Acheron!reader.

WHICH IM WORKING ON I PROMISE

Enjoy my blood, sweat, and tears(PLEASE. PHONE IS LAGGING SO BAD)

[fuk1ngb1tch]

Kids and my AU Flowey + Extra

Raaah more Undertale au art upon thee!! I love my silly au<33 but this time it isn't just the au- (which is called Mutated Cores) but I'll talk about that last. Anyway talking about the drawings and characters under the cut to save space, which will also have cropped versions of the image<3

First, I'll talk about my AU version of Flowey the Flower. Look at this silly mf

He's MUCH bigger. Context: Frisk is 10 years old!(A little short for their age, but yk) "Normal flower size" is how big he used to be. He's still got the same personality as og Flowey though.

Anyway, I made an OC! And drew Clover!! The OC is the integrity soul, the soul that fell before Clover! Her name is Quaver (Eighth note) and they go by She/They pronouns^^ (oh, and, she's clover's older sister^^)

Btw individual closeups of Clover and Quaver cause I feel like it<3

She fell into the underground when she was 13, and when Clover was 7, Clover going to the underground 4 years later, when they were 11.

Man, I wonder why two siblings both fell in the underground. Definitely had nothing to do with their shitty parents 👁️👁️(headcanon of mine for clover considering things said in undertale yellow, but their main reason was still to do with the fallen humans ofc)

Also NERD (I love him)

Also mini comic?? Wanted to draw my au Clover and Quaver together (as I unintentionally made certain things of their hair very similar which I found neat and wanted to compare them) and it turned out as lighting/shading practice. So proud of myself bro<3 (did not wanna draw that background tho lmao)

Also ended up drawing Starlo and Frisk for it too (I was gonna draw Chara too but I didn't know what to do for em) so ye😋

Anyway wanna learn about my Mutated Cores AU? You can find Frisk&Chara, Papyrus, and Sans too for additional context about the AU! Frisk&Chara will have the most info about the AU itself though currently, along with Papyrus!

Anyway, Finally, the Grillby! He's from a roleplay au:) he's got first that looks like hair just cause it looks cool.

You can find papyrus of the same au of the random Grillby here^^ hope you liked my drawings:)

[seiya234]

happy tauniversary

this post is kind of late, because i was out with my kid all day at the corn maze.

a lot has changed since we started TAU

ten years ago I had been in maryland all of two months. my then-fiancee and i had moved from texas, where we both had lived our entire lives. i was not only planning our wedding (in texas!) but i was also starting my ph.d.

to say that i had a lot going on would be a huge understatement.

i had just gotten into gravity falls via tumblr- shout out to whoever made a gif set from 'the hand that rocks the mabel'- when i ran across zoey's original two to three posts. to this day i couldn't entirely tell you why my brain seized on this au, other than it did and it immediately went into hyperfocus mode.

before TAU, i hadn't really written any fanfic except for some discworld au and some drabbles here and there. but a post about future niblings really inspired me and before i knew it i was writing.

i started messaging @zillychu a LOT and god bless their heart they humored me and answered back. after about a month of accumulated posts they created the blog and began to mod it with @homebeccer and @ghostfiish . There was a brief period where @zillychu was thinking about stepping back from the blog and because i was an extremely over eager beaver, i practically kicked down the door of their inbox and begged to be a mod.

the rest, as they say, is history.

i had absolutely zero idea that this would last ten years. when i joined, i had no idea that we'd have a skype channel and then two (two!) discords, that there would be a wiki, that there would be fanvids and tiktoks and cosplay and of course the literal terabytes of fic and art.

to this day, it still thrills me to no end that y'all make art and fic of my OCs. never in my wildest dreams as a tiny baby weeb would i have ever thought that THAT would be a possibility.

a lot has changed for me in these ten years. i got married. i recently got divorced. i had a baby, and now that baby is a big girl and in kindergarten. it took dont-ask-how-long but i finally got the ph.d and now shamelessly introduce myself as Dr. Seiya everywhere i go.

and i made friends. @haberdashing and @avafalls from our early days (hey habby and avagator!) @skia-oura sent me a beautiful baby kimono from their home in Japan and I still have the beautiful log and flower arrangement @oreramar made me one christmas. (the hot chocolate is long gone lol) i've enjoyed so very deeply getting to know @toothpastecanyon, @feferipeixes and @avespecora (sorry i missed the eclipse!) i almost got detained at the canadian border for @marypsue (spoiler alert, don't tell canadian immigration you're staying with a friend from the internet but you don't know their home address)

the blog almost got deleted. we've had mods come and go as life happens and moves on. the blog is old enough i've been able to see trends happen, and characters become popular, fade away... then coming roaring back again. i've personally told the mods two times that i was stepping back from the blog For Real For Real (for real this time) because life was catching up to me and I just wasn't as in to it as I used to be only to come slinking back like the dirty liar I am. i see in your notes all the time that you all have been reading this since you were tweenagers which ngl does make me feel the cold breath of the grave on my mid-thirties back but also warms my heart.

@transcendence-au changed my life, and for the better.

thank you @zillychu for making a random one off hc post that exploded into something i don't think you could have ever predicted.

and thank you all (yes, you. you in the back. i like your shirt.) for your support and your love.

[moodymisty]

Ugh. I promised myself I wasn't going to spam you, but I just read your post about closing requests soon, and I wanted to get one more in. I swear I won't get impatient, though! Absolutely take all the time you need!

Every so often I go back and re-read your old fics (because they're awesome) and I just finished the one about the serf willingly giving their blood to a Lamenter. What about a fic where a fem-serf is able to bring her Lamenter lover out of the Black Rage?

Put in as much angst (and/or spiciness) as you like, as long as the two end up alive, together, and hopeful at the end. I just need something to go RIGHT for those poor, sweet boys.

Thank you so much!

Author's Note: Technically you can't pull an astartes out of the Black Rage, but I'm sure we could temper it before he completely loses himself ;3 This came out like, happy sad and fluffy. I hope you like.

Relationships: Theo (Lamenter oc)/Fem!Reader

Warnings: None really

A booming voice rips through the massive room, where the baseline humans aboard the Lamenters ship are eating. A few marines are eating too, forgoing the traditional time to enjoy a meal with baseline humans they perhaps consider friends.

"Where is Theo's girl?!"

The voice rips through the room, everyone turning to look his way.

He is with one other astartes, who looks just as concerned as he is. They both scan the room, the air itself having dropped into silence at the yells of an Angel.

"The girl! The serf who is always with Lieutenent Theo! Where is she!?"

You're that girl.

You wonder why they want you, why they are screaming; Astartes voices are so ungodly loud, you look at them as your throat tightens. You couldn’t be in trouble?

“…I'm her!"

You eventually say, the people beside you watching as you raise from your seat. They look worried, like your days are numbered, but you doubt the Lamenters would kill you so easily. It's not as if you've done anything wrong; Unless your relationship with Theo was worthy of such a corporal punishment. You pray that won’t be the case.

"Come with us!"

You follow, attempting to keep up with them as they barrel down the hall. Your heart burns from your tired breathing, as you hurry after them.

"Tell me, do you know of the Black Rage?"

One quickly says, grabbing your arm to nearly drag you along when you begin to slow. It hurts, but he's being gentle enough that it doesn't hurt badly enough to complain.

"Yes, Theo has told me."

The astartes nods as you all turn a corner.

"He is loosing himself to it. He is not fully gone yet but he is yelling our primarch's name; Yours as well," He continues. "We are guessing that if you're there, we might pull him out of it before it's too late."

You all eventually reach where ever Theo is, as the astartes here are piled up at the ready near the entrance.

"What happens if this doesn't work?"

You say- though you know the answer. If they put down men fallen to the Red Thirst, you don't imagine it is very much different with the Black Rage.

"He would get the Emperor's Mercy. It is all we can give him if he is lost.”

The thought of Theo being gone backs your chest tighten, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. You can’t lose him. Not to something like this.

"Come in, we have him restrained but, we aren't going to keep him like this for long. He deserves mercy if we cannot pull him back.”

You follow them in, and you instantly you hear it; The screaming.

"Horus! I will tear you to shreds! Don't touch them! Don't touch any of them!"

Theo is chained on his knees to the floor, ripping and pulling at the chains with every bit of his strength. He is an older, stronger Lamenter, the chains are creaking and groaning with each tug as the threaten to give under his raw strength. A few Lamenters are posted around the small room with bolters ready, fingers on the trigger.

"Theo?"

You quietly say to him, and the one astartes who had dragged you hear lets your aching arm go. Theo's attention instantly snaps to you, but it's almost as if he's looking through you.

"You're here? How are you? You have to leave! It is not safe here I must-"

You shake your head and come closer, despite the mutters of the other Lamenters not to. They want to keep your safety in mind next to an enraged, massive Lamenter, but even in your dizzying fear of him you just want to help him. You quell your shaking and move to him.

"Theo, don't look at them, look at me."

He's seeing ghosts in his brothers, his eyes are trained on them like enemies. Each movement they make pulls him away from you, and any calmness you give him is ruined at the sound of another Lamenter even just shifting in his armor.

"Can you all, can you all leave for a moment? He thinks you're the enemy." The look among each other, and debate it.

"Very well."

They move to leave, and you hear the door close behind them once they all file out. The door locks, and you're trapped in here with him. If anything goes wrong, you’re the first in his path.

"Theo, see? They're all gone."

His eyes are frantic, dark- they scan the room looking for enemies you can't see. You hear him muttering names under his breath you don’t recognize, besides the Angel Sanguinus.

Horus, he’s going to kill Horus,

"It's just me and you, like the last time you returned from duty and we had that time alone in your quarters?"

You hear his hearts racing you swear, and you can tell he's still half in that illusion the Rage is trapping him in. He shakes his head, wrinkled brow furrowing.

"I remember, I remember."

His eyes dart behind you and you quickly move to try and block whatever he thinks he sees. It works; You see him squeeze his eyes shut.

"He's not there. Nothing is there." You put a hand to his face.

"There's nothing here but me, Theo."

He takes a few more deep breaths, and you see the glaze on his face- that distant look - slowly fade away.

"You are here. When did you get here?" You laugh.

"Your brothers ran to get me when they saw you were succumbing to the Rage. They hoped I would be able to help."

He can't touch you with his hands chained towards the ground, but he can lean forward and let you put his forehead to your neck.

"You did help. I don't remember any of this day; I was about to be completely lost, wasn't I."

You pull back and nod at him. You push a hand over your eyes to wipe away any tears before they fall down your face.

"You were acting like your brothers were enemies." He hangs his head- not moments after being pulled from the brink of true insanity and he is already admonishing himself.

"You put yourself in danger to pull me from my own weakness. Why?"

Why wouldn't you? He is the light of your life, Theo is your entire world. You couldn't imagine a life without him.

"Because I wanted to." You give him a kiss to the scar on his nose.

"Can your brothers come and unchain you?" He nods, before yelling.

"Brothers. I am here. I can... I can be unchained."

They return, looking at Theo with no small bit of surprise. Even the one who dragged you here in a last ditch effort seemed shocked.

"You managed to pull him back from the Rage? I didn't think it would work." It didn't seem like many of them did. Though you suppose you can't be surprised. You don’t know if anyone has ever managed to delay the Black Rage.

They move to unchain him, and quickly he picks you up and holds you close to his chest. It’s a bit too tight pressed against cold ceramite, but you have zero desire to tell him that.

"Go get unarmored, Lieutenant Theo. Then perhaps today you have earned some rest." The captain looks to you, bundled in his arms.

"Your serf too. She helped us save a good brother."

Theo takes you with him to remove his armor, a deed you have never seen done before. You watch as each piece is pulled away one at a time, until the is only left in his black armoring suit. He removes that too, before covering his bare skin with a robe.

Once he is finished he picks you back up, and silently carries you to his quarters.

When you get there, he places you on the cot he calls his bed and climbs into it with you, dragging you around until you are firmly against his chest and unable to escape.

"I have no ways to say how much I am in debt to you. You have saved me from the Thirst an uncountable number of times, and now the Rage," You shake your head against his chest.

"Don't worry. I do it all because I love you. I’ll do it again, if you need me to.”

The metal of his interface ports digs into your skin, but you couldn't care less.

"I love you as well."

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello gorgeous! if you don't mind modern au, i have an idea. if you don't feel like writing anything it'd be great to hear your thoughts abt it. daemon x wife!reader (who's somehow connected with magic but not targaryen) who are devoted to each other like madly in love. before daemon has to go to war they're saying goodbyes kissing, crying and not being able to let the other go. feeling like something's off he says smth like "i'll find you in another life. i'll find you in any time we'll be existing. i will love you any time i am alive" (in high valyrian or calling her some name in it) kissing her knuckles and going away. unfortunately, he was right. reader died some way while he was away and he remains faithful to her for the rest of his life (oc but whatever) and in the modern world he does find her. maybe targaryens are some sort of royal family, maybe they keep a family business or an ordinary family with lots of relatives. but he fins the reader and they somehow just feel. sorry if it's too much. i'd really like to read something about it but it absolutely ok if you don't feel like it. thank u in advance! take care!

Waiting For A Lifetime

Part 1 2 3 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader cos it just sorta happened

Summary: Overcome by grief, Daemon turned to black magic to revive you. Moved by pity, the witch who casted the spell promised you would live until you met your love again in his next life.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Modern AU, fem!reader, mentions/depictions of death/still birth/war, my pretty boy aegon whom i would die for, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i saw this last night when i woke up in the middle of my sleep and couldn't stop thinking about it. I changed a lot about your req nonnie. I do hope you still like it though. I absolutely could not help myself with this one and I got so carried away T_T also a lot of facts about the Targaryens have distorted so just just just roll with it ok ok ok thank you And yes i know this is a gif from the crown but i love it so much the hat falling off the kiss ITS EVERYTHING I WANT TO BE HERRRRRRRRRRRRR also i do acknowledge the fact that this anon came to me with this idea after i reblogged this amazing moodboard sooooo yeah i think this post sparked this fic idea lol ALSO ALSO ALSO 2022 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! LOVE YA ALL imagine seeing this post in like 2032 or smth shit thats like 35 years from now Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony pssst i made p2 "Never Before"

Daemon's face was streaked with tears and sorrow. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice was as sure as it was grave as he repeated the word he uttered to the shaman, "anything."

She looked at him, able to taste the desperation in the air, "even if it costs your life, prince?"

Daemon looks at his love before him, his love that was carrying his child. He places his bloody palm on the gaping wound on her stomach.

"Your child will not live even if she does."

Daemon screws his eyes shut tightly. He begins to quiver in anger, in grief, in pure sorrow. He mutters, "anything," he slowly opens his eyes to gaze upon her lifeless face, "better it me than her. There is no world worth living without her."

The woman narrows her eyes at the prince. She knew he was the Targaryen, once heir, known to be rugged and harsh. The Rouge Prince. Yet, there was no trace of malice within his being, only what she would describe as true devotion, true love.

"So, may it be done by the gods old and new," she says, drawing the prince's attention to her, "I will plead for her soul that she may live."

Daemon watches the witch, as she stands to her feet from the ground they were both sprawled on, in front of the body of the dead woman.

"I will plead that she may live long enough to meet you again in another life, so that you may have the love you have now once more."

"Another life?"

"Yes," she says, "the gods recreate humans they are pleased with to grace the earth again. I am certain they will let you be reborn to be with her again. I will make it certain."

Daemon grabs the cold hand that was beginning to stiffen.

"Although, I am unsure if they will allow you to remember her."

"I will remember her," Daemon retorts, kissing the hand of his love, "I will remember her no matter form I take... I will, I must."

"So it remains to be seen," she says before speaking out her incantation.

And it would not be seen until nearly 2000 years later.

The times have changed drastically. Women wore pants and voted. Men where made to take more responsibility for their actions, though still got away with things.

And yet...

... my love for him never faded.

Every prince that was born and named Daemon, I hoped would finally be him. It went about like this century after century, war after war, plague after plague, rise after fall. I had feared the Targaryens would die out, but they proved to be as strong as the very foundations of the earth.

And it took the televised of the marriage of Viserys XXIX to Duchess Aemma of Eyrie for me to see the face of my love: Daemon, the Wild Child, the Knight of Knickers, as penned by the press. Ultimately, the prince of my heart.

I burst into tears when I saw his cheeky face as he nudged his brother at the isle. I pressed my hands on the screen, thinking to myself, the wait was finally over, he was finally here.

All that was left was for me to meet the Prince of Valyria.

Yes. That would be no problem at all.

Except it was, because Daemon was just as mad as he was in this life as he was in the last.

After all, he did not get those nicknames from the press for nothing.

I used up so many of my resources to even just get a glimpse of him. It was hard to catch him in one place. I mostly caught him with a scandalous headline in the cover of magazines and newspapers.

Tonight, it was a newspaper.

"You know," the bartender taps his finger on my newspaper that was sprawled out on his bar, "he's a frequent here."

I turn to the blonde, in his white dress shirt, black waist apron, and black slacks. I raise a brow as he purses his lips as though the information was ground breaking. He wipes on a glass with his blue towel.

"Gee, Aegon," I lean on the surface before me, "I would have never guessed that from the picture on the wall."

I nod at the said picture. It's one of Daemon and the current owner of the bar, Tywin Lannister, who also happened to own Lannister Land Corp, shaking hands. Oh, Lannisters.

"Hey," Aegon shrugs, pulling his lips down in a nuff-said manner, "it had to be said, since you're literally the only patron here that has not interrogated me with questions about the Knight of Knickers."

I snort, "then allow me to change that," I rest my head on my hand, "is he truly so dashing that his looks practically steal the knickers of the ladies around him?"

Aegon finishes buffing his glass and puts it down, looking up in thought, "mmm, I think it's mostly cause he's a prince that he's got the effect he's got. I've got no idea what possessed the first girl to throw her panties at him."

I giggle, "are you saying the prince is ugly?"

"Bit harsh, innit," Aegon pulls back, getting another glass, rubbing it down with his towel, "your words, not mine."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head, as I laugh at the light haired boy's muses, "you know, if we had been living at the height of the Targaryen rule, Daemon would have had your head for that, pretty boy."

"Gods, to be beheaded," he sighed, "a dream, rather than working here, taking about some monarch who lives off the money of the people."

I snort once more. Aegon's face softens as he breaks into a laugh himself.

"No, but honestly," he says putting down the glass and the towel, "you, my dear, are my saving grace. The highlight of my begrudgingly stretched out day," he stretches out a hand to me.

I chuckle at him as I take his hand. He presses a kiss on the back of it, making me grin at him in amusement.

"You're the only sane person here," he releases my hand, "everyone else is so desperate to brush shoulders with the prince, or simply even catch a of whiff of his flatulence."

I break out into a fit of chuckles, slamming firmly at the wood between us.

"No, I'm serious! I heard the fittest gal, a total bombshell, boasting with pride about how she managed a sniff of the bloke's fart."

I'm wheezing with laughter, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Aegon releases a deep and dramatic sigh, "what has the world come to?"

I wipe a tear as Aegon watches me empty myself of laughter. His face crinkles in a pleased expression, Adam's apple bobbing as he chuckles airily.

I sigh, catching my breath, "well, if I ever become that desperate, I ask that you pray for my soul."

Aegon presses his palms together, "praying for that girl as we speak."

I chuckle, folding the newspaper before me, "I must say, I am actually desperate to meet the wild child myself."

Aegon drops his hands along with his humored expression.

I cannot help but laugh at him as I continue to fold the paper, "though, I would say I am the desperate kind that is so desperate..." I eye him as I press the grey material together, "that I, somehow, dread to meet him at all."

Aegon snorts, screwing his eyes shut as he wipes his face, "the Stranger. Don't say things like that! I nearly had a heart attack believing you."

"No, but it's true, Aegon!" I say with a faux wounded pout, "prince Daemon is my great love, we have been destined to meet for millennia!"

Aegon leans on the table, humming as he nodds his head, "yes, and I suppose I am Aegon the Conqueror."

I lean towards him and grab his jaw, "no, you look more like Aegon II. The spitting image, I dare say."

He scoffs, swatting me off, "I'm hotter than him."

I pull away, "yes. That I can agree with, pretty boy. Personal hygiene does wonders."

Aegon snorts and plays off the blush on his cheeks by wiping his nose with his thumb, "you speak as though you met him."

I straighten up, "that's because I have. He was once my nephew."

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. His face contorts at the thought.

I raise my brows at him, "have I not told you I am not only a Targaryen historian, an expert at that, but I am also a patron of the Museum of Ice and Fire? I'm married into their family."

"Okay," he raises a finger, "ew."

I snort.

Aegon lifts his jaw and hums, "well, now that you mentioned it, I always knew you were one of those insanely rich blokes who frequent here. I was thinking you were a mafia boss or something though."

I scoff in amusement, raising my brows at him.

He pushes his white sleeves up then raises his hand in defense, "you have a very intense aura about you."

"That's because you trigger my fight mode," I retort.

He huffs, "do I? I'm scared to know what you'll do to me when I've seen what you do to men who hit on you."

"Aww, don't worry," I coo, "I wouldn't hurt my pretty, baby boy."

Aegon doesn't get to reply when a customer calls his attention. With this, he pulls away and leaves me to my own devices.

We don't get to continue our conversation at all, for it was clear that the rush hour had begun.

I eventually pulled back and decided to entertain myself while my favorite bartender was busy. I swiveled on my stool, looking out to the room, spotting the jukebox collecting dust in the corner. I smile at the sight of it, thinking about how it was still here after all these years, in spite of being older than Aegon.

I stand from my seat and walk over to it.

Aegon, finding one patron missing, frantically looks around then calms, raising a brow.

I place my hands on the jukebox, bending over to check if it was plugged in.

Aegon snorts as he hands a man a beer, eyes not at all fixed on him, "that doesn't work, love."

"Mmm, ye of little faith."

Aegon is annoyed by the man that sits on the vacated stool, blocking his vision. In retaliation, he blocks out the sound of his voice. Aegon calls out, "if you can make that hunkajunk work, I'll clear your tab for you."

I chuckle as I pull the machine forward, checking its wiring, "I wouldn't want to make a kid working on minimum wage to pay for me at all."

"I only said I would clear your tab, doll face," is all he replies before he goes back to tending to drinks again.

I break into chuckles as I fiddle with the wires on the back. I admit, it took me quite a while to go through everything, which was why Aegon warned that he would not call an ambulance for me if I got electrocuted.

The sight of the jukebox coming to life was enough to shut him up.

I get to my feet with a huff, brushing my hands off with each other. I turn to Aegon, who was already looking at me in astonishment, along with a few other people in the room.

I smirk, "my tab then?"

"Good as gone," Aegon shakes his head in disbelief, cutting his hand across his neck.

I release a satisfied sigh as I punch at the hardened buttons and play whatever it was that was available to be played.

When the music starts, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off with the music. The sound brings back some memories I had in the 1940's. If I recall correctly, it was around this time Daemon's father, King Baelon, was crowned.

I slowly moved to the rhythm of the song, swaying my hips, waving my extended arms out as I made my way to the center of the room.

Aegon stilled in his spot upon seeing this. His breath caught in his throat and he was only brought back to reality when someone demanded a gin. He looked around the room as he poured that idjit his drink and clenched his jaw tightly when he saw the onlooking crowd.

He snorts loudly, grabbing his towel, throwing it over his shoulder roughly, clearing his throat with more noise than necessary.

I smile to myself when I hear Aegon's familiar coughing. He had a tendency to do this whenever men around me started to be a bother. And I loved him dearly for it. He was a sweet boy.

With my eyes still closed, I continue dancing to the soothing song. My smile grows bigger when a section comes that tickles my musical senses. I chuckle as I twirl in my spot.

When I felt a hand come to my waist, I didn't have to open my eyes to know it was Aegon. He wouldn't have let anyone come near me at all without barking up a storm.

I hummed at the scent of him, familiar yet foreign to me at once. He must have changed his cologne. I prefer this one better. He pulls me close when I reach out to him, grabbing one of his hands and placing a palm on his shoulder. His dress shirt is softer than what I imagined it to be.

I am surprised when he leads us into a ballroom dance. In fact, I am so shocked, I open my eyes and see a blur of his white shirt and blonde hair as he spins me around.

I break into a fit of chuckles, screwing my eyes shut in pure bliss when he dips me, "I had no idea you were a dancer, pretty boy."

"Yes, well, journalists don't find it interesting enough to write about."

My eyes burst open at the sound of the deep voice.

My heart is pounding at the sight of the smirking man with silver hair. I nearly faint at the violet irises so close to mine.

"I do say," his hot breath fans on my face, "if we were spotted by one now, they'd have a field day."

I jolt upright and shove the man away. He doesn't seem to be offended by my harsh actions, and, in fact, chuckles as he reels back from my action, "not what I had expected and not the reaction I usually get, but there's a first for everything."

My breath hitches when he smiles at me. I turn from him, to Aegon, who was staring coldly from his place behind the bar. It seems the rest of the people here were doing the same as well, gobsmacked by the presence of the man in the middle of the room

I roll my shoulders back, turning to my dance partner, "Prince Daemon," I mutter, bowing my head slowly, "pardon my rudeness."

He chuckles, waving me off as he stuffs a hand in his pocket, "oh, no need to be so formal, my dear. I can understand the shock," he tilts his head at me, lips still curved, "you surely weren't expecting to be dancing with the prince and thought me to be someone else, no?"

I look at him and stare in silence. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.

Everything was suddenly so real, and it was making my mind and my heart race.

Aegon watches this and clears his throat loudly.

It does not help anyone.

Daemon raises his brows at me in expectation, placing his other hand in his pocket as he leans on one leg.

I open my mouth. A second passes before I mutter, "I thought you were my pretty boy."

His lips spread into a toothy grin. Airy chuckles leave him, "I can be your pretty boy."

When he extends his hand out to me, it was like the heavens opened and I could hear the angels sing.

This was the moment I have been waiting for since that day that I came back to life and kissed him goodbye with a promise of finding him in his next one.

My breath was heavily taxed when I lifted my hand.

My soul nearly leaves me when I jolt in shock over the sound of a record scratching and jumping, repeating over and over again.

In that moment, I am hit by an epiphany. I am so overwhelmed with emotions that I could barely breathe. The sight of Daemon before me brought tears to my eyes. This was all I ever wanted, and yet-- and yet-- I was drowning. I could not breathe properly.

"I..." I shudder, making Daemon's face fall, "I have to go," I mutter through a strained breath.

Daemon knits his brows, shifting in his spot with his hand still out, "what?"

Aegon watched with tightly knit brows as I ran out of the room.

The prince drops his hand and spins on his heels, eyes locked on the runaway. His nostrils flare as his face contorts in confusion, "wait! Stop! Where are you going?!"

I heave heavily as I push past people on my way out. I am absolutely winded when I exit the establishment, hands shivering from both the cold and the nerves that were getting to me in this moment.

I walk aimlessly farther out, down to the lawn that was now dark, since it was gods-know-what hour.

"Wait!"

My heart drops.

I spin around when someone grabs my wrist. My heart is still quick in my chest when I see Daemon, heaving. His short, light hair was slightly tousled in its place. He knits his brows at me, tilting his head, "you dare leave your prince, Cinderella?"

My jaw hangs low.

He releases a sigh, shaking his head, "I forbid it."

Seeing him here and now made everything feel more Real with a capital R.

Daemon adjusts his grip on my wrist, pulling his hand back, so that he was now holding my hand.

I look at him, blinking the glassiness of my eyes away, still in shock of his presence. A million questions were running through my head, and I was glad to be able to even have the mind to ask one in this moment, "do you know me, Daemon?"

He tilts his head upon hearing this, brows knitting, lips curving. He releases a chuckle at the lack of formality and how haphazard the question was, but finds himself further drawn because of it, "no," he shakes his head, "but I would love to know you."

Hearing the words come out of his mouth shatters something in me.

He did not know me.

I turn away from him as I try to even my breath. I retreat my hand and step back as a shiver runs down my spine.

And yet here he was, chasing after me.

Daemon steps forward to make up for the space between us, "don't leave. Come back inside with me. I'll give you my coat, then you can boast that the prince of Valyria gave it to you."

I continue stepping back as I shake my head, "you don't understand," I mutter under my breath in High Valyrian.

"Then make me understand," he retorts in the same tongue with a chuckle as he shakes his head and takes a wide stride over to me, grabbing my hand again.

I gasp at the warmth of his touch. When I turn back to him, tears have finally fallen from my eyes.

Daemon's face hardens at the sight of it. His hand reaches out to my face, wiping the wetness away. The sight of his torn expression tears at me, bringing me more tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asks in High Valyrian.

I do not get to reply, as suddenly there is a loud burst from behind us, commanding both our attentions.

It's Aegon. He busted through the door with my things in his hand. Upon catching the sight of the two of us, he freezes, breathing heavily as the looks out.

Daemon's expression hardens; his grip on me tightens. He turns to me, jealousy coating his mouth when he catches I where I am looking, "is that your pretty boy?"

I do not reply to him as Aegon walks over.

Daemon pulls me close to him. I look up at him with teary eyes. Aegon looks between us, jaw tense as he hands me my bag, coat, and newspaper.

"Thank you, bartender," Daemon dismisses, patting Aegon on the shoulder, before turning from him to face me again.

When I catch Aegon's face, I finally have the wits to move.

I pull away from Daemon to put my coat on. I swallow a heavy lump in my throat at feel of the stares of the two men.

Once I have my coat on, I pull a card from my bag, handing it to Daemon. He wastes no time in taking it from me, immediately scrutinizing it.

"I'd..." I start, taking a deep breath, "like to see you again."

Daemon's eyes dart to me, breaking into a smile.

Butterflies explode in my stomach at the sight of him.

Aegon's face tenses.

I release a breath before asking, "when are you fr-"

"Whenever," Daemon blurts. He places the card in the breast pocket of his white shirt, "I'm free whenever."

I nod slowly at his words, "I have work tomorrow, but I do have a long lunch at 12-

"I'll call you a 11:55."

I purse my lips at his words, trying to hold back my chuckle, but failing, "11:55?"

Daemon grins, nodding once, "on the dot."

I chuckle, turning to my feet as I nod at his words, "11:55 then."

"On the dot," he nods, extending a hand out to rub his thumb on my cheek.

I turn to him just as Daemon pulls away and stuffs his hands back in his pockets, "I'll walk you."

I shake my head, turning to Aegon, who was still standing there, watching the whole interaction between us, "you don't have to. I have a car parked nearby."

"Then I'll walk you to your car."

I turn back to Daemon, who then offers his arm out to me. I smile, unable to deny him, or myself, of the offer. I take his arm, and the next moment, he leads us off.

I turn over my shoulder, raising a hand at Aegon while I offer him a smile, "see you, Aegon."

Aegon watches as I turn back.

There is a twisted feeling inside him that grows. He mutters softly. It is too soft for anyone but himself to hear, "see you."

[livingdreams97]

Eloise Bridgerton - "The Prince" (Part 1)

Eloise Bridgerton x Male reader/oc

Summary: Two people who have never seen each other before, with the same need and desire to be free in different ways. What could come of that when both people meet each other?

Words: 3.983

NEXT

Masterlist

POV Narrator

In a castle located three hours from the center of London, two men are in a meeting and in a somewhat heated discussion. One of the men is in his late 40s, while the other much younger looking man is in his 23s.

XY: You will go to the palace with your aunt and you will participate in this year's social season.- declares the older of both.

XY2: You can't do this to me father.- denies the youngest . -You can't force me to look for a wife.- the son denies.

XY: I'm not forcing you to look for a wife, just to participate in the social season and look for someone to love.- he claims to his son. -You are twenty-three years old and  at your age, I was already married to your mother and already had your brother.- he reproached him, causing the young man to cross his arms.

Y/n: But I don't want to get married, I want to travel and see the world.- he comments getting up from the chair. -I want to get to know different cultures, learn languages and see places that most people can only dream of.- he says walking through the office.

XY: And you will.- he assures her calmly. -But once you find someone, you fall in love and get married.- he dictates, continuing with his writing.

Y/n: And who assures me of that, father.- he says passing his hand through his almond-blonde hair. -We both know that as soon as I get married, I'll have to take care of my wife and start producing heirs. When will I travel ? - he asks the older man.

XY: I assure you that you will travel.- he says looking back at his only living heir. -What do you think if we make a deal?- he offers leaving the pen in its container

Y/n: What deal?- he asks interested, sitting back in the dark blue suede chair in front of his father's desk.

XY: If you manage to fall in love and get married this season, you will be able to travel around the world for 6 months and I myself will pay for your travel expenses. In addition to that, I promise to give you a house, wherever you want as a wedding gift to you and your wife; without the need for you to generate heirs immediately.- the father offers and this captures the attention and interest of the child.

Y/n: But ... - He begins by meeting his father.

XY: You will have to be really in love, you will show me your love for her and your aunt has to give you the go-ahead.- he finishes speaking. -What do you say, do w have a deal? - he questions his son.

Y/n: Okay.- the youngest nods with a sigh, allowing the light curls on his head to bounce subtly and his father to notice it.

XY: So tomorrow morning you will go to the palace, where you will stay with your uncles and before leaving you will receive a haircut.- He points out his son's slightly long hair.

Y/n: Yes father.- accept tired. - Can I retire to my room now? - he asks and the father nods.

XY: Make sure you have all the clothes ready first thing in the morning.- he reminds him as the young man leaves the office.

And that's what happens the next day. After a haircut and loading the suitcases into the family's navy blue carriage. Father and son say goodbye with a hug, before the youngest gets on the carriage and it sets off towards the palace.

Dear readers,

Have you missed me? Because here I am once again, ready to talk and comment on the events of this new season.

While our respected high society was enjoying their country retreat once more, this author did only one thing: polish my art. Or should I say hatching my plans? No, even better. I was sharpening my knives even more and collecting information.

Apparently, a few hours after the debuts of this season, two luxurious-looking carriages have arrived at the palace and they were loaded with abundant luggage.

Could it be that the queen will host a debutant or debutante of the royal family this season, as she did  with her nephew Prince Friedrich of Prussia?

On the other hand, Queen Charlotte has once again done something unexpected and has renamed Edwina Sharma as the diamond this season. It will be that she is not happy with the failure of last season with her diamond, that she is trying to remedy the situation and regain her credibility when choosing the diamond of the season.

We also have the Bridgertons to congratulate, as the Viscount and Viscountess have just welcomed their first heir with open arms. And they will not only celebrate the birth of the little girl, but also the debut of two Bridgertons more. Will the matriarch of the family be capable of directing and helping three children at the same time in search of a partner?

It only remains to wait and see everything that this season has in store for us. What mysteries and secrets our high society hides that they do not want to be known.

Always yours,

Lady Whistledown.

POV YOU

I listen to what my aunt reads aloud as we eat dinner, watching disgust and anger fill every feature of her face. I look at my cousin Friedrich , who continues having dinner and not giving importance to what is being read .

Charlotte: How dare that woman question my ability to select, I am the one who created the idea of the diamond and I have not failed even once, until last season. - she grumbles, leaving the newspaper with force on the table.

Y/n:  Aunt, don't give importance to that gossip newspaper, they are not important and you are one of the most capable and intelligent women I know.- I assure her with a slight smile.

Charlotte: You will see my dear nephew Y/n, I appreciate your sincere and encouraging words.- she tells me with a small smile. -But if the people believe what this woman writes, my past successes don't matter, much less if it only reflects my only failure.- she explains and I frown at her annoyance.

Friederich: You are the queen, ignore it and the rest of the town will too.- he comments without much interest.

Charlotte: What I will do is use your presence, to relax the atmosphere and make sure that everything goes well.- she comments with confidence.

Friederich: And what do you plan to do with our presence?- questions with confusion, although I already understand it and I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to like the idea.

Charlotte: You are both here with the intention of finding a woman, therefore I can ensure that one of both of you ends up with my diamond and thus recover the full respect of the town.- she answers and I bite my lip.

Y/n: Aunt, you know that I respect you and that I never disagree with you.- I start a little unsure. -But I'm sure you know my father's opinion regarding marriage and that you only have to marry for love.- I remind her and see how she tries not to smile.

Charlotte: I know my dear Y/n.- she assures me with a certain tenderness in her eyes when she looks at me. -That is why I have decided that Friederich is the one who is interested in my diamond, maybe even something real will come out of this.- she says and I nod in gratitude.

It's not that I really want to marry for love, a few years ago I would be happy to find someone to fall in love with and marry.

But seven years ago my opinion changed and I have not wanted to fall in love and get married since then. When I was 13 years old, my brother had an accident riding a horse in a race and died. My mother went into anger and depression over the loss of her first child.

Two months after the loss of my brother, my mother could not continue and died of sadness. So only my father and I stayed.

I saw my father mourn the loss of my brother, trying to cheer up my mother in her depression and soon after also mourning the loss of my mother. I saw him suffer every day since my brother's death and for another year after my mother's death.

I saw how sad and broken he was when he lost the love of his life. The house was no longer the same, without my brother's laughter or absurd comments, everything felt silent. In addition to the fact that the warmth and happiness that my mother radiated had been replaced by the coldness of her lack.

That's why I stopped wanting to find someone to fall in love with and marry. Because I had seen what the loss of my mother did to my father and how it felt to lose two of the most important people in my life.

So at fourteen I decide to renege on marriage, preferring to remain single and not get close to another person in a sentimental way. But now there's my father's offer, and it's an offer I can't refuse.

I have always wanted to travel and see the world. But my father has never left me, saying that it was irresponsible to go on a trip and leave my chores behind. Although now that my father offers me 6 months of travel around the world, expenses paid and a house to be independent; I can't refuse the offer.

Especially when as soon as he could, my father sent me to university in Manchester and having finished my degree in natural sciences and its use in medicine, along with some medical courses; he wanted to enjoy traveling to find and study new plants as well.

But just because I accepted the offer doesn't mean I'm going to marry for love. But I will try to find a woman, who really does not want to get married; but do not want to stay single and be separated by society.

Friederich: If you think it's the best option, I agree to help her and meet the diamond of the season.- he accepts, causing her to let out a sigh.

Charlotte: Well, I hope you dress as well as possible, because in a few hours the guests will arrive and it's the first initiation dance.- she warns us seriously. -In this first dance I am the hostess and it will be your presentation.- she says and we both nod in agreement.

Friederich: I'll put on my best suit.- he nods puffing out his chest.

Charlotte: One last thing, Y/n Lady Danbury will take care of your introduction into society and will help you in the dances.- she tells me and I nod. -She has more experience and can better help you find a woman.- she explains with a loving smile.

Y/n: Thank you for thinking about my needs aunt.- I thank you with a smile.

Charlotte: I always will Y/n, besides that Lady Danbury is hosting another season at the Sharma and so it will be easier for Friederich and Edwina to get to know each other.- she explains to both of us.

Shortly after, we finish dinner and everyone heads to their rooms. I decide to wear black pants, with a morning suit of the same color with gold buttons and shiny black shoes.

I decide to wear a white shirt, with a navy morning suit and a white Byron tie. I look at myself in the mirror in my bedroom, making sure everything is in place and my hair is neat. ( He has the same hair as Theo , but with a little more curl.)

I grab the white gloves and leave the room after taking a deep breath. I descend the stairs, putting on my gloves and listening to the music from the ballroom in the background.

XY: Sir, Your Majesty requires your presence.- He warns me and I nod with a smile.

I follow the servant, entering the ballroom and immediately feeling the curious eyes of those present on me . I keep my gaze fixed, never taking it away from my aunt and the woman with the cane at her side.

Charlotte: Dear, how good that you have arrived.- she greets me with a smile. -You remember Lady Danbury right? - she asks pointing her head at the woman next to her.

Y/n: Of course I remember her aunt.- I nod with a smile. -It's a pleasure to see you again Lady Danbury.- I greeted taking her hand and leaving a polite kiss on the back of the hand. - You are as beautiful as six years ago.- I compliment her with education .

Lady Danbury was very close to my mother, so from time to time she always traveled to our house and paid us little visits. But after my mother died, her visits became shorter and less frequent.

Until after an argument with my father, because of how he was mourning and his way of focusing on work without showing me affection or support, it happened.

After that discussion, my father asked him to stop coming and that if he wanted to keep in touch with me he could only do so by letters; and so it has been for the past six years.

Danbury: As flattering as always prince Y/n.- smiles making me a bow. -It will be a pleasure to be your supervisor this season.- she assures me with a smile.

Y/n: The pleasure will be mine Lady Danbury.- I assure her politely. -It is said that her role in the Duke's marriage was crucial.- I comment and she smiles holding on to my arm.

Danbury: It was and now I'll get you a wife.- she tells me with certainty. -If you'll excuse us, Your Majesty, I have to expose this boy and introduce him to several possible debutantes.- she says goodbye to the queen and pulls my arm.

We start to walk around the room, while she talks to me about each newcomer we pass by and giving me her opinion about them.

From one moment to the next, she lets out a small exclamation of emotion and pulls our joined arms with a little more force.

Eloise's POV

I can't believe my mom dragged me into this for another year and even less after what happened last season. I very much doubt that any man wants to marry the woman who goes to the market alone and joins companies with radical political ideas.

After what Lady Whistledown wrote about me, or rather; what Penelope wrote, everyone looks at me badly and the scandal did not bring my family much good fortune.

But as much as I have refused, my mother has forced me to participate again for another year and this time telling me that I have to really try. She will even force me to have two complete dances, complete dances with someone other than my brothers or she will take away my books and all my liberties.

I haven't even managed to convince her, saying that she can't supervise Francesca, Colin and me at the same time; and that I would take work away from her by not showing up this season.

But nothing, she has not accepted and has put aside every reasoning I have given her for not making my debut.

And that brings us to this moment. To the first ball in the palace, where as soon as we have entered the door the eyes of almost all the guests are on us and the looks on me are not entirely positive.

Violet: Look there is Lady Danbury.- my mother comments with emotion, but I only look around and I meet the gaze of my old best friend.

I keep looking at her with all the resentment in the world, remembering all the damage she has done to my family and especially to me. I still can't believe that she is Lady Whistledown and was able to write that way about me: her best friend since childhood.

I pay attention to my mother again, when I feel how she pinches my arm and I complain, caressing the area.

Violet: And this is my other daughter Eloise Bridgerton .- introduces me and I look away from my now enemy, finding Lady Danbury with a boy by her side.

XY: A pleasure to meet you all, Lady Danbury often talks about you Lady Bridgerton and always in very high esteem.- He greets her by kissing the back of her hand, as with my sister and approaching to do the same with me.

Violet: I hope so.- she jokes with him.

I just watch as the unknown man gently takes my hand and brings it to his lips while staring into my eyes. After kissing my hand, he gives me a smile and politely lets go of my hand.

Danbury: From what I see, dear friend, this season we will both be very busy.- she comments to my mother and I looked at her with confusion . -You supervising your three children debuting and I supervising Edwina Sharma and Prince Y/n of Hannover here present.- she comments amused and I open my eyes, impressed in the most hidden way possible.

Violet: Oh, so you're going to debut too? - asks my impressed mother to the prince.

Y/n: That's the idea, my father thought that it's the right time to start looking for that special person so I can get married.- he answers with a perfect smile; iugh what a rage of a man.

Violet: It seems to me that your father is quite right, finding a special person to fall in love with and thus be able to get married takes time.- she comments and I can see a certain citric expression on his face, but it's barely perceptible and covers it very fine with a smile

Y/n: It's the same thing he says.- He nods agreeing.

Danbury: Why don't you invite Miss Eloise to a dance, dear.- she suggests and I want to deny it immediately, but I see the look my mother gives me.

Violet: I think it's a great idea.- she supports her friend with a huge smile.

Y/n: I suppose that if Miss Eloise accepts I won't have any problem dancing with her.- he assures looking at me with a small smile and extending his hand.

Violet: She doesn't have any problem, right daughter?- she asks me with a smile between her teeth.

Eloise: No, I would love to dance with you, my lord.- I assure him, bowing slightly and accepting his hand.

Y/n: Perfect, so if you'll excuse us, there's a dance floor and a dance waiting for us.- he tells those present with a kind smile and guides me towards the dance floor.

We were immediately on the dance floor, with one of his hands on my waist and the other connected to mine. While my free hand rests on his shoulder and a new song begins.

Eloise: I have to apologize in advance for stomping on you during the dance.- I repeat what my mother has dictated to me so many times before each dance.

Y/n: It's okay, not everything in this life tries to dance perfectly and in sync.- He downplays it by starting to move. -And tell me, is it your first season?- he asks while we dance and I count the steps.

Eloise: Don't talk or I'll get involved with the steps.- I order, looking down at my feet.

Y/n: It's easier to look at your dance partner than at your feet.- he assures me with a certain amused tone. -If you only look at your feet, you'll end up skipping a step and you won't be able to continue counting the steps.- he explains with evident experience.

Eloise: Perhaps the Prince of Hannover had problems with dancing.- I scoffed with a bit of venom.

Y/n: Well yes and I'm not ashamed of it.- he admits standing up. -The dances and some other points of the social events seem too banal and unnecessary for a day to day .- he explained and I looked at his eyes completely surprised.

Eloise: What? - I ask completely surprised, I would never imagine that someone from royalty, much less the queen's nephew, would think something like that about social events.

Y/n: The fact that i'm part of the royal family does not mean that i do not have my own ideas and that I agree with everything that is done in these events.- he comments without much interest. -Besides, the dances are supposed to meet and connect, which is absurd since there is nothing better than a conversation to get to know someone.- He defends his point of view and I couldn't agree more .

Eloise: Then why are you participating as a debutante and dancing with me right now? - I ask with a frown.

Y/n: I guess for the same reason as you.- he answer directly.

Eloise: And what do you know about my debut.- I say defensively.

Y/n: People like to talk, Miss Bridgerton, besides that your disgusted face and little interest in dancing are clear signs that you 're not making your debut for fun.- he explains and I purse my lips a bit annoyed for how fast he has read me; and for what he will have heard from me.

Eloise: What have you heard about me?- I ask him in a somewhat aggressive way.

Y/n: The dance is over.- he says separating from me . -It looks like we'll have to continue this conversation at another time, Miss Bridgerton .- he comments, leaving another kiss on the back of my hand and guiding me back to my mother. -I return your daughter Lady Bridgerton in one piece.- he tells my mother politely.

Violet: I thank you my lord.- she thanks him and the prince makes a small bow and walks away from us. -How was the dance with the prince? - she asks me excited.

Eloise: Incredible mother, dancing with the prince has been such a compliment, it has been a dream come true and now I can die in peace. - I exaggerate ironically and she looks at me challengingly.

Benedict: He seems like a nice guy.- he comments with our mother. -Besides, he's endured a whole dance with our sister and it doesn't look like he's complained about her stomping.- he comments amused, causing Colin to laugh and for me to hit him on the arm.

Eloise: I haven't stepped on it.- I deny immediately in my defense.

Colin: Yes, you have.- he assures me with confusion and amusement . -You've stepped on him like five times at least.- he points out and I open my eyes surprised at not having noticed.

Benedict: We were betting on how many more stomps the poor man would put up with.- he comments laughing with our brother.

Violet: Stop talking nonsense and laughing at your sister.- she tells them seriously. -Now Benedict, help your sister socialize and you Colin; you come with me.- she orders us.

Eloise: And Francesca? - I ask confused not seeing my little sister.

Violet: Your brother Anthony has offered to help her this season with me. - she tells me and I nod in understanding. -Now move all of you.- she says and after grabbing our brother's arm she disappears.

Benedict: Let's go around and discuss some of the ridiculous dresses and accessories of your competitors.- he mocks, offering me his arm and I delightedly grab it with mine.

Benedict is my favorite brother, because he always follows my jokes and he is the person with whom I feel most comfortable to talk about anything. I have always felt a greater connection with him than with any of my other siblings.

As we walk around the room, talking about some of the tacky dresses and hideous costumes of the other debutantes at the ball. I can't help replaying my conversation with the prince during the dance in my head, trying to figure out what he meant by his words and what he knows about me

[starogeorgina]

Heart of glass

Warning: Smut, swearing

Pairing: Helaena Targaryen × OC

1.03

You look between Princess Rhaenyra and your father in disbelief. “She wants me to marry Prince Aemond?”

Rhaenyra nods. “Yes, she would like to announce the betrothal in a fortnight.”

You open your mouth but don’t get the chance as your father tosses his cup at the wall, causing both you and Rhaenyra to jump before you can protest. With his head tilted down, he presses his clenched fists against the table. “I will not allow that one-eyed cunt anywhere near my daughter,” he hisses, looking directly at Rhaenyra. “Do you remember what happened after Laena’s funeral? To even suggest such a betrothal is an insult.” Your father goes to the fireplace and retrieves his sword from the dark sister that is hanging above it. “I will go to King's Landing myself and—”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra says, shaking her head. “Going to the red to keep angry isn’t the solution; there will be a better way to handle this. We must reject this proposal without being offensive.”

Your father scoffs, “as Alicent did when she rejected the offer of marrying Jacaerys to Helaena.”

Your jaw clenches. Alicent had the opportunity to marry her sweet girl to someone who would treat her far better than Aegon, but out of spite, she married her to a drunken fool who ignored her most of the time.

Rhaenyra takes hold of your father's arm, and he slowly lowers his sword to his side. Shaking her head, she says, “We mustn’t be offensive because it will be Vissera that the greens take their anger out on.”

“I’d like to see them fucking try.”

You shrug, “Inform the queen I'm already betrothed to another.”

Rhaenyra offers you a small smile while your father rolls his eyes. “And who is your purpose, I say is your intended?” He asks. “You’ve rejected every suitor that has asked for your hand.”

“That’s not true.”

“What?” Your father asks, looking unimpressed. “Why haven’t you informed me of this before? Who has asked for your hand?”

Rhaenyra looks unimpressed by her husband's sarcasm. “Is there any man in particular you’d like to marry?”

The moment becomes slightly awkward as you remain silent. What did she expect you to say? Aside from one, everyone who had asked for your hand was far too old and desperately wanted to marry someone with the blood of the dragon to add more power to their house. You finally reply, “Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell, has asked for my hand.”

Rhaenyra stands behind your father and rubs at his shoulder. She sighs, “This is why you came to Dragonstone, isn’t it?”

Your father clicks his tongue and says, “And here I thought it was to pay me a visit.”

“Why would I? You don’t even write to me,” you scoff, “but yes, I came to get my father's blessing.”

Your father sits down again and motions for you to do the same. “I suggest we have a proper discussion and come to a decision before we reply to those Hightower cunts.”

—

“You’d think a lady with so many admirers wouldn’t look so sour.”

You roll your eyes at Jace’s comment. You were enjoying the solitude of being in one of the chambers overlooking Dragonstone, but Rhaenyra and Jacaerys found you. “Daemon has already sent a raven north to accept Lord Stark's proposal and is currently writing to Alicent to inform her you are already betrothed.”

“I haven’t been north since I was a girl; I barely remember meeting Cregan.”

"Well, you certainly made an impression, and a good one at that,” Rhaenyra smiles. “Who did you travel north with?”

Her question stung; it was moments like this that reminded you that the princess knew so little about you. “My cousin Gerold Royce and his lady wife. Speaking of him, I’d like to return to Runestone myself and inform him myself of this bethrothel.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” she smiles. “You should ask one of your siblings to join you; it would be nice for them to see where you grew up.”

Rhaenyra probably meant for Baela and Rhaena to join you, but another idea crossed your mind. You turn to Jacaerys and ask, “Will you join me, my prince?”

“You want me to go with you?” He asks, surprised.

“Why not?” You shrug. “It would only be for one or two nights, and you will be heir to the throne one day. It would be good for the future king to see all the places he’ll be ruling over.”

Jace looks hesitant. It suddenly occurred to you that the prince had never traveled without his family before. You force a smile and say, “Sorry, it was a bad idea.”

Rhaenyra places her hand on your shoulder. “I’ll ask the maester to change Jacaerys afternoon lessons to the morrow instead of the afternoon. I think it will be good for my son to see more of the seven kingdoms. That is, if he wishes to go.”

Jace smiles and says, “I think it would be fun. It would be good to see where Vissera grew up.”

—

You stroke Helaena's hair as she lays with her head resting on your bare stomach. The grass beneath you was surprisingly soft, and the hill you were on was on an isolated island, so you had the freedom to be together out in the open without disturbance. Your eyes were heavy, as tiredness from your previous orgasms had taken a lot out of you.

Wordless, Helaena put a hand on your breast, then bent to take a nipple in her mouth. Her other hand drifted down across the soft curve of your belly, then, in between your legs, she smirked, feeling your wetness. “You’ve enjoyed being out in the open more than I anticipated,” she giggles before sinking a finger into you and then rubbing her thumb over your clit. “I’d never tire of seeing you like this.”

“Gods, it’s too much! I’m too sensitive!”

“You can give me another,” Helaena says before sliding another finger into you.

When she feels your cunt starting to clench around her, she pulls her fingers out and sucks them into her mouth. She hooks one leg over and rubs her wet cunt against yours. She moans while desperately rubbing your clit’s move against one another. Her breasts swayed as she moved, chasing after her own pleasure. It made you happy to see how much more confident Helaena had become in such a short space of time. She was no longer blushing and timed, but now a princess who knew exactly what she wanted.

“I’m getting close again!”

“Me too, princess!” You hold onto Helaena’s hips, helping her grind against you. “Fuck!”

You stared up at the clear sky as your dragon circled above. Dreamfyre was sleeping further up the hill, blissfully unaware of what her rider had been doing a short distance away. Being with the princess helped you feel more at ease; all your fears about marriage were pushed to the back of your mind.

“Marriage isn’t all bad; sometimes good things come out of it.”

You let out a chuckle. “I doubt it. Marriages for political arrangements haven’t been known to end well.”

Helaena turns her head up slightly to face you. “I saw a maester yesterday.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I’m with the child again,” she smiles brightly and rubs at her stomach.

“Oh,” you say, feeling as if you’ve been punched in the gut. “Congratulations.”

There was no doubt Helaena loved her twins and would love her new baby just as much, but a part of you felt defeated. Another thing was about to change, and you would eventually lose the only person that made you feel safe. It wasn’t in your nature to become overly attached to others; there was no other person aside from Jace that you felt a genuine connection with.

Helaena turns her body so she is leaning over yours, and she kisses your stomach just above your navel. “I would still like it if we could spend time together,” she says, kissing your body until she reaches your shoulder and rests her head on it. “Nothing needs to change; having children is the only benefit of performing my duty as a wife.”

You listen to Helaena talk about motherhood and the special bond she shared with her twins, but the stirring in your stomach as you're filled with unease becomes too much. You sit up, causing Helaena to move back. A lump starts to build in your throat, and you quickly start to redress. “Sorry—it’s getting late, and I'm somewhere I need to be.”

“Can we meet again tomorrow?”

“I’m returning to Runestone, so it will be a few days before we can meet again.” You press your lips against hers and say, “I will see you when I’m back, princess.”

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | ten

🐴Chapter summary: When Mikrokosmos goes missing, you don’t know what to do and when Jimin suddenly starts talking to you, wanting to help find your horse, you’re not sure if you should accept or not. When you can’t find Mikrokosmos and have to spend a night with Jimin in the wide open land, will old feelings bloom? 🐴Chapter title: The First Touch 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex; sex in public (they are outside in nature by themselves), oral (both male and female receiving), very very brief anal play (female receiving), nipple play, hair pulling, sweet/dirty talk, pet name (babe), cock warming, multiple orgasms, a loooooooot of kissing (so much that it should be illegal), just very slow and tender love making. Jimin is very gentle, but he is also a devil 👿 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 16.4k (whoopps, but it’s smut!)

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “The First Touch” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: hello, how are you doing? After weeks of leaving you high and dry and potentially crying, I finally come bearing a gift in the form of slow and sensual smut. I really hope you love it, otherwise, shame on you (I’m sorry I just really love it, and it will get dirtier later (yes, that was more smut promised!)). This chapter was so fucking fun to write, and can you belive I wrote it in a day? The last three previous chapters have been harder to write, because they were more angsty, but this, oh dear god, when I write smut and fluff, the words just flows differently 🥰 So I really hope that you enjoy this, I ended up turning myself on with the smut, so yeah… I hope that means that it is good, please let me know okay???

And I am so sorry for all the angst I put you through, if you need therapy like me, send me the bill, okay? 🥹 We also finally get some answers to Jimin’s behavior the last chapters!! I really hope you enjoy, and I hope you haven’t given up on this series 😭

PSA! For the ultimate reading experience, I recommend grabbing a warm blanket and something nice to drink (whatever you like; water, tea, cocoa etc) 🫂

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

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“When I finally touch you Soft upon your skin You travel to the heart of me And so it begins” - ‘The First Touch’ by Rebecca Lavelle

You find yourself yearning for the ground to swallow you whole. The aftermath of the gala weighs heavily on your mind, and you’ve been evading Jimin ever since. Anger still lingers, but embarrassment overshadows it. Why on earth did you let yourself unleash such a torrent of emotions on him?

You release a frustrated groan, urging Marshmallow to stretch his stride, his powerful hooves churning up the earth beneath. The wind whips through your hair, carrying with it the anticipation of your imminent arrival at Bell Ranch.

Praying to avoid any encounter with Jimin or his undoubtedly furious girlfriend, you navigate the winding path to Bell Ranch with a knot of apprehension in your stomach. The thought of further embarrassment looms over you like a storm cloud, urging you to keep a low profile and escape unscathed.

Marshmallow ambles toward the pen, Yoongi immersed in his labor. Presently, his focus is on a horse adorned with a tapestry of brown and white spots, each stroke of his skilled hands an intimate dance with the wild spirit captured within the creature’s untamed gaze.

You bring Marshmallow to a stop, securing the reins to the fence, before settling into your customary perch. From this vantage point, you observe Yoongi, his hands orchestrating a ballet with the untamed energy of the horse.

Suddenly, a stir in the vicinity of the house catches your attention, prompting you to shift your gaze. There, you spot Jimin making his way toward you, an unusual limp in his stride suggesting he might have overexerted himself today. Despite the evident fatigue, he’s adorned in a button-down shirt, sleeves casually rolled up, revealing the golden hue of his skin and the well-defined contours of his biceps. A gentle breeze plays with his blonde locks as he traverses the yard.

A curiosity nags at you as you observe Jimin’s solitary figure, wondering about the absence of Deiji and the distant expression etched across his face, brows knit in contemplation. The air seems to carry the weight of his thoughts, leaving you to ponder what might be troubling him. Just as you’re caught in this web of speculation, the abrupt roar of an engine pierces the air, drawing your attention. Swiftly, Jimin mounts his blue dirt bike, tearing out of the yard with an intensity that propels him over hills and into the expanse of a distant paddock.

He’s likely headed off to some task, a sentiment that resonates with your own responsibilities awaiting attention. A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you shift your gaze back to Yoongi, his tender gestures toward the spotted horse capturing a moment of tranquility amidst the ranch’s bustling routine.

Yoongi’s playful grin widens as he teases, well aware that your attention involuntarily drifted towards Jimin once more. “How are you doing?”

A light chuckle escapes you. “Well, hanging in there. Just grappling with the lingering sense of embarrassment, you know?”

He erupts into laughter, the kind that reveals his gums and sets his chest into a hearty jiggle. “Got it. I heard Jimin’s girlfriend was less than thrilled with your little performance at the gala.”

You scoff, indifferent about his opinion. Regret lingers for your harsh words, a realization that an apology is overdue—a bridge you’ve yet to cross.

“I understand, but I was just so mad, and I couldn’t hold back,” you admit, your scuffed tone matching the internal storm that rages within, hands tightly clenched atop your legs.

“It’s alright. I don’t think Jimin minds. You’ve given him plenty to ponder,” he mentions, continuing to pat the spotted horse. Your raised eyebrow prompts him to elaborate.

“What do you mean?” you ask, curiosity sparking in your eyes, eager to understand his insinuation.

“The house has been unusually quiet since the gala. Maybe Jimin has taken your words to heart?” he suggests, eyebrows dancing in speculation. You scoff, skeptical of such a notion.

“Let’s shift the conversation, shall we? I’m done with Jimin,” you declare, though a part of you acknowledges that you’re far from finished with the unresolved tension. Uncertain whether you should approach Jimin – preferably without yelling this time – or wait for him to make the first move, you consider extending an apology to both him and Deiji.

Yoongi chuckles, orchestrating a rhythmic dance with the spotted horse as they traverse the pen at a leisurely pace. “Sure,” he replies with a hint of amusement in his voice.

A heavy sigh escapes you, and a pregnant pause lingers, only to be broken by Yoongi’s next words.

“I have a date with Hobi,” he announces, a radiant smile gracing his face, yet beneath the joy, a subtle tremor betrays a touch of nervous anticipation in his voice.

A grin spreads across your face, mirroring your genuine excitement. “That’s fantastic!” 

Your enthusiasm bubbles over, revealing just how genuinely thrilled you are for him.

Your eyes light up with genuine joy as you congratulate him, “I’m so happy for you, Yoon.” Your smile reflects the warmth and sincerity of your words.

A playful glint in his eyes, he teases, “Thank you, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

Anticipation bubbles within you, eager to hear the tales of their date, whenever they get to have it. As your thoughts wander, a silent wish lingers in the recesses of your mind—hoping for a touch of joy not just for Yoongi but for yourself as well, because you both deserve it, dammit.

“Are you ready to get Mikrokosmos home?” Yoongi’s question jolts you from your daydreams, nudging your focus back to reality. You silently curse yourself for entertaining thoughts about how their date would go and then your mind instantly wanders to sex. Damn, you really need to get laid. Why does your mind always have to go there?

You laugh nervously, your excitement bubbling to the surface. “Absolutely! I can’t wait to welcome Mikrokosmos home at last.”

“I’ll wrap things up here, and then we can ride her home together, sound good?” he suggests, a hopeful smile lighting up his face. You eagerly nod; a ride with the wind in your hair always has a way of soothing your heart.

As Yoongi wraps up his work with the spotted horse, coaxing it into accepting the halter, you watch attentively. Once done, he opens the gate, guiding the horse into a paddock. Together, you make your way to the stables to saddle up Mikrokosmos.

With unwavering patience, you nuzzle Mikrokosmos gently as you expertly fit the bridle and saddle onto her. Leading her out of the barn, you make your way down to the pen where Marshmallow awaits, tethered to the fence.

“Mind if I take Marshmallow? Later, Soo-ah or Ara can give me a ride home,” he proposes, deftly unfastening the reins from the fence. With a fluid motion, he swings one leg over Marshmallow’s sturdy back, securing himself in the saddle.

With a nod, you replicate the motion with Mikrokosmos. Grasping the stirrup, you press your weight onto your foot, smoothly swinging your body over the black mare’s back. A soft, airy whinny escapes her as you settle into the saddle.

“Let’s go!” you exclaim with enthusiasm, gently pressing your legs against Mikrokosmos’s side. She eases into a lazy canter before bursting into a steady gallop. Yoongi follows in your wake, and together, you ride over the hills, the sun casting a warm glow on your skin. In companionable silence, you savor the moment, connecting with nature and the rhythmic pulse of the horses beneath you.

Your heart races within your chest as you revel in the sensation of riding Mikrokosmos. Her movements feel like a dance, as if she’s carrying you to extraordinary places. Today, that destination is home. The anticipation builds as you look forward to having your horse with you at last. Countless hours of hard work have led to this moment, and the thought of bringing her home fills you with excitement and satisfaction.

The wind gently tousles your hair as you grip the reins, relishing the familiar sensation of freedom while riding. There’s a profound joy in being so intimately connected with nature. This feeling, the rush of wind, the rhythmic gait of the horse—it’s something you’ve truly missed. Since your dad took you away from the ranch, you’ve felt the absence keenly. Now, as you ride, you’re determined to reclaim everything you lost, to rediscover the simple yet profound joys that the ranch offers.

In no time, you and Yoongi arrive back at the familiar embrace of home. Guiding your horses up to the barn, you expertly stow them away, each finding comfort in their respective stalls.

As you and Yoongi make your way to the house, the air is suddenly pierced by the thunderous roar of an engine. Turning, you spot Jungkook’s sleek bike charging into the yard, your sister snugly positioned behind him. With a smooth halt, he steadies the bike, kicking the stand into place and plants his boots on the ground, unveiling his disheveled black hair as he removes the helmet. Following suit, Jessi frees her own brown locks, letting them playfully dance around her face in the breeze, a tandem display of casual grace as the bike’s engine settles into a quiet hum.

Your hand rises in a friendly wave, reciprocated by the warm smiles adorning both Jungkook and Jessi’s faces as they draw near.

“Hi,” resonates in perfect harmony from both, your sister’s fingers intimately intertwined with Jungkook’s. A twinge of happiness for them pulls at your heart, yet it’s hard not to let a tinge of personal sadness creep in as well.

Yoongi strolls up to Jungkook, nodding toward the bike, “Mind if I borrow that to ride home, in case you’re crashing here?”

Jungkook laughs and gives a casual nod, “Sure thing. Jessi’s playing chauffeur for me tomorrow.”

Yoongi grins with satisfaction, sharing a quick hug and bidding you farewell. He hops onto the dirt bike, revving the engine to life, the sound echoing through the air.

You stand there, watching as Yoongi rides off into the distance, a cloud of dust rising in his wake, the roar of the engine gradually fading into the peaceful surroundings.

“I’m going to grab a quick snack before dinner, do you want some?” You cast a casual glance toward your sister and Jungkook as you leisurely make your way toward the house.

“As long as it’s a sandwich, count me in,” Jungkook chuckles, with your sister in tow. The duo follows you into the house and converges in the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you survey the available ingredients for sandwich-making. Jungkook and Jessi settle at the small table on the side, eagerly anticipating the creation of the culinary delights.

You retrieve the bread, butter, and a medley of ham and cheese from the fridge. Your hands move with a rhythmic grace, deftly assembling the ingredients, all the while humming the sweet melody of a love song that resonates in the air.

“Have you talked with Jimin since the gala?��Jungkook’s question punctures the air, shattering the peaceful rhythm of your sandwich-making. The ingredients lay untouched as you turn your attention to him, his words echoing in the kitchen.

Without turning away from the task at hand, you respond to Jungkook’s inquiry, your voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and a tinge of regret. “No, and I’m not sure he even wants to talk to me after everything that happened.”

As you continue working, your back facing Jungkook and your sister, you sense his understanding nod and his voice carries a gentle insistence. “I really think you should talk to him this time.”

You pivot, your eyes locking onto Jungkook, a giant question mark etched across your face. 

“Why?” You inquire, curiosity and a hint of reluctance evident in your expression.

A sly smirk lingers on his lips, aggravating you further. The infuriating knowledge he possesses irks you to no end. “I think he has something to tell you,” he teases, and you find yourself caught between irritation and curiosity. A sarcastic chuckle escapes your lips as you refocus on the sandwiches, allowing the knife to slice through them, the sharp blade echoing your conflicted emotions.

“Here,” you offer, presenting Jungkook with a plate laden with half a dozen sandwiches, though your sister politely declines any.

You snatch one for yourself, shooting a casual yet meaningful glance back at them, “Enjoy.”

Savoring each bite of the sandwich, you ascend the stairs to your bedroom, where your eyes linger on the canvas mounted on the easel. The palette has shifted, with softer tones emerging – hints of pink intermingling with delicate whites and purples, forming a composition reminiscent of a blossoming cherry tree.

Sinking into the soft embrace of your bed, a cascade of thoughts floods your mind. The weight of an overdue apology to Jimin and his girlfriend hangs over you, a lingering echo from the turbulent gala. Yet, Jungkook’s mysterious hint at something he knows adds an intriguing layer to your contemplation. Recognizing the need for resolution, you resolve to extend the olive branch of an apology first, aiming to pave the way for a more composed and genuine conversation with Jimin. The anticipation of what both interactions might unveil stirs within you, pushing you to take the first step towards reconciliation.

In an unexpected twist of events, you drift into an unplanned slumber, the embrace of sleep enveloping you so thoroughly that dinner becomes a distant echo. No one ventures to rouse you, and you awaken later on your bed, a half-eaten sandwich still clutched in your hand. The rhythmic resonance of hooves reverberates, drawing you to the window. A herd of wild horses, led by the imposing brown stallion, unfolds in the yard, remarkably close. Its flaring nostrils and challenging hoof scratches paint a vivid picture of defiance. Despite the intriguing spectacle, weariness tugs at you as you wearily retreat to your bed.

A disquieting sensation grips you, seeping into the very marrow of your bones and settling like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. An unsettling intuition whispers that things are amiss, and you can’t shake the ominous feeling that something, somewhere, has gone terribly wrong.

Emerging from your bed, your hair a tousled bird’s nest, you scan the room, finding the familiar unchanged. In the bathroom, the routine of brushing your teeth provides a momentary distraction as foam swells in your mouth, only to be expelled and washed away. The warm shower cascades over you, but an indefinable unease persists. Hastily drying off, you return to your room, donning a shirt and pants with urgency. Boots secured, hat in hand, you bound down the stairs, a sense of urgency propelling each step.

Entering the kitchen, a picture of concern greets you — Jungkook, your sister, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin all wear furrowed brows, leaving you bewildered as to the unfolding situation.

“What’s happened?” You urgently inquire, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and foreboding, a silent acknowledgment that your unsettling intuition might have been onto something significant.

“The herd of wild horses were here last night,” Jungkook informs, a flicker of annoyance crossing his gaze as it shifts from your sister to you.

“Half of the horses are missing,” she exclaims, her voice tinged with frustration, a deep sigh escaping her. You stand there, gaping at them, a sinking feeling settling in. Half of the horses gone? The implications of this revelation weigh heavily on your mind, leaving you bewildered and searching for answers.

“How in the world are half of the horses missing?” you demand, furrowing your brows in disbelief. Nausea churns in your stomach as you contemplate which horses might be gone, a sense of urgency and worry gripping your every thought.

In a calm voice, Ha-rin explains, “It was the stallion. He kicked down the fence, and the horses bolted…”

You nod solemnly. Yoongi’s cautionary words about the troublesome stallion echo in your mind.

Your voice trembles with fear as you ask, “Which paddock?”

Jessi’s voice drops, “The East paddock,” she says, her anger seeping into every word as she sinks into a chair.

Realization crashes over you like a tidal wave. After stalling Mikrokosmos for the night, you released her into that same East paddock for some freedom—whatever freedom a fenced enclosure could offer. Oh, no. Could Mikrokosmos be among the missing horses?

“Mikrokosmos?” The word escapes your lips, a desperate plea wrapped in the echo of your worst fears. You don’t need them to confirm it; the sinking weight in your chest tells you everything. The truth is etched across their faces, mirroring the dread that’s settled in your bones since you woke up.

Fury courses through Jessi’s words as she spits out the painful truth, “She’s gone too, along with some of the other mares.” Her hand crashes down on the table, a symphony of anger and frustration. Jungkook steps in, his calming touch a feeble attempt to soothe the storm unleashed.

Hatred drips from Jessi’s words like venom as she rages, “That’s why I hate those damn wild animals! Always stealing our horses. That stallion probably wanted Mikrokosmos back…” Her words pierce the air, causing an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Is she implying this is somehow your fault?

You begin to protest, “I didn’t have anything to do with this,” but Jessi dismisses your words with a quick and dismissive wave.

“I don’t think you did. I’m not blaming you. I’m just furious at that wretched stallion,” she explains, her anger palpable and raw, but there’s a softer edge to her words too.

It’s a relief to know she doesn’t pin this on you, that you’re not burdened with the blame. A soft sigh escapes your lips.

“So, what’s the plan then?” You inquire, scanning the faces in the crowded kitchen, a sense of urgency in your voice.

“We need to mend that fence, Jungkook, can we count on you for help?” Your sister implores, turning to him with a hopeful expression. He responds with a firm nod and a reassuring grip on her shoulder.

“Of course.”

“Feel free to track down the wild horses and check if you can locate them. Unfortunately, we’re short-handed today,” your sister suggests, rising from her seat and gazing out the window.

“No worries. I’ll head over to Yoongi and see if he can spare some time to join me,” you assure them with a gentle smile. Beneath the surface, a mix of sadness and frustration bubbles as you long for Mikrokosmos to return.

With determined steps, you rush out of the house and bound up to the stables, the urgency echoing in your every movement. In the quiet embrace of the stable, Marshmallow awaits, his presence a comforting balm to your racing thoughts. Swiftly, you open the door, embracing him in a soft hug before gearing him up with a bridle and saddle. Together, you emerge from the barn, and with a decisive leap, you saddle up, urging Marshmallow into a gallop, heading towards the Bell ranch with determination in your heart.

The wind tenderly weaves through your hair once more, a melancholic symphony echoing the turbulence within. Fueled by a potent mix of sorrow and frustration, your heart clenches with a resolute desire to reclaim what’s rightfully yours. Your grip tightens around the reins, a silent vow etched in your clenched fists, urging Marshmallow to race faster, the earth stirs in a tumultuous dance beneath his thundering hooves.

The pen materializes on the horizon, and there, amidst the rhythmic ballet of wild horses, you spy Yoongi immersed in his labor. Urging Marshmallow to a thunderous gallop, you charge towards the pen. With an abrupt tug on the reins, the air fills with the gritty harmony of skidding hooves as Marshmallow halts, an abrupt punctuation that seizes Yoongi’s attention. Descending from Marshmallow, you plant your feet on the ground with a flourish, the dust settling around you like a curtain call.

“What’s wrong?” He queries, a flicker of concern lighting up his features, as your uncharacteristic entrance sends ripples of tension through the air. 

“The damn stallion,” you seethe, your breaths punctuated with fury, “he’s run off with Mikrokosmos.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen in shock, but without hesitation, he declares, “I’ll help you search for her.” You nod in gratitude as he leads his brown horse out of the pen, and you guide Marshmallow to the stables, anticipation coursing through both of you.

Prepared and determined, you and Yoongi lead your horses by the reins out to the yard, a shared sense of urgency fueling your quest to find Mikrokosmos.

Yoongi gathers the reins in his hand and directs your focus to the task at hand, “We’ll start looking at the Eastern paddock, okay?” Just as the urgency builds, Jimin emerges from his house, adding an unexpected twist to the unfolding events. You shoot him a questioning look as he stands before you, curiosity and apprehension blending in your gaze.

“What are you up to?” Jimin questions, catching both you and Yoongi off guard. The unexpectedness of his inquiry leaves you standing there, dumbfounded, your shared silence reflecting the tension that lingers between you and Jimin.

“The wild stallion snatched Mikrokosmos last night; we’re going to search for her,” Yoongi explains, his voice filled with urgency, his movements swift as he places his foot in the stirrup and gracefully swings his body over the horse’s back. The gravity of the situation hangs heavy, and you can feel the collective determination to retrieve your horse cutting through the morning air.

“I can help,” Jimin offers, his voice carrying a light and airy tone that catches you off guard. You stare at him, momentarily questioning your senses—did he really just say that? The unexpected offer hangs in the air, and you’re left wondering what might be going on in his mind.

Yoongi and you both fixate on him, and Jimin responds with a soft chuckle, the contours of his chest subtly moving beneath his shirt.

“I can assist. That way, Yoongi can focus on his tasks,” he suggests, approaching Yoongi and motioning for him to dismount so they can swap positions. Yoongi glances at you, seeking approval for the change. Meanwhile, you continue to stare blankly at both Yoongi and Jimin. The situation feels oddly surreal—Jimin offering to help you search for your horse, especially considering the tense silence since the heated exchange at the gala. This ride might just turn out to be the most awkward one of your life.

“Sure,” Yoongi concedes, dismounting from the horse. He hands the reins to Jimin, who skillfully collects them in his hands. With a swift motion, Jimin places his boot in the stirrup and swings his body over the horse, mirroring Yoongi’s earlier move.

Silent as a shadow, you remain grounded, words held captive within the walls of your thoughts.

With a subtle tug on the reins, Jimin redirects the horse, casting a teasing glance your way, “Are you coming or what?”

Jimin’s playful remark snaps you back to the present, and without a second thought, you slip your foot into the stirrup, effortlessly swinging your leg over Marshmallow’s back.

You trail behind Jimin, bidding farewell to Yoongi, who lingers with a knowing smile. Silently cursing him for abandoning you in the company of Jimin, you brace for the imminent awkwardness. Despite the uncertainty, the urgency of finding Mikrokosmos eclipses any reservations—you’re grateful for any help that might lead to her return.

Jimin confidently guides his horse, setting the pace as you both return to your ranch. The eastern paddock looms ahead, where Jungkook and Jessi ardently mend the broken fence. Their curious gazes lock onto you, expecting Yoongi but finding Jimin at your side instead.

Venturing deeper into the forest, the towering trees cast a verdant embrace around you. Silence hangs heavy between you and Jimin, a palpable tension that begs to be shattered. It dawns on you that speaking up might be the only way to dispel this awkward atmosphere before it becomes a permanent fixture.

Amidst the rustling leaves and dappled sunlight, you finally muster the courage to break the awkward silence. “I’ve been meaning to say, I’m sincerely sorry about the gala. I hope my words didn’t cross a line with you or upset Deiji too much,” you confess, your gaze sweeping through the foliage in search of any sign of the elusive wild horses.

His laughter dances through the air, a warm melody amid the rustling leaves. “It’s fine. Did it feel good getting off your chest?”

A subtle blush graces your cheeks, and you admit, “It did. I’m still sorry, though. Sorry that your girlfriend had to hear that, and for pointing at her like that.”

You release a soft sigh, reminiscing about the regrettable way you conducted yourself.

He laughs again, the sound echoing like sweet melodies in your ears, yet the mystery behind his continuous laughter leaves you utterly perplexed.

“She did not like it,” he starts, weaving his words with the rustling leaves as you venture into uncharted territory beneath the expansive canopy of a towering, ancient tree.

“I deeply regret my words and actions,” you offer in earnest, the weight of remorse evident in your voice.

“It’s fine. We actually broke up,” his words hang in the air, a revelation that jolts you, and you swivel your head towards him so swiftly you fear a case of emotional whiplash.

Your words tumble out rapidly, laced with uncertainty, as you press him for answers, “You broke up? Why?” The shifting dynamics between you two send your heart racing, and the reins in your sweaty palms seem to tighten with anticipation.

In a hushed tone, he reveals, “She was tired of being compared to you.” 

His voice carries a soft, steady cadence, devoid of anger, as though he’s entrusted you with a profound secret. He turns to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips, revealing his slightly crooked teeth. His eyes disappear behind lowered eyelids as he adds, “She isn’t you.”

A suspended moment, as if time itself hesitates, your heart momentarily halts its rhythmic dance within your chest. Breath catches, and for a beat, you’re left in breathless suspension—did he truly utter those words? The weight of his revelation seeps into your weary frame, and a blossoming warmth unfurls within your chest. The air lightens, the sun bestows its gentle touch on your skin, and you find yourself smiling at him, words caught in the surge of emotions.

“I also had a conversation with Yoongi,” he reveals, and you find yourself gaping in astonishment. The horses have settled into a leisurely walk, a welcome reprieve as you grapple with the influx of information, making it nearly impossible to focus on the ride.

“He mentioned the kiss,” he confesses, and you detect a glimmer of pain in his eyes. Yet, it doesn’t weigh as heavily as it once did; there’s a newfound lightness in his demeanor as he continues, “Yoongi explained that he’s gay, and that the kiss was merely a friendly gesture.”

You nod, each word he utters peeling away layers of weight from your shoulders. It’s precisely the message you’ve been struggling to convey all along. However, you hesitated to betray Yoongi’s confidence by revealing it. Yet, confessing to Hoseok about Yoongi’s feelings for him seemed to work wonders, paving the way for their upcoming date.

“That’s what I desperately wanted to convey that day, you know... but you slammed the door shut in my face,” you confess, a tinge of sorrow sweeping over your heart at the memory of the pain etched on Jimin’s face that day. While you comprehend the source of his hurt and anger, the lingering confusion remains about why he refused to engage in conversation or hear your side of the story.

“I’m sorry. I was just so hurt at the time. Later, when I noticed how close you were to Yoongi, I jumped to conclusions and assumed you were dating him,” he chuckles, the sound carrying a tinge of sadness as he reminisces about the past. “Fortunately, he clarified things for me, assuring me that you two are just friends and always have been.”

“That’s right. We’re just best friends. Honestly, he’s like the annoying brother I never asked for,” you chuckle, a weight lifting off your shoulders. Yet, an indescribable sensation begins to bloom within your chest, a mix of warmth and tingles, leaving you intrigued by its unfamiliar presence.

“I’m so sorry. I really should have talked to you and listened. I’m so sorry.” As Jimin utters his apology, his voice echoes with remorse, a melody of regret that resonates within you. It’s a bittersweet symphony, soothing to finally hear, yet you ponder the missed opportunities for dialogue that could have averted the storm unleashed by this stupid mistake and now your recent outburst. The apology, though overdue, forms a bridge between you, and you find solace in the fact that, at last, you stand on the same side of understanding. 

“I had hoped for you to listen back then as well. But, let’s leave the echoes of the past behind, shall we?” Your suggestion carries the weight of anticipation, a sense of hopeful exploration into uncharted territories. He nods in agreement, yet a palpable silence, thick with the unsaid, envelops you both. The journey continues in quietude, but within that stillness, you sense the unspoken words echoing in the lingering gaze of his brown eyes, a silent conversation that paints the canvas of possibility.

As twilight descends and the hours in the saddle accumulate, your fatigue is etched into the soreness of your seat. The weariness must surely weigh on Jimin too, his body silently protesting the prolonged ride. Amidst the encroaching darkness, Mikrokosmos remains elusive, a mystery yet to unfold, and the elusive presence of the wild horses eludes your diligent search.

Frustration settles over you like a heavy cloak, and an audible sigh escapes your lips, carrying the weight of your disappointment. Just as the gloom threatens to deepen, a rebellious rumble emanates from your stomach, capturing Jimin’s attention and coaxing a playful laugh from him.

“Hungry?” His question, a beacon of concern, draws a nod from you, and you respond by absently rubbing your stomach as if coaxing it to silence the persistent growls of hunger.

As the undeniable pangs of hunger echo through your stomach, you admit with a rueful tone, “I forgot to eat before we left,” the regret audible in your voice.

In a gentle yet scolding tone, he remarks, “That’s not good, you know. It’s important to eat.” Leaning towards you, he suggests, “I think we should call it a day and head back. It’s getting late anyway.”

As you nod, a flicker of disappointment crosses your face. The elusive search for Mikrokosmos remains unfulfilled today. Yet, a spark of hope ignites within you as you remind yourself, there’s always tomorrow, right?

“Then you can get something to eat, a good night’s sleep and then I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we can continue the search?” His soft smile and warm, glowing brown eyes captivate you, quickening your heartbeat. With a hopeful nod, you sense something stirring deep within your stomach — a sensation that goes beyond hunger, something akin to the birth of hope.

The rhythmic tapping on your door pulls you from slumber, and you respond with a drowsy yet receptive, “Yes?”

You emit a groan of protest as the door inches open, revealing a fully alert Jimin. Clad in a snug white tee, its slight transparency inadvertently exposing the soft hue of his pink nipples, you chide yourself for letting your gaze linger. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you note his dark blue jeans, strategically torn at the knees, leaving you curious if it’s a deliberate fashion choice or a result of untamed adventures. His hands nonchalantly find refuge in his pockets, drawing your attention to the pronounced veins that traverse his arms, subtly visible in the soft light of dawn.

As you rise from your bed, a sudden awareness floods your mind, recalling the choice of your sleepwear—a camisole paired with shorts that might be deemed too short for comfort. Hastily, you reach for the duvet, intending to conceal a portion of your body, only to inadvertently accentuate the contours of your chest. The fabric presses against your breasts, and you can’t help but notice the subtle shift in his gaze, his eyes lingering on the unintended display of cleavage.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he chuckles, advancing deeper into your room. His gaze sweeps across the array of your personal belongings, lingering on the easel in the corner adorned with a painting bursting with vibrant hues— a stark contrast to your previous, darker works. Despite your eye roll, you pull yourself out of bed, allowing the duvet to cascade from your body. In that moment, you sense his eyes tracing every contour of your nearly naked form.

“Just a minute,” you reply, swiftly retrieving a t-shirt and pants from your closet, tossing them onto the bed. Jimin’s gaze lingers on you, a subtle intensity that sets your hair on fire, the air thick with an indescribable energy. “Mind if I take a shower first?” you ask, breaking the charged silence.

He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “No time for that. Besides, you already smell nice.” His playful demeanor adds a spark to the moment, making you smile in spite of the urgency.

A blush tints your cheeks. Did he just say you smell nice? You did take a bath yesterday after dinner, but you’re not entirely convinced you actually smell nice. Nevertheless, he’s spot on about time slipping away – you can’t afford to lose daylight like you did yesterday.

“Fine,” you hiss, the word escaping through a playful smirk. Chuckling softly, you grab your clothes from the bed and dash out of your room, disappearing into the bathroom. 

Returning to your bedroom, you discover Jimin holding a photograph featuring the three of you. His smile reflects the captured moment as you take the frame from his hand. “I found it a few weeks ago. Isn’t it just adorable?” The warmth of nostalgia floods the room, threading through the air as the image triggers shared memories.

A smile graces your face as you gaze at the photograph capturing the innocence of childhood, featuring you, your sister, and Jimin at the tender age of eight. Bright, childish smiles illuminate the image, with chubby cheeks and round faces. You and your sister playfully squish Jimin in the middle, a moment frozen in time that radiates cuteness. Reflecting on it, you marvel at the transformation; once adorable, Jimin now exudes a different allure, an almost dangerous charisma, akin to the allure of sin.

“It was good times,” nostalgia colors his words as a warm smile graces Jimin’s lips. Without a word, he walks past you, hand reaching out to intertwine with yours, a gentle pull guiding you downstairs to the kitchen. In that touch, echoes of good times and cherished memories bridge the gap between past and present.

“Here you go,” Ha-rin offers you a bundle of carefully prepared food, a thoughtful gesture that instantly makes you feel cared for. Simultaneously, Jimin secures water bottles, gearing up for the day’s journey. The barn becomes a hub of activity as his sleek black horse stands poised, laden with sleeping mats and saddlebags filled with provisions. The air buzzes with anticipation as you prepare for the adventure ahead.

“You’re really prepared,” amused by the thorough preparations, you share a light chuckle while heading into the stable to retrieve Marshmallow, your trusted companion for the impending journey.

“Yeah, that way, if we still don’t find her, we can just sleep out there instead of having to ride all the way back and start over again tomorrow.” His practical explanation resonates with you as you prepare Marshmallow, donning him with a bridle and securing the saddle. Anticipating the possibility of an extended search, you fasten saddlebags, graciously accepting the additional supplies from Jimin, ensuring you’re well-equipped for the journey ahead.

His strategic approach resonates, and you nod in agreement, a surge of determination coursing through you as you gear up for the mission to locate Mikrokosmos.

Guiding Marshmallow from the stable into the morning sunlight, you revel in the warmth that has lingered for months. With reins in hand, boots in the stirrups, and a shared determination with Jimin, you swing into the saddle, urging your horses into a brisk trot toward the Eastern paddock.

The silence becomes a tangible presence, weaving an awkward tapestry around you. Armed with the knowledge of Jimin’s recent breakup, a peculiar tension lingers. He’s now within reach, available, and your desire for him simmers beneath the surface. The challenge lies in navigating this uncharted territory, uncertain of how to bridge the gap between longing and action.

After a few hours in the saddle, you take a well-deserved break, replenishing your energy with a quick snack and a sip of water. The brief pause allows you to catch your breath, fortifying yourself before embarking on the ongoing quest to find Mikrokosmos.

Between bites of the delicious sandwiches Ha-rin crafted for you, you cast a concerned glance at Jimin. 

“Are you okay?” Your attention focuses, especially on his leg, as you inquire about his well-being.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassures you, as though casually dismissing the likely pain he’s enduring.

“I know that long rides can strain your leg, and I don’t want you to push yourself too hard,” you express with concern, your voice softening. The last thing you want is for him to endure any pain because of you.

“It’s okay,” despite his soft smile and dismissal, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s in pain. It reflects in the furrow of his forehead and the way he favors his left leg, dragging his right leg more than usual. Stubborn, you think, as you let him have his way, but deep down, you know he’s masking the discomfort.

As you take a sip of water, you gently probe, “I remember you telling me about your accident, but what was it like for you afterward?”

With a gentle smile, he begins, “As I told you earlier, I underwent surgery after the accident. It lasted for hours, leaving me with numerous scars on my hip. I despise them; they keep reminding me of that day,” his voice resonates with a mix of sadness and lingering anger. “It happened when I was alone, unable to move or feel my legs. My foot was trapped in the stirrup, the horse struggling to rise immediately after the fall.”

Empathy wells up within you as he recounts the harrowing details. It sounds truly dreadful. Reflecting on the first time he mentioned the incident, you realize he held back so many of these distressing details.

As he exhales, a poignant mixture of sadness and defeat tinges his voice. “Finally, the horse got up and ran off, presumably back home. A few hours later, Jungkook found me and took me to the hospital,” he shares, his recollection carrying the weight of a painful memory.

“Learning to walk again was also pretty hard. But I managed,” he confides, a resilient smile lighting up his eyes. In that moment, you find yourself smiling back, realizing the depth of his strength. Despite the pain, he’s willingly embarking on this quest with you—a testament to the extraordinary kindness that defines this man. He is truly too kind for his own good.

“I’m so sorry,” you utter, a genuine ache in your voice, yearning to alleviate even a fraction of the pain etched across his features.

“It’s life, I guess,” he murmurs with a touch of vulnerability, his shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug as he concludes his sandwich, deftly stowing away the remnants into the saddlebags.

“Ready to continue?” He inquires, rising to his feet and dusting off his pants. Following suit, you tidy up, brushing away the dirt from your clothes. Grabbing the reins of Marshmallow, you mount him once more. With the sky shifting from orange to purple in the approaching dusk, the urgency propels you to search fervently for Mikrokosmos.

You’re hit with a wave of disappointment as the realization sinks in that Mikrokosmos won’t be found today either. Frustration knots in your stomach, and a heavy sigh escapes, echoing your dejected feelings.

“We will continue tomorrow,” under the star-studded sky, Jimin’s comforting words envelop you like a gentle embrace. The vast expanse of the open land, with trees and mountains on the horizon, hints at the distance you’ve covered—perhaps even farther than the previous day. Tomorrow holds the promise of a new search, a fresh chance to reunite with Mikrokosmos.

“Fine.”

Resigned, you dismount Marshmallow, carefully removing his bridle and saddle, placing them on the ground with a sense of weary determination. Jimin mirrors your actions with his own horse, unfurling sleeping mats that create a makeshift bed beneath the starlit sky. Blankets join the ensemble, and side by side, you both recline, gazing upward. The stars, like distant diamonds, twinkle in the vast canvas of the night sky, creating a breathtaking image of beauty.

As you lay there, surrounded by the gentle rustling of grass and the fragrant whispers of wildflowers, a part of you can’t help but believe that this is the stuff dreams are made of. The soft earth cradles you, a natural mattress beneath the vast expanse of the cosmos, each star above a guardian in the nocturnal symphony orchestrating your descent into slumber.

The night breeze plays a gentle melody around you, and you sense Jimin shifting beside you. Your eyelids flutter open, and you gracefully turn your head to meet his presence in the tranquil darkness.

“You know that brother’s talk…” in the hushed embrace of the nocturnal wilderness, Jimin’s voice resonates like a sacred incantation. He breaks the silence with a low, calm tone, his words weaving through the night’s symphony of your shared breaths, distant crickets, and the flickering dance of fireflies.

His words, like an unexpected gust of wind through the serene night, jolt you awake. Tension grips your body, and a nervous gulp escapes your throat, shattering the fragile cocoon of impending sleep.

His words cut through the tranquil night, each syllable heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. In the dimness, his eyes lock onto yours, revealing a hurt that lingers like a shadow, haunting the depths of his gaze. “It really hurt... seeing you with Jungkook,” he confesses, laying bare the ache that still throbs within him.

As your heart sways with remorse, your hand moves instinctively, bridging the gap between you and Jimin. Gently, your fingers trace the contours of his cheek, a silent apology etched in the tender gesture. “I’m so sorry. Both that it happened and that you had to see it,” your words hang in the night air, a delicate offering of regret that seeks solace in the quiet.

Jimin’s hand intertwines with yours, and his touch becomes a comforting anchor in the obsidian night. “It’s okay. Stuff happens. I just like you so much, it made me really angry,” his words, a vulnerable confession, echoing beneath the starlit canopy. 

“I’m sorry. I really like you too. And I didn’t know he was your brother at that time, I’m sorry.” The apology lingers in the night air as you gravitate closer to Jimin. His breath, a gentle caress, plays on your skin. Proximity tightens the space between you until your noses almost touch. A symphony of rapid heartbeats reverberates in the silence. 

An electric charge courses through you as Jimin cups your cheek, his gaze penetrating into the depths of your soul, intertwining two fates under the starlit embrace.

A subdued moan escapes your lips as his touch fans the flames within, setting ablaze the desires you’ve long suppressed. It’s that magnetic pull, the sensation lingering each time Jimin’s presence envelops you, a denial unraveling at last. The tension snaps, akin to a taut elastic band reaching its limit. Eternity seems to pass as you lock eyes with him, noses grazing. Inevitably, his plush, inviting lips find yours. Your hands eagerly cup his cheeks, drawing him closer, intensifying the kiss—a convergence of longing and surrender, an electric union that transcends mere touch.

His lips, plush and tender, evoke the sensation of cotton candy—irresistible, almost ethereal. 

In this stolen moment, the kiss becomes an endless dance, a rhythmic exchange that could easily stretch into eternity. A dormant ember within you, quiet for far too many moments, now kindles to life. The realization floods your senses, a surge of awareness that travels down to where desire ignites. Your panties dampen, awakening the passion swirling between you and Jimin.

Jimin expertly rolls you over, maintaining the unbroken connection of your lips. As he gracefully assumes the position above, a tantalizing dance ensues. The subtle pressure of his hips against your crotch sends shivers through your being. You can feel his erect cock, concealed beneath denim, pressing fervently against you. In a harmonious rhythm, he grinds down, a symphony of need escaping him, as he moans into your mouth.

You gasp for breath, the air thick with lust, your eyes locking onto Jimin’s, both sets heavy-lidded and pupils dilated, mirroring the intoxication that courses through your veins. It’s a heady sensation, a collision of longing and desire that feels almost surreal but undeniably right. Your fingers find his cheeks once more, a possessive urgency guiding your movements as you draw him down towards you. As your lips meet in a fervent kiss, the hunger between you intensifies, a voracious yearning that’s been building for months. Each brush of your lips against his is a moment suspended in time, where your need is laid bare, and the surreal truth of it all leaves you breathless – a fantasy finally materializing into reality.

Jimin gently pulls away, a glistening strand of saliva lingering between your parted lips like an invisible tether, a tangible testament to the magnetic force pulling you both back. His breath hitches, a raw intensity in his eyes as he utters, “Fuck. I want you so bad.”

He exhales, a tangible wave of frustration emanating from him as he plunges back into another searing kiss. His tongue, a silent plea, prods at the barrier of your lips, and in a breathless agreement, you grant him entry. Tongues entwined, a passionate dance ensues, heightened by the rhythmic grind of your core against his. The ache of desire consumes you, a primal need that has been dormant for what feels like an eternity. It’s a shared hunger, an unspoken acknowledgment of mutual longing, as if both of you are starved for each other’s touch.

His hands travel down, tracing the contours of your stomach beneath the fabric of your shirt. A soft, involuntary giggle escapes your lips, betraying the ticklish sensation that dances across your skin. His touch ventures further, slipping beneath the shirt, and you’re met with a surge of anticipation. The warmth of his palms cups your breasts, the delicate barrier of the bra heightening the sensory encounter. A moan escapes into the heated exchange of the kiss, the responsive melody to his skilled touch, as your nipples respond, hardening within the confines of your bra.

You reluctantly part, the air charged with desire, and you confess breathlessly, “I want you so bad too, Jimin.”

Your fingers glide along the contours of his snug shirt, tracing the rhythmic dance of his abdominal muscles beneath the fabric. The aftermath of your prolonged kisses paints his lips a tantalizing shade of red. His tousled, golden locks only add to the captivating disarray of his appearance, a visual symphony that threatens to engulf your senses. Rising with a newfound determination, you assertively push him away, breaking the intoxicating proximity. “I need that shirt off,” you declare, a hunger lingering in your eyes, aching to explore the canvas beneath.

You eagerly tug at his shirt, a silent invitation that he willingly accepts, lifting his arms in a seamless motion to unveil his honey-colored, velvety skin. As your hand grazes over his pectorals, the rhythmic pulse beneath your fingertips resonates with the accelerated beat of his heart—mirroring the anticipation that courses through your own veins. Your gaze traces a tantalizing descent, capturing the sculpted landscape of his face, collarbones, and the inviting expanse of his stomach, where a subtle trail of brown hair beckons you further. The air is charged with desire as your fingers deftly find his belt, unbuckling it, each deliberate motion a step closer to unraveling his dick hiding in his pants.

A throaty moan escapes him, a vulnerable symphony of desire, as you expertly undo his belt. Returning to him, your lips meet in a kiss, the touch soft and tender, like an intimate promise whispered between you two. In the gentle exchange, he tastes like a blend of love and flowers, a heady combination that lingers in the air. Brimming with anticipation, your hands deftly navigate the delicate task of unbuttoning and pulling down his pants, a challenging feat in the confined space of your current sitting position.

Your hand boldly cups his cock, the fabric of his underwear the only barrier between your skin and the pulsating dick beneath. A soft hiss escapes his lips, a symphony of pleasure and anticipation, as you sense the subtle twitch, a physical manifestation of the intensity building between you. The desperate yearning within you intensifies, aching for him with every heartbeat, and as you explore the contours of his cock, the undeniable thickness in your grasp fuels the flames of desire, leaving you breathless with need.

Breaking away from the intoxicating exchange of kisses, you lock eyes with his nearly obsidian orbs, the depth of his gaze holding a universe of unspoken desires. 

“Can I touch you, Jimin?” you inquire, the words charged with both vulnerability and a raw, palpable need.

His teeth capture his bottom lip, a silent struggle playing out as he releases a frustrated exhale. Finally, with a resolute nod, “Fuck, yeah.” 

He raises his hips in anticipation, granting you the freedom to skillfully peel away both his pants and underwear, leaving them discarded somewhere behind you in a forgotten tangle. In this suspended moment, you revel in the sight of him, completely exposed in all his naked glory—an embodiment of your deepest, most intimate fantasies. His beauty surpasses even the vivid images painted by your most explicit dreams. With unabashed admiration, your eyes roam over his form, settling on the scars that grace his hips, perilously close to his crotch. A particularly long one commands attention, stretching from the pinnacle of his hip and tracing a courageous journey downward, almost reaching his knee. Your fingers delicately follow the path of this scar, a silent tribute to the tales etched into his skin.

As your touch navigates the landscape of his scars, you witness the subtle interplay of tension and release in his body, a testament to the vulnerability that accompanies such intimate revelations. His cock responds with a telltale twitch, betraying the electric charge that courses through him in response to your every caress. 

Among the prominent, sprawling scar that graces his hip, you notice a constellation of smaller, shorter scars, each telling its own story. With a delicate touch, your fingertips embark on a tender exploration, tracing the intricate map of his history etched into his skin. 

Meanwhile, his eyes remain hooded, a veil of pleasure shrouding them, while his head arches backward, supported by his hands resting behind him. The cadence of his breath is a slow, deliberate rhythm, accentuating the intimate atmosphere that envelops you both. His teeth find refuge in his bottom lip once more, a silent testament to the waves of sensation cascading through him at your every touch.

“My scars are ugly, don’t look at them,” he confesses, his voice carrying a weight of vulnerability, as if he bears the weight of shame. The realization hits you like a wave—perhaps no one has ever taken the time to remind him that, even adorned with scars, he is undeniably beautiful. Gazing into his eyes, you speak with a gentle resolve, “You are beautiful, and so are your scars.”

With tender determination, your fingers resume their exploration, tracing the intricate paths of his scars. The touch is a reassurance, a gentle affirmation of his worth, and as your fingertips dance along the imprints of his past, a ripple of shivers courses through him. In response, an involuntary twitch emanates from his cock between his legs.

He dismisses your words with a subtle shake of his head, skepticism clouding his expression, but you’re determined to rewrite the narrative etched into his self-perception. He needs to understand the depth of his beauty and uniqueness. Your fingers resume their tender dance, tracing teasingly along the ridges of his scars, each touch carrying the weight of your conviction. “These scars,” you affirm, “they tell your story, a story of resilience and strength. And, my god, they are beautiful, just like you.” 

The words hang in the air, a testament to your unwavering belief in the profound beauty etched into the very fabric of his being.

Witnessing the softening of his gaze, a solitary tear breaking free from the confines of his eyes, you seize the poignant moment to plunge back into a kiss with his lips—soft and plush, like a velvet haven. It’s a moment that transcends time, and in those stolen seconds, you realize you could lose yourself in the artistry of his lips for an eternity.

Heaving with the weight of shared intimacy, his breaths resonate with depth and intensity. As he withdraws, the shadows of his eyes glisten with unshed tears in the night. With a voice that trembles with sincerity, he utters, “Thank you,” a phrase that echoes with layers of gratitude and vulnerability.

Gazing into his eyes, you observe a vulnerability that renders him utterly exposed, laid bare before you. In the depth of his gaze, a profound mixture of emotions surfaces, the hues of desire and longing mingling with the rich brown of his eyes. Embracing him, you pull him into the sanctuary of a hug, your lips brushing against his ear as you murmur, “I’ll keep telling you forever, because I feel like you need to hear it.”

Gently trailing your hand down the terrain of his stomach, your fingertips navigate the uncharted territory until they encounter his neglected cock. The moment your touch cradles him, a guttural groan, steeped in the heady brew of desire, escapes him, echoing in the charged air around you. Your fingers embark on a careful exploration, appreciating the girth and thickness of his dick, veins almost popping out of the poor thing. The flushed redness of the head and a delicate sheen of precum only intensify the allure. Licking your lips in anticipation, you lower yourself. Your lips encircle the engorged head, and in response, a deep, primal moan reverberates from him, resonating with the harmonious dance between pleasure and need that binds you together.

Reclining amidst the soft embrace of grass and wildflowers, you have somehow trailed off your sleeping mats, but you don’t care. Your tongue embarks on an intricate exploration, tracing a sinuous path along his cock, each lick an artful dance that circles around him with an unspoken promise of ecstasy. You’re drooling, and your saliva runs down your cheeks, down his cock and down to his balls.

His dick fills your mouth with a perfect fullness, a tangible overflow of desire. The parts that don’t fit in your mouth are skillfully tended to by your left hand, ensuring no inch of him is left untouched. His legs, betraying the intensity of the sensations, exhibit a subtle yet enticing twitch as you move rhythmically, a symphony of pleasure in every rise and fall.

Your devoted attention centers on his frenulum, a delicate dance of your tongue that elicits the softest, most melodic moan you’ve ever been privy to. The sound, a harmonious melody that resonates like a sweet lullaby, fuels your determination to continue this enraptured dance, even as your eyes threaten to mist with water. The need for air tugs at the edge of your consciousness, yet the ethereal music of his moans compels you to keep sucking.

The air is punctuated by squelching sounds, an audible testament to the fervor with which you suck him, utilizing every ounce of your skill. His hand, a gentle guide, finds solace in the maze of your hair, fingers intertwining as you diligently navigate the rhythmic ascent and descent along his pulsating dick. Sensing the subtle tension beneath your touch, you discern the hastened cadence of his breath, a telltale sign that he might be close.

You surface from the intoxicating depths of his crotch, parting from his cock to catch a breath of much-needed air. In that fleeting moment, as your eyes lock with his, you’re ensnared by the sinful intensity of his gaze. It’s a look so profoundly wicked, so enticingly feral, that you sense the very essence of your being might either melt into a puddle or evaporate into the charged air. 

Pooling a teasing amount of saliva in your mouth, you audaciously release it onto his dick, eliciting a surprised yet lustful chuckle from him. As your mouth envelops him once more, you revel in the tangible connection, savoring the unique sensation he offers. Yet, the sensation also sparks a cascade of anticipatory thoughts, your mind drifting to what it will feel like with his cock deep inside your pussy, and you feel it clench pathetically around nothing. Oh, god, you’re so wet already, it’s like a waterslide in your panties.

In rhythmic harmony with your measured breaths through flared nostrils, you descend along the full length of his dick. The audible moans that escape him blend with the sensation of his fingers tensing in your hair, creating a symphony of pleasure. Gradually, you sense him responding, pushing up into the warmth of your mouth with a deliberate slowness, each controlled thrust an exquisite dance. You relax your jaw and let him thrust into your warm walls. It’s slow and tender, like he’s very mindful not to hurt you.

In a breathless maneuver, you inhale deeply, creating a vacuum of anticipation as you envelop him in the suction of your mouth. A subtle, resonant hum reverberates against his pulsating dick, a seductive melody that prompts a tantalizing twitch within him. His fingers assertively tug at your hair, commanding a release that you give in to. With a sensation-laden pop, you surface from his cock, leaving an electrifying echo of desire lingering in the charged air.

“It’s so fucking good. But you have to stop. I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he pants, his voice a raw fusion of vulnerability and urgent need. As he leans up, the desperation in his tone intensifies, “I want to come inside you.” 

You might as well be surrendering to the abyss, for the power this man holds over you is staggering. The softness in his eyes is laced with an intoxicating lust, and the sly smirk he graces you with sends an electric current straight to your pussy. The dampness between your thighs becomes an undeniable testament to the effect he has on you, as his mere expression ignites a storm of arousal, leaving you helplessly entrapped in the spell he effortlessly casts.

With a firm yet gentle pull, he elevates you into a seated position, an unspoken desire lingering in the air. Urgently, he tugs at your shirt, mirroring the unveiling you orchestrated for him. As the fabric succumbs to gravity, revealing your form, he takes a moment to appreciate the canvas before him. His fingers trace a tantalizing path from your collarbones, across the curve of your breasts, and down to the waistband of your pants. Eyes locked with yours, he skillfully unzips your trousers, teasingly patting your ass before lifting them and guiding the denim down your legs.

The night air caresses your bare skin, its touch not a chill, but a soothing embrace. Despite the darkness that cloaks the surroundings, the lingering warmth from the day creates an intimate ambiance, allowing the freedom of being naked outside to feel not only acceptable but almost cocooned in a sensual comfort.

“Babe,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping between your open legs, a single finger delicately tracing the contours of your pussy, “You’re soaked.” 

You bite down on your lip, a flutter of lust coursing through you, as his finger skims the exterior of your panties, causing them to uncomfortably adhere to the contours of your folds. The urgency intensifies, a palpable desire radiating from your core, a silent plea echoing in your mind—you need them off, and you need it now.

“No need to silence yourself; it’s just us beneath the open sky,” he gently reminds you. With his reassuring words, you liberate your teeth from the captivity of your lips, allowing the unabashed moans of pleasure to cascade freely from your mouth, blending with the nocturnal symphony surrounding the two of you.

His fingers dance over your clit through the fabric of your panties, coaxing a guttural groan from the depths of your stomach. The subtle tremor of your thighs betrays the exquisite intensity of the sensation, a response that echoes through the sultry night air like a secret shared only between you two.

A smug smirk graces his lips, a silent promise of the pleasures yet to unfold, as his hands maneuver deftly up and behind your back, skillfully releasing the constraints of your bra. It cascades down to your lap, unveiling your liberated tits that eagerly spring forth. His hands, warm and purposeful, eagerly grope the newly revealed treasures, gently massaging your boobs.

Diving in with hunger, he presses kisses atop them, an unhurried descent leading him further down and to the left. His plush lips encircle a pert nipple, initiating a sensory dance that sends ripples of ecstasy through you.

“Fuck,” escapes your lips in a resonant moan, a symphony of pleasure commencing as he avidly sucks at one nipple while his fingers skillfully engage with the other. The sensation is beyond exquisite, a tidal wave of arousal surging through you. A fleeting realization of your panties still sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Yet, the relentless attention he bestows upon your breasts holds you captive, rendering you powerless to do anything but surrender to the intoxicating pleasure.

And take it you do, as his tongue deftly laps at your nipple, each stroke a rhythmic dance that occasionally escalates into a teasing bite, sending electric sparks that illuminate your vision with stars. Simultaneously, his fingers tug at the other nipple, orchestrating a symphony of pleasure that resonates through your body. As his exploration continues, you feel the warmth of his saliva tracing a tantalizing path down your breasts, descending over your stomach like a sensual cascade. The molten trail reaches the brink of your panties, a frustrating barrier to the carnal desire that courses through you.

With a tantalizing pop, he releases your left nipple, ascending to your mouth for a kiss that’s both needy and all-consuming, as if he can’t satiate his hunger for you. The fervor in his lips translates into an intense connection, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. 

Descending once again, his focus shifts to the other nipple, where he wraps his lips around it, initiating a dance of sucking and biting that elicits unrestrained moans from deep within you. Simultaneously, his fingers weave an intricate symphony on the previous touched nipple, propelling you into a realm of uncharted pleasure. The crescendo builds, and you moan unabashedly, teetering on the edge of an orgasm, the anticipation of release hanging in the charged air.

He persists in his relentless assault, biting and pulling with an intensity that coils a spring deep within your stomach. As the tension reaches its zenith, the spring snaps, unleashing a torrent of arousal that surges through you, adhering to your panties in a sticky testament to the powerful release. The realization hits like a thunderbolt – you just came without the direct touch on your clit. The sheer amazement washes over you, compounded by the rhythmic pants for air, transforming the aftermath into a heady cocktail of astonishment and unbridled ecstasy.

He relinquishes his hold on your breasts, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as if savoring a delectable feast. With a hungry gaze, he looks at you, and you can almost feel the intensity of his desire – as if he’s contemplating devouring you whole. 

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, a prelude to a ravenous declaration, “I want to taste your pussy too.” The words hang in the air, charged with a primal hunger that echoes the undeniable craving between you.

Your pussy continues to pulsate, a rhythmic echo of the recent orgasm, its clenching sensation persisting even in the absence of direct touch. Biting your lip, you nod your head in silent agreement. The desire intensifies, a relentless ache for the magic of his lips and the dance of his tongue on your pussy.

His fingers trace a tantalizing path to your hips, teasingly tugging at the edge of your panties. With deliberate intent, he pulls them off, a gentle yet purposeful maneuver that leaves your arousal adhering to the fabric, forming a glistening string of liquid in its wake. 

His gaze lowers between your legs, and he licks his lips with a deliberate slowness, an anticipation building with every inch he descends towards the place you ache for his touch. But just before he immerses himself in your pussy, he looks up, locking eyes with you. In that fleeting moment, he bestows upon you the softest look, so angelic and innocent, creating a deceptive contrast to the sinful delights you know he’s about to unleash upon you. 

As the first tantalizing touch of his tongue graces your folds, an instantaneous moan escapes your lips, and a kaleidoscope of stars seems to burst behind your closed eyelids. His tongue skillfully dances across your lips, a deliberate sweep that not only dissipates the lingering echoes of the previous orgasm but also revels in the unique taste of your essence. 

His tongue, a sinful indulgence, possesses a length that seems to explore the depths of your walls with deliberate precision. The unhurried entrance sends shivers through your core, each languid movement a seductive dance that unfurls the layers of pleasure. 

He fervently licks at your folds, savoring every essence, his tongue a relentless tide that laps up the intoxicating cascade of your juices. As you lean back on your arms, the anticipation of a new orgasm steadily builds within the depths of your stomach. Suddenly, a finger makes contact with your clit, and a moan of desire escapes your lips. Panting and gasping, your naked chest rises and falls above him, caught in the rhythm of a primal dance, as he devours you with the hunger of a man starved.

His skillful touch initiates a hypnotic dance, tracing sensuous circles around your clit. 

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m—” you begin to say amidst breathy pants, and suddenly, a new sensation courses down your ass. The realization hits— it’s one of his slickened fingers, probing at the hole there. 

Gradually, he eases his finger inside, and an involuntary clenching reaction coupled with erratic breaths engulf you. Thoughts scatter, the intensity of this entirely new sensation overwhelming your senses. It’s foreign, yet undeniably not unpleasant; in fact, it’s oddly good, a revelation that surprises you. As his finger delves a bit deeper, you feel the subtle stretch, accompanied by a moan that weaves into the midnight air.

“You said I should stick it up my ass. How does it feel with my finger up yours?” he taunts, his voice laced with a provocative edge that sends a shiver down your spine. As you clench around his invading finger, a surge of arousal releases a trickle of liquid from your pussy. The sensation is overwhelming, igniting a primal heat that consumes you entirely. Fuck, why is this so hot?

With deliberate tenderness, he eases his finger into your hole, maintaining a steady rhythm that tantalizingly grazes the threshold of previous depths. The sensation is nothing short of exquisite, sending ripples of pleasure cascading through every fiber of your being. But as quickly as the euphoria engulfs you, he withdraws his finger, leaving you to groan in a poignant emptiness that echoes through the night air. 

He lifts his head, locking eyes with you, his gaze penetrating the depths of your blown-out eyes. “You liked that, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that reverberates with a potent mixture of satisfaction and desire. The intensity of his stare ignites a fire within you, each word laden with the weight of pleasure and unspoken longing.

You bite your lips, a fleeting moment of hesitation passing through your mind as you contemplate the truth. But the honesty between you is palpable, a silent understanding that binds you together in this intimate moment. “I did,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of undeniable desire, a raw admission that lays bare the depths of your longing.

“That’s good to know,” he chuckles, the sound reverberating through the night like a whispered promise. With a hunger that borders on desperation, he kisses you again, his lips consuming yours in a full embrace that tastes of your essence. It’s a kiss that’s wet and sloppy, needy and unapologetic, yet every sensation only serves to deepen the flames between you. And as you savor the taste of his lips against yours, you’re reminded of the intoxicating allure that drew you to him in the first place, igniting a flame that burns brighter with each passing moment.

He returns to your pussy with a hunger that borders on obsession, his lips eagerly tasting every inch of you while his skilled fingers tease your clit with a maddening precision. His tongue, devilishly good, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, compelling you to arch your back and press your core deeper into his face. The sight of his glistening cheeks, adorned with your essence, ignites a primal urge within you, a visceral desire to consume and be consumed in return. With his head between your legs, he becomes a vision of untamed passion, his devotion to your pleasure evident in every caress and every lingering kiss.

With the skill of a master, he works his fingers over your clit in a mesmerizing dance, tracing circles that send sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins. His touch is both gentle and assertive, at times pulling on your sensitive nub, eliciting a chorus of moans that echo in the heated air around you. Each movement sets your body ablaze with a searing intensity, every sensation heightening your arousal until you feel like you’re consumed by a blazing inferno of desire.

As he continues his relentless assault on your senses, you feel the coil of desire winding tighter and tighter, on the verge of unraveling at any moment. The dual sensation of his sucking at your clit while his finger expertly rubs it pushes you over the edge, and with a primal cry, the coil inside you finally snaps. 

A powerful wave of liquid cascades over his face, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. Gasping for air, your vision momentarily blurs, spots dancing before your eyes as the intensity of the moment washes over you. You feel the liquid trickling down your folds, leaving a trail of evidence on the grass or flowers beneath you.

As Jimin continues to lick and coax you through the euphoric waves of your orgasm, you ride out the intense sensations until you gently tug on his blonde hair, a silent signal that it’s becoming too much to bear. Sensing your need, he obediently returns, his lips meeting yours in a modest kiss that speaks volumes of his reverence for you. 

“You’re so hot, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his words laced with genuine admiration and a hint of awe, leaving you with a lingering warmth.

For some inexplicable reason, a blush graces your cheeks, a subtle yet undeniable testament to the torrent of emotions swirling within you. It’s a curious juxtaposition, considering the uninhibited pleasures you’ve shared thus far. Yet, amidst the intoxicating haze of desire, there’s a deeper sensation stirring within you—a profound sense of being utterly and unequivocally full, not just of passion, but of an overwhelming and boundless love.

“Can I make love to you?” he asks, his voice a tender whisper that reverberates through the charged air between you. As his eyes search yours, a silent plea etched into their depths, his breath washes over your face, carrying with it the intoxicating scent of him—sweet and musky, a heady blend that envelops you in a cocoon of desire and longing.

“God, yes!” you moan fervently, your voice a breathless plea that echoes in the heated space between you. With an instinctual urgency, you open your legs wider, a silent invitation that beckons him closer, drawing him into the intimate embrace of your pussy with an irresistible pull.

He lays you down gently on a fragrant bed of bluebonnets, their sweet, flowery scent wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, infusing the night air with a delicate fragrance that speaks of love and serenity. As you pant softly, your eyes drink in the sight of Jimin poised above you, a vision of strength and vulnerability intertwined. His scars, a testament to his journey, only add to his allure, while his tender gaze holds you in a spellbinding trance. With deliberate movements, he hovers closer, his hand stroking his dick.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He asks, a note of realization creeping into his voice as he acknowledges the crucial detail he nearly overlooked. 

You shake your head, a sense of disappointment washing over you like a wave crashing against the shore. Despite the nagging concern for safety, your desire burns fiercely, eclipsing rational thought with an unyielding craving for closeness. 

“No, I don’t. I’m on the pill and I’m clean, are you?” You inquire, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and urgency, a silent plea for reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

He chuckles softly, the sound a mixture of amusement and apprehension. “Yeah, I usually always wear protection too, but I really didn’t plan on this happening tonight,” he admits, his words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “You’re okay without it?” He asks, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, his concern for your well-being evident in the furrow of his brow.

“I’m good, just fuck me, Jimin,” you pant, your voice trembling with a raw mixture of desire and urgency. With a fervent desperation, you spread your legs even wider, your glistening pussy shimmering in the moonlight, a beacon of temptation that beckons him closer. The sight leaves him licking his lips in unadulterated lust, his gaze fixated on you with a hunger that mirrors your own.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes his dick once more, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. Aligning himself with your eager entrance, he begins to push his cock into your welcoming embrace, each inch a tantalizing reminder of the intimacy you’re about to share.

As he enters you, a surge of sensation washes over you, and you’re struck by the realization that he’s thicker than you anticipated. A fleeting moment of panic flits through your mind as you remember that he didn’t stretch you beforehand, but to your surprise, the slickness of your arousal makes the slide effortless. There’s no discomfort, only a delicious feeling of fullness that leaves you breathless with pleasure.

He reaches the deepest recesses of your being, his balls grazing your folds, and a primal moan escapes your lips as he ignites a firestorm of sensation within you. 

Every inch of him stretches you to your limits, leaving you feeling gloriously full and alive with desire. With each withdrawal, a shiver races down your spine, only to be replaced by an electrifying jolt of pleasure as he thrusts back in. 

The intensity of it all is overwhelming, sending you spiraling into a frenzy of ecstasy that surpasses even your most vivid fantasies. It’s everything you’ve ever imagined, and yet, so much more—so much better than your wildest wettest dreams.

You revel in the sensation of his dick twitching inside your pussy, a primal confirmation of his arousal that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. With each powerful thrust, the simplicity of the missionary position becomes a conduit for profound intimacy, every movement drawing you closer together in a passionate dance of desire. You’re soaking wet, to be honest, you’re dripping. His cock feels like a revelation, igniting flames of ecstasy that consume you wholly, leaving you utterly lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your passion.

His hands, initially anchored on either side of your hips, move across your trembling form. Each caress leaves a trail of tingling sensations in its wake, electrifying your senses with a fervent urgency. As his fingers glide over your curves, they pause upon the soft swell of your breasts, lingering there with an almost reverent touch. With a gentle tug on your nipple, he elicits a fervent moan of pure pleasure from your lips, each sensation unraveling you further in the throes of unabashed ecstasy.

As he continues to thrust deeply into you, his fingers teasing your sensitive nipple, you find yourself drawn to the raw intensity etched across his features. His expression, a captivating blend of desire and longing, captivates your gaze, his furrowed brow a testament to the depth of his passion. His eyes, wide and dilated with arousal, hold you in their hypnotic gaze, each glance igniting flames of longing within your core. His plush, red lips beckon to you with an irresistible allure, stirring an overwhelming urge to taste him once more, to lose yourself in him.

“Kiss,” you pant, your voice a desperate plea that hangs heavy in the air, and he chuckles softly at your fervent request. Without hesitation, he leans down to meet your lips, his kiss a fiery collision of passion and need, even as he continues to drive his dick into your heated depths with unwavering intensity. 

Each brush of his lips against yours sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

“Fuck, you’re amazing babe,” he groans, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and desire, as he drives himself into you with a fervent urgency tempered by tender affection. Each powerful thrust is a testament to his adoration, his movements a symphony of passion and intimacy that leave you breathless with longing.

“Jimin, I—” you gasp, the words caught in your throat as he delves deeper into your depths, a surge of pleasure coursing through you as he gathers your legs and presses them against his shoulders, driving himself even further into your pussy.

Your gasping, overwhelmed by the depth of sensation as he plunges into you, exploring places you never knew existed, igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every fiber of your being. It’s as if he’s reaching parts of you that have long remained dormant, his every movement sending shockwaves of ecstasy cascading through your body, leaving you teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

When he delivers a particularly powerful thrust, you surrender to the overwhelming wave of emotions coursing through you, your heart soaring as you release the words that have been simmering within, “I love you.”

With a husky grunt, he responds, his voice a low rumble filled with an undeniable tenderness, “I know, babe.”

Gazing at him through a veil of desire, your breath ragged with anticipation, you press him for clarity, your voice trembling with curiosity, “What do you mean, you know?”

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he withdraws completely, leaving you with a sense of emptiness that mirrors the sudden absence of his presence within you. “You told me at the gala,” he explains, his voice carrying a hint of amusement and fond remembrance, casting a glow of warmth over the memory.

Your expression morphs into a puzzled question mark once more, prompting another bout of laughter from him as he teasingly teases at your entrance once more.

“When you told me you hated me, you also said you love me,” he reveals, his voice laced with a mixture of humor and desire, before driving his dick back into you with an intensity that leaves you gasping, your cries of pleasure echoing in the night, mingling with the sounds of nature around you. You’re almost afraid you might startle the horses with all your noises.

“Fuck, I did?” you gasp incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief and arousal, feeling the powerful grip of your pussy tightening around his cock, as if it’s instinctively pulling him deeper, craving the connection with an intensity that matches your own desire.

“Yeah. It was actually really hot. Do you know how sexy you are when you’re mad?” He leans down, gently pressing your thighs against your stomach, drawing you into an intimate embrace as he lowers his lips to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “I love you too.”

You’re consumed by a surge of sensation, questioning whether he’s grown larger or you’ve become tighter, the intense throbbing and twitching of his dick inside you driving you to the brink of madness. Every nerve in your body is alight, ablaze with desire, leaving you gasping for breath as if on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

As he ascends, his hand resumes its gentle ministrations on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. The intensity is overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of release once more. Every fiber of your being is electrified, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You feel like you could come at any moment now.

Despite the exhaustion that blankets your body with the way that he fucks you, you’re enveloped in a whirlwind of love and desire that leaves you feeling utterly spent yet infinitely fulfilled.

“Ahhh, fuck!” You cry out, the sensation of him delving so deep sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through every nerve ending, igniting a kaleidoscope of sensations that leave you seeing stars and unraveling at the seams.

“That’s it, babe. You’re taking me so well,” he pants, his voice thick with desire and need, echoing the frantic rhythm of your own breathless gasps. “I’m almost there. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you moan, elongating the word as if savoring its taste, your voice a symphony of pleasure and desire. Every nerve in your body ignites with a fiery intensity, fueled by the intoxicating sensations Jimin evokes. His touch, his presence, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a blissful surge that consumes your very being.

As Jimin’s pace intensifies on your clit, perfectly synchronized with the depth of his thrusts, you surrender to the torrent of sensations cascading through your body. 

Every touch, every movement, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a culmination of the emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface for months. With each exquisite moment, you release the pent-up tension, allowing yourself to be consumed by the raw, unbridled passion between you and Jimin— you simply let go.

“Jimin!” The cry tears from your lips like a primal invocation as you spiral into your third orgasm, a deluge of ecstasy flooding around his throbbing cock. 

You’re left panting, a disheveled portrait of desire, as your core tightens around him, pulsing with each wave of release, coating his dick in a glistening sheen of your arousal.

“Fuck!” His voice is a raw mix of frustration and longing, his body trembling as your insatiable pussy seems to draw him deeper into your depths, culminating in a primal moan of your name as he spills his essence inside you.

You’re both left breathless, your bodies suffused with a warmth that courses through every inch of your skin, igniting a tingling sensation that dances along your nerves. It’s not just the aftermath of passion; it’s a shared ecstasy that leaves you both on the brink of shivering, though not from the chill of the night air.

As you ride out the waves of your climax, he continues to thrust inside you, his warmth flooding your depths, and you revel in the raw intimacy of it all. Even as his dick gradually softens, he remains nestled within you, both of you panting for air.

Droplets of sweat trickle down from his forehead, teasing your breasts with their warm caress. Despite the exhaustion etched on his face, he still radiates a captivating allure that leaves you breathless.

You feel the warmth of his semen trickling out of your pussy, tracing a tantalizing path down to your ass, leaving you feeling both sticky and sweaty.

You gently lower your legs from his shoulders, allowing them to find solid ground beside him. Gasping for air, a wide grin spreads across your face, punctuated by playful giggles. Jimin leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that elicits a soft moan from you. Breaking away, he grins, revealing his endearingly crooked teeth—a sight that never fails to warm your heart. Damn, you love this man.

You lose track of time with him nestled on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he remains inside your pussy. The gentle thud of his beating heart against your chest creates a soothing rhythm, one that seems to sync perfectly with your own. 

In that moment, entwined together, it feels like your souls are dancing to the same beautiful melody.

As he withdraws from you, he gracefully shifts onto his side, beckoning you to join him on his sleeping mat. You comply eagerly, settling yourself beside him, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. With a tender gesture, he draws both blankets over your entwined forms, cocooning you both in a comforting embrace against the night’s chill.

Entwined in each other’s arms, you drift into slumber, lulled by the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby in the stillness of the night. With your head nestled against his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beneath you, you find solace in the intimacy of the moment. Your fingertips trace delicate patterns on his pectorals. As you lie there, embraced by the tender embrace of nature, the symphony of the wilderness envelops you, a melodic harmony of chirping crickets and dancing fireflies. Above, the celestial canopy twinkles with a myriad of stars, casting a celestial glow upon your sanctuary, a sanctuary where time stands still and love knows no bounds.

As the first light of dawn paints patterns of gold through the foliage, coaxing you from slumber, you awaken beside Jimin, cocooned in the warmth of his presence. Stretching languidly, you feel the gentle weight of his body beside you, a comforting anchor in the hazy morning. Nestling closer to him, you bury your face into the curve of his chest, savoring the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you greet the new day softly, your voice a whispered melody against the tranquil stillness, “Morning.”

He stirs beneath you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, a sound that resonates deep within your core. His gentle touch traces the curve of your spine, sending shivers cascading down your skin, igniting a familiar heat within you. The memory of last night dances at the edges of your consciousness, teasing and tantalizing, as his fingers linger on the curve of your ass, coaxing your body to life with every caress.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” His voice, warm and inviting, rouses you from the haze of sleep, like the first light of dawn piercing through the darkness. You blink away the remnants of dreams, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. His laughter, a melody of morning, dances in the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. As he opens his eyes, you find yourself captured by the depth of his gaze, a silent exchange of morning greetings between two souls entwined in the quiet serenity of dawn.

“Amazing,” you exhale the word against his chest, the warmth of your breath mingling with the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Soft kisses pepper his skin, each one a testament to the tenderness between you, yet there’s a playful edge as your teeth graze his flesh, drawing forth a soft chuckle from him, like music to your ears, a sweet symphony of affection.

He moves with a fluid grace, rolling you over and settling above you as the weight of his presence envelops you once more. His lips meet yours in a gentle caress, carrying the essence of dawn itself, a blend of morning flowers and the earthy musk of the forest. You inhale deeply, savoring his scent as it ignites a primal longing within you, tightening your core with desire. With a soft moan, you surrender to his kiss, your hands pulling him closer, as if trying to meld your beings together in a timeless embrace, unable to quench the thirst for his lips.

You sense the subtle twitch of his cock against your crotch. The warmth of his skin against yours reignites the embers of desire, and you become acutely aware of your nakedness, a lingering sensation from your passionate sex last night, that you still feel wet from. The memory of his touch lingers, and your body responds instinctively, still tingling with the echoes of pleasure. As your mind drifts, envisioning how easy it would be for him to slip right into your walls again, a shiver courses through you, your breath catching at the mere thought, while your core instinctively clenches, yearning for his familiar touch.

“Are you okay, babe?” Concern colors Jimin’s voice as he notices the faint furrow of frustration on your brow. 

You offer him a soft smile, your fingertips tracing the contours of his cheeks with affectionate tenderness. “I’m absolutely wonderful, Jimin,” you confess, your voice laced with longing and a hint of playful desire. “I just miss you and I want you inside of me again already.”

“Oh, yeah?” His teasing tone sends a shiver down your spine as he playfully grinds his cock against your drenched pussy. You gasp at the sensation, overwhelmed by the flood of arousal coursing through your veins. How could you still be so wet, so ready for him, even after everything? 

It’s like your body has a mind of its own, craving his touch with an insatiable hunger.

His dick presses against you, throbbing with anticipation, and as he eases his fully erect cock between your slick folds, a rush of pleasure surges through you, igniting every nerve ending. Your moans escape in soft gasps, lost in the bliss of his touch, as you feel the heat of his dick melding perfectly with your own.

Each movement of his cock inside you feels like a divine symphony, a perfect rhythm that resonates through your entire being. With each deep thrust, he fills you so completely, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Your breasts sway in tandem with his movements, a visual testament to the intense pleasure he’s giving you, each pull and thrust sending you spiraling into euphoria.

As your hands find their way to his back, you grip onto him with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed, the intensity of pleasure coursing through you like electricity. Then, as you tilt your head to the side, your eyes catch a glimpse of it— Mikrokosmos.

“Jimin-ah!” You pant urgently, your voice breaking the rhythm of your thrusts. When he catches sight of your startled expression, he halts his movements, his gaze instantly flooded with concern.

“What’s wrong, babe?” His voice carries genuine concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

“It’s Mikrokosmos!” You exclaim, a mixture of awe and urgency in your voice as you tear your gaze away from Jimin to focus on the majestic sight. Sensing the shift in your demeanor, Jimin withdraws from your folds and joins you, his eyes following your gaze to where your black horse grazes lazily nearby.

You rise to your feet, embarking on a quest for your scattered garments, your fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties, eliciting a frustrated groan. Resolving to not put them on, you swiftly opt for your pants, slipping into them with haste. With determination, you locate your bra and shirt, swiftly adorning yourself in a flurry of movements. Meanwhile, Jimin is engaged in a similar pursuit, his efforts mirroring yours as he hastily dons his own attire. 

Amidst the shared chaos of dressing, your laughter fills the air, a delightful symphony blending with the rustle of fabric and the gentle morning breeze.

As you don your attire with practiced efficiency, you slide your boots on, the leather molding comfortably around your feet. With deliberate steps, you approach Mikrokosmos, the ground yielding softly beneath your weight. Jimin shadows your movements, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the morning serenity. Each stride brings you closer to the majestic creature, your heart echoing the rhythm of hoofbeats as you draw near.

“Come here, girl,” you murmur, your hand extended like an open invitation. Mikrokosmos raises her head, her gaze fixated on you, a mysterious glint dancing in her eyes, elusive yet captivating. 

With measured steps, she saunters toward you, a graceful dance of trust unfolding with each stride. As her velvety muzzle meets your outstretched hand, a surge of warmth envelops you, a sense of belonging washing over your soul. With a gentle whinny, she nuzzles against your palm, a silent affirmation of the bond between kindred spirits. “Good girl,” you whisper, your voice a tender melody amidst the tranquil embrace of nature.

You pivot slowly, no halter, no rope, no nothing, your gaze fixed ahead with quiet determination, “Let’s go home.”

Mikrokosmos follows your lead with unwavering trust, her hoofbeats falling into rhythm with your purposeful strides. Jimin’s eyes reflect admiration as he watches your natural affinity with the majestic creature. Returning to the other horses, you secure a rope around Mikrokosmos’s head, just in case she should get any ideas of leaving again, before tending to your belongings with practiced efficiency.

You saddle up Marshmallow, feeling the familiar comfort of the leather beneath your hands. Leading Mikrokosmos by the rope, you guide her onto the path, her presence beside you a reassuring anchor amidst the vast expanse of wilderness. 

The serendipitous encounter with Mikrokosmos fills you with an indescribable joy, as if destiny itself had intervened to bring you together. With each step, your heart swells with gratitude and happiness, a feeling that courses through your veins like a warm embrace.

As the trail meanders homeward, you turn to Jimin, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Thank you, Jimin,” you whisper, the words carried away on the gentle breeze, a heartfelt acknowledgment of his unwavering support. 

His warm smile washes over you, and you feel a rush of gratitude for his understanding. “No problem at all. I’m just glad to be here and help,” he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the same tenderness that fills your heart. Drawing closer, you intertwine your fingers with his, the simple act weaving a thread of intimacy between you. In that moment, riding side by side, the world fades away, leaving only the comforting embrace of each other’s presence.

His question catches you off guard, but the warmth in his voice draws you in. “Do you remember your fifth birthday?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes, as if unraveling a cherished memory. His lips, so inviting and tender, curve into a smile, inviting you to journey back to that moment in time with him.

You chuckle softly, because you do remember, the memory flooding back like a cherished melody. You recall the innocence of that day, the laughter shared between you and Jimin as you played hide and seek, weaving tales of fantastical adventures. In that moment, surrounded by the whispers of childhood dreams, you realize the depth of your love with Jimin, sensing that perhaps there’s more to your bond than just friendship. It’s a realization that tugs at the strings of your heart, igniting a spark of hope for something more.

“Do you remember when you told me that guys couldn’t be friends with girls, that you’d get boy-lice or something?” he grins, his voice laced with nostalgia as he squeezes your hand gently. You roll your eyes playfully, the memory sparking a smile on your lips, because yes, you remember that too.

“I know I was insufferable back then,” you confess, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you wave off the memory.

“You weren’t. But you were oblivious to the fact that I had feelings for you back then, weren’t you?” He chuckles again, his laughter like a sweet melody that resonates deep within you, leaving you longing for more.

“I honestly didn’t. I just thought you were being a typical boy. But hey, I was five—how was I supposed to grasp the concept of love at that age?” You laugh lightly, a soft smile playing on your lips as you reminisce about the innocence of childhood.

He chuckles softly, his gaze holding a hint of curiosity, “It doesn’t matter now. But I was wondering…”

You find yourself lost in his hazel brown eyes, their warmth enveloping you, as you’re drawn to his captivating smile. With a soft breath, you respond, “Yes?”

With a tender gaze, he lays his heart bare before you, his words echoing with sincerity and vulnerability. “If you want to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to waste anymore time. I love you and I want us to be together,” he asks, his voice tapering off, a hint of uncertainty creeping in. Yet, you offer him solace, intertwining your fingers with his, leaning into his side, and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, affirming your affection without words.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Jimin.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[sprinkleonthatcriticism]

Seeing the twitter dorks calling Jack out for "grooming" a minor is really annoying considering that I'm a grooming victim myself and I know for hell it ISN'T grooming Yippee-boi CW// Mentions of child grooming

It all started when Yippee shared a piece of fanart of Lucifer's oc, Idot-boy (who is a hypersexual sona like is meant to represent Jack's traumas just as his hypersexuality due to it's past experiences with SA and incest) so Yippee drew xe's hypersexual sona with it's sona.

I look at the image and yeah I can see where people got their "It's suggestive" from because Yippee's sona does look pretty suggestive but at the end of the day, it's just a sona that is use to cope with mental health just as hypersexuality.

And people are trying to use this comment as a catch 20 with Jack. Which, I don't see how that is grooming??? It's just

And then there's this (context: the person is Hyuuuuk who by judging from their profile, they happily call theirselves a huge Birdie hater which is pretty pathetic, oh and in the comment, they simply tell Jack to not talk to the minor and this was under this art which was posted before the hypersexual one).

People on twitter been using that comment as a "gotcha" but they don't actually do research and realize that "Hey, this comment is actually from the minor's different art piece NOT the other one" and maybe if they did, they would realize that Jack isn't being weird.

Like, maybe if Koish explain what the problem is Jack would understand because this isn't the first time where it didn't know he did something controversial until someone told him the problem.

But anyways, back on topic, the first screenshot is where Lucifer is simply complimenting the art featuring the two hypersexual sonas which yeah, like I said I can GET where you guys are coming from but again, Jack isn't being a groomer here or predatory. Is the comment weird? Yes, if people read it wrong and assume it's a suggestive comment somehow where to me, it's literally Jack saying that the art is "yummy" and then proceeding to type 'nom nom nom' jokingly eating it..

Now, this does not mean I won't call Jack out on one thing which is it shouldn't of spoken to a minor since the kid is like 15 and on Jack's tumblr's bio, it says 16+.

But I'm gonna give him the benefit of a doubt and assume that it thought it was fine since the minor was almost 16 which doesn't excuse it and I think that Lucifer should address it and that people need to stop calling it "grooming" or going on twitter comparing Jack's sexual assaulter to him which is....disgusting??? I myself am a victim of child grooming in the past and like I said, I know what is or isn't grooming and that wasn't child grooming because as Jack mentioned and the minor mentioned is that they both never dm'd or pm'd each other. Granted, they could both LYING about that but at the end of the day you have to just take their words for it unless someone comes out with evidence that yes, they were both in fact in dms and were both in fact being weird.

(Link to 15 yr old's response)

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC cast x supportive!reader (platonic)

except its hyper specific and applies to my oc specifically because i need a little pick me up today reader is like the circus members anchor as well as a generally serving as a support system and has been in the circus for a while. havent decided on how long but definitely getting close to kinger in terms of how long theyve been stuck. kind of gives off dad energy have not shared the oc here on this blog but i have shared them elsewhere, wont say where because im embarrassed </3 this was originally gonna be a ship chart dynamic but im too tired to draw everyone plus this feels more fun using 'you/your' pronouns for the reader even though its an oc so you guys can at least like, insert yourself REMINDER requests are closed, this is a personal request from myself. any requests sent now will not be answered even after they reopen. please respect that and understand that requests are closed

CAINE:

saved caine for last (yes i know hes the first one in the list hush i dont actually write these in order) i think you and him would have friendly back and forth banter. youve accepted your place in the digital circus long ago so you dont see much point in trying to interrogate him for information on a possible exit. and sure, i dont know if caine can abstract, but i think he enjoys the conversations between the two of you... that said, given how accepting you are with everything as well as having a "roll with it" outlook on the digital world, he probably uses you as plot stuff and props for IHA; be it as a false hostage or as a means to progress the adventure... definitely has a soft spot for you, i think... jax and bubble have a dark bet on when you will finally abstract/j

RAGATHA:

ah yes the optimistic duo, the hopeful pals, the sillies. you two are probably the main reason why everyone else is... mostly... fine, i mean i think having someone be so friendly and open cane make things a little easier for other people. as well as this you two mutually lean on each other for support and uplift one another when things get tough. i mention it in kingers part, but you too are also afraid of bugs but you would help ragatha clear her room of centipedes in a heartbeat, even going as far as to collect them with your bare hands.. so uh... take that as a testament to yalls friendship

JAX:

now im a little stumped on this one because i really dont think the "reader" would be buddy buddy with jax... or maybe they would be... hmm.. on one hand i can see them scolding him for pushing his pranks 'too far' (ex. the ragatha centipede thing, assuming he actually did it), but i can also see a "supportive figure and rebellious kid" dynamic. except jax isnt a kid but you are old enough be his dad, probably.. i think ill just leave that here since i dont have any other ideas

POMNI:

youve been here for a while, so i think naturally pomni would gravitate towards you in order for possible solutions and escape routes, perhaps she would approach kinger, too... but this isnt about kinger </3. fine line between outright shattering their hope but also instilling it, neither are great options... one can lead to despair and the other to obsession; both will lead to abstraction... but theres also the fact none of your past attempts at escape had been successful, nor did you ever find any leads. as for actual potential friendship i think you would take the same route as ragatha in the pilot; show her around and explain things to her in a fairly digestible way. as well as this you tend to gravitate towards her during her first IHA until she gets the hang of them; typically making sure she doesnt get lost or hurt, as well as giving her pointers that could help with the task at hand

KINGER:

writing kinger first, you guys are like the dads of the circus. you more so because you still have a decent hold of yourself. you were there when queener/queenie abstracted, and you were there for kinger during the still on going grieving process. as for actually friendship ideas, you two just sit and talk to one another. thats it, really. i could go on about all the things you two do together, and i probably would since kinger is my favorite and this post is literally about my oc... but i truly dont see these two getting up to anything insane outside of IHA. kinger needs someone to help him fill the silence, and you would be there. and vice versa, i think... bonus, you dont like bugs but you still grin and bare it while listening to kinger rattle on about his cool bug facts... i think that would be nice..

ZOOBLE:

optimistic dad who likes fishing and moody teen who bullies kids on roblox. thats literally the dynamic, except again, zooble is an adult and the reader has no kids... but hey its the same energy. tries to get zooble to engage with IHA but not in a pushy way but more in like... an inviting them to pair with them for comfort and security kind of way. sure you understand that they dont like them because theyre just so over everything but you want them to be included, especially since the IHA are meant to stimulate your minds and keep you guys grounded

GANGLE:

honestly i think you just adopt half of the cast at this point, the only people who arent your kids are ragatha caine and kinger... everyone else gets passed around in split custody/j now onto gangle, you probably try to give her peptalks to make her feel better as well as fixing her comedy mask anytime it breaks. as well as this i think you and her sit down and do arts n crafts together, perhaps even making new masks altogether... i like to think gangle hears a few... things about the others and knows things since shes so quiet and in the background so theres definitely some 'gossip' between the two of you... but not in a shit talking way, no i dont think either of you are like that, rather more so just talking about the others

BONUS STUFF:

you call gangle, zooble, jax, and pomni generic 'dad nicknames' so like. think sport, champ, bud, pal. stuff like that, with varying reactions... i think gangle wouldnt fight it and actually appreciates it. zooble scoffs and rolls their eyes, jax plays into it while loudly and obnoxiously calling you dad. (whenever you ask him to do something he loudly goes like "okay DAAAAAAD" before likely not doing the thing that was asked of him), pomni is just confused really since shes not all that used to it. huh. guess youre a dad of 4 now

you and ragatha tend to clean up after the others, leaving you two alone and you guys just. talk as you clean. probably do impressions of the others in a really comical and dramatic as well as exchanging stories

you and kinger hunt for new pillows to add to his fort. you try to coax him into stepping out of the tent and explore the grounds, so far you're unsuccessful

touching on the gossip thing from gangles part caine probably tries to ask you for some "juicy drama" about the others. who is having issues with her, whos crushing on who, stuff like that... i think caine would try to play matchmaker if there actually is someone who has a crush on someone else... this goes for the current cast as well as those who have come and gone from the digital circus (cough cough abstracted)

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory: Chapter Twenty

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol 😉, Flirting, Suggestive Language, Insinuated Sex (off page- you horn dogs got enough last week 😂) Smoking, Some mild anxiety, someone 👀 makes some questionable choices, internal monologue moment, and last but certainly not least— piratical themes and English accents are running amuck.

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Charlotte takes advantage of Jake’s schedule and it turns into a very cute evening with them.

Author's Note: Ahhhhhh!! We’re officially in the home stretch, guys 🥹 This weeks chapter is really a treat for all of us 🤭 These two are really so sweet and I’m excited for you to giggle over them with me 🥰 💕

this is how you fall in love - Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler “You are the reason I never think twice, wherever we go, what glitters is gold, You’ll be my best friend until we grow old.”

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It’s beyond me how this man is always awake early when he goes to bed so late. I crawl out of bed and pull a sweatshirt out of his closet. It’s just long enough to cover everything; I forget that he’s not incredibly tall until these moments. 

“There you are,” I let out, walking into the kitchen as he’s making coffee for us. He’s still just in his boxers, a feast for the eyes. Well, mine, at least. Sliding my arms around his waist, pressing a kiss into his shoulder. 

“Good morning,” his voice still slightly husky from sleep. “I was gonna bring this to you– go get back in bed.” 

My face still pressed against him as I giggled, “We can pretend I didn’t ruin the surprise.” He rubs my arm for a second before I force myself to go back into the bedroom. Crawling back into my spot in bed, it’s not long before he comes in, pushing the door shut with his foot. 

“Thank you, baby,” I tell him as I’m stealing my coffee from him. He slides back into bed, pulling my legs over his.  “Mmm, wish we could just do this all day.” Resting my head against him for a second. 

“Hear me out.. We both just quit our jobs,” he says, giggling quietly. 

I look at him, my eyebrow cocked as high as it can go, “You’d never give up the bar, don’t lie.” 

“You’re right, but I also make my schedule so.. I could just not work,” he says. “You, on the other hand.” His side-eye was astronomical as he took a big sip of coffee. 

The last thing I need is for him to realize I’ve been fucking around with my job. 

“How long do you have to be there?” I ask. 

He sets his coffee mug on his nightstand, mumbling, “Josh is closing tonight, so whenever he tells me to leave.” 

“…so we could go out?” 

“What did you have in mind?” 

“Anything where we can dress cute and not be in YOUR bar,” I smirk, batting my eyelashes at him a bit. 

His little smile creeps onto his face, “Mmmm.. maybe we can grab dinner then?” 

“Ooo, yes!” I can’t contain my excitement, not fully expecting him to agree that easily.  “You don’t mind dressing up with me?” 

He laughs before saying, “I can clean up once in a while.” 

“More handsome than usual? I’ll have to fight the girls off you.” I giggle, handing him my coffee to set on the nightstand for me. 

He turns back to me, pulling me onto his lap. He chuckles to himself, “I don’t think you’ll have to be doing all that,” he leans up to kiss me, mumbling against my lips. “But it’s cute that you would.” 

I lean forward, laying against his chest and tucking my face into his neck; I’ll never get over how cozy he is. He pulls the comforter up to cover me, wrapping his arms around me. Closing my eyes and breathing him in, enjoying the feeling of him gently scratching my back. 

“Maybe you were onto something with quitting our jobs,” I said into him with a laugh. 

Feeling his chest vibrate when he laughs makes my heart flutter a little; I shift, trying to make myself a little more comfortable. My hips pressing into him slightly. 

“Hey you,” his voice low. “I can only control what happens so much if you’re gonna be doing that.” 

I sit up to look at him, fully letting my hips grind into him, “What do you mean?” I quietly ask him, pretending I can’t already tell what’s happening. 

“Char-” 

“Yes, Jake?” I smirk, my hands settling on his stomach, toying with the waistband of his boxers. Watching his eyes flit between mine and my lips as I sit here. “You already know if I start something, I’m more than happy to finish it.”

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Leaving him today proved more difficult than I expected. Granted, deciding to try and just give him head turned into early morning sex. Not that I’m complaining; it was lovely, but it definitely slowed down the getting-out-of-bed process a bit. 

Once I made it back “home,” I found myself rummaging through the clothes I had in the closet. I pulled out a pair of light-wash jeans. I couldn’t tell you the last time I wore regular jeans. The idea finally hit. I pulled out one of my body suits, slipped it on, and looked in the mirror. The neckline is deep; I readjusted it a little so the cleavage looked a little better. 

I sit in front of my mirror, dragging my makeup bag closer. Maybe just a little extra won’t hurt. I pick up my phone, turn on some music, and check my texts before I actually start. 

Jacob: time is going by so slow this is painful   

Me: Oh, are we feeling clingy today? 

I giggle, setting my phone down and starting to work on my makeup. It’s always been a therapeutic thing for me. I’ve never been one to wear a ton of it, but the process of getting ready was always lovely. It’s probably something to do with routine. Nevertheless, even if it’s just me fluffing up my eyebrows and mascara, the few moments with some quiet music always comforted me. 

Mindlessly, I sat there, listening to whatever came on shuffle while intermittently replying to Jacob. I love it when he sends me random thoughts or just wants to have a little conversation when I’m not in his presence. It feels nice having someone just want to talk to you. 

Though, I have been very fortunate since meeting him. After introducing me to Quinn, Willa, and Mel, I suddenly feel less alone. Even if Cass did just recently pass away, and I’m still trying to handle that on my own, it really is lovely just to have a handful of friends who are there to just chat about whatever and giggle like she and I used to. I’ve never been one to have many friends, so having a little group of us now is fun. 

Part of my problem was living so far north; there were just not many people growing up, and unfortunately, my family situation wasn’t necessarily ideal. My sister is thirteen years older than me, so we didn’t have that close sisterly bond that a lot do. We’re more friendly now that we’re both adults, but I wouldn’t have considered her like a friend to me growing up. I spent a lot of my life as a makeshift only child because she moved out when I was six. 

My parents are also quite a bit older and were deep into their careers while I was growing up, which is probably part of why I get too invested in my job. I love them, but it made me grow up a bit faster, and I ended up not having many friends because of it. I didn’t relate to the kids around me, and there were only so many to begin with. 

I had never been more relieved than when I met Cass, and she clung to me, regardless of how annoying I can be sometimes.  

I’m quickly pulled out of my thoughts when I realize my music stopped. Looking over to my phone, oh no. My boss’s name sits across the screen; why right now? I stare at it as it rings, watching it go back to my lock screen, and the music starts playing again; taking a deep breath and continuing to get ready. 

What are you doing? Why wouldn’t you answer it? 

He’ll leave a voicemail, and then, at least, I can figure out what to tell him.

You’re really playing with fire here, Char. 

Once I’m happy with how my lipstick looks, I tend to nitpick it; I grab my phone nervously. Staring at the notification that my boss had indeed left a voicemail, I hesitated to click on it. 

“Hey Charlotte, I was hoping to catch you real quick to chat, but if you could just call me back when you get a second, that would be great. Thanks.” 

The nerves die off a bit after listening, not too bad, okay. He definitely didn’t sound happy, but it could have been worse. It will be worse if you don’t just call him back.  I will just.. Not right now. I sat there staring at my phone for a second before doing the only thing I knew would make me feel better. 

Me: I’m excited to show you my outfit soon 

Jacob: you’re gonna give me a heart attack aren’t you? 

His response made me laugh; it’ll never make sense how he’s never managed to keep a girl around. He truly is such a lovely man; I’ve never had someone make me feel like he does. I’m sure he’s tired of being told how sweet he is, but I don’t know if there’s a better word to describe him. I’ve never met someone like him who wasn’t on the pages of a book I was reading. 

Plugging in my curling iron, I pick up my phone, scrolling through emails to see what I should reply to before I leave—quickly answering some that don’t require much brain power before taking the time to curl my hair. I’ll clock in for a little bit before I go just to see how much I can get through. Plus, he might want a few minutes to change and whatnot anyway.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I spent a while working before I finally left. I definitely didn’t need nearly as much time to get ready as I thought. The drive back to Portland felt like forever, likely because I’m actually excited to be here tonight. I pull out my phone to text him as I walk up the stairs. 

Me: I’m here :) 

Jacob: the doors unlocked 

I sneak into the apartment, and I can hear him shuffling around; why am I nervous to see him? 

The sound of his boots against the wood floor echoes through the space as he comes around the corner. His eyes rake down my body, and I feel warm just seeing him. 

“You look–” he says, grabbing my hands, still fully looking me up and down.  “God, you’re so gorgeous.” Feeling the blood rush into my face. I don’t think I’ll get used to him complimenting me. 

I finally got a full look at him; he was in all black, his button-up hardly even buttoned, with a jacket on top. His black jeans ripped at the knees, with his nicer boots. His necklace sits pretty against his chest; his watch and the few rings he added made my mouth water. 

“You’re pretty handsome yourself,” I tell him, leaning in closer to him. “Glad I get to stare at you all night.” 

“You and me both,” he says, his hands holding my waist. “Are you sure you want to go out? We could just.. stay here..” He gives me a slow, lazy wink as he leans in, pressing his lips against my cheek. 

Running my hands up his chest, fiddling with his necklace, “If I weren’t starving, I’d consider.” 

“So later?”

“With you looking like this,” I giggle, patting his bare chest. “I’m going to say absolutely yes.”

His eyes light up at my answer, and with a smirk, he says, “Well, we should probably head out if you’re starving. Definitely not to get to the other part or anything.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I’d say the best part of him living in the Old Port is that anything we do is typically within walking distance from the bar. It’s not a super common thing in Maine to be able to walk to whatever you want, so it’s definitely a perk of the area. 

He immediately grabbed my hand once we started our walk to grab food, lacing his fingers through mine. I wonder if he’s thinking of this as a date. It’s kind of hard to deny at this point, but we just didn’t say the word. My stomach turns at the thought. Maybe I like him a bit more than I planned, but it’s okay. It’s fine. Right? 

His voice pulls me out of my thoughts when he asks, “Have you been to Pai Mein?” 

“No, Cass and I pretty much only went to bars out here,” I tell him, looking over at him. 

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” he says,  meeting my stare. “Sam convinced me after he talked about it a million times, and unfortunately, he was correct. It's so good.”

I laugh at his disappointment but squeeze his hand a few times, “I’m excited.” 

We spend the rest of the walk quietly pointing out things in the shops we’re passing, and I’m trying to ignore our reflections in the window when we stop for a second to look at something a little closer. However, getting a glimpse of him in his going-out fit just reminds me of how good he looks tonight, and I could just take a bite out of him. 

He pulls open the door to the restaurant, letting me through first. I gently grab his hand as he talks to the hostess. Following behind him to our table, which ended up being towards the back of the small space. He carefully pulled out my chair for me; why was that kinda..? 

We sat quietly for a minute, browsing the menu after ordering our drinks. Everything here sounds good; this is awful. I look up, watching him as he reads through things. It’s hard not to get distracted by him, even when he’s genuinely doing nothing. He fidgets quietly, gently picking at his bottom lip as he reads. Finally, looking up when the server comes back with our drinks to mumble a small ‘thank you.’ 

“It’s cute in here,” I tell him, glancing over at the kitchen which is exposed. 

His lips pull into a soft smile, “I had a feeling you’d like it.” 

It’s only a few minutes until the server is back to take our order, stealing the menus back from us, and now there’s nothing else to look at besides him.

“So, the bar was terrible today, huh?” I tease him.

He leans forward a little before saying, “Awful, actually.” His little giggle followed it, which only made the butterflies worse. 

“Well, at least,” I start, but hesitate when I feel his hand graze the back of my calf. He leans into his other hand, elbow propped up on the table as he lightly runs his hand up and down my leg. I don’t think I realized how close we were until just now. “Um, at least you’re free for the evening.” 

I don’t know what’s worse, the way he touches me constantly or the way he stares at me when I talk. 

“Mhmm,” he hums. “I’d be sitting in my office if you didn’t want to do something, so I appreciate it.”

Of course, he would. “You know you’re allowed to just leave the bar if you don’t need to be there?” 

His hand found its way up to hold my knee, and I snaked my own under the table, playing with the two rings he had on. 

“I don’t even know what else I would do,” he admits. 

I tap the back of his hand a few times, “It sounds like you need a hobby.”

“I could read more,” he says quietly. “Maybe I can actually read one of those books you seem to enjoy so much.” 

The cough just sort of happened, so I grabbed my drink quickly. Oh my god, he would be lethal if he had more ideas on how to be perfect. 

“I definitely meant to bring you one,” I let out a small laugh. “You just have to promise you won’t make fun of me if you hate it.”

“Hun, my favorite movie is a rom-com. You really think I’m going to laugh at you for reading romance?” 

I can feel my face start to turn red, “Yeah, but there’s.. smut.. in them.” 

“Yes, and,” he whispers back. “If anything, it could just benefit you.” 

I clear my throat, “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.” 

“Why afraid?” he questions, but thankfully for me, our server walks up with our food in time, so I do not have to explain that to him.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Something about him makes the silence comfortable, in this case, just the silence as I may as well have inhaled my food. Sam is correct– they have incredible ramen. He told me about some things that happened in the bar while he was “trapped” there today– his word, not mine. Mindlessly, I found myself with my foot hooked around his leg until he was done eating, and he quickly dropped his hand down to hold the back of my leg again. 

No matter how many times I’ve witnessed him pay for something, it makes my head spin when he does. Something about him being confident enough not to look at the bill makes me sweat; I think because he’s so quiet and unassuming, it's a little shocking whenever he does something to that degree. 

I followed his lead back outside; he held his hand back for me, and I immediately laced my fingers into his. 

“Should we.. grab drinks? Since we’re already out,” he asks.  

I look over at him; he’s so close. I let out a quiet, “Where are you thinking?” 

“Wherever you want,” he says, tugging me closer. 

“Wait, really?” 

He leans in, leaving a sweet kiss on my lips, mumbling, “Really.”

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We wandered around, finding ourselves in another older bar. Posting up on some barstools towards the end of the bar, we both order drinks. Hearing him order whiskey makes me wish we hadn’t left the apartment. I was a bit surprised when he suggested drinks, and honestly, curiosity got the best of me. 

Watching him actually enjoy himself and have drinks was such a treat for me. I was prepared for him to drink a little too much after meeting him the first time, just owning a bar at a younger age. I’ve been around bar owners enough to know that it’s a slippery slope, and many of them tend to slide down it. 

So, when I realized that he was actually not a big drinker, it was relieving. Obviously, the black-out drunk underage story did clear up some things for me; even if it wasn’t his best moment, it was still precious to see. It’s nice seeing him be a normal person sometimes. 

We sat there sipping on drinks for a while, talking about whatever came to mind. Something about how he speaks, I could just listen to him read the dictionary. Maybe my drink is also starting to kick in. 

He is full of stories about him with his brothers, and their family just seems so fun. The way he laughs during almost every story about them is so adorable; I love that he loves them so much. Sitting here, I notice the pink in his cheeks slowly creeping in. 

After the last couple of weeks, I definitely have noticed little things that he does, whether he’s aware of it or not. He admitted right away to be a physically affectionate kind of person, but I don’t think I anticipated what that meant besides sex, obviously. 

He has a way of just making contact with me– subconsciously. Lightly grabbing my hand or my arm randomly while telling me something. He’ll leave his hand on my thigh while I’m talking, gently scratching or tapping his fingers against me. The little touches are something I wasn’t necessarily prepared for, but now I crave them when I’m around him. 

“I’ll be right back, hun,” he mumbles, kissing the side of my head before scurrying off to the bathroom. I turn to watch him walk off, not that I’m necessarily proud of that, but he looks so fucking good, it’s hard not to. 

After a few minutes, I feel his arms wrap around me, tucking his face into my neck, secretly pressing a few little pecks into my neck.

 “Mmm, hi,” his little mumbles were barely loud enough for me to hear.

“Are you a little tipsy, Jacob?” I ask quietly. 

His smile gave him away, “Who’s to say?” 

“Oh, I think I’m to say,” I giggle. “I was hoping I would get to meet him at some point.” 

His laugh flooded my brain, “Well, eat your heart out, honey.” 

We moved to a little table off in the corner, both of us sitting in the booth seat together. His arm propped up on the back of it as he turned to face me a little, with his drink in the other hand. I can see in his eyes that the alcohol is definitely hitting, and I shouldn’t be as excited as I am for it. 

“So, I know they told you about my failed attempts at dating,” he says, taking a small sip of his drink. “Who has been lucky enough to take you out?” 

My face warms at the thought of admitting that I would usually have never picked someone like him, “Ohhh.. haha, well.” 

“It’s only fair,” his eyebrow raises. I hate that he’s right. 

“Just very clean-cut, shitty finance guys,” I sigh. “They were always just.. boring.” 

He giggles at the comment. 

“Not that my job on paper sounds exhilarating, but–” I try to justify myself a little. 

He chimes in quickly, “No, but the fact you asked for bourbon the first time I met you definitely made me curious.” His voice lowers slightly before asking, “How did you go from clean-cut, boring men to .. us sleeping together?” Oh, what a good question, Jacob. 

“You were just .. so— nice,” I tell him, which isn’t a total lie.  

“Me being nice is all it took? Honey, get higher standards,” he laughs, his eyebrows raised. 

If he only knew that, he is so incredibly far above the standard for men. 

“I mean, you were also so humble,” I start. He deserves to have his ego stroked. Leaning close to his ear to whisper the rest, “I knew the dick had to be good.” 

His hand grips the top of my thigh tighter as he quietly laughs. He turns his face, hovering his lips over my ear when he mumbles, “Bet none of them made you come, huh?” 

“You’d be correct,” I tell him. “And if I did, it was because I took care of it.” 

His eyes drifted from my eyes to my lips, “You deserve better than that.” 

“All I’m gonna say is,” I start, letting out a small laugh. “I don’t want to know how you got so good in bed, but I’m not going to complain.” 

His eyes light up at the subtle compliment, “You think I'm that good?” 

Great. Fantastic. Super. Wonderful. Outstanding. Riveting. Incredible. Deserves a standing ovation. 

“You could say that,” I say before sipping on my drink and watching him pull his lip in with his teeth for a second. The way this man looks at me at any given moment makes me a little nervous, but adding alcohol has only made it worse. 

“Don’t be shy now,” He teases. “You already know the bulk of my past with women, but I’m not afraid to admit that you’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” 

Grabbing his chin, I pull him close, pressing a couple of small kisses against his lips. He tastes like whiskey. The butterflies when I open my eyes quickly, seeing how his eyelashes sit against his cheeks. His expression is so soft; he really is the sweetest boy.

“The feeling is mutual, babe,” I mumble against his lips, feeling the smile before I could see it. His hand rubs my thigh as we sit there with our faces a breath apart. I had never been with someone where I felt like I couldn’t stop myself; something about Jacob was different. So.. maybe I have a bit of a crush on him.. But how could I not?  The cute little smile on his face when I call him ‘babe’ will never get old. 

He’s intoxicating; he has an aura about him that just makes me want to crawl into his skin. Something about him short circuits my brain a lot of the time: the way he looks at me and always seems to want to take care of me– in a few different ways. 

“Are you excited for Wednesday?” I ask, forcing myself to focus on him. 

His eyebrows pull together, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the anniversary of the bar being open, isn’t it?” I start to second guess myself. 

“Oh, yes, it is.” His voice sounded surprised. Running his hand over his face, “Shit, that’s soon.” 

“Quinn mentioned something about it,” I tell him, trying to see how he reacts.

He laughs uncomfortably, “Yeah if there’s ever a celebration, assume they and Josh are behind it.”

Why does he seem nervous? I finally ask quietly, “Do you not want a celebration thing for it?”

“No, it’s okay, I just-” He hesitates a bit. 

“You worked hard; you deserve your moment.”

“I mean–”

“No, you shut up,” I cut him off, poking his chest lightly with a small laugh, “Mr. ‘I-can-hardly-leave-the-bar-without-checking-in-every-two-minutes,’ you deserve the attention.”

He moves closer to me, “I only want your attention.” I could throw up. 

I tap the tip of his nose a few times, “Don’t try to suck up to me right now; this is about you.” 

“Will you be there?” He asks, his eyes flit between my eyes and my mouth. 

“Do you want me there?”

“Mhm,” he nods. 

“I’ll hold your hand if you get nervous.” 

“Mmm, perfect,” He mumbles. “Actually, I’m a bit nervous now if you wanna get a jumpstart,” he pops his eyebrows a few times. 

He holds out his hand for me, sliding mine into it. Nodding his head towards the bar, I follow his lead. With a tight grip on mine, his hand pulled me through people who were getting up to the bar quickly. Ordering more drinks for the two of us, he turns to look at me as we wait; his thumb is rubbing against mine. He hands my drink to me before grabbing his. 

He starts to walk back over to the little table we were sitting at when he stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at me. 

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It’s Bob Seger!”

I can’t help but laugh at how excited he gets. After a second, I can hear it through the chatter of the bar, the sweet sounds of Bob ringing through yet another bar. He slowly walks backward toward the table, sipping on his drink for a second before the chorus hits.

He pulls our hands close to his mouth as he sings, “And those Hollywood nights, in those Hollywood hills,” pretending my hand is the microphone. I pull him to the side so he won’t trip over a chair in the process, but that doesn’t stop him. He’s adorable. 

“She was looking so right, in her diamonds and frills,” his raspy little voice still going strong. He holds my hand up, spinning me in front of him before pulling me in close. He wraps his other arm carefully around me and sways the two of us together; he can’t be real, my hand still in his as we rock back and forth. His eyes are soft as he looks at me, and I swear, even in the dim lights of this bar, I can see them sparkle. 

“All those big city nights,” he sings next to my ear. “In those high rolling hills.”

Backing into the table we had been at, he spins us around, letting me sit down first. He sets his drink on the table before sitting next to me. I just watch him sing the last lines of the chorus and sing the guitar parts when there are no words left. I love it when he is just.. himself. I could spend forever watching him have fun. 

Once his karaoke moment ends, he sits back against the booth, quietly staring at me with his eyebrows pulled together. 

“What’s going on in there?” I smooth his brow with my thumb. 

“What am I supposed to do next weekend?” He asks, sipping on his drink. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’ll be the holiday weekend, and I assume you will be with your family,” he says, sounding a bit sad. 

Shit, I didn’t even think about that. 

I force out a quick, “Oh, that’s true..” 

“Mhmm,” he lets out a little sigh, “And I’ve been spoiled with seeing you all the time.” His hand ran down the back of my head gently. 

“Ohh,” I taunt. I have to tease him a little, asking, “Is someone going to miss me?” 

He pouts his bottom lip, “I fear I just might.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” I coo; my hand holds the side of his face, running my thumb over his cheekbone as he stares back at me. 

He leans into my hand and sighs, “Mmm, I know.” 

“Well, maybe,” I start, tracing my finger along his jaw. “We can play that little game again while I’m home.” 

“Mmm, what game is that?” His eyes focus more on my lips than my eyes, which honestly is okay with me. 

“You know.. where you tell me all the terrible thoughts in your head,” I whisper, leaning closer to him. “And I’ll send you a photoshoot in all the lingerie that I own.”

“All?” His eyebrows raised. 

I giggle to myself, pressing my lips into his. 

“Mhm. Whatever your heart desires, baby.”

He tucked his face into the crook of my neck, and I could feel how warm he was. He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. 

“Why are you hiding?” I say through a laugh. 

He double pats my leg, mumbling, “You.” 

“Me!?” 

Sitting up a little, he leans close to my ear, “Sometimes you just say things, and I have to fight demons not to let very specific things happen.”

Oh! I guess I do forget that he’s still a man sometimes. I slid my hand over his lap, and a shitty little smirk laced my lips as I did it. He grabbed my hand insanely fast, making me laugh as he looked at me with his eyebrow perked up. 

“Char– I swear,” his voice lowers. “I’d throw you over my shoulder and run out of here if I could stand up right now.” 

I lay my head against his arm that’s propped up on the back of the seat, looking up at him through my lashes, “I wish you would.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After one more drink and Jacob composing himself, I watch him glance at the time on his watch.  His English accent made an appearance, “Shall we head back, darling?”

“I think so,” I giggle at him. He holds out his hand for me, keeping my hand in his as we go up to the bar for him to close his tab. 

He let go of me for all of ten seconds, but watching his hands as he signed the bill, sliding his wallet back into his pocket- my mouth was watering. He can be so smooth sometimes, I think, as he slides his hand back into mine. 

“Ready?” 

I nod quickly, “Lead the way, babes.”

We stumble around giggling, hand in hand, and I can’t get over how silly he is when he’s drunk. The smile on this boy is brighter than the sun. His arm drapes over my shoulders, and I can’t help it when I slide my hand into his. 

He grabs my face, turning my head and leaning in for a kiss or two. Giggling when I ask, “What are we gonna do with this drunken sailor?” 

“Put him in a long boat til’ he’s sober!” 

My jaw drops before the laugh comes out, not anticipating him to sing a sea shanty in the middle of the Old Port. I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised, considering who we are working with here. 

“Now, is that the only option?” I ask– yes, I know the song. 

“Put him in bed with the captain’s daughter,” his sweet voice sings, wiggling his eyebrows at me. 

He’s so cute; I can’t stand him. 

“Let’s stick with the long boat tonight, Sailor,” I grab his hands as he looks at me, “I like calling you ‘Captain’ too much– I don’t wanna ruin that.” 

He pulls one of my hands up, kissing the back of it and then my knuckles, staring at me the entire time; his little grin kills me as he says, “Every time I think I have my sea legs around you, you say some shit like that.” 

Amid our giggles, he pulls out a cigarette, carefully lighting it. Watching him hold it between his lips as he covers the flame with his hand, preventing the wind from messing with it. I shouldn’t enjoy this like I do. I can see him inhale, and how he breathes out the smoke makes my knees weak. Maybe it’s just the alcohol talking. 

His laugh brought me back to earth, “What?” 

“I– um,” I hesitated, looking down quickly, not necessarily sure of how to tell him that I was just drooling over his bad habit. I look back at him as he’s about to inhale again, but as soon as his hand drops back down, I don’t know what came over me. Stepping in front of him, my hands pull his face to mine, breathing him in as we kiss. My lips encouraged him to just.. exhale into me. I feel his smirk against me. 

He mumbles, “I didn’t think you liked.. that.. kind of thing.”

“Me either.”

His eyebrow raises at my response, “Oh?” 

I laugh at myself before finally caving, “You just look so fine when you do; I guess I don’t mind it.” 

“You think so, huh?” he says smugly, his hand pulling me close to him and settling on my lower back. He mumbles, “Here.” Pulling the cigarette back up to his lips, he takes a small drag before leaning in. His lips slightly parted, breathing the small amount of smoke into me, humming a small ‘mmm’ against my lips as he pulled away. I look to the side, breathing out the little bit of smoke left. 

“Um,” sneaks out of me as I look back at him. The cool air makes the tip of his nose a little red, mixing with the alcohol that has his cheeks tinted pink, his eyes practically twinkling in the dim glow of the moon and a distant street lamp. My heart pounds in my chest as we just stare at each other for what feels like an hour, even though it was maybe a few seconds. Maybe.. this is a little more than a crush. 

His hand moved from my back, sliding down my forearm and into my hand, his sweet little voice mumbling, “Come on, honey. Let’s go home.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I plop down on the couch, watching him wander around in the kitchen. He finally makes his way over to join me, holding out a glass for me.  

“Trying to keep me drunk, are you?” I ask, taking the glass of what I can only assume is bourbon. 

He giggles as he sits down, “Not drunk, just relaxed.”  

“Mmm, I’m sure,” I raise an eyebrow but still take a sip. “So, what do you guys do for the holiday?” 

He lets out a little sigh, “Well, my parents will be here. They always come up and stay in an Airbnb nearby.” 

“Is that.. bad?” 

“No, not at all. They always get a place big enough so we can all go over and spend the day together,” he says, his tone sounding off. What about that is bothering him? “Sometimes we end up sleeping there; it just depends on how much everyone has to drink or if my mom convinces us to stay there.” He smiles a little, but something just doesn’t seem right about it. Reaching my hand over and running it down the back of his head, playing with a little section of his hair. 

“Is something wrong?” I ask, my eyebrows pulling together as I look at him. 

He sips his drink before answering, “I mean.. no.” 

“Wanna try that again, sailor?” I can’t stop the smirk that grows on my face, and watching him smile back at me made it worth it. 

“I’m just being a little dramatic about it,” he giggles, the most incredible sound I could hear right now. “I know Willa and Quinn are coming this year, and I guess I’m just.. a little bummed about– seventh wheeling.” 

I can’t help but laugh after watching him count in his head to figure it out. I wish I could go with him so he didn’t have to be alone. I mean, I– oh no. 

“Well,” I start. “I will be bored out of my mind with my parents and sister, so I’ll at least bug you throughout the day.”

He turns his head, kissing the palm of my hand before looking back to me, “You’re so sweet. We can be bored together.” I scoot a bit closer to him, letting our legs bump into each other. 

We sit there for a little bit, slowly sipping on our drinks and laughing about random things together. His hand found comfort on my leg, per usual. The fact he put rings on tonight made it hard for me not to want to touch his hands– sitting there twisting them slowly, these need to stay on forever. 

Standing up, he drinks the last of his bourbon and quietly sets his glass in the sink. I watch as he slowly walks off, stopping kind of abruptly once he realizes I’m still sitting here. 

“You comin’, love?” his English accent laid on thick, one eyebrow raised, when he hit me with a wink. My thighs clenched at the sight of it, which he definitely noticed because of that stupid smirk on his face. 

I stand up, wander over to him, and quietly ask, “Where are we going?” 

He leans down, scooping me up in his arms, bridal style, which makes us both laugh, as he starts walking to his room.  

“The real question,” he starts. I hate that the accent is kind of hot. “What do you want to do with this drunken sailor?”  

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty-One

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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