#I’m oddly hopeful for the rest of the series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penkura · 4 months

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where you belong [1/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Notes: Hi, it's me again! Another fanfic here for you all! When this goes up, I'll be on my last day of vacation before I fly home, so I hope that you'll enjoy this! I know Straw Hat Reader x Law is popular, and I wanted to write my own, but with the Reader being Luffy's biological older sister. So for this, Reader is three years older than Luffy, 20 at the start and 22 after the timeskip, making Law four years older. I personally like older men, and age gap fics are just delicious reading material for me (within reason, nothing illegal).

Note 2: This is NOT the Law with vitiligo series. That one is actively being planned but will be separate from this one.

“And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!!”

Luffy standing your tiny dingy boat worries you a little, but you still grin at him and nod.

“Hell yeah you will be!”

“Your turn! What’re you gonna do while we sail??”

Rolling your eyes, you make Luffy sit down while you stand up.

“Easy. I’m gonna chronicle your journey and write the greatest story ever told!”

Your younger brother watches you, tilting his head when you don’t continue. He believes there has to be more you want out of life, and tries to make you say what else is in your plans, what you have on your mind.

“And?”

Taking a breath, you nod. Of course he knew you had more, it’s Luffy, he’s been by your since he was just a few weeks old. Things you’ve said over time, to him and Ace, they’d both known for a long time what you’ve always wanted to find once you went out to sea.

“And find where it is I belong.”

+!+

Your arrival in Sabaody was a trip, in more than one way. You'd been excited to explore the place, hoping you could pawn your younger brother off on Camie, Pappag, and the others so you could have some time on your own to shop the stalls, maybe with Nami and Robin, turn it into a girl’s day. Of course, though, nothing could be so easy when your brother is the captain of the Straw Hats. You all find yourselves at the human auction hall, Nami willing to spend all the money possible to save Camie, but it makes you itchy while being there. You cringe to think about the things that happened in this place, how many people had been sold to Celestial Dragons. Your and Luffy's loss of Sabo due to the actions of one had severely soured your opinions on them.

You scan the crowd in the auction house, scratching at your arms which never seem to calm down while the rest of your crew discusses their plan to save Camie, and you end up locking eyes with another pirate captain there, unknown to you at that moment but somehow familiar.

A furry white, spotted hat, dark hair you can barely see, oddly enough you think his facial hair is attractive, and those yellow eyes that you almost would believe see right through you.

Trafalgar Law simply stares at you, realizing you’re a Straw Hat when he recognizes the rest of your crewmates. After a moment of fidgeting slightly you give him a nervous smile and a wave, which he returns with a nod before turning back to the auction stage as they continue to call bids on people.

Weird girl.

Strange guy.

Although she’s busy watching for Camie to be brought out, Nami still leans into you when you pull on her sleeve and start to whisper. “You see that guy in the white spotted hat?”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates. He’s more attractive than his poster makes him.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami pulls her arm away from you. “I don’t have time for you to be horny about some guy.”

“Wha—Nami!! I’m not! I’m just saying.”

She doesn’t listen to you anymore, focusing back on waiting for Camie and sending you to watch for Luffy, just so you don’t get distracted by the attractive enemy captain and defect to another crew.

You swear you never will, but do as you’re told to watch for your brother. Maybe one day you’ll get to properly meet Law, you’re quite curious about the young man.

+!+

“Another one?! Are you kidding me, Dragon?!”

You’re three years old when you wake up to your grandfather yelling at someone in the middle of the night. Normally Garp is sure to keep things quiet so you, his sweet little princess angel granddaughter, can sleep peacefully. He’d leave early in the morning once your nanny showed up for the day, returning before dinner so he had the evenings with you before you had to be off to bed, to do the day over again the next morning. It’s rare for you to stay up late or wake up early, but the few mornings you’ve woken up before he left were some of Garp’s favorites.

You quietly slip out of your bed, blanket in your hand as you rub your eyes and go to the door, opening it just enough to see what’s happening. Garp is there with someone in a green cloak, you can’t see the other person’s face, but listen anyway.

“He’s the last one, there won’t be anymore.”

“You said [Y/N] was going to be the only one!”

“Things happened.”

“Obviously something happened, babies don’t appear out of thin air!’

You tilt your head, the man in the cloak catching your eye, which makes you shy away behind your doorway, glancing away before back to him as he looks to Garp again.

“Take care of them.” He goes to leave and is gone before Garp can even stop him.

“Dragon, wait--! That…damn idiot.”

“Grandpa?”

Garp is surprised to hear your voice, turning around once he closes the door, giving you a smile while you start to focus on the bundle he's holding.

“Hey there, princess, what are you doing up?”

“I heard yelling…”

Nodding, Garp apologizes as he picks you up, letting you settle on his free arm. “Sorry about that, angel. Just… an unexpected visitor.”

“Oh…”

Garp sees you staring more at the bundle of blankets in his arm than at him, and he sighs a bit, taking you to the living room and setting you on the couch, before showing you how to position your arms as he sets the now squirming bundle in your arms.

“[Y/N], this is your baby brother. His name is Luffy.”

How unexpected! You’ve never thought about having a sibling, just enjoying your childhood and life with your grandpa, but seeing this tiny little boy in your just as small arms makes you grin while you look at him. Dark black hair and just as dark eyes, scrunched up little face and tiny hands in fists while he starts to fuss and whine.

“Luffy…”

+!+

Luffy…

You hope your prayers aren’t going unheard, that Luffy will return to you safely. Ace’s death has long passed, but you’re more worried about your little brother than anything else right now. You’d both been sent off to Amazon Lily by Kuma, but after they’d all agreed to let you both stay, and Boa Hancock seems to have fallen in love with him, Luffy left you there to go rescue Ace, that was nearly three weeks ago now, you think. You want him back, both of them, but want to see Luffy more than anyone else.

“Luffy’s returned, [Y/N]-san!”

“He has?!”

Marguerite nods and you quickly get up from your seat and run after her to wherever Luffy is. The newspapers kept implying he was dead, you were terrified you’d lost him and Ace that day, no updates from anyone apart from the papers cheering for the Navy’s alleged victory, for the deaths of Ace and Whitebeard. The Amazons, all so kind to let you stay while Luffy went to try and rescue Ace, were unsure of how to help you the last two weeks once Ace’s vivre card burned to nothing in your hands and made you nearly inconsolable.

Despite that, your prayers hadn’t gone unheard.

Once you’re at the beach that Luffy should be at, you notice immediately the big yellow submarine with the word DEATH on it and it freaks you out more than anything. You don’t know who owns it, but when you catch sight of someone you’ve only seen in person once, you worry that he’s done something to Luffy. You don’t say a word, but someone in a jumpsuit (boiler suit you think?) calls out “captain” just in time for him to turn towards you as you shove the older boy to the ground, placing yourself on top of him and your knife to his neck.

Part of you wishes it was poisoned right now, just in case this Trafalgar Law has done something to your brother.

“Where’s Luffy?!”

The knife you have at his neck doesn’t phase Law even a tiny bit, it’s the fact that someone so much shorter and smaller than him was able to catch him off guard and shove him to the ground the way you did. You’re angry for some reason, giving him a nasty glare but look like you’re about to cry on top of it, as he just stares at you, his crewmembers shouting for you to get off their captain before he raises a hand to stop them.

“Who—”

“Tell me, where is my brother?!”

Oh so that’s what’s wrong, that’s who you are. Whether you’re related to Luffy by blood or by ritual cup like Ace was, Law doesn’t know, but he’s sure you want reassurance you haven’t lost two brothers in one day.

“Are you [Y/N]?”

You turn your head to look over your shoulder at Jinbei, still glaring. “Who’s asking?!”

“I was friends with your brother Ace, he told me about you and Luffy while we were in Impel Down.”

“He…did?”

You’ve calmed down so quickly hearing Ace’s name, retracting your knife just slightly, while Jinbei explains things to you. You don’t move off of Law though, listening quietly, fighting the desire to cry more. You’ve done enough of that, you don’t want to anymore today.

Law doesn’t even try to move you off, knowing, like Luffy, you’re emotionally hurting right now. He doesn’t want to risk you slicing his neck either, even as Jinbei finishes telling you everything Ace did, and you still don’t move or look at Law.

“Ace hopes you find what you’re looking for.”

You clench your jaw a bit at first, before smiling sadly and nodding, thanking Jinbei for the information before Law speaks up.

“If you get off me, I can take you to Straw Hat-ya.”

You blink, finally looking back to Law, and you feel your face burn with a blush when you realize your position and scramble to get off him, apologizing the whole way while he shakes his head. Once he’s on his feet, Law let’s you onto the Polar Tang and leads you down the hallway to the infirmary, updating you on Luffy’s condition the best he can with the knowledge he has.

“If he pulls through this, the most you’ll have to worry about is his mental health.”

“Mm.” You nod, grabbing Law’s arm as he stops to open a door, making him look back at you. “I apologize for shoving you down.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Law shrugs, you could tell just from looking at him, though he does smirk a bit at you, “Never had a girl push me down and hold a poisoned knife to my neck before though.”

“It wasn’t poisoned,” you almost shout, but keep your voice down to not wake Luffy, “…this time…”

He almost laughs, but when you see Luffy finally, you’re instantly but his side, taking his hand and trying to keep yourself from crying seeing him in such a state. He’d been injured badly before, but never like this, never this close to death.

“Luffy…oh Luffy, I’m here, Lu,” you brush his bangs away from his face before kissing his forehead, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I should’ve come with you…”

Law doesn’t bother you for the next several minutes, stepping out so you have some privacy while you make sure Luffy is all right, your quiet prayers that he wakes soon and heals quickly don’t go unheard by the surgeon of death, who thinks back to his own sister and the prayers he’d once prayed for her health as a child.

As an older sibling, he gets it. While he still doesn’t know yet if you’re related by blood or sworn siblings, he does see how much you care for Luffy, and for your sake he hopes your captain wakes sooner rather than later.

+!+

You spend the next two weeks in and out of the Polar Tang, checking on Luffy and praying over him to wake soon, Law being the one to take you in and lead you back out most of the time, even though you’ve memorized the path already. The next time you leave Luffy to continue recovering, the friends you and Luffy have made from Amazon Lily have shown up in the time you’ve been with him, bringing food and drinks for you all. As you walk over to where he’s seated, Law offers you a drink that you reject with a shake of your head, sitting on the other side of the tree and bringing your knees up to your chest, hiding your face in them.

“Any signs he’s waking up?”

Shaking your head, you sigh and lean back, looking at the people around to distract yourself from worrying over Luffy.

“That your crew?”

“Yep. All twenty of them.”

You smile a bit, watching the Heart Pirates goof off while some have their meal and share drinks. It almost reminds you of the Straw Hats and makes your heart ache from missing them deeply.

“You have a nice group there.”

“They can be a handful.”

It makes you laugh a bit, nodding before you decide to stop wallowing and get back up, standing beside Law where he stays seated.

“Think you should hold this for now.”

Law tosses Luffy’s straw hat to you, and you grit your teeth a bit while you stare at it. You had wondered where it was, seeing it wasn’t around when you were with Luffy. You hold nothing but the highest regards for Shanks, he'd been an inspiration for you and Luffy when you were children, he helped end the war and helped Law save Luffy, but how you wish he’d shown up sooner. Maybe he could’ve helped Ace too.

“Thank you, for holding this.”

“Seems important to him, he’s not Straw Hat-ya without it.”

Smiling a bit, you nod. “He’s certainly not.”

“How do you—”

“I’m his big sister. I was three when our dad dropped him off with me and grandpa. We’ve been together almost every day since.”

“I see.”

You’re not entirely sure you trust Law, despite his saving Luffy, but you’re willing to give him a shot. At least let him know a bit about your history with Ace too, since he'd been there when you hadn’t been. Where Luffy asked you not to go.

“We met Ace and another boy when I was ten, and become sworn siblings with them soon after. The other boy died a few months later,” you grip the straw hat a bit tighter, but loosen your hold after being stabbed in the hand by sharp bits of straw, “a Celestial Dragon did it, we’ve not been fans of them since, so Luffy punching that one in Sabaody felt like some payback.”

“That makes sense.”

After a few minutes of silence, you finally realize something and turn to Law, sticking your hand out for him.

“Never introduced myself. Monkey D. [Y/N]. I don’t really use my last name though.”

Law takes your hand after a moment, nodding. “Trafalgar Law.”

“Thank you for saving my baby brother.”

“Don’t thank me until he wakes up.”

As if almost on cue, the door comes flying off the Polar Tang and you both whip your heads over, Law running ahead of you as you follow, and Luffy’s the next thing to almost fly out of the ship.

“Luffy!!”

You’re about to run to him before Law grabs hold of your arm, pulling you to himself and holding you still, even while you thrash around and listen to Luffy call for Ace. It breaks your heart to see him so upset, and you just want to console him, have him do the same for you, while you both continue to grieve for Ace. But Law won’t let you go to him, fear or concern your brother might hurt you while he fights through pain and raging emotions, before he disappears into the forest.

“Luffy, come back!!”

You barely register Jinbei asking what’ll happen if Luffy continues to flail and run off like that, before Law speaks and your heart almost drops to your stomach at the thought.

“If he continues to move around like that he could reopen his wound and bleed out. He’ll die.”

Quickly you turn around and Law isn’t at all shocked to see the tears welling up in your eyes as you grip his shirt, still holding Luffy’s straw hat.

“Don’t let that happen!! Please!! He’s all I have! Luffy is my whole world, I can’t lose him!!”

Unsure of what to do, especially once you lay your head on his chest while you cry, Law hesitantly wraps his arms around you and watches Jinbei go off to Luffy. Maybe he’ll be able to calm your brother down before he really hurts or kills himself.

You’ve both been through a lot the last few weeks, losing Luffy would break you more than losing Ace did to him.

+!+

“I’m sorry I got snot on your shirt.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash.”

You glance away and keep your eyes averted while Law changes shirts, having taken you onto the Polar Tang while Jinbei attempts to calm Luffy down. He didn’t fully mean to bring you into his room, but he never let go of your wrist while he led through the ship, making you sit down to hopefully calm you down. You do catch sight of his tattoos, wanting to say something but you don’t want to sound like a creep or a pervert at the same time.

“Why don’t you use your last name?”

Law surprises you once he’s changed shirts, this one almost the same as the yellow one he’d been wearing, but now a dark blue with a furry, feathery collar that you really want to pet, it looks soft. But again, you don’t want to seem like a creep.

For a moment you’re quiet, before you cross your arms and lean against the wall, shrugging.

“Why should I use the name of someone who abandoned me? I only have one memory of my father, and it was when he dropped off Luffy.”

“Your grandfather is Garp, isn’t he?”

“I love my grandpa like he’s my dad…but I don’t want to use my last name.”

Law nods a bit, seeming to understand. You felt abandoned, and wanted nothing to do with your biological father, instead viewing Garp in that light, which makes sense.

He'd viewed Corazon in the same light at one point.

“Your mother?”

“I know nothing about her. It’s like…” You start to bury your head in your knees again, almost digging your nails into your arms, “Like I don’t know who I am half the time…”

He gets that too, the same feelings after Flevance, after losing Corazon and leaving the Don Quixote family, leaving Doflamingo behind. Many times of looking in the mirror and asking “who the hell am I”.

Law is about to respond, before one of his crewmembers yells for you both that Luffy and Jinbei have returned to the beach, and you’re out the door so fast he isn’t able to believe it. He follows you out, not all surprised to see you and Luffy hugging each other tightly once he exits his ship.

Your bond with Luffy would be on full display the next few days, Law truthfully does wonder if he and Lammy would’ve been the same.

+!+

“I met some people who are friends with our dad.”

“You what?”

Luffy nods, giving you this information during dinner one evening, while you stare at him with such a blank look that Law thinks you’ve completely shut down. You didn’t say too much about your dad while you relayed some of your childhood to him earlier that day, apart from your perceived abandonment, but the look you have isn’t a very happy one.

“They’re were some cool people! They helped me escape that prison and…tried to help me save Ace.”

“So they were revolutionaries.”

“Yeah, they…they said they didn’t even know we existed.” Luffy scrunches up his face a bit while you frown, then pat his head.

“I’m not surprised, Lu.”

Luffy makes a face now, one that’s almost disgusted but annoyed but upset maybe. Law swears he isn’t trying to eavesdrop, you two are sitting too close to him anyway, you’re practically pressed up against his side. You both appear to have problems with your father, after the little bit you’ve told him and how you confessed to feeling abandoned by your parents. He wonders briefly is Luffy feels the same, even as your younger brother leans against you, pushing you fully into Law’s arm and making you glance up at him apologetically. He doesn’t move, once again doesn’t push you off, instead shifting his arm enough for you to be comfortable.

When Luffy falls asleep, you finally speak again.

“Luffy met our dad once, in Loguetown”

“Oh yeah?”

“Neither of us knew until grandpa told us…he didn’t even stop to say anything to me…”

“…I’m sorry.”

You shrug, watching Luffy. It still stung to know that, to know that Dragon didn’t even seek you out when he must’ve known you were on Luffy’s crew, that you’d never leave him to do this alone. When Garp told you he’d been in Loguetown that day, it felt like a knife in your heart that you didn’t even get to see or speak to your father.

Law, while he watches you start to drift off to sleep yourself, thinks about his own dad and Corazon at the same time. He had two fathers in the end, who both cared about and loved him deeply, both wanting to protect him as long as they could. He had his mother and Lammy too, you had Luffy and Garp, but it wasn’t enough for you, and it makes sense. To not have that connection with the people who gave you life, Law can’t even imagine how difficult that must be.

He ignores the slight snickers and comments from his crew when they see you leaned against him, even has he slightly tilts his head towards yours, not going all the way to lay his against your own. Even when Shachi makes a small comment about ‘love’ being in the air at Amazon Lily, Law doesn’t open his eyes to respond or even Shambles his friend away.

You won’t see each other again for a long time after this, most likely, so he’s willing to give you some comfort and allow his crew to see him a little softer than normal.

+!+

“Bye, thanks for your help, Traffy!”

Law tries not to grimace at the nickname Luffy’s given him over the last few days, nodding to you both as his crew also shouts goodbyes and wave to you both, you personally sad to see them leave. You’d spent so much time getting to know them while taking care of Luffy, that it felt like you were losing friends again. You’d probably see them one day, maybe as friends but maybe as foes, yet, you’d like to see more of Law and learn about him like he had you.

Luffy notices your face, the sad look it has, then looks back to the Heart Pirates as they start to disappear below deck. You’ve already chosen to stay on Amazon Lily the next two years and learn from the women there how to fight, but even watching you the last couple days, he could see your heart wasn’t in it. You more so loved using your knives and making poisons, he remembers the one he and Ace mistakenly drank thinking it was lavender tea from Makino. You weren’t an archer or a swordswoman, you much prefer close combat and paralyzing your enemies. Your work during Enies Lobby earned you your $25 million berri bounty, the Navy having trouble recreating antidotes from the one you’d left with a knocked out marine, they knew you’d be trouble one day.

With all that in mind, Luffy sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you in what you first believe to be a hug, before he lifts you up and you look at him. He’s got a grin that concerns you greatly as the color drains from your face.

“Luffy.”

He giggles a bit, nodding at you to brace yourself.

“Luffy, don’t you dare.”

“Have fun with Traffy for two years!!!”

He doesn’t give you anymore room to argue, flinging you towards the Polar Tang, making you yell for Law to pay attention, and he barely does in time to catch you, knocking both of you to the ground, several Heart Pirates making sure both of you are all right and that Law didn’t hit his head on anything.

You’re up and holding onto the railing, yelling at Luffy, “You’re an idiot!!!”

He pretends he can’t hear you, waving widely and shouting another goodbye, but to you this time.

Once Law is sitting up, realizing what the hell has happened, he sighs a bit while you look back to him.

“I’m sorry, Trafalgar. You can turn back and I’ll beat some sense into him!”

One of his crewmembers, you’re pretty sure it’s Shachi, leans down to ask him, “Should we? Kinda seems like Straw Hat wants us to take her along.”

He sighs, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“You can stay.”

“…huh?”

You tilt your head in confusion, Law doesn’t think it’s cute at all no matter what that weird feeling in his chest is, while he stands up and nods at you.

“The Amazons might get angry if we return without permission, so we’ll just…take you along…and then bring you to Sabaody.”

Blinking several times, you’re still confused while some of his crew laugh, Penguin coming up to pat you on the back.

“You’re a temporary Heart Pirate! We’ll take care of you!”

Nodding, Law turns to go below deck.

“Say your goodbye, we’ll be going under shortly.”

While the rest of them follow after their captain, you turn back and see Luffy still waving at you, which makes you sigh and shake your head. You do smile though, you had wanted to continue getting to know Law and his crew, this was a perfect opportunity, and maybe he could help you with creating effective antidotes for your poisons.

“Luffy! Love you, see you in two years!”

“Okay!!!!”

Once you go below deck, Penguin being the one to wait for you in order to close the door properly, he starts to show you around a bit, the rest of the crew happy to see you’re staying with them for now, while Law keeps a slight distance unless he’s asked about something. You looking around and being so impressed by the submarine caused another weird feeling in his chest, and he fights to ignore it, especially when you thank him for letting you stay with a smile, which he waves off with an “It’s nothing”.

It's going to be an interesting two years.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #where you belong #fem!reader

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samkerrworshipper · 8 months

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initiation | barca femeni x reader

part 2 -> part 1

warnings: pure smut and filth

this is not made for anybody under the age of 18, you are responsible for your own digital consumption.

Lucy opens the door without any hesitation, and almost as soon as she does the silence is broken by the sounds of a series of gasps and moans.

It bounces off of the walls surrounding you, and you jolt a little bit when it finally makes it to your eardrums.

“Lucia, te tomaste tu tiempo.” Lucy, took your time

Lucy steps into the room, and it gives you your first view of what’s happening.

“Buenos Noches.”

Keira’s hand grabs onto your own, pulling you into the room with her.

Your eyes flash around at a hundred miles an hour, taking in all of your surroundings.

It’s a oddly set up space, which makes you think that it’s been preorganised specifically for this. It’s a overly open living space, a kitchen to the left as you walk in, but the rest of the living room is completely empty besides massive couches that really are the size of beds.

The lounge room is massive, but the big couches and seats surround the space.

It’s not the couches that actually capture your attention though, it’s all of the women on them.

Everybody is in different stages of undress, and doing different things, it takes a few seconds for you to absorb.

Then, you spot an actual bed sitting about ten metres in front of the couch, pushed up against a wall.

It’s a big bed, but the size of the bed definitely isn’t what captures your attention.

It’s whats happening on it, which is enough to make your eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are three people on it, people you quickly recognise as Mapi, Aitana and Ingrid.

Aitana is crammed between the two women, Ingrid’s behind her and Mapi in front.

Mapi’s mouth is directly on her clit, whilst Ingrid is fucking her soundly and roughly from behind.

You feel rude for staring but you also can’t manage to tear your eyes away from the view directly in front of you.

It’s the definition of erotic, watching as Aitana’s mouth goldfishes open and closed as the two women work away at her happily.

“Hola carino, come over here.”

It takes you a nudge from Keira to realise that Alexia is talking to you.

The captain is sitting on a couch, alone besides the fact that Jenni is on her knees in front of her licking gently at her.

Besides from that Alexia still has a bra on, a fairly simple but beautiful black lace piece that looks perfect against her tanned skin.

With a push from Keira you walk over to her, unsure how to approach.

She opens up her arms to you though, and you carefully, without disrupting Jenni climb into her lap, resting on top of one of her ridiculously muscular thighs.

It gives you a perfect view at what is happening below you, but you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

Keira and Lucy have already joined Pina and Patri in the corner of one of the couches, the two had been lazily making out but upon the appearance of the other couple they’ve now begun to kiss each other, with pina now grinding down on Lucy’s lap and Keira below a Patri who has straddled her and has her mouth on her neck and chest.

On the other side of the couch, Ona, the other newbie who you know from Man U is in the arms of Caro, Marta and Frido, who are all touching her in different places. Ona looks completely blissed out, something you hope to feel soon.

After you are done observing everybody else, your eyes naturally fall back to the bed, where Ingrid and Mapi are still going at it with Aitana, who looks like she’s on a completely different planet to everybody else.

“You like what you see, bebita?”

You absentmindedly nod at Alexia, your lip between your teeth as you continue to keep your eyes on the two women.

“Y’know, I’m sure Ingrid and Mapi would be happy to give you the same treatment, they like to reward pretty girls like yourself for being so good.”

The praise has you weak from below the knees, your tense body slowly relaxing against Alexia’s.

“Really?”

You’re well aware that you’ve been told multiple times that people are interested in having fun with you, but that doesn’t mean you find it easy to accept.

“Oh si, ellas están muy desesperadas por ti.” oh yes, they are very desperate for you

You understand that Spanish well enough, even if you don’t know the words. The way it falls from Alexia’s tongue is enough of an indicator.

“How about Jenni and I get you nice and ready for them then?”

You look down at jenni, she’s taken a break from Alexia to look up at you, a big smile on her face, which is glistening with what you assume to be Alexia’s juices.

“O-Okay.”

Alexia beams at you, her smile big and bright as she fiddles with the material of your sweater in between her fingers.

“Let’s take this off, hmm?”

You nod shyly at Alexia, everything about this whole situation is completely different to your previous experiences, and it’s not that you don’t like it but you can’t deny the fact that it’s making you feel a little bit anxious.

Alexia begins to tug the jumper up, over your stomach and then over your head.

You feel exposed, and your hands gravitate up to cover the skin almost immediately, but Alexia’s own hands grab at your wrists, pulling them down to rest at your waist, before you can protest Alexia’s lips are on your neck, biting at the exposed skin around your bra.

“So pretty carino, red is definitely your colour.”

Her praise makes your hands relax, allowing her to manhandle you on her lap so you are resting directly on her hips, your legs parted on top of hers.

“Is it okay if Jenni takes off your pants, carino?”

You nod your head, looking down at Jenni as her hands hook into the waistband of your sweats and begging to gently tug them down your legs, you lift your hips up for her, allowing her to slip them off with ease and reveal the matching lace panties underneath.

Jenni groans, and it makes you feel a little bit more confident, as the Spaniard looks at you like you are a meal to be eaten.

Once your pants are off and resting on the floor somewhere, she parts your legs properly, so they are hanging off of Alexia’s, leaving you exposed to the room.

Subconsciously, you are aware that there are eyes on you, but it doesn’t really set in for you because all of your attention is on Jenni, watching as she gently begins to litter kisses up the insides of your thighs.

It elicits a series of dirty noises to fall from your mouth, breathy groans as Alexia continues to nip at your neck and collar bone whilst Jenni worships the skin between your thighs.

“P-please.”

Your voice is quiet, quiet enough amongst all of the noise in the room that you aren’t sure whether you’re heard.

“What do you want carino?”

You groan as Alexia’s lips move further up your neck, somehow, even from behind you she manages to get the perfect angle, her neck craning around your own to peck at the sensitive skin.

“P-please.”

You’re brain is short circuiting, all you can do is look down at Jenni with complete disbelief as her lips nibble at the edges of your panties.

“You’re going to have to use your words carino, otherwise how are we supposed to know what you want?”

Alexia’s voice is teasing, a little bit mocking as her hands work their way up and down your hips, scratching up and down the skin, over and over again, every once and a while randomly they will stray up to your bra, drawing little circles around the underwire and lace trim.

“Jenni, please, more.”

Your words are murmured, your confidence still low as you work up the courage to ask for exactly what you want.

“More of this?”

Jenni moves her lips further down your legs, closer to your knee, earning her a sigh of annoyance from you and a big shake of your head.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific then, bebita.”

Jenni is quite frankly, in your opinion, the picture of desire.

Resting on her knees, her feet tucked underneath her thighs, legs spread, juices dripping down her chin and a big wolfish smile on her face.

It’s an out of body experience in itself just to look at her, but to feel her own desire to please you, it’s something else completely.

“Jenni, please, anything just touch my pussy.”

You don’t like top use vulgar language, but you know that there isn’t going to be any way to get her to do what you want without asking for it directly, so you do.

You are granted immediate validation, Jenni’s hands reaching up from her sides to the waistband of your panties, tugging them down at a speed that even you don’t even realise that they are off until Jenni’s lips are pressed directly against your heat.

The feeling ignites something in you, Jenni, doesn’t miss a beat, her mouth applying a pressure to you clit that in your opinion is absolutely perfect.

She knows what she’s doing, she reads your body like it’s an open book, parting your lips and folds apart with her tongue.

You’re a moaning mess, your hips thrusting on top of Alexia’s as Jenni eats you out like you are her last meal, savouring every single part of you, parts you weren’t even sure existed being worshipped.

You’re to much of a mess to even realise Alexia’s unclipped your bra, until her lips are on your nipples, her two hands resting on your belly, just above Jenni’s head.

It’s so amny sensations, so many fireworks bursting all over your body with every touch, nip and lick. You understand now what Alexia had said, about all of this being an atmospheric experience, about the magic of being in a room full of women who are experiencing just as much pleasure as you are, it’s a whole other energy you’ve ever experienced.

You’ve played at a a Euro’s, you’ve played at a full Wembley, and yet it wouldn’t come anywhere near this, in any form of excitement or pleasure.

Jenni is a expert with her mouth, alternating between sucking at your clit with so much pressure that your eyes roll into the back of your head, and flicking her tongue in and out of your hole, slurping up any new juices that are coming from it.

“G-god feels so good.”

Jenni seems to take the praise as even more of an incentive, the pressure applied to your clit somehow increasing, making you thrust directly into her. Alexia’s grip on your stomach and hips is strong, holding you down directly against her but you can’t stop the movements.

“How good does she feel carino? Is she getting you all ready for Ingrid’s cock?”

Your eyes stray from Jenni, up to the bed, where Ingrid is still pounding into an almost lifeless Aitana, who looks so blissed out that you wonder if she’s even remotely on the same planet as any of you anymore.

“S-so good.”

Your words are stuttered out between moans, your mouth hanging wide open as you continue to watch Ingrid, Aitana is bobbing up and down with every single thrust, her body almost ragdolling, the only thing holding her up behind Mapi, who has her hands securely on her hips, her fingers rubbing big circles over Aitana’s clit.

Ingrid looks wild, her hair all splayed out and sweaty, sticking to her face and neck, not that she seems to mind, all of her focus is on Aitana and the dildo that is connecting their two bodies.

“Are you going to cum for us carino? Going to cum all over Jenni’s face? Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You don’t even really notice that you are on the edge until Alexia’s reminding you, and suddenly you feel it all wash over you, the coil in your stomach snug and tight as Jenni focuses on your clit, applying pressure with her tongue and moving it in deep, tight circles.

“G-gonna cum, please can I cum?”

Alexia’s lips focus on your nipples, one of her hands reaching up from your hips to pinch the other one.

“Such good manners, go ahead carino.”

In synchronisation, Alexia pinches your nipple just hard enough for the pain to turn into pure pleasure and Jenni sucks down on your clit so hard that you see stars.

The mixed sensations have your body thrashing, Alexia’s hands being the only thing to stop you from falling off of her lap.

It’s unlike any other orgasm you’ve ever experienced, everything heightens for a few seconds, and then it all comes crashing down, your body going limp and shaking, your toes curling and feet arching as Jenni pulls all of the aftershocks from your body with her mouth.

Her focused sucking turns into big licks, from your clit down to your hole, parting everything as she runs over and over the same stripe.

It doesn’t take you long to recover, your body slowly becoming more aware of its surroundings as Alexia’s lips and Jenni’s mouth slowly bring you back down to earth.

You’re over sensitive, so you begin to tug your hands from Alexia, reaching down to gently push Jenni’s face away from you, well aware that if she keeps going you’ll be forced into a premature orgasm that will be nowhere near as pleasurable as one that’s properly built up.

Jenni coos at you from down below, if you weren’t floating on a happy cloud then you’d probably find it a little bit condescending, which is a big juxtaposition considering that she’s on her knees below you.

“How was that, carino? Jenni is quite skilled with her mouth, if she could she’d spend every day of her life on her knees for a pretty girl like you.”

You want to say that Jenni most likely does spend a lot of her time on her knees for a pretty girl like Alexia, but the compliment is lost on your tongue.

“So good, thank you Jenni, I’m here any time you want.”

Everything is back into focus, and suddenly you feel overly shy, but also with all the endorphins rushing through you it’s hard to control your words until they are spilling out of your lips.

Alexia chuckles and Jenni just grins up at you, her hands resting on either side of your thighs whilst her mouth is blowing hot air directly onto you, it’s a nice sensation, less stimulating but still something.

“You are very welcome, bebita, I’ll definitely take you up on that in the future some time.”

You look over your shoulder at Alexia, who is just grinning at you.

“I don’t mind sharing, carino.”

You suddenly feel extremely shy, your head tucking itself into Alexia’s neck as you feel both the couples eyes on you.

“Is that not something that you’d want bebita, you don’t want to have some more fun with Jenni or I in the future?”

You shake your head into Alexia’s skin, it’s certainly something that you want, but it feels awkward asking for it, especially with the both of them staring intently at you.

“I need a verbal answer, carino.”

Alexia’s voice is a little bit taunting, she knows what she’s doing, trying to get a reaction out of you, and you play directly into it.

“If you guys wanted it, I’d be happy too.”

Alexia tugs your head out of her shoulder, just for her lips to hit yours as soon as they meet daylight. It’s a dominating kiss, Alexia taking over without any fight from you, it’s less sweet and soft to Keira and Lucy’s kiss, but the intention is all the same.

“Now, how about you go and put on a show for me, Ingrid, Mapi and Aitana are ready for you.”

You pull your lips from Alexia’s looking back over to the bed.

It’s a different scene to previously, Aitana is sat up the very top of the bed, pressed up against the headboards and pillows, her legs spread eagle whilst Ingrid and Mapi are sitting at the bottom of the bed, lazily making out. Aitana’s eyes are starry and glazed, she looks orgasm drunk, completely inebriated with whatever pleasure she’s experiencing.

“María, I have a present for you.”

Alexia gently pushes you out of her lap, your body stumbling towards the other couple as you adjust to the different sensation of walking. Your legs are wobbly per say, more so that your head feels a lot heavier on top of your body.

Mapi and Ingrid break apart, just in time for you to stagger your way in front of the mattress.

“Hola.”

You nod your head meekly at Mapi, it’s your first time meeting her, and the both of you are butt ass naked in a room full of women fucking.

Lucy has Pina bouncing up and down on her lap, whilst Patri has Keira sitting on the couch, one of her knees strung over Patri’s shoulder as she slowly but deeply fucks her, the couples are making out with each other diagonally across each others body. It’s something that you’d see in a porno, not in real life, and yet there they are, a couple of metres to the side of you. Whereas Ona is being stuffed to the brim, her pussy filled with a vibrator, ass stuffed with Caros fingers and mouth filled with Marta’s strap whilst Frido is softly grinding herself up and down Onas toned stomach. You can’t see her face, but you can picture it in your head, her face titled to a side, mouth filled with dick, her eyes full of ecstasy as she experiences all the different sensations, her own slobber dripping down her chin.

Mapi reaches out for you, guiding your eyes to her own.

“Tan bonita, did Jenni treat you well?”

You nod your head, unsure how to put what you just felt into words.

“She’s good with her mouth, the best way to shut that one up is to put her on her knees.”

You gulp, definitely unsure what to say to that, Mapi is smirking cavalierly, like she’s somehow getting off on your awkwardness.

“María, play nice, or else you won’t be getting your reward.”

Mapi almost immediately shrinks backwards, suddenly your attention is captured by Ingrid, the Norwegian woman’s voice is commanding and you can’t for the life of you ignore it.

“You’re quite a cute little thing aren’t you?”

Ingrid’s voice towards you is very different to how she’d been talking to Mapi, it’s gone up a few octaves, much softer, like she’s talking to a stray cat or a little kid.

“Mm not cute.”

Your words are gruff, more like you are trying to convince yourself not Ingrid, she breaks out into a big smile.

“Oh of course not, you’ve just got a cute little face and a cute little frown and cute little shaky legs.”

You feel your skin flush red, you feel like you’re under a microscope in front of her.

“Oh honey, don’t take it so seriously, I'm just teasing you, take it as a compliment, I find you very cute.”

You bite down on your lip, shivering when Ingrid’s hand comes up to your shoulder resting gently on it.

“Look at Tana, isn’t she so pretty all fucked out? You’d look so pretty like that, your body all spent from being stuffed full, do you want that? Want me and Mapi to fill you up all nice and full?”

You nod your head eagerly, Ingrid is still strapped up and fuck is it the most bewildering sight you’ve ever seen, she towers over you, literally looking like a goddess.

“Yes, please.”

Ingrid smiles at you, a big toothy smile, her thumb rubbing skilled circles into your shoulder muscles as she looks down at you.

“Such good manners, Lucia and Keira must have taught you so well. How about you hop up on the bed and show Tana what your mouth can do?”

You practically jump onto the bed, crawling your way up to the top, slowly clawing your way closer to the naked body in front of you.

Aitana is quite literally dripping, her thighs and the sheets below her soaked in what must be the multiple orgasms she’s already had.

Her body is completely limp, the only proof that she's alive is her chest rising up and down slowly. Little puffs of breath that leave her mouth every few seconds, like she’s trying to regain her composure but it’s a losing battle.

“Go ahead, amor.”

You look over your shoulder to Ingrid, who is nodding encouragingly at you.

You don’t want to disappoint her, so you swiftly turn your head back around, gazing down at the pussy sitting right in front of you.

Aitana’s clit is puffy and sticking out of its hood, a clear sign that she must be pretty sensitive, so to

begin with you sticking to the edges of her folds, gently running your flattened out tongue along the sides.

Her cum and arousal is a salty sweet taste, one that’s addicting and tastes exceptional on your tongue. When she moans, you jolt a little bit, surprised by the evidence that she is in fact alive and not completely passed out on the bed.

It eggs you on a bit, enough for you to move your tongue down to her hole and lick up the pool of arousal and cum from her previous orgasms.

Aitana’s arm's reach down to your scalp tugging at your hair gently, pulling you further into her and you let her.

It’s just as you begin to nudge your nose against her clit and probe her hole with your tongue that you feel a finger enter your own pussy.

Your back arches almost immediately, you’d felt the want in your stomach but having it finally be catered to is exceptional.

Ingrid’s finger is long and slender, and after a few slow strokes you are desperate for more.

You know they are Ingrid’s fingers, because in the very short amount of time that you’ve spent with your head in between Aitana’s legs, Mapi has managed to make her way up to the bed and straddle Aitana’s face, the Spaniard already rocking up and down the Ballon D’or winners face.

“More, please.”

Your words are hushed and mellowed out against Aitana’s sex, but Ingrid must hear them because on the next thrust she adds another finger.

It’s a little bit more of a stretch, but your body accommodates it with ease, Ingrid’s fingers slowly opening you up with every thrust of her fingers.

Aitana’s hands stay laced in your hair, tugging you up to her clit.

Her moans are now silenced by Mapi’s pussy, but the way her legs tremble on either side of your head and the way her hips cant up randomly every once in a while.

When ingrid leans over, breathing hot air directly into your ear, it makes your spine shiver.

“You want my cock baby girl? Want me to fuck you hard from behind? Make you scream my name into Tana’s pussy?”

You nod your head vigorously, your head nudging Aitana’s clit making her hips thrust up into your face.

“You make her cum and I’ll fuck you, how does that sound?”

It sounds like music to your ears, and as soon as the words have left Ingrid’s mouth you are diving into Aitana’s sex, sucking down on her clit.

She screams out, loud enough that it’s heard underneath Mapi’s pussy, chances are that she is very overstimulated and over sensitive and the sudden pressure is probably sending shock waves up and across her body.

You don’t give up though, to focused on your own impending pleasure, which is practically at a stand still with Ingrid’s fingers leisurely thrusting short and shallow into you.

It doesn’t take long for Aitana to get to the edge, you can tell because the shaking in her legs turns to spasms and they clench down on the sheets, as soon as this happens you bite down on her clit, not hard, but enough for it to be enough pressure for her legs to completely seize up.

As soon as it happens, Ingrid’s fingers disappear from your cunt and are replaced by the silicone cock slowly beginning to slide into you.

If you were a religious woman, you’d call whatever it was you were experiencing a godly encounter.

Ingrid didn’t waste any time, once she’d bottomed out in you with out any protests from you, she started to slowly fuck in and out of you.

You busied yourself with licking up the aftermath of Aitana’s orgasm, she was on a whole other level of over stimulation though, and you didn’t push it when she forced your head away from her thighs.

Instead Ingrid took a hold of your hair, pulling you up onto all fours as she began to thrust in and out of you at a faster pace.

“How does it feel being filled up with my cock amorcito? How does it feel to be my little cock slut, just another hole for me to use?”

Ingrid’s words are feral, and they only spur you on no further, your hips pushing back to meet her at every single thrust.

It’s inexplicably the most intense but perfect thing you’ve experienced in a while. Ingrid's hands on your waist are soft, but her words and thrusts are so rough, it’s a perfect balance between the two.

“I-Ingrid, please, faster.”

Your words are forced out between thrusts and moans, your mouth trying to articulate your desperation without it turning into a mess of sounds.

“Does my little cock slut want it harder? María, do you think she deserves it harder?”

You look up at Mapi, the Spaniard is lent up against the headboard, but she turns around to take a good look at you.

“I don’t know, is she being a good girl, or a bad girl like Onita over there?”

Your eyebrows raise up your forehead, and before you can even ask Ingrid is swivelling your body around, so you are met face to face with the sight of Ona, who is bent over the sofa, still stuffed with toys, whilst Alexia is spanking her with what looks to be a riding crop of some sort.

“This is what happens when you cum without permission, maldita puta.”

You cringe into yourself when the sound of the whip connecting with Ona’s skin rings out, the sound is almost immediately followed up with a moan, you aren’t sure whether it’s one of pain or pleasure, but the way that Ona’s hips push back to meet the leather tells you that she definitely doesn’t hate it.

“You’re good right bebita? You wouldn’t disobey me would you?”

You shake your head vigorously, the last thing on your mind right now is disobeying. You can be a brat, in certain circumstances, but in a room full of people who literally bleed confidence you're a little bit more cautious of your actions.

“She’s too much of a people pleaser to disobey, isn’t that right little one?”

It’s Lucy’s cocky voice from the couch that pulls Ingrid’s and your attention.

“Is that right? So how would you feel then if I switched to fucking Tana?”

Subconsciously, you know that if Aitana is far to gone for Ingrid to even try to fuck, but your dicked up brain does not know that and it is completely terrified of Ingrid pulling through with what she’s just said to you.

“Please no, please i’ll be good, please keep fucking me.”

You hear Ingrid snicker from behind you, all you can do is watch on as Ona continues to be brutally spanked by Alexia, Ona being a more than content participant.

“Ingrid, be nice, she’s so young and new, we need to test out her stamina.”

You pivot your head to look at Mapi, who is no longer sitting on Aitana’s face, instead, she is sucking marks into Ingrid’s neck whilst the Norwegian continues to fuck you at a slow but steady pace.

“Mm, she has been good so far, how about we see just how much you can take?”

Your brain doesn’t fully articulate what Ingrid is saying, until a wet solid comes up against your asshole.

It takes you a few seconds to realise that there is a finger, pressed straight up against it.

You flinch away from the contact, but Ingrid’s hands hold you still and keep you from moving away from it.

“Has anyone fucked you back here before, hermosa?”

You shake your head deftly at Mapi’s voice, gulping as she gently begins to push her finger inside.

“Joder, a little virgin? It’s going to be so fun opening you up, I’ll be nice and gentle, just focus on Ingrid.”

You nod your head, taking a deep breath and focusing on the feeling of Ingrid’s hips slamming up against your ass cheeks with every single thrust of her hips.

As Ingrid thrusts, Mapi slowly begins to work a finger into you.

It’s a weird kind of stretch, but it doesn’t hurt, and you are so focused on pleasing the couple that you hardly notice it. To caught up in the sight of Onas fate and desperately trying to avoid it. Punishment, can be fun, but tonight you want pleasure, you crave it with every single cell in your body and your positive that if you don’t achieve it then you’ll be broken.

Before you even realise, Mapi is easily slipping one of her fingers into you, and once she’s certain that there is no longer a stretch, she begins to work a second finger in.

This definitely gets your attention, having two different people penetrating you is something you’ve never experienced before, at first it hurts and is weirdly tender, but as time goes on, you slowly begin to fade into a mellow state of pleasure, a cloud of happiness and ecstasy.

The duo of the two forms is fantastic, and you find yourself in the edge once Mapi is easily sliding her two fingers in and out of you.

“I-Ingrid please, I’ll be good, let me cum, please.”

Your almost whining, the sight of Ona, being held open, her pussy and ass both stuffed with vibrators whilst Alexia spanks her clit, is something else entirely and it’s making you even more aroused.

“How do María’s fingers feeling bonita? How does it feel to be stretched out around two people?”

Your answer is strung together quickly, the desperation for your release only heightening.

“So fucking good, please, let me cum for both of you.”

Ingrid’s thrust suddenly become far more frantic, her hips canting upwards, the strap rubbing directly against your g-spot.

“Cum for us bebita.”

As soon as the words leave Ingrid’s mouth you are coming undone.

Your whole body goes limp, your body completely inebriated with pleasure as Ingrid continues to fuck you through the after shocks.

Mapi pulls out, instead moving to begin gently rubbing at your back and whispering reassurances in your ear.

“Such a good girl, so perfect for us.”

When you start to come down, Ingrid slowly slips out, leaving you legless and boneless in front of them on the bed.

Before you can say anything, Mapi is turning you over and cleaning you up with her mouth.

After the two orgasms everything is far more sensitive, but you’re still recovering and don’t have the energy to stop her even if you wanted to.

You lie on the bed, Mapi eating you out, Ingrid gently massaging the inside of your thighs until from somewhere across the room, a voice tells out to them.

“Maria, bring her over here.”

Mapi’s mouth leaves your sex and much to your displeasure, she lifts you up and sits you down on the edge of the bed.

Your head is still spinning a little bit, but after a few seconds in the vertical position you manage to stop your surroundings from doing somersaults in your head.

“Carino, come over here.”

Alexia is sat on the couch, legs wide open, Ona sitting on her knees in front of one of her legs.

Mapi helps you to hoist yourself up off the bed, your legs are definitely shaky but you manage to make your way over to the captain without any major struggle.

When you do, she gently direct you to her thigh, helping you to straddle the muscular skin.

“See Ona, this is what good girls get, good girls get to get themselves off on me, whereas bad girls just have to sit and watch.”

You look down at Ona, shocked by the little red lashes across her ass and how willing she is to partake in whatever this is.

“You can move carino, be a good girl and get off on my thigh.”

Before you can do anything, Alexia’s hands are at your hips, gently helping you to begin rocking against her.

It’s a completely different sensation, and it takes you a few seconds to figure out the exact way to run up against the flexed muscles to hit your clit in the right place, but once you do it feels impeccable.

“Such a good girl, not like our Ona who just can’t seem to behave, you would never disobey, would you?”

You shake your head at Alexia, your mouth wide open as you moan happily on her thigh, rutting up and down it with absolutely no care for your partner on the floor.

“Alexia?”

Alexia’s eyes are on Ona, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, her attention falls back to you, her eyes wide in question.

“Yes carino?”

You continue to rub yourself up and down, chasing another high like the two previous.

“Can I please cum?”

Your not quite on the edge, but a few more hits of Alexia’s quads flexing up against your clit and you might very well be.

“Of course carino, you’re our good girl, such a perfect girl, go ahead. Ona, watch as our good carino gets exactly what she wants because she’s been a good girl.”

Suddenly Alexia completely flexes her muscles, and as you’d predicted after a few good thrusts into her thigh, your coming undone, your body collapsing into Alexia’s chest as you moan happily and cum all over her thigh.

Alexia lifts you up, gently placing you down on the couch beside her before ordering Ona to clean up her thigh and then refocusing back onto you.

Alexia waits until your just about to come down, before she pulls out a little bullet vibe and presses it directly to you clit.

The sound of you screaming out is music to her ears, and she doesn’t let up on the pressure at all, watching as your legs spasm and thrash from the overstimulation.

Before you can say anything, you’re being forced into another orgasm. It’s not as good as the other ones, less satisfaction over the work that you’d done to get to it, and it hurts like a bitch, but it’s the final straw for your body.

Your whole body completely goes limp, similar to Aitana on the bed who is now being cleaned up by the couple and force fed a protein bar and water.

Alexia brings you to her side, letting you rest in the cranny in her neck.

You’re happy there, her skin is warm and familiar and you feel more protected with your head in her shoulder then you do with it exposed to the outside world, so you stay there until Lucy and Keira come over to collect you.

Lucy manhandles you to somewhere, a bedroom maybe but your head is so high up in the clouds you aren’t sure of anything.

You just know that you are comfy and very happy in the arms of Keira on the bed.

“You did so good honey, so proud of you, so very perfect you were.”

Keira’s praise doesn’t really register in your mind, but the kindness behind her words does and that’s enough to put your mind to rest.

Lucy takes her time in cleaning you up, running a washcloth between your thighs and gently massaging at any cramps or locked muscles in your body.

Once she’s done, she joins you and Keira in bed, the two cradling you between them.

In the morning, or whenever you wake up, they’ll tell you how proud they are, how brilliant you were and how next time they’ll just keep you all for themselves instead of sharing you around. Alexia will try and claim you as her own, her love for you stemming a lot deeper now at the connection that’s been formed.

One things for sure, this will definitely not be your last escapade with the barca girls.

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jksarchives · 2 months

Text

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP │01

PAIRING; jungkook x reader

GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

WC; 2.2k

✎ series masterlist

1. SHOCK AND DENIAL

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

▍31 JULY 2022

[ 07:05 p.m. ]

Jungkook returned home from work an hour earlier than he usually does, and his heart was racing as he fumbled with his keys. As he stepped into the house, he felt a knot of tension in his stomach that tightened with each passing second. His hands were slightly shaking as he placed his briefcase on the dining table with a soft thud.

He nervously nibbled on his lips, a habit he thought he had outgrown from his early childhood. He tiredly removed his suit jacket and draped it carefully over the back of a chair, leaving him in his plain white long-sleeved shirt and red tie.

You were supposed to be home two hours ago, but the house was oddly quiet. “Y/n?” he called out for you, his voice wavering slightly. He took a few tentative steps towards the kitchen, his shoes clicking softly on the hardwood floor. But you weren’t there.

He then decided to check upstairs. “Y/n?” he called out once again. The creak of the wooden steps under his feet was the only noise that accompanied him, until he reached the top where he could hear the shower running.

“I’m in the bathroom!” he heard a faint reply from you.

Heaving out a sigh, Jungkook plopped down on the neatly made bed. He rested his elbows on his knees while he hung his head low. He felt a dull ache in his heart that he couldn’t shake, and his mind was clouded with thoughts that had him restless for months.

He didn’t know how he was going to do this, but he knew he had to.

┄┄┄┄┄

Fifteen minutes later, you stepped out of the bathroom. Your damp hair clung to your shoulders, and droplets of water traced gentle paths down your skin. Wrapped in a plush, white towel, you felt recharged and a sense of serenity.

It had been a long tiring day at work, and you hoped that a nice hot shower would help wash away the day’s stress. You couldn’t bother having dinner, all you needed now was to snuggle up with your man and fall asleep at the sound of his steady heartbeat.

“You’re home early today” you grinned as you entered the bedroom.

But your grin quickly faltered when you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed with his fingers tugging on his once gelled locks as he hung his head low.

“Baby?” your voice was gentle, tinged with concern. You took a cautious step forward, your wet feet making faint impressions on the carpet.

Jungkook didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with unsaid words. You saw him rub his face with his hands before finally looking up at you. There was something written on his face. Something foreign that you couldn’t read.

“I need to talk to you” he said, “can you dress up and meet me downstairs?” he said. He tried to sound steady, yet the shakiness and tiredness in his voice betrayed him. And the way he looked at you with his dim hooded eyes, your heartbeat unknowingly began to pick up.

Having said that, Jungkook stood up and walked out of the room without sparing you another glance. You quietly watched him walk away, your brows slightly furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

You stood there thinking about what he might want to talk to you about.

For the past few months, you noticed subtle but unmistakable changes in Jungkook’s behavior. It started innocently enough — missed calls, delayed texts, and a general sense of distraction whenever you were together.

Most of the time, you could sense that he was forcing himself to smile. To do certain things that he used to do out of affection, like gifting you a bouquet of roses every Sunday evening when he comes home from work, which became a custom in your relationship.

And sometimes, what was once an unbroken routine began to slowly disrupt. Like making sure he booked every Friday off just to spend time with you, but now would spend time at his office.

Initially, you brushed it off, assuming it had to do with the pressures of Jungkook’s new role as CEO of his father’s company. After all, it was a significant responsibility, one that had been thrust upon him rather suddenly after his father decided to retire due to his health.

Jungkook had always been driven, he loved his job and what he was doing. But the promotion to CEO had brought about a new level of stress upon him. You knew he wasn’t ready just yet.

He was now responsible for the livelihoods of hundreds of employees, the strategic direction of the company, and maintaining the legacy his father had built over decades. However, his father promised him that he would do an amazing job, and that he’d make him proud no matter what.

You could see the weight of these demands and expectations in the lines of his face, and the exhaustion in his eyes. You understood that he was under immense pressure and tried to be as supportive as you could, giving him space to adjust to his new role.

However, as weeks turned into months, your initial understanding began to waver. Jungkook’s behavior became increasingly erratic. He started coming home late, often with no explanation. There were secretive phone calls that he would take in another room, and an air of detachment that seemed to grow by the day.

You found yourself in a state of constant worry as your mind raced with all the unanswered questions you had. And you made the effort to confront him, but he would often brush you away, saying he was just stressed. You knew it was more than that, but you didn’t press on the matter too much.

Jungkook was never the one to hide anything from you. He was always open to how he felt and all the things that were happening with and around him. The same went for you.

Now, the more you put your thoughts into this whole thing, the more anxious you felt.

┄┄┄┄┄

After drying your hair and changing into your favourite pink pyjamas, you went downstairs, feeling slightly uneasy.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you saw him. He was sitting on the couch with his hands clasped together and resting on his bouncing knees. His usual confident posture was replaced with one of tension and anxiousness.

You walked over to him, your presence breaking the silence that had settled in the room. He looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. But what stood out to you the most was the loss of spark in his eyes.

The sight tugged at your heart.

You sat down beside him, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Hey, what's going on?” you asked softly, your voice carrying both concern and love.

He took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to speak. “Y/n” he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I…I’ve been thinking about something lately. Something I’ve been feeling for a while, and it’s ” he continued, turning his gaze down to his fidgeting fingers.

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest at his tone. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as you braced yourself for whatever he was about to tell you.

You saw him pause, shutting his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, before opening them again.

“We need to break up”

His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, it’s blazing lightning striking you right in the heart.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. All the four walls around you felt like it was caving in, constraining you completely.

“What?” your voice was barely audible as your face dropped.

You were confused. So confused.

“Break up? What the hell are you talking about Jungkook?” you then questioned as your brows furrowed, defining the lines on your forehead.

Jungkook saw the way your lips trembled in panic, and it crushed him. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident.

“I can’t do this Y/n. It’s not fair to you. With everything going on at work, I've changed. You know that. I'm not the same person anymore, and it's not right to drag you through this with me. You deserve someone who can be there for you, completely” he said.

“No,” you shook your head, feeling your eyes water with tears which you fought to keep in.

“Where is all this really coming from Jungkook? I know it’s more than just work, and you know that too” your voice quivered.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he continued staring at you with his weary and empty eyes. He looked at you as if he had been caught, and he had no choice but to be completely honest with you, like he always had been.

But at the same time, the storm of emotion that was brewing inside him was starting to wreck his sanity, sending him to the edge.

“You really want to know?” he snapped.

You flinched at the sudden change in his tone and his hardened expression. You could sense the irritation in him growing with the way his jaw clenched and unclenched.

Nevertheless, you remained silent, until he spoke up.

“I’ve fallen out of love with you Y/n”

Each word he uttered felt like a physical blow to each corner of your sensitive body. Your eyes widened in disbelief, and your mind struggled to process what you had just heard.

“W-What?” you weakly croaked, feeling lumps of fat tears rolling down your pale cheeks.

“What do you m-mean?” you asked.

Jungkook slowly felt his anger dissipate, and he hung his head down in shame.

“Me overworking and spending less time with you like how we used to, I’ve been feeling so disconnected lately. I just…I just don’t feel the spark between us anymore Y/n” he tried to explain but fumbled with his words.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“I never meant for this to happen, I really didn’t Y/n. And I feel so fucking awful that I couldn’t be honest with you about it from the start and led you on thinking everything was okay” his voice cracked.

It felt surreal, like a nightmare from which you couldn't wake up. Your mind immediately went blank, struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

After ten years of sharing dreams, laughter, and countless memories, the foundation of your world was suddenly crumbling. You blinked rapidly, hoping to dispel the illusion, but his serious expression only confirmed your worst fears.

For ten years, you had been each other's rocks, from the naive excitement of your college years to the more settled, mature love of your late twenties. You both dreamed of getting married and having your own little family, but all that was now left was the shattered fragments of your heart.

A choked sob escaped your mouth but you quickly smacked your hand to cover your cries. Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes, he lost the courage to.

“Y-You’re lying” you shook your head in denial.

Your mind raced as you tried grasping for any logical explanation, but all you found was a tangled mess of confusion and hurt. You replayed his words in your head, hoping to find some hidden meaning, a clue that this was all a misunderstanding.

Jungkook’s heart ached at your denial, and he hated himself for dragging you deep into the ocean, and now you had no way of reaching back to the surface.

“You know I would never lie to you about something like this Y/n” he quietly answered, finally looking up at you.

There was a long silence. An uncomfortable one. The more you replayed his words altogether, the clearer everything became: he was serious.

“B-But everything was fine” you said, gasping for air as you spoke.

“I thought too, but things can change Y/n, and I’m sorry it had to be this way” he tried to explain.

You jumped up to your feet and stood in front of him, your chest rapidly rising and falling as you felt your body go into a hyperventilating mode.

“How can you just fall out of love Jungkook? We’ve been together for ten fucking years!” you spoke through your sobs.

Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, nose red and cheeks damp from the continuous tears. Your whole body was trembling as your mind fought between denial and acceptance of the given situation.

Jungkook stood up and took your hands in his, looking at you desperately like he wanted you to understand him. But your mind was blank, and all you could think was that you couldn’t let him go. Not the man who promised a future with you.

“Even the longest and strongest ships sailing in the sea fall apart Y/n. I never thought this would happen between us, but it did, and I’m so fucking sorry” he said, lightly squeezing your hands.

All you could do was stare at him in silence as you broke down completely in his arms. No matter how many times Jungkook mumbled sincere apologies to you, you knew it wasn’t going to fix the gaping hole in your heart.

‘This can’t be happening. No, it can’t.’

NEXT ➜

244 notes · View notes

taegularities · 9 months

Text

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep.

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear.

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion.

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work.

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching.

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh…

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you.

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too.

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks.

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting.

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

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zepskies · 10 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still.

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.”

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast.

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made.

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry.

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part.

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat.

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes.

He’s not leaving you.

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart.

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you.

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand.

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.”

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Heart of the Home #Smoke Eater #Part 11 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #Castiel #spn #supernatural #benny lafitte #jo harvelle #ellen harvelle #zepskies writes

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 5 months

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No Nut November - Steven

A/n: I had no motivation to write this but I'm happy it's finally done and I can add to this short series that people seem to be enjoying, oddly enough I don't expect this one to get the same love as the others just because it's Steven BUT I LOVE POPCORN

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, Steven being sad, reader admits to getting off on Steven in the middle of the night, if you think I missed something let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Intro

No nut November was a stupid idea, he never should’ve brought it up. The month hadn’t even started yet and he was pissed.

He left the studio with a headache just thinking about what would happen when he eventually lost. Even after moving in with you he’s woken up multiple times with stains on his underwear, all while you were sound asleep beside him.

He blasted the radio on his way home. Once he got to your shared apartment he couldn’t bring himself to get out and just sat there listening to Aerosmith’s “Crazy”, and a whole lot of their other sad songs. How did the radio know what he needed? And why was it all one of his favourite bands? He didn’t know, but he took it as a sign anyway and sat in his self-pity.

Eventually you came out and knocked on his window. He rolled it down and looked up at you with sad eyes and pouty lips.

“Did something happen?” You asked, reaching out for him and holding his face in your hand. He shook his head. “Then why are you sad?” He took a deep breath and rolled the window up, turned the car off and got out.

“Let’s just go inside.” He mumbled, an arm going over your shoulder as he walked you back inside.

Steven went straight for the couch and turned the TV on to distract himself. You went to the kitchen and got dinner, the dinner you made before he got home. It was a little cold but edible nonetheless.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked as you sat beside him. Steven poked at his food and slumped back on the couch.

“The guys and I have a bet going to see who can go a whole month without-” He stopped abruptly, not wanting to say it in front of your home cooked chicken.

“Without..?” You repeated softly, wanting him to finish what he was saying, though you had a pretty good idea on what he meant. “We can’t do anything for a month?” You finally asked, the drummer solemnly shook his head.

“It sucks ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose, I mean, I can’t even count the amount of wet dreams I get from just sleeping beside you.” You froze for a second. Steven must have seen that because he groaned. “Shit, sorry, I guess you didn’t know.”

“Guess I’ll have to stop doing that...” You muttered under your breath.

“You’ll stop doing what?” He looked at you with a smile, wanting to hear this dirty little secret you’ve been keeping from him.

“Well, it’s just,” you started, cheeks starting to heat up, “sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and-and you just look so pretty beside me...” You trail off, now it’s your turn to poke your food.

“Do you fuck me in my sleep?” He asked, sounding more proud than anything. You drop your fork with a huff.

“I don’t do that, I just- I may or may not...” You trail off again, poking your food once more.

“Do you get off on me in the middle of the night?” Steven asked with a big smile and bright eyes. You huffed again and that was all the confirmation he needed. “Oh, sweetheart, you could’ve just woken me up, I would’ve loved to help you out!”

“I know, but I don’t want to wake you up for something that simple when I know you won’t wake up if I just do it.” I look up at him with a small pout that quickly fades to a grin. “You sleep like a dead log, by the way.” You added with a chuckle. Steven scoffed and threw a cooked cut of carrot at you.

After that conversation Steven had more hope in this bet. Then he heard that Duff was out and he thought it would be even easier! The cherry on top was Axl getting out before him, oh he was teasing the ginger about it the rest of the day. Axl almost killed him for it, but he had no regrets.

He came home to you, hoping to tell you about it because he was so proud of himself for lasting longer than Axl, the man who started it. Kind of, it was mostly the drummer's fault for bringing up NNN in the first place. However, when he got home he found you already asleep on the couch.

Steven thought you were adorable, all curled up in your blankets with the TV on. God, he loved you so much.

He picked you up and carried you to bed, helping you out of your jeans and into something a little comfier before crawling into bed with you and falling asleep with his head on your chest, his favourite sleeping position.

“Stevie.” You whispered in his ear. “Come on, Stevie.” You gave him a little shake, trying to wake him up. When he didn’t stir you moved to sit on his lap, hovering over his limp dick with your hands planted on his fluffy chest. “Stevie~” You purred. “Stevie I need you~” You leaned forward and started kissing his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and biting his earlobe.

Finally the man began to wake up. “What are you- Oh~” He hummed when he put two and two together. “Couldn’t wait till morning?” You shook your head and rolled over beside him.

“I know you can’t do anything but...” You trailed off, tracing shapes on his bare chest.

“But..?” He prompted. You looked up at him with pleading eyes and a pout you know he just can’t say no to.

“Please..?”

“Please what?” His hand trailed up your arm and down your side before landing on your waist, giving it soft squeezes.

“What if you just fingered me or something?” You asked, thinking of other alternatives. Steven thought about it for a moment before crawling over you, slowly lowering himself further down the bed.

“I’ve got a better idea.” He mused as he tugged on the waistband of your shorts. His shorts, really, he got you into them because he thought they’d be more comfortable while you slept.

He pulled them off of you, as well as your underwear, and stayed like that for a moment just admiring your slick folds before delving into them. His tongue worked wonders on your sensitive parts, dipping into your cunt and circling your clit, sucking on the nub and making you go cross eyed with moans spilling out of you like a second language.

You had barely noticed that Steven had started grinding himself against the bed. His only thought was pleasuring you, though usually when he ate you out he’d do this, it was instinctual to get himself off on getting you off. He couldn’t help it, his drooling cock was bright red and ready to burst the same way you were, the knot in your gut quickly coming undone.

You screamed out his name, your hands pulling his hair as your thighs clamped down on his head. You often did that and he never complained once, rather loving the feeling of being locked to you.

You felt him moaning around you and when you looked down you could see he was twitching, he looked ready to cry.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You cooed, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at him. Steven got up and looked down to see a huge wet spot on his sweats, right where his cock was bulging through.

“I-I didn’t mean to-” He sputtered, clearly not over his high. You weren’t nearly as pent up as he’d been, getting yourself off whenever the need came about, the only difference was that Steven wasn’t the one getting you off. You hadn’t thought about how pent up he must’ve been, hell he probably didn’t put too much thought into it either.

“Well,” you started, still staring at his crotch, “if you’re out now there’s nothing keeping us from continuing... right?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, but...” Steven trailed off.

“But..?”

“I’m tired.” He said and crawled back to the top of the bed so he could lay down. “Can you top?” He asked with a big grin. You returned the expression and happily climbed on top of him.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses smut #steven adler x reader #steven adler fluff #steven adler gnr #gnr #steven adler

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differentpostrebel · 26 days

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Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfiction ever, and I'm super excited to share it with all of you! I've always loved fanfictions that span across multiple parts because they give so much room for character development and suspense. As a massive One Piece fan, I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I will enjoy writing it!

For this series, we'll start off in the Pre-Time Skip era, specifically during the Sabaody Archipelago arc. Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

A/N: some parts may be changed to fit the story, but others will remain the same. For instance, instead of eleven supernovas it will be twelve.

Word Count: 2.3k

Sanji x Y/N, OP x Y/N ,

Chapter 1: Desperate Measures: Saving a Friend

Having arrived at Sabaody Archipelago with your crew, along with Hatchan, Camie, and Pappag, the vibrant and bustling island immediately overwhelms your senses. The bright, multicolored bubbles floating through the air, the mix of strange and diverse people, and the looming presence of the massive mangrove trees create an atmosphere both wondrous and ominous. You can't help but feel a mix of excitement and unease—Sabaody is a place of both opportunity and danger.

Luffy, your captain, couldn’t wait any longer to get off the ship and explore. With his usual boundless energy, he leaped from the Sunny, already imagining the adventures that awaited him on Sabaody Archipelago. You remember the day he first asked you to join his crew. It was after a particularly intense battle where your fighting skills had caught his eye. He admired your strength, your resilience, and the way you stood your ground even in the face of overwhelming odds. Luffy, always the one to follow his instincts, had approached you with that wide, infectious grin and simply said, “Join my crew!”

At first, you were taken aback by his straightforwardness, but there was something about Luffy—his unwavering belief in his dreams, his ability to inspire those around him, and the way he saw potential in everyone—that made you consider his offer. He didn’t just see you as a warrior; he saw you as someone who could help him achieve his goal of becoming King of the Pirates. And so, after a moment of thought, you agreed, finding yourself swept up in the Straw Hats' chaotic yet oddly comforting world.

As Luffy heads down with Chopper, Zoro, is scanning the area to see if there are any threats nearby. “Sense anything Zoro?” you say as you begin to step out of the sunny. “Zoro glances around, his eyes sharp and focused, before shaking his head slightly. "Not at the moment," he replies, keeping his voice low. “Hey Mosshead, back off of Y/N, she doesn’t need you clinging on to her,” Sanji snaps, stepping in between you and Zoro, his eyes narrowing at the swordsman.

Zoro glares back, “Who’s clinging, you curly-browed idiot? I’m just making sure there’s no trouble.”

Before the argument can escalate further, Nami steps in, her hands on her hips. “Enough, both of you. Sanji, you’ll stay behind to guard the treasure along with Usopp. Franky, you’re staying on the ship too—just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

Sanji’s expression immediately softens, his usual heart eyes appearing as he turns to Nami. “Of course, my love, anything for you!” he says with a dreamy sigh. Then, as if remembering his role as the lovesick cook, he pulls out a single rose, handing it to you with a flourish. “Y/N, keep this with you on your journey, so you won’t forget about me.”

You take the rose, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “How could I forget about you, Sanji? I’ll be sure to keep it close.”

Sanji’s heart skips a beat as you flirt back, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Though he’s always been bold with his affection, there’s something about the way you respond that makes his heart race a little faster. You’ve always admired Sanji’s charm and his relentless dedication to those he cares about, and in moments like this, it’s hard not to let your own small crush on him slip through.

As you all disembark the ship, Hatchan begins to explain that he knows someone who can coat the ship for your journey to the next destination, Fishman Island. Camie and Pappag act as your guides, showing you around. Nami and Robin decide to head out for some shopping.

“You sure you don’t want to tag along?” Nami asks.

“Yeah, we could have our own mini girls’ day,” Robin adds with a smile.

Shaking your head with a smile, you reply, “No, that’s alright, you two go on ahead. I’ve got to make sure these guys”—you gesture towards the remaining group—“don’t wind up in too much trouble.”

“I’ll be sure to get you something!” Nami calls out as she and Robin head off to the stores.

“Well, Zoro, looks like you and I will be taking care of…”

“Zoro??”

“Damn, did he just leave?” You sigh and make your way back to your group.

Meanwhile, back on the Sunny…

“Sanji, you gotta relax, buddy. Nami, Robin, Camie, and Y/N are safe and fine,” says Franky, trying to calm Sanji down.

Sanji exhales a cloud of smoke from his cigarette, his eyes still filled with concern. “Yeah, I know,” he mutters, “but I can’t help worrying about them. Especially Y/N… she’s always getting into trouble, and I can’t help but think I should be there to protect her.”

Franky gives him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re on guard duty here, remember? We’ve got to keep the ship safe.”

Sanji’s gaze softens as he looks at the rose he’s tucked away for Y/N. “I just wish I could be there with her… make sure she knows how much she means to me.”

“Don’t worry, Sanji,” Franky chuckles. “They’re in good hands with you watching over the ship. And besides, you’ve got your own way of showing you care. That rose will do wonders.”

Sanji nods, taking a deep breath and letting his worry slowly fade. “You’re right. I’ll keep an eye out and make sure the ship stays in one piece. Just hope she gets my message.”

He glances at the rose again, a small smile appearing on his face as he tries to refocus on his duties.

Back in Sabaody…

After witnessing the cruelty of the nobles, a shiver ran down your spine as the unsettling images replayed in your mind. You couldn't shake the feeling of anger and disgust.

“Those bastards, no one should be treated like that,” Luffy says, his voice filled with rage. “I don’t care if you’re a noble or not.”

“It’s truly a horrifying sight to see,” Brooke agrees, his usual calm demeanor marred by the gravity of the situation. He and Chopper hurry to catch up with you and Luffy.

“Luffy, remember we promised Hatchan we’d lay low for a bit,” you remind him, trying to steady your own emotions. “As much as I want to strike back, we can’t risk it. We have to stay out of trouble for now.”

Just then, you’re ambushed by a group of bounty hunters who had been lying in wait. One of them, a scruffy man with a leering grin, points at you with wide eyes. “Hey! You’re Y/N, the one with the $115,000,000 Berry bounty. You’re one of the Supernovas!”

“Supernovas?, what are they talking about?” you say in a hushed tone.

Before they can react, you draw your blades with swift precision. The air around you crackles with energy as you unleash a flurry of strikes, each move perfectly calculated to disarm and incapacitate your attackers. Your combat skills, honed through countless battles, shine as you take them down one by one.

Luffy watches in awe, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he sees you effortlessly dispatch the bounty hunters. “Nice work, Y/N!” he cheers.

Brooke and Chopper finally catch up, their eyes wide at the sight of the defeated hunters. “Looks like we’ve got some unwanted attention,” Brooke observes. “But impressive as always.”

Smiling as you sheathe your blades, your breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “We need to stay sharp. Let’s get moving before more of them show up.”

Finally, after a bit of traveling, they reach Grove 13 and a bar where the coating engineer is said to stay. Upon entering, they are greeted by Shakky, the bar’s owner. A former pirate and friend of Hatchan, Shakky introduces herself with a friendly smile.

"Nice to meet you all," Shakky says. "I've heard quite a bit about the Straw Hats.”

The group exchanges pleasantries before asking about the engineer, Rayleigh. Shakky informs them that Rayleigh hasn’t been seen for a while, though he hasn’t left the island. He’s been wandering the bars and casinos for the past six months.

"Well, if Rayleigh’s been missing for that long, we might have to search for him ourselves," Luffy says.

Shakky nods. “Be careful. Since your arrival, there are now twelve rookie pirates with bounties over 100,000,000 berri who’ve reached the Red Line. Luffy, you're second highest among them.”

As the group absorbs this, Shakky explains that most of the Supernovas are staying in Grove 24. She describes some of them: Capone "Gang" Bege, the mafia-type pirate with a bounty of 138,000,000 berri, Jewelry Bonney, with a bounty of 140,000,000 Berri, Basil Hawkins, known as "The Magician" with a 249,000,000 bounty. In another part of the grove, Eustass "Captain" Kid (315,000,000) and Scratchmen Apoo (198,000,000)

In Grove 21, "The Mad Monk" Urouge (108,000,000) and "Massacre Soldier" Killer (162,000,000) next is "Red Flag" X Drake (222,000,000), a former Marine Rear Admiral, and Trafalgar Law (200,000,000), the last of the rookies. Shakky hands you the wanted posters and you note with a small smile that you and Zoro are also among the Supernovas. You’re listed with a bounty of 115,000,000, and Zoro with 120,000,000.

As you glance at the wanted posters of the Supernovas, you mutter with a playful grin, “Wow, Killer, Eustass Kidd, and Law… they’ve got something uniquely captivating about them. They look kind of cute.”

Brooke, catching your comment, bursts out with a cheerful, “Yoohoo! Looks like Sanji’s got some competition!”

You chuckle and tease, “Oh, definitely. Killer’s dangerous allure, Kidd’s raw intensity, and Law’s cool confidence—they each have a certain edge that’s hard to ignore.”

Leaning in closer, you let your voice drop with a sultry edge, “It’s not just their looks. There’s something about their vibe that’s a little… irresistible. Makes me wonder how they’d be in person.”

Brooke's jawbone clinks with his laughter. “Well, I can’t say I blame you. A little competition always spices things up, doesn’t it?”

You wink playfully. “Exactly. It’s all about the thrill of the chase. But for now, let’s see what these Supernovas are really like. Who knows, maybe they’ll be even more intriguing up close.”

Brooke’s grin remains, his eye sockets gleaming with amusement. “I’m sure they will be. But remember, Sanji’s keeping a close eye on you. Don’t let him get too worked up!”

You laugh, the mischief in your eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry. A bit of competition never hurt anyone. It just makes everything more exciting.”

With that,the group heads out to find Rayleigh, the playful tension lingering in the air.

As the group sets out to find Rayleigh, Luffy suggests a visit to Sabaody Park to enjoy the day. Camie, brimming with excitement, eagerly tells you about the park’s significance and her past visits. You walk side by side with her, absorbing the vibrant atmosphere of the park and the joyful energy of the rides.

As you and Camie sit on a bench in Sabaody Park, catching your breath from the excitement of the rides, you both share a contented sigh.

"This place is amazing," Camie says with a smile, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I wish I could have experienced it like this more often. It’s so much fun!"

You nod, enjoying the moment. “I’m glad we could have this day. It’s been a blast.”

Just as you’re about to take another bite of your snack, a shadow looms over you. Before you can react, someone covers your mouth with a cloth, and another pair of hands grabs Camie. You both struggle, but the suddenness of it leaves you disoriented.

Through the fabric muffling your cries, you hear Camie's muffled voice. “Mmmph! What’s happening? Let us go!”

You try to yell out, but the cloth over your mouth stifles your words. Panicking, you reach for Camie’s hand, and you feel her trembling. The sound of ropes tightening around your wrists and ankles is followed by the heavy thud of sacks being pulled over you.

You catch a glimpse of Camie’s frightened eyes as she is shoved into a sack next to you. Through the layers of fabric, you try to comfort her.

“It’s going to be okay, Camie,” you whisper as best as you can through the gag, though it comes out as a muffled sound. “We just need to stay calm.”

You can hear the muffled sounds of Camie’s sobs from the sack next to you. The kidnappers’ harsh voices are distant but clear enough to make out their cruel intentions.

One of them grumbles, “They’re going to make a fine addition to the auction. The buyers will love them.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. The realization of being taken to be auctioned as slaves hits hard, but you try to remain composed for Camie’s sake. You shift slightly in the sack, trying to offer some comfort with your presence despite the dire situation.

In the oppressive darkness and confined space, all you can do is hope that your crew will find you in time before it’s too late.

OMGGGG, what do you guys think??? This one was long! But it'll be all worth it! Next chapter is going to be a good one that you don't want to miss. Currently writing it as we speak! Welcome to my page and I can't wait for you guys to read what I have in store!

#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro #sabaody archipelago #strawhat pirates #black leg sanji #angst #drama #monkey d luffy #celestial dragons #one piece fanfiction #sanji x y/n #onepiece x reader

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lavendertales · 6 months

Text

SEÑORITA: Chapter 9**

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: you get Javier to open up about his life in Colombia. meanwhile, when Steve invites the whole lot of you to brunch, it becomes tough to keep your relationship a secret, especially when Javier's confession burns on the tip of his tongue.

word count: 7k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut; lots of flirting, love confessions, mirror sex, cunnilingus & fingering, some dry humping , cockwarming, lil bit of praise kink & gentle dom!Javi.

A/N: so hiiii yes I am not dead, I am just not really posting anymore but I will see this story through. idk if this is as good as I'd hoped, but I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💕

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

series masterlist | AO3

There’s loud screams all around him. Smoke, screams, and the unmistakable scent of death and despair, all around him.

Someone’s screaming for him. Saying his name on a loop. Javier, Javier, Javier. Followed by Javi. Then a toe-curling help me and please, and then—silence.

A silence so loud his ears are ringing and pouring blood.

Except when he looks around him, there’s blood everywhere.

Blood, mass destruction, and an impending sense of doom that no matter how far he runs, no matter what lies he tells, it never leaves him. It is then, in that very second as he’s looking down at the bloodied and bruised face of a woman he once thought he could be with and save, Javier realizes that sense of doom will never leave him. He will remain forever locked in its harsh and cold grip, forever followed by the inevitable shame and guilt, doomed to drown in them.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “’m sorry—I’m—I couldn’t—“

“Javi. Hey. It’s okay. Can you hear me? Javi. It’s me.”

His name on a loop, pronounced so carefully and sincerely, so rich with care and an almost soul-crushing sweetness, awakens him at long last. He’s disoriented as he looks around, his temples and forehead dripping with sweat. There’s a hand gently resting on his chest, steadying his heartbeat, and it’s then that Javier’s eyes come into focus and they see your face. And then slowly the realization that he’s no longer in Colombia, no longer surrounded by pain, comes into focus as well, and that he’s in his bed, next to the most wonderful woman he’s ever known.

“Are you alright?” you ask, gently rubbing his chest through the t-shirt.

“Yeah. I’m definitely better now.”

He cracks a reassuring smile and so do you.

“Nightmare?” you ask next.

Javier nods, rather hesitantly. “I was back in Colombia. In Bogota.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Upon noticing the hesitation on his face, you’re quick to add, “It’s okay if you don’t want to though. I don’t have to know everything about your past.”

Something about that feels oddly endearing; Javier hasn’t met anyone who has been as kind and understanding as you and for every genuine word you throw at him, for every gentle caress of his hand or his cheek, he feels his chest impossibly lighter, as if all the pain he has been carrying with him for the past few years is beginning to wear off at long last.

Though his tongue aches for verbal release, Javier isn’t certain that he wants to burden you with the horrors he had witnessed and done in Colombia. You are far too tame to handle such harsh realities, even if you clearly expect the truth and nothing but it.

“I did things I’m not proud of,” he lets out in a coarser than expected voice. “Terrible things. Either for information or out of… helplessness or desperation.”

You don’t say anything; you adjust your position so that you face him clearer, even in the darkness, and let him continue.

“I’m no saint, by no means. I guess sometimes I thought my actions were justified because the end result would be good. But it rarely ever was.”

And before he knows it, Javier is telling you the chapter of his life which he deemed closed some time ago, from start to finish: he tells you about him and Steve and how they worked together; he tells you about working with the most gruesome group in all of Colombia in order to get to Pablo Escobar; he tells you about Helena and how he cared about her and how he got her traumatized simply because he pushed her too much for information; he tells you of all the people he threatened, shot, of all the plans he made and failed, how he got the so-called promotion in Cali and how it meant that Steve was the one who ended Escobar eventually. By the end of it, it’s nearly morning and you’re cuddled at his chest, listening to him breathe and caressing his cheek.

“I appreciate you opening up about this,” you murmur. “I know it can’t possibly be easy.”

“It is. It feels easier with you.”

You smile, chastely kissing his lips. Javier’s chest rises and falls with each additional shaky breath he takes as he forces his mind to collaborate with his mouth in order to get out those pesky three words that have been pressing on his conscience for weeks now. Yet the way you kiss him tenderly and sweetly, as if to reassure him that he’s safe and sound from any harm in this world, it shuts him up real good.

His mother once told him that when he’ll meet someone special, he’ll know it and he’ll know just what to say and when. He was still a kid at the time and he dismissed his mother’s words, but now he feels them to be truer than ever.

“So if we were in Colombia,” you say suddenly as a smirk graces your lips, “would I be one of your girls?”

Javier turns to you, faintly amused. He cocks an eyebrow at you, his interest visibly peaked.

“What?”

“Would I be one of many girls that fall at Javier Peña’s feet? One of the lucky ones who get to go to bed with him?”

Something aches inside Javier as you pose that question. It’s a playful one and while you have no ill intentions behind it, it dawns on Javier that the idea repulses him on a certain level. The idea of you being just another pretty face to add to that seemingly endless list of conquests, another forgettable name on there… he doesn’t want that.

Especially not when the reality could not be more farther from the truth.

“No,” he responds, shifting closer to you and removing a strand of hair from your face. “No, absolutely not.”

You smile, somewhat confused. “Why not?”

“Because you’re—better. You’re—you’re everything, you—“

His heart starts pounding, his throat feels beyond dry and it feels as if there is a huge ball of fire in his chest, waiting to burst at the slightest movement.

“I—what?”

Tell her. Tell her now.

Tell her you fucking coward!

“We should get some rest,” Javier mutters, stroking your hair and coaxing you into his arms so that you fall asleep as soon as possible. Once you do, he finally exhales, still burdened and haunted, but much more secure in his decision to finally come clean to you tomorrow, no matter what.

Except that when tomorrow comes, Javier receives an unexpected invitation.

“You free in about two hours?” Steve’s voice asks through the phone, and Javier gulps out of instinct.

“Yeah, think so. Why?”

“How would you feel about having brunch with me and Connie?”

He falters, and it’s as if Steve can sense the hesitation on his part because he’s quick to add, “Hopefully my sister’s gonna be there too. Also Sylvie and her boyfriend Zack, they’re coming too. You know, my sister’s friends.”

“Right, yeah, I think she mentioned them at some point.”

“Yeah. I thought a nice friendly meal would do us all good. What do you say?”

Javier meets your face from the corner of his eye and notices the question written all over it. He shakes his head briefly, a little “I’ll handle this for us” sign, and resumes his conversation with Steve.

“Sounds nice, I’m in,” he tells Steve.

“Great. Just gotta call my sister now. Or hope to get in touch with her at least.”

“Just call her, I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.”

The moment he hangs up, he stares at you with the same guilty face he’s been having whenever Steve’s been around lately.

“You need to go to your apartment,” he tells you in a grim voice.

You frown. “Are you kicking me out?”

Javier makes a face. “No, of course not. But you need to go to your apartment because your brother’s gonna call you and you need to answer the phone.”

“I could be sleeping in. It’s Sunday, after all. I could’ve been out last night. Hell, I could’ve been with somebody. Maybe I was with Dean and we—“

“Okay, stop.”

You try not to smile seeing the bothered look on Javier’s face. Instead, you inch closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Aw, honey, are you jealous of Dean?” you peck his lips.

“I think we’ve already established that I was. But not anymore. I’ve got you, and he can go suck a lemon for all I care.”

You scoff, kissing him again, utterly enjoying the sensation of Javier simply melting into your arms, into the kiss you share.

“You really should stop with this because if you don’t, we’re gonna be stuck in here for the rest of the day, spent and sweaty,” Javier warns, to which you cock an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, so what did my brother want?”

“He invited us to brunch.”

“Us?”

“Well, me. And he should be calling you any moment, so if you could go to your apartment and answer the phone, I’d really appreciate that.”

“But I could be—“

“Please. For me?”

You roll your eyes, sighing. “Fine. You’re lucky I’m sweet on you.”

Javier presses a kiss to your cheek, stroking your hand.

“But we need to set up some ground rules for this brunch,” he tells you sternly.

“Rules? For what?”

“We said we’re not gonna tell Steve about us until we’re ready, and we’re not really there yet, so no sitting together, no touching, no looking at each other unless absolutely necessary.”

“Don’t you think that makes it more suspicious?”

“Hopefully not.”

You chuckle. “For someone who used to be a bad boy, you sure like setting down rules.”

“I’m just saying—okay, just—just go upstairs.”

“Ooh, yes, sir.”

He knows you’re joking; he knows you’re teasing him, especially in that falsely impressed and sultry tone of voice, and yet a part of him still twitches at the thought of you being so willing, so malleable and needy for him.

It’s a thought that will never leave his mind—or his body.

The little bistro Steve chose—aka claims, because everyone knows Connie is the one who actually picked it—for the brunch is quite cozy: floral arrangements adorn the outside windows, little lights hang from the walls on the inside, and plenty of people buzzing and chatting, completely immersed in their conversations.

If he were honest, Javier preferred if the two of you showed up at this brunch separately—although in hindsight, that would probably raise more questions instead of burying them for good. But he still has a knot in his throat even when you assure him that nobody’s going to bat an eyelash and that they will all think you coming together here was nothing more but an act of convenience.

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” you sneakily squeeze Javier’s hand. “Could you at least try to look less constipated? Just—you know, for at least an hour or two.”

Javier frowns at you, taking a deep breath and taking one last, long look at you, as if he’s trying to memorize every single detail about you. You crack a smile.

“It’s going to be fine,” you reassure him. “You care far more about Steven’s opinion than I do. I don’t care if he finds out.”

“I kind of do.”

“I know you do. And it’s so sweet. But so what if he finds out? I mean… what’s he gonna uncover? That his little sister is in the healthiest and best relationship she’s ever had?”

“With his friend and partner whom he particularly asked not to fool around with his little sister.”

“Javi, we’re not just fooling around.” After a pause, you continue somewhat concerned. “Are we?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry this much.”

It’s quite astounding how fast you’re capable of calming Javier down with minimal effort. But it works, and when the two of you enter the place and take your seats at the table, greeted by the rest of the party, Javier breathes a little easier. He avoids Steve’s eyes as he shakes hands with Zach and Sylvie, guilt weighing on his conscience like the heaviest boulder. He tries his best in remembering your words that this isn’t about Steve, it’s about the two of you and your newfound happiness, but alas, he remains just a little bit stiff throughout brunch as conversation starts flowing between all of you.

On the brighter side, Javier smiles to himself seeing you and Steve engaged in conversation, laughing with each other. You’re sitting side by side to your brother, which means Javier is right in front of you and gets to notice the two of you mending your relationship.

Then he thinks again of how hopelessly in love he feels with you, how he has been for the past several weeks, if not more, and how it’s all happening behind Steve’s back. Maybe you were right, though; maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for Steve to find out at last. He’d find out that his little sister is happy, and that his best friend is content, at peace.

Would that be so bad?

And then he feels your foot rubbing against his, sneaking its way up, just in the slightest; he inhales a sharp breath, giving you a death stare, and he gets his answer.

Maybe it would be so bad.

“I hear you finished writing your book?” Sylvie asks you, redirecting Javier’s attention to the subject matter.

“I did,” you proudly say. “I need to do the final editing, run it by someone, but I’m pretty confident it’ll be out by next year. At least that’s the hope.”

“That’s so damn cool,” Zach says in between mouthfuls.

“Truly amazing,” Connie adds.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Everyone turns to look at Steve, who’s got the brightest smile on his face and his glass raised up. They all follow suit with the gesture, toasting your accomplishment as you stare at your big brother.

“Really, I am,” Steve goes on. “I’ve always been. Always thought you’re amazing. Much cooler than me.”

“By miles.”

The table laughs.

“But it dawned on me that I never really told you this. So… I want you to know that I am very proud of you, every day. And I love you.”

“Thank you. And I love you too.”

“Here, here!”

The conversation begins to flow easily afterwards: Connie shares Olivia’s latest endeavors and how she started walking; Zach and Sylvie talk about their relationship and how it is to live together, to which you make a tasteful joke about her pretending to still live with you as well and how you and Zach basically share Sylvie; then Steve talks about work and how he enjoys it, being similar and yet different than what he used to do in Colombia. Javier remains silent during this portion, sipping on his black coffee and pretending not to feel your leg sliding up his.

“What about you, Javier?” Sylvie asks.

“What about me what?”

“How do you like it at the precinct?”

“It’s okay.”

You eye him briefly, affectionately rubbing your leg on his shin, concealing a smile as you see him squirm in his seat.

“Javi’s having a bit of a tough time adjusting,” Steve intervenes.

“It’s police work. It’s what I know, and it’s what I do.”

“It’s what gives you nightmares.”

Everyone at the table turns towards you, the same surprised look on all of their faces. You shrug, ignoring Javier’s deadly stare.

“And you know this how?” Steve asks reticently.

“By talking. By asking and by actually getting to know people, Steven.”

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Javier suggests.

“What do you mean?” Steve resumes, focusing solely on you. “I know people, I talk to them.”

You take a deep breath, maintaining a neutral tone even if your pulse increases rapidly.

“You refer to Javier as your best friend, but besides work, how much do you really talk to each other?”

“We talk.”

“Sometimes too much if you ask me,” Javier adds.

“Point is, he is my best friend.”

“Really? Did you know that he has night terrors? Not nightmares, terrors. And not every night, but he has ‘em. He mumbles and groans in his sleep, sometimes cries or even screams. He apologizes over and over to dead people, to you and to Connie.”

“Oh, Javi…” Connie mumbles.

“Do you know how I know this?”

There’s a lightbulb moment happening inside Steve’s head, and it is perfectly legible on his face as he stares at you, then at Javier, who gulps. Steve says your name, still processing, and it is only then that Javier stands up abruptly, his eyes shooting right at you.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? All the way over there?”

You raise your eyebrows, quite surprised, but nod and follow Javier all the way to the buffet table. You notice the little crease between his brows, the way he purses his lips and you can tell something’s making him uncomfortable. Suddenly the thought makes you feel guilty.

“Javi, I’m sorry if I crossed a line—“

“You thought at brunch would be a good idea to rub your leg against me? With your friends and brother right next to you?”

You furrow your brows, even more taken aback. “Okay, not where I thought this conversation was headed,” you confess.

“Tell me.”

As much as you’d like to deny it or pretend like it doesn’t affect you, Javier’s demeanor is getting through to you in ways you wouldn’t have thought possible; the way he’s being so adamant about his request, his voice low and husky—

“I thought it would be fun, yes,” you shamelessly admit.

“You gotta stop it because otherwise I might excuse us again and fuck you in that bathroom.”

Speechless, you stare at him, mouth ajar and heart pounding in your ears. You find yourself incapable of saying anything for the next few seconds, and even more shocking, you find yourself seriously debating Javier’s words.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about it,” he says.

“Don’t tell me you’re not,” you chuckle.

Javier huffs, frustrated to the point of taking his own words into consideration.

Except he is trying really hard not to be that kind of man and be more respectful and wary.

“Gotta be honest, I thought you were gonna be upset about me saying you have nightmares,” you mutter.

“No, I’m upset because you were rubbing up against me with your brother right next to you, and I can’t keep going like this. So either you tell him about us, or I do.”

You stare at him incredulously. “Wait, seriously? You wanna tell him?”

“I need a clear conscience. And I really need it so next time I fuck you, I won’t feel so guilty.”

You chuckle, stroking his arm. You’re fully aware that the gesture hasn’t gone unnoticed by the four people who are most likely still staring at you two, but all of a sudden, you no longer care. Javier is right; just as he doesn’t want to deny or hide it anymore, neither do you.

So when you return to the table, the perfect comeback is hatched from your brain.

“Sorry about that,” you smile, turning straight to Steven.

“What’s going on?”

“As I was saying, do you know how I know all of those things about Javier?”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’ve been spending the nights at his place. Every night for like three months now.”

Connie and Sylvie are the only ones smiling, except the latter is sipping from her cup of coffee with utmost interest.

“Three months?” Steven repeats. “So you chose to sleep with my best friend to what? To prove a point, to—to laugh in my face?”

“Neither. Actually, it did start as a way to get back at you. But as it turns out, he’s great in the sack.”

“As advertised,” Javier adds.

“And you wanted to skip brunch today,” Sylvie whispers to Zach, who’s watching the exchange as speechless as Connie.

“Don’t—“Steve shakes his head.

“Oh yeah, he’s fantastic. Knows his way around a woman’s body better than she knows it. I’m talking about waves and waves of endless pleasure.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Actually, I think I might too. We haven’t really been careful, you know? It’s been a lot of sweaty, rough and yet so passionate—“

“Okay, stop! Why are you being like this? Both of you!”

You exchange a glare with Javier, both of you smiling at each other.

“Like what? Wild, unhinged?”

“Kind of, yes!”

“The way you’ve been treating me since I was 15? Which I haven’t been in years, by the way.”

“Please tell me you were using some form of birth control though.”

“Ew, shut up! Would you calm down already? We’re both responsible adults, we know what to do. Besides, we’re not just sleeping together. We’re going on dates and spending time together and… we like each other.”

“We’re not just fooling around,” Javier adds, unable to look away from you. “I’m in love with her.”

You stare back at him, ignoring Connie’s soft oh my God in your vicinity, even Sylvie’s I fuckin’ knew it towards Zach.

“Javi, it’s okay, you don’t have to—“

“I love her, Steve. And I did keep my promise to not fool around with her. What I can do is promise to keep her safe and treat her with respect and care.”

It dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve heard Javier say those words, and realizing he also hasn’t said them since his last real relationship. It’s a huge milestone in both your lives, and the fact that Javier chose this moment to confess makes you realize how much he must care about you.

“It’s true,” you add. “I—I love him too. I have for quite some time.”

“I fuckin’ told you,” Sylvie smiles. “I told you, and I knew sooner or later—“

“Not now, Syl.”

“Right, sorry. Continue.”

“Honey?” Connie presses her hand to Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t you wanna say something to them?”

“I’m really sorry, guys. I never wanted to… to treat you this way, to push you even further, sis. I guess I was just afraid that what Colombia did to me and Javier would be too much for you to handle. I know Connie got overwhelmed at some point. Rightfully so. But after all, I had her to come home to. Javier was… alone, and burying his problems in alcohol, cigarettes and random women. Relationships were out of question for him, and I saw what Colombia did to him overall, what all of that did to him. I didn’t want any of that for you. I obviously want you both to be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I see you guys now being so happy with each other… it makes me happy.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t tell you earlier,” Javier says. “I guess we needed some time to figure things out ourselves.”

“Doesn’t matter now. Point is, I know my sister, she’s an amazing woman, and I—I missed the angle where that might be something good for Javier. Which it clearly is. And clearly he was full of shit when he said you’re not his type.”

“Just out of curiosity,” you intervene, “what exactly is Javier’s type?”

“The usual sexy, sultry woman.”

You raise your brows, to which Steve panics. “Not that you’re not! I mean, not that I think you as my sister are sexy… okay, this is weird, let’s move on.”

“Yeah, let’s.”

“I meant, you’re more the next door girl kind of woman, I suppose, and Javier usually went for the ‘right in your face sexy’ kind of a woman.”

“Relax, I know. I’m just teasing you.”

“Yeah, it’s what you do best.”

Everyone laughs, with Connie affectionately rubbing Steve’s arm.

“But listen, as glad as I am that we are talking about this and being open and mature about it, please do be safe, okay?” Steve says, and you make a face. “Also I know this goes without saying, probably—hopefully—but please don’t have a baby just to spite me.”

“Steven—“

“Please, I’ve learned my lesson, I swear. I promise I’ll be good! I’ll stay out of your relationship, just don’t—“

“Steven!”

“I’m not totally ready to be an uncle. I need to mentally prepare myself for a baby that’s half Murphy, half Peña.”

You roll your eyes. “Would you relax? We are not there yet. We may never be there. I don’t know. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but for now we’re good the way we are. Plus he’s teaching me Spanish too.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“But don’t worry, we only do it when I get a full sentence right.”

Seeing the scandalized look on Steve’s face, you burst into laughter, and the rest follow suit.

“I’m kidding! Oh my God, it’s so fun messing with you.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

You can’t help but share the laughter with the rest of the company, never quite managing to capture Javier’s eyes in your direction, not even on the way home. It only hits you the weight of the words that had been hastily, yet calculatedly, been spilled at the brunch table among friends and family once you get the inside of his apartment. You look around, finally allowing the day’s events to hit you, and then you turn to look at Javier, a warm smile gracing your face.

He confessed to everyone present that he loved you, standing up to your overly protective older brother.

“What’s going on?” Javier asks.

It somehow still surprises you that he’s able to capture the concern on your face, even when it’s not there. You’re not concerned this time around. Quite the opposite; you’ve never felt more at ease and more impressed by a partner. Granted, not that you had many serious relationships in the past, but this right now with Javier, it has so much potential to be something grand that it astounds you.

“About what you said before,” you start, your heart thrumming in your ears. “At brunch.”

Then it hits Javier as well. He inhales deeply, steadying himself.

“Right. So here’s the thing,” he clears his throat. “I’ve only ever said those words once before, and as we know, it didn’t end very well. Okay, in all fairness, it wasn’t paradise city from the beginning, it was more of a masked—that’s not the point. Anyway—“

You conceal a chuckle, staring at him with anticipation and a warmth that exceeds any expectation.

“I’ve only said those words once,” he resumes, “and I did mean it at the time. But I wasn’t really… in love when I said them. It didn’t feel like it should. But now, I think for the first time in my life, I feel those words the way they should feel. I thought I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t do relationships because I suck at them and there was never any time back in Colombia but… I think I just needed to find my match.”

You take his hand into yours. “Javi…”

“I’m serious. I’ve never met anyone so witty and funny, so—so badass. Frankly you could probably kick my ass and I’d be hella turned on.”

You don’t stifle the hearty laugh that escapes your mouth this time, and it triggers the same reaction out of Javier.

“The point I’m trying to make is… I meant what I said. I didn’t just say it to shut Steve up. I—I do love you. The best that I can, which I don’t think is near enough to what you deserve, but… I’m trying to do better, to—“

You cup his cheeks, kissing him tenderly. Javier blinks surprised at you, and his flustered face with his big brown eyes is so sweet it weakens your knees.

“You’re doing just fine, Javi,” you reassure him. “Are you kidding me? You’re so attentive and sweet and—and I love you too.”

Javier blinks in surprise again. Somehow it slipped right by him that you could reciprocate his feelings, hence why he’s rendered speechless for several seconds.

“What uh—I mean… you do?” he finally asks.

“I do. I love you. I should’ve said it sooner, I think, after you turned my story into a book. That’s… kind of when I knew. I guess I chickened out.”

“You chickened out? Why?”

You sigh. “Because… I never said the words before.”

“Wait, you never said ‘I love you’ to someone?”

You shake your head, slightly shuddering. “Well, you know my dating history and patterns, so none of those boys stuck around long enough for me to actually develop real feelings. And there was never any real connection between us. All we really had—“

“Ah, okay, I can—I can visualize what you had.”

“Aw, honey, are you jealous?”

“No. Just… not really a fan of picturing you have sweaty sex with some douchebag.”

“How about if I have some sweaty sex with a very good man?”

Though his interest visibly peaked, Javier still gulps at the notion of being referred to as “a very good man”. It’s the lie he’s told himself countless times back in Medellin and Cali and Bogota, and the same lie he operated under with the hope of excusing his horrid choices. But to hear now as something factual, something that someone as wonderful as you actually believes in…

“You could,” he finally says, stepping closer to you.

His hands roam around your waist, teasing from the small of your back; shivers run down your spine, prickling your skin.

“Is this how you were with the women back then?” you dare ask.

“Why the sudden interest?”

You shrug. “Not sudden. I’m a writer. Everyone has the potential to be an interesting character. Besides, I find the Javier stories fascinating.”

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, that Javier isn’t really around. All he was good for was some fast and rough outlet for release and… not much more.”

“So I take it that dominant, needy Javier is gone?”

He raises his brows, chuckling at the way you’re sneakily handling him. A part of him still fears this power you hold over him, but a bigger part of him is thrilled even by the still of your hand, let alone the way you’re capable of handling him.

He’s never had that, he realizes; he’s never had a woman meet him right where he’s at, handle him like a pro and then some more, and he enjoys it far more than he would’ve expected.

“I meant gone as in… gone on a vacation, not dead.”

You smile, teasingly playing with the hem of his shirt.

“That what you need now?” Javier teases.

“I want whatever you’re comfortable with giving me.”

That’s what ultimately sets him off. So when he finally kisses you, it’s rugged, needy and asserting dominance, but there’s also something very tender in the way Javier is holding you, pulling you into his body. Javier’s sole focus right now is exposing more of you to him, feeling you as close as humanly possible; therefore, he doesn’t tell you just how affected he is by your choice of words. He doesn’t tell you that this is the weakest, yet strongest he’s ever felt. If someone were to ask him how he feels, he’d easily reply “disgustingly happy”, words which he never used before.

He doesn’t tell you any of this; he lets actions speak louder. Calloused fingers, accustomed to manhandling and roughhousing, caress and cup your ass. With each passing second, the kiss you share deepens further, his pulse quickens and his jeans become more and more constricted. Never mind that it’s the middle of the day, in broad daylight; Javier wants—needs—to marvel at every inch of you, exactly as it is.

“Whatever you want from me,” he tells you through a shuddering breath as he slowly undresses you, “it’s yours. Anything.”

Javier surprises himself at how malleable he finds himself to be, caught under your spell, but he does not care one bit. When you look into his eyes and see his blown out pupils, you know he means it. You feel his words to be true.

You smile as you close your eyes and pull him in for another hasty kiss, stumbling your way to the bed. Javier strips you slowly, stealing kisses down your body while a breath catches in your throat. The sun shines right through the big windows on this crisp fall day, so there’s nothing to hide. It’s only when Javier’s hands finally pull down your panties and expose you to him that you notice you’re facing the mirror hanging from the wall of his bedroom. You shiver and on cue, Javier’s hungry eyes look up to meet yours. He smirks—because of course he does, son of a bitch.

“It’s a great view, isn’t it?” he murmurs, tentatively licking a stripe up your pussy.

His eyes don’t leave you when you sneak another glance at the mirror: it’s not huge, but big enough to fit your naked body and Javier’s head right between your legs. No good words cross your mind, even if your mind is in overdrive, begging your mouth to release some form of verbal speech. Your knees buckle and your heart beats rapidly when Javier takes his first taste. It feels like the first time he’s ever done this, though it’s really old news by this point. Recently you thought Javier’s existence is limited to one place and one place alone, and that is in between your legs, based on how much he loves spending time down there—whether he’s snug inside you or eating you out.

“Watch how gorgeous you are when you come on my tongue,” you hear Javier’s voice, lustful and dark.

“Presumptuous, aren’t we?”

You laugh a little, but it quickly fades when you feel two digits moving slowly in and out of you, a tongue collecting the slick gathered in your most sensitive spot. His nose nudges your clit, his whole mouth is seemingly buried in your pussy, and all you can do is moan helplessly, let one of your hands grab a handful of his hair and keep your eyes locked on the way your body curves and aches at his mercy. God, he’s so needy, so eager to please you and to give you orgasms; almost like this is his purpose in this world.

“Does it feel good?” you hear his husky voice.

His fingers feel like they’re splitting you open while you nearly fall apart in his mouth, and at the same time it’s not enough. It drives you insane.

You nod frantically, locked in the same trance of watching yourself getting ate out by Javier.

“With words, señorita.”

Oh fuck. You hadn’t expected that, certainly not the reaction it triggers out of you.

“Yes,” you exhale. “It feels so, so good, Javi.”

“Good. Touch yourself.”

Though your mind is in a haze, you’re able to follow his instruction. Your hand bolts to your clit, rubbing in circling motions. That, paired with his fingers pumping in and out of you and his mouth like a hot furnace devouring your pussy, it doesn’t take that much longer to get you to where you desperately need. Seeing you like this, being able to make you feel this way, it’s all getting to Javier too; he’s gotten so hard by this point it’s borderline masochistic how much pain he’s voluntarily taking in, so he unconsciously starts to rub against the edge of the bed. The friction is so good, but nowhere near enough. It’ll have to do for now, he thinks. He needs to get you off first.

A moan is harshly ripped from the back of your throat, your legs jerk and nearly trap Javier between them as pleasure jolts throughout your body. It’s electric, overwhelming, and simply unmatched. It’s too much all at once, to look in the mirror and see how painfully needy you are for this man, how beautifully fucked out you look in at this very moment. You notice his hips, desperately humping the bed, unbeknownst even to himself.

Javier pulls out his fingers, only his tongue remaining on your overly sensitive area, the strokes of it now gentler. You tug on his hair to make him attentive, and when he looks up, you see his face contorted in a mixture of delight, pleasure and neediness. And just like that, your body aches again, only this time for something more.

“Ah fuck,” Javier groans in his fast attempt to dispose of his clothes. “Didn’t notice I was—“

He sighs right as you smile, taking in the sight of a naked Javier, all in broad daylight for you to savor. He’s so hard now it almost pains you, so when you make a motion to get to him and stroke him, Javier nearly swats your hand away.

“Why not?” you ask with a pout.

“Because it’s gonna be a fucking miracle if I last more than a few seconds and I wanna be inside you when we come.”

You raise your brows. “We?”

“What did I tell you in the beginning that you’ll always have from me?”

“At least two orgasms.”

“I live up to my words.”

He’s wrapped the condom around his cock, now crawling in between your legs, the place he has claimed as his own and by far the most incredible place he’s ever resided in. He’s done this plenty of times before now, it’s nothing new; and yet, this very moment which reeks of anticipation and desire, this single moment in time when his hand is curled around his cock, guiding himself to your already soaked entrance, Javier wishes he could freeze it, keep it to himself forever.

When he slides right at home, deep inside you, you both moan in tandem. And it is the most damnable, beguiling and intoxicating sensation he’s ever known.

Probably because you’re not just another girl passing through his life and his bed. You’re not another random face or a number to the list of women he’s been with.

You’re the woman he loves, the woman he’d take a bullet for if he had to, the woman he’d move mountains for.

“Javi?”

You have this ability to bring him back with his feet to the ground whenever he tends to wander off, and Javier is nothing if not grateful for it, particularly now.

“Can you move? Please?” you plead and it’s so sweet he could come just from that.

Javier chuckles, the sound resembling that of a madman—and he supposes he is one, in a sense.

“Keep lookin’,” he instructs, a little bit of his Texan roots slipping in his tone as he starts to roll his hips. “Want you to watch how good you take me. How—beautiful you are when you take me.”

The grip you have over his shoulders tightens as his hips pick up a moderate pace, pounding into you with a mixture of greed and love. The more he sinks into you, whispering sweet nothings and giving the occasional order, the more you feel pressure building inside your belly. You do as he says, watching your body writhing beneath his in the mirror, and you shudder. His back covers a lot of the frame, so you mostly notice him from behind, pounding into you, and your nearly limp body underneath, taking him as he is giving himself to you.

The sensation of having him atop of you is stellar, something almost like it was meant for you and you alone; Javier’s stealing the occasional kiss from you, his hips more erratic with each additional thrust and his mouth whispering that he’s so close, so fucking close.

“D’you see?” he manages to get out through a wicked smile. “See how—how fuckin’ good you look hmm?”

“Yes—yes, I see it—“

“Mhm—good girl. My good fuckin’ girl.”

Javier loses any train of thought, be it rational or not, and when his orgasm finally hits, it’s all too much and too sudden, and when he can’t stop cussing or thrusting furiously into you, you cup his cheeks and tell him a simple “I love you”.

And he lets go, almost violently.

He’s struggling to catch his breath when he feels you spasming around him, and there’s pride to be felt even when he’s dumbfounded that you came almost at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you make a face at him trying to regulate his breaths. “I was kinda hoping… I’d last longer.”

You kiss him sweetly, gently, still feeling him ache inside of you. “It’s the sexiest thing,” you murmur.

“Having the endurance of a teenage boy?”

“No, the idea that someone needs you this desperately they can’t hold themselves in one piece. I love that. And I love you.”

Javier pecks your lips. “I don’t think I’ll get used to you saying that.”

“You should.”

“I love you too.”

You stay snugged up like that for who knows how long, while the sun rays beam down on your naked bodies. And then it starts to get dark, and you’re on Javier’s lap, slowly riding him and kissing him, aiming for nothing in particular but intimacy.

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tags: @pedrostories @psychedelic-ink @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @casa-boiardi @fallenkitten @jenispunk

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pedrospatch · 1 year

Text

pains l a safe haven drabble

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: When Ellie has awful menstrual cramps, you come to the rescue.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. talk of menstrual cycles, cramps, our lil baby Ellie is in pain, Joel is kinda useless but we still love him, little fluffy moments here and there. domestic fluff.

word count: 2k

a/n: so this is just a little thing based on this request right here. i love the idea of writing little extra blurbs and drabbles for this universe now that i am further into the series. i hope you like this anon, and thank you for being patient with my slow snail ass! *this takes place somewhere between the events of chapters five and chapter six

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—fucking motherfucker!”

Ellie loudly gasps out the string of profanities, clutching at her stomach as she doubles over in what you can only imagine has to be a world of pain. She steadies herself by planting one of her tiny hands firmly on Stella’s rotund side, her facial features twisted in complete and utter agony. She sucks in a sharp deep breath, her eyes squeezing tightly shut as she leaned up against the pregnant mare for support.

Letting out a small sigh, you set your clipboard down and walk around Stella and over to Ellie’s side. “Alright, that’s it,” you say, placing a gentle hand on her lower back. “You’re going home right now, missy. Do you understand me?”

“I’m fucking fine,” the teenager insists through her gritted teeth. “They’re just fucking cramps. It’s not a big deal.”

“Ellie, look at you. You can hardly even stand up straight,” you tell her, the slightest hint of amusement lacing your tone. You give her back a soft, soothing rub, prompting her to exhale the breath she’d been holding. “I’m sorry, but I just can't let you work like this today. They’re clearly hurting you very badly.”

“I’ve never had cramps like this before,” Ellie admits to you. She feels the sensations in her pelvis subside and draws herself back up to her full height. Her gaze finds yours and she worriedly asks, “Do you think something’s wrong with me?”

You hum. “No, not necessarily. Symptoms of your cycle can differ from month to month. I wouldn’t be too alarmed, not unless you get awful cramps like these each time you get your cycle.” You peer at her in concern. You’d much rather step on a rusty nail barefoot than have to take Ellie to see Luke at the clinic, but if there was something going on, you would have no choice but to take her. “Be honest. Do they hurt you this bad every month?”

“No,” she replies, shaking her head. “Sometimes I don’t even get them at all.”

You let out a small sigh of relief. “Then I think you’re just having a little bad luck this month,” you state, patting her shoulder. “The best thing for you to do is go home, get off your feet and get some rest until they go away.”

Ellie frowns. “How can I even rest when it feels like someone’s fucking twisting my insides in their hands like they’re wringing out a wet mop?”

You can’t help but to chuckle a bit at her oddly specific, yet incredibly accurate analogy. As a woman, you understand just how bad the pain could be and you empathize with her. At least when you’d been her age, you had been in the QZ where you could use your ration cards for a pack of expired Midol. “Listen, I’ll tell you what—I have a few remedies up my sleeve that might help. Go on home and I’ll swing by in an hour once I get everything that I need. Do we have a deal?”

Ellie opens her mouth to protest, but another wave of pain causes her to yelp and double over again. “Alright, alright,” she chokes out. “We’ve got a deal. Just please fucking do something to help make this shit go away!”

Just like you had promised, an hour later, you find yourself knocking on Ellie and Joel’s front door. You’d made a couple of pit stops along the way, gathering the supplies that you needed into an old, floral printed canvas bag.

“Peach?” Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in complete surprise when he opens the door and sees you standing there on his front porch in broad daylight. He takes a quick look around and lowers his voice when he speaks again. “Uh, not that I ain’t happy to see you darlin’, but what are you doin’ here?” The corners of his mouth pull down into a frown and a worried look flashes in his eyes as he looks over you, making sure you’re okay. “Somethin’ happen? Is everythin’ alright?”

You smile up at him softly.

By now, you’d just about gotten used to him and his overprotective nature. “I’m fine, Joel,” you assure him. “I’m actually here to see Ellie.”

He grimaces. “She ain’t feelin’ too good—”

“I know.” You hold up the tote bag in your hand. “That’s exactly why I’m here to see her.”

Joel seems to be a bit puzzled, but he steps aside and allows you into the house. As soon as he shuts the door behind you, he catches your wrist and gently pulls you towards him, swiftly stealing a quick little kiss from you. “Hi baby,” he greets in a quiet murmur against your lips. “S’kinda nice gettin’ a little sugar from you durin’ the daytime,” he jokes lightly before he steals another.

You giggle and playfully swat at his chest. “Cut it out, Joel. I’m here because I’m on a very important mission,” you inform him, taking a step backwards. “I sent Ellie home from the stables a little while ago and I told her I’d come by with a couple of things that might help make her feel better. Where is she?”

“She’s in here. Follow me,” Joel beckons to you with his hand as he leads you down the long hallway and into the living room. He gestured with a jut of chin to Ellie, who is sprawled out on the couch on her stomach, her small face buried into one of the cushions. “I took the afternoon off from patrol today. Didn’t want her to be home alone while she’s in so much pain but I’m useless. I don’t know what to do or what I can give her to make it stop hurtin’.”

“You’re not useless Joel—”

“No, he’s right. He’s pretty fucking useless,” Ellie mumbles miserably, her voice muffled by the couch cushion.

You glance at Joel who tosses her an offended glare. “She doesn’t mean that, you know. She’s just in a lot of pain right now.” You touch his arm and offer him a small, sympathetic smile. “Do you mind if I borrow your kitchen for a few minutes to prepare what I brought?”

“‘Course not. C’mon, the kitchen's right across the way.” Taking advantage of the fact that Ellie’s face is still smushed into the couch, Joel takes your hand in his and starts leading you across the hallway into his kitchen. “What do you need, darlin’?”

“Do you have a tea kettle I can use?”

He shakes his head and drops your hand. “No, I don’t think we have one of those.”

“A normal pot will do, then,” you state, setting your bag down on the counter.

Joel nods and walks up beside you, opening one of the cabinets underneath the kitchen sink. He pulls out a dark blue pot and hands it to you. He watches as you fill it up with tap water from the kitchen faucet before carrying it over to the gas powered stove. After switching the stove on and getting a flame going, you set the pot down on top of it so the water could begin to warm up. You then reach into your bag and pull out a small plastic ziploc bag filled with loose tea leaves, dumping a few of them into the water before sealing the bag back up and setting it off to the side.

“What’s that?” he questions, curiously.

“Raspberry leaf tea. It’s good for a lot of things, but it does wonders for menstrual cramps,” you explain briefly. You dig into your bag once more and pull out the handmade heating pad that you’d sewn together yourself a while back. Noticing that Joel’s standing right next to the old microwave on the opposite end of the counter, you toss it over in his direction, quickly warning him, “Joel, think fast.”

He swiftly catches it in one of his hands. “The hell is this fuckin’ thing?”

You toss him a playful eye roll. “That’s a heating pad.”

Joel squeezes it between his fingers, making a face. “What’s in it?”

“Rice, flaxseed, and some lavender as well. It’ll help soothe her. Pop it into the microwave for a couple of minutes.”

He nods, doing as you’d instructed. “If you say so, peach.”

While the heating pad is warming up, you notice the water beginning to boil in the pot and start looking through his cabinets until you find a mug. You set it down and switch off the stove, asking him, “Do you have a hand strainer by any chance?”

“Yeah, think there’s one in that drawer right beside you.”

As you go about finishing preparing the tea, you feel Joel’s dark brown eyes glued to your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you meet his curious gaze and raise a questioning eyebrow at him. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’,” he replies, innocently. “Just can’t believe you’re doin’ all this for her.”

You laugh a little. “Of course—why wouldn’t I do this for Ellie?”

Joel says nothing. He can only smile at you.

“Okay,” you say as you finish pouring the tea through the strainer. You set the pot side and pick up the ceramic mug. “Grab the heating pad. Let’s go make little miss grumpy pants feel better.”

He chuckles and does as he is told, grabbing the heating pad out of the microwave before following you out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

“Okay, Ellie. I need you to sit up,” you announced, walking over to the couch.

She groans dramatically, but obeys. “I swear, if you making this fucking stop, I will never in my life complain about mucking out stalls ever again.”

“Here.” You hold out the mug to her. “You’re going to drink this.”

Ellie makes a disgusted face. “Ugh. I fucking hate tea.”

You pin her with a stern look. “What do you hate more—tea or pain?”

“Fine. Give it here,” she grumbles, carefully taking the tea in her hands. She blows on it for a minute to cool it down, then takes a couple of reluctant sips. She lets out a little disgusted noise, but says nothing about it.

As she leans back against the couch, you take the heating pad from Joel’s hands and place it over her pelvis.

Ellie groans out in relief. “Fuck, that feels incredible.”

You glance over at Joel, raising an eyebrow. “Eh? What did I tell you?”

“You’re amazin’,” he grins.

“You’re amazing,” Ellie mimics, teasing him with a smirk.

Joel’s smile fades. “Well, that tells me she’s feelin’ better already,” he grumbles, shaking his head.

You watch as she forces herself to drink the rest of her tea. Once she’s finished, you take the empty mug from her in one of your hands.

“Oh. I have one more thing that might help.” You reach into the breast pocket of your white blouse and produce a tiny, square shaped object wrapped in foil. “I know it always makes Dina feel better when she’s having a rough time with her monthly bill.”

Ellie unwraps it, her eyes going wide. “No way! Is this chocolate?” She eagerly bites into the corner of the piece, moaning. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

You pat her thigh. “Lay down and keep that heating pad on you. You’ll start to feel better in no time.”

“I already do,” she says, shooting you a grateful look. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, kid.” You smile and stand up, walking into the kitchen with the empty mug in hand.

Joel follows suit.

Setting the dish down into the sink, you gasp when you feel his arms wrap around you from behind. “Joel, Ellie is—”

“She ain’t gonna see,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against your neck.

You turn around in his arms.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. “For takin’ such good care of her. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Grinning, you tilt your head up for a kiss.

You don’t know what you’d do without them either.

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller series #joel miller story #pedro pascal characters #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller blurb #fic: ash #fic: a safe haven

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skyward-floored · 1 month

Text

Shatter

(Alternate title: Warriors Gets Jarred)

HAPPY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY @adrift-in-thyme!!!! I finally finished the fic I said I was going to write for you :3 I hope you like it, and I’m sorry once again for taking I don’t even know how many months to finish this XD

Ao3 link

————————————————————

“Ooooh, there’s something wrong about this place, I just know it.”

Time more than agreed with Wind’s anxious mutter, studying the trees at the side of the path. At first glance there was nothing strange with the forest they were all trekking through, but the longer they walked, the more nervous they all got. The forest was almost completely silent, no sound of squirrels in the underbrush, no birdsong in the trees. There was no life except for the foliage, and even that seemed strangely off, leaves more grey than green, flowers oddly dull.

Something seemed to hang in the very air, heavy and dark, and Time knew all of them had caught onto it, ears flicking, eyes darting towards shadows.

Something was wrong.

“Where did you say you think this great fairy was again?” Four asked in a quiet voice, and Hyrule hesitated, looking around the forest.

“There’s a magic source of some kind up ahead,” he said, but his voice was uncertain. “But these woods... they aren’t natural.”

“So something’s definitely up then,” Legend mumbled from his place on Twilight’s back. “Wonderful.”

“It’s not like we have any other options,” Sky quietly pointed out, gesturing with his arm that wasn’t in a sling. “It’s the hope of a Great Fairy through the unsettling woods or nothing.”

The rest of them murmured agreement, and Time looked back at all the heroes, worn down from a series of long fights, almost everyone injured without any supplies left to heal them. Legend was the worst off, a deep wound in his side and a concussion to boot, but they were all weary and in need of healing, broken arms and twisted ankles, bruises and cuts galore.

But they were in an in-between time period, one none of them recognized. They’d come across no towns or anywhere else where they could buy supplies, just monsters and wilderness, empty forests and fields.

So it was the Great Fairy or nothing.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves around them, and Time wasn’t the only one who stiffened, his ears twitching. Something like a laugh drifted on the wind, but it faded before he could pinpoint it.

He saw Warriors swallow next to him, and Wind rub anxiously at the dark bruise on his cheek.

“...Come on. This way,” Time said finally, able to sense the same magic Hyrule was following, and they all trailed after him, walking closer together then they had been previously.

It wasn’t long before the top of a structure poked through the trees, and Time steered towards it, following an overgrown, barely-there path. An old temple-like building rose up from the trees, thick vines clawing at dark stone, and they all paused to look up at it.

“This is it,” Time confirmed. Hyrule silently nodded in agreement.

They all exchanged looks, but nobody spoke further, and they all trailed inside.

Time relaxed just a bit at the familiar brush of fairy magic that drifted faintly around them, but he realized quickly that there weren’t any fairies inside, the space oddly dark. The Links looked around, studying dark stone and broken windows, and Time walked towards the pool of water on the far side of the room.

His steps were loud on the stones, and Time studied the pool uneasily, the water inside dull and dark.

Strangely dark.

“...This is really a fairy fountain?” Wind asked as they all gathered in the middle of the area, and Wild limped over to the pool, setting a foot near the water.

“I mean... it kinda looks like one,” Wild said, leaning out over the water. “Just... weird.”

“Careful Champion,” Warriors cautioned, slowly moving to stand beside him. “Something here isn’t...”

“Oh, some Heroes have come to visit, have they?”

All of them froze at the echoing voice, strangely harsh to their ears. Hyrule flinched and Warriors stiffened, but Time barely noticed, gaze focused on the pool.

The water was rippling, bubbles appearing on its surface.

“Seems they’ve come seeking help,” the voice continued, tittering when they all took a step back. “Oh, even injured they’re strapping specimens indeed...”

“Ew,” Legend muttered.

The voice laughed, and Time stepped forward, ignoring his unease. “We’ve come in need of healing,” he spoke in a level voice, and the voice went silent a moment. Time was sure he could feel eyes on them all.

“Healing, hmm... I don’t know. You all look so dashing with blood on you...”

“This doesn’t feel right,” Four whispered as the voice hummed. Time nodded, still watching the water. Great Fairies could be on the... unsettling side, but not like this, and he could feel the dark magic in the air now, thick and pungent, like an oily weight that sank into his skin.

Time set a hand on his sword.

“No. It’s not,” he said grimly.

“Does this magic feel familiar to anyone else?” Twilight whispered, a hand ghosting along his side where the Shadow’s axe had struck.

“Something’s wrong here,” Hyrule breathed behind them, hand still pressed to his chest. Time glanced at him and saw his eyes darting around the room, sweat beading on his brow. “Something’s really wrong here...”

“I think we need to leave,” Sky whispered.

The voice laughed like it had heard him, and they all went silent, watching the bubbling water.

“Leave? You just got here! Such fine heroes deserve a rest,” the voice almost purred, and Time‘s grip tightened on his sword. “Lovely specimens indeed... in fact...”

The water abruptly stilled, and the Links held their breath, every muscle in Time’s body alert and tensed.

“...I think I’ll keep you!”

The ground began to tremble under their feet, and Time felt the hair on his neck stand up, the water somehow growing darker as it bubbled again.

“Boys, get away from the—!”

A pale hand shot out of the water at the same time Warriors shoved Wild away, the hand closing around Warriors and pulling him under with a cry.

“Captain!” Twilight gasped as Time’s heart lurched, and they all ran to the water with their weapons drawn, Four helping Wild back to his feet.

The water had gone still again, but it was still frothy from the recent movement, and Time scanned its depths, looking frantically for any sign of Warriors below.

Nothing but dark water met him.

“I’m going to find him,” Sky said suddenly, marching forward as he pulled a necklace with a scale on it from under his shirt.

Time moved to stop him, prepared to argue that he couldn’t swim with a broken arm, but then the ground lurched under their feet. They were all knocked off-balance, and Twilight nearly dropped Legend with how harshly it shook. Time had to steady Wild, and they’d all barely regained their footing when something erupted from the pool, water splashing outwards and nearly soaking them as a laugh echoed around the room, unusually harsh and high-pitched.

Hyrule gasped and several of the others did along with him at the sight, horror rooting Time in place at the sight of what stood before them.

It was a Great Fairy, but wrong.

Her skin was ashen, her hair dull and lifeless, lacking any of the usual sparkle it should hold. Her dress was tattered, and the vines twirling around it and her body were dead and grey, like bleached bones of the plants that had once grown there. The only spot of color she sported were her eyes, and those barely counted, a sickly yellow and glowing with malice.

But worst of all was the sight of the large bottle she held possessively in her hand, long nails curled around the jar as she gently caressed it.

Warriors just barely visible inside with his hands pressed to the glass, soaking wet and looking absolutely terrified.

“Captain!” Sky gasped, and Time could only stare at Warriors for several moments, unable to tear his gaze away from the hero trapped inside of the glass.

Warriors met his eyes, his own unusually bright with fear, and all of a sudden Time was eleven again.

“Great fairy, we need your help. We can’t win this battle without you.”

Mask stood to the side as the captain knelt by the pool, the clash of weapons and screams of monsters and men coming from right outside. The squad they’d brought with them shifted uneasily as something howled, and Mask swallowed.

The Great Fairy was their last hope of victory here, and if she wasn’t willing to help them... it wouldn’t be pretty.

Right when he was about to grab the mask at his hip and see if he could do anything, the Great Fairy finally rose from her pool, leaning over the edge to smile at the captain.

“Of course I can help, little hero,” she laughed, bells in her voice. “...But not without a price. I trust you are willing?”

Something in her voice made Mask frown, but the Captain nodded without hesitation, determination on his face. The Great Fairy grinned at the confirmation, and leapt out of the water with a laugh and a twirl, soaking a few of the soldiers standing too close.

Then she snatched up the Captain, and dropped him into a bottle she pulled from thin air.

“Hey!” Mask shouted, but the Great Fairy waved a dismissive hand at him.

“It’s just until we’ve won,” she giggled, holding the bottle up so she could see the Captain better. He took a step back, eyes wide and uncertain. “Unless he’d like to stick around afterwards... but regardless, I need some help, and you’re just who I need.”

Her eyes glinted a bit.

“Let’s go, little hero. Show me how well you can swing that little sword of yours.”

The harsh laugh rang through the air again, and Time snapped back to the present as the Great Fairy gave the bottle in her hand a light shake.

Warriors looked ill.

“Let him go!” Wind shouted, tightly gripping his sword, but the Great Fairy only laughed again. “He’s not yours, let him out!”

“On the contrary little hero,” she smiled, unnatural and wide. “I caught him, so he’s mine. That’s how it works.”

“As a Great Fairy you should know that that’s not how it works,” Time said as he glared up at the corrupted fairy. “Release him.”

“No,” the fairy said plainly, and Warriors pressed his back to the glass as she held him up mere inches from her face. She smirked. “I haven’t had a toy this good-looking in a long time.”

Warriors lost what little color he had left, and Twilight chucked a boomerang at the fairy’s arm.

She flicked it out of the air with a tsk, the weapon clattering to the ground, and her gaze narrowed, the bit of red around her pupils seeming to grow.

“It’s not polite to attack your hostess.”

“Then release him!” Wild shouted, nocking an arrow and aiming it towards her. “None of us are staying with you, you creep!”

The Great Fairy looked at him, and sighed.

“Well then I suppose I have no choice.”

Dark magic glowed at her fingertips, and suddenly they were all scrambling for cover, most of them only dodging the burst of darkness she threw at them at the very last second.

“This must be the Shadow’s work,” Four wheezed as he ducked behind the same piece of stone Time had sheltered behind. “What else would be able to corrupt fairy magic like this?”

“It has his dirty fingerprints all over it,” Wild snarled from nearby, pulling out a stronger bow from his pouch.

“But how did he corrupt a great fairy?” Hyrule said in dismay, and Twilight yanked him out of the way of another harsh spray of dark magic.

“It doesn’t matter how he managed it, we need to get rid of it,” Time shouted over another harsh laugh. “And save Warriors.”

“How do we do that?!”

The Great fairy kept laughing, and the piece of wall they were hiding behind was suddenly destroyed, the Links scrambling away from the debris. The bottle was swung at them all as they scattered, and Warriors flew by in a blur of color.

Wild whirled around and shot off a round of arrows, several hitting their mark, but the corrupted fairy didn’t even seem to notice, still blasting magic and swinging her bottle.

Time ran forward with his blade raised, and the Great Fairy twirled out of his way. She laughed at his attempts to hit her, then slammed him backwards with the bottle she held.

Time managed to get his shield up, but he was still knocked to the ground, pain radiating up his arm where he’d taken the brunt of the hit.

He thought he heard a muffled cry from Warriors, but the bottle was swinging around too much for him to be sure. Wind covered him while he got to his feet, and Time joined the others as they tried to get close enough to the Great Fairy to actually fight her.

There was too much magic flying around though, dark bursts that made Time’s stomach roll when one exploded too close to him. Between the magic and the way the fairy swung the bottle Warriors was trapped in, nobody could get close enough to cause any real damage.

A larger ball of darkness formed in one of the Great Fairy’s hands, and everyone ran for cover again as more dark magic exploded through the room. Most of them ended up behind a larger chunk of stone, and Twilight slid down next to Time, Legend no longer on his back.

“This isn’t working,” Twilight growled, laughter ringing through the room. “Any suggestions?”

“I’d try the Master Sword, but I can’t get close enough,” Sky wheezed from nearby, his face worried and grim. “Her magic would doubtlessly help, but I don’t know how...”

“Oh! Light arrows!” Wind said with a gasp. He wiped some dust off his face, then began fishing in his pouch. “If it’s dark magic, then light arrows should help!”

“But will it hurt her?” Hyrule asked worriedly, and Time sighed.

“I don’t know, but we don’t really have a choice. Hopefully this will purify her. We can only hope for the best at this point, we don’t have the strength for a drawn-out battle.” He looked around at them all. “If anyone has long-range light magic or weapons, use it now.”

Warriors needs us.

Dark magic hit the stone they were sheltering behind, and the Links scattered again, several grabbing in their pouches.

Wind quickly took out his bow, and pulled back an arrow, the tip lighting up in gold. It grazed the fairy’s arm, and she shrieked, the sound so piercing Time and the others put their hands to their ears.

“It worked!”

“Keep it up!” Time shouted, getting his own bow out.

He shot a light arrow of his own at the Great Fairy, but she dodged, eyes flashing with anger.

“Insolent boys!” she screamed, blasting more magic outwards.

Her attacks came twice as fast as she avoided the light magic, but her aim was less precise in her anger. Time found himself dodging so much he only had time to shoot off a single light arrow before he had to move again to avoid all kinds of stray shots.

He caught sight of Legend tucked behind a piece of stone, still looking dizzy, but shooting some kind of light magic anyway. Hyrule was beside him also shooting arrows, and the Great Fairy grew more and more enraged, shooting magic and throwing her bottle around much more violently.

There was so much noise he couldn’t be sure, but Time could swear he heard Warriors cry out more than once, and his throat tightened with fear.

We need to get him out of there, now.

Time paused in his assault, slipping behind a piece of stone and waiting for the Great Fairy’s attention to be drawn to the other side of the room. Someone cried out, and Time ran forward and went to a knee as he carefully aimed.

He shot an arrow directly at the Great Fairy’s wrist, and as it pierced her flesh, Time felt some kind of magic snap, a protection he hadn’t realized was there.

The fairy shrieked as she clutched at her wrist, and the bottle with Warriors dropped from her grasp.

“Captain!”

Wind’s cry was cut off by the bottle shattering as it hit the ground, broken glass scattering like fallen stars across the dark stone. Time was already running, and he slid to his knees beside Warriors, heedless of the glass he was crouching in.

Blood ran down Warriors’ face from a cut on his temple, and he didn’t move when Time gave him a cautious shake. Dozens of cuts from the shattered glass trickled tiny lines of red across his skin, bruises already forming from his time in the bottle. Wind ran up seconds later, and the sailor’s face went pale as he looked at the captain.

“Warriors?!” he said frantically, but the captain didn’t react.

Time quickly checked Warriors’ breathing, relieved when he felt his chest going up and down. But his leg was at an odd angle, blood still weeping from various cuts all over him, and Time swallowed, taking in how truly battered Warriors was.

His mind fell back to the war again against his will, the Great Fairy fighting with the captain in her bottle. Some of the men had muffled laughs as she’d done some especially odd attacks, and Mask had snickered at a few of them as well, ignoring the flicker of unease that had still been bothering him. His laughter had died the moment the battle had ended though, and the Great Fairy had shaken the captain out of the bottle.

Link had barely been standing, and as soon as the Great Fairy had left he’d emptied his stomach into a bush. He was shaking so hard he could barely walk, and Mask had had to help him back to camp, supporting him as they walked.

But he couldn’t do anything to stop the shaking, couldn’t take away the look in his eyes.

The bruises and other injuries the captain had gotten from being knocked around in the bottle stayed with him for days, but the fear in his eyes had stuck with Time ever since.

That was the first time he’d realized that his big brother wasn’t as unshakable as he tried to appear.

Warriors groaned, and Time snapped back to the present, looking down as Warriors’ eyes flickered.

“Captain, can you hear me?” he asked urgently, placing his hand back on Warriors’ shoulder. He flinched at the touch, breath stuttering, and Time quickly removed his hand.

“Warriors?” Wind asked again, and Warriors opened his eyes a little more, looking dazed.

And scared.

“Link, we need to get you somewhere safe,” Time said, throwing his shield up to block a stray blast of darkness. And despite knowing the answer, he added, “Can you stand?”

Warriors breathed in shakily.

“I...” he croaked, voice barely a whisper. “N... dunno.”

He begin to faintly shiver, and Time breathed out, looking at the fight, then back to him. The other Links were doing their best to keep the Great Fairy’s attention away from the three of them, but he didn’t know how long it would last with how battered their group was.

They were all flagging.

“I’ll go help them,” Wind said, giving Warriors a fearful glance before looking back at the battle. “...Can you get him somewhere safe?”

“I will.”

Wind nodded and ran off, lighting up another light arrow to shoot as he rejoined the battle. Time turned his attention back to Warriors, and saw that his eyes had slid closed again, his expression tense as his breath softly wheezed.

“Captain. I’m going to help you up, we need to get you out of here,” Time said. Warriors didn’t reply, and Time carefully pulled him up, not entirely carrying him, but supporting almost all of his weight. Warriors stiffened at his touch, then began shivering harder. “It’ll only be for a moment, hold on.”

Time stood, keeping his shield at the ready as he began to get them as far away from the water as possible. The Great Fairy screeched in rage again as she was struck by another light arrow from Wind, and Time heard someone shout.

Twilight dodged his way over to Time and Warriors, blood smeared in his hair, and wordlessly covered them as they moved further away.

Warriors’s head hung forward, blood dripping from his face as his breath shuddered, and Time didn’t stop until they were safely behind the stonework, carefully lowering Warriors to the ground. He didn’t even know if the captain was awake any more, and Time’s heart pounded loudly in his ears.

“Warriors?” he asked, patting his cheek. “Hey, wake up.”

The captain twitched a little, and let out a full-body shudder as the Great Fairy yelled. His eyes stayed shut though, and Time knelt beside him, unsure of where to begin. They had no supplies apart from bandages, and he could only do so much with those.

“Captain,” he said in a cautious voice, but Warriors didn’t move. “Link, where are you most hurt?”

Warriors only gave a small shake of his head, faintly shivering. Twilight made his way over to them mere moments later, and he kneeled beside Warriors with a wide look in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Captain?”

Warriors swallowed again, and looked like he tried to raise his head, but couldn’t quite manage to, still shaking and bleeding. He choked on his next breath, and Twilight looked at Time as Warriors’ breathing picked up, rasping and trembling.

“Warriors,” Twilight said more gently, fingers twitching like he had to fight the urge to comfort him with touch. “It’s alright, the others are handling things.”

“We need to tend to your injuries,” Time added, pulling out the few bandages he had left. “Your head is bleeding quite a bit, as is the rest of you.”

Warriors swallowed thickly, and Time watched as he shook harder than the leaves on the Great Deku Tree did when the first spring winds blew in.

His mask had cracked, the one he easily slipped on in battle and stressful situations, hiding his true emotions behind it. Warriors was trying desperately to scrape it back together, but he’d been struck too hard this time. Being put in a bottle again had slashed open scars that had been hastily bandaged in the first place, and now there was no going back.

Not until the threat was gone, at least.

Warriors’s breath hitched, and Time looked at him, bloody and broken, flinching every time the Great Fairy made a sound. Time’s hand was resting near Warriors’s own, and Time reached out, gently twining his fingers with his brother’s.

“You’re safe, Link,” he said quietly, and when Warriors didn’t pull away, he put his other hand on top of his. “Me and Twilight are going to patch you up.”

We won’t let her touch you.

Warriors’s fingers shakily clutched back at Time’s, and Time nodded at him, pulling out his canteen to hopefully wash any glass out of his injuries. Twilight stayed close, his sword still held at the ready, and Time was already planning how to convince him to also be patched up as he cleaned Warriors’s cuts. He hadn’t missed the blood in his descendant’s hair.

Warriors pulled in a shaking breath as Time worked, swallowing as he wiped some blood from his face, fingers shaking. His eyes stayed closed, but Time knew he was awake with how he flinched and kept his face as neutral as possible. He didn’t really succeed in that regard, but he tried anyway.

His other hand stayed firmly in Time’s though, and even though it made his job harder, Time never let go.

Someone shouted nearby, much closer then before, and Time glanced up, frowning as the ground shook beneath them. He held tighter to Warriors, and then jumped as Twilight shouted in alarm.

Time whirled around, and saw a face that should have been beautiful leering mere feet away from them, eyes blazing.

Somehow the Great Fairy had gotten past the other heroes.

“You... are... MINE!” she screamed, voice somehow lyrical and ragged. She stretched a hand out, fingers like gnarled branches of an old, dead tree, and her eyes glinted with desire.

Warriors finally opened his eyes at her scream, and there was such an expression of terror on his face that Time felt something inside himself snap.

He clasped Warriors’s hand that was still in his, and drew on the strength of his gauntlets to bodily throw him out of the way, tossing him towards Twilight. He knew the rancher would catch him, and in the same movement, he grabbed his bow again, calling on the dregs of magic he had remaining.

With her initial target gone, the Great Fairy lunged for Time, dark magic swelling at her fingers. The shouts of the others rang in Time’s ears, but as he drew back a light arrow, he felt strangely calm, even as the sickly feeling of darkness began to reach him.

He was doing this for his big brother.

Time released the arrow at the same time the Great Fairy shot her magic, and the two met in the middle with a shear of pure energy.

It threw Time backwards, and as a scream louder than any of the others rang through the room, something else seemed to snap, thrumming in the very air around them.

Time painfully hit the ground, an oddly-colored smoke rising off of him, but he lurched to his feet anyway. There was an awful smell in his nose and mouth, and his head spun as he stumbled backwards.

Warriors.

Where was Warriors?

Time heard a muffled shout, and turned, lurching towards the smears of green and blue he could see nearby. His skin burned as he moved, muscles screaming as loud as the Great Fairy was, and Time dove forward and covered Warriors and Twilight’s heads.

All three of them closed their eyes against the wave of energy that suddenly rushed outward, rustling their hair and making Time flinch. It only made his body hurt more, but Time gritted his teeth and held on, covering as much of Warriors and Twilight as he possibly could.

Then it went deathly quiet.

Time felt his hands shaking as he waited a moment to be sure, then pulled back, gently releasing Warriors. He seemed no more worse for wear, and Time exhaled, relieved at the sight of both him and Twilight unhurt by the magic.

Twilight was staring at him with a wide-eyed look, but Time ignored it, and somehow got to a shaky knee so he could look around the room. He saw the other Links picking themselves up, wiping blood off injuries, helping others stand.

The water in the pool had stilled, and was now light and clear, faint sparkles drifting on the surface. The whole room seemed brighter now, less oppressively heavy, and Time could feel that the dark magic had been cleansed.

The Great Fairy was nowhere to be seen.

Wild let out a weary cheer from the other side of the room, then listed to the side, Wind barely catching him. They both toppled to the ground, giggling a bit hysterically, and Twilight faintly smiled when Time looked back at him. His descendant still looked worried, but he was just as relieved the fight was over.

Warriors stayed unmoving halfway on his lap, blood still trickling from his brow.

Time swallowed, feeling again every injury he himself had sustained, and he slid back to the floor, placing his hand over Warriors’s again.

His brother’s eyes flickered open, and Time gave him a small smile.

“She’s gone,” he rasped softly, and Warriors exhaled, the sound exhausted with relief. “We did it.”

“You mean you did it,” Twilight added, looking a little awestruck. “I don’t know how you threw the captain and then turned around and shot that arrow barely a second afterwards, but it was mighty impressive.”

“Practice,” Time said with a small smile that hurt to make, and helped Warriors sit up. Warriors held on a bit tighter for a minute, then let go, still trembling just a bit. Time studied him worriedly, but he was interrupted by Twilight fussing over his own wounds, pulling away with a hiss as he touched painful skin. The magic had burned him... more than a bit.

Everyone shuffled their way over to where Time and Twilight were, giving them and Warriors concerned looks. Everyone was at least as bad off as them though, and both Legend and Four were unconscious, so Time thought they were all being rather hypocritical.

A sudden chiming noise rang softly through the room, and the heroes all tensed as the water in the pool rippled. Time recognized it for what it meant, but he still watched in suspicion when a head rose slowly from the water, hair glimmering a soft pink.

Warriors stiffened beside him.

The great fairy’s eyes were clear and bright as she looked around at them all, though her face was lined with a deep sadness. The heroes watched her in silence, hands hovering near weapons, and she let out a heartbroken sigh.

“I’m terribly sorry dear heroes,” the she apologized in a whisper, keeping only her head poking out of the pool. “Such a great darkness fell over me... I was not myself. I see I have only made your situation more dire, and I cannot apologize enough.”

She closed her eyes, and the part of Time that was raised alongside the children of the forest grieved when he saw the shining tear that fell down her cheek.

“I owe you all a debt,” she whispered.

“Healing us might be nice,” Wild spoke up, and Twilight elbowed him.

The Great Fairy didn’t seem offended. “Of course, Hero of the Wilds. It is the least I can do.”

She lifted her hands out of the pool, and as water poured from between her fingers, it faded into gentle sparkles that drifted around the room. They floated around and settled across the hero’s injuries, sweeping them away with a touch like that of flower petals.

Hyrule leaned into them, looking grieved, but calm as the sparkles healed him. Legend watched them in silence when he awoke, as did Four and Twilight, and Wind had a thoughtful look on his face as they sealed a gash on his knee. Sky sighed in relief as they twirled up his broken arm, and Wild faintly smiled when the sparkles trickled up his side, healing whatever the cause of the blood all over his hip was.

Warriors tensed as they reached him, not moving an inch as the sparkles sank in around most of his body. Time kept his hand on his shoulder as they drifted past, and Wind slid up to his side as well, both of them watching as they grew thicker around the captain’s leg and forehead for a few moments. The tiny cuts on his skin were sealed, and the bruises faded until they could only barely be seen.

Time felt his own injuries get healed as well, a smell like honeysuckle and morning dew accompanying the light. They soothed the hurt in his chest from the magic recoil, healed the burns and eased the aches and pains he’d already had in addition.

He waved the sparkles away from his scarred eye once they finished, then turned to help Warriors stand, feeling much more relaxed.

The captain looked relaxed as well, oddly enough, though not as much as everyone else. He still watched the Great Fairy with suspicion, even though his trembling had stilled and his expression had settled back to usual.

And he stiffened again when the Great Fairy’s gaze landed on him once more.

She looked at him steadily, eyes shimmering with remorse, and bowed her head. “My deepest apologies, Hero of the Shattered Eras.”

Warriors nodded, and didn’t look her in the eye.

The Great Fairy waited a moment, as if she was hoping he would verbally respond, then turned her gaze away from him and swept it over the rest of the Links.

“Heroes across the ages, I again offer you my thanks for ridding me of the shadows,” she said, her gaze resting on Time as she spoke. “If you wish to remain here and rest, you are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish. The little wings should return with my release, and I’m sure some would be happy to accompany you.”

“Thank you,” Time said respectfully, and gave Warriors’s shoulder a squeeze. “But we should be moving on. I thank you for your gift of healing, and I’m glad we could be of service.”

The Great Fairy looked disappointed. But she nodded, and with one last grieved look at them all, slipped back into her pool, a few errant sparkles the only thing left behind.

Warriors drooped when it was evident she was truly gone, and Time wasn’t the only one who looked at him with worry. Nobody said anything about it out loud though, just stayed close, and told him they were glad he was okay. Wild thanked him profusely for pushing him out of the way, and Warriors waved him off with a painfully forced smile.

Wind merely leaned on his arm, and Warriors softly ruffled his hair, the sailor looking at him in relief.

They all turned to leave then, beyond ready to get away from the fountain. But a another soft chime caught their attention, making them look back.

A few sparkles were drifting on the edge of the pool, floating together into a vaguely cylindrical shape. The light swirled around, then flashed, before fading away to reveal a small, crystalline bottle, filled with a deep purple liquid.

Looking at it, Time felt oddly sad.

The Links all looked at the bottle with emotion varying from curiosity to suspicion, and Twilight was the one who finally stepped forward and knelt down to pick it up, his eyes going wide as he studied it closer.

“Great Fairy tears,” he said softly, lifting the bottle with great care.

“What do they do?” Four asked, and Twilight looked at the bottle in wonder.

“They heal any wound. And grant a brief blessing to whoever uses them, one that protects from any harm for a short while,” he said, and Legend whistled.

“I can think of some times that would’ve been handy.”

“No kidding,” Wild said with a small glance at Twilight.

“I suppose it’s another apology,” Sky said quietly, and Twilight hummed, about to place the bottle inside of his pack, then hesitated.

“...Do you want to carry it?” he asked, turning to Warriors. “I... have a feeling it was meant for you.”

Warriors shook his head, and looked away. “No. You can take it.”

Twilight didn’t press, and he nodded and gingerly put the bottle away. Everyone took that as the signal to begin making their way out of the restored fairy fountain, and one by one they stepped out into the sunshine.

Time squinted as the light reached his face, and he looked around at the forest they’d emerged into with wonder. It barely seemed like the same place they’d left earlier—it was like a spell had been broken, and life was returning to the plants and very earth around him. Time even heard a bird singing somewhere above their heads.

Everyone was looking around with content expressions, satisfied despite the tired way they held themselves. It was always good to see evil purged from the land. They’d done a good job today, rough as it had been.

Time looked behind him at where Warriors stood back from the others, still-damp hair shining in the rays of sunlight. Time wouldn’t have guessed anything had happened to him, except for the pallor of his skin, and the blood still staining his clothes.

Time moved closer and gently set an arm around his shoulders, light enough that the captain could pull back if he wished. He felt Warriors stiffen at the touch, but then he abruptly leaned into it, his eyes squeezing shut.

“You all right?” Time asked, soft enough to only be heard by Warriors.

“Yes,” Warriors whispered back, slowly breathing in, and then out. Time moved his arm from his shoulders, and turned to face him so he could see him better. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much use in the battle.”

Time felt a sharp prick of guilt, and swallowed. He could still see his brother’s terrified face, the franticness with which he slammed his hands against the bottle, the way he’d been unable to stop shaking after getting out.

How still he’d looked, surrounded by blood and shattered glass.

“It’s hardly your fault,” Time finally replied. “I’m so sorry we weren’t able to free you sooner.”

“You did what you could. I didn’t even know those bottles could break, that was impressive,” Warriors admitted, his expression unreadable. “The light arrows were a good idea. Thank... thank you,” he said in an even softer voice. His shoulders gave one quick shudder, and Time hated how it made him feel. “For getting me out of there.”

Time swallowed, and leaned forward, lightly setting his head against Warriors’s. ”You would do the same, big brother.”

Warriors gave him a hint of a smile, and Time held him just a little closer as they leaned against each other.

They would still need to have a proper discussion of everything, figure out how the Shadow had corrupted a Great Fairy, try to make sure Warriors wouldn’t just brush over this incident like he tended to do. Warriors would doubtlessly try to avoid it, but... the discussion could wait.

For now... Time just wanted to enjoy standing here in the sunshine. The battle won, the danger past.

Warriors closed his eyes, and Time drew him into a proper hug, Warriors letting out a shaky sigh as he let himself be held.

His brother alive and safe beside him.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu warriors #lu time #lu twilight #lu wind #lu chain #all the links #linked universe fanfic #fic #tw blood #tw injury #I feel like the Great fairy needs a warning but idk what it should be #maybe just tw great fairy haha #writing from the floor #there’s some little things I don’t love about this but it was killing me having it still unfinished #so I got it to the point where I was overall happy with it #so enjoy! ...please

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rainbowmilk · 9 months

Text

Don’t Forget Me II

I was not planning on writing another part, but I couldn’t help myself

Warning: Language (?)

Treech x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

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After the mayor finishes his speech, it only takes seconds before Peacekeepers grab you. They rip you and Treech apart, ignoring your shouts of protest. Treech tries to reach for your hand again, but the Peacekeepers yank him back, nearly knocking him over.

The soldiers marched you to the train station towards an old cargo car locked with a heavy padlock. As you stood in front of the train car, you nearly gagged. The stench was overwhelming. The cart smelled rotted and thick with manure. You doubt they’d even bothered to clean it. You desperately didn’t want to get in, but you had no choice.

One of the Peacekeepers took out a set of keys to unlock the train, and the rest started shoving you in. Treech acted quickly, lugging himself in and stretching his arm out to help you up. But it must’ve taken too long because a peacekeeper grabbed you by the back of the neck and tossed you onto the train. You barely managed to catch yourself.

Treech rushed to your side, pulling you up off the ground. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” he questioned as he cupped your face, eyes scanning you for injuries.

“I’m fine, just tired of being treated like a sack of flour.” You chuckled bitterly while rubbing your neck.

District Seven was one of the last districts to get picked up, so you didn’t have to spend nearly as long on the train as other districts. A thought that filled you with relief when you felt something crawling near your feet. You could vaguely see the outlines of the other tributes. Though none of them made much noise. You could almost believe you were alone.

As the train chugged along, you and Treech shuffled over to an empty corner, trying to get comfortable. He grabs your hand and plays with it gently, his fingers interlocking with yours. Something about the action brings tears to your eyes. You never considered your hands pretty, filled with callouses from hours of demanding work, but by the way, he holds them, they might as well be made of porcelain.

When you first spoke to Treech, you’d quite literally fallen for him. Despite being in the same class, you’d never directly spoken. He was always surrounded by his friends, his laugh filling up the room (not that you were paying attention). You mostly kept to yourself. Honestly, you don’t know what made him approach you that day, but you’re so grateful he did.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“What are you doing?” a small voice exclaimed up at you.

You jumped at the sudden noise and slipped from the branch you were perched on. You weren’t very high up, but the impact left you gasping for breath.

As you lay on the ground, your vision was blurred, but you could make out a boy peering down at you. His eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

After you regained your bearings, you grumbled, “Well, before you interrupted me, I was drawing.”

“Oh…Sorry,” the boy chuckled awkwardly. He fidgeted slightly before asking, “Can I see your drawing? I’m Treech, by the way. We go to school together…In case you don’t know who I am.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, you knew who Treech was. You lived across from each other and were in the same class. You decided not to mention that, hoping to spare yourself the embarrassment of him not noticing.

“I know who you are, and no, you can’t see,” you respond before climbing back up the tree.

You were going to continue sketching until you noticed he was still standing there looking oddly dejected. A wave of guilt hits you when you realize you may have come off as rude.

“Hey, sorry... I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll show you when I’m done if you want to join me,” you say before patting the branch.

Treech perked up at that, beaming up at you. You decide he looks much nicer when smiling. He climbed up the tree, plopping himself next to you. Neither of you talked after that. You continued to sketch, and he sat with you, swinging his legs back and forth.

Soon enough, it became routine that whenever you went to the tree, he’d be there waiting for you. You started talking at school as well. Slowly, he became a constant presence in your life. Now, years later, you can confidently say he’s your best friend.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The sound of the whistleblowing snapped you back to the present. You must be arriving at a station. The train screeched as it came to a halt. From the outside, you could hear the chains rattling as they were unlocked. The doors slid open, and the District One tributes were staring back at you. In what felt like seconds, they were hastily thrown into the cart, and the door was locked once again.

The journey to the Capitol couldn’t have taken much longer, but it felt like an eternity in the damp train. Eventually, you heard the familiar whistle, and the train slowed to a stop. The tributes started shuffling, but the minutes passed, and nothing happened. At least another ten minutes must’ve passed before you heard banging against the doorframe. The door was wrenched open, and a peacekeeper shouted, “All right, you lot, let’s move!”

The sudden influx of light was nearly blinding. You had to take a moment to adjust. Treech is one step ahead of you, already jumping down before offering you his arms. You allow him to take you by the waist and swing you down to the pavement.

You were grateful for Treech’s quick reaction as you watched the Peacekeepers get rougher the longer it took the remaining tributes to crawl out. You take a moment to look around under different circumstances, you’d be gawking at the architecture, but that all feels insignificant now. While looking around, you see a boy dressed in red talking to one of the tributes. He looks too clean to be a tribute but too skinny to be a Peacekeeper.

You didn’t get much time to ponder who he was because Peacekeepers began herding you and the rest of the tributes across the station to the main entrance. Where a truck that looked more like a cage on wheels awaited you.

The tribute who is missing part of his arm, tried to make a run for it, but he didn’t even make a few feet before he was dragged back. You hopped onto the cramped van, and Treech immediately guided you into one of the last open seats before positioning himself next to you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of red jump moments before the doors closed. To your surprise, it was the boy from the train station. A thick tension settled over the truck as you all stared him down. He hunched over, realizing his precarious situation. You turned your head to meet Treech’s eyes. Both of you amused at the boy's obvious discomfort.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?” said the boy from District 11 Reaper, if you remember correctly. How ironic, you can’t help but think.

You missed what the Capitol boy said, but it must've been something insulting because, in the blink of an eye, Reaper’s hands encircled the boy's throat and slammed him back. Reaper’s forearms pinned the other boy’s body against the bars. Trying to keep himself from being killed, the Capitol boy drove his knee up hard into Reaper’s crotch. You wanted to laugh, but you doubt that would’ve been received well.

He might kill you now.” The girl from District 11 coughed out. “He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven. They never found out who did it.”

“Shut it, Dill,” the boy growled.

“Who cares now?” said the girl fro—Dill.

“Let’s all kill him,” said another voice, “Can’t do nothing worse to us.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself bloodthirsty, but a part of you agreed, besides the Capitol boy brought it on himself. Several other tributes also murmured in agreement and took a step in. The way the boy went rigid with fear almost made you pity him.

Before anyone could do anything, the rainbow girl spoke up. “Not to us, maybe. You got family back home? Someone they could punish there?”

With that, all the anger was sucked out of you, replaced with a gaping hopelessness. The girl then stood up and wriggled through to place herself between all of you and the Capitol boy.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s my mentor. Supposed to help me. I might need him.”

“How come you get a mender?” Snapped a girl with short red hair. Glaring daggers into the Capitol boy. You couldn’t help but agree. Why did she get extra help?

“Mentor. You each get one,” he corrected.

“Where are they, then?” The redhead challenged. “Why didn’t they come?”

“Just not inspired, I guess,” the rainbow girl replied before winking at her mentor.

You turned to Treech again and dramatically rolled your eyes. The small smile that graced his face filled your chest with warmth. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so good-looking. You hated that one smile was all it took to make butterflies swarm your stomach.

The conversation lulled, and silence filled the truck as it drove down the winding roads. Suddenly, the truck lurched to a stop, jerking all of you forward. At that moment you were grateful you had nothing in your stomach because you’d surely have thrown it up.

A Peacekeeper came and opened the back door to the truck, but before anyone could climb out, the cage tipped and dumped you onto a slab of cold, damp cement. Not a slab, actually more like a chute, it was tilted at such an extreme angle that all of you began to slide immediately. You all traveled a good twenty feet before landing in a jumbled heap on the floor.

You gingerly untangled from the others before making your way over to Treech. Cringing at the groans from the tributes you accidentally crawled on top of.

You brushed his hair back and readjusted his hat, “Treech,” you whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, don't worry” he responded as he pulled you into his arms. You allow yourself to relax, nuzzling into his shoulder. Trying to calm down from the chaos of the day.

It isn’t until you hear a small giggle that you turn around and see two young girls pointing at the two of you. They watch you through metal bars, gawking. You pull away slightly, feeling oddly self-conscious. Treech seems to notice as well, looking equally uncomfortable.

Confused, you start to scan the area. Metal bars enclose you. To your left, there is a cluster of thin trees, and rocky sand lines the ground. Suddenly a nauseating realization hits you.

They’d put you in a fucking zoo.

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #treech tbosas #feedback appreciated #the hunger games #treech x reader #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #reaper ash

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x-bluefire-heart-x · 1 year

Text

First Date

So here is chapter two of Dating App. I hope you all enjoy it! Also feel free to let me know if there is anything you like to see in this series, it's a little less planned then my other ones. There will probably be little time skips and stuff.

Warnings: None. Just my attempt at cuteness, flirtation remarks.

Masterlist

Prompt List

Chapter One Chapter Seven

Chapter Three Chapter Eight

Chapter Four Chapter Nine

Chapter Five Chapter Ten

Chapter Six

Olivia couldn’t believe her eyes when she walked into Rafael’s office just after lunch, intending to update him on the case and ask for another search warrant. He was smiling, and…humming? Her look of shock slowly changed into a self-satisfied smirk, and her intention for that visit changed. Of course she would still ask for the warrant but teasing her friend was a little more important at the moment.

“Humming Rafael?” she asked shutting the door. “Something good happen already?” Rafael didn’t even bother to hide his happiness, Liv had already witnessed it. He did however sigh, deeply, already knowing what was to come from his friend.

“I may be going on a date tonight,” he nodded, trying to supress the glee in his voice but knowing that he failed when Liv smiled with the excitement of a teenager. He rolled his eyes as she took a seat across his desk.

“Well? Who, where when?” she gushed. “Rafi I need and want all the details.”

“Really Liv?” he asked already tired.

“Yes, I am invested,” she nodded. “I’m the one who made your profile.” Rafael lasted about five seconds before his excitement to tell his friend about the conversation he had last night won out.

“She’s a librarian, we’re meeting at Sunset at 7:30,” he started, pulling out his phone to show Liv your profile and the conversation.

You had sent him an adorable good morning message at around 9, when he was already in the office elbow deep in case files, telling him that you were looking forward to meeting him tonight. It had been, well, nice wasn’t the word for it. Having someone message him just to tell him good morning was something he didn’t think he would have and it made him unbelievably happy. He had sent back a response, teasing you that you had only just woken up before agreeing that he couldn’t wait for tonight either. Just before Liv had entered his office you had sent another quick message, it was a photo of you walking through the park in a coat with a scarf and beanie, your nose a little red. It was accompanied by a tease that this weather was perfect for a stroll. He may have saved that photo. It was adorable, and that had been why he was humming. Liv was scrolling through the conversation her smile growing before she switched to look at your profile, noting the age and sending Rafael a raised eyebrow.

“She’s very pretty Rafi and she seems like a lovely woman. And it looks like there are a few common interests which is good,” she nodded handing the phone back. “Conversation seemed to flow with plenty of banter which you definitely need. And she teases you. I already know I am going to like her. Plus you were humming, that if nothing else is an excellent sign.”

Rafael smiled softly, looking down at his phone feeling oddly shy. Olivia’s teasing look softened at the reaction. A part of him a little worried what would happen if this went good and the two of you met.

“You don’t think the age gap is too much?” he asked.

“Not at all, she’s 30, with a stable job,” Olivia assured him patting his arm. “I’ll want to know how the dinner tonight goes by the way. I’ll make sure nothing disrupts it. Now, the actual reason I came to annoy you.”

Rafael put away his phone, just knowing that the rest of his day was going to create more paperwork.

You stood in-front of the mirror staring at the fourth outfit you have tried on. You pouted, shifting to look at yourself from all angles. You shook your head, quickly removing the clothes and going to stare back at your wardrobe. You wanted to look nice, but not overly dressed up. You had stalked the Sunset’s Instagram account to get a feel for how people dressed there. It seemed like comfy fancy? If that was a thing.

You quickly checked the time, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw that you had plenty of time. You rifled through your dresses, finally settling on one when you checked how it fit in the mirror. It nicely showed your curves without clinging, the colour suiting your skin tone perfectly. You decided to pair it with a pair of your long boots with a small heel. You nodded happy with the look, as you fished out a coat and a scarf to finish the look before focusing on your makeup and hair. You decided on subtle make up, some light blush along the apples of your cheeks, a light brown for eyeshadow paired with a bit of black eyeliner to make the colours of your eyes really pop. You used a little lip balm to coat your lips. You left your hair down, allowing it to flow down your back in loose waves and curls, you pinned the sides up with a few wisps to frame your face. You nodded at your reflection as you looked yourself over once more, happy with your appearance. You grabbed your coat, scarf and purse before leaving, checking the time on your phone noting that you were still fine.

The trip to the Sunset was thankfully painless for New York traffic, getting you there about five minutes before the booking Rafael said he had made. Sitting in your car for a few minutes you took a few calming breathes, you were starting to feel nervous, it was like butterflies had woken up and decided to party. Your phone buzzed causing you to glance at it, you felt your stomach drop worrying for a moment that Rafael was cancelling on you.

“I’m here, waiting at our table, just ask for the booking under Rafael, I also hope it is alright that I ordered some wine,’ You grinned looking up towards the restaurant, he must have walked past you.

‘Just parking, will be there in a moment,’ you checked your reflection in the rearview mirror making sure nothing was out of place before getting out and heading to the restaurant.

‘Just parking, will be there in a moment,’ Rafael looked up from his phone as the server set down the two glasses of wine. He smiled his thanks, wiping his hands on the leg of his pants the nerves in his stomach building.

He fiddled with the silverware on the table before movement at the entrance caught his attention. His breathe caught as he took in the sight that filled his eyes. You walked behind the hostess, eyes down at your feet your teeth nibbling on your lower lip. You were breath taking. As the hostess neared the table Rafael found himself standing up, the noise causing you to finally lift your eyes. He noticed you pause for a half step, eyes taking him in before your lips slowly pulled back into a soft smile, cheeks flushing under the blush you wore.

“Here you are, a server will be with you soon to take your order,” the hostess smiled once before leaving the two of you alone.

“Hi,” you smiled at Rafael.

“Hi,” he said back taking a step forward. “Let me help you with your coat.”

“Well, you didn’t mention you were a gentleman Rafael,” you teased, a flutter in your chest as Rafael’s gentle smile changed, becoming a little cheeky as he moved behind you and helped remove your coat.

“I had to leave some things to be a surprise,” Rafael whispered, his breathe caused a light shiver to run through you. He had felt a similar reaction when you had spoken his name, it sounded just as lovely as he had imagined it would be.

“Well, mission accomplished,” you whispered back looking over your shoulder briefly at him.

The photos on his page really did not do him justice, he was unbelievably handsome. He wore a pair of black jeans with a button up, the top few buttons undone to relax the look, you never thought jeans could look that good but well, you were mistaken. Rafael smiled as he pulled your chair out for you, folding your coat and scarf over the back, you almost swooned at the action as you took a seat. No-one had ever pulled your chair out for you or helped you with your coat.

“Thank you for ordering the wine,” you added noting the glasses on the table as you fiddled with one of the rings on your fingers as you tried not to stare at Rafael taking his seat across from you, his shirt displaying the strength in his arms. Honestly, physically he was your exact type.

“Of course,” Rafael smiled, holding his glass up towards you. “I hope it is one you like.” You picked up your glass, lightly clinking it with Rafael’s smiling sweetly at him before taking a small sip, letting the wine sit on your tongue before swallowing.

“It’s delicious,” you grinned sitting it down again. “And I think it would go lovely with pasta.”

“Hm, well the Sunset does have a few pasta dishes on their menu,” Rafael suggested. “Were we toasting anything in particular?”

You had opened up the menu having been excited when Rafael informed you about the pasta dishes. You loved pasta, the thought of it making your mouth water, you saw that they had Carbonara dish and instantly knew that is what you would get, maybe with a side of their garlic bread. You glanced up at him a thrill going through you to see that he had been looking at you rather than the menu in-front of him. You met his eyes, the intensity of them causing that thrill to become a shock as you quickly broke eye contact to look back at the menu.

“Oh, um, I guess to first dates?” you asked hesitantly worrying for a moment that that might be a little childish.

“Cute,” Rafael grinned before you could open your mouth, you just knew if he hadn’t spoken you would have ended up rambling in an attempt to fix it.

You looked up at him, his chin resting on one of his hands as he looked at you. His green eyes bright with the light from the restaurant, a soft look in them that made you realise he was not teasing or mocking you. He seemed to be genuine with his statement. His grin had softened when you looked up at him, the look causing you to become a little shy but you refused to break eye contact. You tilted your head to the side slightly and smiled, a little shy around the edges as you put the menu down fingers tangling together as you twisted them.

“The pasta sounds good,” you tried to hide the slight tremor in your voice. “Would you like to share a side of garlic bread?”

Rafael felt himself melt, you were just adorable. You seemed to be able to hold your own when he teased you but apparently take the teasing tone away and simply state what he thought and maintain eye contact had you all flustered. It was a sight he wanted to see more of. He looked down to your hands, and blinked for a moment before lifting his head away from his hand. He decided to leave it for the moment not wanting you to spend the entire night flustered.

“The garlic bread here is fantastic, would be a crime to refuse to share a side of it,” Rafael smiled. “Do you know which pasta you would like?”

“I find you can never go wrong with a carbonara, and it would go fantastic with this wine,” you smiled bouncing back from the moment earlier, Rafael had to bite his tongue to refrain from commenting on it. Yet another thing he could mark that made you adorable, and something you both shared. A love of food. “I take it since you haven’t even opened your menu you already know what you will be getting?”

“I may, when I was here last there were two dishes I was having trouble deciding between. I figured I would use this opportunity to try the other one,” he answered.

“Ah, smart man,” you giggled reaching out to take another sip of wine.

“I try,” Rafael smirked.

The two of you were interrupted by the server coming over to take your order. Rafael ordered a steak with salad and chips as well as the garlic bread, he glanced at you with a raised eyebrow and motioned towards himself. You nodded, although a little confused before he ordered your carbonara dish, you smiled at the server as they left thanking them. You studied Rafael carefully for a moment, you had had people order for you in the past and hadn’t liked it, mainly because they hadn’t checked to see what you wanted before doing so but this man had asked what you wanted and had in a way asked if it was okay to order for you. It was odd. You kinda liked it? Before the silence could get awkward you decided to start the traditional part of any first date.

“So, I have been dying to know what you do for work,” you started leaning forward. “I have narrowed it down to two fields, journalism or some kind of law enforcement.”

“Why those two fields?” Rafael asked curious about your reasoning.

“Well, the way you phrased some of your messages and the people I have met in those fields always find basics questions to be important,” you pointed out. “So, was I close?”

“Yes actually. I’m an ADA, I work specifically for the Special Victims Unit of Manhattan,” he answered.

“Ah, that would definitely explain the long hours,” you said, smiling proud of yourself. “That must be difficult work, but rewarding in its own way.”

“It is definitely difficult and confronting at times but I love my job,” Rafael agreed. “Being able to help survivors is worth the long hours that come with the job.” Rafael took a sip of his wine. “The people I work with are also another rewarding part of the job but also difficult.”

“Oh, the detectives?” you asked. “You’re close?”

“We’re all rather close yes, the amount of time we spend together it would be surprising if we weren’t,” Rafael’s smile was a little ruefully. “Though I am closest to the Sergeant, she’s actually the one who got me to use the dating app.”

“Friends, always meddling,” you giggled. “My friends got me to download the app as well, after a night of cocktails though I hadn’t actually used it till yesterday.”

“Really?” Rafael was a little surprised.

“Yeah, I guess I forgot about it,” you nodded. “It was quiet yesterday so I was fiddling with my phone and came across it.”

“Well, I must say I am thankful for quiet days in the library,” Rafael grinned, he added a slight teasing tone to his voice, causing you to smile with flushed cheeks.

“Normally I wouldn’t agree but yes, in this instance, thank god for quiet libraries,” you said. “And I am thankful for meddling friends.”

“Hm, yes Liv is rather gleeful,” Rafael grumbled taking a sip of wine. You smothered your smile behind your own glass, you thought it was cute how he grumbled about his friend but the smile ruined it. “Do you enjoy working in the library?”

“Definitely,” you nodded putting your glass down. “I love books and I enjoy being able to help others find a love for them as well, especially children. Books are so important to a child’s growth, not just for the communication ability one gets from reading but to help their imagination grow. A persons imagination can lead to astounding things, without Da Vinci’s imagination we wouldn’t have all the gorgeous artworks, without Tolkien or Mary Shelley we wouldn’t have some of the most amazing worlds and pieces of literature. Mary Shelley is the mother of Sci-fi and Tolkien, well, without Tolkien others works wouldn’t have been influenced and – and I’m rambling.”

You felt your face heat as you looked down, twisting your ring. You always did this, going on a tangent when you got onto the topic of books and why they are important, a few people had commented rather negatively on it before. You were worried that you had over done it again. A hand covered yours stopping your fiddling. His hand squeezed yours gently.

“I was rather enjoying listening,” Rafael said softly, squeezing your hand again. “Your eyes lit up, please continue, if you want of course.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you smiled hoping it was convincing. Rafael tilted his head for a second before he smiled and removed his hand, you missed the warmth from it right away.

“Maybe later?” he asked, you nodded smile a little less forced at his easy nature.

“So, an ADA,” you started trying to move forward. “Was that always the job you wanted?”

“In a way, I was always a talker even as a kid,” Rafael answered. “It got me into trouble as much as it got me out of it. I grew up in the Bronx, and earned myself a scholarship to Harvard law school. At that stage I wasn’t sure what direction I wanted to go but eventually settled on Prosecutor after a summer internship.”

“So, you got into a bit of mischief then?” you asked lips quirking up.

“Just a little and it was harmless,” he responded. “Mostly.”

“Well, I might have to hear some of these mostly harmless tales one day,” you said without thinking what that might imply.

“Maybe one day I will share,” Rafael easily agreed, quietly happy even if you didn’t entirely realise what you implied. Your smile brightened at his response, which caused Rafael’s to soften and grow from the small upturn of his lips. “Did you always want to be a librarian?”

Before you could respond the server arrived with your meals, he placed them down in-front of you both with the garlic bread in the middle. He asked if he could get you a refill of your wine, as the two of you had nearly finished your glasses during your conversations while waiting for your meals to arrive, you were astonished to see how much time had passed. Rafael asked for a scotch instead causing you to raise your eyebrow teasingly. You chose to have another glass of the wine, knowing that it will pair well with the carbonara. Once your new drinks had been brought over along with some more water at your request, Rafael looked at you curious. You were confused for a moment before you remembered that he had asked you a question.

“Oh, well, not really funnily enough,” you answered. “I was working on my masters in Anthropology, I was planning on specialising in forensics but I changed it to focusing more generally on cultural changes in societies that was linked to literature. Once I completed that I spent a lot of time overseas mostly in England. I was helping with organising exchanges of some special works from Oxford, Cambridge, and the British Library to other libraries around the world, similarly to how the museums spare exhibitions. I got to know one of the librarians in London rather well and I helped with story time and setting up displays for ether specific authors or genes and just helping kids. And it just clicked that I wanted to do that. So, when I came back here, I looked at what I needed to become a librarian, completed the necessary masters and everything else.”

“So, you have two masters then?” Rafael asked. “That’s incredibly impressive.”

“Thank you,” you smiled bashfully. “My parents think it was a little foolish but I enjoy my work so.” You shrugged lightly, not really wanting to get in to that particular issue especially on a first date. “And on another note. Scotch.”

“Ah yes,” Rafael laughed. “I do believe you were going to correct me regarding a connection between my favourite drink and my suits.”

“Yes I was,” you grinned, picking up your fork to taste some of your dish. Your eyes widened as an involuntary moan left your lips, Rafael paused with a mouthful of steak on his fork at the noise. His felt a very different flare of emotion then what he had been feeling all night, and a heat started building. “Oh my god this is so good!” You looked at Rafael to see him staring at you with a burning in his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing at all,” Rafael muttered trying to stifle the heat. “Do you like it?”

“Definitely!” you smiled widely still ignorant of how your reaction had affected Rafael. “You?” Rafael looked down at the mouthful still waiting on his fork, quickly eating it to distract himself and so he could give you an accurate answer.

“It’s good, cooked exactly how I like it,” Rafael nodded. “So, please Miss Librarian, inform me.”

“Well, Mr Lawyer, scotch is usually seen in movies and shows being drunk by rich man in suits,” you started. “This creates an idea that scotch is a rich, fancy suits kind of drink. And whether they like it or not people that fit that description or those who want people to think they are like the people seen in movies and shows will drink it. Fancy suits, scotch.”

“I stand corrected,” he grinned. “Was that your opinion as an anthropologist?”

“A little bit maybe,” you nodded. “So, do you actually like scotch?”

“I do actually,” Rafael raised his glass taking a sip. “There can be different tastes depending on the barrels they use. I rather enjoy the ones that are meant to have a 100 flavours hidden in it. This one has hints of berries, it’s rather nice.”

“Berries?” you asked raising an eyebrow looking at the amber liquid. Rafael saw your curiosity and decided to take a risk, a rather small risk true but a risk none the less.

“Would you like to try it?” he asked. You looked up at him eyes a little wide before they seemed to soften greatly.

“Yes, please,” you grinned, reaching across to take the glass he had offered to take a small sip of it.

“Let it sit on your tongue for a moment before you swallow,” he suggested. “Allows you to fully taste it.”

You did as he instructed, allowing it sit on your tongue before you swallowed and just as he said you got a hint of berries in the aftertaste as a pleasant heat followed the scotch down. You passed the glass back licking your lips a little as you did.

“That was nice, the berry taste is pleasant,” you said.

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Rafael grinned, as he tucked into his meal.

You happily did the same allowing the conversation to lull and become about how the day was for the both of you. You normally found the small talk type of conversation to be awkward and feel forced but with Rafael it felt comfortable, you felt comfortable around him. He put you at ease, focusing his attention only on you and it was intense. You hoped he had was having a similar experience, you found yourself not wanting the night to end as the evening moved along. The server coming with dessert menus and asking if either of you wanted another drink. You declined another drink still having some of your wine left and knowing that a cocktail would push you over the legal limit, Rafael ordered another scotch.

“Would you like to share a dessert?” you asked looking over the options but not feeling like you could eat one of them on your own and you were hoping that he would be interested.

“What would you like to get?” Rafael asked looking over the options as well. “You can pick, since I chose the wine.”

“You sure? What if I pick something horrible?” you teased. “You’re giving me a lot of power here Rafael.”

“Well, I was going to say that I trust in your judgement and taste but now I am a little worried,” he chuckled. “Perhaps I should take that power back.”

“Nope, too late sorry you already gave me that power,” you wagged your finger at him. “I was thinking of maybe trying the crème brulee.”

“Delicious, seems I was not wrong to grant you that power then,” he smirked. You giggled shaking you head as the server came over.

“Have you decided on dessert?”

“Yes, please, we would like a crème brulee, please,” you smiled up at the server, all happy and giddy from the night. “With two spoons, please.”

“Of course, that will be out shortly,” he nodded writing down your order and heading off.

The conversation between you and Rafael continued to flow pleasantly. You spent a lot of the evening flushed beneath your blush from the attention that Rafael gave you, his eyes always intent and focused on you when you spoke, never once seeming to grow bored of listening to you. Whenever Rafael spoke you found yourself ensnared, he had a way with words that grabbed you and his eyes were so emotive. There was no question that you wanted to see him again, and unless you were misreading all the signs you doubted Rafael would be opposed to it.

Rafael insisted on paying the bill when it arrived, refusing to allow you to even split it. You bit your lip when his tone changed from teasing to serious and, almost commanding, it stirred something in you. You relented and thanked him, telling yourself that you would insist on paying next time. The thought making you giddy. As he helped you into your coat his fingers lightly traced the side of your neck and his hands trailed down your arms before he stepped aside and allowed you leave first. You had shivered at his contact and you swore you could feel a ghost touch trailing down your neck and your arms. The two of you paused outside the restaurant stepping to the side to ensure you weren’t in the way of others, you stood close together.

“I had a lovely night, Rafael,” you said your smile small and soft to match your voice as you looked up at him.

“As did I,” Rafael smiled, his hand in a pocket of his jacket. “I hope I am not being too forward but I would like to do this again, soon actually.”

“I would like that as well, maybe we could go for a walk through the park and grab a hot drink afterwards?” you suggested biting your lip.

“I think I can manage something like that for you,” Rafael grinned taking a little step closer as he pulled out his phone. “I was hoping you might give me your number? If you want of course, we can continue talking over the dating app.”

“Rafael, of course you can have my number, and here, you can put your number in my phone as well,” you smiled stopping him from rambling as you took his phone and handed him yours. “And how gracious of you, to manage the ordeal of a walk.” Rafael grinned crookedly as he took his phone back, looking down he couldn’t stop the huff of a laugh that left him seeing that you had put your contact name as ‘Miss Librarian’.

“Perhaps we could do that walk tomorrow around 12?” he asked, seeing you fiddle with your phone for a moment before putting it away.

“That works perfectly,” you smiled, rocking back and forth on your heels. “I um, parked over there.” You pointed towards the car park across the road.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Rafael offered holding out his arm for you take if you wanted. Again with the actions that are swoon worthy. You eagerly took his offer placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Again with being such a gentleman, Rafael,” you smiled placing your other hand on his arm taking the opportunity to be as close as you could.

Rafael almost preened when you accepted his offer, revelling in how close you got to him as the two of you made your way across the road. The scent of your perfume and just you surrounded Rafael, he was overjoyed that you wanted to see him again. That he had read the signs right during the night.

“This is me,” you said as you pulled the two of you to a stop beside your car slowly removing your hands from his arm. “I know I already said this but I really had a good time tonight with you Rafael and I am looking forward to tomorrow.”

“I truly did as well,” he agreed, reaching out to grasp your hand. He squeezed it lightly before raising it to place a kiss on your knuckles. You lips parted with a soft sigh as you met his burning green eyes, the heat in them had your heart pounding as a slow heat spread throughout your body. “Message me when you get home safe, will you?”

“Of course,” you whispered as he let go of your hand and stepping away. “How are you getting home?”

“I’ll order an uber,” he smiled, holding your door open as you unlocked it. “Good night, Miss Librarian.”

#writing #imagine #law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #fluff #law and order svu imagines #Femreader #rafael barba fluff #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x female reader

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 6 months

Text

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

I’m back!! RAAAAAAA! I feel like his chapter is a bit over the place but I enjoy it so 🤷🏻‍♀️. I was planing I. Releasing this today but fuck it, I’m on a roll why not. Not proofread.

Nothing really, mostly just relationship building and some foreshadowing.

Word count: 2k

Series Masterlist Series Playlist

Chapter 11: What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way

—

“How are you not freezing? I feel like I’m turning into a freaking icicle.” You asked, all but sitting on his lap as you curled into him, attempting to stop yourself from shivering too much.

“I’ve got thermals underneath my suit, it helps keep me warm.” He told you, rubbing his hand against your leg arm to help warm you up a bit.

“Ugh, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Well to be fair you don’t go out every night in this weather this late at night.” He said, making you huff, watching your breath leave your lips. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he watched your lower lip stuck out in that cute little pout he adored. His arm leaves its place on you as he goes to stand up on the ledge of the skyscraper. “I’ll be right back, make sure not to fall, yeah?” He joked.

“Wait-where are you going?!” You questioned, voice raising slightly as you watch him hope off the edge, not being met with an answer, instead only hearing the distant sound of an all too familiar “thiwp” of his webs being shot out. Bringing your knees up to your chest, head resting on top of them as you look out at the city’s skyline as you wait for him to return, finding the faint sound of Neuva York oddly calming, as if it was white noise. A nice distraction from the sound of your teeth chattering. For once, you weren’t completely petrified by the distance you were from ground level, though you weren’t really in a life or death experience at the moment so that did factor into it.

After a few more moments of silence you were finally able to pick up the faint sounds of his webs reemerging through the wind blowing through your ears, making you sit up a bit straighter as you peaked over the skyscraper, being cautious as to not get too close to the edge as you look for a flash of blue and red. Eventually spotting him once he was a bit closer, immediately noticing he had something curled under his armpit once he was close enough.

“Hope I didn’t take too long.” He spoke first as he landed a few feet away from you, pulling his webbing off the spire of the tower. Your eyes followed his movements before shifting to what he was holding with his other arm.

“What’s that?” You asked, raising a brow nodding to the bundle of what seems to be fluffy fabric.

“A blanket.” He started, unraveling it and shaking it out so it was at full size, before making his way over to where you were sitting, going to rest it over your shoulders. “You seemed like you needed it.” You ignored the wave of sudden warmth that fleshed your face, writing it off as the blanket warming you up rather than the gesture.

“Thank you, Spider-Man.” Mumbling softly, turning to looking forward, feeling suddenly shy as you cross your arms and tug on the edge of the blanket to wrap yourself up further. Miguel always thought it was cute when you were flustered.

“You don’t have to call me that all the time, it feels too formal.” He plopped down next to you, taking the end of the blanket closest to him from your grasp and gently tossing it over his own shoulders, scooting closer to you as he did so. You finally looked over to him, wide innocent eyes that made his heart melt. He wanted to swoop you away from this messed up town and take you somewhere safe where’d you both live out the rest of your days with just moments like this.

“What should I call you then?” You asked, he cleared his throat and tilted his head as he looked at you, feeling yourself grow meek under his gaze despite never having seen his eyes before. “Since we aren’t at a place where you feel comfortable telling me your name.” He shrugged, a hand coming up to run at the nape of his neck before replying.

“Just… spidey is fine.”

You nodded.

“Okay, spidey it is then.”

A silence fell over you both, your eyes finding their way back to the scenery of the hundreds of city lights against the black night sky. Your hands folded together as they rested on your lap, oblivious to the pair of eyes watching you rather than the night skyline.

No view could compare to you in Miguel’s mind, he could see heaven with his own two eyes and it would never compare to the sight of your smile. If time froze at this very moment, he’d be content for the rest of eternity. One day he’ll finally find the courage to tell you the truth about his double life. To tell you his name, his identity, how he’s been deceiving you for months now. He can’t imagine it going over smoothly. Ever since you kissed him at the Coney Island ferris wheel, the scenario had been played in his mind over and over, and every time it has, he couldn’t imagine it going over smoothly. Why would it? To find out your (despite him never officially asking) superhero boyfriend was secretly the same guy you’ve had a vendetta against due to his cold and rude attitude towards you since before you even knew his first name, he could see why it wouldn’t go over well with you.

“Hey spidey.” Your voice pulled Miguel out from his inner turmoil, letting out a light hum as he glanced over at you, a bit surprised when he wasn’t met with your eyes. You continued to look out as you continued. “I know it might be a little too early to be asking this… although I’m not sure if there’s an appropriate time to ask this,” you paused with a little chuckle, taking a moment to collect yourself. Taking a deep breath as you finally turn to face, feeling your body grow a bit anxious as you force the question out from your lips. “Do you ever…erm, plan on letting me know you…ya know… underneath the mask?”

Your question made his whole body tense up instantly, head moving over to look at you so quickly you think his neck would snap off making you panic, immediately attempting to back track.

“I’m sorry- I- had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to hear that-if you want to take me home-“

“No.” He cut your rambling off, taking you by some surprise.

“No?” You echoed back.

“No, actually this is a conversation that we need to have anyways.” He paused, shifting his body to face yours a bit better, taking in a deep breath as his larger hands go to grab your smaller ones. “Look, I’ve never… felt the way I feel about you before. You make me feel like more than some guy in a mask, you look past the suit, the fangs, the talons, the webs, and you don’t even know my name or my face, yet you treat me like I’m a human instead of some… mutant. It’s…nice.” He admits, taking you by surprise at his sudden honesty. “I know that, the second you know my identity, you’d be in ten times more danger than I’m already putting you in by even associating you with this.” He motioned to the costume. “I hope you understand why I’m so hesitant on the idea.” He paused, wanting to garner your reaction before continuing.

“I do.” You mumbled in a low tone, accompanied with a small nod. “This isn’t the part where you tell me we have to stop seeing each other right?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, the subtlest of wavers slipping through despite your best effort to keep your voice steady. You might haven’t been aware of it, but Miguel’s advance hearing picked up on it.

“No, it’s not.” He quickly stopped that thought in its tracks, his gentle grip becoming a tad bit firmer. “I like you a lot, and I’m going to do all I can within my power to keep you safe. I promise I won’t leave you in the dark forever.” Miguel dipped his head down a bit so he could look you better in the eye. “One day I’ll tell you who I am.” Even though I’m dreading it, because you’ll never see me the same again.

It seems his words of reassurance had worked, making the look of uncertainty being replaced with that soft smile that always gave him butterflies appear in his gut.

—

“How do you know for sure? She might just be some fling. A ‘hero’ like him probably has girls throwing themselves at him left and right, how are you sure he won’t replace her in a few weeks.”

“If I wasn’t certain I wouldn’t be coming to you with this sort of proposal, don’t take me for a fool.”

“A fool is a bit too kind of a description for my taste-“

“Do you want to help me squish this stupid spider or not?”

“…Alright. I’m in.”

“Wonderful.”

“Now help break me out of this stupid jail cell.”

“Already a step ahead of you.”

—

“Do you ever get tired of all of this?” The silence that had developed between you two after his last words came to an end once you finally piped up. Hoping he understood what you meant despite the minimal context. It seems that he understood, tilting his head a bit to the side as the lines around his eyes narrowed in thought.

“Honestly, yes sometimes.” He admits, turning to face the skyline once more as he ponders. “It can be exhausting at times… all the slander from the media, people hating me for no reason despite me never really giving them a reason, it can make it all feel like it’s not worth it.” He then paused, letting out a deep sigh as he tilts his head slightly. “But… then I see a little kid wearing my suit… or someone reunited with a loved one after I’ve saved them. It-it makes them all with it ya know?”

Despite not knowing the feeling, you still nodded. Your lips pressed into a thin line as you turned to look at him.

“Well, if it means anything… I’ll appreciate all you do. The city wouldn’t be where it’s at without you.” You always knew how to make his heart swell.

“I should probably take you home.”

—

Despite the fact it was well past the time you would usually go to bed, you couldn’t help but cling onto the last couple of minutes before your favorite spider had to escape through your window, knowing he planned on leaving by the way he leaned against the open window. Cold air nipping your ears as you tied your hair up for bed.

“Hey, um... Did I tell you I’m thinking about going to Germany once I graduate before I start university.” You chipped up randomly, wanting to keep him in your dorm a bit longer when you saw him go to crouch under the window opening, watching him freeze through your mirror as he stopped and raised a brow under his mask at you. Nimble fingers fixing your scrunchie as you glanced back at him. “Then maybe take a train down to France.”

“Really? Germany and France?” He asked, moving back to lean against the window stool. You responded with a nod and a “mhm” before continuing.

“Well, if I have the time, I'd like to go to a few other spots but it really depends on how I feel, ya know?” It was his turn to nod.

“And what am I going to do while you’re gone, hmm?” He teased, making you thank the lord that the darkness in your room helped cover your flushed cheeks. Your daze drops down to your hands as you lightly tap on your wooden countertop. “That’s at least a few weeks of a trip.

“Well… I mean, you can always come with me.” You jokingly suggested with a smile.

“I might just have to take you up on that offer.” Was the last thing he said before you heard the window shut behind you, and a muffled thiwp.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix @reader-1290 @laysmt (to be added click here)

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #love me or hate me fanfic #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel x reader #academic rivals au #atsv miguel #miguel ohara

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monstersandmaw · 1 year

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Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader (nsfw) - Part Eleven - Final.

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Thank you to everyone who’s let me know how much they’ve enjoyed this ‘not-technically-a-yautja-but-basically-feral-predator’ story - I’m sorry it took me five months to give you the final closing chapter. Your support means more than you’ll ever know, and I hope you enjoy this ‘rounding off’ of things.

Content: after their somewhat emotional reunion, Big Red guides the reader into his ship and takes care of them, in more ways than one... There’s talk of bonding, non penetrative shower sex, messy alien cock/anatomy, and a lot of fluff. Wordcount: 2431

Catch up here:

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (nsfw), Part Seven (nsfw), Part Eight (sfw), Part Nine (sfw), Part Ten (sfw)

At the top of the ramp, you squinted your eyes a little against the relative brightness of the interior of Red’s ship, but you barely took in any of it as he guided you with his hand still at the small of your back through the corridors and doorways to his quarters near the bridge. By the time you halted, you were left with the vague impression of blinking lights, silver and black bulkheads and walls, and touch-screen panels alight with their runic alphabet.

Pausing beside the door to his quarters, Big Red used his clawed forefinger to tap a code into the panel on the bulkhead beside it and the door hissed sideways to reveal a spartan room that felt oddly familiar, though the room you’d slept in before had been rotated ninety degrees at the time, following his ship’s destructive crash-landing. You smiled and looked back at him as he entered behind you.

“There is a shower through that door,” he said, pointing at another panel in the wall. “Have you eaten yet?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I grabbed something on base before I left. If you don’t mind me using your stuff, I’ll go and freshen up?”

Red inclined his head.

Peeking inside the bathroom, you turned back to him and grinned. “You… want to join me?”

Big Red’s mandibles twitched, clenched, and a slow clicking started in his throat — not quite a growl, but close. He reached slowly up with one hand and removed the bone mask that covered his face, then crossed to a shelf near his relatively small bed. Watching from the doorway, you watched him set it down, take a deep, slow inhale, and then turn back to face you. You couldn’t help the smile when you saw his face again for the first time in so long.

“Oh you’re beautiful, Red,” you breathed. Tears choked you a little as you added, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he replied in a low, rough rumble, and stalked across the room to you. He rested his forehead against yours and placed his hands on your hips. Exhaling softly, he let his mandibles spread and you tipped your head up to kiss him again. His fingers tightened on your hips and you gasped as his claws just slightly pricked through the fabric of your clothes.

Slowly, he hooked his talons under your pullover and shirt and drew them up over your head. Then, he saw the bare expanse of your torso, another series of low, resonant clicks left him. The steady cadence resembled echolocation, though you knew that wasn’t one of their particular specialities. Whatever it meant, you felt each one like a starburst inside your chest, and you tipped your head to one side, exposing your neck to him. He let his taloned mandibles caress your pulse, his rough hands gliding gently across the bridge of your collarbones and over to your shoulders before he growled and pushed his pelvis against yours. His fingers tightened on your biceps and he pulled you close to him just as his mandibles twitched and tightened to a pinch on your throat. You gasped, and he captured the exhale, breathing it in.

His black tongue laved over your skin and you bucked weakly against him, sighing a curse and clutching at him. His hard, textured skin was cool against you, but you could hear his breathing picking up in that familiar, gentle wheezing, and saliva dripped from his mouth when he straightened up again.

“I want you,” he rasped. “Please… I…”

You nodded. “Let me shower first?”

He snarled, but forced himself to take a step back. “If I join you, I will not be able to… hold back.”

“Sure you will, Big Guy,” you laughed, though the idea was more than appealing anyway. You shucked off the rest of your clothes and then jutted your chin at him. “Come on. You too.”

Red shuddered visibly, but he obeyed.

His armoured loincloth came undone in a couple of clicks, and he abandoned it on the floor. It hit the metal with a clunk of leather and alloy and his taloned feet flexed briefly. Between his legs, where the mound was that concealed his sheath, you could see a glint of his slick pre-come already and you moved closer. His chest heaved, his shoulders rising and falling, and he clicked another warning at you, which you duly ignored. He knew what you were going to do, but instead of stopping you, he leaned back a fraction to allow it, shifting his great head and letting his hands fall passively to his sides.

You reached out slowly, giving him the opportunity to object properly, but he never did.

Mesmerised by his stunning red-oxide colouring as it faded across his ladder-like abdomen into a warm, rich, cream, you trailed your fingertips over each contour in his muscles, and he gave another shuddering purr in response. Further and further down his body, you traced the feel of him until your middle fingertip brushed against the slightly swollen mound between his legs. Red heaved and gave a snarling exhale, mandibles flaring wide, the delicate pink membrane stretching enticingly. His head tipped back and his chest began to work like bellows.

You took a final step closer to him and pressed your lips to his chest, then, in the same few heartbeats, you slipped your fingertip teasingly into the slick heat of his slit and he roared. Slick dripped down over your hand, drops of it hitting the smooth, cool floor, and he shook so hard you thought for a dizzying moment he was seizing. Then it stopped, and he picked you up under your arms and lifted you off the floor. In the same movement, he lowered his face to your neck and shoulder and bit you. It wasn’t hard, and it didn’t puncture the skin, but it was enough to make you cry out and jerk, spine arching back, body going taut.

Red walked you from the room and set you down in the shower stall at the back of the tiny en-suite bathroom and snarled at you. With one hand on your throat — so reminiscent of the first time he’d touched you and yet so utterly different — he used his right hand to turn the dials on the shower.

Perfectly hot water coursed down over both of you and he kissed you again, his hand going between your legs this time. He cupped you, teased you, mindful of his claws, and then he moved to knead the soft flesh of your arse-cheek in his rough, leathery hand. While he was still distracted in reaching around you, you rutted your pelvis against his and he gave another shrill, fluttering roar and bucked his hips in response. His cock was filling and sliding free of his sheath and he rutted it between your legs for a moment in the slick water before he turned you around like a marionette and pressed you against the shining, black walls of the stall.

With his feet braced behind you to stop you slipping, he slid his ridged cock between your cheeks and you felt the slickness of his pre-come against your skin. You could hear him purring and clicking softly in his own language; endearments about how good you felt and how gorgeous your body was and how he couldn’t wait to be inside you. Senseless, beautiful nonsense. Even though he wasn’t inside you in that moment, the intimacy of the position made your knees weak.

“God, Red, don’t let me fall,” you grunted.

In response, he reached his left arm under yours and played with your right nipple between finger and thumb, pinching and caressing in turn until you cried out again. You’d never been so tired and so turned on at the same time, and it was making you dizzy.

“Fuck,” you gasped, moving your right hand down your body to touch yourself while he let his ridged cock slide easily between your cheeks. You had to grab hold of his left forearm with your left hand just to keep yourself from sliding to your knees. It was like gripping a steel girder, though it was the colour of iron-oxide and you could feel all the muscles flexing beneath his hard skin. It wasn’t long before you were short of breath and closer than you’d expected to be in so little time.

Big Red let his solid, muscular arm slide down your torso to your waist then, where he held you in place again as he quickened the rhythm of his thrusts to something frantic. He snarled wordlessly in your ear, his taloned mandibles brushing against your skin, drool dripping down onto your shoulder and down your chest where the water carried it away. The slick sounds of his hips against you and the efforts of your own hand were only just audible over the water, but it was enough to spur you both on.

“Come for me, Red,” you gasped a minute or so later. Your spine arched, pushing you back onto his cock and just as you’d contemplated what it would be like if he slipped inside you at that angle, Red came with a yell. He grabbed your hip with his right hand, talons locking him there, and he came up your back with a roar that left your ear ringing.

His hips jerked erratically, and he would have flattened you to the cold shower wall if his left arm hadn’t still been around your middle. His claws hurt, but it was the perfect counterpoint to the mounting pleasure in your body, and as you felt your own release crashing over your body, you tipped your head back and let him hold you up. You came hard, and he nuzzled against you, his cock still giving weak spurts between you as he finished. As the blood sang in your ears, you felt your body go almost completely slack.

Red clicked and crooned gently, the sound reverberating oddly in your hazy mind as he purred softly against you.

Catching your breath, you turned a little in his arms and let the spray of water carry away his release from your back, then turned to look up at him. He shook his head with an apparently-universal ‘don't say a word’ expression, and tutted at you. He had warned you that he wouldn’t be able to help himself if you let him shower with you, after all. “I’m not complaining.”

You grinned at him, finished washing, and staggered out of the shower.

After using his towel, which he then used after you, you crossed to his bed, drew back the sheets, practically collapsed into it and curled up, and laid your head on the pillow. Sleep reached for you almost immediately, but you felt him stroke his hand over the crown of your head and you cracked your eyes open.

“Join me?” you mumbled.

“Soon,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to that, Big Guy.”

He purred at you and leaned down. His thick, waxy dreads fell all around your face in a dark curtain and you kissed the nearest one. Apparently they were sensitive enough that his breath caught and he clicked another thornless rebuke at you.

You laughed, and said, “Yeah, that’s a cheque my body can’t cash right now. Next time,” you snorted, mumbling sleepily as you got comfortable on his firm mattress.

Red purred again, slow and sub-sonic, and you sighed. “I won’t be too long,” he said. “Rest.”

When you next stirred, it was to the warmth of Big Red pressed all along your back, and with his heavy arm draped across your waist. Daylight washed in through a small porthole window in the ship’s hull beside you, lending a rosy, watercolour glow to the memories of the previous night and you stretched a little.

Exhaling a contented sigh, you rolled a little more onto your back and peered over your shoulder to find Big Red fast asleep on his side. It was sweet, endearing almost, to see such a powerful creature lost in the softness of a dreamless sleep, and for a while, you just watched him and listened to the pattern of his low, rasping in- and exhale.

Finally though, the temptation to touch overruled your desire to keep staring, and you freed your arm enough to reach out and run your finger along his soft, lax upper mandible. To your delight, it twitched a little, and then he inhaled, blinking his small, ember-red eyes open and purring openly at you. The sound was barely louder than a whisper, but it rippled across your skin and lit you up all over. Your breath caught and then came quick and shallow in your chest.

Red spread his fingers wide and skimmed his palm down your ribs, over your stomach and eventually down between your legs. When he found your body waking to his touch, he purred again and muttered something in his own language, the sound a series of clicks and gentle growls.

Love, he said, though the word ran deep as the ocean. Like their concept of friendship, that of ‘lover’ was equally complicated, but the word he had chosen was one you’d only heard in the context of mates and bonding.

You smiled, vision blurring a little as tears gathered on your lashes. “Red,” you whispered. “God, I wish… I wish I had a word for how I feel about you. What you just said… it’s… it’s how I feel for you, but I can’t…” you swallowed and he reached over with his mandibles and stroked your cheeks. The very tip of his black tongue gathered the tiny pearl of a teardrop that had begun to roll down your face as though it were a bead of nectar.

“I know,” he said, still speaking his mother tongue. “I can see it in the way you look at me. I can feel it,” he said, palming over you and making you buck slowly, your muscles tensing and releasing in a wave of pleasure. “I can smell it and taste it,” he went on, letting his tongue flicker across your lips and down to the hollow of your throat. “I know it,” he said. “You don't need a word for it when you gave me my name and took me as your mate. I know.”

“Red,” you gasped, angling your hips into his touch again. “Red, please…”

“Patience, love,” he purred. “Patience. And I’ll give you the universe.”

___

Hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for your support and patience! If you liked it, consider reblogging to say thank you.

As always, I look forward to your reactions to this one. Take care of yourselves.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Library/Story Archive Blog

#yautja #feral predator #feral predator inspired #yautja inspired #feral yautja #yautja x human #alien x human #gender neutral reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #yautja boyfriend #big red and croc

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kth1 · 2 years

Text

BR: Red Eyes (m) | KTH

Red Eyes [Taehyung x Reader]

⟶ Genre: Vampire Au | Smut | 18+ ⟶ WC: 20k+ ⟶ Warnings: slight sugar daddy taehyung, slight dom/sub themes, shower scene, soft massaging, featuring vamp!jin and vamp!jungkook, oral (f), fingering, biting, name-calling, descriptions of rough sex, blood warning, nipple play, creampie, semi aftercare, vamp blood can be used as a heal and could be a hallucinogen, etc ⟶ Summary: You begin to figure out that Taehyung is a man of his word. Slowly but surely you’re slipping further into the expanse of his expensive world. But are you willing to accept? ⟶ Beta: Thank you all for assisting me through this fic and pointing out the areas I need to work on. This has come a long way but I'm happy to get it out into the world! @amourtae @jeonjcngkook @caelesjjk ⟶ Author’s note: Surprise! Over a year and a half later after the release Black Ravens, I finally decided to dedicate myself to a series! I never stopped thinking about the what ifs with vampire Tae, especially the one I wrote. I hope people give love to this, I really do. If I forgot any warnings, please contact me.

Series Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ Masterlist

It’s dark beneath your eyelids, but you’re too lazy to open them.

Something — a distant noise of some sort — stirs you from your sleep.

The smell of burnt incense mixed with freshly turned earth fills your nostrils as you take in a heavy breath. Your head rolls to the side, landing on an even softer cool plush of — what feels like — a pillow crafted by the Gods themselves. It cradles your head delicately, like placing a newborn baby down in its crib for a sweet night.

Deep voices whisper about; hushed tones purposely low to avoid your ears. It all sounds faint, muffled from your hazy sleep-state. You couldn’t care less about what’s to be said. The bed you're residing in feels like it stretches for miles as it makes sure to hold you captive in its undeniable comfort anyways.

There’s no question how much your body is begging for rest; you can barely move to a new position without a strong ache protesting against your muscles. The comforter draped over your limp body is cool to the touch, a soft fur-like fabric cuddling every inch of your body. Thankfully, it hordes all your body heat underneath it.

But, who dares disturb your slumber at this time?

It’s hard to make out the words each voice speaks at first. Both are deep with respect, conducting a tune to your ears like a lullaby.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m positive.”

“She’s not going to be happy about her.”

You register the melodic tune of one of those voices. No doubt in your mind it sounds exactly like Taehyung. Oddly, with that knowledge of his presence you feel slightly more at ease. Ready to admit defeat to Mr. Sandman with no hesitation.

“Just… don’t worry about it. It’s my choice, not hers.”

There’s a pause between the two voices. It feels as if you caught yourself napping and missed out on the rest of their conversation. You beg your own body to get comfortable once again, clutching your arms needily around a nearby pillow as you hold it closer to your frame. The soreness of your muscles ache, body feeling beaten and ravaged. You feel the tightness of your neck and back grinding with the way you bend, objecting to any sudden or harsh movements.

The pain comes from the last thing you remember – being pinned down and clutched by a leeching vampire by the name of Taehyung.

A single palm comes resting against the top of your head, lengthy cool fingers pet away the stray hairs falling into your face. You feel frozen from the gesture, though the hand feels like it’s encouraging you.

With a voice that reaches straight to your bones, you hear the calming words, “Go back to sleep, kitten.”

You’re not positive when you fully come back to your senses. Blaming the sweltering heat rising from under the covers, you push off the fabrics piece by piece until only a thin sheet rests over your frame. The uncomfortable tightness in your lower abdomen constantly reminds you of an urgent need, begging for you to relieve the tension before it becomes too painful holding it in. Once your eyes flutter open, wiping away the hard crusts that formed, you begin to ponder your surroundings.

A burning fireplace sits at the far end of the room, crackling wood bends at the fire’s warmth. Ash gray walls surround you, hinted with intricate etchings on the baseboards and a collection of black and white paintings. A sheer black canopy falls loose off the top of the bed frame, draping down around the mattress of which you still lay.

Everything that you set your eyes upon just screams the word expensive.

You don’t recall a place as such, most definitely not your own room nor any from Black Ravens. As you start to search for answers, you twist your head to view a row of black blinds shut tight against a large window. Perhaps seeing outside would help, maybe you can recognize the area.

Slowly, you’re able to shift your body up the bed even though your pain argues against the actions. When your legs manage to hang off the side, seconds from your feet touching the darkened wood flooring, a soft noise startles you.

To your left, nearly blending in with the curtain of the bed, stares two copper eyes. The sound you hear is nothing but a soft meow from an observing cat batting its tail slowly. Its whiskers pucker as it sniffs the air just before it stands up, stretching its lengthy limbs and scooting itself off the covers. You watch the line of its path straight to the crack of a doorway as its paws pad softly against the flooring.

Through the opening crease, you notice the amenities of a bathroom. Instantly, it reminds you of how badly your body needs to be taken care of, and now with direction, you follow the innocent feline into the separate room.

You wince at the light that clicks on, blinding your sight momentarily and causing you to stumble into the side of the sink’s counter. You curse under your breath, hand covering your eyes until you bypass the cat which sits promptly up on a towel drawer until you find the seat of the toilet.

Surprisingly, you find that you aren’t wearing any underwear. Only an abnormally large plain shirt thrown on you, loose like a dress and drops low to accommodate your body and covering the important parts. You recognize it as one of Black Raven’s “cover up” shirts, mainly worn after a participant's clothes have been ruined. You hoist the fabric upon sitting down, ready to do your deed, until you lock eyes with the waiting cat.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me?” Your poor fragile voice sounds more hoarse than you anticipated. Your vocal cords strain roughly.

You huff to yourself, shaking your head a little at the ridiculousness of questioning the animal. But as if it understands you, it turns its head away from you as if you’re not good enough for its attention.

Your eyes scan down and disapprove of all the markings left on your legs, wounds all pinched shut and coating over with fresh layers of scabs. One bite mark looks particularly angry, it hurts to the touch. As you lift the fabric on your body higher, you notice more.

“Taehyung really went to town on me…” you mumble to yourself.

Bruises litter your hip, even a scratch mark rakes down your waist. If you weren’t so into the pleasurable state of sex, you’re sure all these blemishes would have been more painful. More noticeable.

Pieces of your memory mold back together the more you wake up. Finishing yourself with the toilet, you find yourself staring far too long into the lengthy mirror above the sink. You study the discolored markings, how drained your face looks as it stares back at you in the reflection. The liveliness of your body looks as dull as ever, these grotesque markings are no help at all thanks to Taehyung.

Well… you remember three were from his elusive coven mate, Jimin.

The clear glass of the shower door calls your attention in the background of your scenery. What you would give to shove your entire face under the showerhead and watch the water swirl down the drainage pipe. To have the hot water cascade across your cold skin and to be engulfed by the steam hovering your own body.

However, those blissful thoughts snap in two when the cat meows at you once again.

It stands proudly, jumping down and out the door. When it doesn’t feel your presence following suit, it calls to you again.

So the cat is leading you around now, is it?

It paces quickly to another door hidden from the view of the bed and begins scratching at the bottom edge of the frame. The poor thing must have been locked inside of here with no way out, you think.

Ignoring the pains pricking at your muscles, you step up to the door to twist the crystalline knob and open it just enough for the feline to step through. The crack is just enough to give you a view of a lengthy hallway, endlessly trailing to God knows where.

You close the door as silently as possible before rushing yourself back to the bathroom for that heavenly shower you desperately need. Collecting all the materials you may want to use, mainly a few towels to wash and dry your body that you found in a nearby closet, you briskly twist the shower’s nozzle and test the temperature of the running water.

“You’re awake,” a deep voice comes out from behind you.

It nearly causes you to jump forward into the glass shower door, but luckily you catch yourself from being too dramatic.

“I… uh –”

“– Good evening,” Taehyung smiles. His eyes trail your figure, watching the way you hold the towels closer to your body the moment you look back at him. “How are you feeling, kitten?”

You nod slowly while you take a more casual stance as you face him. His gorgeous hazel eyes melt you like butter sitting in the sun for too long, turning liquidy the longer you stare back into those crisp irises.

“Not going to speak?” He lifts an eyebrow as he takes a step inside the bathroom. His foot kicks the door closed behind him as he begins to shrug out of the denim jacket he wears. The fabric collides with the tile floor below as he continues his actions with other pieces of his clothing. “It’s quite alright. Take your time warming up to me.”

“A–Are you going to take a shower?” You blink at him, trying to process the reason why one by one his clothes are being thrown off his body. He doesn’t hesitate at all, minding you no business as all you can do is watch him as you stand there stunned.

“We are,” he tosses you a toothy grin.

The second his underwear slinks down his lengthy legs you immediately shoot your eyes up to the ceiling. As if you have never seen this man naked before and that you owe him the decency of privacy. Or maybe, you are just too terribly nervous with how fast paced and nonchalant the situation turned into.

“We?” You repeat with a higher tone than anticipated.

He chuckles softly, combing his fingers through his hair to push back those curly strands before looking at you. He hums in approval as he steps in front of you, hands coming to touch along your arms. You smell a whiff of his woodsy aroma, a scent you can never pinpoint, but it is the only smell you associate this vampire with.

Unique to him and him alone.

There’s amusement on his face as he looks over you, pulling your body closer to his until you’re pressed against his front.

“Is someone worked up?” He quizzes you as one hand comes down to clasp the hem of the massively oversized shirt you’re wearing. “I can hear your heart racing. I bet you can hear it too.”

He’s swift at pulling the towels away from your arms, and even quicker with pulling up the material of your shirt even when you protest a second too late. It is up and over your head before you realize it, clasping your arms across your chest and immediately burying yourself into his frame to hide any inch of yourself that you can.

“Tae!” You screech. All your muscles yell back at you with all of the sudden movements your body makes. “Wait, no. Please!”

He places his large hand on the side of your head, tilting your face to look at his. The other palm soothes over your back and down your spine, pressing you softly into him as the two of you stand there completely bare.

“There, there, kitten. You’re safe with me,” he grins as he turns your head, hooking his thumb under your jaw. His eyes trail over the marks on your body, humming to himself every time he spots a discoloration to your skin. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You have been out for a while and I haven’t been able to properly wash you.”

Lightly, he places a kiss on your temple.

“What do you mean I’ve ‘been out for a while’?”

You watch through the corner of your eyes at the way his free hand opens the glass door and reaches in to twist the nozzle. Water comes rushing out of the top of the area, replicating a waterfall from a cluster of rocks. Matching tiling from the floor compliments the earthy coloring of the walls. A few eucalyptus plants hang from one small section right above a built-in slab that serves as a seat or placement for shower products.

“You’ve been asleep for about a day and a half,” he admits.

Taehyung inhales deeply against your hairline, placing one last peck to your head before moving the two of you into this extravagant shower. Surprisingly, the water didn’t need time to warm up – instantly being the perfect temperature to heat up your cold body. He allows you to step under first, letting you rinse off. The more your body intakes the new found warmth the more it loosens up your muscles.

“Really?” You chirp back with astonishment, voice cracking angrily at the force. “Wait, it’s Sunday now?”

Before you can step away, Taehyung holds you in place with his hands. He joins you under the falling water, dipping his face under the rushing liquid before whipping it away.

“Really.”

“Where are all my things? I’m not supposed to be here. I had plans for… Oh, he’s going to ki –”

Taehyung hushes you, using his hands to knead into your arms and up to your shoulders. “Don’t worry. All of your belongings are with me. I took care of your absence by replying to your friend and letting them know you weren’t feeling well. Besides,” he grins when your body twists in pain from the massage he is giving you, “I did a number on you and I told you I’m going to take care of you.”

His hands are like corrupting black magic, wielding you like a puppet. You’re not sure what to blame between the ache in your muscles or tiredness you continue to feel, but the sorcery of twists and turns his fingertips do to you makes you thaw completely into his palms. Making you forget how important your plans are and falling head over heels for the tall vampire before you.

You’ll deal with the consequences of your failed plans later.

“Where does it hurt?” He speaks softly as he tests out areas of your back and neck.

You respond in the same tone, fluttering your eyes whenever he flicks over a taut muscle, “Everywhere.”

He pulls you forward along with him, taking the opportunity to sit himself down on the stone slab and you sideways on his lap. Taehyung is faster than you, as usual; his quick movements allow him to snatch a loofah and bar of soap all while pressing a button on the side of the wall. It changes the location and direction of waterflow. He grips a metal faucet that hooks off from the wall, twisting it from its hinge and dragging the spray of water to aim across you.

Taehyung analyzes each bite wound on your body as the spongy loofa glides over them. If it were any other time, you’d begin to feel a nervous tension between the oddly domesticated silence the two of you share – but for now you bask in the attention. Savoring every small caring detail he gives you.

“Is this your home?” You question as your eyes are trained to the tiles below.

“One of many,” he responds.

“It’s nice…” you trail off.

You feel shy with the way his lengthy fingers flutter over your skin with the soap, washing away the surface scuffs and leaving suds in its path. He hums a ‘thank you’, chuckling at the way he places his face closer to yours on purpose to make you show your bashful side.

He notices how you still hover your midriff, already given up on hiding your breasts by placing your arms and hands strategically over areas of your body you’re not ready to expose just yet. Taehyung gives you your space, even though he’s infiltrated the majority of it.

“I’ve arranged for one of my servants to gather you some basic necessities, but within the month you’ll be brought out to shop for whatever you’d like. I’d advise you to rest well until you fully recover, take your time adjusting.”

“You… you didn’t need to do that for me,” you twist your head to finally look at him.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way Taehyung looks, regardless of what setting or lighting he’s portrayed in. He always has been nothing but beautiful, drop dead gorgeous. But right now, he stares back at you with sincere eyes, wet curly locks that twist every which way, and beads of water trailing down the sides of his face. For a second, you completely forget about the conversation. Admiring only him and the glow of his perfectly sculpted features.

“What do you mean by ‘adjusting’?”

Slowly, your body starts leaning closer to the vampire. Your eyes are set on his parted lips, pretty and round. He allows you to inch closer, seeing how blindly you wish to kiss him.

“Your life,” his voice drops an octave. Even his Adam’s apple bobs with the way he speaks. He’s nothing but serious, eyes scanning down your face to your neck and collarbones. “You’re mine now. Your current life needs to change to be with me,” he grins.

“I… What? Tae, I can’t just do something so drastic like that,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “I have so much going on, you don’t have a single clue.”

“But I do,” he hushes you with a kiss. It catches you off guard with how warm his lips feel against yours. “I’ve known about you for a while now, kitten. Your records at Black Ravens only told me so much. I had to do some studying.” Taehyung’s hand sneaks up to the back of your neck, lightly tugging on your skull to tilt your head back. He takes the handheld showerhead to wash over your hair, damping it in preparation for shampoo and conditioner. “You’ll adjust well, I believe. I have everything you could ever need.”

“Tae…”

“I care for you, Y/n. I really do,” he soothes over his words with the trickling water. “I’m sorry for taking you in on such short notice, but I would have never left you bleeding out on a Black Raven’s bed. I want you to know I had nothing but true and good intentions while I took you back to the comfort of my home. I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable in any way,” he speaks with sincerity and kindness. Taehyung’s voice remains soft as if he’s speaking to a worried child. “Please know that I wanted nothing more than to keep you safe.”

Taehyung doesn’t allow you to process much further because he twists you in your place, making you face forward and away from him. He lathers up your hair delicately as you remain quiet; you try processing what all has been said to you as he rinses and repeats the action with his shower products.

There’s something in the back of your mind that concerns you, sends you a word of caution the more you ponder over everything you have going on with your life. Family, friends, working towards your career, classes, and beautiful memories. Did you really just wish yourself away from all of those by accepting Taehyung?

As if he can read the stress levels radiating off of your body, Taehyung speaks up. “We can talk more about it later,” he soothes, petting your head. “Relax with me. Tell me, are you in any pain from these?” He references the array of bite marks as his finger lightly trails across them.

You shake your head no, not worried about the small blemishes compared to how fatigue your body feels. It’s not the first time you have had multiple wounds like this on your body.

“I’m okay. Just tired,” your eyes flicker down to your lap. The mark between your thighs still emits a dull pain. “Well, there’s this one.”

You feel Taehyung’s chin rest on your shoulder, peering down from behind you to see where your fingers point to. They lightly prod at the nasty scab that sticks out, softened by the water of the shower.

“Would you let me fix it for you?”

You’re confused with what he’s asking you, questioning him with how on earth he plans to fix your wound. He snakes his hand over your thigh, prying it apart from the other to view the full blemish. Briskly, he removes the crusts that cover the openings and rips open a faint batch of blood. You flinch with the action, seething between your teeth.

“It’ll be fine. You won’t feel a thing in a few seconds,” he laughs.

Taehyung then pricks his thumb on one of his fangs, drawing his own scarlet blood. It drips lazily down his finger as you watch him with awe. He places it over the bite mark, and like a miracle, you watch before your eyes how the small puncture wounds on your leg seal together in seconds.

“What the – How? Where did it go?”

Your hand scoots past Taehyung’s to press into the soft flesh of your thigh. The mark disappeared completely before your eyes. Even the litter of marks around the area tend to fade with each passing second.

“Give it a little bit and your body will be healed up. It was only a little bit, but it will still do its job.”

“Tae,” you begin with a shake of your head. “Tae, where did the bite mark go?”

He sighs as he cages his arms around your frame, hugging you from behind.

“A vampire’s blood gives us various abilities… and is our life essence. Healing is one of many things it can do for a human.”

“Can it save people too?”

Taehyung’s fingers find yours before interlocking them together. He allows the water to cascade down on the two of you, holding another in an embrace of comfort.

“Depends on your definition of saving. It’s not a known existence to the world. Many people are unaware of the abilities of a vampire’s blood and we try to keep it that way for several reasons,” he licks his lips between words, “How are you feeling?”

You breathe as you absentmindedly take in the information while staring at the steam collected on the shower’s door. Yes, your muscles seem to have untensed faster than you think they would have without this magic blood. But you remain skeptical about it.

“I’m alright,” you state.

Taehyung makes a disgruntled noise beside you as his thumbs run circles on the tops of your hands. You’re unaware of the shift in his mood but you soon discover his eyes roaming back to a few marks in the junction of your neck.

“I’m afraid to give you more,” he huffs. His lips come dangerously close to your outer ear as he continues to talk to you. “Too much vampire blood and it can cause several different effects. Even a small dose can heighten your senses,” he smirks as goosebumps grow on your skin, “increase ones strength,” he whispers as he squeezes you tighter in his hold, “and can even make sexual experience a lot more… intense.”

You swallow hard at his words. Each delectable syllable tingles your eardrums. The way his hands slide over your skin heats you up even further without doing much at all. Your body feels good, very good, with what tiny bit of blood was given to you. Denying its influence to your body is a foolish thing to think about.

Taehyung finds amusement as he watches you battle with whichever thoughts flood your mind. You feel as if you’re in a cloud of nothingness – or is that just the visible steam fogging up around you to blame? Each bead of water heightens those sensations radiating in your body. Your heart beats faster with each ticking moment.

“I do warn you, each person gets affected differently. It also depends on the dosage. Many humans take it as a drug to see hallucinations and to feel something, to feel more. It’s powerful, but it eventually dies down. Becomes addictive. Even taken in a large dose… the human can metaphysically or spiritually bond with the vampire they drink from. The vampire community has kept the healing properties a secret so it wouldn’t encourage humans to hunt vampires for their blood.”

Turning your head, you’re met with a pair of beautifully crafted hazel eyes. They stare deep into yours, catching your gaze and begging for you to not break it. Penetrating you in your spot. When Taehyung hears no response from you, he pushes the topic further while his eyes trail down to your lips.

“I can trust you, can’t I?”

You part your lips to speak, though nothing comes out. You’re nearly mesmerized by how Taehyung looks. A deep cardinal desire picks at your brain as your eyes can over his features, admiring the beauty before you. You feel sweltering hot as if your skin is threatening to melt off your bones.

Blinking hazily at his face, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. You can’t describe exactly what you are feeling; it’s like you are drunk and high at the same time but with no negative effects. Your mouth runs dry, parched from how thirsty you’ve become in the matter of minutes.

“Y/n?” Taehyung’s smooth baritone voice flutters your heart as he speaks your name.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you mutter under your breath.

Your fingers press firmly to pull his head closer to yours. Lips seeking him with no questions asked, planting them securely against his. There’s an eagerness scratching in the back of your head. You fight to twist your body on his lap, grounded by the two strong palms now resting on either side of your hips.

“Are you aroused, my little kitten?”

His mouth hovers yours, mere centimeters away. The accusation stirs you, how guilty you suddenly feel. You want nothing more than to tangle your tongue with his at this very moment. Your breath shudders when you inhale; it feels as if you were catching your breath after running a marathon.

You don’t need to answer Taehyung, your actions speak louder than any word that can come out of your groggy throat. Fluttering your eyes shut, you pull him to reconnect his lips to yours. Your tongue stretches into his mouth, licking past his teeth and meeting his with a warm greeting.

He hums a small laugh, his smirk unable to hide his high spirits.

“Kitten, I don’t want to use this against you. I was only trying to heal you up. Plus, aren’t you exhausted…” Taehyung takes a hand and travels it toward the apex of your thighs, “Down here?”

His thumb toys with the idea of running it along the bend of your thigh, edging it closer towards your crotch. The sensation feels otherworldly, magical. Heighted to a new extreme as the water trickling down above you feels like you’re under a waterfall.

Each physical sensation blesses your nerve endings, making them vibrate with mirth throughout your skin. A strangled moan escapes your mouth when you allow a curse to fall out of your lips.

“Fuck,” you breathe. Your chest rises and falls with desperation. “Fuck, don’t…”

Taehyung hums, his face pressing against yours and he nudges your head to lean back against his shoulder.

“Don’t what?” He whispers, halting his actions. “I won’t touch you –”

“Don’t stop,” you seethe through your teeth.

He witnesses the way your nipples stand erect. How the twitch of your legs help open them wider as if you’re welcoming his hand to slide further. Your heart pounds with every waking moment, beating hard on the inside of your ribcage as your body sends itself into a state of bliss. You can imagine yourself in a rainforest, hearing tropical birds chirping as the smells of fresh mulch and soil fill your nostrils. Sun rays beaming down bright against your skin as you lounge yourself atop a lily pad floating on a pond. Bold, vibrant colors paint the world around you, and the only thing pulling you back to reality is the man splitting your legs wider with his feet as he leans you back against his chest.

“What are you seeing?” He questions calmly, unable to read the blown out pupils of your eyes.

Taehyung uses one hand to grip your chin softly, tilting your head to look up at him. With the vampiric blood dancing in your system, his features look even more amplified. More gorgeous – and you’re unsure exactly how. Taehyung glows like how you imagine an angel might, ethereal and stunning. His eyes twinkle like a thousand little suns having a fiesta together.

“You,” you admit. “I only see you.”

Taehyung keeps his focus on you, wanting to give you the ultimate pleasure you deserve. He’s sure to keep slow and not push the limits; he is aware of the draw-backs of what happens with a human on vampire blood. He wants to show you how he intends on keeping his promise of taking care of you to all ends, even when he is ignoring his own hard-on pressing against your backside. Maybe one day he’ll experiment sex with his blood in your system, if you so wish it, but for now – he knows you only need the bare minimum of happiness.

Seeing as you can have everything and anything you want right now.

Taehyung’s hand drops down to collect your breast in his palm. He doesn’t even need to toy with it much at all before having you gasp out loud from the sensation. Your nipples remain painfully erect, calling to Taehyung to stroke over them one by one just to turn up your pleasure some more.

You groan with excitement and feel your body quake with shivers running down your spine. Your hands rush to grab at him, moaning out a plea for him to continue his actions.

“Touch me, please.”

He shushes you as his other hand reaches for the detachable showerhead. From underneath you, his feet hook around your ankles to spread your legs wider. The heat of the shower touches your exposed pussy, revealing the dampened mess between your folds. It doesn’t last long there, not with how Taehyung runs the showerhead over your body. Teasing your skin all over before centering it above your cunt.

The blasts of water jetting out of each rubber hole presses against your lower lips and clit. A constant pressure applied right to the place you needed it the most. Your grip tightens as you inhale a whine, swallowing harshly as your body undergoes the sudden and shocking impact. You shake in Taehyung’s hold while reaching down between your legs to grip his wrist. His strength holds you back as his other palm latches over your mouth, muffling your beautiful whines and keeping you pressed against his body.

He rubs the showerhead over you slowly at a deliciously dangerous pace. Taehyung’s lips kiss against the side of your neck while you strangle a moan that fails to escape.

“That’s it…” he coos. “Accept it. Let your body fall into it.”

You screw your eyes tight as the words laced into your ears hit you. Beckoning your orgasm to release instantaneously and rolling over you like a bulldozer. Taehyung supports your body no matter which way you convulse; he’ll make sure you ride it out with no worries.

The hand placed over your mouth catches all your weeps and sobs, muting you from the world. Your nails pierce into Taehyung’s wrist as you anchor yourself, holding onto him for dear life. It’s as if the waterfall you once were under sweeps you off your feet and drifts you out and over the rocky slopes of a river and into a bottomless pit of an ocean. Where those raging rapids of your orgasm begin to calm down and smooth out into slow luscious waves. Sailing you out into the void on the surface of the water.

“Kitten?”

You hear Taehyung’s voice echo in your head. It sounds beautiful and serene, his voice coaxing over your senses as if it’s the only thing able to ground you.

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath through the thick steam of the shower. Collapsing your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder, you relish in the pure bliss of everything around you. His hand slips from your mouth to guide your jaw towards him as he simultaneously removes the showerhead from between your legs and back to the hook nearby. A soft, yet playful smile, dresses his beautiful lips. Even his eyes flash delight and mirth.

“You’re so sexy when you enjoy yourself,” he comments.

Delicately, his lips press onto yours once again. His mouth feels possessive, like he’s ready to eat you entirely. Meanwhile, his hands cage around you, pressing into your skin and holding you flush against his front.

The compliment floods you with a wave of embarrassment. Vulnerable and under the penetrating gaze of a vampire who can literally do whatever he wants with you at any given moment.

“T-Thanks…” you hush your words against his plump lips.

“Anytime,” Taehyung smiles.

He allows you a moment's rest just to relax with him; he completely ignores his strong hard-on pinched between your two bodies. A malicious and violent being – from what you’ve grown to know – makes you skeptical on how such a tender and soft man Taehyung truly can be. Even when he has only displayed his dominating sides… seeing something like this throws your head into a spin of confusion.

It surprises you.

But you don’t question any of his actions. Taehyung shows no real threat, not now… now when you’re dripping wet and naked on top of him, shaking from a mouthwatering orgasm that took less than a minute to achieve under a new influence.

On top of that, you only had the smallest amount of his blood in your system. You can’t even imagine how more would affect you.

“Let’s finish cleaning the rest of you off,” he addresses as he grabs a conditioner bottle. “I’m sure by now my servant has fixed you with some food and something to wear.”

Taehyung takes his time with you, holding you close every step of the way. He caters to you as if you are a broken doll. Careful to not break you further, but graceful enough to make you feel his compassion with every tender touch.

He whips you away with his spoiling behavior. Washes you from head to toe; peppering affectionate kisses across your skin.

Perhaps this is his way of apologizing.

When the two of you finally exit the bathroom, disregarding the trail of wet feet marks that follow you out the door, you’re welcomed with newly found clothes on a properly made bed. A small tray of juice and small food sits on a small desk. You stroll towards the mattress, happy to not feel your body aching with every movement. You plop down on the side of the bed as your eyes scan the laid out clothing, still wrapped up in your towel.

Taehyung moves steadily over to his closet. His robe hugs around his frame as his arms search aimlessly through his drawers and hung up clothing. You can see him shuffling through fabric after fabric, analyzing and processing which colors to coordinate with another.

“I’m afraid I have some business to attend to tonight,” he drones out. He sounds less than enthused about whatever it is he has to do. “I’ll be back before dawn. Feel free to wander the house. I’ll entrust you with Jin.”

You blink over at him, giving Taehyung a puzzled face when he catches your wandering gaze.

“Wait, what? Hold on, I have a few questions before you disappear on me.”

The tone in your voice shows how concerned you are feeling. Disorientated feels like an understatement.

Taehyung walks out of his closet with a pair of dress shoes and suit pieces hanging off of a few hangers in his hands. A camel tan jacket and matching pants paired up with a white button up long sleeve and black gucci shoes. He tosses them on the bed beside you as he hums.

“What questions do you have for me, kitten?”

He tilts his head as his eyes find yours. He raises his eyebrows with all attention on you. He stands at the foot of the bed, legs spread in a stance to make him look wider. Like he’s making a statement without having said it. Crude humor you think, especially when his long lengthy fingers begin tightening around the band holding his robe together. He toys with the idea of teasing you by pulling it out of its knot and allowing the material to lax naturally. Opening a slit that reveals his skin from chest all the way down to between his legs.

You stare at him with determination and a bit of fear. Because you’d be damned if you admired the view of his hanging appendage that he shamelessly gives opportunity for you to see.

“I… I – You’re coming back when?” You stumble over your words momentarily.

“Dawn.”

The audacity of his whole demeanor spills out confidence and carelessness all at the same time. He smirks when you finally direct your line of sight to something far away from him. It’s the only way you know how to talk with him without feeling some kind of way.

In your peripheral you can see Taehyung shrugging off the material of his robe and allowing it to drop down to the ground. He stands there naked and you’re well aware of it. You tighten your grip on your towel involuntarily as you concentrate on your speech.

“What time is it now?”

“Sometime after the sunset.”

“That’s… not helpful. Where’s my phone? All of my belongings that I had at Black Ravens. They’re not here? I also need to go back home.”

Taehyung huffs a laugh as he slips up his trousers and buttons them securely. The humor laced in his voice throws you off as you try to stay serious on the matter.

“It means it’s sometime at night,” he grins. His hands run through his hair, brushing out the damped tendrils away from his face. “Your belongings are with me. No need to worry about them right now, kitten.”

He’s dismissive. You also notice the way he ignores the last thing you said, which twists your curiosity even more.

“Tae. I need my phone,” you state.

Slowly, he rounds about the bed to your side. Taehyung steps in your line of sight and moves closer to you. He’s sliding an arm through the sleeve of his button up as he fixes his stance before you. His finger comes out to tap under your chin, beckoning you to look up to him.

Your eyes scan across the sliver of his stomach all the way up towards his sharp collar bones. His neck looks desirable, kissable. But when you meet his hooded eyes, you feel heat strike your nerves. His face shows no signs of that playful humor lingering in his voice as he stares down at you.

“I’ll tell you what. Be a good kitten for me and stay here until I get back. Then I’ll give back your phone and bring you home.”

You hesitate to respond to him. The scowl that covers your face shows your displeasure and frustration. The split second you go to twist your head out of Taehyung’s finger, he grips your jaw.

Taehyung levels himself with you, bending down to look you straight into your eyes. His eyes look hazed over with some sort of clouded anger as they bore into yours.

“Y/n. I need you to stay here for me,” his voice drops to a stern ring. It shakes you all the way to the core. “Do you understand?”

You shake your head slowly as you accept his request. There are no words that can describe the things Taehyung’s presence does to you, let alone his words alone. The way it always feels like he has a claim over you. The way he can boss and control you with just a simple snap of his finger if he demands it.

A creeping smirk grows on Taehyung’s pleased face. The importance of subordination and lack of patience is something you note in the back of your head.

“Good girl,” he praises. Taehyung leans in more to place one last kiss to your lips, humming satisfaction as he gets his way. “Now, behave,” he warns as he removes himself from you.

“Why don’t you go choose a necklace for me from one of the valet boxes I have in the closet,” he insists as he sits himself down to focus on slipping into his shoes.

You remain propped right in your spot on his bed as you clutch the cloth of the towel surrounding you. Watching the back of Taehyung’s head, you find yourself frozen in place from wanting to move.

“Who’s Jin?”

Visibly, you can see the way Taehyung’s shoulders shrug as if he’s letting out a sigh. He shakes his head to himself as he finishes putting on the last piece of his clothing – his jacket – and adjusts the cufflinks.

“My eldest brother.”

After Taehyung leaves you alone in his bedroom, you sit for a while before wanting to actually make yourself presentable. You feel sluggish, whether it be from tiredness or the lazy state your body settles in after having that mind-blowing orgasm from a showerhead. Of course, you take your time moving around his room. You even take a few more bathroom visits to finalize your look with whatever toiletries you manage to find.

You grow bored of the bedroom surroundings just how you grow bored of the lack of social interaction. Placed in an area that you are completely unknown to, the only person you’ve managed to see is Taehyung. Even when he claims there is a servant on-hand, they’ve yet to come back to the room at all. Leaving you curious about what lies outside of the bedroom door… and hungry with the need for food.

The door opens gracefully, it doesn’t even creak at the hinges when it swings. You’re met with an empty hall, only simplistic flower paintings hang in an orderly fashion along the length of the wall. You take a look up and down the expanse, seeing as you’re smackdab right in the middle of the hall.

From the right, it looks to be a dead end. A lonely black counter sits at the far end wall with one singular clear vase set in the middle and a mirror secured to the wall. To your left, there’s an opening far beyond you can see.

Your feet step haphazardly as you trail down the wooden flooring. It smells like any other normal house would, just with a hint of cleaning solution lingering in the air. Nothing seems out of place, everything perfectly set in alignment. Not even a speck of dust flies in the air throughout the illumination of the bright lights above.

Eventually, you creep further into the house. You find yourself walking into an empty entranceway, the front door completely black in color with a golden handle. All the windows are boarded up, seal tight. The reminder of Taehyung’s request echoes in your mind, telling you not to leave.

That he needs you here.

You stare at the door for longer than you admit, mind racing with interest. But you're drawn to a muffle noise that resounds in the air. It snaps your attention to another direction. As if the house itself is your usher, the walls guide you away from the front door and down the next corridor.

Emerging around a corner, you instantly see a countertop with a display of utensils laid out. The closer you step, the more of the kitchen is presented to your eyes. An island sink and stove, refrigerator, and at least two tall cabinets that are presumably filled with food.

Your mouth begins to water with the ideas of something fresh, something delicious. Maybe a set of snacks are waiting for you just inside those doors.

However, you still aren’t forgetting the strange noises you hear that continue to grow as you step into the kitchen.

You come faced with a window in the wall above a section in the kitchen. It peaks into some sort of gathering area, like a living room you guess. But what you see isn’t anything you expect.

The muffled noises are from people. They are in front of a fireplace, lit to a bright flame, yet they’re either half or completely naked. A woman is on her knees right before a male standing tall. His hands are mangled within her auburn locks, guiding her head vigorously into his pelvis. The noises you heard, are nonother than two people fucking – face-fucking. Their moans and aggressive groans amplify the longer you stare.

His backside mainly faces you; you can barely make the features of these two strangers. His sharp calves flex through his tight jeans as he balances himself, so does his marvelous thighs. The elastic band around his thin waist hangs enough to expose his member, plunging deep into the willing woman’s mouth.

But the scene itself makes you fumble over your footing as you back away. You accidentally slap your arm against the countertop as you try to anchor yourself from falling over, knocking into the array of utensils and causing a ruckus.

It surely gains the male’s attention as you watch his head look over his shoulder abruptly. Dark locks hang over his ruby red eyes as a piercing gaze penetrates you where you feebly stand. Blood smears across his parted mouth, sharp teeth bearing themselves to you.

Like a deer caught in headlights, your eyes look back at him. Widened and scared.

His hips continue to roll into the woman’s face while his hands keep guiding the head of the woman onto his cock. You can’t see it, but you can surely hear the way the woman gags around something several times. It’s rough, you can tell with the type of savagery the male puts into his thrusts. But she sucks it in like she's drunk on lust; bite marks littering her flesh.

“I-I, uh –” you stutter as you hoist yourself up into a normal stance. Your hands scurry across the countertop to gather the utensils in a haste as the leering gaze of the male glares at you.

“I am so sorry!” you blurt out.

The second you look down, you feel a gust of wind beside you. To your right, a bare chest enters your peripheral view. A masculine hand slaps itself down on top of yours, pinning you to the countertop. Even with a quick yank, you cannot move a single centimeter away from the weighting pressure on top of your hand.

You scream out a yelp of pain before your eyes snap to the man who leans in beside you. Bright scarlet eyes stare at you like a dagger ready to pierce skin. Blood dribbles down his chin and drops to his smooth chest as he smiles a devilish smile down at you. He doesn’t even have the decency to cover up his hardened cock, it stands out of his pant’s zipper as they lay low on his dainty waist. You’re embarrassed to even take in the sight of the sculpted abdomen of the male, let alone the proud dickhead pointing right at you.

Quickly, he makes his way around your frame to corner you against the island countertop. Both his arms cage you in, barricading your body against two hard places.

Fear strikes all your nerves, quickening your heart rate and causing a panic.

“J-Jin?”

The name comes out shaky, just like how your limbs begin to do. You quiver between the male and the countertop. He leans in, grinning to himself as his eyes scan up and down your body. He presses himself closer, even brushing his hardened dick against your front.

“I can be Jin if you want me to, baby,” his voice comes out deadly and smooth. It curls your insides, sends red alert noises in your brain.

Instantly, it tells you that his identity must not be Taehyung's eldest brother. Now, you’re concerned with who exactly this other vampire is.

Taehyung never mentioned someone else.

“Stop!”

You try to squirm out of the male’s hold. You’re being violated in so many ways by this unwanted presence. Even the fist you form with your free hand does nothing to the side of the male’s face. It only creates a loud smacking sound as your knuckles contact his jaw.

The man tilts his head back to level it with yours. Any sign of amusement he has completely vanishes. His nose scrunches as he inhales deeply.

“You’re going to regret –”

“– Jungkook!”

A voice cracks through the intense male before you. His gaze fades out momentarily as he listens to the call of his name. His shoulders rise with irritation and aggression.

Another male’s hand comes to grab Jungkook’s forearm before ripping it away from surrounding you. He easily pushes the attacker off, giving a few feet space between the two of you.

“Don’t,” the newest male warns as he stares back at the other.

The male’s back is away from you, but you can tell he’s taller in stance. He, too, has dark hair – at least it looks styled. His body is lathered in a light blue silk shirt that’s tucked into black dress pants and a thin belt. He radiates authority with the way he stands.

“Jungkook,” he warns as he senses the vampire getting agitated. “I command you to not lay a single finger on her. You’re not allowed to harm her in any way.”

They exchange a heated stare with another. However, to your surprise, you notice Jungkook standing straighter. Submission. A cocky, yet pissed off look, suits his face as he uses the opportunity to tuck himself back inside his pants and zip his zipper.

His eyes glance over to you, frozen and unable to move from your spot, while he expresses his annoyance towards you.

“With all those little noises I heard earlier, I expected you to be another whore.”

The male in the blue shirt swiftly and fluidly backhands Jungkook in a blink of an eye. The power alone splits Jungkook’s cheek open, blood spraying out with the movement of Jungkook’s head.

You stare in shock, tears brimming in your eyes. Slowly, you are able to edge your body away from the counter and back the way you come. But you’re halted in your tracks by the male in the blue shirt.

“Stay, Y/n,” he calls out.

It’s the first time he faces you, turning in his spot as he adjusts the sleeve of his shirt. You’re met with another gorgeous looking male, almost too serene. You can peg Taehyung for ethereal, but this man seems to outstand any words you can form.

He looks at you with serious and determined eyes. They’re a delicious brown pecan color, kind to look at.

“I’m Jin,” he begins to explain as he looks back at Jungkook. “I apologize for the rudeness from my progeny. He is still a child. I assure you, he won’t bother you again.”

You look back at Jin worriedly. Afraid to look over at the blood-covered Jungkook and afraid to go against Jin’s request.

“Jungkook,” the elder male cocks his head to the side. “Go clean up your mess in the living room. Clean yourself up while you’re at it. She’s our company.”

As Jungkook goes to turn on his heel without a second thought, Jin speaks to him again.

“But first,” his tone lingers in the air above everyone’s heads, “Apologize to Y/n. After all, she isn’t a whore like you assumed.”

You can tell the resistance on Jungkook’s face when he turns back. Those scarlet eyes that once penetrated your soul dwell down to a sterling gray color. They’re clouded with uncertainty and anger, but if you look past all his chiseled nakedness and gruesome bloodstains across his body he doesn’t look quite as scary.

Very handsome matter of fact; yet his actions alone already painted him in such a dull light that you’re completely comfortable not exploring any more details about him.

Jungkook stares at you through the corner of his eye, fueled with displeasure as he’s forced to obey Jin.

“Sorry.”

The apology comes out dry, you’re aware it’s definitely not sincere. You say nothing in response. But from the smug grin Jin has on his face, you can tell he’s enjoying the control.

“Now, carry on,” Jin waves with his hand. He takes a step towards you as he continues to talk to Jungkook. “The one in the living room leaves the house alive, Jungkook,” he reminds. “We don’t want any mistakes like last time.”

You watch as Jungkook disappears from the kitchen and returns to the auburn haired woman who has collapsed on the floor. If you look through the opened wall window you will be able to see the way Jungkook lazily picks up the fallen woman.

Jin steps around the kitchen to look throughout some of the cabinets and shelving units. He hums to himself while he searches.

“I admit, you had me thinking you’d stay cooped up in that room all night for a second there. You must be hungry, hm? I’m sure we have something in here for you.”

He peaks over at you, who is still lingering in the same stunned spot, and gives you a pained expression.

“You can come closer. It may be hard, with what you just witnessed, but try to get comfortable. I’m not going to do anything to you.”

You swallow thickly while your eyes flicker over from Jungkook to Jin. You’re uncertain, as you should be, but the moments you just endured still feels very much real for you. It shakes your core.

“What about him?” You nod towards Jungkook’s direction.

There’s a small pleased grin that creeps up on Jungkook’s face at your question while he hoists the woman up and over his shoulder. She mumbles words you cannot understand, whether it be another language or a very thick accent. But Jungkook never looks back to you, his mind is on other things now.

“He won’t hurt you,” Jin exhales. He gathers together some eggs from inside the fridge and a few pieces of meat. “I’ve commanded him. So even if he wanted to, he’s bound to listen to my order.”

You take a step in to lean against the nearest wall. Though you see Jin wave you on towards a stool sitting across from where he settled to cook at. Slowly, you tip-toe over to where Jin’s pointed look guides you.

“Because you ‘commanded’ him?”

Jin works around the built-in electric stove with a few pans on the heated plates. He cracks open an egg, then two.

“I am his maker. I have that ability over him,” he says. “Jungkook is still a newborn. Doesn’t have much control over everything just yet. Incredible strength… insufferable lack of tolerance to the rules of the world though. It’s a bit of a challenge but he has much more training to do.”

“What do you mean you’re his maker?”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as Jin continues to add random pieces of food to it. Some form of omelet from the looks of it. It already smells appetizing and it’s not even fully cooked yet.

“I turned him into a vampire,” he says nonchalantly.

Jin softly smiles as he flips over the egg to fry the other side. He gathers you a glass of water, but tells you that there are options of juice in the refrigerator. The cup clinks down on the countertop right next to a plate Jin grabs.

“There’s forks in the drawer beside you,” Jin voices. “Now tell me how our little Taehyung came to find you.”

The neatly made omelet slides out of the pan and onto your plate before you. Jin hands over salt and pepper shakers as well as a napkin for you. After he turns off the stove and briefly cleans up the area he works at, he rests back on the opposite counter with crossed arms. He waits for you to happily take your food while waiting for your response.

You feel your stomach twist in eagerness, starving to taste the deliciously made food. With your fork, you cut into the omelet before stabbing the first piece and placing the appetizing egg into your mouth.

“Black Ravens,” you state in between bites.

“Ah –,” Jin smiles. “Interesting.”

Jin watches you, analyzes you. His haunting beauty would normally make you nervous, kind of like how it is when you first got to learn about Taehyung. You can’t place your finger on it, but somehow you feel the needed trust your mind wants to be reassured you are in good hands.

“How long?”

You stop chewing your food as you look at Jin. A puzzled look begins to carve itself on your face.

“How long have you worked at Black Ravens?” He clarifies.

You’re nearly done with your plate of food by now. Even the glass of water beside you sits half empty as you straighten your posture in the seat you sit at.

“A few months…” you ponder more to yourself as you recollect the memories.

“Resorting to a job like that… my curiosity is getting the better of me,” Jin hums again. Suddenly, you see a flash of something black run across the floor before it hops up on the counter beside Jin. He smiles warmly, petting the frisky feline that stares back with its round eyes. “Did you join Black Ravens for money or pleasure? Or perhaps… it turned into a bit of both?”

You don’t answer the question, seeing as Jin gives you a knowing look as he looks you up and down. He already knows. The question is deemed rhetorical. You shouldn’t be here if it is strictly for money… Now would you?

“Is that your cat?”

“Her name is Stella,” Jin affirms as he gives the feline soft scratches under her chin. “I’m sure she kept you company while you were asleep, she enjoys Taehyung’s room for whatever reason.”

You nod briefly, smiling to yourself. Stella had kept you accompanied more than just at your bedside. But she is friendly in the end.

“She did,” you admit. You admire the stark black shorthair who purrs into Jin’s palm. Thoroughly enjoying the pets and love he shows her.

Gracefully, Stella hops from counter to counter. Jumping towards you as she sniffs the air. She inspects the residue on your plate as she steps closer to you. Leisurely, Stella makes her own room on the island by laying down just in front of you. Her tale wags with sass as she stares back at Jin across the kitchen.

You lightly pet her from head to tail. Making sure not to offend her with any temping tummy rubs.

Jin grins from ear to ear as he reads the house cat language. He’s entertained with the attitude, it gives Stella characterization.

“She enjoys you,” he comments. “Lucky for you.”

“Maybe it’s because I work with animals…” you trail off.

“Do you now?”

“I work in a vet’s office. Started as a receptionist then wanted to become a veterinary technician. Now I want to be a veterinarian.”

“So a stable job and you still work at Black Ravens?”

“I needed the money. College funds here aren’t cheap… and I'm barely getting by with my position at the vet's office. Not with the cost of living and bills to pay.”

Jin nods agreeably.

“So he agreed to pay for you. In return for…?”

“Who? Taehyung? No. It’s not like that,” you furrow your brows.

“You came here with several bite marks on you. I’m surprised to see they’re all gone,” Jin comments on your appearance. “You must mean something for Taehyung to willingly shed blood.”

You’re all washed up and clothed. You can’t imagine the state of your body after collapsing in the Black Raven’s feeding room, but you’re sure it wasn’t a pretty sight. With Jin’s perception, you assume that maybe he was the other person in the room when you were barely awake in Taehyung’s bed.

“I don’t know what he wants with me,” you state. “I barely know him. He is just a regular at Black Ravens. Last night…last night was the first time he really opened up. And it wasn’t much. I knew he was an expensive client, but I didn’t know he was the owner.”

“The coven owns Black Ravens. Not just him. It’s in fact under my name,” Jin smiles. He scoffs as he finally takes your used dishware and places it in the sink. He runs the faucet water and adds a dab of soap before shutting the water off. “This kid… he’s something else. I’m sorry if Taehyung did anything unpleasant towards you.”

“I don’t think anything was necessarily unpleasant. I think he brought me back here because of the other vampire. He was more… more determined with his –”

“– There’s another?”

Jin’s hands rest on the edges of the countertop as he leans in towards you. His interest spikes and you can see it on his face.

You sigh to yourself as you continue to pet Stella, “Yeah. His name is Jimin? Taehyung interrupted the feeding.”

“Ah,” Jin laughs. His eyebrows raise to his hairline as the man chuckles lightly. “Oh, Jimin. Well I can understand why Taehyung brought you here now. Those two seem to always be at it.”

“I could tell Taehyung wasn’t happy with him,” you half-laugh with him.

“He’s never happy with him,” Jin exaggerates. Though with the glint in his eye, you feel like he's telling you he’s serious.

“Can I ask why?”

There’s a moment of silence that passes between you and Jin. The only noise you hear is the constant purring of Stella as she lounges her lengthy body across the counter space. You see the way Jin’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, giving you the hint to not press anymore on the topic.

“When you feel comfortable, I’d advise you to ask Taehyung himself. It’s not my business to spread,” Jin quickly looks down at the watch on his wrist to gauge the time. “He should return sometime in the next two hours, before daybreak.”

Jin walks himself around the island you sit at, his palm facing up toward you to take. He steps beside you with a duchenne smile; he nearly looks like a charmed prince giving you his blessing. Excitement is evident, and you fall for his swift persuasion.

“Now before then, let me accompany you around the mansion. I imagine you’ll be here more often than you think. I promise to steer you away from Jungkook.”

After a tour around the neo-gothic styled modern mansion from Jin, the two of you entertained each other until you settled yourself on one of the expensive couches in the family room. You listened and talked with Jin, shared some small enlightening topics but nothing too detailed. Throughout your walkthrough you managed to meet a few of the house servants, one of which delivered you some clothes to change into. You truly must be so tired, because during the midst of conversation you have dozed off; being just a mere human would explain it.

You remember rising from your slumber with a few taps to your nose. Your vision is blurred at first until it adjusts to the figure before you.

In front of you, you’re met by the toothy smile of Taehyung – bent by the knees to level his body with yours. His hazel eyes greet you with mirth as he raises his eyebrows.

“Good morning, kitten,” his deep baritone voice rings in your ears. His palm cradles the underside of your chin, thumb rubbing softly along the edge of your jaw. “Still tired?”

It warms your heart and flutters the wings of the butterflies that fly in your stomach. Seeing him instantly makes you want to leap across an ocean to hug him, but you catch yourself from doing anything.

Because you’re not sure why you’re feeling the strong desire to touch him. How his presence feels all too familiar and safe.

You blink at him, taking in the beautiful features across his ageless face. What excites you even more is how Taehyung seems completely delighted to see you once again.

“Just a little,” you admit.

It’s subtle in the way he licks his lips. He brushes his fingers past your ear to sway strands of your hair away from your neck. Taehyung senses your brief fit of worry but assures you that he is only just checking as a precaution.

“Let me get you back home,” he states coolly. Holding up your cellphone with his other hand, he dangles the near-dead device in front of your face. “I keep my promises.”

A sting of anger zaps through your body as you recall Taehyung holding your electronic hostage all this time – along with all your valuables you had carried with you to Black Ravens. With vigilance, you grip the phone from his lengthy fingers. You tap on the screen to see the battery life of the device, but you fear opening it up near him.

“Come,” he requests with a wiggle of his forefinger.

He stands up as he straightens out the wrinkles in the jacket you saw him leave in. Taehyung grabs hold of a set of keys left on a glass end table as his heels click on the floor below him. He practically drips pure gold with the weight of each stride. Lavished in the finest clothes, you appreciate the view of Taehyung walking away from you.

You make sure to apologize to Jin about falling asleep as you walk out the door after Taehyung. He doesn’t seem like he minds, even though he watches you leave with caution in his eyes.

The dark chilly early morning greets you as well as a gust of brisk wind. Small puddles cover the walkway from a fresh drizzle of rain. The sun hasn’t even peaked itself through the sky yet but it leaves a pretty view; a deep blue melting into the beginnings of a soft peach orange. A perfect crescent moon floats right above the layout of trees surrounding the thicket of woods with roaming dark clouds. A guarantee of scattered storms for the oncoming day.

You appreciate the outside of the house as you step behind Taehyung’s long strides. Abstract designs correspond and compliment another in colors of black, browns, and beiges. The windows show clean glass but continue to be boarded up for the forthcoming sunlight. Hidden in nothing but dense forest, you’re led to ponder how deep you are from the city you live in.

Taehyung ushers you over to the passenger side of a matte black Mercedes AMG GT coupe. Each window is tinted, shutting out any light. His eyes watch you as you place your foot through the door, but his hand grabs your arm before you can descend down into the seat.

“Hey,” his voice is low. Taehyung draws your attention to him, his eyes leer down through his long lashes. “Are you feeling better?”

You swallow while nodding your head. The wind wisps the loose waves of Taehyung’s black hair in front of his forehead. It exposes his eyes more, makes you fall in love with how asymmetric they are to another. One monolid and the other a double eyelid; giving his overall appearance a striking aura.

“I do,” you softly smile.

Taehyung’s eyes trail down to the curve of your lips. They linger there while silence skirts around the two of you; the only noises are of early birds chirping and the breeze running through the leaves overhead.

You can feel the intensity radiating from him. Yet, Taehyung does nothing about it. He releases his grip on your arm to let you into the car, pushing the door shut after you settle in.

Taehyung enters through the driver’s side, fitting comfortably in as his fingers begin toying with the screen on the dashboard and glowing widgets on the center console. The interior is smooth, a cool black color surrounds you entirely. He starts the engine up with a press of a button.

“What’s your address?”

He looks over to you as one arm reaches towards the steering wheel while the other hovers towards the screen of the dashboard. Taehyung tilts his head towards you, a creeping smile plays at the corners of his lips. One eyebrow quirks your way and you instantly feel captivated by him.

Taehyung’s vehicle takes you through aimless roads among more aimless roads until you find yourself nearing a familiar area. The highway takes you closer towards exit signs that welcome you. Numbers flash overhead, warning you as you approach your turnoff as you admire the view of the beautiful sky. Light rain trickles on the windshield the deeper Taehyung drives you into your residential city. It’s only one exit off from the notorious Black Ravens; roughly a 25 minute drive from place to place without traffic in the way.

The directions call out to Taehyung as the two of you sit in comfortable silence. Your head leans on the headrest as you stare out the window. Taehyung’s palm comfortably resting on your bare thigh; hardly covered by the overlength tee shirt you were dressed in.

“Can I ask how you were able to talk to my friend?” You look down at your phone clutched in your palm. You hesitate to open the device, having half a mind to think Taehyung already went through the contents. “Did he call?”

Taehyung’s features never change in the slightest while humming to a tune. Even his thumb taps lightly over the steering wheel while the vehicle cruises down the lengthy road.

“Your phone recognized your face when you were asleep which then unlocked the screen,” he says calmly. “He did not call. I only responded through text about your absence.”

You sigh while adjusting yourself in your seat. Hands fidgeting with the cellular device, but you choose not to look. Afraid to read the disappointment – if any – that may be messaged in the thread you share with your friend.

Even when you contemplate with yourself, Taehyung is attentive to you. Analyzing and watching the way your body language speaks.

“What’s got you so worried? Is the guy someone you’re involved with?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together at the thought. Immediately, you follow with a curt response – diminishing any existence of that being an idea for you.

“Not at all. He’s my best friend.”

Taehyung remains quiet, but you thank him for not entertaining the idea further. You also express your gratitude for letting your friend know you aren’t around.

Shortly, you arrive at your destination as rain begins to pour. Taehyung parks on the curb of the street in front of your apartment; his car sticking out like a sore thumb among the rest of the inexpensive cars around. It looks and feels completely out of place. But at least he has a car, unlike you who’s become accustomed to your local bus stops.

Before you can even reach your handle, Taehyung turns off the ignition and is out of the driver’s side. Stepping around the front of the car to approach your door. The weather doesn’t phase him one bit.

“Mademoiselle,” he smirks as he assists you exiting his car. He’s even kind enough to shut the door behind you and gather a bag of your belongings from the trunk of his vehicle.

You can’t help but smile to yourself from the pampering. Little do you know, this is only the beginnings of his hospitality and generosity.

Fishing out your set of keys out of a side pocket of your canvas bag, you fumble between the metals before finding the appropriate one to slide through the lock of your door. Taehyung stands ideally behind you, but his presence is very much evident. The tension back at the mansion carried all the way here, to the entrance of your home.

He stands closer in your proximity, you feel as if he’s practically breathing down your neck. But in reality, upon turning to look at him after twisting your door handle, he’s further away than you expect. Taehyung’s eyes scan the darkness of your house through the crack of your door.

“I, um…” you begin. You turn more to face Taehyung, tightening your hold on your bag.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper.

Taehyung’s eyes flick over to you, those hazel irises drip so wickedly. They’re unmatched and unfair; you have never seen anything quite like them before. There’s something magical about them.

“I told you I’ll take care of you, kitten,” he half-laughs.

His deep voice shakes your core, makes you feel smaller in the spot you stand. Taehyung’s fingers grip your jaw before you can turn away from his gaze.

“No need to thank me,” his eyes stare down to your lips as you aimlessly blink at him. “What do you want next?”

Your breath hitches, “What do you mean?”

Taehyung’s tongue comes to swipe over his lips before biting back a smile. He stops himself from rolling his eyes, but instead he takes his thumb and lightly pulls down your bottom lip.

“You look at me with these desperate eyes sometimes, and whenever you do – I can’t stop myself from thinking about them. So, what do you want me to do next? Are we just going to stand here under the cold rain or are you going to invite me inside?”

He sighs when he senses the way your heart rate paces even faster. Taehyung steps closer to you, eyes narrowing through his pretty long eyelashes. You would give anything and everything for him to kiss you right then and there. Plant his delicious soft lips straight onto yours and eat you up. You’re unsure what you are to Taehyung, and it feels weird seeing him in a different setting other than Black Ravens… but it doesn’t take him much persuasion to get what he wants.

Because simply… it is the same thing you want as well. Whether you like to admit it or not.

You nod your head softly while your hand pushes your door open wider. He allows you the opportunity to walk into your apartment, giving you three steps into the hall before he clears his throat. Turning on your foot, you notice he’s still at the door frame – unable to step through.

“You need to invite me,” he raises his eyebrows.

You scrunch yours in return, unable to process why you need to say it. You thought your body language already let him know he’s accepted to come inside.

“Why?”

“It’s a weird thing with vampires. We need to be invited in when a house is privately owned by a human. And seeing as you are a tenant, you technically are signed onto a portion of this house. Making you a partial owner.”

Taehyung leans against the doorframe with his hands as he speaks with you. The gloomy darkness of the weather trickles around him, giving his aura a more sinful look. His soft curls in his hair begin to lose their volume as rain soaks up portions of his locks. But you do not miss the flash of red that beats in his eyes under the blanket of his bangs.

You should be scared; that’s what all the world tells you when it comes to vampires. A selfish, devious, and vicious creature of the night. They take what they want, live how they wish. If they really wanted to, you’re positive they could corrupt the entire planet with their virus.

But when you stare back at Taehyung with a pounding beat to your heart, your fear is nothing but full of excitement. The dread of knowing and not knowing what comes next with him electrifies you. How somehow, in some way, this nightly beast has already tainted you.

Staring back, you swallow thickly before your mouth opens up with an open invitation.

“Please come inside.”

Within a blink of an eye, Taehyung moves himself in front of you, dropping your bag of belongings with a thud. His arms envelop your body as one of his hands snake along the back of your neck. The tips of his fingers graze over your scalp softly, drawing goosebumps in their wake. Taehyung smiles to himself as he presses your body against his, ripping the breath right from your lungs with a salivary kiss.

He comes with such force that it nearly knocks you off of your feet, but Taehyung is there to hold you. His wicked tongue presses through the seam of your lips and past your teeth, tasting you as much as he can as his body backs you up deeper into your apartment. It’s small, comfortable and affordable for one living person to stay in. So it doesn’t take very long for Taehyung to figure out the placement of your bedroom the second his eyes scan over the living room that sits only a two-seat couch and entertainment center with a television propped on it. One lone entryway shows signs of counter space and a fridge whereas the single door adjacent to there remains cracked open.

Taehyung’s hands touch and grope along your body, squeezing at the necessary areas like your curves and thighs. You match the pace of his tongue with your own, devouring the taste of him as your feet stumble the more he pushes you through your living space.

“Ignore my apartment,” you meekly speak between breaths.

It’s slightly a mess and there is no way in hell you are expecting company this early in the morning.

“I’m not focusing on your apartment,” he bites – literally – as his teeth nip at your bottom lip.

Taehyung’s fingers toy with the hem of the tee shirt, raising it higher up to expose your bottom half. He places his palm along the side of your hip, nails scratching over your skin as he continues to escort you into your room.

“Tae –”

“– Mmf,” he mumbles as his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

Even in the darkness of your room, Taehyung expertly maneuvers the two of you around as if he’s been here before. Knowing the exact places to step and weave your bodies around until he’s able to support you onto your bed.

“Tae, wait!” You chirp the moment your thighs hit your mattress.

You sit down while Taehyung’s face follows, placing fluttering kisses along your jawline and pressing into the side of your neck. It sparks heat to your body, a sensitive spot you naturally go weak at. He shrugs off his jacket, tossing the expensive material to the side as if it isn’t worth anything to him.

“Let me have you,” he persuades with each tangible kiss of his lips. “I’m not making you nervous, am I?”

Your heart flutters as your mind fogs with ideas of pleasure and pain. Even in the short amount of time, you feel drunk on the idea of Taehyung bedding you once again. The idea of him being in your bed and not some rented out room feels more intimate.

More special.

“I just,” you stutter as you feel Taehyung’s teeth grind over your sensitive skin. His breath heats you up as it fans out of his mouth. “Usually, I’m more prepared for something like this.”

“Your body says otherwise,” he mocks lightly.

“No, not like that. I mean, this morning I was just so tired. I wasn’t… I didn’t pay attention,” you mumble to yourself more than to Taehyung. Creeping anxiety builds in your chest the more you ponder about your appearance.

“Kitten, are you scared about this?” Taehyung smirks against your neck when his hand forces your legs open enough to cup your pussy. His palm pressing firmly against it, the moistened arousal leaks gleefully onto him as he slowly rubs his entire hand up and down.

It’s abrasive, yet you love it. Your mouth drops open with a gasp, hands baring you upright as they shoot out to stop your body from falling backwards onto your bed. You shiver with the contact, breath hitched in your throat as warmth takes over your entire body.

“This will never bother me, kitten. Your sweet pussy will always be delicious regardless of how maintained you are here. But I am flattered with the thought of you wanting to please me,” he says truthfully.

Taehyung gathers your hands in his, linking them across another as his fingers grip your wrists tightly. He pulls out a small scarf from the pocket of his pants, placing the blue silk fabric over your skin.

“Hold still,” he speaks calmly.

He binds your wrists together, snuggly. It’s comfortable, but tight enough to keep you locked in. Unable to break free from the constraints.

Taehyung hoists your body up with him, ushering you completely to lay normally on your mattress. He eyes the small bars of your headboard with a grin plastered on his face.

He guides your hands above your head, “Hold it,” he commands.

Your hands grip a single metal bar, linking your fingers to keep hold of yourself. It feels like a usual practice between you and Taehyung. There isn’t a time you don’t remember when Taehyung hasn’t tied your limbs up before indulging himself on your body. Limiting your access to him even though he’s inches away from you. Frankly, you never thought too much into it – assuming he has a strong kink for bondage. You have no complaints because you’re guilty of experiencing some of your own while entwining your body with his.

You breathe deeply, chest rising and falling as you stare over Taehyung who kneels near the end of your bed. He edges closer to you, crawling his way up the length of your body as he drinks you in. Dim lighting and musical rain drops cascade on the windows as the air in your room thickens.

“I’m going to try something new,” he begins as his fingers skim up the side of your body. “I need you to trust me,” Taehyung coaxes with his baritone tune.

The moment you see Taehyung shift towards your bedside table, you begin to panic.

“Go easy on me,” you beg.

Taehyung quirks an eyebrow toward you, amusement evident in his features. He continues to grab hold of a small candle that sits comfortably on your table, dust collected on the top of it showing that you’ve hardly used the poor thing.

“Hm,” he fake ponders to himself. “Why? Was the last time too much for you?”

Taehyung lights the candle with a match set laying beside it, giving a warm comfortable glow to a small portion of your room. He laughs to himself, but assures you with a kind gesture of cuffing your cheek that he’ll be kinder to you.

“I’m only teasing,” he comments. Taehyung lowers himself level with you; his body slots itself between your thighs as he holds himself over your chest. Slowly, he lowers his face to meet yours; his eyes grow to a warm red. “I know what your body can handle. If I see you in any way uncomfortable, I’ll stop myself. I won’t push you like I did the other night.”

“I’m just sore,” you bite back a smile. “Even after the shower and after having some of your… When you gave me a bit of your blood.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement. “It was only a very small bit, if I had given you more then you’d probably be suited for a different type of night,” he winks, “But don’t worry, kitten, I’ll take good care of you if you let me have you.”

You nod your head as you swallow heavily. Instinctively, you grip the bar in your grasp tighter. Slowly, Taehyung connects his lips to yours once again. This time it’s softer, tentative. He feels like a cloud of smoke infiltrating your nostrils. Inflaming your lungs and airways all throughout your body.

As if you breathe him in as another source of life. Where oxygen cannot even compete.

“Can I hear you say it?”

You chase his mouth as he pulls away to look down at you. Your eyes are drawn to the sharp teeth that stand out in his mouth, how they protrude eagerly. Ready to draw blood.

“You can have me… On one condition,” you speak up.

“Oh?” Taehyung smiles. His palm drags from your thigh up to your lower stomach, moving your shirt up along your body. “You’re not really in a position to negotiate with me,” he smirks.

“You said we’d talk about what you meant by ‘adjusting’.”

“And you want to talk about that now?”

“Well,” you blink up at him, “We haven’t had the chance to yet.”

Taehyung sighs as his hand rests on your stomach, circling small traces into your skin with his fingertips. His eyes grow redder, more hungrier, the longer you hold him back.

“Kitten, I’m not sure you understand the severity of this situation. I don’t expect you to know. I can’t afford to lose you now that I finally have you,” he says while analyzing your face. “But for clarity, I need you to know that everything you see right now – your bed, this room, your apartment… You don’t need anymore if you just let me take care of you.”

Taehyung’s hand eventually slides up to cuff one of your breasts, drawing your clouded mind out from the worries that dwell in the deepest corners of your brain. He squeezes it firmly, earning a soft hum from you.

To seduce you further into the realms of sin, he raises the material of your shirt completely above your chest so he can begin placing soft and tender kisses to your cleavage. His mouth engulfs your flesh wherever it lands, sucking in pieces of your skin as his tongue slides around.

He latches himself on one of your nipples, biting the bud with his front teeth. Taehyung repeats his actions to your other boob, making sure to give the same loving treatment.

“You’re mine,” he states smoothly. “I’ll take care of everything for you. Treat you just how you need to be treated,” – he kisses your sternum – “I want you to be with me. But I won’t expect this to happen so soon,” – he kisses lower, down towards your stomach – “I’ll take my time with you.”

“Tae,” you breathe in with a gasp. His lips travel even more lower, tickling your stomach with promises of him moving down toward the apex of your thighs.

He looks up at the call of his name, his stunning red eyes shining in the low glow of the candle’s light. How do they do that? You’re not sure. But they reflect like a beautiful moonlight, tainted in a devious red. Taehyung’s tongue reaches out of his mouth to lick your stomach, swiping a long line of saliva across your skin.

Taehyung does nothing but entices you. Tempts you to crack under his ministrations like a good girl he knows you are. You’ve done it so many times already, it’s no surprise when you finally cave in.

Before Taehyung can descend down between your thighs, he leans back up to give you one last parting kiss.

His voice shakes your core when he speaks next. His control over you stimulates such a thrill in your entire being that you’re wiggling with anticipation while waiting for him to ravage you.

“I want you to forget your surroundings and only think of me,” his hands continue to pull the fabric of your shirt higher.

Taehyung continues to slide the length up your arms, nearly flipping the material inside-out – but it’s enough to cover your face entirely. Blocking your sight from seeing anything as it shields you. Your chest rises and falls with early signs of labored breath as the material creates a cone around your (thankfully your arms help keep it loose and not tight) around your head.

“Kitten, I want you to only focus on me. My touch, my voice, my smell,” he lists one right after another with the perfect level of desire.

“– Feel me.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, feeling the heat of your breath envelop your narrow space.

Keeping your eyes open or shut has no difference when you can’t see anything around you. You’re forced to use your other senses as if you’re in survival mode. Every other one heightens their abilities to accommodate the restricted one.

You feel Taehyung’s head move as his body shifts to lay flatter against you. His hands touch you tenderly, but possessively. Making sure that every inch of your undamaged skin gets the attention it deserves.

The chill of his cool fingers almost tickle you with how soft they are when they map their way around your body. Drawing lines and circles as if he’s sketching out his game plan. Rising goosebumps to your skin and hardening your nipples once he slithers his way towards your belly button.

Taehyung smiles to himself, watching the way your body reacts to his minuscule touches. His body slots nicely between your legs, spreading them and leaving your core open for his hand to slide down between you two. He teases the idea of touching you between your lips, using his fingertips to run around your lower region. But he doesn’t dive deeper for you, even when you voluntarily open your legs wider to give him the hint.

“You’re being so good right now,” he comments with a low chuckle. It makes you mewl on the inside, chest tightening at the small praise. Taehyung’s two fingers dip low enough to spread open your lower lips, exposing your pussy to his view. It’s leaking slightly with a shiny sheen of arousal.

“You smell so good right now too.”

Your breath hitches when you feel Taehyung grip your clit between his two fingers. It’s soft, but jolts your body nonetheless. Your hips jerk towards him, body rising as you twitch in your place.

“Shit,” you curse between your teeth.

“Easy,” he warns as he releases your clit, “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, kitten.”

Taehyung leans down as he laughs, lips kissing across the skin of your torso. Your arms twitch, something in you wanting to immediately wrap your arms around him but you know better not to. So you tighten your grip on your headboard’s bar, your nails threatening your skin to forewarn you to stay sane.

To stay alert.

Suddenly, you feel a hot sensation touch your chest. It stings and lingers there in a sparking burn. You twist your body, but Taehyung pins you down.

Another hot feeling hits your skin again, this time between your breasts, and you groan at the impact. You gasp as it trickles down towards your navel, cursing Taehyung’s name as you squirm.

“What is that?” You question through parted lips. Your breath creates a thick air under your shirt, making it harder to breathe comfortably. “Tae?”

“Just pouring some candle wax,” he announces as he drips some more across your left nipple.

You cough at the prickling pain, body begging to be soothed by a cool touch. When the candle wax hardens after it chills, it sticks to your skin as if it belongs there.

Taehyung’s thumb runs across your skin to pluck the dried wax off of you, only to repeat dripping some more in the same areas.

“How does it feel, kitten?” He questions curiously. Taehyung places the candle back down on the table beside the bed, “Do you like it better than my mouth?”

“It’s nice,” you admit as you breathe heavier. Your body feels like it’s under the summer’s sun at its highest point in the sky, melting in the heat of its raging light.

“It’s different,” you add.

Taehyung’s lips skim over your skin, outline the edges of your body as he creeps closer to your neck. His free hand runs over the curves of your side while the other makes its way back down to the junction of your thighs.

You swallow thickly when you feel Taehyung’s head press against your shoulder and neck, inserting himself so he can breathe against the material that separates the two of you.

“And my mouth?” He repeats with a hint of annoyance.

His fingers slide further down, finding the dip of your pussy to swivel his fingertips across the entrance into your vagina. He teases and torments you with the possibility of plunging them straight into your core, but he’s waiting for your response.

“I love your mouth,” you sigh.

Your pussy clenches around nothing yet, just greedy to gain pleasure. Taehyung hums his acknowledgement, smirking into your skin as he applies further pressure with his fingers.

He groans softly while he lays his head against your chest, listening to your rapid beating heart. You’re worked up, being winded tight like a gear cranking to its last knot.

“You better,” he purrs as he finally dips his two fingers into your pussy, “Because you’re making me quite thirsty.”

A moan escapes your mouth when you feel his digits vanish inside of you, touching you against your wet velvet walls. They glide effortlessly, sinking straight to the knuckles before pressing up.

“Fuck,” you slur like an person intoxicated. You haven’t had a lick of alcohol yet you feel the dizzy spins as if you had. It’s just your body trying to comprehend reality.

Taehyung turns his head, shoving his face against your chest to find one of your tits. He mouths the mound, flicking his tongue around your nipple while simultaneously thrusting his digits into you. He pumps slowly, gathering your dripping juice around the base of his fingers while wetting your breast to tease your body.

You moan with pleasure. Trying to battle your inner needs of wanting to move. Needing to follow his guide whichever way he desires to have you. Taehyung sucks in your nipple, twisting it lightly with his teeth and taunting the idea of his fangs piercing you. You keel over, even when pinned down, at the contact. Your shirt becomes like a hot-box of heat; your face tingles with nerves and light traces of sweat. You feel Taehyung as much as he truly wants you to. Exactly how he expects you to.

His palm slides hard into your cunt, knocking your body with the force and waking up your neglected clit. You choke out a moan of pleasure and huff a laugh at yourself.

“Can I taste you?” He smiles against your skin. You know what he’s requesting, and you gladly want to give it to him. “Right here?” He emphasizes with a kiss on the thicker side of your breast.

He also persuades you with the slow rubbing of his fingers pressing into your vaginal canal. It’s enticing, beckoning you to surrender to him.

“Please,” you chuckle. You toss your head to the side, hoping to find an airway that gives you fresher air. “Please bite me.”

Upon request, he takes no chances in wasting time. His teeth sink delicately into your flesh, poking open two puncture wounds to access your warm blood. He groans when the flavor touches his tongue, nearly animalistic at first. Though Taehyung controls that beastly side of him, never losing his focus on getting what he wants all the while he pleasures you to the extreme.

You’d be lying if you said his noises of indulging in your blood scares you. In some way, it fuels your mind that you’re desirable and tasty. At least, it confirms that he’s relying on you at this very moment. That you are needed and wanted.

And knowing this, you smile with the pain. Smirking as creases in your forehead form with anguish from the throbbing wound surrounded by Taehyung’s mouth. He pushes his fingers further in you, using his palm to roll flat against your clit as he sucks in your bleeding blood.

He can hear the way your breath begins to pick up and he likes it. Taehyung continues to bite into another section of your tit without notice, dragging out more blood from you.

“Delicious,” he comments while his tongue laps up a small trail of blood that escapes.

The obvious sucking of your skin slowly bruises from his lavishing lips. But he pulls away momentarily to admire the small grotesque scene.

Your hips roll into the pace of his fingers, cunt clutching with a vise grip. You can feel a coil deep inside of you twisting tighter the more he fingers you. The bed below you shifts as you feel Taehyung move his body to lay between your legs. His lips kiss your hips before descending closer to your pussy as he keeps his fingers lodged in you.

“Is this what you want too?” His voice comes out gravelly as he draws attention to your engorged clit. Blowing softly against it.

You pinch your legs together as much as you can given the fact Taehyung is placed between them. A small whine, very low, comes out of your nose. How your pussy practically sucks his fingers in further, he doesn’t need to hear the words of affirmation to know how badly your body wants him.

“Yes,” you breathe out, “I want it!”

“You want my mouth here?” He asks, annoying you and leading you on at the same time with his teasing.

Taehyung continues to move his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace, but the tiny contact of the tip of his tongue touching your clit for a second – and only one second – has you rolling up into him with fever.

“Yes!” You peep up louder, voice gruff as you practically pant under the fabric of your shirt.

You thrash your head around, trying your damn hardest to obey his silent no touching rule. You huff when you begin to feel his lips on your inner thigh, away from the place you really want him.

“Tae, please put your mouth on me,” you whisper as you jerk your hips towards him.

He giggles to himself when his mouth hovers over the soft flesh of your thigh, using his hand to prop your leg up. You feel the cool lick of his tongue as he tastes your skin again, running his lips over the area as he prepares for his meal.

“Oh, I will,” he says with a smile.

With that, he takes a bite into your thigh. It’s not as rough as the last time, but still, it stings the same. The more you struggle, releasing a sharp yelp from your mouth, the worse the pain becomes. It not only shocks you, but you find yourself immediately shooting your tied hands down towards the area of the prickling burn. Your shirt moves with you, releasing your face into the fresh air of your room and granting you the chance to breathe freely. Your body thrusts up; a call to Taehyung has your eyes watering for a split second until you see the sharp daggers of his blunt red eyes looking up from where he’s latched onto you.

Your hands are centimeters away from his head before you stop yourself from nearly touching him. He startles you with a single look, daring you to defy his command.

Slowly, he releases his mouth from your thigh and his eyes never leave yours. He doesn’t even bother to blink when he withdraws his fingers from you as well. Though you stay there, sitting up in your spot on the bed as Taehyung takes his leisure time to level his head with yours. You feel small pieces of your hair sticking to the sides of your face and back of your neck, but from the way the vampire glares at you – you are sure the rest of the hair on your body sticks straight up.

Blood dribbles down the corner of his parted mouth as Taehyung leans closer to you. If it were any other time you would be admiring the way his luscious black locks have been pushed back from his forehead, exposing his full beauty even in the dimly lit room. But for now you feel like a prey being stalked by its apex predator – cornered with nowhere left to run.

Frozen in place, you muster the courage to blurt out a cracked, “I-I’m sorry!”

Taehyung cups your jaw abruptly, forcing your mouth open with how he places his fingers. The two digits he put inside of your pussy now presses past your teeth and down on your tongue. Forcing you to taste your own flavor.

“I know you are, kitten,” he expresses with a cracked smile. “You just want so much right now, don’t you? But,” Taehyung uses his hold on your head to lean you back down to the pillows, “You’re not allowed to.”

You nod your head as you understand his words. He’s right after all. You practically want everything when it comes to him, don’t you? With the record list between the two of you, it's always Taehyung who has ultimate control.

“Now,” – he grabs your bounded hands once again and lifts them above your head – “I will litter your skin with my bite if you even think about breaking my rule. I will not clean you up. I will not heal you like I did earlier. You’ll be left looking like a mutilated mess. Do you understand me?”

Fucking Hell… You do! You completely and entirely understand him. And you most certainly believe every word spoken.

Why is it that he can say such things and place such control over you and get away with it all? While not one other person in your life can make you break like this… Or make you feel so down and dirty?

“Yes,” you manage to speak with two fingers pressing onto your tongue, “I won’t do it.”

“That’s my good girl,” he coos, removing his fingers from your mouth. “You know when you behave, I give you more.”

“And I like that…” you confess, heat rising to your cheeks.

Taehyung lifts your leg by the underside of your knee to hook around his shoulder. He grins from ear to ear with how you own up to enjoying his treatments. His eyes peer down to the leaking blood from his bite mark, watching how it smears against anything it touches.

“You’ve sedated me for now, my little kitten, but I’ll be coming back for more. That is a promise,” he whispers in his low baritone voice.

He freely removes the button from his pants before sliding his bottoms down enough to release himself. His cock hangs from his body, proud and erect. The length alone can tell anyone that it’s a heavy appendage. His free hand wraps around the base to begin stroking himself as he looks over your naked body. You’re so far beyond distracted that you don’t notice how he stares at you watching him touch himself. Lost in the appreciation of how he touches himself with you in his mind.

You mentally prepare yourself for having his cock impale you. Clenching erratically the more you ponder the way his dick will stretch your pussy open.

“Do you want this?” He quips up the question with a smug smile.

The more he pumps himself, squeezing tightly at the head of his dick, the more his breath begins to match yours. He leans himself closer, bending your leg with his advance toward you. His cock inches away from your cunt makes you wring your hands together.

“Fuck, yes! Yes I do,” you express with passion.

Taehyung slaps the underside of his cock against your spread pussy, tapping it in a taunting manner. He even pushes it roughly against you, mushing his hardened dick on top of your clit and rubbing himself against you.

Your body is so desperate that you’re arching your back and hips to accommodate the angles you need to try and get Taehyung to slip right into your entrance. A poor attempt at getting what you want, even though you’ve clearly stated the obvious.

“Taehyung, please!” you nearly yell at him.

Who cares about your neighbors? Who cares what time it is right now? All you care about is having Taehyung fulfill your carnal desires by plugging you up with his lengthy cock.

A harsh slap hits your asscheek. You whine at the contact while Taehyung groans.

“So eager,” he comments as he angles his cockhead against your entrance. “What happened to being my good girl?” he snorts. “I’ll leave you high and dry. I can make sure you won't finish yourself off either. Is that what you want?”

“No!” you drone. Tossing your head to the side, you purposely expose more of your neck toward him. “I’m just so ready to go – to cum. You can do anything, just please let me cum.”

Taehyung leans down enough to meet your face, his lips brushing against your cheek as he stretches your leg. You can feel the tension of his cock resting right at your hole, hardly enough to break open your wall and slide itself inside. But he gives it to you, just how you want it.

With one tiny push of his hips, Taehyung enters you. Stretching your elastic walls open and diving into your wetness.

“So generous,” he judges. His mouth kisses down your jawline and meets the column of your neck. Blood rushes through your vein that protrudes out enough for him to kiss. “Offering me your neck so freely?” Your heart skips a beat thinking he’ll take the bait and sink his fangs into you, but Taehyung does no such thing. Instead, he softly kisses you right above your pulsepoint. Sucking your skin in a delicate caress as his cock plunges to the hilt.

He fills you up so nicely, so fully. Sometimes it even feels like it’s too much – although right now it feels just right. He feels incredibly right.

You gasp out loud, even stutter a moan as you adjust to his cock. Your nails dig into your palms with the tension built up inside of you. With one single thrust, Taehyung already has your body feeling like it’s levitating. Primed to lift itself all the way to rapturous pleasure.

“Fuck –” you curse with a cloudy brain, “– you feel so good.”

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums as he drags his cock out of you. He waits a moment before sliding himself back in – in one easy stride for his hips to slap into you.

You tighten each and every time he does. Pacing himself to his own beat as his mouth caresses the side of your neck. You’re forced to tense your body with anticipation. Strained like how your vocal cords were the other night when he showed you no mercy.

There’s a particular thrust that has your body jerking toward Taehyung to meet his cock. Whether it be the angle he adjusted himself with or your body finally calling the shots on its own behalf, you’re unsure.

But you do feel the knot building deep inside your abdomen winding itself tighter and tighter. Hardening the longer and harder Taehyung pushes himself up in you, seconds from combusting.

“Do you feel me?” Taehyung quizzes.

His question feels completely stupid… of course you can feel him. How could you possibly not at a time like this?

Taehyung’s hand snakes up to touch your tit, squeezing the round of it and swiping away the trickling bloodspill.

“Yeah, I do…” you groan.

“Good.”

Taehyung leans himself up to get a better look at your body once again. His knees hold his body upright as your leg dangles over his shoulder while the other rests open toward the other side of his body. He grips one hand around your thigh as the other hovers over your lower abdomen. He slants his palm so that his thumb can reach your clit while the rest of his hand can push down against you.

He’s slow and sensual about it while applying pressure to make it feel tighter for you. You dare to peek over at how he looks hovering above you. The candle’s flame does nothing but illuminate his beautiful features in a sexy light. His mouth hangs open as he breathes out short breaths while his hips swing into you naturally.

You can feel yourself losing your vision the closer you’re pushed to the edge of your release. With all the help Taehyung gives you, there are no complications to reaching that divine orgasm.

“I’m gonna – I’m gonna!” you warn with every last bit of rationality inside of you.

Your nails scratch hard into your clenching fists as you’re hit with a wave of tingly delight. Thumping sensations blast through your nerves while heat floods your entire body. You tighten your body as it tries to figure out how to correspond to the sensations, wriggling in your spot as Taehyung holds you firm.

Taehyung’s name leaves your lips in a moan as your body shakes. You sweat and pant while he fucks you through your orgasm, smiling down at your writhing body while he continues to impale you with his cock.

“It’s so lovely to see you enjoying yourself,” he praises. But even he is holding himself back on indulging himself further and from tearing another orgasm out of you. He'll do one right after another if your body will allow it, but he knows you're in no shape for that. Taehyung can feel how you feel.

He slows his strokes as he witnesses streaks of cum dress his thick shaft. Taehyung pulls out only halfway for his palm to wrap around his base to stroke himself.

“W-Why’d you stop?” You turn to look at him with concern.

“You’re tight against me,” he comments as he slightly nudges his cock into you again. “If I pry you open again, it’ll hurt.”

“I can handle it!” You retort. “It’s ok, we’ve done it before!”

Taehyung huffs as his hand continues to jerk the rest of his cock. He stares into your eyes when he recites the word ‘no’ to you. You can feel how his fist smacks lightly into your cunt as he flicks his wrist along his shaft.

“Next time,” he declares in a low tone. You can sense that he’s drawing near to his own climax from the pace of his tugs. “But for right now just lay here and look pretty for me.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Taehyung’s breath to catch up to speed. For his orgasm to roll into him and his semen to spill inside and over your cunt as he pulls out. His short-winded noises breeze into the air around you as he presses his cockhead against his cum, rubbing it messily around the folds of your pussy.

Your pet name drips softly out of his parted lips with a deep groan. Taehyung stares down at the junction of your thighs, admiring the lewd painting he’s created with the mess of you two.

A hand cradles your face while the other begins to untie the scarf around your wrists. He softly strokes your cheek with his thumb, basking in the warmth of your body.

“Do you have anything you can eat in your kitchen? Any natural juices? I’ll grab some while I look around for something to clean you up with.”

The sun begins to beam just a tad through the blinds in your room. The cloudy sky keeps most of the rays at bay, but it serves as a reminder to Taehyung that he must find coverage away from the scorching light when it decides to shine.

“I don’t have much, I usually purchase things from the local convenience store down the road.”

You watch as Taehyung redresses himself as he shuffles around your room. He analyzes his surroundings, peeks at some of your looming decorations and unkept closet and dresser. While he makes himself presentable once again, all you can manage is swiftly pulling the oversized shirt back down your body and ignoring the slippery mess that’s mushed between your thighs.

“Stay,” he orders. His finger points to you.

“Tae, I’m fine. I can walk,” you reassure as you lean up, letting your legs hang off the edge of the bed.

Globs of cum spread more between your thighs the more you move around. But your independence is a hard trait to shake down when you’re used to doing most things on your own.

The second you push up and off the mattress, a swift hand lands on your shoulder to hold you down. Firmly, Taehyung holds you in your sitting position, eyes which turn back to their normal state drills his demand into yours.

“Just… stay. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

Frustration fuels you momentarily. Within a flash, you witness how Taehyung’s body nearly vanishes with unimaginable speed. Your bedroom door swings with the wind once he returns.

A small cup filled with cool water, topped with two ice cubes, is presented before you. One small towel from your bathroom sink is clutched in his other hand. With a pointed look, you take the generous liquid from him as he maneuvers his body closer to you.

“Sip on that for now,” he requests. “And spread your legs so I can clean you up.”

Taehyung is already pushing your thighs apart before you can reject him. Cloth delicately running over your skin and whipping up what remains he’s left on you. The sensitivity that runs through your lower region makes you wince slightly from the pressure of his hand. You tip the glass to your lips, taking a few sips of icy water to cool you down.

It’s weird. Having someone do nearly everything for you. It almost makes you feel useless or unskilled. But that’s the stubborn mindset you’ve gained within your years of growth; adjusting to your world and what experiences you had to endure. The individuality of yourself is what makes you feel important; you never really enjoyed depending on others as guilt washed over you. So you learned to take care of yourself – for the most part. Figuring out life how most try to do, and keep trying to do.

But as you stare at the way Taehyung, a man you are slowly getting to know – someone who is completely willing to sweep you off your feet and treat you like you’re untouchable to everyone but him, takes care of you… You begin to feel the slightest of ease when you allow him to take control. Not allowing you to lift a single finger.

“All clean,” Taehyung comments with his soothing voice. He inspects the wound on your thigh, tracing the outline of his bite with his forefinger. “I hope you don’t mind me leaving these here. It’ll be a nice reminder for you.”

You feel heat prick at your cheeks from his statement. A flush of embarrassment creeping out from within.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” you murmur under your breath.

He cracks a smile at that, surely pleased with himself. Taehyung gently tosses the used towel towards a pile of laundry you’ve yet to wash while returning his attention back toward you.

“I want to give you something,” he begins. His hand slips through a pocket in his jacket to pull out his wallet. He flips through the folds until his fingers land on a plastic card, yanking it out and handing it over to you. “Take this and treat yourself while I’m gone. Whatever you want or need.”

You stare at the credit card with a dumbfounded look to your face. With a quick shake of your head, you automatically decline the offer.

“I don’t need that,” you state.

As your hand pushes him away, somehow, Taehyung fiddles his fingers with yours. Managing to slip the card from his grasp and into yours. He squeezes your palm around the thin card, not taking rejection for an answer.

“Keep it, you need to get yourself some proper groceries. Unless you want me to send over a servant to do it for you. Your choice.”

“... This doesn’t feel much like a choice.”

Taehyung huffs a laugh, patting your head with amusement. His smile could light up the night sky when he’s like this; getting his way that is.

“Tae, I really can’t take this –”

“– Kitten, I want you to have this,” he reasons. His hand slides down the side of your face and cups your jaw. “I won’t be around for the next few days. But consider this as a part of your ‘adjusting’. Get used to me wanting to pamper you and please, let me take care of you.”

You blink up into Taehyung’s eyes that flicker in the dim candle light left on your bedside table. The softening sun rays glow in your room as light rain trickles against the windows. Taehyung looks not only handsome but he also looks more real. Especially when the shadows on his face somehow add warmth to his complexion and his beautiful eyes soften with genuinity.

There’s a feeling in your heart that strains against giving in to such a proposal. Even though the idea of having everything done for you sounds pleasing, wouldn’t it become boring to have no reason? To not do something on your own? Would the constant displays of service become not enough and unsatisfying for you in the end?

Any normal person would say this is something too good to be true. To take up on the offer. But there is something blocking you from fully accepting Taehyung.

You’re not ready yet.

Taehyung sighs out of his nostrils when you remain mute. He straightens his posture and retracts his hand from your jawline.

“It’s there if you need it,” he references to the card still in your hand. “I placed my contact information in your phone also.” Taehyung turns to leave your room, talking over his shoulder to you as he departs.

Something pulls against your heart as you see his back fade further away from you.

“Wait!” You frantically stand up. You take nearly three steps until you run into the back of Taehyung who freezes in his spot, twisting his head to look down at you. Your fist manages to grab a hold of the sleeve to his jacket, alerting him with a quick tug. “I’m sorry!” – you begin with uncertainty in your voice – “I just… I just don’t know what’s happening. What could happen. I don’t know what this all means or what will come of this.”

“Kitten,” Taehyung quietly speaks. “I’ve already told you. I’ll give you whatever you want. I can see you need to process it more and I won’t rush you. Sadly, I must head out. The day isn’t a vampire’s friend. But do know, little kitten,” he takes a finger and dances it along the length of your arm and down towards your wrist. Taehyung lifts the back of your hand to his mouth, placing an everlasting kiss to your skin. “You’re already mine.”

Moodboard inspiration and credits fully to @caelesjjk

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