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jjkeverlast · 8 months

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seven days a week | jjk (m)

>> pairing jungkook x fem!reader

>> genre/au's friends with benefits to lovers | college AU | smut | crack

>> summary jeon jungkook has always had crazy ideas, but wanting to fuck you every day of the week was the last thing you expected.

>> word count 3.4k

>> author's note first of all i just wanna say again, happy birthday to the birthday boy jungkook and omg guys seven days a week has officially come to an end! thank you for showing so much love to this silly little drabble series. 🩷 also i'm not sorry for using that pic of jungkook for the banner...

masterlist for seven days a week

The constant ringing beside you is what causes you to stir awake in your sleep, Jungkook’s face resting in the crook of your neck. You squint one eye open, realizing it’s dark outside. Groaning as you stretch, you realize it isn’t your phone that’s ringing but Jungkook’s.

“Koo.” You mumble, running your fingers through his hair to wake him up gently after your nap, that may have turned into a full night sleep instead.

“Mhm.” He nuzzles his nose further against your skin, breathing in your scent as you feel his smile starting to stretch against it.

“Your phone is ringing.” You explain, voice a tad hoarse.

Jungkook doesn’t move, only his arm reaching over his one night stand to fiddle after the constant buzzing. When his hand lands flatly on his phone, he grabs it, not in the mood to check and puts it against his ear.

“Hello?” The moment another voice rings through it, Jungkook moves up and walks out of the bedroom. You don’t question him, hearing it’s his mother talking to him.

While he strolls directly to the living room, you take the time to bring some light in his room. You check the time, realizing it’s a bit past midnight. It takes you by complete surprise by how you and Jungkook were able to sleep for so long.

You also quickly realize you have to use the bathroom, and that’s when you walk out to do so only to hear—

“Thank you for the birthday wish, mom. Miss you too.” He speaks softly.

Wait, it’s Jungkook’s birthday today? You halt in your steps, considering if you should ask further but you go against it, proceeding to go to the bathroom.

When you walk back into the bedroom, Jungkook is changing the covers with a smile pampering his face.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” He bites back a giggle, and that’s when you can’t help but ask.

“Sorry, it wasn’t meant for me to overhear, but is it your birthday today?” You ask with caution, careful not to overstep. After all you and Jungkook just started ‘this’ and it’s still new, therefore the last thing you want is to cross boundaries and make Jungkook uncomfortable.

In regards to that, Jungkook surprises you by walking up to you and pulling you by the waist, letting your foreheads touch and support against each other.

“It is.” He confirms, smiling much wider now.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook.” You wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your noses together which creates a slight tickle.

“Thank you, baby.” He pecks your lips slowly, embracing the warmth from your shared kiss.

When he slowly pulls away, his eyes are still closed.

“How do you want to spend your… night?”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” His eyes pop open when he realizes he has more than a whole day ahead of him, his birthday barely starting.

The expression on Jungkook’s face is comical, causing you to laugh against his cheek as you rub your hand on his back in circles.

“I wanna eat fried chicken.”

The only fried chicken shop that’s open right now, is a good ten minute walk from here but if it’s Jungkook’s wish, you’re happy to accompany him to create the best ‘day’ for him.

“Then, let’s go.”

Jungkook’s face brightens at your comment, excitement already increasing as you both get ready to step out of the door. He’s kind enough to lend you some clothes that fit your size. The air a bit more chilly now as the night has settled in.

The hoodie smells like Jungkook, as you swallow your face into it, stepping out of his apartment with him trailing behind.

Namjoon is apparently first arriving early in the morning, so for the night it’ll be just you and Jungkook and a lot of fried chicken to digest.

With hands intertwined, Jungkook swings your arm back and forth as you walk excitedly to the 24 hour open shop.

“Are you planning to go to Busan tomorrow?” You ask, remembering that it’s his hometown, and surely his family must want him home and celebrate him as he deserves.

“Yeah, my mom also called to double check if I’m able to. I’ve done it since I moved to Seoul, hence why I’m so excited today as well. I’ve really missed my parents… And Bam.”

“Bam?”

“My dog! I’m not able to have him in the apartment with Namjoon due to the rules in the building, so my parents promised to take good care of him.” The conversation results in Jungkook sharing and showing you endless pictures and videos of Bam.

You coo as you watch the close up videos of Bam booping his nose against the camera when Jungkook calls his name.

“I would be excited too if that was waiting for me at home.”

Jungkook is quick to agree with your comment, and shortly after, you’ve reached the destination. Since it’s his birthday, you’re offering to pay, Jungkook quickly shutting down your kind gesture but you’re having none of it. Your stubbornness is worse than his, causing you to win against him and pay the older man who owns the shop.

Jungkook decides he’d rather eat it at home, which is why you carry a big white plastic bag on the way back. The smell accompanies you the whole way, stomachs grumbling the closer you reach Jungkook’s apartment.

Finally entering the warmth of Jungkook’s place, you squeeze yourselves in the kitchen to grab the necessities. Jungkook tries to push you away whenever you want to help, because ‘it’s my day, I decide.’ Which is true, but you want to do more for his birthday.

Finally, you sit by the edge of the couch, opening the white box filled with fried chicken. Jungkook hands you a glove, before diving in himself and munching down on the crunchy food. You join him later, salivating at how good it tastes and how the flavors mold nicely together.

Jungkook wanted every kind of dip, which explains why there’s an exact number of eight dips sprawled on the coffee table. He’s not even dipping one fried chicken in one, no, he’s taking a bit of each. The action causes you to stifle a weirded out expression.

“How come one dip isn’t enough for you?”

Jungkook becomes offended, raising an eyebrow. “How come you think you’re allowed to speak in regards to that? Hmm?” The tone he uses shows he’s forcing himself to ‘play’ annoyed rather than actually being it. You find it cute, therefore you pinch his cheek with your clean hand.

“Just eat your food.”

The following hour, you eat in silence, Jungkook moaning and complimenting the food with every bite. It’s a peaceful and endearing activity. The longer you hang out with Jungkook, the more you’re grateful that you took that risk Friday, by finally admitting what you’ve always felt for him.

Slowly but surely, the food disappears and rests peacefully in your stomachs. Jungkook wants to digest by watching the newest k-drama available on Netflix, and you condone, letting him watch whatever pleases him.

It results in you both laying together on the couch, Jungkook has his head on your lap, stroking your knee with his tattooed hand. Your fingers run through his hair, soothing him slowly as the drama evolves on the screen in front of you.

“Is there anything else you’d like tonight?”

“A warm shower.” He stretches, changing position so he faces you directly.

“Okay.” You’re about to move aside to let him shower in peace, but Jungkook takes you by surprise once more. When isn’t he full of surprises?

“Join me?” He asks softly, doe eyes staring up at you and how can you say no?

“Sure.” You smile at him, cupping his cheek and rubbing down on the scar gently. He leans his face towards your warm palm, closing his eyes for a bit and you notice every small detail about Jungkook’s face. The length of his eyelashes, the mole under his lip, the paired silver lip rings and his boopable nose. Everything about Jeon Jungkook is mesmerizing.

Carefully, you trace the tip of your finger on every curve and edge of his face. The skin is soft against it, the edges of his lips are a bit wet as you press. Jungkook opens his eyes, kisses the pad of your finger and moves you both upwards to scurry to the bathroom.

Jungkook opens the shower door, turning the water on hot while you lock the door behind you. The sound begins to erupt in the small bathroom of water running down. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to throw his hoodie and t-shirt off in one go, exposing his well built abs and full tattooed sleeve for your eyes.

You gulp, feeling hot by the sight of his body in such a natural situation. You clear your throat, distracting yourself by removing your own clothes. A shower is needed for both of you, forgetting to do so yesterday after having sex deciding on a nap instead.

Jungkook is first to enter the shower, his broad and built back turned to you. You want to touch and feel but hold yourself back, following suit. The warm water hits you both, easing you down the longer you stand under it. Jungkook has his arm wrapped around you, as he uses his free hand to prevent you from getting water in your eyes.

Instead, you both turn around, the water trailing effortlessly fast down on Jungkook’s chest and further down to his abs. The sight is indescribable. The droplets compliment his skin, making everything more prominent for you. Jungkook is pushing his hair back with a free hand, closing his eyes as he covers his face completely. His adam’s apple moves when your hands land on his chest, caressing him under the circulating warmth. Jungkook removes his face from the shower head, his gaze fixated on you instead.

He doesn’t question your sudden touch on him, it feels nice. Having you touch him so gently and in total admiration. Jungkook wouldn’t love it any different.

“Can I wash your hair?” You ask, wanting to do something for him. Jungkook simply nods, handing you the shampoo for you to use. With that, you pour some down on your palm and bring it up to his hair, massaging the soft strands as they straighten under the pressured water.

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, loving how you don’t miss a single spot, massaging his scalp gently as the shampoo regains a foamy consistency. You ask him to turn around, making sure the longer strands on the nape of his neck are taken care of as well. He turns back around, winking your way when he notices how concentrated you look. You roll your eyes, slapping him lightly.

“All good.” You confirm, “close your eyes.” Jungkook obeys, and you grab his jaw so he’s placed back towards the shower head to wash off the excess. The white bubbles trail down Jungkook’s body when you rinse out his hair. Jungkook is wearing a tight lipped smile, eyes crinkling as he has them fully shut and the sight is adorable, your heart almost does a whole flip.

Succeeding your mission with Jungkook’s hair, you proceed and wash the upper part of his body. Jungkook has a yellow luffa hanging beneath all the products. You grab onto it, squeezing some vanilla scented body wash and scrub on Jungkook’s sleeve. You move from his shoulder blade to his chest, moving downwards to his abs and that’s when you hear a hiss from Jungkook. You lock eyes, Jungkook’s mouth agape by how your movements have slowed down, now only moving further down.

“Baby.” He mumbles, leaning forward to kiss you but you want to play this for a little longer, enjoying his reactions a tad bit much.

“Let me wash your back.” Your fingers are gripping onto his waist, indicating you need him to turn and Jungkook mumbles to himself, hiding his face from you.

“Fucking tease.”

You hear the words loud and clear, giggling shamelessly because he’s absolutely right. You are a tease. Even though it’s his birthday, he’ll never be able to avoid you wanting to mess around just a tiny bit for fun.

You don’t notice until now how much you’ve been craving to touch Jungkook’s back. The sight has you at loss for words. He’s so… broad, yet his waist is tiny and that has your brain spiraling. Jungkook moves his arm to scratch a spot by his neck, revealing his muscle moving and retracting in a short second. You’re close to dropping the luffa, too stunned to proceed with your fun little game because quite frankly, Jeon Jungkook might be the death of you.

It’s as if Jungkook notices how you’ve completely stopped, causing his head to turn to gain a peak. “Is there something wrong?”

“Why are you so… hot?” You don’t mean to blurt it out, but it’s said, out in the open in the middle of Jungkook’s shower.

“I— I mean.” You try to cover up how raw and honest that comment was, especially when Jungkook sports that ridiculous grin that signals you’ve boosted his ego. Hiding your embarrassment, you proceed to scrub his back, tracing your hands down his spine in awe. Jungkook suddenly begins to feel your nails scraping on the lower half of his back. You’re unaware of your own actions, mind too caught up with what’s in front of you, until Jungkook lets out a small moan.

“Fuck.”

Your ears perk up by the sudden noise, about to retract your fingers until Jungkook pushes against your touch, a way for him to tell you to continue. You don’t question it, grazing your fingers from his lower back and following his spine upwards. Jungkook lets out a huff of air, leaning his head backwards as the water hits his face harshly.

Every movement of yours causes Jungkook to grow hot in front of you. He tries not to show it, but it’s noticeable with the way he’s giving himself completely to your touch. It doesn’t help you either how you’re able to touch him this way, so gently yet so intimately.

Jungkook has grown impatient, turning around swiftly and grabbing your jaw to kiss you. His mouth is wetter than usual, met with your own as your tongues graze against each other. You accidentally drop the luffa down to the tiled floor, both hands roaming on his chest and abs instead as your heads tilt in a synchronized rhythm.

He catches you off guard when his own hand travels down to your ass, gripping it harshly so you land flatly against him. The soap from Jungkook’s body melts onto yours as you grope each other shamelessly.

When Jungkook stops kissing you, he grabs your nape to keep your gaze fixated on his. He wants to watch every reaction of yours when his hand soon enough touches your core. Your eyebrows furrow by the action, biting down on your lip when his fingers slide in between your lips, not surprised that you’re already wet.

Jungkook smirks, playing with your clit as your face morphs completely due to the intense pleasure he’s causing.

“F—Fuck.” Your hold on his chest tightens, nails sinking into his skin. Jungkook groans by how roughly you’re touching him.

Seeing you already so messy by his fingers causes Jungkook to grow hard. You notice, as your gaze quickly runs down and up again to see Jungkook’s darkened gaze.

Therefore, you reciprocate, grabbing onto his cock and stroking him slowly. You’re both moaning against each others lips, overwhelmed by not only the intense pleasure but the warmth from the water making this completely different than any other time you’ve had sex.

“Turn around.” Jungkook orders.

You stop touching him, turning around and bending slightly, knowing where this will lead. Thankfully, you’re able to support yourself with both hands on the wall. Jungkook positions himself behind you, biting down your earlobe as he slides in with ease.

“This fucking pussy.” Jungkook breathes out, loss for words when you wrap around him so perfectly. It’s almost as if you were made for him.

You lean your forehead against the wall, eyes watching Jungkook slowly easing out and in of you again. Whenever his tip is about to leave you, you clench and Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens.

The water is still running between your bodies, Jungkook watching how droplets of water paint the curve of your ass nicely along with your naked back. Jungkook runs his hands on your skin, quickening his thrusts.

The skin slapping sounds are more wet than usual, the water jumping along with each thrust from Jungkook’s end. He feels himself enjoying this much more than all those times he’s seen you from behind.

Something about your body being completely soaked as he fucks into you, has Jungkook spiraling. He’s out of control, teasing you with his intense thrusting that slows down whenever you’re close to a high.

Jungkook wants to keep himself buried inside of you if he could, and internally wishes he never finishes.

You make it harder for him when you push back towards him, the movements growing harsher and more rough. The more you push back, the closer Jungkook feels he’s on edge.

“Don’t move.” Jungkook manages to say before he’s moaning again when you stop, half of his cock leaving your warm heat.

Before Jungkook continues, he reaches his hand down to play with your clit, just like how you love it. Your hand joins his, holding it there for support as your legs are almost about to give out.

“Fuck me. Please Jungkook—“ You plead and Jungkook bites back a groan, before doing so. His body meets yours smoothly, cock filling you up to the brim.

The intensity grows again, the orgasm you so desperately chase for, seeping through the corner.

“Yes— Keep going.” You mumble, completely out of it, mind hazy and eyes barely able to stay open. Jungkook doesn’t waste a second, holding you tightly to fuck you just like you deserve.

The minute you’re about to reach your high, you look behind you, noticing how Jungkook’s head is leaned back paired with a mouth open. Fuck. The sight is what does it for you, coming undone all over his cock. As you clench again when you come undone, Jungkook feels his own orgasm approach him.

He removes his hand from your clit, gripping both sides of your hips, chasing his own high.

“Fucking hell, baby.” You hear behind you, right before the last thrust falters and Jungkook’s cock twitches inside of you, filling you up completely.

Slowly, Jungkook slides out of you, helping you even though your body has given out completely due to tiredness.

It’s funny how the roles switch as soon as you’ve had sex. Jungkook ends up taking care of you next, washing every inch of your body as you fix your hair.

When you’re both pleased with the shower, you walk out drying yourselves. Jungkook giggles when you wrap a towel against his head and ruffle his hair with it. Your cheeks hurt from smiling too much, Jungkook joining you on that end.

Despite it being three in the morning when you’re both done, Jungkook is still wide awake wanting to watch the next episode to the k-drama from earlier. You don’t hesitate to agree.

Both of you end up sitting in new clothes, wrapped up in a big blanket.

One thing that’s dangerous about k-dramas is the length of each episode, and the constant cliffhanger they leave you with. It results in you and Jungkook staying awake up until the sounds of keys ruffle from outside and someone steps inside the apartment.

You’re guessing it’s Namjoon, and you’re right when he tip toes into the living room, thinking Jungkook is fast asleep.

“What the fuck?!” Namjoon almost screams, not expecting to see you both awake at not even seven in the morning.

“Good morning roomie!” Jungkook greets with an overly excited voice. You’re pretty certain it’s because he’s overtired at this point.

“H-hi?” Namjoon questions, not expecting for them to have a guest. “Who’s…”

“This is Y/N.” Jungkook says casually and Namjoons’ frown turns quickly to a smile.

“So you’re Y/N. What a pleasure.” Namjoon reaches over to shake your hand and you smile, repeating his own words.

“Now how did this happen? I mean weren’t you guys just… You know?”

You quirk an eyebrow, surprised Namjoon knows anything about yours and Jungkook’s earlier relationship.

“Well. It’s funny you ask.” Jungkook starts off and you already have a bad feeling about this.

“It started with me convincing her I could fuck her everyday for a week straight and—“

“Jungkook!”

taglist for this series;

@royallyjjk @fandems @lukeys-giggle @junniesoleilkth @katie-tibo @effielumiere @babigriin @cocopuffsilove @exactlygreatcoffee @shameless-army @frieschan @fairy-jaykay @thvhoe @taebangtanbabe @parkjammys @bloopkook @canyon-lwt @borahaexoxo @iffyleafy @kookswifesblog @astralmono @skzthinker @joonblogz @evajeonsworld @justanotherkpopstanlol @younhakim29 @needausernamepl @rinkud @jungkookie94 @revluvexo-ls @jiminswh0re @kimsharon-2430 @chimmisbae @jjkluvcloudsworld @laylasbunbunny @queen-in-the-shadows @moonstar127 @ediary2 @whatfandomnow @jimmeojimin @ikpopwriting @burnahtsw @jkslaugh97 @hopeworldjimin @hoseokteardrop @justaprettywriter @gummymintae

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#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fic #bts jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook drabble #jungkook drabble

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topichoon · 2 months

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All Mine - Sim Jaeyun

Genre: smut, angst, and friends to lovers trope

Pairing: bestfriend!jake x fem!reader

Warnings: pet names, oral sex (f and m receiving), traditional sex, face fucking, hair pulling, drinking, jake is a bit jealous, curse words, jake says whore and slut to the reader, but only like once or twice, more…?

A/N: I got inspo from the song “All Mine” by PLAZA for the title. So I kinda based the story off of the vibes i got from the song ig?

“Guys we’re gonna be late!” Yunjin yells from down the hall.

I finish putting on my silk black dress on. Which hugs my curves perfectly and makes my ass look good. But can’t forget about my tits, they are practically pouring out of the top.

I haven’t seen my childhood best friend in forever. It’s been about 4 years since I’ve seen him. Jake. I obviously want to impress him because the last time he saw me…let’s just say I looked rough.

I take one final deep breath looking in the full length mirror, my ysl heels topped with my painted toe nails. Along with my fresh acrylic set I got done yesterday, the sparkling gems looking expensive just like me. My long silky smooth hair freshly curled.

I make my way downstairs to the front door where my friends are waiting. I watch there’s eyes widen and smiles brighten when they notice me.

“Damn! Girl you are not playing around tonight!” Sakura says shocked looking me up and down.

“It’s cause Jake’s gonna be there~” Kazuha mumbles but loud enough for all of us to hear.

My pupils dilate just from hearing his name. I wonder how he looks like now, the last time I saw him he was honestly pretty shy and innocent.

“I knew you had a reason to be looking this sexy tonight. Even though you do every day but especially tonight.” Chaewon giggles while smirking to herself.

I blush slightly the heat on my cheeks burning my skin. We all walk outside to the limo parked out front. I sit down on the squishy seat putting my bag to the side. Yunjin almost immediately grabs a pack of sour gummy worms which makes us all laugh.

“Ayy don’t judge me! These things are too good to not eat right away.” She playfully rolls her eyes at us.

We all laugh together in unison. I take out my phone to see a text notification pop up. It’s Jake. I lick my lips anxiously and open up the message.

Jakey 😛: Hey Y/nnnie! I can’t believe I’m gonna finally see you tonight after all that time. I still got my matching bracelet on from when we were young.

Me: Jakey hi! Omg same it’s been forever! Awww so do I! But what if you’re lying send a pic for proof😡

Jakey 😛: hmm fine *1 attachment*

WHAT THE FUCK! When did he get this attractive??!

Jakey 😛: gonna keep admiring me or are you gonna send a pic for proof as well?

Me: nahh I’m not sending one you’ll see me at the party anywaysss. Gotta keep it a suprise can’t make you get a boner before the party even starts

Jakey 😛: oh whatever y/nnieee you’re probably wet just looking at that picture of me. I know it :)

Well he wasn’t wrong…but what is wrong is us talking like this. I mean we’ve had conversations like this when we were younger and more rebellious. But we aren’t even that close anymore so I don’t know what his intentions are.

Me: yaaaaaa, no. I’m most definitely not 👎 nice try though jakey

Jakey 😛: whatever makes you sleep at night 😇

Me: 😒 you’re no fun. Well I’m almost at the party so bye byeeee

Jakey 😛: bye y/nnie 😉

The limo pulls up to Heeseung’s mansion filled with a bunch of people partying. We all get out and take in the atmosphere. Walking through the front door we all get greeted by the Lee Heeseung.

“Hey ladies thanks for showing up. Oh y/n is that you?” Heeseung looks at me almost as if he is observing me.

“Yep that’s me.” I nod slowly still unsure why he asked me that.

“Damn,” Heeseung bites his lip looking me up at down “well Jake was waiting for you inside. He’s one lucky fucker that’s for sure, to have such a hot girlfriend like you.” Heeseung smirks.

“Oh we aren’t dat-“ I say before I get cut off by someone standing behind me.

“Yeah I am very lucky. Now please leave my girlfriend alone, thank you.” Jake says in a low tone.

Heeseung quickly walks the other way while me and Jake walk through the front door together. My friends already finding men to chat it up with. While on our way in I look at Jake.

“Why did you say that we were dating?” I question him curiously.

“Y/n. He is a pervert and I wouldn’t want him taking advantage of you. Especially not here, he isn’t a good guy to be around.” He sighs still keeping his firm grip around my waist.

I nod slowly still taking in all of this information. I remember heeseung during grade 8, the last year before I had to transfer to a different school. He was a goody two shoes, never let any girl cross his path. Too school focused maybe all that studying finally broke him.

Jake and I make our way to the dance floor where he finally loosens his grip on me. Now I take the time to really soak him up. His brown eyes feeling as if they are burning right through my skin. His soft fluffy hair that I so wish I could run my hair through right now. But can’t since my hands are trapped between our bodies. Finally, his lips. I always had wondered how they would be like to kiss.

They are so plush, soft, and smooth. Would he be a soft or aggressive kisser? Oh how I wish I could see for myself. I’m not quite sure if he ever has got around, but from his looks I would assume he definitely has. How could he not have girls practically drooling over him. I mean I have only been with him for about a couple minutes and my self respect is already long gone.

“My eyes are up here y/n~” he smirks and points up to his eyes.

Although his eyes weren’t the same as they were when I previously had looked at them. They were full of lust and need, but I can’t quite make out who they are for. Could it be for me? It can’t possibly be for me, I’m not even half as pretty as the girls from his school.

Jake travels his hands around my body. Along with his eyes, moving wherever but landing on a particular spot. My boobs. I decide to tease him just like he did.

“My eyes are up here Sim~” I say in a mocking tone. Although Jake just laughs deeply.

“Well my eyes don’t wanna go up there, I think they like where they are right now.” He teases right back.

But this time I don’t even know what to say back. This was not the same Jake I knew before I left. He’s no longer shy or innocent, he’s confident and way far from innocent.

“Cat got your tongue?” He finally moves his eyes up to mine and locks his gaze onto mine. Eyes so sharp I swear they could cut glass.

I decide to not say anything and test the waters a little bit, because if he can tease then I can too. I bring his hand up more so now it’s resting on my tit. Looking up into his eyes with my doe ones.

Instead of him being disgusted he enjoys it. Squeezing onto the flesh softly just to get a reaction out of me.

“You’ve matured a lot y/n,” he admires my whole body slowly, taking time to look at every inch of me. “and your face..so beautiful and gorgeous.” He looks up at my face.

I feel my cheeks burning up which I can guarantee is visible to Jake. I just hope the bright strobe lights don’t make it obvious on my face. We stay like this for a few minutes bodies so close together, no room even for air to come through. Our arms tangled, mine in his hair while his rest on all different places of me body.

My friends and his walk up to us. Making it clear that they have had their fair share of drinks tonight. “Guysss let’s play spin the bottleeee!” Jay tries to yell but his voice gives out at the end.

We agree and all walk over to the floor in the open living room. We all sit down gathering around an open and empty beer bottle. Sunghoon to my left and Jake to my right.

“Alright I’ll spin first.” Sunghoon announces. Spinning the bottle it of course lands on me. My eyes widen and I curl my lips anxiously.

“Make out with her on your lap!” Kazuha screamed.

Sunghoon makes eye contact with me and immediately smirks. Patting down on his thighs for me to get on top of him. I move over settling my whole weight on him.

He grabs my face and brings me in. Placing his lips on mine and kissing very aggressively, that is basically too aggressive to the point where it’s uncomfortable. I kiss back trying to match the same rhythm.

What I don’t notice is next to me sits a jealous Jake watching with anger. His fists clenched together tightly. He can barely watch he is getting too worked up. It’s not even his girlfriend but yet he feels extremely jealous.

“Okay times up.” Jake glares at Sunghoon still kissing me.

I get myself off of him a little too soon. “Was the kiss that bad y/n?” Yunjin asks me confused.

“Huh? Oh n-no it was good…really good.” I lie but everyone but Jake believes it. Jake is super good at seeing right through me. He smirks to himself at the fact that he knows for sure I didn’t enjoy it.

We do a few more rounds before it comes to the end. There is one more round left and it is Jake’s turn. He spins the bottle and surprise it lands on….me. He turns to me with a proud look on his face.

“You know how about we spice things up a little bit. Jake and Y/n 20 minutes in heaven.” Kazuha insists.

“Kazuha what? Isn’t it 7 minutes in heaven, not 20??” Sakura asks a little confused.

“Yes it is. Buttttt, 7 minutes is not enough time to get it all on so we need to give them more time.” Kazuha says with a sly grin on her face.

She signals Jake and I off and so we do. He is quick to put my hand into his, leading us upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms in Heeseung’s huge house.

We make it up to the room and he shuts the door behind me locking the handle. He mumbles a quick fuck before sitting back down on the bed. He rolls his head back and groans. I look at him confused why all of a sudden he would make such a sound.

He sees he got my attention and smirks. “Look at what you did to me. I had to deal with this the whole night Y/n.” He points at his hard groin. The fabric becoming to tight on him it feels like his cock is going to explode.

Instead of replying I walk up to him getting on top of him, straddling his lap and leaning in closer. Closing any gap that we have to be as close as humanly possible. I press my lips against his and he almost immediately kisses back. Our lips moving perfectly together not too slow and not too fast. Just right, the two of us together. Like two puzzle pieces connected at last.

He doesn’t waste no time before forcing his tongue into my mouth. Letting him take the lead sneakily move my hands to the buttons on his suit. Working as fast as I can to unbutton every single one. I finally get the last button done with and slide his shirt off throwing it onto the ground.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” He pulls away looking at his shirt already off. I nod desperately which turns him on even more. He’s never seen this side of me ever which makes him excited to see what else he’ll get to see of me tonight.

“Lay back.” I demand trying to sound forceful but say it with a whine instead.

He doesn’t waste no time before following what I said. He puts his hands behind his head, his eyes following to see what I’m going to do. The excitement sparks behind his eyes, but also filled with tons of curiosity.

I trace my tongue along his abs. Swirling it around every ab. His body tenses from the wetness of my tongue moving all over him. I unbutton his pants and lower down his boxers, to reveal a hard, thick, and long cock that springs right out slapping against his stomach. My mouth waters at the sight. I pepper kisses all along the tip and swirl my tongue along it.

Before taking it in, I’m not even halfway there before I start gagging from his size. “Doing so good f’me y/n..” he whines out. I open my mouth wider to take more of him.

“Yeah that’s it— take all of me baby.” Jake groans out loudly. His words make me wet and unbearably horny. I start bobbing my head up and down on his dick. I finally take all of him making him let out a lot of whines and groans.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop..” he pants out heavily. His body tightens and he breaths even heavier. “F-fuck I’m close baby” he starts thrusting himself into my mouth.

His thrusts get more aggressive, signaling me he’s close. “Just like that— I’m so close” he manages to get out.

And just like that he comes all in my mouth. “Mhm, swallow it y/nnie~” he rasped. I do as he says taking it all down in one go.

He sits up and unzips my dress. Pulling it over my head and starts peppering kisses all along my chest area. Yeah he’s a boob guy for sure. I watch him as he looks at me as if I’m a literal goddess. His long fingers unclasping my bra as quickly as possible.

Taking in one of my tits in his mouth. Desperately sucking on it like the needy boy he is, and always will be.

“Bet sunghoon would never make you feel this good.” Jake mumbles leaving marks all along my breasts.

“Why, are you jealous jakey?” I smirk looking at him.

“Oh, y/n, you know you shouldn’t tease me.” He warns me looking at me as well.

I giggle as I watch him go over to my other tit to give it attention as well. Sucking so hard it’s sure to leave marks the next day. He plays with my other nipple with his fingers.

I moan and pull his hair harder as he reaches his hand down into my panties. “I would be quiet if I were you, don’t want everyone to know how much of a slut you are.” His eyes and tone dark.

I try using his hand to get off but he quickly catches on. “Such a whore, using my hand to make yourself cum. Be patient and I’ll give it to you baby.” He assures and plays with my clit. Rubbing it in slow circles.

“F-faster, please…” I whine out to him rolling my head back. He goes faster and I moan digging my ankles into his back. He slips in a finger pumping in and out of my core.

“Fuck baby— you’re so tight.” He puts in another finger making sure to stretch me out enough to make him fit.

He plunges his fingers at a fast rhythm. As I feel my high approaching I grip onto his hair harder while driving my feet deeper into his back.

“I-im gonna cum..don’t stop..” I beg breathing heavily.

“You can do it, cum for me y/n.” He now looks into my eyes while thrusting his fingers as deep as they can go.

Seeing him with those innocent puppy eyes while his fingers are far inside me makes me go insane. He continues pounding inside me until I finally reach my climax.

“F-fuck…I’m coming!!” I cry out. Fat tears rolling down my face as he helps me ride out my high.

“Such a good girl f’me..” he whispers in my ear slow and seductively.

He picks me up and places me underneath him. Now I’m facing him on top of his cock. I run his cock against my pussy feeling the pleasure. He grabs my hips and lifts me up slightly lining me up with his cock.

“Do you want me to wear a condom?” He asks me with concern. I shake my head which makes his eyes widen.

“I’m on the pill, I’ll be fine jakey.” I reassure him quickly. He exhales and smiles at me.

“You see…I’ve never had sex before..” he admits shyly. Oh so he is still shy..cute.

“Wait really? I thought you did..” I giggle at my misunderstanding.

He shakes his head “nope I was waiting for the right person, which is you.” He smirks all of a sudden his shyness going away.

I slowly slide myself down onto his cock. Making sure to relax and take deep breaths to ease the pain. His thickness stretching me out greatly.

He makes sure to say encouraging words to help me take my mind off of everything “doing so good y/n” “yeah— that’s it” and “fuck..keep going”

“Oh f-fuck,” he whines out now that I’ve fully taken him “you’re so tight f’me” he pants out.

I take my time and rock my hips forwards and backwards keeping a steady pace. As I get used to the uncomfortable feeling it quickly goes away as the pleasure increases.

“I’m ready..” I pant heavily. He smirks and grips my hips tighter speeding my pace up.

I ride him harder as I get more familiar with this feeling. The room filled with the both of our whines and moans. I bounce myself up and down his large cock which drives him over the edge.

As my legs start getting tired he notices and is quick to flip my underneath him. He groans sliding himself as deep as he possibly can. His cock thrusting into me slowly making sure I still feel comfortable, before starting to understand my body more and goes harder.

His cock pounding in and out of me at a merciless rhythm. His size stretching my tight little pussy out, it’s almost as if I was made for his cock. His balls slapping hard against my ass as he continues plunging into my damp gummy walls.

“I’m s-so..so close jakey!” I whine out to him between moans.

“Oh yeah? So am I let’s cum together..on the count of 5..” he rasps not letting down his pace one bit.

Jake fucks into me hard but the pain is so good. “5…” he whispers to me. His fingers digging deep into my hips bouncing me on and off his dick.

“4” Jake breaths shakily clearly struggling with this countdown. I roll my hips and squeeze my eyes together from the pleasure.

“That’s it…3..” he growls looking at my current fucked out figure. “We’re so close y/n..just a few more seconds..” Jake coos.

“Good girl— 2..” he groans the feeling overwhelming him quickly.

“1.” He smirks finally spreading his seed deep inside of me.

I cum undone all over his fat cock. He slides out slowly to make sure it won’t hurt. “You did it y/n~ so good for me..” Jake grabs my cheek with his hand. Wiping away my tears with his thumb, smiling to himself coming to realization of what just happened.

“Here I’ll be back, I’m gonna clean you up.” Jake goes over to the bathroom wetting down a towel and bringing it back to the bed. Where I am currently lying down out of breath. He wipes softly on my sensitive spots cleaning all over my body. Making sure I am thoroughly clean.

“You’re so gorgeous y/n.” He looks into my eyes purely. I whisper a soft “thank you” as he puts the towel to the side. Jake helps me put my dress back on along with any jewelry that had fallen off. He also buttons up his shirt and buckles his belt back on.

He comes closer to me and wraps his arms around my frame. Jake brings his lips to mine for a soft and slow but yet passionate kiss. He runs his hands along my body exploring more, as if he hadn’t seen it all before. All before we hear a loud knock on the guest bedroom door.

“Who is it?” I ask quite startled from this sudden knock.

“It’s Yunjin. The party just ended, and just to let you know, it’s been well over 20 minutes now guys.” She laughs so loudly that I’m sure the neighbors can even hear. Jake chuckles to himself looking at the time, seeing that we had spent way longer than expected. But the time was used well.

@topichoon ── do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or take any of my work.

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toomuchracket · 4 months

Text

home for christmas (d word matty x reader fluff)

another christmas75 fic! pre-dating, but only just. it'll make sense when you read it lmfao. also i love this pic of matty literally god bless jack antonoff. enjoy <3

practically jamming his knuckle into his eye in an effort to wake himself up, matty slowly drags his suitcase out of the lift. he brightens up a bit when he sees you in the lobby - well, sees your tiny face, looking as sleepy as his own, poking out between the fabric of your beanie and hoodie and floor-length puffer jacket. as he gets closer to you, his heart skips when you smile sweetly at him, and it's all he can do to stop his legs copying it.

he manages to keep his cool, though, plopping down on the sofa next to you and matching your smile. “morning. you feeling a bit chilly, darling?”

“ha ha,” you roll your eyes, deadpan, and matty giggles. “you haven't been anywhere without central heating yet. s'fucking freezing outside.”

“why were you out?”

you lean forward to lift a takeout drinks holder matty hadn't noticed on the coffee table. “to get these.”

“oh. thanks,” matty takes his cup from you, slightly crestfallen. “i thought we were going to go on the coffee run together, though?”

shrugging, your face contorts into a bashful smile that wipes every other thought out of matty's head. “didn't want you to get cold. and i figured you'd be tired after the show last night, so not making you wait for coffee was a good idea. oh, also,” you rifle through your jacket pocket and procure two sugar packets. “there you go.”

“thank you, darling,” matty squeezes your hand as he takes the sugar. “god, you really are freezing. i almost feel bad that you went out in the cold to get this.”

“almost?!” you roll your eyes again, but the smile - that fucking smile, the one that's had matty wrapped around your finger since the day you met - doesn't leave your cold face. “i'm waking you up to come with me next time, for that. you almost feel bad. christ.”

“do it,” matty smirks. “i think i'd be much more agreeable if i woke up to your face, actually.”

he isn’t lying. ever since he had that dream about falling asleep spooning you last month, waking up to a bed without you in it has been dreadful. mornings like these where you're the first person he sees are lovely, of course, but matty thinks he won't truly be happy in the morning unless he wakes up to your face burrowed into his chest and his lips on your head.

judging by the way your eyes and smile both widen almost imperceptibly - he notices, though, of course he does - matty thinks you might actually want that too. and, frankly, he's glad he's sitting down: that realisation would've swiped the legs from under him, otherwise.

your snark back at him is also suggestive of your mutual (!!!) crush. “well, in that case… i might have to request two keys for your hotel rooms on the uk leg. are you agreeable to that?”

fuck me, matty thinks; whether that's an exclamation or a request, he isn't sure. both, probably. he takes a sip of his coffee, then clears his throat and prays his voice doesn't wobble and give him away. “quite.”

“well, we'll see how long that lasts,” you giggle, and matty wishes he could bottle the sound. “given that i've been thinking about taking up running in the new year, and i'll force you to come with me.”

matty snorts. “you won't.”

“too fucking right i will, matty. if i'm doing it, you - as my designated coffee run companion - are too.”

“no, i mean you won't take up running, darling.”

you frown. adorably. “why not?”

“it's just so not you,” matty giggles. “why'd you even want to do it?”

your upper lip snags as you shrug. “just feel like i'm not doing enough cardio at the minute.”

“right,” matty does his best to keep his voice and face neutral despite his stupid fucking horny brain firing off images of you and him doing a different sort of cardio. get it together, healy, you arsehole. “i don't think running's the way to go for you, though, babe.”

“probably,” you ponder. “maybe swimming, instead, then.”

great. now he's thinking about you in a swimsuit, hair soaked and slicked back, water dripping down your body as you exit the pool like a fucking bond girl and make your way over to him and-

christ, what is going on with him today? he needs a distraction. something. anything. aha. “wait a minute. are you drinking an iced coffee?”

“mhmm,” you take a long drink of said coffee, as nonchalantly as matty’s ever seen you.

“but… darling, it's december,” matty splutters. “you can't just have a normal latte?”

“nah. s'too hot.”

“eh?”

you shuffle round to face him, leaning on your arm. “you know how you aren't meant to put freezing hands under hot water to warm them up? it's too shocking to the skin or whatever?”

matty squints. “yeeeeees?”

“well, that. if your drink’s too hot and you're too cold, it's too shocking to your insides.”

“i've genuinely never heard anyone say that before.”

“s'pose i'm one of a kind, then,” you grin.

in a tone far too soft for the conversation, matty replies. “yeah, you are, darling.”

“you're too sweet,” you beam, putting down your coffee and holding a hand out to him.

matty takes it eagerly, eyes widening when his skin makes contact with yours. “and you're like actual ice! jesus, babe,” he reaches for the other hand, holding them both tightly in his own to warm them up. “thank god i'm here.”

you laugh loudly, collapsing into a full fit of the giggles when matty overexaggeratedly blows on your hands to make them even warmer; when the giggles fade into soft hums, you look at him with such tenderness that he almost has to look away. “m'gonna miss hanging out with you every day, you know.”

the words are like a flaming arrow to matty’s heart - the reminder you're going separate ways (albeit temporarily) is piercing, but the revelation of your affection towards him sets every nerve ending in his body alight with joy. “me too, darling. and i can't believe we're not getting on the same flight home today, either. m'gutted. you're the only person who doesn't stress me out on planes.”

you turn your intertwined hands over so you can gently rub the back of matty's with your thumb. “i know. but it just made sense for me not to fly into london - saves me getting an extra train back to my mum's, or driving. speaking of, when are you going up north?”

“christmas eve. driving back down to mine on the 27th.”

“i'm heading back to my flat that day, too,” you nod thoughtfully, then your face brightens. “d'you want to do a coffee run on the 28th, then? i'll get the train up to you. and i'll bring your christmas present.”

the relief that washes over matty's body upon confirming when he'll next see you is so strong it's almost embarrassing. he nods enthusiastically. “as long as you don't mean an actual run, then yeah.”

“thought we'd decided running wasn't for me?”

“oh, that's right. well, in that case,” matty grins. “see you on the 28th, then.”

“fab. and then… you're going to g's at new year, yeah?”

matty nods. “and you're NOT! traitor.”

“oh, shut up. i can't let the girls down, i haven't seen them in months,” you roll your eyes. “but i'll pop down for a bit after i've been out, definitely,” your face turns serious, and you look down at the tiled floor. “um, matty, can i ask you a question? you don't have to tell me, but… i want to ask. just to, like, make sure we're sort of on the same page.”

matty shuffles in his seat to look at you properly, a cocktail of curiosity and apprehension mixing itself in his stomach. “of course, darling. you ok?”

“yeah! i'm fine, i just,” you sigh, and tentatively meet his gaze. “i was wondering if you're taking anyone to the new year's party.”

oh.

you're asking him if he likes you. like, like likes you.

this is good. no, actually - this is great. possibly even… perfect. because, obviously, he does. he really, really does.

fuck.

matty opens his mouth to talk, but you continue babbling nervously. “i'm sorry if that was out of line, and you don't have to answer at all, like i said, i just wanted to make sure i wasn't misreading the situation but if i am then i'm so sorry and we can just forg-”

“no, no, it's alright, darling, really,” matty says, squeezing your hand. “no lines crossed, no pages jumped, no misreading. i'm not taking anyone to the party, no. just me and a bottle - well, three - of wine.”

you exhale, cheeks lifting into a relieved smile. “ok. good. thank you.”

“s'no problem, darling. and, just to clarify,” matty smiles in return. “are you bringing anybody with you?”

you shake your head. “just me. won't even have any wine. i'll have cigs, though.”

matty giggles, fighting the urge to kick his legs back and forth when you join in too. “well, looks like we'll just have to hang about with each other, then, yeah? can't have a drink and not smoke, no chance.”

you wink. his body feels like it's taking a screenshot. “see you there, then, healy.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #christmas75 #d word matty #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty x reader

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wannaeatramyeon · 8 months

Note

I know you’re already super busy and booked but if you can, Munseong Kim/Ji Yeonwoo fluff and headcanons would be cool. There is little to none on them, please pace yourself I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.

Hmmm. Let's do... texting habits (ish). And sorry I included my cuties Wangguk and Taehoon too 😊

HTF texting habits hc: Munseong, Yeonwoo, Wangguk, Taehoon

Munseong is a pretty cool and reserved guy, and that shows with his texting habits

He keeps it short and to the point, not a lot of emojis and everything comes across a little deadpan with his replies.

However, he is extremely fast respond back to you and usually within the minute... even if it doesn't warrant a response he'll at least send back a 😄 Sweet boy doesn't want to leave you hanging!

And if he's late to text back (by his standards), he'll always apologise even though you've explained a million times it's fine and you know he's doing his own thing.

Don't expect any memes, or him to react with anything apart from confusion. But you can always expect a good morning or good night.

Whenever he's feeling a bit down, he will read over your old messages and imagine your smile and your face lighting up on the other side.

...Or just call you to hear your voice.

Yeonwoo always makes time for texting you even with his hectic study schedule.

Thinks of it as a little treat, something to look forward to after frying his brain for the last couple hours.

He's always a bit contrite for his late replies too but it doesn't deter you with your double, triple, quadruple+ texting. It brightens his day seeing your name pop up on his phone, even if there are 10+ messages waiting.

Once his study schedule chills out and he makes more time for Kyokushin, he also makes more time for you!

Anything that pops into his head that he thinks you'll like, or that he thinks of saying, he'll just come right out with it.

More often than not it's a cute cat/dog meme or silly fluffy pics.

Occasionally it'll be blurred selfies of him during training. Just a lil hi and a way to say he's thinking of you.

Ah, another pretty reserved one.

Wangguk uses emojis more than you would expect, and is pretty cute with them to be honest. Adds them to provide a bit more context and depth with his responses because he knows how dry he can sound 🥺

Keeps his messages pretty short unless there's something that he is passionate about then he'll just ramble and send a full on essay. Punctuated with another follow up message to say sorry. It's pretty goddamn cute tbh.

Sends you a LOT of pictures. Innocent ones that is. Pictures tell a thousand words and he loves his photography.

Pics to say good morning, good night, thinking of you, thought you would like this. Usually Wangguk isn't in them, which makes any selfies even more special.

Also loves when you respond back in kind, sending him snaps of your day and just you.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, is extremely clued up with memes or anything slightly unhinged thanks to Gyeoul and her sense of humour. Will send on any to you that makes him chuckle.

Listen if Taehoon wants your attention, he'll let you know. That includes messages and calls at 4am just to fuck with you. Especially when he hears your exasperated sigh and groggy voice. Or even an angry reply to "GO TF TO SLEEP!!" It will never not be funny to him. Maybe that's on you for continuing to respond and pick up all the time.

Cute good morning, good night texts? No chance.

Although he is very good at letting you know where he is, what he's up to. And expects similar from you. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just wants to know you're safe. A hangover from Dowoon.

And this bastard is also pretty leisurely with his responses. You can be having a full on conversation, responses back within the minute then he leaves you on read for hours.

However, if you do the same then expect a call "why the fuck aren't you answering me." If you miss that, then expect an annoyed Taehoon on your doorstep.

Again, another hangover from Dowoon. His mind just goes to the worst case scenarios.

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oliviajdjarin · 2 years

Text

Azriel Shadowsinger: Nervous

Pairing: Azriel x female!reader (she/her)

Summary: “‘Look my love,’ he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

‘We’re the same.’”

Warnings: intense descriptions of burns and scarring, trauma, swearing, slightly bitter, depressed, and angry Azriel, Cassian is here, intense insecurities, kissing, dancing, shy!azriel, shy!reader, probably cringey dialogue, please please beware of the scarring descriptions.

A/N: I have no experience with burn scars, therefore I will never understand the pain of having them both physically and mentally, so I in no way am attempting to romanticize them. My intentions are purely to show that having scarring in any way shape or form is beautiful, and nobody is worth any less because of it. Constructive (and kind) criticism of my descriptions is appreciated.

A/N 2: thank you @cityofidek for the push to write an idea I’ve had forever. Thank you! This is also partially inspired by hoax by Taylor Swift :) (I apologize in advance @leahkenobi)

SJM Masterlist

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(pic gotten from Pinterest)

“Look a bit more tense, brother.”

His puffed chest recoiled slightly, and his eyes darted behind him.

Cassian smiled. “Catching the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Azriel released a breath of annoyance through his mouth and turned back around, facing the Mahogany staircase. His jaw ached from how tightly he had been flexing it, and how long he had been in his own head.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

We. As if Cassian understood what the Hel he was going through. As if either of his brothers understood.

Cassian stood next to him and exhaled dramatically.

Azriel turned his head to scan his brother up and down. He was dressed similarly to him—a well-fit, dark-black suit, dark enough to brighten his ruby-toned siphons. His hair was clean, his musk was prevalent, his face was shaved, and his eyebrows seemed to look…sharpened?

“Nesta’s idea,” he said, noticing the shift in Azriel’s eyes. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt. I was wrong.”

Azriel hummed in response, noting how Cassian was trying to calm his nerves with humor, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was fucking working.

“You nervous?” Cassian said, patting him on the back.

He knew the answer to that. Azriel’s fidgeting, bare hands behind his back proved it enough. He felt the familiar scar tissue along his fingertips, cringing at the thought of your face when you saw them.

Why did he wait until now to show you them?

He was a fucking idiot. An asshole. A coward.

He had trusted you with everything, everything, except for this. The part of him he loathed above all else. The piece of himself he wanted to bury.

“Hey,” Cassian said, snapping him out of his own daze once again. “You can do this. She loves you. We can see it.”

Could she love a liar?

“Y/N is kind. One of the kindest females I’ve ever met,” Cassian continued. “It’s going to work out.”

How fucking easy that would be for Azriel to say, if he wasn’t the one who was left behind.

He had watched Rhysand crumble for Feyre. He thought it would kill him, but he saved her. It worked out.

He had watched Cassian tip-toe around Nesta, accepting any scrap of herself she fed to him, and then it all went up in flames. But it worked out.

All of it worked out.

For them.

Azriel loved his brothers more than anything. He was elated for them, but the facts still remained: their beds, their hearts, and their bonds were full.

But what about his? What about him? The last one. The straggler. The one who had picked his brothers up, relating to the missing pieces inside of them, and finding comfort in their mutual sadness.

He never thought about what would happen when they didn’t need him anymore.

Until, he found you.

An ember of light in his never-ending darkness. The shade of blue that complimented his own, the only being in the world that made the chorus inside his soul begin to sing.

His unwanted jealousy and resentment for his brothers began to disappear, and his energy went only to you.

Fuck yeah Azriel was nervous. You were all he had ever longed for, everything he would never deserve, and the only person he would dance with on Starfall.

He groomed himself as best he could, making sure to add a touch of the cologne you had complimented him on.

You smell…woodsy. Like a forest, you had said late one night. I like it.

It was safe to say his heart just about dropped out of his ass when you said that, and he had worn it every day since.

He inhaled, letting the crisp night air coming through the House of Wind windows fill up his lungs, and he exhaled.

Cassian was right. You were kind. Wonderful. Beautiful. His scars were one of the many pieces of him that you would accept…hopefully.

Until then, he would stand there and wait, all night if he had to, even if it was just to catch a glimpse of you.

Your eyes alone would put every star to shame.

~*~

“Shake out those shoulders,” Mor said behind you. “You’re too tense.”

You exhaled through your nose and did as she asked, waving your arms side to side. You rolled your shoulders as well, feeling them begin to ache from how hard you were clenching them.

“Come on Y/N,” she said. “Look at you!”

You were. That was the problem.

You had never felt more beautiful in your life.

From the tips of your feet to the flyaways of your hair, you were coated in a thin layer of glitter. It was so faint that it only showed in certain lighting, and Mor applied just enough on you to make it look natural. You skin looked angelic, while your dress…

It was anything but holy.

The midnight blue complimented your skin tone beautifully, and, as if the glitter lining your skin wasn’t enough, every fold and crease in your dress was encapsulated with diamonds. Real diamonds.

You didn’t want to ask how much this cost. You really didn’t.

The fabric was perfectly comfortable, hugging your body exactly the way you wanted it to. Your makeup matched the colors cascading over your body, and your hair was done just enough to still look like you.

“If Az isn’t on his knees by the end of the night,” she said admiring you. “I sure as Hel will be.”

You rolled your eyes at her, knowing she was poking at you to get you out of your head, but it wasn’t working.

“Y/N,” she said, “he will love every inch of you. He already does.”

You swallowed grimly, still staring at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t know the dress would be backless. You didn’t know how much of you it would show.

And you hadn’t told Azriel yet.

You closed your eyes, unable to get the picture and feeling of it out of your mind. The burning agony that stretched up the length of your back when it happened, and the painful bliss of the aftermath. You did it for the Night Court. You did it for the High Lord.

You did it for your family.

But that didn’t make the scar stretching from the bottom of your spine to the middle of your shoulder blades any smaller, and that didn’t make the memories of it any smaller either.

Why did you wait until now to show him?

Mor knew, Feyre knew, and Nesta knew. That was it. Besides that, you kept it to yourself. You had accepted it as a part of you, but you still wanted only those closest to you knowing about it.

Yet Azriel was the closest, and he still didn’t know.

You had never met another male—or person—that you weren’t afraid of in one way or another. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, you knew he wouldn’t leave you, and you knew his soul better than your own.

He had never seen you naked, but that felt fleeting. Unimportant. He had seen enough of you to know you.

This was the last piece. The final step.

“Y/N?” Mor asked, and your head cleared. “Please try and stay in the moment as best as you can. I promise tonight will be perfect.”

She looked equally as stunning—an emerald dress highlighting her golden locks, as well as diamond earrings that shimmered in the moonlight. You smiled at her, feeling lucky to call her your friend. A true friend.

“Thank you Mor,” you replied. “It’ll be perfect for you too. You deserve it.”

She smiled, surely imagining the dance she saved for tonight, and she nodded her head.

“Now let’s go,” she said, ushering you out of the room. You laughed as she did this, and a sprout of hope began to bloom in your chest, covering your lakes of doubt with its shade.

I’m excited, you told yourself. So fucking excited.

~*~

“You should try it Az, really,” Cassian continued. “You’d think it wouldn’t hurt, but my eyes watered like a babe.”

Azriel scoffed a laugh, feeling a small smile come onto his face.

Cassian took this as his in, his deep chuckle echoing up the stairs. “I’m serious! You’re laughing now, but I guarantee—”

It was then that a different noise began to echo, sprinkling down the stairs like snow. It was more rare and priceless to him than a jewel.

Your real, genuine, laughter.

He pictured how your head would be thrown back slightly, a maneuver he had only gotten out of you a few times, and how bright your eyes would turn.

He wasn’t ready. Not at all.

“Here they come,” Cassian said, straightening his shoulders. Azriel did the same, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his back. His brain went faster than he could keep up, causing his throat to close. He pictured every little detail on his body, hoping and praying he looked good enough for you.

It was when he brought his hand up to his mouth, checking the smell of his breath quickly at the risk of you seeing his hand, that Cassian broke out into a smile.

And there you were.

He knew, in that moment, that the Mother hadn’t cursed him. The Cauldron wasn’t wrong. They just needed time to craft you, making you into the closest thing that there was to them as they could. He needed to experience his grief, his regrets, his pain, to make you that much more of a gift.

You had to be a goddess. You had to be.

And he was one lucky bastard, because you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

~*~

Your second thought as you walked down the stairs, taking note of the way your heels hit the wood to avoid smashing your face in, was how lucky you were for the angle. There was no way anyone on the floor would see your back.

Your first thought, however, was how waterproof the eye-makeup Mor gave you was.

The most beautiful male you had ever seen in your life was staring at you—staring at you—with lips opened wide enough to see the tips of his teeth. You knew him well enough to know that that was the equivalent of his jaw hitting the floor.

Tears misted your eyes, dribbling onto your lower lashes, at the sight of how hard he tried. His hair was tidy, his skin was clean, and his hair was fluffed just how you liked it to be. He wore a shade of black so dark it mixed in with his shadows, bringing out the golden-tones of his eyes. The material hugged his body perfectly, so perfectly that he definitely got it fitted.

You assumed he got his midnight blue pocket square as well, the exact color of your dress.

You almost froze on the steps, but some force inside of you was pulling you to him, so you kept walking.

You made it to the bottom of the staircase, and he was still standing there for you. As stiff as a board, his wings tucked in respectfully, like a king waiting for his queen.

Was that how he saw you?

“You look gorgeous Y/N,” Cassian said, but you could barely snap away from Azriel’s eye-contact.

Your eyes darted to his. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He stepped up to you and brought your hand to his mouth, pecking it gently. “Thank you.”

He stepped to the side, giving a similar comment to Mor, so you got a full view of Azriel again, who was shooting darts with his gaze into the back of Cassian’s head.

You smiled, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

If looks could kill.

Azriel quickly looked back to you and scanned you from head to toe, still keeping his hands behind his back. The anger in his body relaxed, and he released a breath from his mouth.

“You are—” he started, unable to finish. Beautiful wasn’t even close to enough. “You are…stunning Y/N.”

You smiled, feeling heat crawl up your neck.

“Thank you, Azriel” you responded. You never called him Az. Not once. You liked the feeling of his full name on your tongue. “You are as beautiful as ever.”

He swallowed, looking down at his feet. That word always made him turn shy on you, and you reveled in it. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

You smiled, seeing the blush on his tan skin. The awkwardness felt juvenile, but it was the most alive you felt in days. It almost made you forget about your throbbing scar.

Almost.

“Shall we?” Azriel asked, holding out his elbow. His hands rested awkwardly against his lower back, but you didn’t mind. You smiled even wider and looped your hand through it, allowing him to escort you to the rest of the Inner Circle. You stood close enough to him so that your back was impossible for him to see without straining his neck, and you got a whiff of your favorite smell in the world.

You repeated Mor’s words like a mantra. Stay in the moment. Tonight will be perfect.

It would surely be interesting.

~*~

Azriel had never been filled with so much awe and dread at the same time.

He couldn’t even fucking glance at you without his knees threatening to crumble him to the floor, but at the same time, he had never been more on edge. His hands danced from his back to his pockets to your waist. They never moved even remotely close to your eyesight, which was a feat in itself.

He knew this was your first Starfall. He knew how excited you were for this moment, and he really fucking hoped his behavior wasn’t the reason you were acting so stiff and…touchy. It was like you were keeping him attached to your side by his shoulder, refusing to let him get a glance at any more than just your front. Even when you slow-danced to the music, you didn’t seem comfortable with tucking your head underneath his chin or leaning on his shoulder. The two of you had slow-danced before, leaning into each other much more intimately, but your body language told him otherwise.

He wondered if you didn’t like the way the dress hugged your figure, or that you were so anxious to see the stars you didn’t know what to do with your body. Either way, all he wanted to do was see all of you. Feel all of you, and tell you how beautiful every inch of you looked under the moonlight.

He could call you much more poetic things than “stunning.” He could already feel Cass never letting that one go.

Nevertheless, after your dance, you slowly backed away from him, giving him a sinful view of your perfect bust.

“I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like one?”

He shook his head. “No thank you. I’d like to dance with you again, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Yes I would. I will meet you after this song.”

“Great,” he said, and your eyes darted behind him for barely a second before Mor was calling his name.

“Azriel, you’ve got to have a drink on Starfall. It’s tradition!”

He nodded to her, politely, and when he turned around you were nowhere to be found.

He exhaled, frustrated, and closed his eyes.

He should’ve known he’d fuck this up too.

~*~

The fresh night air cooled your dewy skin brilliantly, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your lungs.

What the Hel were you thinking?

He was so close, so fucking close to seeing it, and you knew he could read your behavior like a book. He was the Spymaster for Cauldron’s sake, how couldn’t he have noticed?

You leaned on the railing of the balcony, trying to listen to Mor, trying to be in the moment, but it wasn’t working.

Why couldn’t you just love that part of you? Why did you feel the need to hide it, from him of all people? Why couldn’t you just enjoy Starfall like everyone else?

You couldn’t even dance with the male you loved without ruining it. Ruining everything.

You should have known you’d fuck it up.

Your dress felt too tight, your head was pounding too loud, and you tried desperately to stop the tears, but they always came. You felt the familiar ache in your throat from holding back your cries, and the wind from the brisk night sent chills down your spine.

You heard music, singing, and laughter down the street. You really wish you didn’t. You wished you could just join in. Be normal. Be understood.

Nothing felt more impossible.

You rubbed your fingers on your temples, applying pressure to relieve your growing migraine. You thought about how cliché this all was—you got your perfect dress, your perfect dance, and now you were crying on a balcony in the middle of the night. The last thing you needed was your—

“Y/N?”

…knight in shining armor.

You were so in your head you didn’t feel him coming—a weird sixth-sense you always seemed to have with him—and you didn’t feel him watching you. Watching your panicked breaths, still in awe of how beautiful you looked completely raw.

You didn’t feel him move closer to the glass-door, getting a closer and closer view of how your skin reflected in the moonlight until finally—finally—he saw it. The piece of you you loved more than anything and yet hated. The piece of you that proved your love and courage, yet the scar on your skin that branded you for life.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

You knew he saw it, and your stomach turned inside out. The contents of your dinner threatened to spill over.

You didn’t respond to his call; instead, you continued to face away from him, eyes locked on the buildings scattered across Velaris. The commotion inside and down the street still continued, but your senses felt dialed to zero. Your brain began to muddle, silencing everything but his movements and breaths.

The panic began to creep up your throat, paralyzing you, and more tears escaped you as he stepped closer and closer. His shoes scuffed along the hard floor, causing your knuckles to tighten around the railings.

“I—” you began, wanting to explain everything, but you felt the heat of his body suddenly hit the back of your own. That fucking cologne reached your nose yet again, and the feeling unique to Azriel’s presence wormed its way up your body.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes widened, causing your sticky tears to stretch across your face, and a drop of heat rippled waves over your core.

How many times had you dreamed of those words in his voice?

“Yes,” you responded. Breathless.

A hand wrapped around your waist, pressing your back against his taut torso. You looked down, seeing how pretty his hand looked against you, and you swore to the gods your heart stopped.

Was that—

“Look my love,” he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

“We’re the same.”

His hands were…scarred. Badly. It stretched up to his wrists, and your body shuddered at their vision. His squeezed the top of your hands a bit harder, grounding you to the railing.

“What—” you began. “What happened?”

He tucked his nose into your hair, breathing you in.

“My step-brothers,” he whispered. “They used fire. Thought it would be funny.”

You sniffled, licking your lips. More and more tears began to fall. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled into your neck, and kissed it firmly. His body against your own felt magnetic, and all you wanted to do was melt into it completely. Becoming one.

“What about yours?” he asked. “If you’re comfortable.”

You nodded and licked your lips once more. “It was when Devlon got me.”

You felt him stiffen and his breathing halt. His hands dug slightly into yours, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel his anger rise.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You squeezed down on the railing. “I didn’t know how.”

He took a deep breath in, looking at his large hands covering yours, and released it. Letting his anger go.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

You swallowed. “Was there a reason you didn’t tell me?”

He started rocking you side to side, not responding for some time. You bathed in the feeling of him around you, feeling nothing else.

“I didn’t know how either.”

You smiled grimly, not knowing what to say. “I guess we are the same.”

He kissed your neck again. “In every way.”

And there it was—understanding. The one thing you craved your whole life. You had it.

You didn’t know what else to do but lean further into him and bask in it.

You looked up at the stars and spirits beginning to make their way across the sky, expecting to be blinded by their beauty. You had pictured this day since you were a child—their silver tails, the glittering stars, their never-ending brightness.

But nothing felt better than this embrace. Nothing.

You picked your right hand up from the railing and brought Azriel’s hand to your mouth, kissing down to his wrist. He began breathing huskily in your ear. Only for you.

Chills ran down your spine at the thought of what you were about to admit.

“They’re beautiful Azriel,” you whispered into his hand. “Every part of you is.”

The breath in his throat caught, causing him to choke up, and you felt one of his tears drip down your neck. His pulse was so intense you could hear it.

He was struggling to find words—the right words—and you smiled.

You had caught the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. You never thought you’d see the day.

Eventually he exhaled and fully hugged you from behind, and you felt his hand squeeze your own three times.

“You are so much more than stunning,” he mumbled. “So much more than beautiful. So much more than the stars in the sky.”

He pulled away, and whispered “stay” in your ear as he did. His hands slid from your own, and you felt suddenly bare. He had a full view of the expanse of your back now, and you didn’t know what he would think being so close to it.

He paused, scanning you, and you felt an urge to turn around and shake him, screaming say something.

He didn’t. Instead, the back of his scarred hand traced down your own scar, and you couldn’t help the almost erotic breath that left you.

The gravity of what he was doing hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help the small cry released from your mouth.

His scar met your own all the way down to the bottom of your spine before he bent down and traced it with kisses, all the way back up to the middle of your shoulder blades.

“I love you Y/N,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

The Starfall in front of you could have been a portal to another dimension for all you cared. Nothing would have stopped you from turning to face him, smiling wider than you had all night.

“I love you Az—” you began, but were interrupted by his hands framing your face and his lips pressed against yours.

You had kissed before, mostly pecks with some longer ones in-between, but this was different. This was acceptance of every inch of each other, down to the most minute detail.

His hair weaved in between your fingers as your lips molded to his. He tasted of cider and lemon—surely from the dessert table—and his hands tilted your head up just so. He mapped your mouth out with his own, and the songs within your souls found their match.

You wished you could bottle this moment in time and show it to your past self.

Look, you would tell her. We made it.

We made it.

You whimpered when he pulled away, already pulling him back in by his suit coat, but he just grinned. He memorized your blown-out eyes and swollen lips, feeling his insides melt at the sight, and you smiled up at him, the stars falling behind you making you ethereal.

Nothing else mattered but the sight of you, and he knew, in that moment, that everything would work out for him.

Everything.

Tag list: (if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists, please let me know! I apologize if your name is not added or not working)

@leahkenobi @azsazz @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @evlynclia @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @red-highlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhore @mystic-scripture @wolfyland07 @are-y0u-sirius @hilism @tooobsessedstuff @simplysensually @hernameispia @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5

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undermycoat · 9 months

Text

inspired by @izzyspussy’s prompt. hope u dont mind?? lol also tw for mention of james tartt. yknow how it is — also im thinking this takes place around the start of the season after the show ends 💚 but also (thanks nonny!) just pretend eras tour came out 2021 and barbie came out 2022 and not. now LOL

It starts as less than a handful of Tweets. Honestly, Jamie laughs at the first one, then scrolls by and completely misses the rest. And then he sees a group of lads donning West Ham merch pointing at him while on his morning run (sans Roy, who had to bow out due to a cold, the dick . . . Jamie's planning on picking him up breakfast) and whispering — but not quiet enough — that the Barbie has escaped his box. The Tweets (and comments and replies and DMs) appear more frequently after that.

The pictures of him in his pink tracksuit, tied to Roy’s bike, are passed around again. This time not by his loyal fans who begged for proper HD pics from him and thought he looked good as hell, but by the ones who call him Barbie and think his hair is blond and dumb and that he is just a dumb blond who isn’t even that good at football. At least that last bit could be easily refuted by his stats. He’s damn good at his job, and he knows it.

He doesn’t say anything about it, however, until they’re in the locker room after training, and Isaac huffs at something while looking at his phone. Jamie glances over to see him angling the screen toward him. “They’re callin’ you Barbie, bruv.”

Isaac is a really good friend, like, the best a guy could ask for. But Jamie kind of doesn’t want to think about this. “Yeah, I saw. It’s a compliment, innit? And kind of fittin’. I’m perfect, I’m everything. I am Barbie, ain’t I?”

At his easy dismissal, Isaac brightens up, grinning, and Jamie grins back. He finds the Tweet he was shown and posts a good selfie he took a few days ago, captioning it, I am everything. You wanna be Ken? It’s a bit stupid, but the insult is stupid too, so he thinks he’s allowed it.

The thing is — he wants to be unbothered by the nickname. The Barbie movie was fucking awesome, and though he’s still on thin ice with Keeley, even after their strictly-business trip to Brazil, they put aside their differences . . . that is, they put aside Jamie’s fuck-up to go and watch one of the screenings together. Yeah. It was fucking awesome. And he loves women. Like, major respect.

But the condemnations of the word are a knife’s edge away from a whiskey-tinged voice hissing soft and little bitch in his ear, and Jamie really can’t fucking deal with that right now. And he had gone and seen James in rehab, just for a couple hours, and he doesn’t regret going and seeing him, and he actually thinks it’s fucking mint the man’s getting help. He even enjoyed going through the old photos of his grandparents and James as a baby and even some of his own photos, when his mum looked a little less tired and he wasn’t afraid to smile too brightly. And in rehab, James is given limited Internet time, so the chances of him seeing the insults, seeing Jamie being called a girls’ toy, something pretty and pink, are small, and even if he does see, what can he do? They won’t just let him leave while obviously on some rampage.

It’s not like Jamie plans on going back to the man any time soon anyway. He’s not James Tartt’s anything. They just share a name. So what?

Jamie jumps at the touch of a hand on his shoulder. He pockets his phone (his Quote Tweet is now at twenty thousand likes and counting), and when he turns, it’s Roy, staring at him with those impossibly dark eyes and wild brows that make them even darker.

“Hi, coach,” he says with a grin.

Roy grunts back.

Jamie stays still for another second before blinking. “Got any wisdom for me?”

The other guys have begun to clear out, and now it’s just them and Beard still in the coaches’ office. And Will, who seems to be some metaphor for God, the way he’s always around, not even lurking, just . . . around.

Finally, Roy says, “Good pass. Don’t be late tomorrow.”

It’s so unbearably Roy that it makes Jamie sick. It also suggests there’s more he’s not saying, but Jamie isn’t sure what. He doesn’t push, however, just salutes him. “‘Course, coach,” he leans back on his heels, “dark and early, yeah?”

Roy nods, then pivots and mechanically goes back to the office. Jamie watches him go before turning and gathering his things. As he packs, he can practically feel Roy’s eyes on his back, but he knows when he turns, both him and Beard will be staring down at things on their desks. Whatever.

Jamie doesn’t run into anyone on his way out, and he’s grateful, taking a breath when he gets in his car then speeding off. He feels itchy under his skin, like when his foot falls asleep but the sensation is all over his body, and he kind of regrets leaving Nelson Road because he thinks running a few extra laps up and down the pitch would soothe him, if only a little bit. Despite this, when he gets home, he just gets out of his car and goes inside. It’s not that he’s worried about a repeat of his solo jog that one morning. It’s just really hot outside, what with it being late July and all, and he just showered, like, thirty minutes ago.

Every time a notification goes off on his phone, his stomach flips in a really awful way. Jamie turns off his phone.

Maybe now that he’s said something, it’ll die down. Since he’s made it clear he’s not bothered by it, that he can take whatever they give, they’ll stop.

And then, the first match of the season, Jamie walks onto the pitch, and a familiar song starts up. It’s not his song — but it’s certainly for him.

“Are they singing . . . ‘Barbie Girl’?” Colin asks from behind him.

“And changing the pronoun to ‘he’,” Jan adds, helpful as ever.

Jamie catches sight of one of the cameras recording the match, grins and sticks out his tongue, and when he looks to the opposing fans’ side, he even gives a little bow. Just for them. He thinks about something Lasso said to him once about bullying, after he stopped being a dick to Nate and asked why Ted never stepped in. Acknowledging it almost always makes it worse. Sorry that Jamie had believed in the ‘almost’.

;

After getting booted from Keeley’s and after a dinner at a kebab place that Jamie knows is good because Roy didn’t actually make him sit and watch — he picked bits of lamb from the skewer and placed them on the napkin in front of Jamie without a word — it’s not unusual for him and Roy to get dinner together. Sometimes it’s just them at Roy’s, who’s a better cook than his mum but not better than Simon, and sometimes it’ll be at a pub, and sometimes they’ll go to a restaurant. It was with ruddy cheeks that Roy admitted the kebab shop was like his church, but Jamie wasn’t judging. He thinks he understood the ecstasy of St Theresa after a bite of that lamb.

Tonight, however, Roy drops Jamie off at his place, and then parks the car and follows him in.

“Uh,” Jamie says when Roy stands in the entryway, a hand behind his back, posture stiff, “can I help you?”

“Go to your room,” Roy replies, and Jamie’s eyes go wide, and he says, “O-kay, Daddy,” before he backtracks, but Roy is backtracking too. “I mean, go somewhere that isn’t behind me or the kitchen.”

Jamie’s mouth drops into an ‘o’. “Right. Okay. I’ll just go to the living room, then.”

Roy nods, and Jamie walks slowly to the couch, backwards so he can watch Roy watching him.

He manages to sit still on his couch for a good two minutes, listening to Roy clattering about his kitchen, before he hops up and goes to sit at his dining table instead. It’s there that he sees a paper bag, and it takes everything in him not to peek into it. At the sound of the chair scraping against the floor, Roy leans back from where he’d had his head stuck in Jamie’s fridge, and he turns to look back at Jamie, who smiles innocently at him. He even waggles his fingers in a wave for good measure.

Roy rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, so Jamie thinks it’s fine, and he doesn’t think about how good it feels to be the one behind Roy Kent’s smile. Roy goes back to rummaging through the fridge.

Eventually, Jamie gets roped into helping out, but all his complaints are customary, and he thinks if he had allowed himself — if he had been allowed — to dream about domesticity, this is exactly how it would’ve been. Right down to the celebrity footballer. It’s kind of perfect.

Then, Jamie’s phone goes off.

It’s his news app, which he keeps forgetting to turn off the notifications for, and it irritates him every time, but especially when he actually clicks the notification ‘cause the story looks interesting, only to find out he’s somehow already used up his articles for the month, and would he please be willing to spare a few pounds every month for more? In theory, yes, he is willing. In practice . . . he has other places to put his money.

That being said, the irritation he feels then is nothing compared to the humiliation he feels now, reading the headline: This Barbie is a Footballer: AFC Richmond Jamie Tartt’s new song.

Roy is turned the other way, so luckily, he can’t see the way Jamie’s smile immediately drops from his face. This shit isn’t even important! It’s just some stupid fan war mess, the opponents’ fans trying to get in his head, and it’s not fucking working, alright? He doesn’t care. He’s just embarrassed that it’s apparently made the news. It’s really not a big deal.

When he looks up from his phone, Roy is looking at him. Jamie swallows.

“It’s nothin’,” he tells him. “Just some politician, saying some stupid thing. Sam sent it to me to rant.”

Roy nods, but he looks like he doesn’t believe him. Jamie’s voice had wavered in the middle, so he doesn’t believe himself either. But he still doesn’t budge, just leans back against the counter and waits for Roy to either turn away or say something in return. Roy turns away. Over his shoulder, he says, “I have something for you after we eat.”

“Whatever’s in the bag?” Jamie asks. Roy grunts. “Is it concert tickets? Am I goin’ to see Taylor fucking Swift? The bag’s just to throw me off, obviously.”

“Fuck no,” Roy’s response is, pun intended, swift and immediate. Jamie grins. “You’ll see later. Just . . . wait.”

Jamie groans. “Fine. But it better be good, since you got me all excited for the concert.”

Roy gives him a stern glare. Jamie puts his hands up, then gets back to washing the dishes they’re done using.

All throughout their meal, Jamie struggles to sit still, and his eyes, without fail, return to the bag. It becomes enough of a problem that Roy takes the bag and hides it in his lap, but Jamie’s no coward, so his gaze still wanders to — well.

“The quicker you finish eating, the sooner you get to see it,” Roy growls out around his own mouthful of salmon and quinoa (Jamie was surprised he had those things in his freezer and cupboard too, but it made a damn good meal, so he’s not complaining).

Jamie grows a lot more focussed after that, and he’s done within minutes — nay, seconds. Roy raises his eyebrows in approval. Jamie licks the leftover glaze for the salmon off his fork for good measure. Roy looks down at his plate.

Once Roy finishes eating, the paper bag makes its triumphant return, Roy setting it between them. He nods his head at it, and Jamie takes it quickly, before the other can change his mind and take it back.

He doesn’t expect what he pulls out, but he feels like he should. He looks between the Barbie and Roy, who’s staring at Jamie with a gaze so intense Jamie worries he might burn up from it. If this had been bestowed to him any time the year before, especially from Roy, he’d think it a continuation of the insult. But all he feels right now is laughter, the weight in his stomach turning into something bubbly and light that works its way up his throat and past his lips. Slowly — because he’s out of practice, the old fart — Roy begins to smile back.

The stupid fucking made-to-move soccer Barbie is even wearing an England kit, and when Jamie turns her around, he grins at the number and name on the back.

“You fucking dick,” he says, the words coming out as a hiss through his teeth, that’s how hard he’s grinning.

“You’re Jamie fucking Tartt,” Roy replies, and Jamie wishes he had a word to describe the look the other was sending him, but the best he can do is say how it makes him feel — really fucking good; like nothing could ever hurt him; like there is no one else in the world but the two of them; like he could go win the World Cup, the FA Cup, all the Leagues, every award in the football world, and not break a single sweat. It makes him feel a lot like he’s in love.

Roy’s not done: “You are everything. Who gives a shit if some pricks call you Barbie? You fucking own it, Jamie. You are every-fucking-thing, and they’re not even Ken.”

And Jamie will make fun of him for it later, that he’s more than aware of the movie’s tagline, but at the moment, he’s clutching the Barbie to his chest like a lifeline, and he feels a sting behind his eyes, like tears are threatening to spill, and his cheeks hurt with how hard he’s smiling.

Roy clears his throat. “Phoebe said there are ways you can change the hair, but . . . don’t use heat. It’s plastic. You can cut it or dye it fucking . . . walnut haze or whatever.”

Jamie doesn’t even correct him that it’s walnut mist. He’s close enough.

He gives the doll one last squeeze. “Thanks, Roy, I mean it.”

Roy doesn’t reply, just gives a grunt and nods his head. That’s alright too. Jamie looks down at the doll again, then leans back in his seat. He holds it up to his face, angles her head so they’re cheek-to-cheek more or less.

“Like twins, ain’t we?”

And Jamie wonders if maybe there were something in the food, or maybe in their drinks, because it seems like Roy can’t stop smiling either.

;

The opposing fans are at it again. Jamie sees Roy glance back at him and grins. He considers mouthing all good, coach, but he’s more interested in using one arm to wave and the other to hold his Barbie up the same way he had when it was just him and Roy, teeth bared all the while. The crowd goes wild, of course.

He’s Jamie fucking Tartt. He’s everything. Of course no one is going to think of him as just Ken — that’s just ridiculous.

in case you can’t tell “condemnations” is supposed to be “connotations”. ily jamieisms 💚 also i wrote this rly fast on my phone so sorry & now on ao3 if u'd prefer to read it there ✌️

#my writing #royjamie #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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blooming-violets · 3 months

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Hi! This isn't a request but how do you think Peter would react to reader being a Funeral Director? Let's say it's like a blind date (set up by Auntie May ofc). Im asking because a good amount of your fics that you write with Peter revolve around death- weather it being Ben's, Gwen's, and/or what he see's around just being Spider-Man.

Lol this is coming from someone who's about to get their license to become a f.d if you couldn't tell :)

omg over a decade ago i used to roleplay with an oc who was my dark humored, lil goth queen and she was studying to become a funeral director and even though it was so long ago, once an oc, always an oc. she still lives up in my brain with the rest of every other character i've ever created in my life time. i'm going to channel her energy into my soul for this one

Ok, so! I love this.

(using gender neutral "they/them" for this character)

This might sound slightly gruesome but I'm going with it! May is getting a little older in age. Nothing crazy but she's a realist and she wants to be extra prepared when it's her time to go because she doesn't want to burden Peter with such things. She knows what it's like to go through the entire process of burying a dead loved one when you are in the middle of the worst grief of your life. She doesn't want Peter to have to make any of those choices like where to go and what casket to chose. She's a planner and is going to keep nurturing her boy even after death.

Soo she starts doing the rounds of looking into funeral homes, types of caskets, potential flower arrangements, details for the service, how she wants her body to be prepared...she's got it all figured out and in a binder with laminated pages. And she's having the time of her life doing all this because any chance to pull out some stationary is a good day in her book.

Peter freaks when he finds out because that's his girl and he refuses to let her die ever. But she calms him down by reminding him that death can happen to anyone, at any time, and she wants to be prepared for him. All he will have to do is hand over this binder to the director and they can do the heavy lifting so he can just take time to grieve. He's still not happy about it. Aunt May will never die. He doesn't even want to entertain the idea that it's a possibility even twenty years from now.

But then she throws in a lil twist.

"Oh, by the way, Peter...you have a date next Saturday night. I set you up with the director of the parlor. They were just lovely! So accommodating, so funny, absolutely gorgeous, not anything like I was expecting. I told them I had a nephew who was single. Showed them a picture of you. You know that picture I took last summer of you at the beach eating a Ninja Turtle popsicle next to the ice cream truck? I just love that picture...reminds me of when you were a boy...anyway, they agreed to meet up with you! Isn't that wonderful?"

And he's standing there speechless and mortified because only Aunt May would start prematurely planning for her death and then go around showing embarrassing, shirtless pics of him to his potential suitors...who are also helping her plan for her death. He tries to refuse to go but it's May and you can't say no to her. She will always win.

She picks out his best outfit for him and makes sure he's all dolled up (also to be sure he actually goes through with the date and doesn't bail).

He's shocked at how young and attractive they are when he meets them. Even though May insisted they would be a good match, he still was picturing some creepy old, sickly pale, skeletal man wear a dark suit. He's been dating a bit lately but nothing really sticks. This date feels different. He starts off by making a dark joke about dating the person who's going to bury his (still very much alive) aunt. Which gets a laugh from the both of them. They start in on how lovely it was to meet her and how she brightened up the house when she came for a meeting. And Peter talks about how baffled he was to find out she was even doing all that in the first place. He would have gone with her or been more than willing take care of everything. But they insist that May was adamant on doing it on her own. Peter asks a lot of questions on why they would ever want to go into this line of work but they just laugh it off. They're helping people, even after death. Helping their loved ones have the best final goodbye they can have.

The first date flows smoothly. They both try to avoid the death talk after the first few minutes and keep things light and happy. Peter is unknowingly smitten at the time but finds that once he goes home for the night, he can't stop thinking about them.

A second date is soon to follow. And a third. And fourth. And so on until they are officially dating.

I think as they get more comfortable with each other and open up to each other more, Peter will start to reveal how badly of a relationship he has with death. Reader has a healthy outlook on it. They don't mind taking care of the dead. They enjoy being able to provide that kind of service. Nothing really turns their stomach at this point. Peter can't remember much about his parents or their funerals, Uncle Ben's was a blur, and Gwen's is blackened out from his memory. It really upsets him to picture Reader doing any kind of body preparation. He keeps having intrusive thoughts about them working on Gwen's corpse and it kinda fucks him up. (They obviously weren't the one's who did that but his mind is putting the two people he cares about together without reason). Sometimes it makes it hard for him to look at them. It causes tension in the relationship. He starts to resent that they do that job. He think that they are "better than that" and they should leave that sort of job to someone else. He thinks it's gross and upsetting.

Reader would take massive offense to that. They love what they do. It's very important to them. Peter keeps not being able to hear what they're saying and is throwing his own uncomfortable attitude into the mix. They represent death to him and he hates death. Almost like they're a constant reminder of everyone he loved who has died. Cue the climaxy fight part where they separate for a bit in order for the growth to happen. Peter goes off to sulk and eventually ends up on May's doorsteps like a lost, sad puppy.

He'd need to go have a heart to heart talk with her about why he feels so uncomfortable dating someone who is so close to death. She'd talk about his past traumas, losing so many loved ones, and how he never allowed himself to put those people to rest. That's what Reader does. They helps other's put their loved one's to rest. And that frightens Peter because he's afraid of letting go. They represent someone who is at peace with themselves and Peter is living in a constant state of turmoil. In order to love properly again, he has to let go of the past. Reader can become a healthy path forward but only if Peter is able to cut off the baggage that is holding him back.

He'd let that talk sink in for a few days until he finally crawls his way back to their home with a box of their favorite chocolates (not flowers because they've seen enough flowers to last them their entire life time). He's met with nothing but a gentle smile and open arms. He'd open up to better explain himself to them so they can understand where he's coming from and see into his past. It's a healing moment for him to overcome.

Over time he'd warm up more and more to the idea of them working so closely to death. They both like to lighten any dark moods with some terrible jokes and dumb comments. A lot of silly ghost/ haunting talks. A lot him questing them about things. Like if guys can get an erection after death. Or what exactly is embalming fluid (bc he likes science-y things). And trying to find out the craziest things they ever experienced while working. They have endless stories to share so there's never a dull moment.

And when they finally find out about Mr. Parker and his big, giant Spider-Man secret, they threaten Peter that he better never end up on their table or else they'll mutilate his corpse by cutting off his dick and keeping it in a jar. (too dark? lmao not for them!)

Peter loves it. It makes him feel loved.

#the amazing spiderman #peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm #tasm x reader #peter parker x reader

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pastelwitchling · 3 months

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The new pic Tyler posted with the glasses and Dylan is just 🥵🥵 I feel like if Michael got home and saw Alex lounging with their dog wearing those glasses he would not be able to control himself… 👀

***

It had been a long day, but Michael was vibrating. Alex, the damn tease, had facetimed him during work. Alex had been on an “insistent vacation,” according to Eduardo Ramos, and he was either very frustrated or very bored or very horny all on his own, or very pissed at being forced to rest and was feeling all kinds of vindictive.

Whatever the reason, Michael should’ve known something was wrong the second he saw Alex facetiming him instead of calling. He thought only of checking on his baby, making sure his complexion had brightened after some well-deserved sleep. He’d expected rosy cheeks. And he sure got them.

Just not the ones on Alex’s face.

“You bastard,” he breathed, dropping whatever the hell he’d been using to trace constellations in his bunker. Alex, who had stood his phone up on their nightstand, had merely moaned Michael’s name, his face in Michael’s pillow, his ass sticking up as he took himself in hand.

“Michael . . . I want your cock . . .”

“I’m coming,” he’d stumbled to his ladder, unable to look away from the show on his phone.

“Don’t,” Alex warned breathlessly, and for a second as he turned to face the phone, Michael saw the mischief in his smirk. “If you come home now, you’re not touching me.”

Michael had grit his teeth, the bulge fighting its way out of his jeans nearly painful now. “You evil bitch.”

Alex chuckled in that deep, gravelly voice that sent shivers down Michael’s spine and had him ready to come before he’d even touched himself. Given that he was struggling with the weight between his legs, that was not what he needed right now.

“You wanted me to rest – ah,” Alex cut off on a moan as he tugged particularly hard on his length, his eyes fluttering. “So I’m resting.”

“Alex –”

He stretched for the phone, giving Michael a clear view of his naked, damp chest, his hardened nipples, his fist gripping the base of his cock, and before Michael could make a single plea, the screen went dark.

So here Michael was, all but busting their front door down and kicking off his shoes. “Alex?” he all but stumbled into the house, his attempt at work since Alex’s phone call pathetic as all he could think about was Alex’s sweaty body in their bed. As he was now. Except, tragically, he was fully clothed, lying on his side, and calmly reading a book.

Without even looking up, Alex airily said, “Oh hi, honey, how was work?”

Michael tossed his hat across the room, undoing his jacket next as he growled, “Take your clothes off.”

Alex hummed. “Nah, I don’t really feel like it tonight.”

“I get it, okay?” he huffed as he tossed his jacket roughly aside, his flannel already halfway unbuttoned. “You’re annoyed, but you know you needed sleep and I’m not going to be sorry for forcing you to get it.” He pulled the whole thing up and over his head, tossing it aside as well. Alex didn’t bother hiding his interest, biting his lower lip.

“I’m not annoyed,” he said, laying back on the pillows – the pillows his flushed face had just been pressed against – casually spreading his legs, one hand still holding his book as he continued reading. “In fact”—his lips curled into a pleased smile –“I feel very satisfied. So much so that I might not even want sex for another few . . . days? Weeks? Oh, who knows.”

Michael wasn’t having it. He pushed his pants and underwear down, stepped out of them, and climbed onto the bed. He landed between Alex’s open legs, his palms on either side of Alex’s head as he hovered over him. With one hand, he grabbed Alex’s face and tilted his head up. Alex bit his lower lip as his smile widened.

“Like hell, Manes. Take your clothes off, or I’ll will rip them off you myself.”

“Never not tempting,” Alex said easily, “but no.”

Michael growled his frustration, letting go of Alex’s face only to press their foreheads roughly together, hard enough to bruise. “Damn it, Alex. You need sleep, I just wanted you to get some sleep.”

He couldn’t keep the desperation from his voice. He couldn’t be sorry that Alex was finally resting after everything he’d been through.

Alex hummed, running a hand from Michael’s chin down to his hairy chest, his stomach, down down down –

Michael gasped, instinctively thrusting up, trying to get his already hard cock closer to Alex’s fingers.

“Well,” Alex sighed, “I guess I can’t be mad at you for that.”

Michael rocked his hips forward again, Alex’s legs spreading wider underneath him, making his mouth water.

“Alex,” he whined.

“Oh well,” Alex finally said, arching up so that his body brushed Michael’s, and despite what he’d said, Michael could feel how eager he was too, could hear the hitch in his breath, could see the lust in his eyes. “Guess for now, I can always just keep facetiming you during work to keep things interesting.”

“Screw you,” Michael said, swallowing Alex’s laughter with his mouth. And despite what Michael had said, the second Alex started tugging at the hem of his own shirt, he happily helped him tear it off.

***

I deviated a little. Happy malex Monday ❤️

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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jrob64 · 8 months

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Saying Goodbye and Moving On

An OUAT Canon Divergent fix-it fic

Here is my entry for CSSNS 2023, which was written to fix what I thought was a grievous wrong in the show. All of you need to know that I wanted to make @kmomof4 a co-author because she did so much to help me with this story, but she refused. Several tragic things were happening in my life while I was writing this story and she talked me through it - giving me ideas for the plot, encouraging me to keep going, checking it over when it was incredibly full of errors or didn't make sense, and just generally being the best friend and supporter I needed in order to finish it. On top of that, she created the gorgeous pic set you see at the top, with some manip help from @motherkatereloyshipper. Thank you so much, ladies! I love it!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who was my official beta once again.

SUMMARY: Killian has returned to Emma from the Underworld and they are starting to build their future together, when a ghost from his past suddenly appears, giving them the opportunity to right a few wrongs.

CHAPTER 1/1 - 5230 words

RATING: T

ALSO on Ao3 (I'm unable to post to ffn at this time)

*********

Storybrooke was peaceful for perhaps the first time since Emma Swan crashed into the town sign three years ago. The Underworld saga was behind them, Killian had returned in dramatic fashion, and no new villain had shown up in town…yet. Emma knew it was only a matter of time, but she was going to enjoy the calm after the multiple storms for as long as she could.

Gold was the Dark One again after negating Killian’s sacrifice, but he secluded himself in his Pawn Shop. Emma figured he was avoiding everyone in town because they were furious over him not letting go of the dark power. Even though Emma knew the Dark One couldn’t be killed, she wasn’t above putting a bullet in him for something as minor as jaywalking, given the opportunity. She could never forgive him for what he did to the man she loved.

Right now, that man was alive and well beside her, his arm flung over her hip and snoring softly in her ear. It had been nearly two months since he returned and she was still hesitant to let him out of her sight. The first few nights after his return, both of them were desperate to reacquaint themselves with the other’s body. Gradually, as the realization grew that Killian was truly back and nothing was going to threaten their blissful happiness, their lovemaking grew gentler and less frantic, but no less meaningful. Now, after their bodies were sated, they’d lay in each other’s arms talking softly before they drifted off to sleep, content in the fact that nothing would pull them away from one another again.

*********

Killian awoke with a jolt, heart thundering in his chest and breath coming in sharp gasps. Sitting up quickly, he closed his eyes, tilting his head back while he concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself, hoping he wouldn’t wake Emma. When his heart rate slowed down a bit, he opened his eyes and the blood in his veins froze.

He rubbed his eyes furiously, then cautiously opened them again. The image hadn’t disappeared. Hovering hazily in front of him was…

“Milah?” he choked out.

The specter’s pale eyes brightened and a slight smile crossed her face. Drifting closer, she opened her mouth to speak…

“Killian?”

Immediately, the ghostly figure disappeared. Killian blinked rapidly as he felt Emma’s hand on his back.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up beside him.

“Oh, uh…aye,” he managed to say, still trying to get over the shock of seeing what was obviously the ghost of his former lover.

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

His head jerked around, searching her eyes to determine if she realized the accuracy of her statement. All he could see was concern in the green depths. “Aye, Love, I just…I’m having some trouble sleeping and I don’t…I don’t want to keep you awake, so…uh…I think I’ll spend the rest of the night on the Jolly, if you don’t mind,” he stammered.

A wounded look crossed her face so quickly, he wasn’t even sure he saw it. She schooled her features carefully before replying, “If you’re having nightmares, I can help you through them. You don’t have to handle them yourself, you know.”

He wiped a hand down his face. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt this woman who sacrificed so much to bring him home. He loved her more than he could express and owed her his very life. But after seeing the vision of Milah, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night and he didn’t know how to explain what had happened.

“I know, Love. I just…I think I need some fresh air.” Enfolding her in his arms, he rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m not pulling away from you, I promise. I’ll meet you at Granny’s tomorrow for breakfast, aye?”

“Yeah, okay,” she mumbled into his chest. “Call me when you get to the Jolly?”

“Of course.” He got out of bed and began putting on his clothes, feeling her eyes on him the entire time. When he finished, he turned back to see her still sitting up, the sheet wrapped around her. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he reached over to brush some wispy strands of hair away from her face. “Get some sleep, Darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She leaned in to kiss him, pressing her forehead to his for a brief moment afterwards. “Be careful on your way to the docks.”

“I will. Goodnight, Love.” After brushing her lips with his once more, he stood and began walking toward the doorway.

“Killian?” she called softly.

He turned. “Aye?”

“I love you.”

He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. “I love you, too, Swan.”

*********

On his way to his ship, Killian searched the skies for any sign of Milah’s apparition. He was torn about whether he wanted to see her ghostly image again. On the one hand, he was curious why she was here and wanted to talk with her to get some answers. Conversely, he was ready to move on with his life and his True Love.

He made it to the Jolly without any sign of the specter, but upon entering his quarters, he was met with the sight of her hovering over his bunk, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Milah!” he gasped. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her eyes widened in horror as she continued to try, with no success.

“You can’t talk?” he questioned. She shook her head sadly, and seemed to shrink in on herself, floating toward the ceiling. “No! Don’t go!” he cried. “Please…stay.” He held out his hand in invitation, knowing she wouldn’t be able to physically take it.

Her eyes softened, her distress easing as she settled back down to eye level with him.

“But you can hear me, can’t you?” he asked, needing to clarify their connection.

She nodded and made a hand gesture urging him to continue speaking.

He sat in his desk chair and swiveled it to fully face her. “I don’t know how you’re here, but…I’m glad you are.” His comment made her smile. “Emma, she…she told me the two of you met in the Underworld, and that you helped her get to me when Hades had me chained up over the River of Lost Souls.”

Milah nodded again, giving him a small, tight smile.

“I’m truly sorry Hades threw you into that river before I had a chance to say goodbye.”

Anger flashed across Milah’s face and she shook her head vehemently.

“What is it, Milah?” He watched her making motions with her hands, pantomiming pulling her heart out of her chest. “Hades tore your heart out? No, that wouldn’t make sense because you were already…” He stopped short, unable to bring himself to say the last word.

Milah continued to make gestures showing her heart being crushed, then pointed to Killian’s hook.

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him. “The crocodile?” he asked incredulously. She nodded vigorously and he could feel the rage rising in him. “Was he the one who pushed you into the River of Lost Souls?” At Milah’s emphatic nod, he angrily jumped to his feet. “Not only did he take you from me the first time, he also doomed you to eternal torment and deprived me of a chance to give you a proper farewell! And now he’s the bloody Dark One again! Bloody fucking hell!” He spun in a circle, wanting to throw or hit something.

The specter of his first love drifted closer and reached out to stroke her palm over his cheek. He felt a cool sensation where her ghostly hand brushed past him, calming him instantly. He sat down on his bunk and she moved over to him, sadness mixed with compassion coloring her translucent features. “I’m so sorry, Love. I should have killed him long ago to avenge your…death. I never figured out a way to do it since the Dark One is immortal, and then I met Emma and I…I chose her over my quest for vengeance. I failed you, Milah…”

She brought her finger to her lip and shook her head to silence him. Then she placed her hand over her heart, before moving it to cover his heart. He understood her meaning and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, Love. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m very happy to have it.” He smiled gently at her for a moment before a startling realization came to him. “Milah,” he said, confusion infusing his words. “How… how are you here?” He stood quickly, not knowing what to think. Could he still be dreaming? Milah shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t be here. This had to be a trick of some kind. Was Gold behind it? Had Hades found some way to return?

Alarmed recognition crossed her face and she reached for him. He stumbled back away from her and she made no further move toward him. In an effort to help him understand, she placed both hands on either side of her head, fingers pointed straight up. She moved them up and down in short, sharp movements that reminded Killian of Hades when his hair erupted into blue flames.

“Hades?” he asked tentatively.

She nodded furiously, her face lighting up with his understanding of her motions. She drew a single finger across her neck in a motion he had no trouble interpreting.

“He’s gone forever, right?” Killian asked. When she continued nodding, Killian felt excitement and hope rise within him. “When he was vanquished, was your soul released from the river?” It was more than he could possibly hope for, but her joyous visage and nod confirmed his speculation. Relief completely enveloped him and he moved closer to her, holding his hand out again. This time, she reached out for him as well. He felt a chill that somehow felt warm at the same time as her hand passed through his. “Oh, Milah,” he breathed. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

Milah smiled gently at him then floated over to his bed and patted the space beside her. He sat down and saw her gesture for him to talk. Taking a deep breath, he launched into the tale of his life after losing her.

*********

Emma was unable to go back to sleep after Killian left. He’d had plenty of time to make it to his ship, yet he hadn’t called her as promised. She was well aware he would have a lot to work through after everything he’d experienced. Becoming the Dark One, dying and going to the Underworld, being tortured by Hades, reuniting with his brother Liam, only to have to say goodbye to him again, not to mention being separated from his True Love, before being sent back to the land of the living by Zeus.

She was willing to give him all the time he needed, but tonight, something was amiss. She could sense there was more to his abrupt departure than simply a desire to get some fresh air. His eyes were…haunted, fearful. She couldn’t help but wonder what he wasn’t telling her.

Sighing heavily, she shoved back the covers and got out of bed. Something was troubling the man she loved and she was determined to help him through it.

*********

Emma drove slowly through the streets of Storybrooke, scanning every street and alley, but didn’t catch sight of Killian. Parking at the docks, she was relieved to see his ship was still in the usual berth. She hadn’t thought he would take the Jolly Roger out to sea this late at night, but she knew how sailing calmed him, so she wouldn’t have been surprised to find the space empty.

Killian wasn’t on the deck, gazing at the stars - another activity that always brought him peace. Emma quickly crossed the polished surface, descended the steps taking her below deck, and walked down the narrow hallway, stopping outside the captain’s quarters. As she reached for the door handle, she heard Killian’s voice and paused. It sounded like he was carrying on a conversation with someone. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but curiosity won out and, in spite of herself, she listened.

“...that’s when I found out Bae had a child with Emma - a boy named Henry. Yes, I know. It came as quite a shock to me, as well. By that time, I was already intrigued by Emma, and also very attracted to her. I hope you don’t mind me talking about her. She’s my True Love and I owe her so much. She’s the one who made me want to give up my fruitless quest for revenge in order to be someone worthy of her love.”

Emma took a step closer to the door, hoping to hear the other person to identify him…or her. Her mind raced as she waited. Nearly everyone in town knew that Henry was Neal’s son, so who could it be?

“I wish you could meet Henry. He’s a wonderful lad - intelligent, kind and brave. Bae would be so proud of him.” There was a long pause before Killian resumed. “He, uh, he died trying to warn the town about a villain. He visited Emma before she went to the Underworld and told her he was in a place where he was happy. Perhaps you’ll be able to take care of your unfinished business and join him there.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. He was talking to someone with unfinished business? Someone who might be able to join Neal, which would mean they were dead…

Suddenly, it dawned on her who it had to be, but how was it possible? Milah had been thrown into the River of Lost Souls. There was no way she could be here talking to Killian. Emma’s mind swirled with doubts. Maybe he needed someone to talk to and couldn’t trust her, so he was talking to the memory of Milah instead.

Unable to quiet the negative voices in her head, Emma grasped the door handle, and after a brief moment of hesitation, pushed inside the cabin.

Killian looked up when he heard her enter, his startled look turning to one of chagrin. “Swan? What are you doing here?”

“I…I was worried when you didn’t call,” she said, looking around the room and seeing no one. “Killian, who were you talking to?”

Killian glanced beside him, where Milah still hovered. “I was…” Turning his eyes back to Emma, he asked, “Can’t you see her, Emma?”

Emma’s brows furrowed. “The only person I see here is you. Were you…it sounded like you were talking to…to Milah.”

He stood, casting a quick look at his first love, then moving to stand in front of his True Love. “Aye, Love. Milah is here, in this room. Her spirit is, at least. She appeared to me in your bedroom and that’s why I left so abruptly. When I reached the Jolly, I found her here, too. I don’t understand why I can see her and you can’t.”

Emma closed her eyes, her heart pounding. If he was telling her the truth - and her lie detector was silent, confirming his words - then Milah was haunting him, no matter where he went. How was she supposed to deal with that?

Tilting her head, she sensed something different about the atmosphere in the room. Breathing in deeply, she caught a whiff of…

“Killian, did Milah smell of lilacs?” she asked, her eyes opening to focus on him. A shocked expression crossed his face.

“Aye, Love. She…she always wore lilac water. I purchased it for her every chance I got. How did you know that?”

“I can smell it, and I feel a…a presence. Can she talk?”

Sadness filled his eyes. “No, she can hear me, but she can’t speak. She has been able to communicate, though. She…she told me it was Gold who threw her into the River of Lost Souls and that she was released when Hades was defeated.”

“Gold did that to her?” Emma spat. “That bastard! I’m already furious over what he did to you and this just adds fuel to the fire! Dark One or not, someday he’s going to pay for all the evil things he’s done, and I, for one, am not going to be sorry about it!”

Killian stepped forward to squeeze her hand, his eyes flicking up behind her. “I think Milah likes you, Love,” he grinned.

“Why do you say that?”

“She’s right behind you, smiling and clapping her hands.”

Emma’s cheeks reddened. “We got to know each other a bit in the Underworld. I liked her, too.” She looked thoughtful. “There has to be some way to allow her to talk to us. Remember when we used that double-ended candle to try to talk to Cora?”

“Aye, but the candle had to be lit over a person’s heart before they were killed in order to use it to communicate with that person’s spirit,” Killian reminded her.

Emma sighed. “That’s right, I’d forgotten that detail.” She chewed on her lip in thought, before speaking again. “I’ll go talk to Regina. There has to be a way.” She pulled her hand out of his and turned toward the door.

He caught her arm with his hook. “Perhaps you should wait until morning, Darling. I doubt the queen will be very amenable to helping us if you wake her in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot what time it is,” she admitted. “I, um, I guess I’ll just go home for a few hours, then. Are you…will you stay here?”

Killian glanced to his right before answering. “I still have a lot I want to share with Milah and I don’t know how long she’ll be able to stay here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Emma gave him a weak smile. “No, I understand. Do you want to come with me to talk to Regina in the morning?”

“Aye, Love.” He pulled her into his embrace. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay, I’ll come by and pick you up around seven,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He put enough distance between them to be able to cup her chin in his hand. “Be careful going home, my love.”

“I will.” Leaning up to whisper in his ear, she asked, “Do you think she would mind if I kissed you?”

He gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure she won’t. She knows we’re True Love.”

She combed her fingers through the hair above his ear. “This is a weird situation, you know that, right?”

He nodded with a lopsided grin and leaned in to share a lingering kiss with her.

“See you in the morning,” she said when it ended, then added, a bit louder, “Goodbye, Milah.” After brushing his cheek with her lips one more time, she turned and left the cabin.

*********

Once Regina heard Emma and Killian relate the events from overnight, she sat behind her desk in the mayor’s office pursing her lips in thought.

“Can you explain why Killian is able to see her, but I can’t?” Emma asked.

“I’m not sure, but my guess would be it’s because Killian is Milah’s unfinished business,” Regina stated.

“That makes sense,” Emma agreed. “I can feel her presence, though.”

“Have you any ideas for how to talk to her?” Killian inquired.

Regina considered for a moment. “Using the enchanted candle to talk to her definitely isn’t an option. The phone booth in the Underworld was a way for the dead to communicate with the living, but we don’t have anything like that here. You obviously don’t want me to ask Gold for help, or Belle for that matter.”

“Absolutely not,” Emma said emphatically.

“We don’t want the crocodile to know that Milah has made an appearance,” Killian added angrily. “If I had my way, I’d send the bloody bastard back to the Underworld, never to return. Hades wasn’t the one who threw Milah into the River of Lost Souls. It was Gold. He needs to pay for what he did. It wasn’t enough for him to kill her in front of me in the first place, but he had to sentence her to eternal torment, as well.”

Regina’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know all the details of what happened between Rumplestiltskin and Killian Jones, but she could certainly understand Killian’s anger and wanting to make sure ‘the crocodile’ paid for what he’d done. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about Gold. If you recall, he’s the Dark One and can’t be killed, no matter how much all of us would like to see it happen. Now, let’s focus on the problem of how to communicate with Milah. Do you have any idea how long she will be haunting you, Hook?”

Killian shook his head sadly. “No, but I have a feeling it won’t be very long. From the first time I saw her until she left this morning, her form had already faded substantially.”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Regina said, walking around the front of her desk and crossing her arms. “I know she probably didn’t come through a portal from the Underworld to get here, but I wonder if being close to one will give her more strength and help her be able to speak.”

“You mean the one in the duck pond?” Emma asked.

“Do you know of any other?” Regina snapped, her sarcasm in full force.

Emma chose to ignore her snark. “I think it would be worth a try to see if she’ll join you there, wouldn’t it, Killian?” At his nod of affirmation, she added. “How would you feel about Henry being there? If Milah is able to speak, he would get to talk to his grandmother.”

“I think that’s a grand idea, Love. I told her about him and what an exceptional lad he is, and I’m sure she would appreciate the chance to see for herself.”

“Is that alright, Regina?” Emma asked.

“Of course. I don’t think he would find meeting the spirit of his grandmother any more disconcerting than any other adventure he’s experienced since he brought you to town. He planned to spend the day at my house playing video games. I’ll pick him up and meet the two of you at the pond.”

“Do you think Milah will find you there, Killian?”

“She found me at your house and on my ship, Love.”

“Good point. Well, let’s see if this works,” Emma said, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before they headed out the door.

*********

Returning to the place where Emma was forced to run Excalibur through Killian was difficult for the couple. As they drew near the exact spot where it happened, Killian heard her breath hitch and he tightened his grip on her hand.

Regina and Henry arrived a few minutes later and joined them at the edge of the duck pond.

“Mom says Grandma Milah appeared to you, Killian,” Henry said excitedly. “Is she here now?”

“Not yet, lad,” Killian said.

“We’re not sure she will be, Henry,” Emma said.

“Yeah, Mom explained that to me. She also said Grandma can’t speak, but I’m still glad you wanted me to be here.”

They waited for several minutes, as Killian scanned the skies for any sign of Milah’s ghost. The only sounds heard were the birds in the trees and the occasional quack of a duck swimming past, until Killian declared softly, “She’s here, right over the center of the pond.”

“I was going to ask if she was,” Emma said. “I thought I felt her presence.”

“There is definitely a stirring in the atmosphere,” Regina remarked.

“Is she trying to say anything?” Henry asked.

“No,” Killian answered, “she’s just watching us.” Suddenly, the water in the pond began rippling as a breeze blew across it. “Hello again, Milah. Someone is here to meet you.” He stepped over behind Henry, putting his hand and hook on the boy’s shoulders. “This is Henry, Baelfire’s son.”

“Hi, Grandma,” Henry said, his eyes darting back and forth across the sky. “It’s nice to…kind of…meet you.”

“She’s smiling at you, lad,” Killian assured him.

“I wish I could see you. Were you the one who churned up the water?” Henry asked. In response, a stronger breeze blew, causing small waves to form in the duck pond. “That’s a cool trick, Grandma!” he laughed.

A chilly wind swept past the group, rustling the leaves on the trees. “Is Milah doing that, too?” Emma whispered.

“Aye,” Killian answered, his eyes following the movement of the specter only he could see. “Something seems to be distressing her.”

“I think I see the source of her agitation,” Regina remarked, her brow furrowing in concern. “Here comes Gold. He must have sensed a supernatural disturbance, too.”

The man came stumping up the path, slowing as he took in the scene before him. Seeing the group assembled by the pond, he asked, “What are you all doing here? Are you trying to cast some sort of…” His words came to a stop as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise. “M-Milah?”

Another rush of cold air swept past them, strong enough this time to shake the tree branches and increase the turbulence of the water. “Seeing him has made her extremely angry,” Killian explained.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Regina remarked.

The wind kicked up even more, causing dust and debris to swirl around them. It seemed to center on Gold, making him duck down and cover his head. “Get away from me, you vile woman!” he screamed. “You’re supposed to be in the River of Lost Souls!” At his confession, the wind picked him up bodily and slammed him to the ground, stunning him as he hit his head on a rock.

“And YOU’RE the one who threw her into it!” Killian shouted.

Gold raised his hand to his head, wiping at the blood over his brow. Suddenly, it was if something grabbed him by the ankles and began dragging him toward the pond. “NO! NO!” he screeched, attempting to crawl back up the path.

“Grandpa!” Henry yelled.

There was a loud whooshing sound and they turned to see a vortex rising up out of the water, the force of it beginning to pull Gold toward it. He continued to scream his protests, his fingers scrabbling in the dirt as he was dragged backwards. They watched incredulously as he flew past them, too quickly to even attempt to grab him.

He was caught up in the vortex, which spun across the surface of the pond. Emma gasped as she spotted something moving behind the trees. “It’s Charon’s boat! Why is it here?”

“Gold is tethered to the Underworld through his blood,” Regina explained, shouting to be heard over the tumult. “The blood from the gash on his head must have gotten into the water and summoned Charon.”

The four people on shore watched the furiously swirling waterspout until it reached the boat, where it suddenly disappeared, depositing the helpless Dark One in a heap in the middle of the vessel.

Gold’s blood curdling screams echoed through the air as Charon guided the boat toward the portal to the Underworld. The moment it passed from view, his cries were silenced and they knew he was gone.

“Look!” Henry cried, pointing at the sky.

Emma, Killian and Regina turned to see a black vapor in the shape of the Dark One’s dagger hanging over the pond. As they watched, it dissipated, completely disappearing within seconds. “Does that mean what I think it means? What I hope it means?” Emma asked.

“No more Dark One? The Darkness is gone forever?” Regina questioned, turning back towards the others.

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means and now I can finally be free,” a serene voice said from behind them.

“Milah!” Killian gasped. “You can speak!”

“Rumple silenced me when he threw me into the river,” she explained. “Now that he’s gone, he has no power over me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“I’m sorry you lost your grandfather like that, kid,” Emma said, putting her arm around Henry’s shoulders to comfort him.

“Yeah, me too, but he had a lot of chances to give up the power of being the Dark One and he never did. He loved power more than he loved me, Belle, and even my dad, so I guess he deserved what he got.”

Killian patted him on the back, then looked at the specter hovering in front of them. “You did it, Milah. Everything he ever did to us has now been avenged,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, it has,” Milah said, her voice sounding much thinner. “My time here is drawing to a close, so I have to say my goodbyes.” Killian watched as a wide smile spread on her lips. “I can see Killian was right when he told me how special you are, Henry. I just wish I had more time with you. When I move on, I will tell your father what a fine young man you became.”

“Tell him…tell him I miss him,” Henry said.

“I will,” she promised.

Emma stepped up beside Killian and stretched up to kiss his cheek.“We’ll give you a chance to say goodbye,” she whispered. “I’ll be home if you want to come by afterwards.”

He nodded and watched her walk away with Henry and Regina. Turning back to Milah, he saw her translucent form was fading quickly. “I’m very happy I got the opportunity to bid you a proper goodbye, Love.”

“So am I. Oh, my love, I’m glad we were able to have so many wonderful adventures together.” Her voice grew so faint, he had to listen intently to hear her. “ Emma is good for you, Killian. It’s wonderful that you’ve found love again and you’re finally moving on. I can see that you’re really happy.” She paused for a moment, then- if it was possible for a ghost- she sighed. “I’m your past and she’s your future.”

“You’ll always have a place in my heart, Milah. You were my first love.”

“Yes, and I will always love you, but Emma is your True Love. You deserve happiness with her.”

“And you deserve peace. I hope you find it.”

“Now that all of my unfinished business has been taken care of, I’m sure I will.” Swooping down, she brushed her nearly invisible fingers across his cheek. “I must go now. Goodbye, my love.”

“Goodbye, Milah.”

He stood transfixed, staring at the sky for several minutes after her form disappeared. The sadness he had carried in his heart for so long over the loss of Milah, was replaced with relief and joy.

Finally, he turned and began walking back to town, where he knew he would find Emma waiting.

He saw her sitting on the steps of her house when he stopped in front of the gate. Looking up at him, a warm smile crossed her face, and he returned it with one of his own. Stepping through the opening, he moved toward his future.

*********

Was I the only one who thought Gold should have been held accountable for what he did to Milah? Or that Killian should have had the chance to say goodbye to his first love? Please let me know how you felt about it.

Special thanks to the people who have held the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event for many years now. It's always a lot of fun!

And thanks to all of you for reading, commenting and reblogging!

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#csff #cssns23 #captain swan supernatural summer #saying goodbye and moving on #jrob64 #art by krystal #manip by motherkat #canon divergent #fix it fic #ouat fanfic #ghost story #milah gets justice #rumple gets what he deserves #one shot

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