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seungrem · 8 days

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Seonghwa (Ateez) x male!reader

Burying the Hatchet

request ~*+ - masterlist ~*+ - part 1 of ??

summary: Though rival mob bosses separating their territories by north and south, m!reader and Seonghwa frequently bump into each other at socialite events. With tension building up in m!reader’s half of the city, he needs decide whether or not to confide in his connections for support.

( overview: mafiaboss!seonghwa, mafiaboss!reader, both socialites and well known, reader controls the south, seonghwa controls north, associates/goons = mob members, Ricky (zb1) feature because he’s very mob coded, reader is lowkey tsundere, established non-romantic relationship w/ eachother, reader inherits wealth, the park family = seonghwa’s mob group )

( warnings: mentions of plausible violence (guns/fighting), blood, injuries (scrapes/bruises/cuts), hostile personalities, mentions of psychotic/psychopathic behavior, threats, cursing )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story/series )

-🧸 ( very light fluff )

🫧 ( pieces of angst here and there )

🪐 ( mafia / mob AU )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Chatter echoed through a ballroom bustling of attires fit for only the most affluent. If it were up to him, ☁️ would be perched on the mezzanine, people watching until the gala had concluded. Instead, he walked into room preparing a flashy smile to anyone who would have the misfortune of catching his gaze.

“Can I take your jacket for you, sir?”

As ☁️ awaited the host of the gala’s presence, a teenage boy wearing a tuxedo approached him. The boy flinched slightly as ☁️ turned in his direction, ☁️ assuming he was just someone who worked there.

“No- I’ll keep it, thank you. Could you tell me where Ricky is, though?” ☁️ asked, turning his attention back to the crowd of people in the distance.

Though the two were the same age (early 20s), Ricky had made a name for himself apart from his parents- unlike ☁️. The man had the city’s media in a chokehold, with news of his whereabouts and appearances circling weekly. In contrast, ☁️ had inherited his parent’s wealth and “business” after their passing. The public also kept a close eye on him, but for reasons less alluring.

“Last I’ve seen he was on the other side of the room beside the DJ. Here’s your pamphlet.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ replied, him then taking the paper and watching the boy scurry away. He sighed as he flipped through the pages, reading carefully over the guest list and seating arrangements.

‘What the hell is Seonghwa doing here?’ ☁️ muttered to himself before taking a few steps toward the crowd. Recognizing a familiar face slip out of the mass and approach him with a smile, he quickly placed the pamphlet into his suit jacket as he walked.

“☁️, how have you been?” Ricky called out, waving to the man as the two closed the distance in between them. It was then that the two embraced, holding each other for a moment more. ☁️ noticed Ricky’s navy blue suit had a velvet look to it, him feeling the texture as he held onto the man’s forearms.

“I’ve been great, how about you? And what happened to the blonde?” ☁️ responded, smiling and then pointing to Ricky’s hair. The last time that he had seen Ricky, the man had bleached his hair a platinum silver. Now, his raven-black hair was slicked back, with a few strands falling onto his forehead.

“I’ve been better, and my roots grew out so I just dyed it back to a natural color. But listen, before you leave tonight, I’d like to speak to you. In the meantime, you need to do your rounds.”

☁️ huffed, knowing that this meant he had to greet everyone.

“We’ll be fast.” Ricky assured, once again grabbing the man’s arm and escorting him through the crowd.

☁️ smiled, introduced himself, shook hands, and kissed cheeks more times than he remembered that night. Following a conversation with a couple, Ricky led ☁️ out of the crowd, the two now standing for a moment.

“We done?” ☁️ asked, exhaling.

“One more. You aren’t going to like it, but please be respectful. I don’t want my gala to become a war-zone.”

“Is it Seonghwa?”

“Yes. But-“

“Why the hell did you invite him?”

“I do business with him just as I do with you. I’m prompting neutrality.”

“Understandable. But why do I gotta go over to him?”

“Because you two aren’t going to mean-mug each other all night like you did last year. That caused problems, did it not?” Ricky led ☁️ to his table, the two sitting beside one another.

“I don’t even have my guys with me tonight.” ☁️ argued, though he knew was simply delaying the inevitable.

“Neither does he. It’s invitation only this time.” Ricky’s tone was calm and fresh, though firm. ☁️ didn’t want to push his buttons, ultimately deciding to get it over with.

“Alright, let’s go.” ☁️ straightened his tie and stood up, Ricky following.

“Last I saw him he was standing beside the DJ’s stage. Let’s walk behind it.” Ricky said, motioning ☁️ to follow him.

The two tiptoed around the DJ’s elevated setup, emerging on the other side of the room after carefully stepping over wires and boxes.

“There he is. Behave, please.” Ricky whispered after leaning into ☁️.

“Always.” ☁️ muttered back before noticing that Seonghwa had three of his goons around him. The man leaned his back against a column and looked around the ballroom. He wore a bold outfit- a shiny gold top (that exposed some of his cleavage) with a brown fur coat and grey dress pants. His hair was in an up-do with strands hanging in front of his eyes, and silver chains dangled from his neck. ☁️ thought that Seonghwa was insanely hot, especially in this outfit, but would never vocally admit it.

“You said invitation only, Ricky.” ☁️ muttered through his teeth.

“It was... Let’s just make this quick.”

As the two approached Seonghwa, two of his goons noticed and walked over to his side.

“Seonghwa. I’m sure you remember ☁️.” Ricky chirped, hiding his nervousness very well. ☁️ and Seonghwa stared at each other for a few seconds before ☁️ forced a smile and held out his hand.

“I’m sure you’re well.” ☁️ remarked dully, watching as Seonghwa took his hand and squeezed. It took everything in ☁️ not to call him an asshole, but Ricky was luckily there to mediate.

“I am. It seems like you’re here alone tonight.. what a shame.” Seonghwa replied in his usual deep voice, ☁️ watching the man look him up and down.

“I’m here to donate to a charity, not intimidate socialites with my goons.” ☁️ kept a straight face, but wanted to laugh in Seonghwa’s face. “And you look rediculous.” ☁️ whispered after leaning into Seonghwa, only taking a step back when Ricky grabbed his arm and muttered a ‘Jeez.’ Seonghwa sneered and looked around in response, licking his teeth as he nodded in amusement. ☁️ could tell he was already ticked off.

“I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?” Seonghwa nodded his up as he spoke, patting ☁️ on the arm and nodding to Ricking before departing to his table with his goons.

“You couldn’t have made that any worse.” Ricky whined, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at ☁️.

“Somebody has to humble him.”

“I don’t want any bad blood here, ☁️.”

“I said that I understood. If he can’t take criticism then maybe he shouldn’t be The North’s premier mob boss.”

“Well Southside’s premier mob boss seems to not know how to behave.”

“I was-“ ☁️ paused. “Well… He’ll be fine.”

“Right.. I’ve been meaning to talk to him so I’m going to do that now. The service should begin in the next few minutes. Make some friends while you’re here, you need them.” Ricky said before he began walking away. ☁️ gasped teasingly, the two smiling to each other as the distance in-between them grew.

—

His footsteps tapping up the staircase’s crimson-colored carpet, ☁️ was on the hunt for someone specific. He stepped onto the mezzanine and walked over to the beige railing, him then leaning against it. Scouring over the many faces on the dance floor and sitting at tables, ☁️ found that Seonghwa was nowhere in sight despite having seen him before the service had begun. Assuming that the man had left early, ☁️ frowned and turn around.

“Whatcha doin’?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the wall a few feet in front of ☁️. The man’s goons weren’t next to him, but ☁️ could see them on the other ends of the mezzanine through the corner of his eye.

“I was looking for you. Have a minute?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and walked over to ☁️, standing beside him.

“Make it quick.” He muttered, looking down at the people below.

“I received this letter a few days ago. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about it.” ☁️ pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Seonghwa.

“People still write letters?” Seonghwa said with a scowl, pulling a piece of paper out of the envelope.

“So is it safe to assume that you weren’t the one to send it?”

Seonghwa took another minute to analyze the letter.

“No.. not my style... Whoever did hates you, though.” Seonghwa whispered, handing the piece of paper and envelope back to ☁️. “What’s the red stuff at the bottom? Don’t tell me it’s blood.”

“It is. Instead of signing a name, the blood is suppose to be the signature. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“Wow.. you really pissed someone off. Did you figure out whose blood it is?”

“Mine.”

Seonghwa laughed and turned to ☁️.

“So someone wrote a letter threatening you, somehow got ahold of your blood and smeared it onto the paper, and then mailed it to you?” Seonghwa shook his head with a smile. “Good luck, really. You need it.”

“I thought that you’d be more helpful. That’s all I needed, though. Have a good night.” ☁️ said, turning to walk away. Seonghwa quickly gripped his shoulder and stopped the man in his tracks. ☁️ to looked over his shoulder somewhat menacingly.

“Do you need help? Seriously.” Seonghwa’s unserious smile quickly turned into an expressionless display of concern, as he slightly leaned into ☁️.

“Never will I need your help. Stay on your side and I’ll be fine.” ☁️ quipped, brushing Seonghwa’s hand off of his shoulder and stepping away. He stopped upon hearing Seonghwa continue.

“I hate you.. but don’t die, please.”

“The hell are you talking about?” ☁️ snapped, looking over his shoulder again.

“That’s psychotic behavior, ☁️. You can’t just have one of your guys find and take care of ‘em.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t just some guy on the street.”

“No shit.” ☁️ rolled his eyes. “I have to go, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa remained silent, watching as ☁️ strolled back down the staircase.

“How the hell did they know it was there?” ☁️ walked up the stone walkway to his home, with two of his associates following beside him. The mansion had been broken into, with a suitcase full of hard drives having been taken from ☁️’s chambers.

“Respectfully sir, we suspect a mole in the group. After the passing of your parents, the associates haven’t necessarily been well-monitored.” The older man beside ☁️ replied, opening a door for him as the three arrived to the entrance.

“Please get in touch with the gentleman who set the security systems up.” ☁️ paused as he stepped inside. “Actually, I’ll just do it. You two should go home for the night.”

“But sir, we really think someone should stay with you until everything’s resolved.” The second associate replied, following ☁️ as he unbuttoned his suit jacket in the spacious living room. The room glowed in orange and yellow hues from the lit fireplace. ☁️ sighed and turned to his two henchmen, a sense of nervousness trickling down his spine. He wondered if he could trust them, but also wondered if there truly was an outsider out to get him as Seonghwa suggested.

“I’ll take care of myself and this.. situation. Please, go home.”

“At least let me contact the programmer. I’ll get him here as soon as I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

1 week later

“Two events in a row? This must be a record.”

☁️ felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Seonghwa smirked, looking ☁️ up and down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Wasn’t sure why you invited me.” ☁️ replied, crossing your arms.

“Oh, here I thought that you wanted to support charities..”

“You held a gala one week after Ricky and invited me on short notice.”

“Seems that I did. So?”

☁️ exhaled. “Thanks but I should go.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa held his hand out to stop the man. “I heard things weren’t going well on your side of the city. You sure you don’t need help?”

☁️ looked around the crowd of people surrounding him. This ballroom was smaller than the previous gala’s, but just as loud. ☁️ leaned into Seonghwa, who reacted by leaning forward as well.

“If I find out that you’re playing me again, it won’t end up for you.” ☁️ murmured into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa leaned back up, with a seemingly offended expression.

“Are you accusing me of what’s going on?”

“No, simply warning you- just in case. I need to go.”

“☁️.”

☁️ turned around and slid past people to get out of the crowd.

“☁️!!”

☁️ froze as the room went silent. Everyone turned to Seonghwa as ☁️ slowly turned around to glance back at the man. An awkward silence filled the air for a few seconds, with Seonghwa not taking his eyes off of ☁️. After the chatter picked back up, ☁️ continued out of the room, leaving an abandoned Seonghwa alone on the dance floor.

☁️ walked through the hallways and toward the glass double doors, waving down a bellman as he did so.

A few photographers stood behind red ropes, clicking their cameras immediately after ☁️ began descending quickly down the white staircase. A few began shouting out to him.

“Hey, ☁️! What’re you doing in The North?”

“Have you and the Park family finally made amends?”

“You look great tonight, ☁️!”

☁️ smiled and waved as a bellman pulled to the curb with his grey sports car, getting out as soon as ☁️ reached the sidewalk. The bellman handed the keys to the man as the two walked past each other, ☁️ then jumping into the drivers seat.

“Hey, Mr. ☁️. The programmer was able to stop in today.”

“That’s great, has everything been recovered?” ☁️ responded as he walked into his home, an associate beside him.

“He said he needed a password.”

“To the computer? Why didn’t you call or text me? Is he available tomorrow?”

“He’s still here, just using the bathroom. I’ll tell him you’ve arrived after you put your password in.”

☁️ looked over to the associate after hanging his suit jacket up.

“It’s midnight.”

“It’s the only time he could come this week.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow and walked to his chambers past the living quarters and down the hall. After his shoes tapped echoed through the hallway, he leaned into the double doors, pushing them open. The lamp on his desk was already turned on at the other end of the room. ☁️ also noticed that the associate was still behind him, him turning to the man before walking inside of the room. He was suspicious at this point, hearing more voices in the living quarters.

“Why don’t you go let the programmer know that I’m back. Please tell the other associates that they’re good to go, as well. I don’t need anybody here right now.”

“You want us to leave you alone with the programmer? What if he tries to-“

“That’s an order. I’ll see you tomorrow.” ☁️ narrowed his eyes, allowing his voice to become slightly belligerent.

The associate sneered and nodded, turning around and walking toward the living quarters. ☁️ sighed and closed the chamber doors behind him, walking toward the desk in front of the large stain-glass window. Bookshelves covered the left and right walls, and though the room wasn’t huge, the ceiling was very high up.

☁️ walked around the other side of the desk, sitting down and tapping the computer’s keyboard to turn the device on. He didn’t put his password in, choosing to wait for the programmer to arrive. Another thirty seconds passed before the oldest associate opened the room’s doors, walking in.

“☁️. Do you have a moment?”

“Where’s the programmer?”

“I think he’s still talking to the other associates. I think we should speak in the meantime.” The associate called out, standing at the door.

“Come.”

The associate strolled slowly over to the side of ☁️’s desk.

“What did you want to talk about.” ☁️ asked, giving the man his attention.

“You know, your father and I were extremely close. He entrusted me to do everything beside him.”

“Yes, I remember.” ☁️ nodded, tilting his head to the side.

“He also hated the Park family with every fiber of his being. And I know that you’ve been going out of your way to attend Seonghwa’s galas.”

“To support his charity and rebuild my family’s reputation. Yes.”

“Do you think that your father would’ve wanted this? To knock down the legacy that he has built?”

“Excuse me?” ☁️ snickered. He felt his body become tense, and his tone dull.

“I just think that with you as the head of this.. well, what used to be a mob group, you’ve dug our reputation into ground.”

☁️ felt his body heat up, making him stand up and grab the associate by the collar. The associate responded by pulling a gun out from his back pocket and pointing it at ☁️’s head. ☁️ exhaled and let go of the man’s collar, putting his hands to his sides.

“You need to give this up, ☁️. It’s in your best interest. Your father wouldn’t want this.”

“And his inability to be harmonious with other people is what got him killed.”

“Put your password into the computer so I can put this gun down.” The associate muttered, tapping the gun against ☁️’s head.

“No.”

“Please don’t make me do this.”

☁️ laughed.

“You’re not gonna have the password if you do ‘this.’”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, then.” ☁️ laughed again, pausing before quickly shuffling to the side and knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. The gun landed on the desk and slid across it, falling off on the other side. ☁️ leaped over the desk and grabbed the gun before the man could snatch it, ☁️ then kicking his knee out while still on the ground. The associate quickly stood up and ran toward ☁️ as he got on one a knee. With a loud bang, ☁️ shot the pistol, hitting the associate in the leg. The man fell to the ground and clutched his knee.

“Fuck.” ☁️ muttered under his breath, putting the gun on safety mode and into his pocket. He grabbed his computer from the desk and threw it through the stained-glass window, shattering it. The door then slammed open, with a bunch of ☁️’s members running in. After seeing the older associate on the ground, the group whipped their guns out and pointed them at ☁️. The man was already halfway out of the window at this point, him having jumped through the hole and falling into the bushes below. With scrapes and bruises along his body, ☁️ rolled out of the bush and secured the laptop beside him- though he presumed it broken. He shot up and ran alongside the mansion’s side, hopping over the iron fencing as soon as he reached the front of the building. ☁️ considered taking one of his cars, but quickly realized that the keys were still inside.

Continuing to run through the forest, he eventually emerged into the city after a few minutes. ☁️ noticed a university campus in front of him as he wandered, him power walking through it and waving a taxi down. He ran to its side and jumped in, him recognizing the driver as he did so. The two stared at each other through the rear view mirror before the driver smiled.

“Oh, right- you’re ☁️. I worked a lot with your father.”

☁️ froze with his hand on the car’s handle, preparing to run out.

“Your family has helped mine out a lot. But anyway, where to?”

“Can you just drive, please?” ☁️ asked nervously, his hand still on the handle.

“Sure thing.”

The two drove in silence for a minute before the driver pulled up to a red light.

“You alright? You look pretty disheveled there, chief.”

“Yes, just some work issues.”

The driver chuckled. “Your dad had the same problem. I’d always wait a block or two away after he handled business, and he’d come running over with ripped clothing and red fists.” He paused. “I’m a bit relieved that the whole mob business thing is dying, though. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

☁️ pondered his words, repeating them in his head before responding. “..Yeah, I’m relieved as well. Can I bother you to drop me off in The North?”

“Oh, sure. I heard that you buried the hatchet with the Park family. That true?”

“I think that’s what I’m going to do now.”

“I see. Is there somewhere specific in the North?”

“Do you know where that gala was held today?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll have you there in a few.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, it’s an honor to help you through this last hurrah. I hope it goes well.”

“Thank you sir. How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t look like you have anything on you, respectfully. Just get me back next time you see me.”

☁️ nodded and slowly turned around toward the large building in front of him. There were no photographers, no red ropes, and no people wandering around at this point. With his computer under his arm, he began up the steps.

Upon walking through the glass doors, a receptionist was packing her belongings in a large purse.

“Oh, Mr. ☁️. Are you looking for the gala’s after party?” She asked as the man approached her desk.

“Ah- yes, I am. Can you tell me where it is?”

“It’s down the hallway to your left, the last door down. Also.. you’re bleeding a bit..”

☁️ looked down to where she pointed, seeing small patches of red stain through his white button-up shirt.

“Oh.. yeah, it’s just part of the outfit. Thank you though.”

“Oh, ok.. Have a goodnight.”

“You as well.”

☁️ continued down the dark hallway, stopping in front of a frosted glass door with loud music playing behind it. Streaks of blue, pink, and white flashed across the glass as he pushed the door open. The room was pretty big, with confetti and balloons spread across the floor. A group of around a hundred people danced in front of a smaller DJ booth, with a few wallflowers conversing amongst each other with glasses in their hands. ☁️ walked over to a table full of champagne glasses, grabbing one and sitting in the nearest seat against the wall. He plopped down, leaning his head against the wall and chugging the glass. He looked around, though couldn’t see Seonghwa from where he was. It didn’t help that the room was somewhat dim, with pink lights illuminating half of the room from behind the DJ. Spotlights also casted quick flashes on the dance floor, them occasionally dancing across ☁️’s body as he sat.

Choosing to calm down before searching for Seonghwa, he opened his computer and tapped the keyboard. Surprisingly, it survived the seven foot fall and still worked- the only flaw being a few cracks in the top corner of the screen and a few missing buttons on the keyboard. ☁️ sighed and placed the computer on his lap, him then closing his eyes.

“Psst. Hey, sleepy head.”

☁️ heard someone whisper from beside him, making him jump. He opened his eyes and looked to his left, seeing Seonghwa sitting beside him. He clutched his computer and looked around, seeing that everyone was preparing to leave the party. The music had stopped, and a few workers were vacuuming the carpet. Seonghwa’s face was barely visible in the dim, pink lighting, though his voice was softer than ☁️ had recalled. “So, you came back..?”

“…I think I need your help.” ☁️ hummed.

Seonghwa smirked. “I won’t rub it in your face even though I wanna. Do you need a place to stay?”

☁️ nodded, standing up as Seonghwa did. Seonghwa placed a hand on ☁️’s back, guiding him to the exit. The flashing lights turned into white spotlights that illuminated the exit at this point.

The two followed the crowd out of the room and down the hallway. As they walked out of the glass doors, ☁️ recognized the cars lined up on the sidewalk, with multiple bellman awaiting the guests at the bottom of the stairs.

“We’re all the way in the front.” Seonghwa stated, walking down the staircase with ☁️ and turning right down the sidewalk. A bellman approached the two, handing Seonghwa a pair of keys. He unlocked the red sports car and removed his hand off of ☁️’s back, hurrying in front of the man to open the vehicle door for him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and attempted to hide a smile as Seonghwa gestured him inside. As he sat down, ☁️ covered the patches of red along his top with his arms and hands. Seonghwa shut the door and ran to the other side, him hopping in and hurrying to start the car. After a few seconds, the two were speeding through empty city streets.

“Have you ever been to this part of The North?” Seonghwa asked with a tender tone, turning to ☁️ as he pulled into a lofty condo complex’s garage.

“This is my city. Of course I have.”

“Our city.” Seonghwa retorted.

☁️ smiled at the answer, opening his door after Seonghwa had parked on the highest level.

“We’ll have to take the elevator to the lobby, and then we’ll take a different one to my place.” Seonghwa stated from the other side of the car. ☁️ waited for Seonghwa to lead the way, but upon standing beside ☁️, the man froze.

“What the hell happened?! You’re bleeding.”

“I know.” ☁️ sighed, him having forgotten to cover the red stains.

“You’re explaining everything once we get inside.”

“Ok.”

Seonghwa linked his arm with ☁️’s, ☁️ speculating that Seonghwa thought he was too badly injured to walk by himself, which elicited the act.

The two quickly reached the elevator and stepped inside. With mirrors along the walls, a gold accent lined the corners of the elevator. Seonghwa leaned forward to press a button, and the two were soon moving up.

“Are you tired?”

“Extremely.” ☁️ replied monotonously.

“I could tell by your tone. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep in my guest room.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the guest room.”

“No. You can take the bigger bed.”

☁️ was too tired to argue back, instead choosing to lean against the mirror as the elevator continued. After a few more seconds, the door buzzed and the two walked through. The lobby’s lights were dim and the spacious room was empty. The men walked across the marble floor to another elevator, Seonghwa pressing the button again though the elevator doors opened immediately. The two walked through, and Seonghwa pressed the button of the highest number- 16.

“You’re on the highest floor?”

“Yes. It’s a penthouse with lots of windows , you’ll like it.”

The two stood silent for a few minutes until the elevator buzzed again, the men stepping out into a small walkway. Taking a few steps forward, Seonghwa flipped a switch, which turned on a small lamp above the two of them. He then pulled out his keychain, picking out a key and twisting it into the black door.

“After you.” Seonghwa said, gesturing ☁️ forward. Seonghwa’s penthouse was full of monotonous colors and exotic furniture- definitely a reflection of his personality. Small lamps lit the space as the two walked into the living room area. Large windows sat on each side of the walls, with the moon peering down from the large skylight above.

“I do like it.” ☁️ murmured as he moved his arm away from Seonghwa’s. Seonghwa simply smiled in response.

“Let me show you to the room.”

“Show me the guest room.”

“No.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, following Seonghwa down the end of the hallway. He switched his lamp light on, it illuminating the large bedroom. The walls, bedsheets, and furniture were all visually-pleasing shades of grey. The windows on the right side of the room touched both the floor and ceiling, stretching across most of the wall to reveal a beautiful view of the city. To the left, a door led into another room.

“Just sit on the bed. I’ll get you some new clothes and medical stuff.” Seonghwa instructed, walking into the bathroom. ☁️ walked to the bed and sat, him waiting for the man to come back out. After a minute, Seonghwa walked toward ☁️ with a small bottle, cotton balls, along with a roll of bandages and placed it beside ☁️. He then trudged over to the wardrobe across from his bed, opening it and throwing a pair of green and blue pajama pants with a white tee onto the bed.

“Those are old so they should fit you. Do you want me to get out while you change?”

“I don’t care, just turn around.” ☁️ replied taking off his pants and unbuttoning his top as Seonghwa faced his wardrobe. He threw the man’s pants on but put the tee around his neck, exposing some of his stomach and arms.

“Okay.”

Seonghwa turned around and sat on the bed. ☁️ pushed the shirt away from his arm for Seonghwa to clean.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”

“My associates tried to overthrow me and take over my company’s accounts. They said I wasn’t being a mob boss.”

“Is that where the letter was from?”

“I think they’ve been planning this for a few months now. They probably got ahold of my blood after your guys tried to take over my company’s building. Your goons show no mercy.” ☁️ chuckled, but Seonghwa frowned.

“I didn’t initiate that, by the way. That was my father, and we’ve.. talked about it.”

“It hasn’t happened again, so I don’t care.��

After a few seconds of silence, Seonghwa continued disinfecting, and then wrapping ☁️’s arm.

“So what specifically happened?” Seonghwa asked.

“Well, I got home from the gala. I was told someone was coming in to help me retrieve missing data from drives that were stolen after Ricky’s gala last week. I’m pretty sure they lied, and one of my guys cocked a gun at me and told me to unlock my computer so they could use the drives they stole. I didn’t do it obviously, and I ended up shooting him. The gun probably fell out of my pants when I jumped out of the window and ran into the city.”

“You jumped out of a window?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly worried. He wrapped the bandage around ☁️’s arm and clipped it so that it stood in place. ☁️ lifted his pant leg up to expose another cut, him then scooting back on the bed to put the cut beside where Seonghwa sat.

“Do you mind?” ☁️ asked, looking over to Seonghwa.

“Not at all.” He replied, preparing another cotton ball to use.

“And.. yeah, I kinda did. It was only six or seven feet and I landed in a bush. So it was fine. I used this to smash the glass.” ☁️ said, pointing to the computer that he placed beside him. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“I have another that you can use.” Seonghwa said as he applied alcohol to the cuts.

“I have important filled on there. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet.”

The two remained quiet again until Seonghwa finished wrapping the wounds.

“Alright, you should be good.” He stated, grabbing the used cotton swabs and walking into the bathroom with them. ☁️ grabbed the alcohol bottle and roll of bandages, carrying them back into the bathroom for Seonghwa.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning. You should rest.” Seonghwa said, watching ☁️ sit back down on the bed, Seonghwa then walking to the lamp.

“Before you go-“ ☁️ blurted out, stopping Seonghwa.

“Hm?”

“Why’re you helping me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Why’re you doing this for me?”

“Because I like you, despite the “conversations” we’ve had in the past. And we’re not like our parents.”

☁️ nodded.

“Sleep well.” Seonghwa called out, turning the light off.

“Wait-“

Seonghwa turned the light back on, exhaling. “Yes?”

“Sleep in your bed.”

“I already told you I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then move over.”

☁️ scooted back toward the wall with the windows so that Seonghwa could sit in front of him. Seonghwa leaned over to turn the lamp off before pulling the covers over the two of them.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I worried about you a lot.” Seonghwa muttered, him then turning his body to face ☁️.

“Shouldn’t have.” ☁️ murmured in response.

“Well, I did.”

☁️ smiled. “Well, thanks for worrying.”

Seonghwa smiled back, grabbing ☁️’s hand from under the blanket. “Do you mind?”

“No.” ☁️ hummed before turning his body around. He scooted his body back to lie against Seonghwa’s. Grabbing the man’s hand and pulling it over his waist, then two now laid together a spooning position.

“Goodnight, ☁️.” Seonghwa whispered.

“Goodnight.”

a/n: genuinely can’t tell if my stories are good anymore 😄 hope u enjoyed tho! alsoooo gonna be a part 2- just to follow up and see how the reader and seonghwa build a relationship together while the reader is still under the other mob’s protection. def gonna be more fluff and character development in that one!! there can be ❄️ if u guys want it bad enough lol

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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sebscore · 2 years

Text

BROTHER DUTIES | CHARLES LECLERC

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: harassment. swearing. barking of a dog.

word count: 1.8k

author's note: reader is a teenager. feedback and requests are always welcome.

• • • • • • •

''Charles, bring your sister to school and take Cinnamon with you. '' His mother yelled from downstairs. The young man groaned but got up from his desk anyway, knowing better than to ignore his mom's wishes.

The Leclerc Family had been babysitting the dog from a friend of theirs, who was on a two-week trip to North America. He had asked the family if they would take his dog, Cinnamon, in for those two weeks and they had happily agreed. Cinnamon was a bulldog, who despite her appearance, was a very sweet and affectionate creature. The Leclerc siblings had gotten along great with the dog, especially their youngest, Y/N. She had always wanted a pet, but they move around a lot for Charles and Arthur's races and their mother doesn't want to put that kind of pressure on an animal.

''Can't Enzo do it? I'm in the middle of a game, Maman.'' Charles complained walking into the kitchen, where his sister and mom were eating their breakfast. His mother gave him a stern look. ''He's not home and you should get out of your room for once.''

He sighed, but nodded anyway. ''Alright, I'll go get Cinnamon then.'' Charles left the kitchen in search of the dog, while also grabbing her collar.

''Are you done, Chérie?'' Pascale asked the young girl, moving some strands out of her daughter's face. ''Yes, I'm done.'' Y/N got up from her chair and put her plate in the dishwasher.

Charles walked back into the kitchen with Cinnamon on a collar. ''Ready to go, little monster?'' He asked his sister, all ready to leave the house. ''Charles, don't call me that, it's embarrassing.'' Y/N said, slapping her brother's arm.

She grabbed her backpack and walked up to their mother. ''See you later, Maman.'' The youngest bid goodbye to her mother with a kiss on the cheek. Charles did the same after and the two Leclercs were out the door.

''Did you have a lot of homework?'' Charles started the conversation. It had been a while since he and his baby sister had spent alone time together. She couldn't join him at most of his races, since she still went to school in Monaco and their mother didn't want her to abandon her education. In his opinion, he hadn't been a good older brother to her and he realized he should take this oppurtunity to catch up with her.

Y/N shook her head, finding it amusing that Charles wanted to know about her homework. ''I just have a math test today.'' She answered him, while looking at Cinnamon.

''Oh, well, you're good at math, that shouldn't be too hard.'' Out of all the things he could have started talking about, he asked about school aka the last thing teenagers want to talk about.

Y/N laughed out loud, not able to hold it in. ''Charles, you're so bad at talking.'' She teased her older brother. ''Hey, I'm not bad!'' He defended himself.

''You keep telling yourself that,'' she told him, ''hey, can we stop by the kiosk?'' There was this kiosk a few minutes away from her school where students often bought their food and drinks. Charles looked at her in confusion. ''Why? You just had breakfast?''

''I just want a smoothie, Charles.'' She didn't wait for his reply and walked to the kiosk, Charles trailing behind her with Cinnamon. ''Hey, don't just walk away on your own like that.''

''I just remembered I forgot my wallet at home,'' she feigned innocence, ''do you mind paying?'' By the end of her sentence she had looked at him with doe-eyes, knowing it would work on him.

He knew exactly what she was doing, but who was he to say no to a face like hers? ''Like I was going to let you pay anyway.'' He said, while pulling out his wallet from his pants.

Y/N ordered what she wanted and waited by the space where they handed out the drinks, meanwhile Charles waited to pay.

While he was busy texting someone back, he failed to notice the older man approaching the place next to his sister's. Charles also failed to notice the man inappropriately touching his sister.

Y/N was in her own world, waiting for her smoothie to be handed over to her. She was pulled out of her trance when she felt someone's hand on her butt. She looked up to see the man giving her a smirk, before taking a few steps back.

She was too shocked to say anything back to the man, standing in silence for a few seconds. She looked over at Charles who was just done paying for her drink.

''Charles, that man just touched me.'' Y/N told him in a hushed tone, not wanting to make a big scene. ''What?'' His head swiftly turned to her, not believing what he was hearing. ''That guy who's sitting on the bench, he grabbed my ass.'' Her eyes started watering, feeling dirty from the creepy man's unwanted touch.

Charles took a look at the man who was just checking out a woman coming out of her car. He was absolutely disgusted by this man's behavior. ''Wait for one second, here,'' he handed her Cinnamon's collar, ''I'll be right back.''

Before he could fully step away from her, she grabbed his arm. ''Charles, no, it's not worth it, we can just go.''

''No, Y/N! It's not okay that he did that and I'm gonna tell him that,'' Charles put his hand on her shoulder, ''you stay here with Cinnamon, your drink is almost ready.'' With that he turned around and walked up to the man.

''Did you just touch my sister?'' Charles went straight to the point, not planning on upholding his ''nice guy'' demeanor. ''Your sister? I don't know what you're talking about, man.'' The smirk the man had on his face, pissed Charles off. It was as if he was proud that he had harassed someone.

''Don't play pretend, you fucking touched my sister.'' Charles continued, not backing down when it came to his family. The man stood up from the bench. ''I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, little man.'' He was significantly taller than Charles, but that didn't intimidate the young Monegasque.

''Apologize to my baby sister, you asshole.'' The man seemed to have the temperament of a toddler, because in a matter of seconds he grabbed Charles' shoulders and pushed him away, resulting in Charles almost falling to the ground.

The man was about to continue, but Cinnamon came to his aid. She had been carefully watching the two interact and when the creep pushed Charles, she reacted quickly. Y/N didn't expect the dog to run towards her older brother and she wasn't able to hold on to her collar. ''Cinnamon!''

The dog didn't attack the man, but her barking was enough for him to take a couple of steps back and eventually walk away entirely.

''Charles, are you okay?'' Y/N put her smoothie on the counter and ran to her brother, who had quickly grabbed Cinnamon's collar, so she couldn't potentially attack the man.

Upon seeing his sister, he hugged the young girl. ''I'm fine, little one,'' he pulled back, but kept his free arm around her, ''you know, how about we go home?'' He suggested.

''I don't know, Charles.'' She was hesitant about skipping school, not sure if it was a good idea or not. ''We're gonna go home, I'm sure Maman won't mind when we tell her what happened.'' He guided her back into the direction of their home, wanting to get away from the place as fast as possible.

''Wait, don't forget your drink.''

◦◦◦

Pascale was confused as she heard her daughter back in the house. ''Y/N? Why aren't you at school?'' Her mother was about to start scolding the young girl for not going to school, but upon seeing her daughter's facial expression, she ran to get her girl in her arms. ''What happened, Chérie?''

''Some creep touched her, Maman!'' Charles exclaimed, taking the collar off Cinnamon. ''What do you mean someone touched her?'' Pascale took Y/N's face in her hands, observing if her daughter had anything on her face that indicated she got hurt or something.

''Come here, my girl.'' Her mother engulfed her in a hug, feeling all the relief that she didn't seem to be physically hurt. ''I feel so dirty, Maman, he was so gross.'' Being in her mother's arms seemed to make all the emotions come undone in the young girl. Charles joined them, wrapping his arms around to two women he loved most in the world.

''Go take a shower, Chérie. You'll feel much better after.'' Her mother urged her, pulling away from her embrace. ''Okay.'' With a kiss from her mom and Charles, she made her way to the bathroom.

Charles could see his mother was distraught, so he pulled her in his arms. ''Don't worry, Maman. We'll keep her safe.''

Pascale loved all of her four children, but her baby girl will always have a special place in her heart. She adores her three boys, but she wanted nothing more in the world than to have a little girl that she could pamper for the rest of her life. So, when Y/N was born, it was like the gods had listened to her prayers. Their parents thought that the boys would have a problem with having a little sister, but as soon as Lorenzo, Charles and Arthur had held the newborn in their arms, all those worries went away. Her brothers would protect her with their lives.

Y/N went to bed earlier than usual that night, reveling in the comfort of her own room. The other two brothers had been informed about the events of that day and Pascale had told them to give their younger sister some space.

Charles was about to go into his own room, but he couldn't help but want to check up on her. He knocked on her door, but he didn't hear an answer, he figured she had already gone to bed. He quietly opened the door and saw her laying in her bed, but she turned around upon hearing her door open.

''Hey,'' Charles sat himself down on her bed, ''how are you feeling?'' Y/N shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing how she felt about the situation. ''I don't know.''

''That's okay, that happens sometimes.'' He wanted her to know that whatever she was feeling, it was valid. She could feel however she wanted to feel.

''Thank you for standing up for me, Charles.'' Her voice came out smaller than she wanted to, it made her feel low. ''You don't have to thank me for that, you're my sister.'' He jokingly squeezed her cheek, trying to make her feel a bit better.

''Still, I really appreciate it.'' He could see in the way she was looking at him that she was grateful for his presence and for how he had stood up for her to the man. ''Go to sleep, Chérie, I'll see you tomorrow.'' Charles kissed her forehead and stood up from her bed. ''I love you.''

''I love you too.''

• • • • • • •

the first fic that I've written for charles. he's so precious, I can't.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x oc #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fics #formula 1 fic

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ma-ri-yana · 7 days

Text

Castaways

A/n: helloooo. Thank you once again for checking this out! As usual, I hope you enjoy and have a great day :D lmaooo I almost forgot to add chapter links.

Warnings: a little bit of cannibalism because the ghouls have to eat sometimes.

Brief summary: you are an alien on your way to visit another planet when your space ship is attacked and you crash land on Earth. The Ghoul is hunting down his next pay check and finds you. The story is set thirty years before season one.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

You’d made it out of Wyoming after a few days and travelled along the border of what used to be North and South Dakota. Along the way, you’d encountered a few raiders and cannibals, some other bounty hunters still trying to cash in on Elena Zakharova’s person; but you didn’t really have to lift a finger, the guys had you covered on that front. That was mainly because your brothers felt it necessary to “keep you out of the way” so you wouldn’t stop them from outright killing people. The way you did that night when you had pressured them to welcome the two irradiated humans into your group. Your brothers and the ghouls made sure to aim for the head whenever an attack occurred to prevent you from getting any ideas about helping the aggressors. It was just another way they held you back from your “naivety” as James liked to call it.

You weren’t going to lie and say you were okay with all the death that seemed to drown you. You’d argued with them tirelessly; worried they were giving up their morals and ideals. Maybe they weren’t as attached to them as you were. It bothered you that the simple change of location was enough for them to drop their principles. The things they were taught, the things they grew up valuing. If you were to think back to the comfort of your own home, a place where rules existed and society felt obliged to assist one another —to an extent—, you would not have dreamt of even holding a conversation with a murderer. Yet here you were, travelling with and trusting your life to four of them. Maybe you were too harsh in your train of thought. Too judgemental. You weren’t home, after all. You were stranded on a planet over a hundred light years away with no way to communicate with your people without giving away your location and risking your lives. You had to understand, to some extent, that you were all doing your best, even if you didn’t agree with the methods.

You bit your lip as you continued to ponder, walking along the sandy landscape. It seemed all the fighting brought the men together because the further along the wasteland you all travelled, the friendlier they were to each other. They even joked about their kills. It made your face twitch in irritation. You’d expected it from the humans, but not your brothers. They were raised differently. It must’ve been some kind of a trauma bond kind of thing. Or maybe it was simply your brothers finally coming to terms with your situation and letting go to their circumstances. More so Nikkand’r than Dimiil. Dimiil always held himself up to some kind of standard of decorum, even if this situation was unbecoming of him.

The terrain of the Earth that you’d gotten to see so far was… boring. At least in comparison to your home planet. But you still marvelled at it as you passed. You found a lot of the mutations to be gross, you weren’t going to lie, the grossest being rad roaches, of course. You squirmed every time they came into your view. They’d always laugh at you for it. Well, they all did, except for the Ghoul. That man always looked out for you. He’d immediately shoot and kill them the moment he’d caught them in his line of vision. Luckily, because of this, you didn’t see them as often as any normal human who’d lived in the wasteland would have. And while you weren’t a fan of death, you also weren’t a fan of being eaten by those things. For all the judgement you passed along to your companions, maybe you weren’t any better than them.

Neither of you had spoken about the moment you’d shared in the lab, the one where you’d almost kissed. But the two of you seemed to have an understanding of sorts, of how much you cared for one another. You didn’t need to talk about it because he showed you with his actions. The way he protected you from everything; not to the point where you were left ignorant to the world around you, but he comforted you when you felt uneasy. He knew he wouldn’t be doing you any favours by shutting the world away from you, but he always made it known he’d be there for you. He knew you were a pacifist, and while he didn’t hide you from the violence this world forced onto its people, he made sure you wouldn’t have to act as a result of the violence. He knew you wished to help people and he didn’t necessarily get in your way, but he made it known to you after some time that he wouldn’t outwardly assist by working on the people himself. He’d advise you against it, as the rest of the group did, but he wouldn’t stop you the way they did. The two of you had a deep, mutual respect of one another. He felt as if you connected him to the man he used to be before the Great War and shortly after. Back when he wasn’t so jaded.

When he and James had left for the younger ghoul’s ranch for the horses, he had picked a white one for you. It was very rare to find a spotless, white horse, especially in the new world. But the moment he laid his eyes on it, he thought of you. You were too chicken to ride her on your own, of course, so he let you ride with him. But you kept the horse with you and cared for her anyway. Since you weren’t riding her yourself, everyone loaded their items on her, naturally. When he’d brought the horse to you, you pointed out how the life forms on Earth seemed so mundane and expressed how much you loved that. The Ghoul chuckled to himself because he knew that was far from true and that it was just another one of those things you’d learn sooner or later on your journey. Anything on this planet was far from mundane.

You were halfway across the state when you came across what used to be the Standing Rock Reservation. He told you all to remain cautious and do that “x-ray thang” with your eyes as your horses threaded through the reservation carefully. Luckily, the area seemed as though it had been abandoned. At least for the first hour or so of passing through.

That was when you heard it, the sound of a child crying. Your brothers caught it when you did too but the two humans couldn’t. It was too far and quiet for their ears to register the noise. You looked around but couldn’t see anything. You instructed the Ghoul to have the horse continue walking in the direction you heard it coming from. He expressed his confusion and you just told him to trust you. He nodded and directed the horse towards the path you’d pointed out to him. The rest of the group followed scrupulously. They didn’t have to be too cautious, the area wasn’t heavily wooded, but that didn’t mean the creatures in the place couldn’t hide anywhere, either. Between the few trees that populated the area and the giant hills and mountains here and there, there was always room for some human interaction that could range from somewhat positive to downright abysmal.

“Stop,” Dimiil commanded, you let out a sigh in annoyance as a result. “It’s an ambush.”

“So what? You’re gonna let that kid get killed?”

“Better her than us,” Nikk scoffed.

“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?” The older bounty hunter turned his head to look at you as best as he could.

“I take it your sweetheart is gon’ get us killed with that lil’ nice girl act she’s got goin’ on, that’s what,” James pulled out a cigarette to smoke. “Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

“Darlin’, we can’t go ‘round savin’ everybody… You’re askin’ us to get in a whole lotta trouble for what—“

“Incoming,” Dim announced, putting up the forcefield the aliens had used on them when they first encountered the very humans they travelled with. A considerably large bullet shell bounced off the barrier.

“See what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, hon?”

“I got this,” James announced, pulling out his pistol and pointing it at one of the natives he’d seen running in between one of the scarce trees.

“No! Nononono!” You and your fellow aliens yelled in unison to no avail, the human had already fired a shot. He had aimed at your attackers but the bullet simply hit the barricade and ricocheted back in their direction.

They moved out of the way as quickly as possible but James took a hit to the shoulder. He didn’t seem too phased by the pain and simply took out one of the chems you’d prepared for him out of his pocket and plopped it into his mouth, “I’m gon’ need some more of these later, girlie.”

“Do not, I repeat, do not shoot at them while this,” Nikk pointed at the forcefield, “is up. Or you will fuck us.”

“Well, I say to hell with that thang and let’s kill us some smoothies. I’m hungry,” James twirled his pistol by the trigger circle in his index finger. The motion—and his words—made you feel uneasy.

“We will not kill anyone,” you protested as more bullets bounced off your invisible wall.

“They’re shootin’ at us!”

“We’ll be fi—“

“Enough. We’ll take care of this,” Dimiil nodded at the two humans. He then turned his head toward you. “You can stay and take care of the horses.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you crossed your arms. “You’re just gonna have me sit here while you fuckers destroy an entire village?”

Dim and Nikk turned their heads and nodded at each other, “yes,” the eldest alien answered calmly. “Unless you’re willing to partake?”

You grumbled and looked away, focusing your eyes on yet another native that shot at the forcefield that shielded you all, “I will not.”

“Okay then. You can stay here.”

“Can’t we just… go through?”

“You know very well this doesn’t last long,” Nikk answered telepathically, not wanting to risk anyone having that information. Not the ghouls and definitely not the humans shooting at you. While you knew no one understood your native tongue, there was no guarantee in your minds that you were entirely safe to freely speak your thoughts.

You sighed, “fine. But promise me she’ll be safe.”

“Girl, for all you know, they could be usin’ her as bait for suckers like you. She’ll turn on us the moment she sees her friends are dead,” James spat his excess saliva on the ground.

“How could you be certain?”

“I can’t. But I ain’t gon’ risk it for the sake of your little experiment,” he shrugged. “We goin’ or what?”

You stayed quiet as the older bounty hunter jumped off his horse and helped you down. He ruffled the top of your head, messing with your disguised hair. “I’m sorry, bunny, I can’t promise you nothin’…”

You fixed the hair that framed your face, tucking a big strand of hair behind your ear as you looked away from him. “Yeah yeah,” you muttered.

“Thank about it, sweetheart, the more mouths we gotta feed, the harder it’ll be to get where we need to go,” the younger ghoul took another puff of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it. “We’ve already got all these fuckers to feed, includin’ ourselves.”

You nodded, not wanting to keep the argument going any longer, wishing it would all be over already. You watched as the forcefield went out for a second to allow the males to step out of it, guns blazing. That invisible shield went back up the moment they’d stepped out. You leaned on your horse as you watched them blow those poor people’s heads off. Grimacing as you watched the scene play out in front of you. You didn’t quite understand how they all managed to remain stoic—how the two humans seemed to enjoy themselves, even smiling as they pulled their triggers. But something you understood even less was how your brothers seemed so unphased at the prospect of taking those human lives. You grew up in the same household, after all. But then again, their training in the military back at home was slightly different than yours. Theirs was more combat oriented—yes, you were all trained to be spies first and foremost, but they were trained to be more combative while you were trained in more intelligence based fields such as chemistry and stealth. That kind of explained their nonchalant attitude. Even if you had just rationalised everything in your mind not too long ago, their blatant disregard for the lives of intelligent beings still took you off guard.

You watched as they advanced to the centre of the town, surrounding themselves in the town’s population. “Ghouls! Kill them!” You heard the townsfolk yell, prompting your confusion. Did the Ghoul know these people? Why were they yelling his name? Had he been there before? You wouldn’t be surprised. The humans told you they’d tracked Elena around all over the place, this could’ve been one of her stops before the Anthraxans cut her thread of fate.

The yelling didn’t last very long, silence engulfed you in the matter of seconds. You held your breath. You sighed with relief when that girl’s crying resumed. You dropped the forcefield and ran over to meet your group, opening the container that was placed in the middle. The container the girl had been stuck into by her fellow villagers. “My name is Jessie,” you heard her mutter to herself. The Ghoul shot you a sorrowful look but you were unsure why. His eyes told you he knew more than he was letting on. “My name is Jessie,” she repeated, her head shook frantically, growling in between. You pulled her out and hugged her, the Ghoul stepped up only to be held back by James.

“She’s gotta learn,” he mumbled to his friend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jessie,” you smiled softly at her. “I’m Y/n.”

“My name is Jessie,” the girl repeated, her growls becoming more agitated, furrocious. That’s when she made a move to attack you but before the little, irradiated girl could strike, the older bounty hunter shot her in the head. Her blood splattered all over the left side of your face, blue tears started to stream down your cheeks.

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“She was gon’ kill ya, darlin’,” he answered you softly, a pitiful look on his face as he walked closer to you and tried to pull you into his arms. You backed away. “She was goin’ feral. This is what happens to people like us when we’re not properly taken care of. We go nuts and start attackin’ anyone and anything in our path.”

“We could have helped her then!” You screamed, enraged and overcome by your grief for the girl you never got to know. “We could’ve medicated her! Like I’ve been medicating you! She was sick!”

“That’s different, honey… She was too far gone. Once the process starts, ya can’t reverse it. What I did just now was a kindness, believe me. It ain’t right to let people live like that.”

“I warned you,” James chuckled. “Don’t expect everythang to be peaches n’ cream. This place ain’t been nice to nobody for two hundred years,” he looked up at the sky ruefully.

The older bounty hunter held his hand out to help you up but you didn’t take it. You pushed yourself off the sandy ground and wiped your blue tears off your cheeks, sniffling and pushing past him to get back to the dead irradiated human girl. You stroked her stringy hair, some of it fell out in your hand as you did. You felt Dimiil place his hand on your shoulder, “we need to go.” You ignored him and continued to cradle the girl in your arms. He shook you by the shoulder and forced you to get up by dragging you up himself. “Nebby. Let’s go.”

“Girly don’t wanna leave without burying the whole village, does she?” James cackled and shook his head, “we ain’t got time for all of that. Not unless you feel like adding more bodies to the pile. I got a feelin’ that ain’t all of ‘em. I suggest ya move whatcha momma gave ya.”

The Ghoul held his hand out to you again. You wiped your tears and sighed, letting him lead you back to his horse and letting him help you climb it. He climbed up right after and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He turned to wipe the blood off your face. You stayed quiet as he did so. You didn’t want to look at him, not right now, at least. He then put his handkerchief back into his pocket and grabbed your hands from behind him, placing them on his waist to make sure you were holding onto something before the horse started moving again. “It’ll all get easier with time, sweetheart. You’ve just got…” he sighed, “a lot to learn.”

After having ridden for a while, you finally let your anger drop, your head along with it as you leaned on the Ghoul’s back. You found yourself crying again, “she wasn’t going to do anything…” you insisted.

The Ghoul turned his head to try and get a look at you, but he couldn’t see much aside from the top of your head that you’d buried into his back. “She was going to and I couldn’t let her try,” he answered patiently, looking ahead again as you all continued down the Standing Rock landscape.

“It’s getting dark,” Nikkand’r spoke, “let’s set up camp.”

“Alright. I don’t know about you fireflies, but I’m gettin’ me some shut eye tonight.” James climbed off his coffee coloured horse.

Nikk nodded, “you humans can get some sleep tonight. We’ll keep watch.” You started setting down two blankets on the ground for the ghouls to lay on. “You get some sleep too, sis.”

“I slept last night, though.”

“And you’ll sleep tonight too,” Dimiil cut in with a smile. “It’s not fun picking on you when you’re sad.”

“Look at the bright side, at least your face didn’t get chewed up. Just imagine, if she would’ve chewed your face off— your exposed teeth showing through your ripped up cheeks. Ooo—“ he shuddered obnoxiously. “That would’ve been gnarly.”

“Thanks, Nikk. I needed the visual.” You rolled your eyes.

“See? I made it fun… for myself. It’s all about perspective, Dim.”

“Praise be to Yevnologin for not making you any more insufferable than you already are,” the elder alien muttered, raising his arms in worship as he looked up to the stars.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” The youngest was never the religious type.

You scoffed, Dim kept ignoring his annoying brother’s attempts at jokes and turned to you. “Seriously, rest. Get yourself together. We’ve got a long journey ahead and can’t really afford for any one of us to ‘go nuts’ as those humans would say.”

“I’ll try to if I don’t end up having nightmares about the poor girl splitting my head open,�� you glared at your younger brother who simply snickered in response. Boys are gross, you thought to yourself as you pulled a third blanket from one of your bags and set it on the floor. You laid down and stared up at the starry sky. You couldn’t fall asleep for the life of you. Between the thoughts that raced your mind and the cold nighttime air, you were struggling. No one prepared a fire that night. The aliens didn’t feel like it was necessary and thought it smarter to leave the world in darkness in order to avoid unnecessary attention. As a result, you shivered in silence but took advantage of the darkness to turn off your disguise. You listened as your brothers paced your little camp. They were close enough for you to hear their footsteps and chatter but far enough for it not to disturb anyone’s slumber.

“You chilly, doll?” You hear the Ghoul whisper to you from his spot on his blanket.

You ignored him, turning your body in a different direction so you wouldn’t face him. You didn’t need to answer, he could see you shivering and hear your teeth chattering. You heard him sigh and walk over to you. You felt him place his frayed coat over your body. “I could’ve grabbed another blanket for myself,” you grumbled to yourself. That’s when you heard some more shuffling and felt one of the blankets that were packed cover you. He didn’t mind the attitude, he was happy to hear something. Even if it was for much, he was grateful you hadn’t become mute.

“You warm now, sweetheart?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He made these gestures without the assumption of getting anything in return from you. He just wanted to make you comfortable in a world that ripped comfort away from its inhabitants. You ignored him again. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate his simple deeds, you were just upset that he wasn’t upset the way you were. That he could do these things and not bat an eye. That he’d killed the girl knowing you’d only wanted to help her. He walked in front of you and sat a foot away from your face. “You understand why I did what I did, right?”

“Good grief, I’m tryna sleep here, people!” James groaned, stirring in his slumber. The Ghoul sighed and bore daggers into his head with the look he shot the man.

You turned the other direction to indicate that you didn’t want to speak to the irradiated human. You heard him sigh. You don’t think he left that spot either since you didn’t hear him get up. You didn’t hear any shuffling or any footsteps to indicate that he had. Instead you heard him dig into one of his pockets and smelled the change in the air; he was smoking a cigarette. Those two men kept each other’s smoking habit alive much to your chagrin. Your olfactory receptors were not accustomed to that habit of his, you didn’t have those things back at home. The things people smoked on your planet were either scentless or flowery in scent. Of course, you could smell the charred undertones but that came with anything that was lit on fire. But that was rare. Only the puritans smoked the old fashioned way. Most chose to smoke through inhalers and the product within the inhalers didn’t burn, they boiled. Much like the way that the Ghoul had previously ingested his chems before you took over making them for him.

If you were honest, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why you were upset with the Ghoul specifically. Aside from the fact that he had shot the little girl who sat in your lap, her blood spattering on your face. He had explained why he did what he did. Logically speaking, you understood his reasoning. Was it because you wanted nothing but to reach out to him for comfort? But you felt wrong for seeking his comfort? You wanted him? The heartless human who killed others like him without sparing a thought for them? That wasn’t true. If he were completely heartless, he wouldn’t have treated you the way he did. Or did he coddle you because he felt indebted to you for convincing your brothers not to take his life? Why did it matter to you? It’s not like you were compatible with his lifestyle. He was accustomed to the filth and toxicity of his environment and you weren’t. You grew up in a world where your life was stable and privileged; a place where laws and values still ruled it’s society. A world where you had a right to live. In this world, life was something one fought for and earned. And how much of a fool were you to get so attached to this stranger you’d only met weeks ago? You only knew him as Ghoul and you weren’t entirely sure that was even his real name.

You couldn’t sleep like this. Not with him watching you like he was afraid you’d fall apart if you fell out of sight. You didn’t take any pleasure in avoiding him. You considered him a friend, your rock. You were just confused. Why were you even angry in the first place? It wasn’t really new information that he killed people. You groaned, aggravated with yourself. You took the blanket that the Ghoul had placed on you and brought it over your shoulders as you got up and stomped off to where your brothers were. You needed some kind of a distraction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, sissy?” Nikkand’r called out once you reached his line of vision. You shrugged and told him you couldn’t sleep. He didn’t need to ask, he knew you too well not to know what was going on in that brain of yours.

But Dimiil beat him to the punch, “you’re being a hypocrite, you know that, right?” You crossed your arms, you didn’t argue with him. He was right and you knew it. “We’ve been killing people left and right and you haven’t once flipped out on us?”

You purse your lips and hesitated to make your admission but went ahead anyway, “it’s not like I haven’t been upset with you guys.”

“I know,” he paused, “and yet, here you are speaking to us instead of the man you’d rather be with.”

You scrunched up your face, “what the fuck are you on about?”

Nikk interrupted and spoke as crudely as he usually did. You feigned shock anyway, trying to pretend that what he said was unfathomable and wrong. “What he's saying is that you obviously have a crush on him and you’re sexually frustrated and making it everyone’s problem. He likes you too, you doof. Go and talk to the guy so we can stop hearing you cry about this shit.”

“You talk to Wanda with that potty mouth of yours?”

“Of course not. She’s my angel. You’re a gremlin. Now go. We gave you the night off so you could get your shit together.”

“Speaking of Wanda, how is she?”

“Stop trying to change the subject and go,” Dimiil cackled. You grumbled to yourself. They were right.

You walked back to where the rest of your party sat and slept. The two humans were in the same spots as when you’d initially walked off. James was snoring from his spot on the ground and the Ghoul was looking down at his feet as he smoked that horrible cigarette you hated so much.

“I suppose…” The Ghoul heard your soft voice ring in his mind as you sat back down on the dirty ground in front of him. He looked up at you, curious to hear what you were going to say. You didn’t look directly at him, opting to alternate your gaze between his hat, his bare hands, the nasty stick he held between his fingers. You weren’t bad at apologies but you weren’t particularly enthused about admitting you were wrong, especially about this specific topic. “That you were right to do what you did. I’m sorry for having been rude to you for it…”

“I’m sorry for upsettin’ you, darlin’,” he lamented sincerely, he reached out and placed his bare hand on your cheek. You leaned into its warmth.

“That poor girl…” You weren’t quite ready to let go of the grief you felt for the girl. But you were ready to forgive him for putting her out of her misery. Maybe it really was the most humane thing he could do for her.

“She was dead already,” he caressed your chin. He could feel the tears streaming down from your eyes and moved his hand up to wipe them away. You made a move to climb onto him and straddle his lap but he placed his hand on your shoulder and stopped you. He shook his head and you could feel your heart fall into the ground and shatter into a million pieces. “I respect you too much…” He could tell by the look on your face that you were devastated and he took no pleasure in it. You moved back and covered yourself again with that blanket, using it to comfort yourself from his rejection. You looked away, embarrassed and dejected. You didn’t notice him leaning over until he’d moved your head back in his direction by the chin. He slowly brought his lips closer to yours but he stopped short of actually kissing you. He resisted his urge to, though it was getting increasingly difficult by the second. “I just want to make sure you don’t do anything you’ll regret, sweetheart.” He whispered, his eyes darting back and forth between your violet irises and your plump lips.

“Why would I regret this?”

The Ghoul shot you a look of despair, he didn’t tell you what he was thinking. His insecurity was what held him back from touching, kissing and feeling you the way he wanted to. How could you look upon his scarred face and find any semblance of someone to love? It didn’t make sense to him. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck and moved up to catch his lips in a kiss. Your kiss had a sense of urgency to it, you pulled him down to bring him closer to you. He almost gave in to his desires and met you with the same sense of haste, he felt his pants get tighter; but then he slowed the kiss down, softened it. He pulled back in spite of his growing bulge, “sweetheart, please don’t take this the wrong way…” You slowly opened your eyes, afraid of what he was going to say. “It’s not that I wouldn’t love the pleasure of your company in… this kinda way. I’d just… like to do right by you. I don’t want to rush you into anything. And you deserve so much more than this dirty sand.” He stroked your hair and pecked your lips softly. He desperately wanted to feel them crash against his scarred lips again but maintained his self control.

The snoring stopped. “Uh-uh,” James protested loudly. “If y’all are gon’ get to fuckin’ each other like some fuckin’ rabbits in heat, I’m gon’ kindly ask you to either let me get in on the action or knock it off so I can get some sleep. I can hear y’all devourin’ each other from here, fuckin’ animals,” you heard him grumble.

The older ghoul rolled his eyes, “we weren’t doin’ none of that, ya degenerate. She’s a lady.” He yelled out and winked at you, letting his scarred mouth crack a smile at his own statement.

You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, “thank you.” You whispered. He wasn’t sure how to take that. Were you grateful he’d stopped you from having sex with him? Were you grateful that he stopped you from making the worst mistake of your life? Were you embarrassed that you might have been linked with engaging in a sexual activity with him and grateful that he’d stopped the idea from spreading? It was almost as if you were listening to his thoughts because in that moment, you spoke again. “Thank you for always looking out for me.” You clarified and pecked his lips. You stood up and bent down to take his calloused hand in yours, leading him to the blanket that had been sprawled on the floor earlier. You laid back, using your elbow to prop yourself up and patted the spot next to you. “Will you at least keep me warm, Ghoulie?”

How could he resist you? He shook his head and his worries away and kept that lopsided smile on his face as he climbed into the spot you’d cleared for him. He wrapped his arms around you and you did the same, laying your head against his chest. “Did you know those people?”

“Hm?” He had already started falling asleep when you blindsided him with your question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard those villagers screaming your name, I was wondering if you’d met them before.”

The old ghoul snorted, “no, sweetheart. I’ve never met ‘em.”

“Then how did they know who you were?”

“Whatchu mean, sweetheart?”

“They were yelling your name…” You repeated.

Then it clicked for him, for some reason, it hadn’t the first time. “My real name ain’t Ghoul,” he chuckled softly. He then sighed, the smile falling off his face. “Ghouls are… well, what I am.”

“Irradiated humans?”

“In a sense, yes.”

“Ah…” you mumbled, finally drawing the connections in your mind. “Then what’s your real name?”

He kissed your forehead, “you can keep calling me Ghoul for now.” You pouted but you weren’t going to keep pushing the subject. Clearly, he didn’t want you to know. You weren’t sure why. A name was a name, it wouldn’t do him any harm to tell you who he was but that wasn’t your decision to make. You shuffled in your space a bit to get more comfortable, your index finger traced circles around his chest as you found yourself drifting into sleep. He spent the next few minutes, wrestling with his thoughts. Debating with himself why he felt the need to keep that part of himself hidden when he wanted nothing but to share himself with you. It wasn’t like he was trying to erase his past—no, he wanted to remember it. No matter how painful it was, he needed to remember who he was. It was part of the reason he was able to maintain a friendship with James. He realised his hesitance was futile. He wanted to build something honest with you and he needed to be honest to do that. He cleared his throat and just as he was about to speak, he heard a faint whimper escape your lips. You had already fallen asleep. Then a question popped into his head that tanked his mood: what was the point if you were just going to leave him anyway? It’s not like he’d be able to convince you to stay, would he? He sighed. Maybe he’d just go along with this and try to enjoy your company anyway.

The next morning, you woke to the harsh sun beating down your face once again. You stirred in your sleep as you were pulled out of your slumber by the merciless star. You didn’t want to get up, you wanted to sleep a bit longer. You had gotten plenty of sleep but you still felt like you could use some more. The world was heating up around you and the layers of fabric that covered you made the heat unbearable. You threw your half of the blanket off and sat up. The human’s eyes snapped open as soon as you did that, immediately noticing the absence of your touch. He watched you adjust to your environment and saw you look down at him. He gave you his lopsided grin. You smiled back at him softly.

“Rise and shine, motherfuckers,” Nikk’s voice boomed, loud music blasted from seemingly nowhere. He danced around your forms like he was performing some kind of a ritual. James groaned and yelled at your brother to turn that goddamn noise off and sat up, as did the Ghoul. The younger ghoul grabbed a rock and threw it at the obnoxious alien. Unfortunately for the human, he missed. The younger human told him once again to turn it off so they wouldn’t attract any Dakotan wildlife to the group. The alien assured him no one could hear his noise but them. Much to their chagrin, the music kept blasting and the alien continued dancing. James muttered something about this being some kind of CIA torture technique. He piped down when Nikk then started to throw random chunks of meat at the two ghouls that they caught midair with ease. It became apparent to them that your brothers had gone back to the village and cut up the dead bodies at some point in the night to feed the humans. Nikkand’r wasn’t big on sharing his food and was tired of the ghouls stealing his chips. Did he have any confidence they’d keep their calloused fingers off his snack stash? No. But he figured minimising their appetite would help.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” You looked him up and down judgmentally. You were still grouchy from having just woken up; you weren’t much of a morning person. You definitely weren’t in the mood for the ruckus this early in the day.

Your younger brother shrugged, “maybe the sweet taste of violence has rejuvenated me!”

“Where’s Dim? He’s given you way too much creative freedom.”

“Here, just had to walk Marge.” Dimiil came back into view with his pet wolf by his side.

“Can’t find time for a girlfriend but he makes time for a dog,” Nikk crossed his arms and leaned on his left foot.

The ghouls were only partly invested in the conversation at this point. They were more interested in devouring the tasty pieces of bright red meat that laid in their laps.

“That’s what happens when you don’t listen to your sister. You end up fumbling a pretty girl and become old and alone with ninety dogs.” You teased.

“For your information, Jaina and I were gonna go on our third date before we got stuck in this shithole—“

“This is our shithole, thank you very much. I’m very proud of it, actually,” the Ghoul jested as he chewed on the raw meat, waving the chunk of meat around as he spoke. He liked to talk with his hands. Human meat was a delicacy, —or so he convinced himself— it didn’t need to be cooked or seasoned, in his opinion, at least. But he wasn’t in the mood to eat the skin, so he pulled it off before taking another bite.

Dimiil chuckled, “no offence.”

“Offence has been taken,” James added, speaking with his mouth full. You marvelled at him, it was a wonder the food didn’t spill out from the exposed parts of the man’s cheeks.

The look of surprise on Nikk’s face was priceless, but he wasn’t paying attention to what had captured your eyes. “What? Why didn’t you say anything? This whole time we thought you pussied out and didn’t even try calling her—“

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell.”

“That is the lamest thing I have ever heard come out of that crusty ass mouth of yours—“

“And we’ve heard you say your fair share of corny shit, dude,” you cut in as you and Nikk laughed hysterically, high fiving each other. He high-fived you and mumbled something about being happy you were back. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Y/n.”

“Ohhhhhh shit,” Nikk put his hand to his mouth. “It’s a showdown,” he danced to the annoying music he played.

“Seriously, are you on something right now?” You side eyed the alien.

“Hey, don’t take your anger out on me, take it to the source! Are you just gonna let him talk to you like that?” The youngest instigated, howling with laughter. His music still blared in your minds.

You saw a bright white ray of light shoot out and pushed your brother to the ground. As a result of having pushed him down, a strand of your hair was cut by the ray of light as it passed. The Ghoul raised his bald eyebrow in confusion, whipping his gun out in an instant. Dimiil noticed another light fly toward him and immediately brought his wrist up so he could use his watch to put up the forcefield that had protected you on and off in the past. Your antennas emitted a blue light. “It’s them, isn’t it?” He said to no one in particular. He was frightened. The three of you were, you knew what you were up against.

The two humans weren’t necessarily as frightened, maybe it was because they were confident in their ability to fight for their survival. Or maybe it was because they were simply ignorant to their new enemy. In any case, no one answered the eldest alien, too focused on getting their own weapons ready. Not that they particularly needed to, he was just trying to alleviate his mind of the stress caused by their impending doom.

The three aliens looked at each other. You mouthed some words at your brothers, the Ghoul couldn’t make out what you were saying, but your intended audience seemed to understand you perfectly fine. He watched as the three of you ran in the direction of the light bullets. He tried to follow but found that he and his friend were trapped by the invisible barrier.

#fallout tv show #50s 60s alien aesthetic #alien reader #alien reader x ghoul cooper howard #alien x ghoul #aliens and ufos #cooper howard x reader #fallout season one #fallout fluff #fallout ghoul #fallout #ghoul x female reader #ghoul fluff #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul fallout

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lovebaela · 1 month

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THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH

Chapter 3: Beginning of War

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Pairing: °❆⋆Bran Stark x Targaryen OC .ೃ࿔*:･

CW: fem!oc, mostly fluff, and mentions of murder.꙳·❅°*˖

Rating: Mature audiences - The mature moments will happen later on. In the beginning, it will mostly just be cute fluff.⋆⁺₊❅.

(a/n) helloooo, sooo I recently decided to make a Wattpad account and I’ll also be posting the story on there hehe. So if you don’t like all of the cutesy symbols and the aesthetic on here, you can also read the story on Wattpad without all that stuff :) also I’m making minor changes to the previous chapters so uhhh don’t mind me lol

One night, Rhaella and Lady Stark were with Bran, by his side. It's been a month since she woke up.

Now, they had to wait for Bran's turn to awaken.

He's not dead, I know it, she always told herself.

Rhaella read aloud a book about the history of Winterfell as Lady Stark was making a protective craft. She said that only a mother could make one.

Robb decided to stay to look after his mother. She never once left Bran's side. To the point where Rickon was following Robb around. Robb walked in complaining about it, until he noticed something wrong outside.

"Is there something wrong?" Rhaella asked.

"Both of you stay in here," he said. He quickly ran out of the chamber, leaving them confused. They both rose up from their chairs to look out the window. There was a lot of commotion going on out there. The door opened, making them turn around swiftly. A man they've never seen before.

"You're not supposed to be here," the man said.

"None of you are supposed to be here." They both looked at each other wondering what he meant.

He turned to Bran, "it's mercy for him, really." He drew out his dagger.

"NO!" They both yelled.

Lady Stark ran to the man, preventing him from getting any closer to her son as Rhaella jumped on the bed, throwing herself on Bran. She grabbed the blade, squeezing it so hard that her hands were bleeding.

Rhaella, not knowing what to do, could only think to herself. She didn't know what came over her to use herself as a shield. In truth, they haven't known each other for that long, but he was the closest thing to family, they all were. No, this won't be the day he dies. It can't be. I won't let him, even if it kills me! That led herself to ask the question, would he have done the same for me?

The man threw her off of him and made his way to the bed.

"No!" Rhaella shouted. "Leave us alone!"

Before the man could stab her, Bran's dire wolf bolted in the room, quickly biting at the man's hand. They watched in awe and horror as the wolf dug its teeth into his neck, killing him instantly.

"Thank you," Rhaella whispered to the wolf. He let out a little whine and laid down. At that moment, they knew Bran would be protected, especially now that Summer was huge.

The next day, Rhaella showed Lady Stark where they both fell. They entered inside and went to the top floor. There wasn't really anything in the room. Just a lot of moss, vines, and leaves growing in there. "I found something," Lady Stark said. She showed Rhaella a long strand of golden, blonde hair. Rhaella gasped, remembering the day the king arrived and the feast. The Queen. Her hair was that color. But why would she be in here? And who was she with? "We have to tell Robb," Rhaella said.

They called for a meeting with Robb, Theon, Maester Luwin, and Ser Rodrick in the godswood.

"Pushed?" Robb asked them. "Are you certain?"

"Bran never falls." Theon added.

"We found a strand of blonde hair in that tower," Lady Stark said. "Bran must of saw something he wasn't supposed to see."

"Which led him to get pushed." Luwin said, putting the pieces together.

"What should we do my lady?" Ser Rodrick asked.

"I'll ride to king's landing," she replied. "It had to have been the Lannisters. I must tell Ned."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The maester asked her. She gave a nod.

"They think they can just hurt the people I love and get away with it?" Robb asked. "And then send an assassin? They will pay for this."

That made Rhaella blush. He loves me!

Lady Stark turned to Rhaella, "I need you to stay by Bran's side. To watch over him while I'm gone.

He's lucky to have a friend like you. I know this is scary, but I need you to stay strong for me." She gave her a kiss on her forehead.

"Yes, my lady," Rhaella said determinedly. "I will."

After she left Winterfell with Ser Rodrick, Rhaella did exactly what she asked her to do. She never left Bran's side. She was very concerned for Bran's health. Since he was in a coma, he couldn't eat properly, only honey and water. His body was growing more frail by the day. Nearly becoming just bones and skin. Rhaella prayed every single day for Bran to wake up, hoping one day any gods out there would hear her.

After feeding Bran one night, Maester Luwin said there was a gift for Rhaella. It was a fancy looking chest.

"It says it's from Majester Illyrio from Pentos," he told her. "Also, Lord Stark sent the both of you gifts." He placed Bran's gift at the side of his bed.

From what she could tell, it looked like a sword wrapped up. Then he gave her gift, it was small and wrapped up. She unwrapped it and smiled. It was a doll.

The doll was quite creepy, but she cherished the thoughtful gift anyway.

After Luwin left the room, she opened the chest.

She let out a small gasp, inspecting the gift. It was a dragon egg! Next to it was a letter, from Daenerys!

Dear Rhaella,

I hope you are doing well my sister. I'm afraid I have some news. I was married off in trade for a Dothraki army. His name is Khal Drogo, and he looks big and scary. We are about to leave with the Khalaasar. I didn't want to marry him, or anyone. I just want to go home. To finally see you! Sometimes when I get scared...I say that I am the blood of the dragon. Dragon's are fearless and brave which is what I should be. You are the only person in this world that brings me happiness. I hope you enjoy the gift I sent you.

Love, Daenerys.

Poor Daenerys, I guess we both have to be brave right now. More than ever.

"Look Bran, I have a dragon egg! Too bad Arya isn't here to see it." Rhaella told him. She liked talking to Bran while he slept. Deep down, it felt like he could hear her. "Bran, please wake up," she whispered, holding his motionless hand. "I need you."

A few tears fell from her eyes onto the furs of the bed. She hesitated at first, but then gave him a peck on the cheek before leaving. She reached for the door knob until she heard a groan. Startled, she turned back to the bed.

"Rhaella?" He asked weakly.

"Bran!" She shouted. She jumped onto the bed and gave him a big hug, "You're awake, finally awake!"

Rhaella told the others about the great news. She could tell Robb wanted to cry, but knowing him, he didn't, at least not in front of her. Rickon, of course, did.

"You shouldn't try walking," Maester Luwin told him. "At least, not yet. Your body is extremely weak and thin because of the coma. If you slept longer, you likely would have been dead."

"If Bran needs to go somewhere, what will he do?" Rhaella asked the Maester. "We will have Hodor carry him," he replied.

"I had a strange dream," Bran said, as he was eating some pigeon pie. "I was falling. Falling the whole time, without hitting the ground. There was a raven there too. It had three eyes. It told me 'fly or die.'"

"Don't think about it too much, it was only a dream child," Luwin said.

Rhaella wanted to tell them about her strange dream, but maybe the Maester was right. Perhaps it was only a dream.

— DAENERYS ೃ࿔*:･

"I hit him," Daenerys said, panicking. "I hit the dragon."

Dany couldn't take Viserys' tantrums anymore. He hurt one of her handmaidens, Doreah, because she told him Dany wanted him to come to supper. He took it as a command. He tried to strike Dany down, but something woke inside of her and she fought back.

"Your brother Rhaegar was the last dragon," Ser Jorah Mormont explained. He had met Dany during her wedding, where he swore his loyalty to House Targaryen. "Viserys is less than a shadow of a snake."

"He is still the true king," She reminded him.

"The Magister told the three of us that the common people were praying for his return."

"Three?" The man asked.

"Forgive me," she said. "It wasn't just me and my brother living with Illyrio, our cousin was there with us. My sister, Rhaella."

"I believe I never heard of her." Jorah admitted.

"She was good," Daenerys said with a smile. "A good, sweet, intelligent, and beautiful girl. She was the only thing that I cared about in this world." Her smile faded away, "and he sold her away from me."

"Where is she now?"

"In Winterfell, with the Starks. The people that betrayed my family."

"Forgive me Khalessi, but the Starks are an honorable house. Trust me when I say this, she is in good hands."

"I will get her back one day, I swear it." Daenerys said. "I pray everyday that she is okay, what do you pray for Ser Jorah?"

"Home."

"So do I," she said. I hope she received her gift and the letter.

— RHAELLA ೃ࿔*:･

Rhaella and Bran listened to Old Nan tell her crazy stories. A lot of them were quite strange and boring most of the time. Bran stroked the fur of his dire wolf. He decided to name him Summer. Summer grew so big that soon they would be able to ride on his back. What Rhaella loved about Summer was his beautiful features. He had fire-like brown eyes and fur on his back.

Bran's eleventh name day came and went quickly, but the boy was too depressed to celebrate. He said he'd rather die than be crippled for life, which broke Rhaella's heart. Soon after her eleventh name day passed, but all she requested for was lemon cakes to eat while by Bran's bedside.

Both of them could hear the shouts and screams of Rickon playing with Shaggydog and Greywind outside. "I want to be out there," Bran mumbled. His eyes stung. She could see in his eyes he wanted to cry.

"Would you like to hear a story about a knight?" Old Nan asked as she sowed. "Ser Duncan the Tall perhaps?"

"I don't want to listen to that," Bran said, his voice petulant. The topic of knights seemed to bother him. Rhaella didn't blame his bitterness. The one thing he ever wanted was taken away from him. "Yeah, you already told Ser Duncan's stories many times," Rhaella sighed.

She loved the adventures of Dunc and Egg, but she heard the story so many times, she thought she would pull her hair out.

"It's the scary ones I like." Bran said lowly.

"Oh, my sweet summer child," Old Nan said quietly, "what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods."

The children were deeply invested in the story. It was something Rhaella never heard about before, true or not, it intrigued her.

They continued to listen until Theon opened the door, making them snap out of the trance and jump.

"I don't wish to see anyone!" Bran said, coldly.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Theon said.

"Lord Tyrion wants to see you. Hodor!" The tall giant waltzed in the room, "Hodor?"

"Take Bran to the Great Hall," he commanded.

Hodor did as he said, picking Bran up and left the room. Theon and Rhaella followed behind.

"What does he want from Bran?" She asked the Greyjoy. "I'm not sure, he wanted to see you too."

Once we walked in, she could hear Lord Tyrion say, "so it's true . . ."

Hodor stood before Tyrion with Bran in his arms.

"Hello Bran," he said to the child. He turned his attention to Rhaella, "and hello to you too, Rhaella. Do either of you remember what happened?"

"They barely have any memory of what happened before the accident," Luwin answered for them as he sat at the main table with Robb. With Lord Stark gone, Robb had to take on the role as Lord of Winterfell.

"That's unfortunate," the Lannister said.

"Why are you here?" Robb asked.

"Would you be as kind to ask your charming companion to neil? I'm afraid my neck is starting to hurt," Tyrion asked Bran. He was different from his siblings. He was an "imp" Arya said. He was as tall as Rhaella, and can't grow anymore than that. Hodor obeyed Bran's request to neil.

"Do the both of you like to ride?" He asked them.

Both of the children answered yes. Bran added,

"well, I did like to." Luwin wasn't sure if Bran could ever walk again, but he said they still needed to give Bran more time to heal.

"Lucky for you, I have brought the finest horses for you and blueprints of a special saddle that can even let cripples ride," he told him. "I'm not a cripple." Bran said. "I'm not sure yet."

"Well in case you are, the saddle will still work perfectly for you." Tyrion gave Bran the blueprints of the saddle. It made Rhaella feel warm inside to see Bran's eyes light up as he looked at the paper.

"And for you," Tyrion said, turning to her. " have something else as well. I'm afraid it's not blueprints, but I assure you that you will love it."

Rhaella's eyes brightened up as Tyrion opened a small case. Inside of it was a beautiful golden ring with the Targaryen sigil on it. "I found this where we have the Targaryen artifacts kept. I thought you should have it," he explained. "It is believed to be one of the many jewelry that Daemon Targaryen gave his niece, Rhaenerya."

"Wow," Rhaella exclaimed. "Thank you . . ."

"Is this some kind of trick?" Robb asked, confused and defensive.

"I have a special place in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things," Tyrion replied, smiling at the children. They both gave a smile back.

"You have done them a kindness," Robb said.

"Winterfell is welcomed to you."

"No need for the false loyalties, Stark," Tyrion said. "For I will be leaving shortly."

Before he could ride off, Rhaella ran outside to the courtyard. He noticed her approaching him, "ah, it's you again. I had the both of your horses placed in the stables. May the gods bless the both of you."

"I . . .I thought your family hated me," Rhaella admitted. "You are a kind person, I thank you again."

Tyrion smiled, "I am not like my family, unlike them, I have a heart. Take this as advice, young girl. As someone who is not only Targaryen, but a foreigner as well, you will face hardships. Take what makes you different, and be proud of it. That way, no one can bring you down."

Rhaella nodded and watched as he rode off with his men. She went over to the stables to see the horses. Her horse had a beautiful white coat with wavy mane so light, it almost looks white instead of blonde. Bran's horse was a beautiful jet black color with black mane. They complimented each other beautifully, like the stars and the night sky.

Bran spent the rest of the morning getting sigil lessons with Maester Luwin. Rhaella practiced her archery with Theon Greyjoy while she waited for the lessons to be over. Lord Tyrion’s gift lifted Bran’s spirits, but only ever so slightly. He was always a cheerful boy, a sweet Summer child. Now, he was as cold as winter.

Afterwards, Rhaella and Bran spent the afternoon sitting in the godswood under the weirwood tree. He laid on the ground, resting his head on Rhaella's thigh as she read the history book. "Arya would be furious if she found out we finished the Dance of the Dragons," Rhae chuckled.

"Maybe she should have stayed with us." Bran said, bitterly.

She continued to read, "when Rhaenerya's last alive son was crowned king, the small folk came up with many names. Aegon the Unlucky, Aegon the Unhappy, or Dragonbane. Grand Maester Munkun called him the Broken King."

"Aegon the Broken," Bran said. He sighed. "Bran the Broken."

Rhaella slammed the book shut. "You are not broken, Bran!"

"What do you call a boy who can barely walk properly anymore? Broken, that's what." He said coldly. "Now, I can't even be a knight at all! That's all I ever wanted . . ."

"Well, then," Rhaella said, standing back up. "I guess I'll just have to help you walk better again!"

"What do you mean?" He asked cocking his head.

"How about this, everyday, we come here and practice your walking," she said. "Maester Luwin did say you can walk, just not as much as you used to."

"You'd really help me?" He asked. She was shocked he would even ask that.

"Of course!" She said taking his hand to help him up. "Not only are you my betrothed, you are my dearest friend. All I could ever want is for you to be happy." She wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "I'd also like for my egg to hatch, so one day we can fly on dragon back and eat nothing but desserts!"

"I'm glad that we met." He smiled. She smiled back at the Stark boy, "so am I."

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea

#bran stark #bran stark x reader #bran stark imagine #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #fanfic #house of the dragon #arya stark #a song of ice and fire #sansa stark #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf

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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year

Text

Falling For Your Fools Gold: Epilogue

A/N: Whelp! This is officially it. Crazy to think this whole thing started because of an @sjmkinkmeme prompt and now here I am over 60k words later.... I hope everyone has enjoyed Pirate Captain Cassian and Pirate Queen Nesta as much as I enjoyed writing them. Thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged, and commented on this fic! I hope you all enjoy this little happy ending. I also left some fun little Easter Eggs about what else is happening in this Universe so peep those ;)

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part

One Month Later

The sun still clings low along the horizon as the port city of Lapplund comes into view. It paints the sky in soft tones of pinks and yellows, the morning rays bouncing off the waves to create a sea mist that looks like crystalized diamonds. It casts the buildings lining the shores of Lapplund in contrast and shadows, and along the docks, Nesta can just make out people moving about and preparing for the morning markets.

“Steady now,” Baz’s voice echoes across the deck.

Those docks grow closer and closer as the ship is maneuvered slowly through the shallow waters. The closer they get, the more sounds that start to prickle Nesta’s ears. The gulls that have settled their nests along the shores. The fishermen calling out to their comrades. The bustle and heckling of the market. But Nesta keeps her eyes trained on the water, eying the shrinking distance to land and the sea floor below.

“Drop the anchor,” she calls out, her voice carrying away on the sea breeze.

A splash indicates her order has been followed, and then the crew gets to work on the final preparations to dock. Cormac clambers over the railing and climbs down the side of the ship, catching the rope Cresseida tosses down to him and tying off the ship, while Bram and Alistair work to lower the ramp down.

“Ladies first,” Bram offers with a small bow of his head once the ramp is secured, gesturing with his arm.

With a nod and a quiet thanks, Nesta steps down along the ramp and onto the awaiting dock. Her eyes sweep across her surroundings, accessing for any potential threats, taking in every detail just in case. Almost on instinct, her hand moves to the hilt of the sword secured to her hip, the weight and feel of the metal beneath her palm a comforting balm.

“It shouldn’t take me long to replenish our supplies,” Duncan says, coming to stand beside her. “I plan to stick to the dockside market unless I absolutely cannot find what we need.”

“Good,” Nesta offers, turning to smile kindly at him. “Don’t forget we’ll be sailing north after this. We won’t make port this far south again for a while.”

“Aye,” Duncan confirms. Much like Bram, he offers a small bow of his head before walking away along the dock and toward the market, Nesta watching him vanish amongst the crowds.

Gentle fingers skitter across Nesta's temple, carefully tucking a strand that's fallen free from her updo back behind her ear. For a moment, Nesta's eyes flutter closed, and she leans into the touch, into the warm palm. Already, her heart skips over itself between her ribs, and she briefly wonders if that will ever stop, if she'll ever get used to the warmth and happiness that rushes through her, radiating from that one, simple touch.

When she opens her eyes again, bright hazel eyes and a soft smile meant just for her swim into view. Nesta tries to bite her lip around her answering grin, but there's no stopping it. She reaches her hand up and curls her fingers around Cassian's own, the cool metal wrapped around his ring finger a contrast to the warmth that always seems to radiate from him.

“Ready?” Cassian asks, pulling his hand back and offering Nesta his arm instead.

It’s a gesture that only has Nesta’s smile growing. A gesture that Cassian always does despite the time that’s passed since that first time. She settles her hand in the crook of his elbow with familiar ease, allowing him to guide them up the dock and onto dry land.

“Where are we meeting the Vanserras?” Nesta asks as they make their way through the streets of Lapplund, taking in the different shops and vendors they pass.

“We’re not meeting the Vanserras right now. We’ll handle that business later.”

Nesta blinks a few times in surprise at that, turning her head to peer up at Cassian. “Won’t Eris be annoyed if we keep him waiting.”

“What’s the worst that Eris can do?” Cassian says with an easy shrug.

“You’re just jealous still from the last time we did business with him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nes.”

He keeps his tone light, almost nonchalant, but Nesta knows how to read him just as well as he’s always been able to read her, and she doesn’t miss the tense way he holds his jaw. Doesn’t miss the darkness that takes over his hazel eyes. Doesn’t miss the too casual way he moves his free hand to possessively cover Nesta’s where it’s still settled in the crook of his arm.

Nesta snorts amusedly at the blatant lie and rolls her eyes. “So, what are we doing then?”

“I believe I promised my wife the best chocolate of any port, did I not?”

He had promised that; although, it had been weeks ago, so Nesta is surprised he remembered. They had been tangled up together beneath the blankets in the captain’s cabin, just the moonlight spilling in and illuminating them both. Cassian had pressed sweet kisses to every inch of her skin that he could reach, Nesta little more than a pliant puddle in his arms, and asked her where she wanted to travel to, what she wanted to see. She had only been serious about half of her suggestions, but Cassian had still promised every one, sealing each promise with another kiss.

Cassian leads them around a corner and to a building tucked behind the main road in town. When they step through the door and inside, Nesta’s excitement at the prospect of chocolate quickly morphs into confusion at the distinctive lack of the sugary sweet smell she was expecting. In fact, there’s a distinctive lack of anything. The building is small, just a single door along the back wall and barely enough space in the front room for a desk and the man currently standing behind it.

“This is where the best chocolate is?” Nesta questions, raising a pointed eyebrow.

“Just a small pit stop,” Cassian assures her.

He presses a quick kiss to Nesta’s cheek before stepping over to the desk. Nesta watches curiously as the two men murmur quietly, Cassian sliding a couple gold coins across the wood. With a nod the other man vanishes into the back room. When he returns, he has two folded pieces of parchment that he hands over to Cassian, the pirate captain tucking them neatly into the inner pocket of his jacket.

He turns back to Nesta with an easy smile, walking back over to her and offering his arm again. Nesta narrows her eyes, but she settles her hand back in the crook of his elbow, allowing him to lead them back onto the streets and holding in her questions until then.

“You know, I’m sure Lapplund has a postal station you could use.”

Cassian chuckles, guiding them through the winding streets with familiarity. “But then how can I be sure my communications won’t be intercepted?”

Nesta hums consideringly. She hadn’t thought of that. It’s something she decides she’ll keep in mind the next time she writes to her sisters back in Adriata. She already uses fake names to ensure Elain and Feyre aren’t caught in the crosshairs of anything, but perhaps the extra precaution couldn’t hurt.

The sweet scent of baked goods floods Nesta’s senses and sends her stomach flipping over itself in excitement before the small shop and its wooden sign declaring ‘Bakery’ come into view. Her grin is wide as Cassian holds open the door for her, and when she steps fully inside, she takes a moment to close her eyes and breathe that scent in. Fresh bread. Sugar. And that undeniable undertone of chocolate. It already has her mouth watering in anticipation.

“We’ll take two chocolates,” Cassian’s voice pulls Nesta back to the present.

She opens her eyes to watch as Cassian hands over a couple gold coins to the kindly, older woman running the shop. The woman steps away and when she returns, she has two cups filled to the brim with swirling, warmed chocolate. Cassian takes them both with a quiet thanks before leading Nesta toward the tables set up in the extra space of the bakery.

She expects him to choose one of the smaller tables set near the windows, but instead he sets the chocolates down on one of the wider tables near the back, pulling out the chair for her. Nesta takes the offered seat, Cassian gently pushing it in, and when he settles into the chair directly next to her rather than the one across the table, she merely fondly shakes her head.

Despite the teasing comments sitting ready on the tip of her tongue, she decides instead to focus entirely on the delicious treat in front of her. Carefully, she brings her cup up to her lips, taking a small sip. The taste of the chocolate is indescribable, and Nesta is sure that she must have died and gone to the blissful beyond. Suddenly, the best chocolate of any port nomer feels like an understatement.

Nesta is half aware of the pleased sound that tumbles past her lips, of the way her eyes flutter closed and her whole body sags, but she’s too busy greedily taking more sips of the chocolate to find it within herself to care. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the delectable taste, on the way the chocolate settles warmly and comfortingly in her stomach.

“The secret is cinnamon and nutmeg,” Cassian whispers, and when Nesta turns her head and opens her eyes, she finds him leaning in close enough to count every golden speck that glints in his hazel eyes.

That soft smile of his pulls slowly across his face as their gazes stay locked, but then Cassian is leaning back in his chair again. He pulls out the parchments from the pocket of his jacket, setting the first on the table and breaking the wax seal of the second. His eyes barely dance across the page, though, before he frowns.

“This one’s for you,” he says, holding out the parchment for Nesta.

Nesta takes it from his fingers, smiling when she recognizes the looping script of Gwyn’s handwriting. She eagerly reads about how her friend has settled in as the newest member of the Shadowsinger’s crew, about her new crewmates and the various adventures of their sailing. When Gwyn starts to describe her late night dagger lessons with Azriel, Nesta has to bite back a smirk. She can’t wait until she gets back to the ship, until she can share this letter with Emerie and Cresseida. She’s sure both of them will have just as many thoughts and teasing remarks as Nesta to share in the response back to Gwyn.

A quiet, amused snort draws Nesta’s attention back to Cassian, and when she snaps her head toward him, he’s already broken the wax seal and opened the second piece of parchment, his eyes scanning across the page.

“It seems Rhys has finally left the bay of Adriata,” Cassian answers her unasked question.

“Does that mean he’s finally given up his obsession with my sister?”

“Not quite,” Cassian chuckles, holding out the letter for her to read for herself. “Apparently, Feyre threw a shoe at his head.”

It’s satisfaction and pride that swells up within Nesta as she takes the letter and quickly skims over the description of the exchange between Rhysand and Feyre. “Good for her.”

“Should I be grateful that you never threw a shoe at me?”

“I certainly thought about it,” Nesta tells him, setting the letter aside and turning to face him again. Cassian’s hand reaches up between them, his fingers toying with the strands of her hair near her temple. “If you keep doing that, my hair is going to come completely undone.”

“Perhaps that’s my plan all along,” Cassian offers, daring to tug with a bit more purpose. “You know I prefer your hair down.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“But you love me anyways.”

It takes everything within Nesta to keep her face neutral, to turn away from him and take a pointed sip of her chocolate. “Sounds like hearsay to me.”

Cassian’s laugh is quiet, but no less warm, that sound sending butterflies cascading through Nesta’s chest. His hand drops away from her hair and he grabs both their chocolates, swapping them so his still full one is now in front of her, before reaching forward and lacing their left hands together. The gesture puts their rings on full display, Nesta’s deep red jewel embedded in a golden band and Cassian’s more simple one.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the old nickname, but almost instinctively, her fingers squeeze around Cassian’s own. And even though she’s far away from her childhood home in Adriata, in a port city she’s never visited before, Nesta knows that she’s right where she belongs. With the warm and familiar weight of Cassian’s hand in her own. With that soft smile and teasing nickname meant only for her. With a heart full of love and bright hazel eyes that glint and overflow with the same feeling. With golden bands around fingers that seem to match that golden thread that Nesta swears ties her with this man. Her pirate captain. Her Cassian.

And in that moment, Nesta knows that she’s never been happier.

The end

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @unlikelypersonalknight1 @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #pirates au #my fic

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drawlfoy · 2 years

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heeeeyyyy literally slytheirn boys x reader it can be Draco, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo, or Tom doesn’t matter maybe they all kidnap you or something idk thx so much luv ya ❤️

yeah fs !! ily 2 🫶

pairing: slytherin boys x reader

warnings: abduction, child trafficking, language, unhealthy parental relationships

a/n: thanks for this request!! this took me back x further notes at the bottom

I wake up to my alarm clock blaring. It’s 6am—and if that wasn’t bad enough, it’s the first day of school. Sigh.

I pad over to my bathroom where I run my fingers through my hair and survey my appearance. It feels like there should be something poetic in the way that I’m staring at myself in a new mirror, in a new house, looking at the same objectively flawless reflection, but instead all I feel is static.

I’m nervous. It’s my first day of my new school and if there’s anything you should know about me, it’s that I have a tough time making friends. I’m different, you see. I’m not like other girls. I wear band shirts and paint my fingernails black. Even though I’m perfectly petite and small enough to fall down the shower drain if I stand too close, I wear oversized sweaters and alternative shoes (read: black converse). I’m used to people thinking I’m weird, that I don’t fit in, and even though I try not to care, it still hurts. It’s not that I don’t like being alone—I do. Being alone is one of my favorite things, actually. But sometimes it’s nice to have someone there, to have someone to hold my mall smoothie when I try things on at Hot Topic.

Maybe North High will offer me that. My last school was so shitty that I couldn’t help but feel relieved when my mother got the job offer that made us move. Though I’m nervous about my first day, I’m feeling a little more hopeful now that I’ve had a good night’s rest and have moved in. This town seems nicer than the ones my mother and I have bounced around for all of my teenaged years. Even our house is bigger. I have my own attached bathroom, with that cute behind-the-mirror cabinet I’ve always wanted and—get this—heated tile. I didn’t even know that that was a thing.

I wash my face, feeling my perfect girly hands slide across the smoothness of my flawless skin, lubricated by the soapy bubbles that smell of flowers. I take special care to pat my moisturizer on—that’s all I’ll do to my face before leaving, I don’t really like to wear makeup—and half-heartedly swipe a mascara wand through my naturally luscious lashes.

I blink once, twice, thrice at my reflection. I’ve since changed out of my sweat shorts and adorably oversized sweatshirt into my black “anti social social club” shirt and black skinny jeans. I look okay. There’s just something that I’m missing...

Ah, that’s it. I spy a hairband with my bright blue orbs and gather my caramel colored hair into a messy bun, pulling a few strands out to frame my perfectly oval-shaped face.

“Y/N, are you almost ready?” yells my mother.

I roll my eyes, then pause. My mother rarely cares whether or not I get to school on time. Sure, she’ll throw a bitch fit if I show up late enough times that the office writes home to her, but she isn’t the type to proactively check up on me. She doesn’t even drive me anymore. The school is within walking distance, so what’s it to her if I’m ready or not?

Maybe she’s also getting the first day jitters. The thought is comforting at first, but it morphs into the sticky feeling of affection that makes me uncomfortable. I grab my iPhone 6s, plug my earbuds in using the 3.5mm headphone jack (which will never become obsolete), and listen to some Twenty One Pilots (kind of underground—don’t feel bad if you don’t get it) to distract myself from the fact that I’d just had a really big feeling.

“Y/N?” she yells again. I can’t tell where she is in the house—this is my first night here—but her voice sounds closer.

“Coming!” I yell back. My voice cracks on the second syllable and reaches a pitch that I didn’t know was possible.

I grab my black galaxy print backpack, give my new bedroom a once over to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything important, and bound down the stairs.

“Good morning,” I say dully when I see my mother lurking by the bottom of the staircase, intending to pass her into the kitchen and get some toast before leaving.

To my surprise, her eyes look shiny, her mouth screwed into an expression that I just can’t quite place. I begin to feel profoundly uncomfortable. If she’s all of a sudden getting emotional about how quickly I’m growing up, I’m going to throw up right here and right now.

One of my earbuds falls out and dangles in the air in between us. If you focus, you can hear the distant sounds of a ukulele and the whine of Tyler Joseph’s voice as he sings about living in a house of gold, or whatever the subtext of that song is.

“Good to see you up,” she clips. Her eyes harden as they track the swinging earbud in between us. “I thought I told you to only use those in your room. It’s rude to talk to people when you’re listening to music with those earphones.”

“They’re earbuds, Mom.”

“Right. Well. Take them out. I have someone—some people—I want you to meet.”

There’s something in her tone that deeply disturbs me, an underlying, cool anticipation that chills me to the bone. “Mom, I can’t. I have school.”

“School can wait,” she says tightly. “Come into the living room, now. We’re holding them up.”

I trail behind her as she walks through the massive open concept kitchen and pass her art room. It already smells of acrylic paint and canvases. As we go, I marvel once again at the sheer size and grandiosity of the home. We’d always stayed in 2 bedroom 1 bathroom single story homes with one oven, a sitting room, and a laundry room if we were lucky. But this? This was like a whole Disney Channel set.

“Now, dear,” said my mother, pausing before the living room door.

This immediately set me on edge. She never calls me pet names.

“Surely you’ve noticed that money’s been tight,” she continues, carefully.

I nod.

“Well...” She swallows, wringing her hand. “I’ve had to make some tough decisions. About your future, I mean.”

“What?” I’m confused. She’s never done anything to invest in my future. It’s not like she’s been saving for my college or anything.

“They’re very nice,” my mother added, as if she was making any sense. “I’ve met them. Very kind. They’ll treat you well.”

I gape at her.

She opens the door.

A group of 5 men are casually lounging on our couches, as if they own the place. One of them has striking platinum blonde hair, another with rich chocolate brown (the others look like the void, because i, the writer, have no fucking clue who “lorenzo” or “mattheo” are i’m really sorry u lost me there).

“Who are these people?” I ask my mother. She takes me roughly by the shoulder and pushes me through the door.

“Your new owners,” she says simply.

One of the swirling black holes stands up, and I see something that looks like it could be considered a human hand extended in my direction. “’Ello, luv. Welcome to your new life.”

apologies to anon if ur request was not satire. im not sorry for clowning u tho bc this was a buckwild request. also apologies to anyone younger than the age of 18 reading this bc i feel like this is more mid 2010s core than anything and will thus be remarkably unfunny and unenjoyable

#draco x reader #dee overshares #crack fic #kidnapped by 1d

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fitchbanks09 · 2 months

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Malaga - The Capital Of The Costa Del Sol

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pinsofindia · 2 years

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Ladakh

Ladakh – A Union Territory of India

Ladakh is one of the most unique parts of India. Its stunning landscape and culture, which have been preserved for centuries, make it a destination you won’t soon forget. This northernmost region of India, also known as Little Tibet or part of the Trans-Himalaya, covers an area of 84,000 square kilometers (32,000 sq mi). It’s bordered by Pakistan to the north and China to the east, while the Indian states of Jammu and Kashmir encompass it to the south and west. Brief history Ladakh is a very beautiful territory located in India. The territory borders Tibet on its east, and Xinjiang province, China on its north. This beautiful statue was a part of Jammu and Kashmir prior to June 19, 2014. The name Ladakh literally means land of high passes or Land for Gods and Goddesses. As per records, Ladakh was ruled by many dynasties like Huns, Turks, Guptas (Tibetans), Mongols, etc. How to reach There are many flights to Leh, both scheduled and chartered. It is easier to reach here during the summer season when there is little snowfall at high altitudes. One can also visit Leh by road from Manali or Srinagar via Kargil. In the winter months, it becomes difficult to drive due to harsh weather conditions. There are buses available from Manali, Delhi, and some other cities on a daily basis during summers but in winters, it can be once a week only depending on weather conditions which often deteriorate due to heavy snowfall for many days together at higher altitudes. Best time to visit The best time to visit Ladakh is from April to June and from September to October. These months are best for adventure and water sports. Tourists avoid visiting Ladakh during July and August as these months are extremely hot there. The weather becomes unpredictable during those months, causing frequent hailstorms, heavy snowfall, and avalanches that block roads leading in and out of Leh. For a pleasant experience, tourists should take proper precautions like staying informed about weather conditions before setting off on their journey. They should also carry winter equipment just in case they get stranded due to heavy snowfall or any other natural calamity that may occur while traveling around Ladakh. Places to visit Ladakh is a region in Jammu and Kashmir, India. It lies between 31°30' and 36°50' N latitude and 75°20' and 80°45' E longitude. Traditionally, it is divided into two main regions: Western Ladakh and Eastern Ladakh, with an intervening mountain range which includes Saltoro Ridge immediately north of Karakoram range, called Depsang Plains on its southern slopes. Western Ladakh borders Tibet to the east, Lahaul, and Spiti to its west; it contains Leh district which was a part of Kargil district until 1975 when Kargil was established as a separate district. Where to stay in Ladakh? Hotels in Ladakh are very difficult to find, and you have to book your stay at least one month before, or you won’t be able to get a hotel room. The good news is that hotels here are generally less expensive than hotels in other tourist destinations. During your stay, you should definitely check out these hotels and guest houses: Hanuman Guest House, Hotel Alhamra Palace, and Hemis Riverside Hotel. Things To Do In Ladakh Discovering Ladakh is not just about visiting monasteries and experiencing spirituality. Whether you are there during summer or winter, you can enjoy several activities that are on offer for tourists. The cold desert offers a wonderful experience to all those who love adventure sports and activities like trekking and camping. Apart from offering a panoramic view of snow-capped peaks, Ladakh also has many trekking trails that offer mesmerizing sights, flowers, and trees that blossom with berries in spring, water streams, and gushing waterfalls and a number of hidden alpine lakes. Water sports like rowing and kayaking can be enjoyed in the Zanskar River. Which season to visit Ladakh? Ladakh has three distinct seasons, spring (March-May), summer (June-August), and winter (November-February). The main tourist season is between May and September. Summer months are best avoided due to heavy rains that often make travel difficult. Winter conditions can also be harsh but do see fewer tourists at that time. You should try to avoid visiting from October to February when heavy snowfall occurs in the Zanskar region, which could cause disruptions to flights in Leh airport. Buses and taxi services from Jammu Kashmir to Ladakh If you’re heading to Ladakh from Jammu Kashmir, there are several options for public transportation. The distance is big, but that shouldn’t stop you from making your way to Ladakh. If you live in Jammu Kashmir and plan on visiting a lot, consider taking out a yearly bus pass (as opposed to buying tickets one-way at a time) because it’s cheaper and covers more journeys. There are also taxi services operating between Jammu Kashmir and Ladakh that tend to be more expensive but can be worth it if you’re getting back late or leaving early or want additional luggage space. Places nearby Ladakh you must see! Ladakh is surrounded by 4 major Himalayan mountain ranges, namely Ladakh Range in the north, the Great Himalayas in the east, Zanskar and Pir Panjal in the south, and Karakoram range in the west. Some of the highest mountains are the great Kang la pass (18380 ft), jostedalsbrae (18610 ft), coo-man-no-la (18180 ft), and Masherbrum (18870 ft). Due to its being situated far from any disturbance from people around, nature has managed to preserve its natural beauty. Places nearby Ladakh you must see! Gulmarg is a tourist place known for its beautiful golf course. It is about 72 km away from Ladakh town. Read the full article

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kemakoshume · 2 years

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Beneath the Wisteria Blooms ✾ — tengen x black!f!reader x rengoku (pt. 3)

warnings; no smutty cws (yet, sry lol). we get some backstory and fun flirty stuff.

a/n; this is a slow burn now lmao my bad. also, there's gonna be five chapters not four. oh, and, i totally forgot that i did make a playlist for this, that’s: here. enjoy! ~ [ch one, ch two, ch three, ch four, ch five] ~

The first time you heard the word “hashira” was on the eve of your seventh birthday. You were sitting on the tatami-lined floor of your Mistress’s bedroom, sat snug in her lap with your legs crossed as she attentively sculpted your curls with her lithe fingers.

The minka was empty back then, with no other children running around to liven the space or make messes; it was just you and your Mistress, nuzzled in the full belly of contentment as you embraced one another’s quiet company.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

You sat together enjoying the evening breeze as she hummed a song to you softly while manipulating the tight curls, forming strands that mimicked delicate macramé cords as she pulled one piece of hair over the other into small twists.

She’d told you before that your hair and eyes were the first things that drew her to you, like a moth to a flickering flame. Your Mistress was a woman grief-stricken in her early twenties back then; having lost nearly all of her clan in her youth to a demon, her husband of four years to the fever raging in from the north, and the baby he’d gifted her womb passed soon after as a result of her stress—so much stress that her body revolted and made her incapable of bearing another child of her own ever again.

In the depth of her sorrows, she wandered the country, going this way and that as she tried to fill the gaps formed in her spirit, leaving her ancestral home—once a haven for demon slayers—on the wayside as she went. However, her heart yearned for her home as the days turned to months, then years, and she returned to rebuild the glory of her birthright property; wanting to deliver it to the world of demon slayers once again as the refuge it had been in the heydays of her youth.

Still, something was off—a dull ache still there in her chest—even after the wisteria trees blossomed full and lush once again and her departed family’s home was restored to its former glory. Then, one cold winter afternoon, as she walked down the city streets intent on buying fruits, she saw you—a little girl with skin darker than her own and hair in tight curls that she’d only ever seen on her first love. You were sitting in the cracked window of an orphanage with wisteria winding up the withered rotting wood and stone—and the ache made sense.

She walked into the decaying home and watched you from the doorway, near tears as she saw you cuddled in on yourself as you looked down at the street, humming a doleful song to yourself that wept of sorrows she knew all too well. She approached you carefully as if you were a wounded bird and spoke to you softly as you made space for her on the windowsill.

“You have gorgeous hair, and the saddest eyes on such a pretty face,” she said, looking down at you like she’d dreamt of you a million times before. “Those eyes shouldn’t exist on a child. No child, but my heart aches to see that look on you.”

You stared at the stranger, not entirely understanding what her intentions could be, but there was no mistaking the distinct feeling of warmth that flowed in your gut as you looked at her and saw your eyes mirrored back in hers, despite how they differed in shape. As she pulled you into her lap and smoothed the frizzy flyaways on your unwashed curls, you felt safe—for the first time in far too long.

She scooped you up and cradled you against her chest as she signed the documents necessary to free you from the temporary home. Then, after a long ride in a carriage, you stepped into your new life—a life that no child of demon-slain parents could’ve ever imagined.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

“Miya!” Someone shouted, knocking incessantly on the entrance gates outside. “Miya! Please, open the gate!”

The sound came as a shock, startling you in your Mistress’s lap. You received visitors often enough—even in the dead of night—but none came with such urgency, and the demon slayers were always preceded by their crows. The room tilted off at an angle as your heart raced, the beating growing louder as you began to whimper. Your Mistress hushed your cries, wiping the hot trails of moisture spilling out onto your cheeks.

"There are no demons up here; there’s no need to be afraid. I’ll deal with our visitor, and you will hide until I tell you to come out. Understand?”

You nodded, sniffling up your tears and wiping your wet eyes with tiny fists.

“Good girl. If you hear shouts, you don’t move. If you hear screams, you don’t move. Okay?”

“Yes.”

The banging grew louder, and you jumped, nearly detaching yourself from your skin. Your Mistress caught you by your shoulders and lifted you from her lap before kissing your cheek.

“Go,” she said, her voice calm as she turned your body, pushing you forward to jumpstart a run. You looked back as you went, only to see your Mistress’s back before you turned a corner into the labyrinth of hallways in the maze-like home. You had grown to learn it well in the year or so since your Mistress had taken you in, but with adrenaline spiked in your blood like warmth from wine, you panicked.

You still had the mind to quiet your footsteps like she’d taught you—balancing as much of your weight on the balls of your feet as possible—but you hadn’t turned down the hallway you thought you had. So instead, you found yourself on the side of the home, crouched down on the second-floor engawa, protected from view by the cover of darkness provided by nightfall. You peeked through the slits in the porch’s railing, looking out into the moonlit courtyard towards your Mistress’s figure.

She had grabbed a long blade from the armory as she exited the home, moving towards the entrance as the banging continued even though the voice had stopped.

“State your business,” she said, her voice loud and firm as she inched closer toward the gate.

The night air went still, and you held your breath: the anticipation built as you waited for the voice to speak again, scream, or something.

“Miya, it’s me,” the voice—a woman said. “I trekked up through the wisteria field to come and get you. Open up. It’s urgent.”

Your Mistress groaned, relaxing the sword in her grip as she opened the gate for the woman—your neighbor, though she and her husband did live a reasonable distance away.

“Good heavens, Fumio,” your Mistress said, smacking the younger woman as she walked into your courtyard. “I thought there were demons on your tail with the racket you made.”

“Not exactly,” the woman said, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she spoke. “Master Nakamura spotted a hoard of demons pooled at the mountain's base on the wisteria-barren edge. They cornered a child. Oh, Miya, she’s such a tiny thing, and her parents… gods. They didn’t make it, but a man—no, a hashira—he saved the child, and he’s slain the demons all on his own, but he’s wounded. Not enough for the Kakushi to come, but wounded nonetheless. Please, take them. I do not have the previsions to care for them both, so they need you. Please, they need you.”

Your Mistress sat her blade on a tall stone near the entrance and sighed, fixing her hair up into a bun with a red ribbon that matched her hakama.

“Enough groveling Fumio, gods—what kind of monster do you imagine me to be? Of course, they can come. Can the man walk? Can the child be moved?”

Your neighbor fixed her mouth to speak, only for a crow's loud caw and a man's deep groan to interrupt her.

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice said, though the source became visible soon after. “‘Could use some help here.”

A tall man with broad shoulders, a melancholic face, and hair that looked like a sunset—lit ablaze by zestful, ardent flames. He dragged himself through your gates, carrying a little girl on his back with skin kissed by the sun and long hair like silk. Your Mistress called your name, running to the man to grab hold of the child while your neighbor supported his weight on her shoulders.

Truth be told, many details of the night that followed felt murky, the same way that nigori sake looked. Still, a detail you recalled often was how your Mistress helped that man—the hashira, a savior. The man who gave you the child that your Mistress held, and fed fuyū, and looked at with stars in her eyes.

On that night, in that one moment, your life together with your Mistress was forever changed—thanks to the man with flame-like hair.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

“What’s with that look, maiden?”

Your mind snapped into focus as the sound hashira drew your attention, looking across the table at you as he munched on a spoonful of rice and pork. Rengoku’s eyes moved away from his plate and onto you as well. He tilted his head like a curious owl as he watched the pleasant expression grow on your face when his eyes met yours.

“Oh, nothing,” you said, taking a bite of kafta—humming as the savory spiced beef mince touched your tongue. “I just had a thought. A memory, really. Apologies for my rudeness. Ayra, you were speaking.”

Ayra smirked, not so subtly nudging you in the ribs beneath the low table.

“Well, I was, but not about much. I’m much more interested in your memory now, sister. They do say the best practice for memories is to share them, as a means to keep them alive,” she said, a dangerously impish look in the light of her eyes. “So, do tell. I’ll share a secret, too, if you will.”

You scoffed, sipping slowly at the wine Ayra fetched from the kitchen once the children were gone. “I said no such thing about secrets, Ayra. I merely mentioned a memory.” You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing the girl well enough to catch on to what she was trying to do.

Tengen chuckled, his light maroon eyes flitting between the both of you. “Secrets are a sort of memory, are they not? What harm could come from sharing a few tales between us adults?” He turned his head towards the flame hashira, pushing his elbow against the man’s side. “Kyojuro, what do you say? Will you also offer a secret in exchange for the maidens’? ”

The flame hashira nodded his head firmly, filling his chopsticks with rice and his spoon with boiling hot soup. “I will offer one secret. I do wish to learn more about you both,” he said, breaking his eye contact with you to smile gently at Ayra.

“Lovely,” Tengen said, clapping his hands together. “Well then, who will be the first to divulge? How are we to decide?”

Ayra hummed, drumming the tips of her fingers against the dining table. Then, she snapped and turned to look at you. “Do we still have that special saké? The one we were gifted by the tsuchinoe-rank with the massive coc—” she said, clearing her throat to correct her words clumsily. “Co—Community of saké makers in his family? From Kobe? Do we, yes, do we still have that saké?”

An ill-stifled laugh bubbled in your throat as you thumped Ayra’s thigh before standing, huffing as you lifted your weight onto your feet. You acted as though you couldn’t hear the two hashira when Tengen remarked, “I didn’t know we had a tsuchinoe-rank from Kobe.”

Ayra rangled the two men into a frivolous, distracting conversation as you walked across the room, padding lightly on your feet as you thumped your knuckles against the only fixed, immovable wall in the room. The noise the wall made against the contact with your finger was dull; however, eventually, an echo resounded as you knocked on the intended panel.

“Bingo,” you said, pushing on the lower right corner of the panel to expose the cellarette hidden behind. The small compartment held a varied selection of liquor bottles—all naturally chilled from the evening breeze that pooled into the walls from outside.

“Wow,” Tengen said, looking intently as you gathered a middle-sized bottle and small glass cups from inside the wall.

Ayra walked up behind you, taking the glasses from your hand to wash them quickly before meeting you back at the dining table.

“I propose we solve this the old-fashioned way,” Ayra said, giving the hashira their cups first and filling them halfway with the cloudy melon-scented liquor.

“And what exactly is the old-fashioned way?” you said, a reserved grin on your face since you already knew the answer.

Ayra’s smile stretched across her lips as she filled your glass and then her own before setting the saké bottle down with surprising grace. “Janken!” she said, excitedly yelling the word with outstretched arms.

The two men chuckled, genuinely amused at your housemate’s animated movements. Kyojuro mirrored Ayra’s enthusiasm as he sat down his spoon, picking up his cup of saké and lifting it up for a toast. “Ladies, may the strongest object win!”

୨୧┈┈୨୧

So, perhaps entering a game dependent on speed, perception, and anticipation with two of the strongest human beings in the most elite organization in recorded history might have been a misstep. After a series of losses—eight of them, to be exact, you huffed and lowered your hand—that was balled into a fist—down onto the wooden table after another crushing defeat.

“Weren’t you ever taught to pull punches with a lady?” you said, pouting petulantly as the hashira smirked down at you.

Tengen snapped his v-shaped pointer and middle finger closed quickly, as if the digits were the claws of a crab, and smiled. “I was willing to let you win that round,” he said, flashing his fingers in the shape of a peace sign. “I threw scissors on purpose when I saw your fist close for rock. Kyojuro is the one who doesn’t pull punches. Even for such lovely, slow-moving, maidens.”

The flame hashira lowered his hand, relaxing the flat motion he was making with it to mimic paper, while Ayra did the opposite. She raised her stone-shaped hand, waving it in the hashira’s direction before loudly sucking her teeth with a moan.

“Oi, we are not slow-moving,” she said in defiance, slamming down her shot of saké while you slowly sipped your own. “We are two maidens of the house Arai. Trained with the skills of the Arai clan; both in hospitality and in defense. Our speed and intuition give men a run for their money, even your kinoe-ranks. Unfortunately, you’ve caught us both drunk on a bad day!”

Tengen smirked, swallowing his own saké down in one shot just as Ayra had. “You weren’t drunk when we began,” he smirked, looking over the rim of his glass at the girl, “and your head maiden seems to be handling her liquor quite well.”

The high points of Ayra’s face blushed red, and her tongue loosened with every sip of her drink. “Fine, fine. Gloat, Sir Hashira. This win shall be your last. Right, sister?”

She turned to you, as did the men, and you laughed. Your body swayed a bit with the steady stream of alcohol buzzing along your nerves, but you were very obviously not intoxicated like your younger housemate. Still, you nodded, falling into the energy brewing within the warm room.

“The maiden speaks the truth,” you said, grabbing Ayra’s hand in your own. “Now, enjoy these secrets from us. They will be the last spilled from our lips.”

The two men nodded attentively. Tengen leaned forward to balance his weight on his elbow against your table, while Rengoku sat up straight with his arms clasped lowly against his middle.

You cleared your throat and tilted your chin higher in pride while spilling your secret, though the posturing lasted only two seconds before you crumpled into yourself with laughter at the men’s reactions.

“You did what with a nichirin sword?” Tengen said, looking at you with an expression you were shocked to see on such a handsome face. Likewise, if you’d been told minutes ago that the flame hashira’s eyes could grow bigger you might have called the messenger insane. Though their wide eyes were complimented well with their smiles.

Ayra dissolved into a fit of laughter, tears threatening to fall from her long lashes as she turned away from the men to laugh in peace. You stifled your own laughter, muttering dismissive words to minimize the attention.

“Okay, okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you said, finishing your shot. “I only wielded it once before returning it.”

The sound hashira furrowed his brow like your comment only confused him further.

“How did you possess the sword in the first place?” Tengen asked, leaning toward you with rapt attention.

“Well, some mizunoto-rank or another left me the sword as a courting gift—one that I had no intention of keeping since his affections were not reciprocated. However, the poor thing went off and got himself killed in the night later that evening, so I kept it for about three days. Then, as I went into town to meet with a Kakushi to return it and to take Sana to the market for more peaches, we were cornered by a demon. Just as we cleared the wisteria’s edge the demon was there waiting. So, I took up the sword and protected myself and my sister. Now, the rest is history. My Mistress urged us never to recant the story again since non-slayers wielding the swords is unforgivable. But, the sword was returned and repurposed with ease, and Sana is here with us, safe. I do apologize regardless for using the sword out of turn.”

In all of your years of meeting slayers from the core, you would have never thought that your secret—the one held closest to you by order of your Mistress—would be spilled to hashira, of all men. Still, your heartbeat stronger with pride as the mens’ expressions relaxed into admiration, and you wondered why you were ever afraid before that they might have listened to your tale and felt disgust.

“Your strength and endurance are admirable,” Kyojuro said, bowing his head slightly in respect, and you returned the sentiment.

“In honor of that strength, dear maiden, I will share a secret of my own with you—even though you haven’t earned it through a game yet,” Tengen said, straightening his posture and towering over you again. “Consider it a small thank you for your bravery in our absence.”

You squinted your eyes at him, scoffing as you poured both yourself and the men another drink.

“I am a man with three wives,” he said, looking far too pleased with himself as he shared the personal detail. He spread out his fingers and wiggled them as if the announcement were a grand reveal.

Ayra sucked her teeth harshly, sucking down a deep gulp of wine left in a rogue glass. “That’s no secret!” she said, her voice sulky like a child. “Everyone in the market knows at least that much about you. I learned that detail before I was told what your hair color was. Pick something else!”

You choked a bit on the bitter burn of alcohol that was only halfway down your throat as the girl spoke. “Ayra!” you said, a reprimand on the tip of your tongue before the sound hashira cut in with a chuckle.

“Ah, so rumors do make their way into the mountains, hm?” Tengen said, glancing at Kyojuro. “What else is there that you know about me then?”

You huffed out a laugh, taking a deep swig of your saké under the man’s scrutinous gaze. “Well, nothing too interesting, really. Just the small detail about your wives,” and your endowment that helped you acquire them. “We’ve also heard whispers about your masterful strength, and your enviable looks. Both of you, to be clear.”

“And how do we live up to expectations?” Kyojuro said, staring you down with those blazing golden-red irises.

You opened your mouth to speak, only for Ayra’s slowly slurring speech to interrupt. “You’re both beautiful,” she said, her eyes going soft like a puppy’s. “Lady Kondo is the happiest, richest, most endowed married woman in our village and she would gladly discard her ring for a chance to warm your beds. All of the market girls will die with envy when word spreads about your visit, as they should.”

The men smirked, responding before you had a chance to rephrase Ayra’s words. “And what say you, head maiden?” Tengen said, trailing his eyes down the line of your body. “Do you agree with your sister, and Mrs. Kondo’s hypothetical sentiments?”

His stare lingered on the curve of fabric around your breasts before traveling back up to meet your eyes, and the flame hashira did much of the same. The once warm air in the room suddenly felt sweltering under the weight of their gazes.

“Well,” you said, letting your eyes get lost as you looked over the two men’s bodies. The yukata the men had been given were both well made in quality and fit them both well. Still, despite the toned build of their bodies, the garments left their chests almost completely exposed, and the lines of their muscles were visible well even with the loose fit of the clothes’ sleeves. “I can say that I understand the sentiment, though Lady Kondo is particularly loyal, and monogamous. So, you—Lord Tengen— may not be her type, despite your beauty.”

The hashira hummed, drinking his last sip of saké before pushing away his cup. “What a grave loss for Lady Kondo then. I keep my wives, and lovers, well satisfied. Love is meant to be shared after all, in all of its forms of expression.”

Ayra began to say something, and you pinched her, sipping your bit of saké before pushing your cup away. “That’s a lovely thought,” you said, your voice a touch softer than you’d meant for it to be. “Perhaps all the rumors about you have some merit after all.”

Kyojuro chuckled, his large eyes crinkling a bit at the corners as he did so. “So there are more rumors then,” he said, more like a statement though you took it as a question.

“Only a few,” you said, pointedly looking down toward the men’s laps for a moment. “Though you haven’t confirmed the hearsay about those yet.”

Their eyes darkened, and their looks became less and less subtle as you spoke.

“There are murmurs about you both in the south, too, you know,” Tengen said, no more food or drink in the way to distract you from the conversation. “You both live up to them well. But, unfortunately, there are a few that we haven’t yet gotten confirmed.”

Ayra perked up at that, adjusting her body to sit up on her calves. “There are rumors about our house? Do tell,” she said, staring into the hashira’s deep maroon-colored eyes.

“None too exciting,” he said, smirking. “Mostly things about your amazing baths and that onsen I will need to test out for myself. Our love hashira Mitsuri had wonderful things to say about your food. Kyojuro? Any interesting murmurs that you’ve heard?”

The flame hashira grabbed a heaping mound of cold rice from the plates you’d set aside with his chopsticks, swallowing down his last mouthful of food.

“I’ve only heard whispers from the hinoe-ranks and a few kinoes. They often fight for the opportunity to come to the mountainside to protect your backyard. Your household has something special that keeps them all coming back, despite the dangerous demons that pool on the eastern side of your mountains. Perhaps its beautiful water, or the beautiful women. Who’s to say?”

You scoffed softly, warmth blooming beneath your skin at the compliment. “Well, thank you. It’s a part of our duty to be lovely. The rest comes easy.”

The hashiras’ faces turned stern as they looked at you, while Ayra merely nodded in agreement with you.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t undersell yourself,” Kyojuro said, tilting his chin up pridefully. “We appreciate all that you’ve done. You’re a large piece of what keeps our organization afloat. That deserves to be praised.”

Tengen nodded in agreement with the flame hashira, a soft smile on his lips that felt overwhelmingly kind. “Agreed. We wouldn’t fare well after these harrowing missions without you.”

Ayra swooned, humming like a schoolgirl in love at the hashira’s words. You politely nodded, flashing the two men a smile of your own.

“Fair. I will undersell my talents no longer,” you said, your eyes getting lost again as they trailed down the length of the mens’ bodies. “I’m particularly skilled at first aid. Lucía bandaged your cuts well, but she’s young and still learning. You’ll need to be bandaged up again properly after your baths, and if you wish to dip into the springs. If it’s something you’d like, I can come visit your chambers once you’re ready for me.”

That look embedded deeply into the sound hashira’s eyes shined again, and the flame hashira looked to feel similarly.

“And what of this one? Are you also good with first aid Arya?” Tengen said, his eyes darkening to a maddening shade of fuchsia. “We wouldn’t want you to think your assistance wouldn’t be appreciated as well.”

The drunk girl shook her head, “no,” her eyes drooping low as the alcohol settled in her system.

“She overworked herself a bit after assisting a hinoe-rank that came in a week ago. Her hands are practically arthritic from all of her hard work. So it will just be me if that’s okay?”

The two men nodded, glancing at each other before shaking their heads definitively.

“That’s more than okay with us, maiden.”

tyty for reading! see you in the next one || crossposted on ao3 — here || taglist — here || tags: @bokuroskitten @rosesandtoshi @murdereddaydreams @crystal-lilac @mxgenderbender @mindlesschicca

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #tengen smut #rengoku smut #tengen uzui x reader #black reader #x black reader #tengen x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kk.writes #kk.kny

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fluffytriceratops · 2 years

Text

Most Ardently - Chapter One: Mr. Hamato

Notes: It is time! The post you've all be waiting for! The first chapter of many~ idk why it took me so long to write, hopefully the other's wont take me as long? But I make no promises lol. I hope you all enjoy nonetheless! I'm SUPER excited for the next chapter, cuz ITS ABOUT TO GO DOWN- hehe. (◕ᗜ◕) Also- this isn't EXACTLY like Pride & Prejudice. I've changed quite a few things to make more sense for the story. You don't need to read/watch it before reading if you don't want to. Tho it might contain some spoilers, since it's heavily based/inspired by it. Thank you for all the support! I hope you all have an amazing day/night!! SENDING SO MANY VIRTUAL HUGGLES TO YOU!!! <3

Warnings: none??

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @drowninghell @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @mysticboombox @post-apocalyptic-daydream @raphslovemuffin80 @raphielover @jurikyu-blog @doctorelleth @tmntspidergirl

(If you want to be tagged in future chapters/my TMNT related work, feel free to let me know and I'll happily add you!)

The damp mud squelched from under her boots due to the recent downpour. A smile graced her delicate features. Squinting from the sun that managed to peak through the clouds. Y/n closed the book in her hand. Reaching up to tuck a few strands of hair that managed to escape her bun out of her face. She walked up the steps that led to her home, heals clicking against the heavy stone. Upon entering, her smile fell as she noticed her two youngest sisters eavesdropping by the door of their father's study.

"What have I told you about listening at the door?" She hissed, grabbing the back of Lydia's ponytail and giving it a sharp tug.

Lydia gasped, turning around to shoot a quick glare in Y/n's direction. She gave her a swat to the arm, which Y/n responded to by chuckling. "Never mind that! There's a Mr. Hamato who arrived from the north. Five thousand a year." She giggled, looking towards her other sister, Catherine, who mimicked the bubbly sounds escaping her mouth.

"He's single." They squealed.

Y/n shook her head in mild amusement and took a step forwards, trying to peek at the crack in the door. Jane, the oldest out of all the them who had just been passing by stopped to see what all the fuss was about. "Who's single?" She asked, leaning towards Y/n quizzically.

"A Mr. Hamato apparently." Y/n huffed, wincing as she was shushed by her younger sisters who had been much louder than she was. The four of them leaned in close as they tried to hear what their parents were saying on the other side of the door.

"You know he must marry one of them!" Their mother cried. And the girls giggled in delight. Y/n and Jane shot each other amused glances. Lips twisting up in playful smirks.

Without much warning, the door was suddenly opened and the females gasped in surprise. Giggling not long after at being caught. Their father stood in the doorway, an unimpressed look on his face. "Good heavens.. People." He murmured, slipping past them and into the other room. Mrs. L/n chased after him, calling out his name and making demands. The girl's, who were much more curious than before, followed after their mother quickly. Scurrying like a bunch of mice. Making sure to lift the hem's of their dresses so they wouldn't trip.

"Are you even listening?" Mrs. L/n asked, face red from trying to convince her husband that he (they) must meet this man at once. "You must, Papa!" Kitty (Catherine) cried from behind her. Y/n was just about done with this conversation altogether. But she was curious now too and wanted to know what was going on.

"There's no need," Mr. L/n said, turning around to face them all. "I already have."

"You have?"

"When?"

"Oh Mr. L/n, how can you tease me so? Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?"

Y/n glanced at her mother in disbelief after plopping herself down on the sofa. Holding back her want to snort. It seemed as though the only thing her mother thought about was marrying them off to the first dolt that came forward. It was ridiculous, in her opinion. There were far more important things than marriage. And she didn't want to marry just anyone.

"You mistake me, my dear." Her father grunted as he lowered his old and tired body down into a chair. "I have the highest respect for them. They've been my constant companions these twenty years." He grinned at her teasingly, and Y/n swore her mother's face got even more red. The sight made her grin as well.

Mrs. L/n seemed to get over it quick enough. Immediately asking if he was amiable to which Kitty followed up by asking if he was handsome. Y/n did snort at that. Ignoring the annoyed glance her mother shot in her direction. Mary, the last of the L/n sister's stood in the doorway, completely and utterly confused. "Who?" She asked, lips pursed in a cute pout.

"He's sure to be handsome." Lydia giggled, lifting her skirt and prancing around the room with a smile nearly as wide as her face.

"With five thousand a year, it would not matter if he had warts and a leer." Y/n jested, bringing her knees to her chest to allow Lydia more room as she twirled on by.

"Who's got warts?" Mary asked incredulously, tired of being ignored.

Lydia finished her prancing and dropped down on the floor in front of her father. "So will he come to the ball tomorrow Papa?"

He smiled, "I believe so."

━

"You're pulling my hair!" Lydia cried, desperate to get away from her older sister.

"I am not! Besides, if you weren't wiggling around so much, than I wouldn't be." Y/n said as she grabbed her sisters shoulders and forced her to sit forwards. Stopping her from moving so much.

"That does not make sense." Lydia whined, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout.

Y/n held back the urge to roll her eyes. "You will wrinkle your dress if you continue this way. Just sit still."

"Who do you want to dance with, Mary?" Kitty asked, looking at herself in the mirror. She twirled around in her lovely dress, a giddy smile on her youthful face.

"You know I never dance." Said female muttered. She had always hated balls. Any sort of large gathering, really. "Must I wear this?" She pulled on the itchy fabric of her dress, and Jane swatted her hands away.

"Yes, you must." The blonde insisted, fixing a loose curl in Mary's hair. "Everyone will wear what Mama set out for us."

"Lest she annoy us all night with her complaints." Y/n grumbled, earning a small chortle from Jane. Her lips quirked up at the sound.

"I wish I had a new pair of shoes." Lydia kicked out her feet to draw attention to them. "These are practically laughable."

"Your old ones are perfectly fine. Quit complaining." Y/n finished with her sister's hair and waved her away. Lydia got up cheerfully and waltzed around the room, hooking arms with Catherine. The two danced around together cheerfully.

"Do you think Mr. Hamato will marry one of us?" Asked Kitty, watching her skirt swoosh around her with a smile. Lydia did the same. "I certainly hope so. How divine would that be?"

"Not at all if you miss him entirely because you could not stop starring at yourselves. Have a little humility." Y/n grabbed Jane's hand and they left the room, the younger ones following eagerly. Whispering to one another the entire way.

She might not have said it out loud, but Y/n too was interested to know more about this Mr. Hamato fellow. She had always said she would marry for love. Though she had yet to find it. Unlike her naïve sister's, Y/n wasn't going to throw herself to the first halfwit that gave her attention. If it was not true love than she did not want it at all. And if that meant that she end up alone, then so be it.

Perhaps she was the one who was naïve.

It didn't matter, the only man she needed in her life were the one's in her books. She was perfectly content with them for the moment. Though, she would be lying if she said sometimes she wasn't lonely. Or that sometimes she longed for the companionship of a love interest. Someone who would love her for all her faults and flaws. If Y/n said that she didn't want to marry at all, that would be a terrible lie. And her father raised a daughter with a guilty conscience, not a liar.

As they rode in the carriage to the ball, Y/n couldn't help but let her mind wander. Her fingers fiddled with the fabric of her green dress. Whatever her sisters and mother were talking about became simple background noise. Instead she focused on the singing of birds, the whispering wood, and the rushing of the stream they passed. She listened to the horses hooves hitting the road, and the soft tune their driver whistled. She gazed at the passing of people and trees, the wonderful blueness of the sky, and the farmer's livestock who grazed in their fields. She focused on the sweet musk of her mother's perfume, and the scent of tabasco from her father's pipe. Sometimes she did wish she had met the love of her life and run away with him. But it was simple moments like these that reminded her just how much she loved her family. And how much she would miss them if she left.

Before she had realized it, they had arrived at their destination. Y/n left the carriage, smiling in thanks towards her father who had offered her his hand. As she waited for her family to join her side, her eyes roamed the merry gathering. A great many people had showed up, and she couldn't help but smile at the general splendor. "I wonder if Mr. Hamato has come already, or if he shall show up later."

Y/n looked towards Jane as she spoke, her own beautiful eyes zipping from one person to the next. "I suppose we shall have to go in and see." She said, linking her arm with hers. Jane's lips upturned in a joyful grin and the two didn't hesitate to follow their parents into the grand manor.

Butterflies invaded her stomach from all the excitement. Y/n may have wanted to find love. But she also wanted that for her sister's. She certainly wasn't the most sought after. She was a tangled mess of contradictory things. If it meant that her sisters find happiness, than she would gladly step aside and wait a little while longer for romance.

Some called her foolish for waiting on love. Marriage was a great economic proposition. Especially in her case, having no dowry. She was wasting her life away, believing in such fairytales. It was absolute nonsense. Y/n found it amusing how many people told her so.

"There's too much risk in loving." They would say.

And in response, Y/n would smile and declare, "No. There's too much risk in not."

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gguksgalaxy · 4 years

Text

Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug. Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.” It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?” He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?” You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.” Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.” It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.” There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.” He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.” Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.” You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.” The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.” You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.” Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.” You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch. Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly. “Sit up, please.” Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten @yoongs-jeontae @wintaejk @guksweet @rynofpentacles @mikroparadise @jeonggukkiepabo @softlyjiminie Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth @teresaisla @yeontanie21 @tessanator97 @ladyartemesia @dayjeons @djasheyash99 @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz @bbangtanlove95 @zeharilisharaban @jungkooksgoodgirl @topanga27 @pjmochii @iwanttohitmyself @veryuniquenamegoeshere @bel-abysse @jiminsreads @jungkookspromise

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 11) - Downtown

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a very fun night in downtown Austin but things start to take a turn when Jensen gets anxious and the reader calls in an old friend for help. A week later the whole family heads up North and the reader gets to meet her future family for the first time but she gets the notion she’s not exactly as welcomed as some of them say...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Coitus Interruptus

Word Count: 7,700ish

Warnings: Mature (language, minor frightening situation, semi-public smut, implied past assault, anxiety attack, family angst, family fluff)

A/N: This part is a rollercoaster, trust me! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

A/N: Also written for @spnkinkbingo

________

“Jensen?” you said from the shower a few hours later. He hummed from the vanity where he was fixing his hair. “Are we going to a dress up kind of place for dinner?”

“A dress would probably be in order but something casual, like a summer one or something,” he said. “Like your white one with the little yellow flowers on it.”

“I bought that like three days ago,” you laughed. “You’ve never even seen me in it.”

“You gonna let me see you in it tonight?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you teased.

“I’ll leave it out on the bed,” he said. “Oh and a little something else I’d like if you put on too.”

“Did you buy me underwear?” you laughed.

“You’re gonna have to wait and see, sweetheart,” he said. “Just do what the note on the bed says, alright?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll play your game,” you said. You heard him leave and finished washing up, ducking out of the shower and working on your hair. It dried quickly thankfully and you threw it up into a loose pony tail, a few loose strands framing your face. You put on chapstick and thought about doing your makeup but decided against it. It wasn’t a fancy place you were going from the sounds of it and it was warm out which meant sweat which meant your face was going to melt off anyways.

In the bedroom you found your dress on the bed along with a strip of fabric and a folded piece of paper.

Get dressed and then put this on. I’ll be back soon.

“Well what are you up to Ackles,” you said. You threw on some underwear and a strapless bra, pulling on the short flowy summer dress and leaning back against the bed. You picked up the fabric and shook your head, tying it over your eyes before you laid back on the mattress. About ten minutes later the door opened and you sat up, Jensen chuckling.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“What’s the big secret?” you asked.

“Oh, nothing at all. I am gonna need you to keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times mam,” he said before he was scooping you up. You threw your arms around him and he walked you out of the room, carrying you over to a quiet loft corner of the upstairs. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

You relaxed back into the lounger you occasionally found him hiding away in to take a nap or do some reading. You stretched out, hearing the floor creak.

“Ready to go?” he asked, picking you up once again.

“We’re not going out are we,” you said, holding on as you felt him walk you around and a door open, the air suddenly a bit warmer with a slight breeze to it.

“Oh we’re going out,” he said, setting you down, bare feet touching wood. He undid the blindfold and stepped aside. “Ta da. Your very own private rooftop dinner.”

You looked at the nice table he’d set on his balcony, string lights around you, a bottle of wine sat on a small table nearby along with a few covered trays. He smiled in his khaki shorts and light blue dress shirt, a light flush to his cheeks.

“It’s perfect Jensen,” you said. You gave him a hug and kiss, Jensen showing you over to your seat, sliding it in for you. “You did all this in an hour?”

“Well I started planning it a few hours ago. I ordered the food while I set this up and you take very long showers thankfully,” he chuckled. You looked around as he uncorked the wine, Jensen pouring a few glasses for the two of you. “Too much?”

“No. It’s sweet and romantic but not over the top and…” you trailed off as he set the bottle down. “I just really, really, love you.”

“Me too,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Let’s eat while it’s hot. I have other things in store for this evening after all.”

“Y/N,” giggled Jensen two hours later. “Y/N, you’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Making out in the backseat was your idea I recall,” you said, nipping at his kiss swollen lips.

“I meant more the you jerking me off thing,” he said as he panted up at you. You cocked your head and grinned. “Oh you are so dirty and I am here for it.”

“Please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this car. I’ve never had sex in a car before you know and I really want to tonight. Like really, really, want to,” you said, biting lightly at his neck.

“Glovebox,” he said. You crawled over to the front seat and dug around, finding a few in there.

“Mr. Ackles,” you grinned over the back of the seat, holding one up. “You are not the sweet boy next door you pretend to be, are you?”

“You’re one to talk,” he laughed, shoving his shorts down and rolling a condom on. You climbed back over the bench and straddled him, Jensen moaning softly as you sunk down. You rolled your hips slowly, Jensen thrusting up. “Fuck. We need to have car sex more often.”

“Yes we-” you said before you both heard the very distinctive bleep from a cop car. Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to get off of him, Jensen yanking his shorts up. You saw an officer walking up and you threw your legs over his lap while he fixed his shorts. A knock came at the window and you rolled it down, an officer giving you a hard face.

“Anything we can help you with officer?” asked Jensen. The officer narrowed his eyes and you quickly recognized them when he shook his head.

“Jensen, Jensen, Jensen,” he said, Jensen sighing in relief. “Got a report of two people making out in an Impala. I figured some kids must have stolen my good friend’s car since Jared’s is sitting at home. I did not think you of all people-”

“Shut up,” groaned Jensen.

“Are we in trouble?” you asked. He shook his head and you smiled.

“If you want to make out or do whatever that condom wrapper is on the floor there for, just do me a favor and drive out of town a few more miles. They don’t give a shit about that sort of thing ten minutes over.”

“Duly noted. Can we get back to our business?” asked Jensen. His friend pursed his lips and Jensen pouted. “Remember that time I pretended you were sleeping over so you could go have a sleepover with-”

“Dude. I’m fucking with ya. Have fun. I’ll keep an eye out for a few minutes but then you’re on your own,” he said. “Later Jenny, Y/N.”

“Dick,” said Jensen, smiling as you rolled up the windows. “Where were we?”

“I don’t know. Jenny,” you said, grinning before he pulled you down, your back hitting the seat.

“Oh now you’re asking for it,” he teased, undoing his shorts.

“I’m shaking in my boots at big bad Jenny,” you said, Jensen shoving his shorts down. “So scary.”

“Call me Jenny one more time,” he said, pushing up the bottom of your dress. “I dare ya.”

“Jenny,” you said with a smirk. He leaned down and pushed your underwear aside.

“Gonna regret that,” he growled in your ear. He slid inside of you in one smooth motion, bottoming out and pulling out fast. He slammed in hard and you flew your hand against the door, holding onto his shoulder.

“Fuck,” you breathed out as he pounded into you. He’d never been so rough before and you were all for it. “You can do better than that Jenny. I know you can.”

“You asked for it,” he said, snapping his hips. You squeezed your walls around him, Jensen working on giving you a hickey.

“Is that all you got?” you said, wrapping your legs around him. He growled against your skin and grabbed your wrists, pinning them together against the door.

He thrust hard and you strained against him, legs letting go. You shut your eyes and felt him slow down before stopping completely.

“Honey?” he asked. You forced your eyes open, Jensen’s hands on your face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt something?”

“Bad memory,” you said. He went to sit back and you shook your head. “No. I was having fun until you pinned me like that. Please keep going?”

“Alright,” he said softly. “I won’t-“

“No. Do it.”

“Y/N no,” he said. You grabbed his hand and placed it over your wrists. “Y/N.”

“I trust you. I want good memories and I want to have rough sex and if you scare me I’ll say so. I promise,” you said. He nodded and leaned forward again. He pinned your wrists over your head once more and picked up the pace, quickly falling back into a harsh rhythm. “Come on Jenny. Give it to me.”

He growled and thrust hard into you at a breakneck pace, your legs wrapped around his torso once more.

“I said-“ you got out before a low deep pressure in your core exploded. You gasped and keened your head back, Jensen grunting straight into your ear before he finally stopped, breathing hard. You stared up and took short breaths, Jensen’s hands wrapping around your back and pulling you up into a kiss.

“I love you so much,” he murmured.

“I love you,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you. That was intense but good intense. I felt safe with you.”

“No one’s gonna hurt you ever again,” he said. You gave him a hug he returned, Jensen holding you close. “Was that okay?”

“It was great. I’d love to see this side of you again sometime,” you said, kissing his cheek. “I’m sorry for teasing you though.”

“The Jenny thing? Nah, just a nickname from school. It don’t bother me. Just there’s this rule see only certain people can call me that or else things aren’t gonna end well for them,” he said.

“Am I one of these people?”

“Oh hell no. Not unless you want more of what you just got.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” you said. You felt him grow soft and start slipping out of you, Jensen helping you off of him. He removed the condom with mostly no mess and you stretched out.

“Do you wanna go for a walk? Downtown?” he asked. You nodded and he climbed in the front seat, driving the car away from the park and on a side street that was busier. You ducked out of the backseat, rubbing your arms in the cooler night air.

Jensen walked around with his hoodie in his hands, handing it to you. You pulled it over your head and smiled, Jensen taking your hand, tossing the condom in a trash can you went past.

“You know, you make me feel like I’m some kid in love for the first time,” said Jensen. “But we both know that’s not true but for some reason, I haven’t felt much like a 43 year old lately.”

“My brain is stuck on like age twenty,” you said.

“Same,” he chuckled. “Your head always stays young somehow.”

“So what do you mean by that not feeling age comment then?”

“I feel like some teenage kid that just wants to run off with you on a whim but I can’t exactly do that.”

“Yeah you can. We’re doing it right now,” you said.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

“I know. But the kids are always a positive to me. Sure we can’t run off for a week at the drop of a hat but most people can’t either. I know what I signed up for. I have to share you and be second fiddle sometimes and I’m okay with that.”

“Why though?” he asked. “Don’t you want to be selfish sometimes, just have it be us?”

“Sure but I don’t need whole days. Waking up with you, falling asleep, quiet cups of coffee or impromptu lazy days and dates, a moment here and there is good enough. I don’t need you to tell me you love me all day everyday. I already know so the moments, those are more than good.”

“People aren’t really like that,” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Not when they’re starting out in a relationship anyways.”

“Well I’ve only ever been in two serious relationships. One lasted a decade and went nowhere. The other one, maybe we don’t get everything two kids who are figuring it out for the first time do. But we get a lot of shit they don’t either. I don’t get bullshit. I don’t get games. It’s real and the fact you’re a father and have responsibilities and obligations that come before me doesn’t bother me. I love you and you make me a better person, a happier person. But I just don’t get the logic that I should want more when you can’t give it and I can’t take it.”

“Do you wish we could start from scratch though?” he asked. “Hypothetically.”

“Start from scratch when? You would have been thirty one when I was eighteen and I sure as hell wasn’t mature enough for an older guy back then. You wouldn’t be you and I wouldn’t be me, not these versions at least.”

“You don’t have it in you to be selfish and just say you wish things were different,” he said. You stopped at a corner and shook your head.

“Yeah, Jensen. If I had things my way, you would have zero idea I existed. You’d be with Dee on this date right now and not me,” you said. He crossed his arms and grabbed yours, turning you down the block again as you walked. “Jensen…we were having a nice night. I don’t want to fight.”

He stopped and walked your back against a brick wall, planting a fast kiss on you.

“Stop saying shit like that,” he breathed out when he pulled back.

“Shit like what?”

“Shit like you’re less important to me. What, cause I knew her longer I’m supposed to love her more? Cause we have kids she’s always more important and you’re the rebound? I hate when you say shit like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, Jensen planting his hands on either side of you.

“I don’t know how to make you not think that. Because I know how I feel and it has ripped me apart thinking how wrong it was for me to care about you like I do. To love you as much as I do. Because it’s not less. It’s not more. It’s just different but the same and I need you to tell me how to make you believe me. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

“You’re crying,” you said, wiping off his face. He straightened up and sighed, letting you wipe him off with the sleeves of his hoodie. You grabbed his hand and pulled him around the corner to the entrance of an alley, Jensen glancing down it.

“It’s not safe,” he said before you put a hand over his mouth.

“I did not say that to upset you and I don’t think what I said came out right. I know I’m not a rebound. All I was trying to say is if I could have stopped you from hurting so badly, stop the kids, stop everyone, from going through that pain, I would have. I’d let you go for that.”

“You don’t know how fucked up I was before you,” he said. He glanced at the street and sighed. “Y/N I act. I’m damn good at it. I can play the bad guy, the fucking cocky bastard, the hero. I can play any character that gets thrown at me. I can pretend to my friends and my family that six months after she was gone I was better. So I fucking pretended and pretended and every single moment was focused on those three kids and nothing else. Nothing mattered to me. I didn’t matter to me. But I needed to work again and I needed help and you walked through the front door and it fell apart. You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“Jensen…” you said, pulling him into a hug. You saw a sketchy guy cut through the alley, rushing over. “Fuck off! We’re having a fucking moment!”

The guy froze and stared at you, heading back the other direction.

“Did you just scream at a mugger?” asked Jensen, staring back into the alley as you tugged him back out into the light.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I...have you ever been to a therapist? Honestly?” you asked.

“No. I lied about that,” he said as he looked down. “I told my family that and they bought it.”

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and turning around. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Somewhere you can talk,” you said. “I promise.”

One Hour Later

“Y/N,” said Dr. Moseley. You scrambled from hanging your feet over the back of the couch and righted yourself, Jensen chuckling as he stepped out from the office into the lobby area. “Been doing that since she was a kid. Some habits die hard.”

“I think that’s just how she enjoys watching TV,” said Jensen while you hit the button on the remote. You stood up and Jensen looked a whole lot red eyed but lighter too. “I feel better. A lot better.”

“Y/N, your turn,” said Dr. Moseley and you stared. “You gonna call my office and ask for an emergency session for your fiance I’m not letting you slip out of here without a quick tag up.”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I’m hungry.”

“Ten minutes tops,” said Dr. Moseley to Jensen. You padded into the familiar office, the door closing behind you. “So. How have things been?”

“I don’t know. Is my fiance alright?” you asked.

“Yeah. I don’t even peg him as a repeat customer. He does need to work on bottling things up though. I know you have some good tips for that,” he said as you nodded. “You look good. Things are more stable it sounds like.”

“Yeah. I dumped the loser. Sold a children’s book,” you said.

“Ah you loved drawing I remember. That’s all we did our first session together,” he said.

“You didn’t tell him, did you.”

“You didn’t tell him either,” he said. “I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

“You did say if I was ever in trouble,” you said, looking back at the door. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah. He’s getting close to the year anniversary of the death. It can be triggering to some. But I think with you he’ll be just fine,” he said.

“Thanks Ray,” you said, spotting the picture on the shelf behind him. “Shit, Georgie got big.”

“Well you haven’t seen him in nine years and he was ten last time you saw him,” he chuckled, pulling out his phone and showing you a few pictures. “Taylor had her twentieth birthday last week.”

“My soon to be step daughter’s is next week,” you said with a smile.

“Shit you all grew up fast. That’s what I get for adopting,” he chuckled to himself, taking a seat on the couch beside you. “Thanks for calling tonight.”

“I knew you’d help him,” you said.

“Sounds like he helps you too,” he said.

“He’s alright,” you said with a shrug.

“He’s a little old for you.”

“Mom was a little old for you,” you said, Ray smiling. “How’s Sarah?”

“Good. She asks about you every so often,” he said. “Asks if we made up yet.”

“We never fought,” you said. You looked down, Ray tucking a hair behind your ear.

“You stopped smiling when your mom got her diagnosis,” he said. “No matter what I did, I couldn’t get a smile back on that face.”

“Ray it wasn’t you,” you said.

“The way you lit up when you saw him walk out of this room...I don’t know how you got that spark back but I’m glad you found it,” he said.

“He has a lot to do with that,” you said. “The kids do.”

“I wasn’t in a great place myself when I met you,” he said. “God I did not realize-”

“When that snarky eight year old walked in you’d end up with her mom?” you asked.

“It was highly inappropriate,” he said.

“So is ending up with the dad you were nannying for,” you said.

“Mom would like him. He’s kind. Got a lot of love in there,” he said. “He said that thing she used to say to me.”

“I may have told him about the you can have more than one person thing.”

“She’d like him,” he said.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I’d prefer you not end up with you know, a celebrity. But if you’re gonna be with one, be with that one. He stays out of trouble,” he said.

“Uh, how would you know that?” you asked.

“Sarah’s something of a...fan of his old show. When she saw you in the background of his instagram photo, I did a little digging.”

“Ray.”

“I care about you. Sue me,” he said. You turned and looked out the dark window. “It was good seeing you again.”

“You know you didn’t do anything wrong right?” you said.

“I know. You had to go and find your own way. I understand it. It doesn’t mean you can’t ever come back,” he said. “If you want that is.”

“Ray I’m not looking for a father,” you said.

“You don’t have to look at all,” he said.

“If you wanted in my life so badly you could have adopted me. You could have married mom. But you didn’t and less than two years later-”

“Your mother did not want to marry again and I didn’t adopt you to because you didn’t want me to.”

“Of course I wanted you to. You don’t need a fucking PhD to figure that one out.”

“No you didn’t. You told me yourself.”

“I was a pissed off, upset, hormonal teenager, Ray. I wanted the exact opposite of that. I wanted to know you loved me just as much as you did her and maybe you did but it left a mark and I left. You moved on and I moved on. Let’s be happy and forget about the rest, alright?”

“Alright,” he said as you stood. “If you ever-”

“I know. I can call you,” you said. He nodded and you went to the door, leaning your head back. “Maybe you guys can come over for swimming or something sometime.”

“You just said you moved on.”

“I moved on from being pissed off at you a long time ago. I have lived with a man that lost the love of his life for six months. Losing mom fucked you up just as bad and I was too young to understand that back then. But maybe we can do dinners every once in a while again, you know?”

“I’d like that,” he said.

“I’ll call sometime when things are a little slower for us.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile He got up and you paused, getting a hug from him. “He’ll be alright, needed to let it out, hear you’re not going anywhere is all.”

“Were you ever afraid of losing Sarah?” you asked. “You’ve been in his position before is why I ask.”

“People are different but yeah, when someone gets inside like that after you’ve suffered losing that before, it’s frightening. It can be debilitating. It can ruin things.”

“But you and Sarah got married and are still together.”

“Be gentle with him when he’s afraid. Comfort him but don’t coddle him. His fears will become manageable and quiet. He has fallen unconditionally in love with you knowing how much pain happens when it gets taken away. Part of him says run away and save yourself from it happening again. Part of him says she’s worth every second of that pain. It’s how I was. Just treat him normally and he’ll learn to live with it.”

“It doesn’t go away?”

“Has he ever been late coming home? Fender bender?”

“He got bit by a scorpion recently,” you said.

“Did you freak out?”

“On the inside,” you said as he smiled. “So that’s the cost.”

“The good times are worth the bad ones,” he said. “Go take him around the corner to Mort’s. They’re open until midnight in the summer.”

“Do they still do the peach cobbler sundae?” you asked.

“Oh yeah,” he said.

“Do you want to…” you trailed off.

“It’s late but I appreciate the offer. Another time for sure though. I have a soccer game to get ready for in the morning,” he said with a sigh. “I am so not coaching next year. I should have quit when Taylor graduated.”

“Yeah you will,” you said. “You were even my coach back in the day.”

“I still can’t kick the ball yet for some reason they want me to be head coach,” he chuckled as he opened the door. Jensen had his nose in the bookshelf, turning around with a curious look. “Y/N’s going to take you out for ice cream. Doctor’s orders.”

“Is this...Y/N?” asked Jensen, pointing at a photograph. Ray walked over and smiled as he picked it up.

“She was about ten years old in that picture,” he said, showing it to you.

“I remember that day. You puked on the ferris wheel,” you said.

“I don’t do rides well,” he said, putting it back.

“Wait I thought you were her therapist for all the crap that happened as a kid,” said Jensen, glancing at you.

“I was. Y/N’s mother felt after the adoption it’d be good for her, for them both, to have Y/N see someone,” said Ray.

“Oh. That’s nice you do like a fun day for your patients,” said Jensen. You rolled your eyes as Ray chuckled.

“Jensen. This is Dr. Moseley. Dr. Ray Moseley. My mom’s old boyfriend,” you said. Jensen looked at Ray and smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Jensen. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Well that’s always good,” said Ray. “I’ll see you two around sometime.”

“We would like that,” you said, taking Jensen’s hand. “Let’s let Ray head home. He’s got an early morning.”

“It was nice meeting you Jensen. Call anytime you need to, day or night,” said Ray.

“Thanks,” said Jensen. A few minutes later you were back on the street and walking down the block, Ray driving off in his car. “So the therapist you know from when you were a kid is Ray?”

“Yeah. It’s how they met. My mom wanted me to deal with the stuff my dad did. Ray helped me process and be a pretty normal kid again. He and mom hit it off. He was done for the first day they met he said. They got together after I finished up my sessions. When you started talking like that earlier and said you never spoke to anyone, I knew Ray could help.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, letting you lead him towards an ice cream shop. You sent him over to a table out front while you ordered, returning after a moment with a sundae in a dish and two spoons. “I’m sorry, for lying about seeing a therapist.”

“Why did you?” you asked, taking a seat and handing him a spoon.

“It’s what I told everyone. People don’t worry so much,” he said with a shrug. “I...I’m normally the one that other people can come to for help. I’m not so good at asking for it. I got tired of everyone constantly asking me are you okay? Let me do this for you. Let me do that. I got it, you go rest. I wanted everyone to leave me alone and treat me normally again. Lying took care of that mostly.”

“Please don’t lie to me ever again,” you said. He nodded and you cocked your head. “You don’t have to talk to me but if you feel like you’re bottling stuff up to that extreme again, talk to someone. Please.”

“I will. I’m sorry for acting how I did earlier. All you were trying to say was you’d stop me from being hurt if you could and I twisted it.”

“Sounds like you untwisted it.”

“Ray was good to talk to. An objective third party telling you stuff puts it in perspective.” He picked at the sundae and smiled when he took a bite, going back for a bigger piece. “What’d you two talk about in there?”

“You. Me,” you said, getting a scoop of whip cream. “I told him maybe they could come over for a swim and dinner sometime.”

“He still loves you you know.”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “When things calm down, maybe…”

“Do you still love him?” You nodded and scraped away at piece of ice cream that was threatening to fall off the edge of the dish. “Do you think he’ll hurt you?”

“He had the opportunity after my mom died to adopt me. But he didn’t. It hurt that he didn’t. I got it in my head that he only cared about me for her and it wasn’t right but it’s what I felt back then.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I understand he was in pain and I was a brat that took all of mine out on him. I wish he had fought me harder on staying in a way. Let me know he did care.”

“Y/N honey,” said Jensen, leaning forward in his seat. “He has a picture of you in his office. I think you asked for your space and he let you have it. I think that was his attempt at saying he cared back then.”

“Which is why maybe...he can come back into my life,” you said.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll support it,” he said. “It’s not a simple decision.”

“No, I know he never stopped caring but he was the adult and I was the kid back then. I needed him to say stay.”

“Well, I know somebody who wants you to stay. Actually he’s not letting you go ever,” he said.

“Oh really?” you said, Jensen smirking. “Never ever?”

“Nope. You’re stuck with him for eternity. Sorry in advance for any future freak out sessions,” he chuckled.

“You were scared and a guy like you, I know you hate being scared. Freak out everyday and it still wouldn’t bother me,” you said.

“You’re similar though.”

“True but it works. I take care of you, you take care of me, we eat ice cream and make out in the back of your car and it sounds pretty good to me.”

“I like the way you think.”

Ten minutes later you were walking through downtown, Jensen’s hand holding yours loosely. You walked past a young couple, one of them carrying a sleeping toddler.

“You’d make a really cute baby,” he said. You looked over at him and smiled. “Not you you. I mean-”

“I know what you meant. How do you know if you’re ready?” you asked.

“You don’t. Not really. You can prep but you’re never really ready. I always thought you know, when you’re stable, mature enough, when you want it, then you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to take care of an infant.”

“Haven’t you been a nanny to babies before though?”

“Yeah. But...the trying to raise a good person thing. A happy, good, kind person. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“Says the woman who knows when a little boy is crying because of a tantrum and when he’s crying because something is wrong.”

“That’s different.”

“You’ve been doing it for months. I trust you with them completely, to make any kind of decision for them. They’re your kids too now.” You slowed your pace and he matched it, squeezing your hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Hearing you say that is nice is all.”

“Believe me. I don’t think anyone in the world could possibly love you more than I do but if anyone does, it’s those three kids,” he said. “They ask about Dee more again and it’s all smiles. They ask about you a whole lot. For some reason they’re convinced we went to school together and that’s where we met.”

“I’m gonna check that under you look good and not I look old,” you laughed.

“No, no you don’t. You’re the one getting carded still, not me,” he said.

“Remember that waitress that kept flirting with you at that restaurant in Toronto? That was fucking hilarious.”

“You thought it was hilarious. I was dying showing her my drivers license and showing her the math of how you physically could not be my daughter.”

“Boys hit puberty at thirteen though,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me a guy like you hit it in highschool.”

“I was about five four my first year. You so could have kicked my little shrimpy ass. It was super awesome when all your buddies are like, growing a foot in a month and getting muscle and starting to shave and I’m like, the hobbit.”

You laughed and he bumped your shoulder.

“I really wanted to play football in school but I was always way too small. It’s why I wound up in baseball. Plus I think my mom liked it cause it was safer.”

“Eh, but some of those guys peak in high school. You haven’t hit yours yet.”

“You talking looks or like life?”

“Both. I mean when the new season of The Boys comes out you’re gonna get exposed to a huge audience. You’re gonna get to act in like, oscar movie shit and stuff,” you said. He shrugged and you bumped him back. “You’re gonna do amazing.”

“I don’t care about being in that kind of movie really though. I want to do fun things, things that interest me. I’m very happy if my biggest role is Dean Winchester.”

“Well, Dean gave you the opportunity to play Soldier Boy and he’s gonna give you more choices. Dean’s probably what you’ll be known for but you have some more power now cause of that. Maybe even more power with Dean someday. Just do stuff that you want to from now. As long as it makes you happy at the end of the day, I’m all for it.”

“I’m gonna promise you right here and now I won’t ever be away for months on end. I was gone so much before. I like being home. I’m not going away for nine months of the year ever again.”

“It’ll work,” you said. “I bet you could get your own little show in town like Jared if you wanted.”

“I will take the role of dad and future husband for now,” he said.

“That’s a good role when you think about it.”

“Very good,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “What time is it?”

“About ten thirty,” you said. “Getting tired?”

“Band’s playing at a bar downtown, that one we heard that night you said I was your best friend.”

“Of course that is what you remember from that night,” you said, leaning against him. “They’re really in Austin?”

“Yup. You wanna go?”

“I’d love to.”

One Week Later

“Are we there yet?” groaned JJ from the backseat as Jensen drove through a suburb.

“We will be there in ten seconds,” he said, turning down another street before pulling into a driveway. “Go on and harass your grandparents.”

She unbuckled herself in the backseat and opened the door, dashing off and up to the house.

“What about you two? Ready to see grandma and grandpa?”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” said Arrow, kicking in her car seat. Jensen shook his head as you climbed out, undoing Zeppelin and watching him run across the grass up to the front door that was now open.

“Let Arrow go first buddy!” said Jensen as Arrow ran around the car and into the house. “The kid hasn’t had a drink all morning yet she pisses like a race horse I swear.”

��She did knock back about three juice boxes on the way here,” you laughed.

“Gotta cut that kid off at two,” he chuckled, going to the back of the truck. He pulled out his suitcase and the kids while you grabbed your own and the bag with JJ’s birthday presents. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Probably a year.”

“You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he said. You followed him up to the house, setting the presents bag down by the door, carrying the suitcases upstairs. “You can put the kids stuff in here. This was my sister’s room.”

“It’s huge,” you said, spotting the bunks up against the wall. “That’s really nice with the full size beds.”

“My parents re did it once there were grandkids and stuff for the holidays. We can stay in my old room,” he said, showing you across the hall. It was smaller and a bit plain but you did notice the cowboy blanket on the bed. He quickly grabbed it and bundled it up, opening a closet door and shoving it inside.

“Yours?” you asked, reaching out for it. He nodded and hesitated a moment before letting you have it. “Is this from when you were little?”

“Yeah,” he said as you saw how the color had faded away in some spots.

“Do you like to leave it here? We could bring it home if you want,” you said.

“I’m 43.”

“And…” you said, folding it and handing it back to him.

“I wouldn’t exactly say this goes with the master bedroom decor, would you?”

“Alright,” you said. “Seems special is all.”

He left it out on the bed as you looked out a window to the backyard, a few people out there along with the kids.

“Those your parents?” you asked.

“Yeah. That’s my-” he said before he let out a whoof. You turned and saw him tackled on the bed by a man and woman, both of them chuckling. “Guys, come on.”

“Relax, we’re just having fun, Jens,” said the man as he straightened up and Jensen sat up. “Hi. You must be the girlfriend.”

“Yeah. I’m Y/N,” you said, holding out a hand. You were surprised when the man and woman looked at each other and then gave you a hug. You returned it briefly, both of them chuckling while Jensen groaned on bed.

“We know all about you. Josh. Mack. Obviously you know doofus over there,” said Josh.

“Guys,” groaned Jensen.

“Calm yourself,” said his sister. “We’re saying hi to our future sister in law is all.”

“I hate this,” said Jensen, laying back and throwing a pillow over his face.

“He’s never been good with the whole introducing his girl to the family thing. Ain’t that right, Jenny?” asked Josh. Jensen sighed under the pillow and he rolled his eyes. “Well, you can lay there. We’re stealing her.”

“What?” said Jensen as Mackenzie pushed you out of the room. Josh whistled as he ducked out and pulled the door shut, holding it in place.

“Josh let me out!” said Jensen. “It wasn’t funny when I was five and it’s not funny now!”

“Believe me, it’s always been funny,” said Mackenzie to you, nodding at Josh as he pulled a headband around the handle and then over to a curtain rod at the window next to the wall.

“Joshua! I’ll call mom!” said Jensen through the door.

“We need five minutes alone with Y/N. I’ll let you out when we’re done,” said Josh. He stepped into the room next door, Mackenzie pushing you inside.

“Uh, what is this?” you asked, taking a seat on the bed. They looked at one another and shut the door. You swallowed but saw them both smile.

“Thank you,” she said, Josh nodding. “Jensen’s had a hard year and last time we saw him at Christmas-”

“He wasn’t doing so hot. He can act his ass off but he can’t pretend to us,” said Josh.

“He sounds...he’s always so excited to talk about you on the phone, even if we don’t know that many details. He’s always been a little vague but we know you’re the reason he’s doing so well.”

“So don’t worry about the nanny stuff or being the new fiance or whatever you’re worried about. We don’t get to see our brother that much but we like hearing him like his old self again,” said Josh.

“You guys really don’t have a problem with me?” you asked. “Like seriously?”

“You’re not like, crazy right?” asked Mackenzie. You shook your head. “So then seriously we don’t have a problem with you.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly. You tucked your hair behind your ear and took a deep breath. “I know I’m...not her. And I’m younger and I was the nanny and it’s really easy to assume things about me...I don’t want anything to come between him and his family and especially not have that be me. I know all of you took care of him and I want him to feel comfortable again, not get stressed out at seeing you guys.”

“He didn’t want to see us?” asked Mackenzie.

“He does. It’s a feeling I get from him is all. He loves me and I know he wants…me getting along with you guys is important to him,” you said.

“You can be part of this family too,” said Josh. “Really. We know it’ll never go back to how it was but we can have something just as good.”

“We do have one question though,” said Mackenzie. You smiled and nodded as she sat next to you. “Why do you like him? We think he’s horrendous but we get that people find him attractive.”

“He’s handsome but he makes me the happiest I think I’ve ever been in my life. Mine’s kind of been a cluster and he’s a good best friend to have. I just like him I suppose,” you said.

“Do you prank him?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, the two of them smirking.

“Yeah you’re cool with us,” said his brother. “Come on, let’s let the dork out before he calls mom on us.”

He stepped outside and Jensen huffed when Josh let him out.

“What did-” he said before you stepped over to Jensen. “Did they-”

“We had a little talk is all. They love you and so do I so there’s absolutely nothing to worry about besides the fact you can’t escape your childhood bedroom. We may need to consider getting a dog if that keeps up,” you said.

“Well...good,” said Jensen, crossing his arms. “And I’ll have you know, that headband has elastic in it.”

“The arms are for show,” whispered Mackenzie.

“You’re due for a noogie,” said Jensen, skirting past you and chasing her down the hall.

“You got any siblings?” asked Josh to you as Jensen tackled his sister into a bedroom. You shook your head and he smiled. “Well, this is about how it goes around here.”

“How often does she win? Having two older brothers and all.”

“More often than you’d think. Our brother in law is at work still but he’s always a wild card on if he’ll help us torture or not.”

“Ah so you’re all grown children, not just Jensen.”

“Pretty much,” he said, Jensen laying back in the hall. “Ready to go see mom and dad?”

“Not really,” mumbled Jensen.

“Time to face the music,” said Josh, pushing you down the hall and stepping over Jensen. He popped up to his feet and you headed downstairs.

“Hold up,” said Jensen.

“Tell him to calm down,” said Josh in your ear. You nodded and his siblings headed outside as an older woman came in.

“Hey mom,” said Jensen, getting a large hug from her when she spotted you both in the kitchen.

“You look so good! You got some weight back,” she said, Jensen sighing. “You were too skinny and you know it. You eating enough again?”

“Yes ma,” he said, shaking his head. He reached out a hand and you let him take it, his mother giving you a friendly enough smile. “This is Y/N, my fiance.”

“Fiance?” she said, looking you up and down. Something about it felt off though and you forced a happy look on your face. “The kids didn’t mention that.”

“It’s a recent development,” said Jensen as he squeezed your hand. “I know it seems a little fast probably but we’ve been together nearly six months.”

“Oh. So you got together not long after the holidays,” she said, a smile on her face but you both saw through it.

“Yeah,” said Jensen, his father coming in the back door with a water bottle. “Dad this is Y/N.”

“They’re engaged, Alan,” she said. “Isn’t that nice?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Donna you mind coming with me to pick up the food order?”

“We can get it,” you said, both of them staring at you. “We know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen the kids.”

“We’ll get it,” he said, voice not necessarily harsh but there was a firmness there you weren’t expecting. They skirted past the two of you and out the front door, Jensen watching it close.

“Why don’t you introduce me to the rest of the family?” you said.

“Sure,” he said quietly. “Right this way.”

________

A/N: Read Part 12 here!

#spnkinkbingo #supernatural #spn #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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emeren · 3 years

Text

bloodlust ☤ 1

taglist ☤ masterlist ☤ archive of our own ☤ next chapter >>

“The devil and I get along just fine...”

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vampire!Eren

Word Count: 5.1 k

Chapter Warnings: Blood, anxiety

Chapter Summary: Reader, a nurse, finds themselves facing a fanged beast, unsure what to make of the world. But this devil with dark hair may not have the intentions you think.

☤ this work of fiction deals with vampires. in turn, there will be discussions of blood and minimal gore. it will also include nsfw content in the near future. all chapters will be marked appropriately☤

Moonlight soaked the path towards his freedom. It danced and reflected off of the dew coated blades of grass. Each one emulated a life he planned to save, with the destruction of his people and the protection of the person he cared for most in the world. She had yet to materialize into something more than the soft breeze of a memory.

He was hungry; the tortuous cry of his instinct to ravage told him so. However, years of training and restraint had yielded him more than capable of swallowing his own desire. The one thing he sought most weighed heavier than impotent monstrous actions. For his goal, he could resist the craving to release his sharpened fangs.

He allowed his eyes one last glance over the house he’d called home for the past four years; dark and gloomy against the stormy night sky. Soon, those who’d chained him in shackles and dragged him to the cellar would be amiss in panic. Wrought iron bars that once caged his devilish soul would be found empty. A beast was on the run.

He felt brief sorrow for those he would hurt in the process of securing their freedom from a pained existence. But he’d made up his mind. All that was left to do was to head north.

His nimble hands pulled the dark hood of his coat above his head. He took one deep breath, the entrancing smell of rain and dirt wafting through the air.

North, to the person that occupied his past, present, and future. To freedom.

☤ ☤ ☤

You considered yourself well suited to the role you’d decided to serve for the rest of your life. Time spent meticulously memorizing health patterns and disease characteristics had broadened your sense of confidence. Doubt rarely ever plagued your mind past the childish decision of what to eat for breakfast in the morning.

Nursing had not always been your final destination in life; the unprecedented scared you enough to mark healthcare as a profession to avoid. Losing two parents unexpectedly in high school due to a mysterious illness had been enough to change your once convinced mind.

Your rain jacket was slick with the slight precipitation clouding the late night sky as you entered the hospital locker room -- a weak cup of coffee in hand, marred with a ring of chapstick residue against the lip. Night shifts were often greeted with unrelenting misery on your behalf.

“You look excited to be here,” The familiar tone of your coworker hummed from behind you. There seemed no force strong enough to concur surprise in your unrested eyes. Historia was someone who lacked a certain fear factor in most aspects of her being, anyways.

“I didn’t see you when I came in, Historia,” You answered, eyes glancing over your shoulder to take in the blonde-haired nurse. Despite having walked in the rain the same as you, her demeanor was much more spritely.

She gave you a smile, following you towards your adjacent lockers. “Ah, I came in the back entrance today.”

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s working the night shift,” Your half-assed attempt at being friendly mingled with the clammer of your locker. Historia chuckled softly from behind her door.

“I prefer the night shift, actually. Isn’t this your third night on?” She asked. You slipped your wet jacket from your shoulders, shaking it slightly before hanging it in the metal box.

“Yeah, it is. Can’t say I enjoy it as much as you do,” You lightly closed the door, Historia doing the same. Overt kindness wasn’t a trait you claimed when burnt out on work; she knew this and gave you no foul for it.

Her blue eyes crinkled in the ghost of a smile. “Not a creature of the night, hm?”

“I’m no vampire, that’s for sure,” You chuckled. Historia’s smile faltered slightly. It came as no surprise that she was afraid of monsters and ghouls. You decided to change the subject in her favor. “Speaking of, I hear it’s a full moon tonight.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened, coy smirk wiggling its way back onto her blushed cheeks. Despite your adverse to the unknown, you enjoyed indulging in childish hospital rumors. The notion that weird cases spiked on nights when the moon was full in the sky was a tale as old as time; strange people flooded the hospitals, with even stranger injuries and illnesses. Or so that was what people said, not that you’d ever experienced it yourself. “I wonder if anything crazy will happen tonight.”

“Doubt it,” You stepped aside, allowing her to match your stride as the two of you headed towards the conference room for a briefing before the shift. She hummed in agreement, the rest of the walk done in a comfortable silence.

The room for debriefing was a mundane conference set up. The walls were a bleached white; anatomy posters and warnings about the harmful nature of cigarettes decorating the walls. An oval desk surrounded by blue, plastic chairs took up most of the room. It smelled like microwaved Kraft, courtesy of a nurse scarfing down a last helping before their shift started.

“That’s odd,” Historia frowned, blue eyes tracing the room. Staff sat around in quiet huddles, most silently waiting for the briefing to start. She glanced down at her watch before nudging you in the arm. “Where’s Doctor Smith? We start in two minutes.”

The tall, burly man was never late for a briefing; his stoic nature didn’t allow room for such a lack. He had never given you a reason to doubt his trust, but something about his demeanor made you uneasy. He commanded a room with such conviction that your coworkers fell to his feet with unadulterated respect; you, a mindless sheep following their lead. Rational thought would’ve placed your discomfort on his position of power and his role as your boss. Simply put, however, he gave you the creeps.

The plastic chair skidded against the polished floor as you took your seat at the table beside Historia. The older staff coughed and occasionally grumbled, filling the tired silence with a sense of annoyance. Your blonde coworker sensed your gripe, elbowing you in the ribs and leaving a crease in your lilac scrubs. You suppressed a smile.

“Pardon me,” Doctor Smith’s commanding voice echoed through the room before he stepped in the doorway. Your muscles tensed; back straightening as if to give the illusion that you hadn’t been hunched over, looking exhausted and miserable. His blond hair was perfectly sculpted; not a strand out of place and not a wrinkle in his blue dress shirt. His lab coat was almost a sickeningly bleached titanium. “Sorry for my tardiness; I was dealing with an emergency back home.”

Historia shifted beside you.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He gave a terse smile before picking his clipboard off of the table and flipping through the papers. “Looks like we’ve got the regular scheduling for this evening. As usual, the night shift staffing is lighter than our other shifts, so remember to be vigilant and take action without being told to.”

You tended to tune out the mundane precautions and warnings that were part of a pre-shift briefing. Outside the window, rain pattered against the glass pane. The shower provided a sense of comfort; rain often preceded a night spent inside, wrapped in blankets with a mug of hot tea. Though your current schedule didn’t allow room for such indulgence, you took a small delight in the weather condition.

Historia bumped your knee with her own under the table. You glanced at your friend, slightly alarmed from your daze. She leaned over, attempting to discreetly whisper in your ear. “He looks distracted tonight, hm? Wonder what that’s about.”

Your eyes glanced at Doctor Smith, who was reading through the clipboard with a staccato like urgency. Not wanting to cause any disturbance, you nodded your head in agreement.

“We’ll follow through with our regular assignments. If you don’t know where you’re located this evening, I suggest checking the bulletin in the locker room. As for this meeting, you’re all free to go,” His blue irises scanned the faces of all the employees, searching for confusion or questions to be answered. You averted your gaze, following suit as the rest of the room erupted in moving chairs and shuffling scrubs.

You already knew where you were working for the night; the same place as the last two, over in the geriatrics wing. This night would be the same as the others, not that you were in any place to be upset about that.

“Y/N!” Historia’s voice called you to look over your shoulder, barely out of the conference room. She had a slimy smile on her face; the kind that reeked of favors and avoidance. You felt the need to control your eyebrow from rising in annoyance. “Can I ask you something?”

You exhaled from your nose. “Shoot.”

“I have a patient in room 702 that I was assigned to,” The slightest batting of her mascara slicked lashes, blue irises working their hardest to win you over. You raised your eyebrows, urging her to continue. The other staff shuffled by you, sparing nosy glances. “I was wondering if you could take it? I’ll work in the geriatrics wing tonight for you.”

You had to give it to the tiny woman; for all she was worth, she was great at getting people to do what she wanted. You valued her responsibility and reliability, and she’d proved to be a friendly presence in the workplace. However, that didn’t stop you from seeing the selfish underbelly of her prosperous actions.

“What’s the patient in for?” You humored her. Even if her request was self-fulfilling, you figured might as well use it to your own advantage. Almost anything beat another night in geriatrics changing diapers and administering pill dosages.

“A blood transfusion,” She responded, smiling softly at you. “I’m not very good with bloody things, you know. Easily squeamish.”

You pretended to ponder whether or not to take her up on her offer. It was an easy choice, really. “Yeah, sure. What blood type are they?”

☤ ☤ ☤

The stand rattled unpleasantly against the tiled ground as you stopped in front of room 702. The thick bag of blood shook slightly from the sudden stop. How Historia had ever become a nurse when grossed out with the concept of blood, you weren’t sure. It seemed that her sweet disposition often aided her in whatever situation she needed to change for the better. You were an adult woman though, so whatever her motivations might’ve been didn’t concern you.

You gave the cart a once over, making sure all the necessary tools and items were there: a needle, an IV, gauze, those sorts of things. Blood transfusions were a typically fussless procedure; tediously watching the red liquid pump itself into the body.

Your knuckles lightly knocked on the door. “Hello, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion!”

Silence, beating through the empty hallway of the hospital. The lights were dimmed and eerily abandoned. You waited for ten seconds before opening the door to the sleepy room.

The heavy door creaked open, revealing he who was to be given blood. Historia had mentioned he was a John Doe, lying unconscious on the bleached sheets. You turned back to grab your cart, not bothering to be quiet. He’d be awake soon enough, anyway.

As you wheeled it in, your back was to the patient. The cart squeaked and rattled, stopping at the foot of the bed. You turned around, ready to rouse him from his slumber.

Beautiful.

You’d had attractive patients before. Both men and women who floated by life with the easy wings of accurately placed facial features to boost them up. A pretty face often had heat rising to your cheeks, but professionalism stopped you from thinking any further. Natural biological responses couldn’t be helped, after all.

Never had a patient left your lips parting in awe, heart drumming up it’s own beat of excitement in your chest. His face was slim; sharp jawline and a large, broad nose peeking out into the air. Pale cheeks barely dusted by the pink of an almost intangible blush. His eyelashes were long and thick, jutting out against the purple hue of his impossibly dark circles. Hair the color of old driftwood swirled and bunched on his pillow. He had to have been one of the most attractive people you’d ever treated, let alone seen.

What color were his eyes? Were they a dark brown, one to match the nature of his hair color? Or were they green, contrasting his pale skin? You began to feel eager to find out, more excited to know and learn as your gloved hand gripped his broad shoulder. You frowned at the frigid temperature of his skin.

“Excuse me, sir,” You gently shook, trying not to give away the way your body was reacting. There was no place for hormonal displays in your line of work, and despite his undeniable beauty, you were determined to remain professional.

His eyelids snapped open with such a speed you had to compose yourself not to trip backwards. Contrary to what you thought, his irises were a pale, almost sickly greyish blue. They held no gleam; no life behind them. Disturbance washed over your brain, warning bells going off in your mind. He looks slightly… feral?

He jolted upwards, confusion knotted on his once peaceful face. You stumbled backwards slightly, hip clipping on the cart.

“Who are you?” His voice was gravelly, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Blue eyes stared at you with such an uncertainty it made your head spin.

“I’m your nurse, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion,” You gestured towards the cart and stand, a red bag hanging from it like a token of peace. Despite his prickly reaction, you weren’t frightened.

“I feel like I’ve met you before,” He said, eyes squinted. Analyzing you, trying to pick apart your being, yet there you stood before him, a marvel to be held. He briefly glanced to the side; not more than a millisecond were his eyes off you before they were back, filled with unadulterated panic. “Where- where is Historia?”

You frowned, a little perturbed. “She asked to swap-”

“I need you to leave, now.” He growled, voice deep and authoritative. You widened your gaze, taken aback by his demanding request. The sheet fell from around his shoulders, bare chest exposed. Large hands raced to his face, hiding the features you’d once considered beautiful. “Get out of here!”

“Are you alright?” You panicked, stepping closer to the bed. His large form began shaking, knees drawing towards his chest from under the blanket. He appeared to be in pain; like a wounded animal.

“Fuck,” He yelled, breathing becoming labored. There wasn’t time to ponder. Was he having a panic attack? Was he going into shock? Questions didn’t need to be asked, you just knew that you needed to act. “I said leave!”

“No, I need to help you with whatever-” His hand shot off of his face, long, black claws sharpening from his fingers. You became fear stricken, his palm connecting with your chest. It sent you stumbling backwards, tripping over the wire to the heart monitor and slamming into the wall with your back. Tendrils of pain clamored up your spine.

“Close your eyes,” He rose from the bed, both hands dropping from his face. You couldn’t see his eyes, fist clutching your scrubs above your heart. Uncertainty. Terror, facing death like this. A monster stood before you, created by the devil himself. Tall, foreboding, chest heaving. His neck snapped upwards; wide, red eyes piercing into your thinly veiled soul. He spoke something like a garbled beast. “Promise me you’ll close your eyes.”

You didn’t respond. There were no words to be spoken. Between his pink lips glinted a pair of large, sharp incisors. “Promise!”

You reverberated with his words, wincing and shutting your eyes involuntarily. He didn’t want you to watch as he slaughtered you. “I-I promise!”

The loud clamor of metal colliding with the polished floor had you breaking your promise mere seconds after it’d been made.

He stood, illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs like an angel ascending to heaven. The bag, once an object you’d believed to be a healing beacon, clutched between clawed hands. His teeth, bare to the world, puncturing the thick plastic as though it were paper.

His adam’s apple bobbed rhythmically as he swallowed mouthfuls of thick, red blood. It was as if he’d been starved; knees buckling and desperate blood sucking so intense that his legs could no longer support his body weight. He knelt on the once clean floor.

The twine that connected your sense of reality and rationale had been pulled taut -- pieces of the frayed string snapping and threatening to drop you into depths unknown. Uncertainty had always been a foreign concept; you’d been given the option to study your circumstance and fully conceptualize it before going head first into a situation.

That’s what had intrigued you about being a nurse; though the job seemed like a bull in a china shop, you’d learned every reason why or how that bull ended up there and what exactly you needed to do to get it out.

You lacked the expertise or even the understanding to handle this particular situation. What studying could’ve been done? Reading horror stories or watching Twilight as a teenager with your friends? Even then, the probability of this happening to you felt like it should’ve been a zero percent chance.

You liked knowing what to do. Thrived on it, actually. This man, tall and dangerous, presented you with no opportunity to know. There was no textbook on how to handle a vampire, as childish as it felt to recognize that that’s what this was.

You’d been so sure. So convinced that there was no possibility of this heinous monster being an actual thing to walk the same crusted earth as you. Yet here he was, dawning the shape of a man and the face of an angel. How could someone so beautiful be so terrifying?

The hospital wall was cold against your back, the distant hammering of an organ that no longer felt placed in your chest rang true against your clenched fist. You felt the chilling call to move, to rise from your place and run. You didn’t know where, but the muscles in your thighs screamed a silent symphony.

He made quick work of the bag, like it was nothing and had never been anything in the first place. Who had donated that blood? They were probably asleep somewhere, lying in a bed and dreaming of a different world. A world where their charitable donation wasn’t being consumed by a devil before your terrified soul.

The red liquid oozed from his lips and dripped onto his barren chest. You hadn’t moved since you’d collided with the wall what felt like an eternity ago. Your ears rung rapidly with the obnoxious blood flow to your overstimulated brain.

Eyes the shade of a blue jay traced from a pair of blood soaked claws up towards your face, following the path of destruction. Though shock and fear reverberated through your every nerve, the softness in his gaze dulled a small part of your terror. He looked guilty, holding his dripping hands in front of his face like he’d just committed murder.

“You promised to close your eyes,” A voice so small, as if he’d known you your whole life and you had just witnessed a character altering situation. Something echoed in the back of his words, something that sounded like resentment. You couldn’t tell if it was directed at your prying eyes or himself.

“I- I didn’t, I mean, I tried not to but,” You were at a loss. A loss for a way to communicate how you were feeling, a loss for sanity in the world. The monster before you scowled, as if scolding a child who’d disobeyed their parent. “What are you?”

He brought his bloody hands to the floor; you noted that the claws were gone. “I figure it’s pretty obvious at this point. Can’t you tell?” He whispered.

“But vampires aren’t-” His steely gaze hardened at your choice of words. “They aren’t real, are they?”

“They are,” He responded, looking at you with such a strong emotion that you shifted uncomfortably against the wall. What was he thinking? Those eyes looked like they were fixed on someone he cared deeply for, not someone he’d met mere minutes ago. “But you weren’t supposed to know that, which is why I asked you not to open your eyes.”

“You started drinking a bag of blood right in front of me!” You whisper-yelled, brows knitting together to display your slight frustration. The wonder and fear still laid active in your chest, but something about him was familiar and comforting, despite his gruesome actions. You couldn’t explain exactly why you knew he would bring you no harm. “Of course I was going to open my eyes. If I’m not supposed to know, why would you do that right in front of me?”

His scowl deepened. “I tried to warn you. I haven’t had any blood in awhile and I lost control of myself.”

“What happens now?” Your question came out smaller than intended, unfamiliarity rising in your abdomen. The thick stench of blood was beginning to make your intestines twist in disgusting unease.

The question sought to strike a chord in the young man’s features; a grim and saddened look swept across his sharp attributes. His hand came up to pinch his temples, unperturbed by the bloody fingerprints left in its wake. “We have to get out of here, and fast. If we don’t, the people who are after me will kill you.”

“Kill me?” The word had a different sense of fear wafting over you; the kind that pricked your eyes with the sensation to shed tears. He looked pained. “I can tell them that I didn’t see anything, I can promise that I never saw you and-”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He snapped, glancing at you with irritation. His harsh tone forced your pleas to die unsaid in your throat. “The people following me aren’t rational. One of them will also be able to tell you’re lying.”

“So then, what am I supposed to do?” You cried, allowing the bottled up and suppressed emotions to spill over the thin wall of resolve that his comforting presence provided. He didn’t flinch but remained in serious tranquility. “I’m supposed to leave here and hit the road with some random man, who is a fucking vampire, and what? Hope for the best?”

He looked away from you, blood-covered face staring at the hospital bed that he’d once occupied. “It’s my fault you’re stuck in this now. I owe you enough to protect your life as best as I can.”

You were in hysterics. What sort of ultimatum was this? Stay and die or leave and risk dying? Another predicament that couldn’t be solved with the aid of literary education. Resentment was beginning to build in your own chest. Diving into an unexplored depth of the ocean, brimming with creatures and lore that you had never predicted to be real.

“Hey,” You snapped back to reality. The man before you scooted forwards slightly. Though his face was that of a devil, soaked in another’s blood and deathly pale, his movement had your chest tightening in something other than fear. “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise, if you come with me, you’ll be safe until I can get them off our tail. Then I’ll take off and they’ll follow me, leaving you alone.”

Sticky tears trailed down your cheeks, eyes burning. When did you start crying? “How -- how can you be so sure? How can I trust you?”

He was on his hands and knees in front of you now, sharp nose half a foot away from your face. Any call to breathe was put on hold, teary eyes widening slightly at his stare. It was soft and open, trusting in the strangest way. His dark hair hung around his face.

“My goal is to rid the world of demons such as myself. That’s why they’re after me, and why they would take your life to guarantee silence. When I’m finished with what I want to accomplish, I will be dead and so will they. I have nothing to gain by hurting you. I promise to keep you alive long enough to see the end of this.”

Your lips parted in awe. The conviction in his tone was that to lead an entire army into battle; to create religions and cult followings. Blessed be the demon who wished to take down his own kind.

You had spent years convincing yourself to trust in what others told you to follow. Self-intuition wasn’t enough to breed a successful nurse; you needed the expertise of studies and procedures done before you. You required the necessary tools that others had used and approved of. Your heart’s certainty had no place in medicine. It had no place in the tried and true.

The man slowly rose one freezing hand towards your face, apprehensively watching for your reaction. You sat unmoving, owl-eyed. His palm caressed your chin, cold thumb swiping the tear from your cheek, smearing blood in its wake. “Find it in your heart to trust me.”

The conviction of his words rang lightning through your veins, mouth speaking without precedented thought. “Okay.”

He rose from his crouched position, offering a red hand to help you up from against the wall. You shook your head. There had been enough blood sharing for the evening, sanitation crossing your mind as you shakily slid along the rough plaster, bracing yourself to display a toughness that you weren’t sure you contained.

The rule of thumb not to trust those whom you don’t know played a soft melody in your heart. Mothers’ warnings and fathers’ lectures. Apparently all you had been told fell upon deaf ears, clouded with the hazy judgement of a life threatening situation. But in circumstances such as these, did the general rule apply? You were left to ponder.

“Hey, wait,” You frowned, a dumbfounded feeling crossing your mind as the man stepped towards the opposite side of the room. He stopped and turned, sharp jaw jutting against his mane. “What even is your name?”

“Oh,” He turned back towards the other side of the room. You didn’t follow. The door was the opposite direction, so whatever business he had over there did not concern you. “It’s Eren. And you?”

You felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks at the confession of his name. It was beautiful, feeling somehow appropriate for his physical appearance. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah,” He responded, as if he already knew. You scoffed inwardly at his tone, still anxiously pressed against the wall. His blood stained hand rose to the latch on the window, attempting to open it.

“Why are you opening the window?” You questioned, noticing a beep from out in the hallway. The door stood open, allowing passersby to witness the blood on the floor and your cheek, as well as this man called Eren, who appeared straight out of a horror movie.

Closing the wooden door meant deciding with certainty to trust him; to follow him and hope that whatever tales of murderous vampires he’d shared had been truthful. To step away from the knowledge and the comfort of your current life. It implied that no one would see you in there with him and come to your rescue.

They will kill you.

Your hand gently clicked the heavy door into its place.

Turning back to Eren, you noticed his hand wrapped around the latch to the window. He was frozen in place, watching you make your final choice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You reiterated. Eren turned back towards the glass. His reflection wavered slightly in the shine.

“This is how we’re getting out of here,” Eren responded, pulling the latch and shoving the window open as far as it would go. It stopped at about two inches, for safety reasons.

Disbelief once again danced across your mind, pulling you into what was beginning to feel like a new equilibrium. “If you’re planning to leap out of that window, it only opens that far.”

He ignored you, bringing his bloodied palms up against the glass. It appeared as though he merely shoved it; so light that it shouldn’t have budged. It shouldn’t have moved at all. The heavy window snapped at its industrialized hinges, pummeling down towards the ground below.

He glanced at you from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised semi-smugly. You gawked back; simultaneously impressed by his strength as well as put off. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll die if I jump from here,” You scoffed, still not moving from your place. Eren stared back emotionlessly. He stepped towards the bed, reaching beneath it and pulling out what appeared to be a black hooded jacket.

He swung it over his shoulders, pulling the hood above his head. “I know. If you ride on my back, you won’t die.”

“Are you always this mundanely serious about fucking supernatural shit like this?” You spat. There was a warmth beginning to settle in your face as well as your core; heated by the idea of being so close to him.

“Yes,” He retorted, walking towards you so quickly you thought your head would start spinning. “No time to waste with your endless questions.”

He reached down, abruptly swooping you up from behind your thighs, effectively gripping you bridal style.

“Eren, put me down. Put me down!” You started squirming as he thundered towards the open window. You hated heights as much as the next person; they were fine in retrospect, but made you dizzy when in close proximity. Eren seemed unbothered by your quiet cries of protest.

“Eren, I swear to god,” You brought your fist to his broad chest. He ignored you, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Against any better judgement you still retained, your eyes glanced towards the drop. Your stomach sank, becoming a heavy boulder in the bottom of your abdomen. “Fuck, put me down!”

He stared down at you. A gaze so tranquil that the rest of the scene seemed to fade away. You became hyper-aware of his bare chest which you were pressed against; that unfamiliar churning in your core spreading towards your limbs.

“Hold still, or I’ll drop you.”

☤ ☤ ☤

next chapter >>

tagging: @sunshinedragonofthewest @ryukatters

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #Eren Jaeger #eren yeager #vampire eren #eren jeager #Eren Yaeger #eren jaeger smut #bloodlust series #emmy writes #eren jaeger x y/n

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

The Cold Offends Me

PART OF THE VIPER & THE WILD THING COLLECTION

A/N: Until like three days ago I had no plans to ever write for Oberyn Martell. But we all know what happens to plans whether you make them or not so here we are. (also, at least 45% of the blame for this is on @something-tofightfor who relentlessly bombarded me with Oberyn gifs one night until I had no choice but to start daydreaming.) Anyway! This will not be a chapter series that follows a plot as much as it will be a collection of related one-shots. I have two more that are brewing on the back burner, but for the most part, this “series” is entirely open to requests and prompts, so if there is anything you’d like to see from this pairing, please feel free to visit my inbox!

Warning: sex, mention of non-consensual sex, language. THIS IS A SMUT if you are a youngin’ please click away.

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Though you work in one of the nicer brothels in King’s Landing- it could be worse!- your life is not at all what you would have chosen for yourself. What happens when a request for warmth turns into an offer for much more?

Seven fucking hells.

From your place amongst the pillows, you watched the taught, sinewy muscles of his back and shoulders move as he leaned over to set his goblet down. A slight sheen of sweat clung to his body, the light from at least a dozen candles making him look even more like a statue carved from bronze or gold than a man made of blood and bone than he already did, and you couldn’t help the satisfied smile that crept over your lips knowing you had been the one to slick his skin that way. Glancing down at your chest though you saw that he had done the same to you, your soft flesh damp and shimmering in the flickering light. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a laugh from slipping out. It has been a while since the last time anyone’s…

The sound of the silver cup making contact with the wooden table beside the bed cut your thoughts short as he turned back towards you. You had just enough time to see the darkness in his eyes ignite before his hands were clutching the sides of your face, fingers pushing through your hair as he pulled you into a kiss. He didn’t hold back a throaty sigh as he let you sample the sweet wine still coating his tongue. That’s not all that I taste. You grinned around the thought, a wave of warmth rolling through your belly as he flicked his tongue inside your mouth as though reminding you how that same motion felt when he had done it earlier, between your legs. A small moan made it passed your lips and beyond his as he dropped his lower half down over your hips.

Gods, why can’t they all be like this?

You had slept with highborn men before, but once they shed their fancy robes and embroidered silks they looked and felt the same as the common swine you regularly serviced, the only real difference being the smell. And not always. Some things even rosewater couldn’t help. This one though, he smelled of spice and citrus and something else you couldn’t quite place. Something enticing. Everything about him was enticing.

It almost felt wrong, wanting him to touch you, to use up his body and yours until there was nothing left of either of you. In all the years you’d lived and worked there you couldn’t recall ever feeling anything but forced, false enthusiasm, your cheeks aching from all the strung up smiles. You couldn’t recall a single encounter in which you had chosen to stay mentally present for the duration. Yet since the Red Viper had arrived in King’s Landing a few days prior, you had made it your goal to commit every second spent with him coiled around you to memory, even if it meant sharing him with others. Words flew more swiftly than sparrows in the city, so you had already heard that the Prince and his entourage would be staying for roughly a month, a few weeks on either side of that rat Joffery’s wedding. You knew that if he continued to frequent the establishment as he had been, you’d have plenty of chances to work on that commitment.

But if you were being honest with yourself, which you rarely were since lying made things more bearable in your line of work, you knew that it could never be enough. He’d fucked you three times already that night, and each time had been different, the man never repeating the same touch, changing his speed and pressure, using his teeth and tongue in bold ways that made you feel as though he was experimenting, using your body as a medium for his art. While you were more than willing to be both muse and material for him, you were less willing to think about what would happen when he left the wretched city. For as much opulence as there seemed to be an abundance of, King’s Landing, seven hells, all of Westeros didn’t have a single artisan who could compare to Oberyn Martell in this and likely many other regards.

If he was going to be the first and only man who made you feel alive, like your desires mattered, like your body was in fact your own, then you wanted to make the most of it. Taking the waistband of his trousers in your hands, the material bunched tightly, you pulled him even closer, simultaneously grinding your hips up, fitting them against his like precisely placed pieces of a puzzle.

“You don’t need to be shy with me,” he had told you and the others that he and Ellaria had chosen on their first visit. “We are all here for the same thing. So if you want something,” he had his right arm wrapped around the slender torso of his paramour, palming one of her supple breasts as he spoke. She nuzzled into his side but kept her eyes on you, watching as he reached to take you by the chin with his left hand, pulling you close enough to kiss but stopping with barely enough space between his lips and yours for air to pass between you. You gasped, chest heaving as he smiled salaciously down at you. “Take it.”

That’s what you were doing now, taking what you wanted.

He finally broke the kiss, but only to nudge your jaw with his nose, one hand moving your hair out of his way so that he could continue teasing you with the things his tongue could do. You slid your palms over his back, fingers finding the raised ridge of a long since healed scar midway down the right side of his spine. He had a few of them, but they were all old and faded, hard to find with your eyes, easy to feel as you touched him though. A jagged line like a bolt of lightning topped his right shoulder, a stippled round patch marked the outside of his left thigh, and there was a pair of red dots near his left wrist that looked like it had been left behind by a snakebite. All proof of how vividly he lived his life, unafraid of pain or danger, accepting and seeking out every challenge he could find, never compromising until he had squeezed every ounce of juice from each experience he had.

You would let him squeeze you down to the pulp, gladly giving yourself to someone who actually appreciated the act. Someone who seemed to savor you and not just where inside your body you’d allow him. For Oberyn, there were no limits on your body.

“Had I known there were precious treasures like you hidden up here in the North,” he purred into the crook of your neck as one hand followed its own agenda, roaming your rib cage, the other still stroking softly through your hair. “I would have made the trip much sooner, if only just to have you once.” Fuck. You didn’t doubt him, and that made it even more agonizing to hear. “You are not at all like any Northerner I’ve known.”

You bit your bottom lip and let out a small breathy laugh. “True Northerners would be offended to hear you say that, you know. To them, we’re all Southerners.”

Oberyn blew a puff of air through his lips. “And the cold offends me. I do not care if I offend the lords of ice and snow.” His attention was drawn to the circles he was tracing over your sternum with one bejeweled finger. “They are all so stiff. So frigid.” He flattened his palm over the area he’d just been focused on, deep brown eyes lifting to seek out yours. “Not like you.”

“I am a whore, my prince,” you reminded him of your place playfully, combing your fingers through the crown of silvery strands that struck through the dark locks near his hairline. “I am paid to be warm.”

“Is that so?” That menacing glint was back in his grin and you understood why he was associated with the viper, the predator striking with lightning speed and deadly venom just as he was now. One hand traveled down your body to tease the crease where your thigh met your hip, and you gasped involuntarily at the contact. “Then why are you so warm when I have not yet handed over a single gold coin?” He dragged his fingers down between your legs. His eyes narrowed, lips dropping open as he slipped one digit into you, seemingly enjoying the breathless sounds you made.

Gods, he’s going to kill me.

He didn’t wait for your answer, perhaps knowing already that you didn’t have one. Instead he touched his forehead to yours, his hair damp against your scalp. “Stay with me tonight.” It wasn’t an order or a demand, simply a confident request, one he had surely never been denied. “Keep me warm.” Adding a second finger, he swirled them in a slow circle and watched you writhe under his touch. “I miss the heat of the sun in Dorne.” Curling his pointer and middle fingers slowly, he went on. “I miss the beauty of the water gardens at Sunspear. But you,” he pulled his fingers from your body then, your hips lurching up to follow his hand. “You have the sun in you.”

You felt completely helpless as you let out a whine at the sight of him licking clean the fingers he’d just had inside of you, the flutter of his eyelashes as he tasted you the only indication that he was even remotely close to cracking the same way that you were. “The sun?” You hummed as his touch returned, his other hand skimming across your skin. I hardly see the sun unless it’s through a shuttered window. “If you feel the sun when you’re with me my Prince, I can assure you it’s your doing.”

You knew it was the truth and he didn’t argue with you.

“Whatever the reason,” he assured you, “l have not been so warm since arriving in this pit of a city, and tonight I don’t want to be cold. Stay with me.”

Your heart slammed inside your chest as he made the request again, your throat tightening with how badly you wanted to say yes. Swallowing, you took a breath and steeled yourself to try to steer him away from the idea. A whole night of this… of him it’s too much. It will be too hard to... Shaking your head, you wet your lips and stretched them into a smile. “I’m sure you’re already sorely missed by someone else, my Prince. Someone who could keep you just as warm I’m sure.”

You hadn’t been with Ellaria in any meaningful sense of the word- yes, you both had been present on their first day in King’s Landing, but she was preoccupied with some of the other girls while you and one of the young men spent time with Oberyn. But you didn’t need to have been with the woman to know what she was capable of, her ravenous appetite flashing in her eyes with the same intensity that you’d seen in the Prince’s. I’m sure she is-

“We are not each other’s property, Ellaria and I.” He crushed your thoughts, touch roaming your torso, grasping at your flesh to punctuate his words with physical meaning. “We don’t put limitations on what we allow ourselves to do when it comes to pleasure.” You fought to suppress a whimper as you felt his tongue and then his teeth nip at the juncture of your throat and shoulder. All of a sudden you felt him flip you around so your back was to him, his deft hands finding your waist and spinning you with ease. “We deny each other nothing when it comes to our desires.” Sliding both hands up to your chest, he gave a deliberate squeeze and rolled his hips into yours from behind you, pulling you backwards to eliminate any empty space that remained. “Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“Yes,” the word came out in a breathy sigh, and you weren’t sure if you were answering him or reacting to the way that he was making you feel.

“No.” He said it firmly but his tone had a hint of excitement. “No, I don’t think that you do.” He let one hand travel down your body to the apex of your thighs, his rings cool against your stomach, the smooth links of the chains and pendants he wore pressing into your back as you gasped. “But I’m going to make you understand.”

— — — —

Some time later, after you’d acquiesced to his plea to join him through the entire night, the two of you lay draped over one another, spent but still soaking up as much contact as you could. He hadn’t taken his hands off of you for longer than it took to pour from the decanter of wine or reach for the washcloth in the basin next to the bed. He’d hardly taken his eyes off of you either, scanning every last bit of you. You were surprised when he started talking, asking you personal questions that had nothing to do with your body or his or what he wanted to do with and to and for you.

“Where are you from then, if not the North?” His eyebrows came together in genuine curiosity as he asked the question. He didn’t look away from your collarbone as he waited for your response, watching his own thumb run along the ridge of it as though he were trying to memorize the place where it dipped into your throat.

You hummed, unable to remember the last time you actually enjoyed being with one of your clients. But he’s not at all like them. No man you ever had the misfortune of having to fuck had ever asked you what your name was or where you were from or what you wanted from them. They were soldiers and sailors, gutter rats who knew you were one of them without having to ask. “I’m from right here,” you responded, combing your fingers through his hair before catching his earlobe and tugging to urge his mouth down to yours.

He kissed you- gods, he kissed you like he intended to take you apart all over again using only his tongue- then pulled back and let his exploratory touch begin charting the valley of your chest. “Right here?” He asked, and you closed your eyes as you felt his warm breath hitting the skin he’d just been tracing. “King’s Landing, you mean?”

Warmth pierced your abdomen as he dropped his lips to your body and you sucked in a breath. “Yes,” you answered, sounding every bit as desperate and dizzy as he was making you feel. You clenched a fistful of his hair, and the small rumble of a groan vibrated against your ribs before he dragged his lips towards one breast without lifting them away, licking at the goosebumps he was raising along his path. But that’s not really what I meant. “King’s Landing, yes, but-”

He picked his head up then, resting his chin in the center of your chest, his meticulously groomed beard softer than you thought it would be as it brushed your flesh. “But?” He dropped his lips teasingly to your body, eyes still on you as he dared you to continue your sentence.

He did ask. Since it was the first time anyone had, you figured you owed him a complete answer. “But I meant here,” you let your eyes roll around the room, at the windows draped in colorful fabrics, the tables laden with wine and exotic fruits, the walls, made to look like the building was a palace instead of the prison it had become. “Here, this brothel.”

You tried to slip your other hand into his hair to join the first as you let your gaze fall back to him, but he caught your wrist and stopped you, reaching up to circle his long fingers around your other wrist as well. “What?” He moved back up the bed then to settle beside you, still holding your wrists.

The sweep and press of his thumb over your pulse made you suck in a breath, and as you looked over at him, you saw a look of confusion and concern in his eyes. This isn’t what you pay for, Oberyn. Why are you doing this? You shook your head and tried for one of your practiced smiles. “This is my home. It’s where I…grew up. I was born here. My mother was a…”

“A whore?” He supplied the word but didn’t fill it with the disdain and judgement that most did when they spat your title at you as a reminder of your place in the world. You knew that he didn’t put such meaning into words like whore or bastard. One was a profession, the other a term for a child born of passion, and in his eyes, in the eyes of the Dornish people, those things were not filth to be hidden or ashamed of. With the surname Waters, you fell into both categories. He let go of your far wrist, letting that hand drop to your bare stomach, but his thumb continued to run up and down over the veins of the one he still held.

You nodded. “Yes. As soon as I was old enough, I worked in the kitchens, scrubbing dishes, cleaning bedding.” You watched his chest rise and fall as you spoke but felt his sharp eyes on your face. “When my mother became too… old to do her job, it became my responsibility to earn our keep. Now that it's just me I…” You shrugged. He asked, you reminded yourself again. “Well, I have no other… no skills or-”

“You didn’t choose this?” He lifted the hand he had on your stomach to push a piece of hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing the outer helix and drifting down to the tender skin just beneath it. “You… wouldn’t choose this?”

Despite the honesty in his question, the tingling sensation that his touch sent through your bones and the way he was looking at you, you had to laugh. “No,” you shook your head. “Some girls,” gesturing with one hand you twirled it and arched an eyebrow, “some boys? Some of them choose this. But I… was born into it.”

You didn’t know what you expected to see on his face when you looked back up at him, but it certainly hadn’t been anger. Oh, I shouldn’t have- “That is unacceptable.” What? Before you could ask him to elaborate or try to de-escalate the conversation, turn it back towards pleasure like you’d been taught to, he had your face between his hands, your eyes locked with his. “Pleasure should not come at the cost of anyone’s freedom. You shouldn’t have to-” His nostrils flared slightly then and he took a breath through his nose, eyes falling closed briefly before opening again. “Come back to Dorne with Ellaria and I. Let me take you from here.”

The thought of it was too good to entertain, too tempting to take seriously, and it made it too hard to breathe. You were property of Lord Petyr Baelish, it wasn’t that simple. Blinking away the shock of his request, you again tried to lighten things with a smile. “So I can be your pet down in Sunspear?”

“No.” He leaned in and kissed you then, his top lip curling against yours before you felt his grip move to the back of your head and the side of your neck. “I would never put you in a cage like a pet,” he murmured into your mouth. “You are a wild thing. And if you came back with me,” he rubbed the tip of his nose along yours. “You could run as wild as you wanted. Completely untethered.”

“No one is completely free in Westeros.” You couldn’t help the slight sadness from entering your tone as you told him the truth about your home.

“They are in Dorne,” he promised.

“And if I came to Dorne,” you mused, playing with the still open drawstring of his trousers, “would I be confined to the water gardens? What would you require of me?”

“Nothing.” He answered with a shake of his head. “Wild spirits cannot be tamed. When they are, they turn sad, resentful. They grow bitter. They die.” Staring into your eyes, you felt the earnest truth in his words. “I would only hope that with your freedom you would choose to return to me.”

If there was a free soul in existence who wouldn’t return to him, they were out of their minds.

“I would return to you as often as you’d have me.” Your breathless response came quicker than you would have liked, but what he was offering you was so tempting even your cautious attempts at reigning in your enthusiasm weren’t enough and you cursed yourself for it. “But what about…” you let out a breath and waved a hand around the room. “What about Lord Baelish? What about-“

“I told you already,” he brought a finger up and laid it on top of your still swollen, wine stained lips. “I take what I want. And what I want is to see you as free as you were meant to be.” He leaned in to press his lips to yours, his finger still stuck between. “So you leave that to me, Wild one. Now,” he brought his hand down to wrap around your wrist, pulling you into the bend in his arm. “Show me how you stay warm up here in the North.”

THANK YOU FOR READING! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tag list please feel free to let me know. And like I said up top: if you have any requests or ideas that you would like to see for these two, send an ask and I will see what I can do!

tags: @something-tofightfor @gollyderek @pheedraws @valkblue @alraedesigns @beefcakebarnes

#oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #pedrostories #oberyn martell fanfic #pedro pascal characters #the viper & the wild thing #TV&TWT #the cold offends me #oberyn martell #game of thrones #got fanfic #got fanfiction #the red viper #smut #its a smut #how could i not kick it off with a smut for the prince of passion?

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