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kpopfanfictrash · 7 months

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Elemental (M) Pt. 1

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Second Chance Romance / Modern Fantasy

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader (she/her)

Synopsis: Fear has never been a foreign concept to you. Your entire life has been shaped by the knowledge that you’re different, and fear of the stigma which might follow discovery. Although fire, earth, air and water Elementals have been public for decades, the fear-mongering around your kind hasn’t changed; something you have intimate knowledge of, having experienced it firsthand. Since then, you’ve done your best to hide your water powers. This is for your own safety, as your mom likes to say.

Safety flies out the window though, when you fall in love. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just any love, either, he’s the love. The person who makes you feel as though your darkest corners deserve to be seen. Unable to control your magic around him, you find yourself faced with a horrible fact: you need to break up.

A plan which proves difficult when Jungkook simply refuses to go. And maybe, just maybe, you find the constraints placed on yourself don’t make sense anymore.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: death of a parent (past), some emotional abuse

NSFW Warnings: oral (woman and man), multiple orgasms (woman), fingering, hand job, face-riding, sex outdoors (in a secluded, private area), very slight ass-play, breast play

Word Count: 17,287 (32,487 total)

Author's Note: Unfortunately, the new Tumblr text editor doesn't allow for more than 1,000 paragraphs per post. Part I is here, and Part II will be uploaded shortly. Please, please, please reblog both if possible! In my experience, engagement tends to be worse when split into two parts. (also, if you haven't already realized based on the premise, Y/N does break up with Jungkook in the first part of this fic lol so, if that's something you don't want to read; fair warning!)

[ Cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

Magic, to you, has never been a boon.

Despite its romanticization in movies and stories, the reality of magic is messy and unpredictable. As dangerous as it can be fickle, your mom likes to say. Usually followed by a glance in your direction, swift enough for you not to notice, although you always do.

Either that, or an unconscious tilt her chin towards the photograph on the mantle. You aren’t sure she even realizes she does it, acting on instinct alone. The photo is of your dad, holding you on his shoulders with an ear-to-ear grin. He was the other Elemental in your family.

Even with only one magical parent, the Elemental gene tends to be passed on to children. Your dad’s magic was water, skilled in manipulating and calling forth the element. He was lauded for it, which was in itself unusual. More often, Elementals are run out of town by other humans. Although time has gone by since societal integration, there are still many who view your kind with suspicion.

You can’t say that you blame them – not really. Because again, the reality of magic is it can be dangerous. Based on experience, bad things tend to happen when you lose control.

Head tilted, you squint through the fog at your boyfriend’s apartment. For centuries, fog has been heralded as an ill omen and maybe there’s some degree of truth to it. Maybe the first speaker lived near a temperamental water Elemental, unable to keep their emotions from manipulating the weather.

Thoughts souring at how close to reality this feels, you shake your head once and some of the fog clears.

A pep talk, you think. That’s what you need to convince yourself to enter. Unseasonably chilly this late in the summer, your fingers curl into the ends of your sweater. Going inside would be preferrable to standing out in the cold, and yet you can’t manage a single step.

Better to stand in the cold than enter and shatter.

Again, you remind yourself you’re doing the right thing and again, this doesn’t help. If anything, it makes you clutch your sweater tighter. For once, you wish doing the right thing meant what’s right for you. Exhaling deeply, your eyes shut as a train passes and shakes the ground.

You began dating Jungkook three months ago and within a week, you knew it was different. You have a tendency to hide pieces of yourself, knowing most people won’t like what they find. Jungkook never allowed that to happen. The first time you ghosted, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop the next morning and asked what had gone wrong. Taken aback, you responded honestly and to your surprise, Jungkook listened.

He stayed. Stayed when others had run, cementing himself on a short list of people you can trust. Three months into dating, things have moved at once fast and slow. Fast because typically, you exit relationships long before feelings like these ones develop. Slow, because you haven’t given Jungkook every part of yourself.

Physical intimacy comes to mind. On several occasions, this has proved… difficult.

Eyes opening, you stare at the door. Memories of last night rise to the surface. For a long time, you’ve known this relationship has an end date. Knowing this doesn’t prepare you for the difficult conversation ahead.

The last time you saw Jungkook was after midnight. Fat raindrops chased your footsteps while you ran from his place, descending the subway at a record pace. The look on his face remains stuck in your mind and even now, you find the thought hard to revisit.

Imagining hurting Jungkook again is unfathomable. Stifling a gasp, you spin on your heel and march away. Halfway to the gate, you get a grip on yourself. Coming to a stop, you remind yourself this isn’t about you. Jungkook will hate you – there’s nothing to do about that now. Now, this is about Jungkook and ensuring he’s safe.

Slowly, you turn around and make your way forward. In the name of procrastination, you stop at a trash can to clean out your purse. Old receipts, gum wrappers and a crumpled-up napkin shake into the bin. You pause at the napkin, staring at the embossed name of the restaurant you work at. Or – more accurately – worked at.

Slamming the trash lid, you turn. You began work at Pierre’s Bistro two months ago as a temporary measure. Ideally, you paint but lately, inspiration has run dry. Waiting tables pays the bills, leaving time at the end of the day to stare at a blank canvas.

Pierre’s is an upscale French restaurant a few blocks down with semi-decent food and waiting tables would be fine if the owner – Pierre – weren’t a massive asshole. Now that you don’t work there, you can be honest about that. Pierre was the most sexist, elitist, capitalistic piece of shit you’ve ever had the displeasure of working for. While on his payroll, you tried to make the best of it but now, you have nothing to lose. Pierre was a dick.

A point he proved yet again last night, much to your mortification. You prefer working the lunch shift to dinner, and weekdays to weekends. Saturday nights are worst of all, and last night Pierre didn’t arrive until well after six. You were forced to cover the entire front section, picking up for a co-worker who called in sick.

Rushing from the bar, you nearly crashed into your boss removing his coat. Grabbing you by the elbow, Pierre steadied you, his hand lingering.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” he joked.

You forced a smile. Experience has taught you the best thing to do in those types of situations is to smile and laugh.

“No fire. Lots of customers! Excuse me,” you said and tried to move past.

Pierre didn’t release you. If anything, his grip on you tightened until you turned your head.

“Yes?” you said, impatient.

Pierre didn’t respond, looking you slowly up and down. Eventually, he released you to take a step backwards. “Nothing,” he said carefully. “Be careful out there tonight.”

Trying not to gag on his words, you moved on. Unfortunately, it was hard to escape Pierre’s notice once caught. From that point on, each of your flaws were held under a microscope. First, it was that you didn’t fold the napkins correctly. Next, you took a wandering path from kitchen to table. Each time you entered the dining room, scornful words were covered by simpering smiles.

By the time your shift end approached, you could barely keep going. A large group had entered and, seeing the host occupied, you took it upon yourself to seat them at your last table. Fixing your apron, you hurried through the restaurant and into the kitchen.

Grabbing another table’s dishes, you thanked the cook and pushed open the door. Immediately, arms shoved you back in. Startled, you barely had time to recognize the host, Vanessa, before the doors swung shut.

“Vanessa?” you said, adjusting your grip. “What’s going on?”

Harried, she glanced over one shoulder. “Sorry,” she sighed, curly hair slipping from her messy bun. “I wanted to warn you before you went back out. Pierre is pissed.”

Your stomach sank. “Pissed… at me?”

She nodded, another dark curl escaping. “Something about saving the table up front for his friends? Bullshit, yes,” she said at your expression. “But you know how he is.”

“Yeah, I know,” you muttered. Deciding there was nothing to be done but keep moving, you hefted your plates higher. “Okay, thanks for the warning. I need to get these to table ten.”

“No problem,” she said and stepped out of your way.

You walked inside with slightly less spring in your step. Pierre lounged near the bar, surrounded by a group of people you could only assume to be friends. Although you felt his gaze on your face, you avoided him the best you could while you made your rounds. Taking the long way to the kitchen, you passed in front of the window.

Which was the moment you noticed Jungkook waiting for you on the curb. He stood beneath a streetlight, light pooling around the ends of his dark hair. When he saw you approach, his face lit up and he smiled.

Cursing beneath your breath, you smiled back. You were supposed to be done a half-hour ago, but there hadn’t been a good time yet to stop. Waving back, you mouthed, just a minute, and frantically pushed through the crowd to the back.

Merely seeing his face lifted a weight from your chest. It was easy to be around Jungkook because he liked every part of you. You never felt the urge to pretend, to curve yourself into something someone else would find pleasurable.

Well, he liked every part except one – and you were working on telling him that.

Hurrying into the staff room, you forgot your plan to avoid Pierre. You nearly jumped a mile when a hand grabbed your elbow, spinning you to face your fuming manager.

Pierre stared down his nose. “Follow me,” he snapped, releasing your arm to spin around.

He passed tables full of patrons, leading you to the bar before turning. “Y/N,” Pierre said, his voice dropping. “Are things okay tonight?”

“Yes,” you responded, deciding one-word answers were safest.

“Then why, exactly, are you fucking this up?”

Your jaw tensed. “I wasn’t aware I was doing so,” you said carefully.

“The napkins?” Pierre made a tsk-ing sound. “How many times should I say that presentation is important? Not to mention your laziness. One of your tables had to flag me down to ask for a refill. And now, you gave away the front table.” His expression darkened. “What makes you think you, a fucking waitress, can step in for a host? You sat someone at the table I personally reserved for my friends!”

You shouldn’t have responded. You should have stayed quiet and yet –

“There was no name in the book,” you muttered.

“What’s that?” Pierre waited and, when you stayed silent, shook his head. “I hadn’t had time to write their name down, but I told Vanessa, who assured me it’d happen. Of course, she wasn’t taking into consideration Y/N, the wonder waitress! Taking everyone’s jobs and making them harder.”

At your sides, your hands balled into fists. It took a greater amount of concentration than normal to keep your emotions from spilling over.

Of course, there were explanations for Pierre’s accusations. The napkins were correct before he jostled the table. You had been circulating your tables and if you were unavailable, it was because of his poor staffing. Oh, and – he didn’t make a reservation for his friends.

Slowly, you exhaled and stuffed down the responses. Deep down, with other emotions and magic. Beyond Pierre, a glass trembled but once you relaxed, the water went still.

“I apologize,” you said, not meeting his gaze. “I’ll do better next time.”

Pierre sniffed. “See that you do,” he said, brushing past. Grabbing a beer from the bar, you heard his friends burst into raucous laughter. Apparently, your humiliation was entertaining.

Heaving a small sigh, you turned – and froze where you stood.

Outside, Jungkook stared into the restaurant with murderous eyes. Too late, you realized Pierre had pulled you in front of the window. Away from anyone dining, but in full view of anyone on the sidewalk. Like your boyfriend, who witnessed the entire spectacle.

For a moment, your emotions overwhelmed, and you felt magic crack the walls you kept hidden. Embarrassment crept past your boundaries. Humiliation. Fury. Stuffing everything back, you quickly turned to rush through the tables.

Jungkook’s gaze snapped towards you, his brow furrowing. Reaching the staff room, you paced up and down. Jungkook saw you. He saw Pierre’s outburst, which meant you’d have to explain. You’d have to explain to Jungkook – the only person whose opinion you cared about – why you allowed other people to walk all over you.

He’d start to ask questions. Questions like, when was the last time you really got mad? You’d have no good response. Not because you don’t get mad, because you do. But because you don’t ever allow yourself to act on the feeling.

Faced with the prospect of brushing him off, you buried your face in both hands. Your usual excuses wore thin in your ears.

Pierre isn’t so bad. It was a one-time thing. You promise you’ll talk to Pierre tomorrow.

None of it would be true, and you didn’t want to lie to Jungkook. People never understood why you wouldn’t stand up for yourself, but the answer was complicated.

Your last date said you lacked emotions, but you don’t think that’s it. Of course, you have feelings, but those feelings are buried beneath so many layers, they can be hard to see. It’s not that you don’t feel, it’s that you cannot.

When you feel, your magic reacts, and people get hurt.

That was the last part of yourself you kept hidden. Jungkook is normal and he doesn’t know you’re an Elemental.

You know that by now, you should have said something. Obviously, but the timing was never right. Twenty-five years old, and you still aren’t sure how to broach the conversation. Few people know what you are, so you haven’t had much experience with the explanation. Your magic isn’t something you use if you can help it.

Yet another lesson you learned from your mom.

Your dad, an Elemental, died when you were five. Before, you lived near the ocean on a flat strip of sand. Your memories from before then are faint, but whenever you try, you can hear his booming laugh. Can feel the salt sting your cheeks, your mom tossing you in the air while you spun around.

Everything afterwards faded. At five years old, a hurricane swept past the barrier islands and that, you remember. You recall your mom at the door, pleading with your dad not to go as he donned his jacket. You remember him holding her hand, kissing the top of your head, and saying he’d return soon. Not many Elementals lived in your area, and even fewer had water magic.

You recall the hours passing, stretching longer and longer until dawn approached. Flashing lights followed, a woman climbing from her car to speak to your mom. You recall the sound of your mom sobbing, the policewoman’s voice floating into the house.

The storm surge was stronger than expected, but your dad managed to divert the worst. He saved the town only to be hit by a bolt of lightning. Instant death, the policewoman said, her tone implying this might be a comfort. Chest tight, your fingertips dug into the railing. Comfort meant nothing when your dad was gone. The irony struck you even back then – your dad saved others, and no one came to save him.

For weeks following, your mom was a ghost. At first, neighbors stopped by to drop off casseroles and condolences. Soon though, their sympathy stopped, and the whispers began. You were young enough not to notice, too consumed by the enormity of your own loss.

Eventually though, you noticed something was off. Suspicious eyes followed you down the sidewalk. Mothers clutched at their children, hurrying them to the side of an empty street. One day, you traipsed downstairs and overheard your mom on the phone.

She sat at the kitchen table, facing away from the staircase. You paused on the landing, listening to your aunt’s voice blast on speakerphone.

“Nonsense,” she was saying. “Your husband was a hero, and anyone saying otherwise is cracked. He saved your town!”

“I know.” Your mom blew her nose. “But now, people are wondering if he caused the storm. They’re saying maybe he… made the hurricane. It’s this new mayor,” she said, frustrated. “He hates Elementals and keeps insisting our family orchestrated this to collect money. He says –”

“Oh, no.” Your aunt sounded furious. “Don’t you repeat a single word that hateful man says.”

“He has a point, though,” your mom said, her voice low. “Did you hear about Uniontown? A fire Elemental accidentally set their barn on fire. Nearly burned the whole town. Magic is dangerous. I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen, and now –”

“When was the last time your husband lost control, though? Are you saying you think he caused a hurricane?”

“God, no!” You watched your mom straighten. “But there are people saying… awful things.”

“Some people aren’t worth listening to.”

“I know.” Wearily, she exhaled. “They’re talking about Y/N, too, though. Apparently, she caused a tidal wave at the pool last weekend.”

Hearing your name said out loud, you shrank back in the shadows. You weren’t aware your mom knew about that, or that she cared. Bobby Clemmons teased Judith Bryce about her hair until finally, you snapped. Bobby was swept to the other end of the pool, much to Judith’s relief. She thanked you repeatedly.

Bobby was fine, except for some water up his nose. From the way he carried on though, you’d have thought he broke his arm.

Your mother lowered her voice, as though magic was something to be mentioned only in whispers. For the first time, a sense of shame crept over you. Your dad had always been open about magic, though stern. Stern in his belief magic should help people, not hurt. Never once did your dad insinuate magic itself was the problem.

Magic is dangerous.

Your mom’s words on the phone sank in as, your head pounding as you turned around to run up the steps. Even at six, you felt panic. If magic was dangerous and you were magical – that meant you were dangerous, too.

Slipping beneath your comforter, you stared at your shaking hands. Rain hit your windows, snowballing your worry to full-on fear. By the time your mom rushed upstairs, you were rocking under the covers as a storm raged.

She helped to calm you down, got your magic under control and a month after, you moved far away from the sea. A version of yourself vanished as you passed the pier. Despite this, you felt instant relief at the thought of control.

You remember your mom smiling when you joined the highway. “This will be good,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “A fresh start, away from it all. You can be whoever you want to be, Y/N.”

Except for the person you actually were.

Her meaning was clear, even if she didn’t say it out loud. At the time, you found the thought soothing. If you didn’t want to use magic, you didn’t have to. You never had to become your dad, who all your friends said had caused the bad storm. Even the news had turned against you.

Earth Elemental suspected behind San Raoul earthquake!

Jailed air Elemental claims innocence against onslaught of tornadoes!

Fire Elementals flee after string of arson!

Always the exclamation point. Always the lurid fascination that blame could be pinned on a single person. New rules were implemented in the house. No magic, except in your mom’s presence. This soon became no magic at all, but you didn’t mind. Whenever you did use magic, it felt wild, chaotic – the opposite of how you wanted to feel.

Your early years were marked by the struggle to conceal your powers. Years passed without incident and then, something would happen, and you’d have to move. Your mom never begrudged you, simply packed the house to travel to the next city. Each time, you promised you’d do better but by the time you realized school wasn’t for you, you had moved no less than six times.

Art was a risk, though one you found necessary.

Creation meant tapping into emotion, but you found methods of coping. Painting was the only place you loosened the reins on your magic, and so it became an outlet of sorts. A release, preventing your emotions from spilling into unwanted places.

There were other strategies, as well. Deep breathing. Counting backwards from one hundred. Focusing on one point, then on another until the magic calmed in your veins. Until you forgot the dangerous and destructive water around you.

Some people proved more reactionary to you than others. With some people, your magic responded so strongly, you were forced to cut them out completely. The first person this happened with was your best friend, Katrina. You were fourteen when she confided in you her family was fire Elementals. In response, your magic surged.

For a glorious summer, you practiced magic in secret. Each morning, you and Katrina bounded through the woods towards the far creek. You summoned great waves of water for Katrina to singe into mist. Everything was fine until late one evening, your mom caught you. She witnessed the combined magic and lost her temper.

Dragging you from the woods, your mom slammed the front door in Katrina’s face. She sat you down at the kitchen table, delivering a scolding you’ve never forgotten.

Do you know how reckless you were? What if a tree had caught fire? What if you altered the town’s water supply? What if someone saw and the next time a disaster happened, they blamed it on you – or Katrina?

Stricken by these very real possibilities, you promised not to do it again. Although you begged not to move, your mom packed the next day – your fastest exit ever.

The second time you cut someone out was after high school. Elliot was an artist, a quiet guy who dabbled with oils. He saw you painting one day in the park and silently set up his easel beside yours. This happened for weeks until he asked you out. Your ensuing romance was brief and sweet, and your feelings grew within a short period of time.

When Elliot told you he loved you, you dissolved into panic. You could feel how your magic responded, reaching for water that surged through his tiny apartment. Tossing on clothes, you stammered apologies and fled into the night.

For weeks following, it rained. Enough for the reporters to forecast local flooding. The fact terrified you – imagining people trapped on top of cars, small businesses flooded, the Red Cross called in to ferry locals to safety. It took your mom flying out to put you at ease, clearing the skies and regaining control.

Since then, you haven’t let anyone else past your inner walls. Until Jungkook.

Swallowing hard, you stare at his apartment and wonder if you’ll survive. Breaking up with Elliot is one of your worst memories and you only felt a fraction of what you do for Jungkook. Maybe you’ll conjure a hurricane, bringing the events of your life full circle.

Shutting your eyes, you rub at them dully. There’s no point in wondering what-if. You need to end it now, before things get worse. All day, you’ve gone over the facts and arrived at the same conclusion.

As expected, Jungkook was livid about Pierre last night. He wanted to confront your boss himself, although quickly backed off when he realized this was your battle. This though, turned to confusion when you said your intent to do nothing.

Although you tried the usual excuses, none of them stuck. Even if it was just once, Jungkook argued, it shouldn’t go unnoticed. You snapped slightly at this, insisting you’d deal with things in your own time.

Getting angry near Jungkook was peculiar. Suddenly, you became aware of the water around you. Thick, leaden pipes lacing Jungkook’s walls. Moisture that hung in the air, in the clouds – within his very veins. The thought terrified you, wondering what you might do accidentally.

Your panic must have been visible, because Jungkook instantly softened. Crossing the room, he pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “It’s just… I hate seeing you hurt. Of course, you know what’s best. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

His grip grounded you, enough that your magic dissipated, and that you realized a truth you’d hidden for some time.

You were in love with Jungkook.

No one in your life had ever been like him. Someone who was always in your corner, who protected you when they could and lifted up parts they couldn’t. Someone who liked everything about you – even the parts you weren’t brave enough to admit.

Studying his face, you tried to ignore the sudden ache in your chest. Even last night, you knew the inevitable. Memorizing his face, you tried hard to hold on. Jungkook’s slightly rounded nose, his full bottom lip accentuated by two piercings. Dark hair fell over his forehead; strong features contrasted by a soft gaze.

Jungkook watched you as well, and you wondered if he felt the same. Wondered why he’d commit you to memory, since you were the lucky one. He was the miracle, and you were biding your time.

Bending, he lightly brushed your mouth against his. Instantly, you melted. It wasn’t your first kiss and prayed it wouldn’t be the last, but something about last night felt different. Walking the two of you backwards, Jungkook pressed you against the wall and kissed you harder. His touch became desperate, one hand sliding beneath the lines of your blouse.

Your breath hitched at the brush of his fingers, delicious and warm against skin. His touch unknotted a hidden, tangled piece of your soul.

Ever since you met Jungkook, you’d held yourself separate. When you asked him to go slow in the beginning, he agreed. Touching was fine. Kissing was fine. Anything more, and you lost control.

About a month into dating, you met Jungkook at a bar and got tipsy. Three drinks in, you were frantically making out in an alley outside. Jungkook panted, “my place?” against your mouth, and you nodded. The journey back to his place was fast and slow, pausing in every dark place to drag his mouth to yours.

The second his door shut, you found yourself stumbling – into his bedroom, his bed, the confines of his heart. Shoes were discarded with every step, and Jungkook couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. You returned his fervor in spades, nipping his lower lip to watch him smile.

When he fell back on the bed, you saw his pulse quicken. Staring up at you, Jungkook watched your clothing disappear with a gaze so dark, it bordered on onyx. Climbing onto him, you resumed kissing with a newfound reverence. Eyes falling shut, you did your best to stay present.

Each brush of his lips was combustive, each touch of his hands filling you with sharp, pulsing light. And then –

The sink and shower in his bathroom burst on.

Startled, you pulled away and realized it had been you. Your magic had caused it, flooding his bathroom with water. Swearing under his breath, Jungkook scrambled out of bed to hastily turn off both faucets.

You sat there on his bed, heart pounding with fear. By the time he returned, you were already dressed and mortified. Jungkook was all apologies, certain he’d moved too fast, but you assured him he hadn’t. Anything that happened, you were an equal participant – too much maybe, although you didn’t say so out loud.

Lying in bed that night, you stared up at your ceiling. For a moment, it felt as though you were six and under the covers at your old house. Magic was dangerous. You would eventually hurt someone. Dread pooled in your stomach, recognizing the truth. If you couldn’t control your magic around Jungkook, you’d have to end things.

Heartache chased the thought, filling you with so much panic, you nearly drowned. Pushing this aside, you simply resolved to do better. To be better and keep both Jungkook and magic. This was simply another challenge; you owned your magic, not the other way around.

Thus, began the two best and worst months of your life. The best, since you’ve been dating Jungkook and the worst, because at every moment, you’re terrified of hurting him. Walking a line as thin as a razor, you’ve fallen in love while trying your best not to feel.

Until last night, you thought you’d been successful. Life was mostly under control, but then the Pierre debacle took place. Then Jungkook kissed you with such intensity, you forgot who you were and why you’d been holding back. Two long months of restraint and suddenly, you came undone at the seams.

Before long, you were again in his bedroom. Jungkook stripped off his clothes, bare skin pressing to yours with a searing intensity. Pulling you over him, a low hiss escaped while he kissed your throat. Even through his boxers, you could feel how hard Jungkook was. How badly he wanted this; a need you returned.

The thought of him inside you made you frantic. Pushing Jungkook onto his back, you straddled his waist and rocked forward.

Jungkook lay underneath you, his hair a dark halo. Suddenly, you could feel water everywhere. Magic, everywhere – it was in you, around you, in Jungkook’s walls and molecules. Everything felt so utterly fragile, and your magic responded.

Ferocious, it strained at your self-crafted bonds. Realizing how precarious your grasp on control was, your emotions slipped into panic.

You had to leave. Now.

Sensing the change in your body, Jungkook paused.

“I – I’m sorry,” you blurted, scrambling off him. Bending for your pants, you pushed one leg through and hastily zipped. “I need to go.”

Jungkook stared, frozen in place. “I…” Shaking his head, he pushed a hand through his hair. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

Stomach dropping, you roughly shook your head. Part of you ached to correct him but your magic was barely leashed, and you weren’t certain how much longer it’d hold.

Your magic wasn’t something you wanted Jungkook to see.

Frantically throwing on your shirt, you rushed towards his front door. His dog, Bam, whined from the couch and lifted his head as you passed. Yanking open his door, you escaped to the hall and downstairs. You heard Jungkook call after, but he didn’t follow, for which you were grateful.

Remembering his face broke your heart as you entered the subway. You kept your magic at bay until reaching your building, at which point rain swept the city in waves. Soaked through, you got in the elevator and saw Jungkook had texted. Shaking, you responded you’d talk to him tomorrow and turned off your phone.

Rain poured all night and you barely slept. By the time you woke, your mood had gotten worse. Work was torture. Even the lunch shift couldn’t save you, the looming specter of Jungkook impossible to forget. When Pierre showed up around one, you knew you were doomed. His glower could be felt all the way across the restaurant and no matter what you did, you somehow stayed in his way.

With little to no sleep and haunted by last night, the grip on your magic was tentative at best. Your entire shift, it hovered at the edge of your fingers. When Pierre commented you looked tired, the rain outside worsened. When a table of middle-aged men called you ‘girlie,’ their water glasses shook.

It was miraculous nothing happened until the end of your shift. That was the moment Pierre’s friends arrived, seating themselves at the table you gave away last night. One of them laughed as you poured them water, and you managed to push down your snide remark.

Glasses full, you turned around to go and the same one grabbed your waist.

You went still.

For so long, you’ve hidden your magic to protect others. You’ve kept them from hurting and there you were, broken, and no one cared about you. Just like no one cared about your dad, in the end. Teeth gritted, you whirled – and the entire water pitcher dumped itself at him.

At him, not on him.

You didn’t trip. Didn’t throw the water, although either would have been preferrable. Instead, the water leapt from the pitcher to slap the man in the face.

Horrified, you stared as reality sunk in. You had just assaulted a guest – a friend of Pierre’s, at that.

Shocked, the man wiped water down his visage. The entire restaurant fell silent, every eye in the room locked on you. Panic-stricken, you stammered an apology, flung a napkin on the table and fled into the kitchen.

The moment you crashed through the doors, you were hailed a hero. Izumi, your line cook, wistfully recalled the one time she punched a guy who grabbed her ass. Georgina added that once, she spit in the drink of a man who called her a bitch.

Both tactfully avoided the fact that you were an Elemental, which you appreciated. You were starting to feel marginally better – maybe you wouldn’tbe fired, after all – when the door to the kitchen swung open and Pierre stormed through. Seeing his face, your heart sank.

“You!” Spittle flew from his lips as he pointed. “Y/N – pack your things! You’re done here. Fired. You think you can insult my friend, pull some magic bullshit on him, and continue to work here? Fuck that. Get out – now!”

A pin could have been heard in the silence. Coming to your senses, you did exactly as asked and got your things. Pierre hadn’t mentioned pressing charges, and you didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.

Outside, you stood on the sidewalk and stared at the bus stop. Storm clouds brewed above, a visualization of your inner turmoil. Eventually, you turned and trudged down the subway.

Things had reached a point you couldn’t ignore anymore. You were beyond out of control. Emotions surged and strained against your internal walls, threatening everyone you held dear. The city didn’t deserve to be punished, even if no one within it knew of your sacrifice. Pierre’s friends were awful, but you could’ve just as easily lost your temper with someone you loved.

Someone like Jungkook, whom you couldn’t seem to be around without incident.

That was the reason most people feared Elementals. It was selfish of you to put your desires ahead of another person’s safety. The only way to protect someone you loved was to stay away.

Starting with Jungkook. You just wished he didn’t have to get hurt in order for that to happen.

Standing outside his building, you take a deep breath and press the buzzer. You wait for several long moments, wondering if he’s home and then –

“Hello?” Jungkook’s voice crackles over the speaker.

Leaning in, you press 316. “Hey. It’s me. Y/N.”

A weighted pause, and then –

“Come in.”

The door unlocks, and you push it inside. Climbing the steps to his place, your heart starts to pound. The last time you saw Jungkook, you were running away. The last text he sent was, ‘ok,’ in response to your message. If you were Jungkook, you wouldn’t be thrilled to see you.

Coming to a stop outside 316, you lift your hand and knock. A howl responds, followed by the patter of gigantic dog footsteps. Unable to stop your smile, you shake your head at the chaos.

“It’s just me, Bam!” you say, and he stops.

Bam’s howl is replaced with a whine and the sharp thwack-thwack of his tail on the door.

“Bam, out of the way,” Jungkook calls, his voice coming closer. A few seconds later, the door flies open to reveal your boyfriend.

You only catch a glimpse before Bam barrels out, nearly knocking you over. Legs and tail akimbo, he slobbers all over until you bend to pet him. Once satisfied, Bam turns around and trots back inside.

Silence falls between you, and you look up to see Jungkook. He’s dressed casually, sweatpants and a t-shirt bought at a concert you attended. He hasn’t moved aside, blocking you from entering.

Uncertain, you straighten. “Can I come in?”

Slowly, he nods and moves. You walk past him, trying not to focus on the heat of his shoulder. This might be the last time you see Jungkook, so you try to focus on that. Not the prospect of what you’re about to do.

Hearing the door shut, you take a deep breath and turn to face him. “I can’t stay too long,” you admit, digging your nails into the palms of your hands.

Jungkook regards you warily. His expression makes your chest ache, unused to him with such a stern expression. After last night, you suppose it’s earned. You should probably get used to it.

“Y/N.” His jaw works. “What’s going on?”

Deciding honesty is the best policy – up to a point – you force out your next words. “I think we should break up,” you say in a rush.

With a low whine, Bam slinks in the direction of the bedroom. Jungkook glances at him, distracted, before facing forward.

“What do you mean?” His head tilts. “Like, you want to take a break?”

Steeling yourself, you shake your head. “No. As in, I want to break up. Permanently.”

A train passes by the building, rumbling the floorboards underneath. Most people would avoid living in this building for that reason, but Jungkook was overjoyed by the prospect of discounted rent.

He doesn’t seem overjoyed now, though. Instead, he looks stricken.

“Walk me through this,” Jungkook says, walking closer. The set of his mouth has turned stubborn. “I don’t follow. Why are we breaking up again?”

The knot in your chest tightens. You should have known Jungkook wouldn’t make this easy on you. “We’re not good together,” you say, only to correct yourself. “I mean, I’m not good for you. I’m not in a place where I can be in a relationship.”

He comes to a stop. “I can wait, Y/N. I don’t mind.”

Reaching for you, Jungkook’s brows crease when you take a step backwards. His hand falls between you, and he stares at the empty space. The crack in your heart widens, made worse by his silence.

“I mind, though,” you force yourself to say. “I can’t ask you to wait for me, Jungkook. That’s not fair to either of us. It’s too much pressure.”

The words make your heart splinter, reaching a point you aren’t sure can be reassembled. Maybe the pieces will simply lodge in your muscle, bruising your insides each time you draw breath.

“I won’t pressure you,” Jungkook says, automatic. His frown deepens. “Tell me what this is really about, Y/N. Is this about sex? It’s fine if we don’t have it.” Stepping closer, he takes your hand and you let him. “I just want you to be honest with me.”

Somewhat manic, you shake your head – and then nod.

Sex is a part of the problem, but it’s not the root cause. Sex with Jungkook is unthinkable. You can barely remain in control when you kiss, let alone allow more. With your past partners, this wasn’t an issue, but your past partners weren’t Jungkook.

Never have you met someone able to scramble your thoughts with a kiss. Whose gaze melted inhibitions and tore down every wall. You have little doubt that with Jungkook, you’d lose full control, and the thought is terrifying. Already, your makeshift barriers are weakened.

Rain splatters against the window, and your stomach lurches.

“Seriously, Y/N,” Jungkook says, returning your attention to him. “What’s this about? I can tell something’s on your mind.”

He takes your other hand, and you realize how close he stands. “Is it work?” Jungkook asks, a crease between brows. “Is there… some reason you can’t quit? You can tell me, Y/N.”

An odd zing of disappointment goes through you. For a moment, you thought Jungkook had guessed your secret, and this could all be avoided. If Jungkook knew what you were and that you lied to him – well, he’d end things for you. Hesitant, you consider revealing that truth but can’t seem to form words. It would devastate you, seeing fear replace love in his eyes.

“Work isn’t the problem,” you say at last. “It’s us, Jungkook. Or – it’s me. I don’t want to be together anymore.”

Disbelief flashes across his expression, and you idly wonder what will happen if Jungkook refuses. Even as you think this though, his expression shifts. Jungkook takes a careful step backwards, dropping your hands entirely.

He’s never been good at hiding emotion. Jungkook is your opposite in that way, revealing every shift of thought and desire. You watch confusion become anger, then bitterness a moment before he turns away. The set of his shoulders is still, staring out the window as yet another train passes.

Restless, he turns to drag a hand through his hair. “I don’t believe you,” he declares. “This is so out of nowhere, Y/N. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m telling you everything,” you say, panic rising. “And this isn’t out of nowhere! I’ve been telling you for months I need to take things slow and this – well, this is the opposite of slow, Jungkook!”

Jungkook stares back at you, heated. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the tension thick in between you. Eventually, you look away first and pull your bag tighter.

“Right,” you exhale. “Well, I should go –”

Striding forward, Jungkook reaches you to cup your face with both palms. Gently, he lifts your face towards him, and all thoughts cease completely. Gaze searching, his breath fans across your parted lips.

Jungkook’s gaze intensifies. “I don’t believe you,” he murmurs.

Adrenaline zips under your skin, stirring your magic into a deadly storm. Entire body tense, you suppress the urge to fight or flee. So often, you’re the one running but right now, you feel more compelled to fight.

A knife in you twists, knowing you’re a coward. If you were stronger, you could keep Jungkook. No matter how understanding he is, the fact remains that if he stays with you, Jungkook remains in danger. Each passing day only worsens the pain.

His face blurs. With a start of surprise, you realize there are tears on your cheeks. The furrow between Jungkook’s brows deepens, noticing as well.

“You’re not listening,” you blurt. “I can’t see you any longer, Jungkook. It’s in your best interest, I promise – I can’t do this. It’s too much.”

Reaching up, you remove his hands from your face and head for the door.

Jungkook follows close behind. “Which is it, then?” he demands. “You want me to go slowly, or you feel too much?”

Pressure weighs every inch of your skin, demanding you answer. Anything that comes out now will only make things harder. Reaching the door, you feel Jungkook’s hand on your shoulder. Caving, you don’t fight when Jungkook turns you to face him.

He’s too close to you. Too much and too close, his one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck. Slowly, his thumb strokes the elongated line of your throat. You swallow, hard, and his gaze follows the motion.

Jungkook’s gaze flicks to yours. “You keep saying you’re no good for me,” he says, his voice low. “But what if I don’t care? Don’t I get a say in this decision?”

The force of holding in your magic worsens, becoming near impossible. Hastily built walls threaten to collapse, and reality blurs between one moment and the next.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, your hand searching behind you. “I have to go.”

Finding the doorknob, you twist and stumble backwards. Jungkook watches you go, the look on his face physically painful as you turn around. Each second that follows is pure concentration, trying not to break before getting outside.

The ocean is only a few blocks from Jungkook’s apartment.

Reaching the harbor, rain pelts your face in a way that feels punishing. Magic makes your limbs tremble, escaping your body in wisps of fog and rain. The moment you arrive at the harbor, you shatter, collapsing forward to grip your knees with both hands.

Eyes pressed tightly shut, you hear the storm howl. Waves churn the harbor, sloshing over the sidewalk in an attempt to get closer. No tidal waves, you plead in an attempt at reason. No whirlpools, no water spouts.

Your magic listens in this regard, at least. By the time your eyes open, a curtain of rain mingles with tears on your cheeks. Staring out at the ocean, each inch of your body is numb.

Jungkook will never forgive you for this.

The thought banishes all the rest. You can’t say that you blame him. Slowly, you exhale as you lift your gaze. The chasm in your chest widens, becoming something unbreachable. This is all your fault. You wish there was some satisfaction in knowing this, but there isn’t.

Eventually, the rain dulls, and you push yourself upright. Your sneakers squish with every step, the silence all-encompassing as you ride on the subway. Entering the building, you remove your shoes and collapse on your bed, fully clothed. Thankfully, your roommate isn’t home, so you aren’t forced to explain the events of tonight. Seokjin would have wanted to discuss, and you aren’t sure you can without breaking down.

Burrowing your face into the pillows, you manage to cry yourself asleep. Rain doesn’t let up the entire night.

“Tell me again.” Taking a seat at the table, Seokjin spoons yogurt and berries into his mouth. “Why did you have to end things with your boyfriend?”

Cracking open one eye, you glare from where you sit, slumped forward. “You know why, Seokjin,” you grumble. “Not all of us can be air Elementals in perfect control of their magic.”

“You could be, though,” he says, pointing with his spoon. “If you put in like, five seconds of training and embraced your water powers instead of running away whenever things got bad.”

“I am not running.”

“No.” Seokjin lifts a brow. “You’re cowering, which is far less attractive.”

“I’m not cowering, either.” Scowling, you bury your head deeper into your arms. “I’m wallowing. Big difference.”

Scoffing, his spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl. Pushing his chair back to stand, Seokjin heads for the sink and turns on the tap. The water itches a spot deep in your chest, almost taunting.

“I can’t be too hard on you, though,” Seokjin says as he cleans. “You did get fired and dumped in one day – that’s pretty rough.”

“Does it count as being dumped if I did the dumping?”

“I’ll allow it.” He opens the dishwasher. “But only because really, you didn’t want to break up with Jungkook. You’ve just convinced yourself the world is better off without you – something I highly disagree with, by the way, but can’t fault you for feeling. It’s too sad.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, and close your eyes.

Two days have gone by since your decision to end your relationship with Jungkook. It hasn’t been great, to put things mildly. On Monday, you barely left your room and rain poured from the sky. When you did enter the kitchen, the weather person on Channel 9 predicted local flooding.

Seokjin arrived from his business trip that night, took one look at your face and helped stop the storm. You sagged with relief, falling into a fitful round of sleep that only lasted three hours.

Seokjin is one of the few Elementals you know who embraces their power. Both his parents are air Elementals, and he was raised to take over their magical consulting business. Said business does well, leading Seokjin to own a gorgeous, three-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. He got bored last winter, decided to post for a roommate and here you are. One of the few people in the city willing to room with an Elemental.

You don’t care what Seokjin does with his magic, although his laissez-faire attitude can occasionally be unnerving. You’ve lived your entire life with the assumption your existence is dangerous. All you need is a quick Google search to reinforce this fact. But then there’s Seokjin, living his life, seemingly none the worse for the wear.

He discovered your powers about a month into rooming together. Coming back from a trip, Seokjin opened the door to stare, slack-jawed, as plates washed themselves in the sink. Glancing up from your book at the table, you immediately sent two dishes crashing onto the floor.

Seokjin stared at this for a moment, then looked up. “You owe me new plates,” he declared and walked into his bedroom. After a moment, he popped his head out. “Hey – you think if we combined my wind and your water, we could create a waterspout but on land?”

“That’s… a tornado, Seokjin.”

“Right.” He slapped the doorframe once and disappeared. “Well, something to think about!”

Months later, Seokjin still doesn’t understand your avoidance of magic, but respects the decision enough to leave it alone. At least, until something like this happens and he’s again at a loss.

“Listen.”

Turning around, he shuts the dishwasher with his hip.

“Oh, no.” You grimace. “What now?”

Seokjin raises both hands. “Nothing, nothing. Far be it from me to comment on your mistakes. I’m sorry – did I say mistakes? I meant, ‘learned life experience.’ Through mistakes.”

“Was there a question in all that?”

“No question.” Loosely, he gestures. “Just wanted to say you can stay here, rent-free, until you figure this out. You know I’m only taking your money because you insist. I don’t need it. This place is already paid for.”

“Only because you frightened the seller so badly, they cut the price in half.”

“Listen.” Seokjin’s smile turns slightly sinister. “If they were willing to let their ingrained fear of Elementals influence their selling point, that’s on them. Not me.”

“Fair enough,” you sigh and sit back. “But seriously – thank you. This will give me some time to come up with a plan.”

Seokjin nods, tracing the rim of his coffee. Absently, he glances down the hall at the empty third bedroom. “You know…”

“No,” you say, automatic.

His right brow lifts. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to suggest I use this time off to work on my art.”

“Okay.” Seokjin shrugs. “Maybe you did know. But seriously, Y/N – why not?”

Weary, you exhale. “Because every time I try to paint, I get this… block. I can’t explain it. Watercolors used to be the one place I felt comfortable using my magic. Now… I don’t know. I can’t seem to use my magic anywhere. Even my art.”

Seokjin tilts his head, thoughtful. “How long has this been going on?”

“Don’t know – a few months?”

“Not long after you started dating Jungkook.”

Staring at Seokjin, you realize he’s right. That’s exactly around when you began dating Jungkook. The block happened not long after. Thinking about the early days of dating are painful though, and so you choose not to.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” you declare with a shake of your head. “Right now, what I need is a job. And to earn money. Preferably in that order.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch. “Let me know if the order changes. I know a guy.”

Before you can consider his offer too seriously, your phone rings on the table. Glancing down, your heart constricts at your mom’s name. It isn’t that you don’t want to talk. It’s that if you do, Jungkook’s name will come up, and you’ll be forced to explain why you two aren’t together. Right now, you’re managing to cope by avoiding the topic. You aren’t sure what will happen if you’re forced to confront it.

Not to mention the very real possibility your mom will be happy. She liked Jungkook, but she always worries whenever someone new enters your life.

Also glancing at your phone, Seokjin scowls. “Don’t answer it,” he says, walking past. “Whenever you talk to your mom, things get even worse.”

Seokjin’s not wrong. Your mom means well – really, she does – but talking to her tends to leave you exhausted. Still, you know from experience it’s better to answer now.

“I know,” you sigh and stand up. “But if I don’t pick up now, she’ll just keep calling. Hey,” you say, pressing answer. “One second, mom.”

Ignoring Seokjin’s sad shake of his head, you scoop up your coffee and head for your bedroom.

Closing the door to your room, you lean backwards. “Hi, mom,” you say, lifting your phone to your ear. “Sorry about that. I was eating breakfast. How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” your mom says, and you can practically hear her smile. “Same old, same old. The better question is, how are you? I saw on the weather there’s some flooding by you. Hope you’re alright!”

Grimacing, you move the phone to speaker. You should have known your mom would check in. Reading between the lines of her question, you can hear what she’s really asking. Your mom wants to know if you caused the flooding – an answer which is undeniably yes, but she doesn’t have to know that.

Setting down your half-empty mug, you flop face-first on your bed. Less information tends to be more with your mom. You’re debating what to say when she solves the problem for you.

“I know you haven’t had a slip in years,” she continues. “But if there’s another water Elemental in town, you should try to steer clear of them! Being around them could set you off – that’s what happened to Becky’s nephew, she said.”

Fighting an eye roll, you roll on your back. Becky Mayweather is your mom’s best friend in the entire world and one of your least favorite people. She’s the type to bake cookies, offer a shoulder to cry on – and then promptly turn and gossip to the neighbors about it. She fancies herself an Elemental expert because a few of her friends married them. Funnily enough, neither you nor your mom have met these friends in person.

“Oh?” you ask. “I never noticed.”

“It’s true! You know that I worry, Y/N. All alone in the city with another Elemental for a roommate…”

Annoyance spikes in your stomach. “His name is Seokjin, and I’m an Elemental too, mom. His mom could say the same thing about me.”

Seokjin’s mom could be saying that, but she wouldn’t because Seokjin’s mom and dad are both magic enthusiasts. The few times you met them, they were nothing but kind.

“Oh, Y/N.” Your mom sighs. “It’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

“Watch your tone,” she says. “I’m only telling the truth. You work hard on controlling your magic. Your roommate, on the other hand, uses his magic willy-nilly. In broad daylight! You two couldn’t be more different.”

Your mom isn’t wrong about that, although not for the reason she thinks. Seokjin does use his magic freely, but you’re the one at risk of hurting others – not him.

“Seokjin is a good guy,” you say tightly. “He’s letting me stay here, rent-free, while I search for another job.”

“Another job?” Her voice pitches. “What happened to the job at that restaurant?”

Cursing yourself for your own stupidity, you close your eyes. “Um… I was let go. Difference of opinions with management.”

“Oh. Well. That’s too bad, Y/N, I’m sorry. It’s probably for the best – you don’t want to be working for someone you don’t respect, right?”

Some of your anger lessens at her genuine sympathy. It’d be easy to paint your mom as the villain but truthfully, she comes from a good place. You know that she loves you; she just doesn’t want to lose you the same way she lost your dad.

Exhaling deeply, you reach to grab a pillow. “I’ve been trying to paint,” you say. “It hasn’t been going well.”

“No?”

You frown at the obvious joy in her voice.

“Yeah,” you admit.

“Well…” Your mom draws the word out. “We always knew art was a risky hobby, Y/N. Painting. With watercolors. Something could easily go wrong and put you in danger.”

“I know, mom.”

“Actually,” she adds, her excitement growing. “Maybe this is a sign. Y/N – what if this means your powers are weakening?”

Your entire body goes still. “What?”

“Yes!” she says, oblivious to the panic in your voice. “You always loved watercolors because they made sense to you, right? Because of your… well, magic. What if a block means your powers are growing weaker? I wonder if other Elementals ever lose touch with their magic. I’ll have to ask Becky.”

Irrational anger surges within, and you hear the faucet in your bathroom turn on. Hastily, you work to turn it back off.

“You don’t need to do that,” you blurt. “I’ll research it myself. Actually, I should get going – I wanted to apply for some jobs this morning.”

“Oh, yes – good call, honey. You go and apply. Let me know if you need help. Becky has connections with the local university. I’m sure someone could help you update your resume – or even apply, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Thanks,” you say, although it absolutely does not. “That’s a nice offer.”

“Have a good day, honey – I love you!”

“Love you, too,” you say before hanging up.

Dropping the phone onto your bed, you hug your pillow tightly. It takes several long minutes to relax, wading your way through an anxious sea of thought. Although your mom means well, conversations with her tend to leave you feeling drained. Since you were young, it’s felt like your mom has an idea of the perfect child, and they aren’t you.

Eventually, you stand to bring your mug to the kitchen. Seokjin is busy making another pot of coffee, the delicious scent wafting overhead.

Passing him by, you eye this warily. “Isn’t that your third pot this morning?”

“And?” Seokjin reaches for his mug. “You’ve had three cups yourself.”

“Touché,” you sigh, collapsing on the couch.

Minutes later, Seokjin enters the living room and hands you a mug.

Staring into the drink, you say, “Thanks.”

Settling onto the sofa, Seokjin examines you over the rim of his coffee. You ignore him, taking a long sip of your drink. A summer breeze wafts through the window, and with a flick of his wrist, Seokjin sends it back out.

A stab of envy goes through you, although you know it’s irrational. Seokjin always makes magic look easy, but you’ve never found it to be so. Maybe when you were younger, before the crippling fear and anxiety had a chance to set in. The only time magic ever felt normal was when you painted and now, you can’t even do that.

Thinking about painting makes you think about Jungkook though, causing the dull thud in your chest to become a sledgehammer. You miss him. Miss the easy way Jungkook made you laugh. How he insisted on constantly touching some part of your body.

Cupping your mug of coffee, you take another sip and sink into the sadness.

“Far be it from me to dole out advice.” Seokjin interrupts your tiny pity party. “But I think you’re going about this the wrong way.”

Too exhausted to argue, you merely exhale. “What’s the right way, then?”

His head tilts. “I don’t know. But I find it weird your block appeared around the same time you started dating Jungkook. You’ve…” Seokjin hesitates, and you recognize his how-do-I-put-this-delicately face. “You’ve given up a lot over the years, Y/N. Maybe this time, you gave up more of yourself than you realized.”

Silently, you wonder whether he’s right. For too long, you’ve gone through the motions of life without really living. Too scared of letting people in, scaring them off, of being yourself. Perhaps giving up Jungkook will be the final straw. The thought doesn’t comfort you, and you have no response.

After a moment, Seokjin turns on the TV. The morning slips by, though you can’t help but think about his earlier comments – could you control your magic if you tried harder? The moment you think this, you instantly banish the thought. You’ve been attempting for months, and nothing has worked.

With this cheery thought, you allow yourself to sink further into melancholy. Only this time, the water rushing overheard isn’t your friend. You aren’t sure it ever was.

Wednesday morning, you leave the apartment in a haze. You thought that by today, things would be better but if anything, the situation seems to be worse.

Missing Jungkook is painful.

It hurts more than you thought, which might sound stupid, but that doesn’t make it any less true. When you and Elliot broke up, it was sad, but you knew it was for the best and that lessened some of the pain. Now though, each beat of your heart prevents the wound from closing. A tentative scab in one second, only to be torn open the next.

Jungkook always sent you good morning texts. Not because he was up before you, but because he went to bed so late, it was only an hour or two before you awoke. His words were the first thing you read in the morning, smiling sleepily at his rambling. Sometimes, Jungkook would include a late-night snack recipe. Always, he’d end with something he liked about you.

His silence is deafening. Something not even your favorite coffee shop can fix, although you try. Standing in line, you aimlessly flip through songs on your phone. Today, you promised Seokjin you’d attend at least two interviews. The first one is in an hour at a sushi restaurant. Before then, you plan to load up on caffeine and organize your thoughts.

When the line moves forward, you flip to your messages. No new texts. Unsurprising, but it rends the scab in your heart anew.

Facing forward, you remove an earbud to order. “Hi,” you say, mustering a smile. “I’ll have an iced americano with rose syrup.”

“Got it.” The barista barely looks up. “That all?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Want a receipt?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.” She nods. “That’ll be ready soon at the end of the counter.”

Nodding your thanks, you replace the ear pod. Cranking your music louder, you wait for your coffee and lean against the counter. The coffee shop is tiny, empty for a weekday after the morning rush. Aimless, you glance over the clustered tables.

Your thoughts are on Jungkook before they can be stopped. You wonder what he's doing, what he’s wearing, whether he’s blocked your number yet from his phone.

A talented graphic designer, Jungkook works mostly on commission and on his own time. He does well for himself – enough to afford rent on his own place. Your mutual creative streak was something you had in common. Not your sleeping hours, that’s for sure.

Jungkook usually slept until nine or ten, then went to the gym before he made breakfast. You used to tease him about that, saying he couldn’t call it breakfast if –

Your heart falters. Jungkook must be on your mind since you seem to have hallucinated him here, at the coffee shop. You blink once, and then twice, but the mirage doesn’t fade, and you’re forced to conclude Jungkook is actually here.

Unfolding himself from a chair, he heads in your direction. Panicked, you glance at the counter, then back up. Your coffee hasn’t finished, which means that you’re trapped. Straightening, you do your best to seem natural and are certain you fail. Jungkook doesn’t just look natural, he is so as he approaches. At least, until you notice his hands in his pockets.

Jungkook does this when he’s nervous. Likely, he’s playing with the inside pocket lining. It hurts, knowing him so well, and not being his. When Jungkook comes to a stop, you stand mere inches apart.

“Jungkook,” you say, his name punched from your diaphragm.

He nods. “Hey.”

Uncertain, you glance down at the counter to check for your drink. Still nothing and, looking back, you tilt your head. “What are you doing here?”

Jungkook’s hands go deeper, if possible. “Getting coffee. Is that allowed?”

Your lips press together. “Sure. Theoretically, you can get coffee. What I’m asking though, is why you chose this coffee shop, five blocks away from your place. Usually, you’re not awake before noon.”

His expression is inscrutable. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah.”

The silence between you lengthens, and not in a good way. You know why you’re quiet but can’t tell what Jungkook is thinking. You suppose that it’s possible he woke up early, forgot this was your favorite shop and went on a long walk for coffee – it’s possible, but unlikely.

At last, Jungkook exhales. “Alright, fine. I wanted to see you.”

“Y/N?”

Both of you turn at the sound of your name. Glancing between the two of you, the barista seems to pick up a weird vibe, dropping the cup to hurry away. Grateful for the interruption, you reach for your coffee and attempt to reset.

It’s not fair of Jungkook, corning you like this. You were already forced to end this once – unfair, making you do so again. Breaking up with him once was barely possible; twice is unthinkable.

“Don’t you have anything else to say?”

His voice interrupts your train of thought and, gripping your drink tightly, you turn.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Like, I don’t know.” His brow furrows, frustration obvious. “Anything, Y/N.”

Behind the counter, the barista fills a tea kettle to set this on the stove. You watch it instead of Jungkook, unsure how you’re going to do this again. The pressure of the water boiling is near tangible, mimicking the internal state of your mind.

Biting your tongue, you decide a safe exit is best. Jungkook will get the hint without you being forced to break his heart. Counting backwards from ten, you exhale and attempt to walk past.

“I’m sorry you came all this way,” you say in a murmur.

You’re nearly past Jungkook when you hear a soft swear. Only one more step happens before his hand grips your elbow.

“Y/N, please,” Jungkook breathes, turning you towards him.

Your gaze lifts and you start at his obvious pain. Staring back, Jungkook searches your face for something unspoken. Whatever he seeks, he must find it, since determination enters his.

You tear your gaze away. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jungkook.”

“I want to know if you were serious about breaking up.”

He’s still holding your elbow.

You must notice this at the same time, but neither of you move. Your gaze returns to his, drawn like a magnet and you realize your mistake when you can’t look away. Romeo’s line about Julie being the sun comes to mind, making sudden sense. You orbit around Jungkook, whether you like it or not.

In the background, a tea kettle whistles. “I meant what I said, Jungkook,” you say, forcing yourself to speak first. “I’m not good for you.”

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “But why,” he demands, frustration seeping through. You can hear in his voice the long nights of desperation, of little sleep in your absence. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Y/N. What did I do?”

A chasm in your chest opens, hating how easily he jumps to self-doubt. Before you can think better of it, you move closer.

“Nothing,” you say, one hand on his arm. “You did nothing wrong, Jungkook. I’m just not in a place where I can be in a relationship.”

“But why not?” His gaze sharpens. “Everything was fine between us until Sunday.”

“Everything was not fine.”

Jungkook pauses, then barrels on. “When you say you can’t be in a relationship… what you’re really saying is you can’t be in a relationship with me.”

“With anyone,” you correct, although you aren’t sure that’s the truth.

Your magic has never been this temperamental. Possibly because this is the first time you’ve fallen in love. Dating someone not Jungkook would be safer, but the thought is abhorrent.

If you can’t have Jungkook, you don’t want anyone. That will be your punishment. Jungkook will move on, fall in love, and be happy with another person. Not you. No one else will compare, and if you can’t now, you doubt you’ll move past this crippling fear.

“You keep telling me that,” Jungkook says, growing heated. “But I’m the one you’re breaking up with, so it’s a little bit about me. You need to give me something, Y/N. Is this about your past? I know you don’t like to talk about your childhood, but I want to know.”

A loud buzzing fills your ears, gaze darting around. You haven’t told Jungkook much about your family, not wanting to invite questions about being an Elemental. The thought of him guessing sparks panic again, and the tea kettle on the stove whistles louder.

“People in my past hurt me,” you say in a rush. Magic itches beneath your skin, begging for escape. “That’s part of it, but not all.”

“What’s all, then?”

Frustration seeps past the wall, and several things happen. Your magic lashes out, a loud noise makes you jump, and the tea kettle shatters while hitting the floor. Water sloshes across the tile, steam hissing as the barista jumps back with a yelp.

Startled, you whirl around. One barista turns off the stove, another grabs a towel while a third finds a broom. Luckily, none of them seem injured – the tea kettle missed their skin. Taking a half-step towards them, you force yourself to stop. Although you want to help, that might make you seem guilty.

Already, the guilt within you is rising. You felt your magic overpowering you and chose to stay. If a barista had been hurt, it would’ve been your fault.

Turning back, you find Jungkook staring at the mess. He looks similarly shocked, twisting the knife in your gut. If he knew you caused this, he’d look at you that differently.

“You see?” you blurt, and he glances in your direction. “Everyone around me gets hurt. I can’t hurt you, too, Jungkook.”

Shoving open the door, you’re halfway outside when his words reach your ears.

“That’s the thing, Y/N,” he says softly. “You already have.”

The door shuts behind you, and you almost make it home before starting to cry. The skies open again above the city.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” you mutter, staring through the window.

The slightly dilapidated Ramen-rama tables stare back at you until the owner walks past. Catching you standing there, he motions you on.

Somewhat chagrined, you trudge down the sidewalk. Reaching a playground two blocks away, you collapse on a bench and attempt to be rational. Four different interviews. Spread across two different days. Each one ending the exact same.

One crappy interview, even two, and you’d understand. But four crappy interviews in the same way? Something weird is happening. Each interview, you arrived, greeted the owner, answered a few questions, and were thus informed the position was filled.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t gotten a job. It was that your interviewers seemed nervous, staring hard at your resume and never your face. They seemed relieved when you left, as though you were liable to break something for fun.

“Hey. Did you interview this morning at Ramen-rama?”

Startled, you turn and find a stranger beside you.

You don’t recognize him; certainly you’d remember if you met before. Dressed in a Ramen-rama t-shirt, his dark hair is gathered in a bun on his head. His hair makes your chest ache, since Jungkook used to wear his like that.

“Um, yeah,” you say, yanking yourself from your daydreams.

He smiles and nods. “I thought that was you. Listen – I overheard the manager talking this morning on the phone while I was unloading the truck. I think he was talking about you, so I thought I should tell you what I overheard.”

Concerned, you straighten. “Uh, okay. What was he saying?”

“He was talking to your old boss – Pierre? Apparently, he’s calling around and warning people not to hire you. Said that you stole from him, or something. Not sure if it’s the same story for everyone, or if he’s making up shit up in the moment.”

Your jaw nearly drops. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” The guy’s smile turns wry. “I’m assuming none of it’s true. You don’t look like the thieving type, but the boss is running a business, I guess. Can’t be too careful.”

“Right.” You pause, then shake your head. “I didn’t steal, just so you know. A guest was an ass to me, so I dumped water on him – on accident,” you add.

Laughing loudly, the guy clutches his bicycle. “Wow, I’d love to hear that story. Especially the part about it being an accident,” he adds with a wink, sticking out his hand. “I’m Wooyoung.”

“Y/N,” you say as you shake. “So. Pierre is calling people?”

Brow furrowed, Wooyoung pulls back. “Yeah. Sorry I had to tell you like this. Wasn’t sure whether you’d want to know, but figured I should.”

You push yourself to stand. “I do appreciate it. Thanks for telling me.”

“No problem.” Sheepish, he glances down the road. “I should actually get back if I don’t want to lose my job. Delivery,” he explains, nodding towards his bike. “Need the extra income.”

“Makes sense,” you say, forcing a smile. “Good luck.”

Wooyoung nods, then pauses in a way that feels familiar. He’s checking you out, you realize after a moment. Although flattering, it’s instantly followed by a rush of guilt. Wooyoung is cute and in another life, you’d say yes, but in every life, it’s hard not to want Jungkook.

Waving goodbye, Wooyoung climbs onto his bike and takes off. You head in the opposite direction, needing to put distance between you and Ramen-rama. If Pierre is shit-talking you across town, you’ll be hard-pressed to find another job at a restaurant. Owners are notoriously clicky and for how many restaurants there are, there are surprisingly few out of the loop.

Maybe you can ask the coffee shop if they’re hiring. Although you should probably avoid work with water for a bit. This drops your mood, your thoughts turning desperate. You’re so deep in an anxiety spiral, you nearly run into an open door on the sidewalk.

Jerking upright, you stare at faded, golden letters. Creative Courage is spelled in looping cursive over a frosted window. Art supplies fill a display case, while the other is clustered with art of all kinds. You spot sculpture, pottery, painting, and sketches before losing count.

Before you can chicken out, you push open the door.

Stepping in, tiny bells chime to announce your arrival. Soft, ambient light fills the space – a shop that’s two-fold, you realize now that you’re inside. The front sells art supplies while in the back stands a classroom. There’s a class in session now, several artists seated on stools before easels.

“Can I help you?” someone asks, stepping into your path.

Blinking, you focus. “Um, no – thank you! I was just looking.”

“Of course!” The woman beams, reaching up to arrange a clip in magenta hair. “That’s what we’re here for. If you do change your mind, let me know – we’ve got art supplies out front, and classes are held daily in back.”

“Classes?”

“Mhm.” Crossing her arms, the woman nods. “Mostly still life and figure drawing, but we’re hoping to add some more soon. Are you an artist?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

Immediately, you stiffen. “No. At least, not right now.”

Her lips twitch. “Not sure it works like that, unfortunately. Who you are can’t come on and off like a jacket. I like that, though,” she admits with a laugh. “Might borrow it the next time the muses aren’t singing.”

You can’t help but grin. “Exactly.”

Her head tilts, surveying you with unnerving intensity. “My name is Taryn. I co-own this place with my partner, Micah. They’re the one teaching right now.”

“Oh,” you say, somewhat wistful. “That’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Her smile widens. “So, what was your preferred medium? You know, ‘back when’ you were an artist.”

You can’t help but laugh when Taryn lifts her hands to use air quotes. Some people have a way of making you feel included in their jokes, and Taryn is one of them. She teases you in a conspiratorial way, letting you know she understands. People often call art a labor of love, which can be true but more often, it’s a complicated tangle of love, pain and frustration.

“Watercolors,” you admit. “And my name is Y/N.”

Her eyes brighten. “We’ve been meaning to add a watercolor class for ages. Some of our regulars have asked, but Micah and I are both hopeless. Potter,” she explains, gesturing at herself. “And Micah prefers charcoal. Sometimes sculpture.”

“Wow,” you say. “Those are very different.”

“You don’t say.” Taryn laughs. “Micah likes to keep things fresh. What about you? Have you ever taught be– hang on,” she blurts, her eyes going wide. “Did you say that your name is Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N?”

Your cheeks heat. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Whirling, Taryn hustles through the front room to duck behind a counter. Digging through several drawers, she pulls out a print to hurry back.

“Is this you?” she demands, thrusting this in your face.

Even cross-eyed and close, you recognize your most popular work. A watercolor series on the majesty and destruction of sea storms. Looking at this makes you feel raw, and so you look up.

“Yep,” you admit. “That’s me.”

Pulling back, Taryn looks at the print reverently. “You’re amazing. Micah was trying to do something similar but couldn’t capture the right feeling.”

Shuffling awkwardly, you shrug. You’ve never felt as though your work deserved acclaim, although it’s nice to know the series resonated with others. One of your favorite aspects of art is how it can be intensely personal but once shared, takes on a universal quality. You find it constantly surprising; how many people seem to share the same burdens.

“Seriously.” Taryn shakes her head wryly. “If you ever wanted to teach a class, let me know. We’d be lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you,” you say, stuffing both hands in your pockets.

You hadn’t realized your desperation was obvious. Or possibly Taryn is just incredibly good at reading others. Truthfully, it’s been a while since you stepped foot in the art world. Even before dating Jungkook, you felt your passion lagging. It’s been a long time since you wanted to connect with your inner voice, although merely the act of being here calls the tide in your blood.

Dangerous.

Recognizing this, you reinforce an inner wall. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I’m not really looking for something right now.”

Taryn nods. “Sure. If things change though, just let me know – before next week,” she adds. “We try to publish our class schedule on the first of each month.”

“Will do. Thanks, again.”

“Anytime!” Beaming, Taryn spins to restock the next shelf.

Realizing your conversation is finished, you continue down the next aisle. The shop’s materials are superb, and your fingers are itching to reach out and touch. Reaching the front, you notice a quote painted over the register: Creativity takes courage – Henry Matisse.

You stare at this for a while, unsure why it hurts. Courage isn’t something you’ve thought about in a long time. When you were younger, you pushed people away because it was safe, but now you find yourself wondering who was that for – others? Or yourself?

Maybe the reason you keep yourself separate is because you are afraid people might leave you. Like Katrina. Or Elliot. Or even your dad.

Suppressing magic was hard at the start. Everything about it felt counter-intuitive but you reasoned doing the right thing often took effort. This is what you told yourself, anyways. It made said effort more bearable.

When you first began painting, the relief you felt was immense. After so long spent ignoring your emotions, you found a space to be free. Your series about the sea was oddly therapeutic, working through complicated emotions; your love for the ocean, coupled with fear of its wild beauty. Similar clashes within yourself about magic. And always, always, the desire for more.

For a few hours though, those feelings could be a part of you. Magic could be a part of you, so long as you remained in control – and with brush in hand, you were.

Only now does it occur to you that maybe, this wasn’t healthy. Maybe you shouldn’t feel the need to compartmentalize, as though certain pieces of yourself can only exist in certain spaces.

Tearing your gaze from the words, you exit the shop and gently shut the door. Pulling your jacket tighter, you head down the sidewalk and let your thoughts drift. Jungkook only saw you paint once, but the memory is hard to forget.

You had just started dating, barely past the stage of calling him ‘boyfriend.’ The constant influx of emotion was difficult to manage, and after a few weeks, you were exhausted. Most of your time spent without Jungkook was seated before your canvas. After one particularly frustrating session, you set down your paint to stubbornly stare at the canvas.

A throat cleared from behind.

Startled, you spun and found Jungkook standing there. His gaze moved quickly to yours, but you realized he’d been staring at your half-finished work. Normally, you felt panic at the thought of someone seeing a work in progress. That night though, the look on Jungkook’s face eased your concerns. Awe; pure and clear.

Yanking down giant, over-ear headphones, you hastily stood.

Jungkook lurched forward. “No!” he blurted, only to halt. “I mean – you don’t have to cover the painting. I liked it.”

He seemed flustered, which made you slightly flustered, but you took a slow step sideways. Eager, Jungkook’s gaze traversed the canvas.

Eventually, he looked back. “Sorry about that,” Jungkook said and walked closer. Warm hands found your waist. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“How did you get in?” you laughed, burying your face in his chest.

“Seokjin.” He paused. “Did he not say I was here? I texted you a half hour ago, but you didn’t respond. I figured I’d stop by, and Seokjin said to come up.”

Softening, you made a mental note to chastise Seokjin later. Tightening your arms, you lifted your head and smiled.

“So.” Jungkook glanced over your shoulder. “This is you.”

This sent a thrill down your spine. He spoke as though he’d known you before, but only on a surface level and now, he understood. Jungkook knew your art was part of you, as much as your heart or your soul. You had often felt the same, but never said so out loud.

Magic swelled, and you pushed it back down, but it was difficult. When Jungkook bent his head, you forgot to be scared and let yourself feel. The brush of his lips. The tightening of his hands. The current within you, swelling against your highest walls.

Loudly, someone knocked on the door. Breathless, you jerked backwards and found Seokjin in the door.

“Hey.” He jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Wanted to let you know our dishwasher broke. Flooded the kitchen.” Pointed, Seokjin looked at you. “Everything is all good, but I’m calling a plumber tomorrow. Carry on.”

In a flurry of embarrassment, you abruptly ended the evening and sent Jungkook home.

Remembering how the night ended, you stifle a groan and walk faster. Once more, you couldn’t control your magic and put Jungkook in danger. Hardly the creative courage Henry Matisse imagined.

You always assumed suppressing your magic was the best choice. But the best choice for who? Certainly not for you, who lives isolated, inert and in fear of yourself. Your dad used to call your magic a gift, but it’s been a long time since you felt that way.

This memory brings with it a sharp stab of pain. Since your dad passed, fear has replaced any joy your magic brought. Fear of falling victim to the same fate he did. Of others’ rejection. Of failing to live up to your father’s example.

You have little doubt that if your dad could see you now, he’d be confused by your actions.

You push others away in the name of saving them. Again, you think of Jungkook and for once you allow it. The entire way home, you wish that he’d call.

He doesn’t though and eventually, you stop hoping.

By Friday, the threads keeping your feelings at bay are nearly worn through. Intrusive thoughts push against fragile bonds, threatening the haven you’ve carefully crafted.

With more force than needed, you toss clothing into the washer. Your usual laundromat was closed, forcing you to walk five blocks to the next one. Sweaty from suddenly sweltering temperatures, your arms sore from the hamper, the situation does nothing to improve an already crappy mood.

Wiping your forehead with one arm, you slam the door and press start. The machine whirs to life, laundry tumbling in a way reminiscent of your inner turmoil. Up, you did the right thing by ending it with Jungkook. He’ll swiftly move on and find someone else. Down – but you don’t want him to find someone else. You want him to find you.

Teeth gritted, you turn and grab your hamper from the floor. Placing this on the washer, you wearily tug your cell phone from your pocket. By the time you walked home, you’d have to come back, leaving you with forty minutes to kill. You could read more of the book you just started. Or submit your resume to a couple of restaurants.

After yesterday’s disaster at Ramen-rama though, the interview process has stalled. Instead, you’ve found yourself thinking more about Creative Courage. For a brief moment, you even walked into the third bedroom to paint.

You immediately walked back out again, but merely the act was more than you’ve done in months. The thought of creation brought mostly panic, since it’d involve you being honest. Something you haven’t been with yourself in a while.

Because if you were honest, you know what you’d find. You would regret breaking up with Jungkook. Maybe even find that, deep down, you want to be selfish. You want to keep dating him, even if Jungkook gets hurt in the end.

After all, you saw what loving an Elemental did to your mom.

Putting down your phone, you scan the laundromat and find your gaze catching on the person in the next aisle.

No. No, no, no – absolutely not.

The universe – or whoever’s writing your story – must be cruel and unusual, since standing beside you is Jungkook. You’d recognize his head anywhere. Straightening from his hamper, Jungkook turns to face you and goes still.

Eyes wide, he seems stunned until someone slams shut their dryer. Both of you jump, breaking eye contact and time seems to reset. Pressing start on his machine, Jungkook grabs his gym bag and hoists it over one shoulder. He strides towards the exit, halfway there when you spring into action.

Dashing towards him, you cut him off at the dryers. Footsteps slowing, Jungkook meets your gaze with visible confusion.

“Sorry,” he says, tugging his gym bag behind him. The thick, grey strap of it cuts across his hoodie. “I was just leaving. I can come back later if you want to finish your load.”

Again, he tries to move past you, but something inside of you snaps. You aren’t sure what possesses you, but somehow, find your hand gripping his sleeve.

Startled, Jungkook stares.

Equally swift, you withdraw. “I, uh…”

Head spinning, all your words seem to fly out the window. Nothing about this was planned. You have no idea what to tell Jungkook besides I’m sorry, and even this would be woefully inadequate without explanation. Which you can’t give.

“You don’t have to leave on my account,” you say at last.

A singular brow lifts. “No? You didn’t seem to think that way on Wednesday.”

You suppress a wince, although you try your best to hide it. “I know,” you admit. “It’s just… this is your usual laundromat. I don’t want you to leave because of me. I wouldn’t even be here, expect the one near me is broken and –”

“Got it,” he interrupts, the words tight. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have to be.”

Swallowing hard, you stare down at your shoes. You know you deserve this, but it’s just so hard to see Jungkook hurting. He deserves to be happy, not wasting his energy on hating you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Your eyes start to burn, and you squeeze them shut to prevent a reaction. You absolutely cannot cry in front of Jungkook. Not when you’re the one who started this; the very last thing you want him to feel for you is pity.

“Hey.” Something in his tone shifts, and you hear Jungkook step closer. When you open your eyes, he watches you intently. “What’s wrong?”

A tiny fissure within your chest splinters.

Anyone else could have asked those words, and you would have been able to answer. For Jungkook to do so is unthinkable. You’re the one who ruined this. The one who hurt him, who ended this and still, Jungkook is concerned about your well-being.

“I was fired on Sunday,” you say in a rush. “Before I came to see you.”

He blinks only once before his face hardens. “Before you broke up with me, you mean.”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, Jungkook glances away. His expression is taut, and you feel a sharp pang of envy. It’s so easy to read Jungkook. You’ve spent so long hiding your emotions, it strikes you as luxurious how easily he feels.

A muscle in his jaw tics. “Y/N,” Jungkook says, turning back. “What are you doing?”

“What… do you mean?”

Fear spikes your heart, wondering if Jungkook has finally pieced the facts together. Maybe he saw more than you realized at the coffee shop. Maybe he finally knows what you are.

“Why are you… torturing me?” he clarifies, a slight rasp to his voice. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You were fired? That sucks, but it doesn’t make this okay. It doesn’t make us okay,” he adds, gesturing to the air between you.

“I – I know,” you stammer, nearly blurting out something you’ll regret.

Like that you’re an Elemental teetering close to the edge. One who can feel every pipe, every spin cycle within the walls of this laundromat. All of them churning, pulsing, begging for your magic to release the water inside.

“You know?” Jungkook stares at you, incredulous. “Again, Y/N – what do you want from me?”

Since you started talking, you’ve moved several steps closer. Another breath, another reach and you’d be in his arms. Glancing down, you notice how quickly Jungkook’s chest rises and falls.

He’s afraid, you realize. Jungkook’s fear isn’t the same one as yours, though. He isn’t afraid that you’ll see him, but rather that you’ll destroy him.

Realizing this, a barrier within you crumbles. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, somewhat desperate.

“You keep saying that.” Determined, he steps closer and somehow, your hand entwines with his to press against his chest. “You keep saying you don’t want this, but you won’t tell me why. Won’t tell me anything, Y/N – you were fired, and this is the first time I’m hearing it.”

“I couldn’t tell you!” you blurt. “I can’t explain it, Jungkook, but I couldn’t tell you when it happened.”

His gaze sharpens. “Then, yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe we are better off broken up.”

Releasing you, Jungkook brushes past you and heads for the exit. You stare blankly at the wall before you, your whole world caving in as your head starts to spin. Magic seeps beyond your fractured walls, flooding your veins in desperate search for an exit.

“That’s not true,” you protest, spinning around. “I’ve told you more than anyone else in my life, Jungkook. I’ve let you in in ways no one else has.”

Jungkook stiffens at the door, his entire body taut. For a single, long moment, it seems as though he might reconsider but the longer you stand there, the more you watch the fight drain from the lines of his shoulders.

“I don’t doubt that’s true,” he says, hand hovering above the doorknob. “But that’s not the same as letting me in.”

He starts to go.

Everything around you becomes white noise.

When you were ten, you passed a famous dam on one of your cross-country moves. Your mom took you to see it, swinging your hand while entering the viewing platform.

The moment you saw it, you went wholly still. Trillions of gallons of water, trapped behind concrete, constantly pushing but unable to break. It felt like your magic. Raw, untamed power contained by a solid wall. You stared for longer than any other visitor, until your mom pulled your arm and said you should leave.

The entire way to the car, your mom was silent and once you were buckled in, she twisted around to see you. “Listen to me, Y/N,” she said, her voice serious. “That dam will only work if the wall holds. If the wall breaks, do you know what happens?”

Silent, you shook your head.

“The water will flood the whole valley. Everyone in its path, all the forest – they’d be gone. The wall can’t break, or bad things happen. Do you understand me?”

Solemn, you nodded because even then, you understood. Although your magical dam was intangible, it held equal importance. You had to hold in the magic, otherwise bad things would happen. So long as the wall was in place, you were safe.

Now though, you squeeze your eyes tightly as the wall starts to crumble.

Emotions break with the force of a tidal wave, racing ahead and drowning all in its path. Memories you thought were long buried continue to rise, crushing you further. Your walls are destroyed in a matter of seconds.

You remember your dad, kissing you on the head before leaving the house. Katrina’s stricken expression when the door shut in her face. Jungkook, asking you what he’d done wrong again.

Each memory drags you under, and you shudder against the onslaught. It takes everything you have to remain standing while your restraint dissolves.

Hands grip your arms.

Surprised, your eyes fly open to find Jungkook before you. His neck muscles strain, yelling to be heard over thundering water. You try your best to focus, to rein your magic back in – only to realize with horror, it might be too late.

The laundromat around you is in chaos. Several ceiling pipes have burst, water crashing down in torrents of water. Already, waves lap at your ankles. Noise filters back in, flickering before solidifying to something substantial.

People are screaming, abandoning their hampers in an attempt to get out. The door has stuck though, unable to open under the onslaught of water. Jungkook yells again, and this time you hear him.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, close to your face.

You stare upward, stupefied. Another pipe bursts, and you think that was you, but it’s hard to be sure. Hard to understand which parts are in control and which parts are not. What particular emotion is holding the reins at any moment.

Determination replaces fear in his face, and Jungkook bends before you have time to blink. In an instant, you’re tossed over his shoulder. A yelp escapes, upside-down but he’s already wading through the aisle of washers.

Jungkook shouts at people to move, but no one is listening. After a moment, you feel him exhale and surge forward. Although you can’t see, the people seem to be moving, so Jungkook must appear confident.

Grasping the door, he pulls on it, hard. Nothing happens. Exhaling, Jungkook grips your waist tighter and mutters, “Hold on.”

You don’t have time to ask why, since he yanks harder and the entire frame shudders. Jungkook does this again and another pipe bursts, drawing your gaze. By the time you look back, the door has budged an inch and water is pouring out. With a final wrench, Jungkook yanks open the door.

People shove past him, rushing into the street with the tide of water. Spinning around, Jungkook shields you with his frame from the wet crush of bodies. His grip never wavers, feet anchored to the ground as though they’ve rocks themselves.

With each breath, your pulse slows until finally, you locate the faint threads of magic. Before, you felt too much at once. The crush was overwhelming but now, you manage to breach the surface. For the first time, you see your panic influencing the tide.

Realizing this, you reach inward and try to – turn. With great effort, you identify the source of your power and disconnect. Water in the ceiling slows to a trickle, and then, nothing.

Exhaling against your neck, Jungkook’s hand moves lower.

You can’t help but shiver. “Jungkook?” you murmur into his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Could you… you know, set me down?”

“Oh.”

Somewhat sheepish, Jungkook lowers you to face him. He doesn’t step away, and neither do you. If this is the last time you see him, you want to be selfish and make it as long as possible.

He stares back at you, waterdrops caught between his lashes. In the background, water continues to drip from a pipe. The soft plink-plink echoes the thud of your heart.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Jungkook’s hands remain on your waist, his touch scrambling all semblance of sanity. You aren’t sure how to answer without being honest.

Truthfully, you’re not okay.

An okay person wouldn’t break up with their boyfriend and then, six days later throw themselves in their path. An okay person wouldn’t be hiding their magic, they wouldn’t be lying to the person they love and most of all, wouldn’t continue to place that same person in danger.

Silent, you survey the aftermath of your outburst. Deep down, your magic itches in response to your panic. Seeping outward, it seeks to mold to the fear, but you manage to stop it. Something about the wall being gone makes your power less alien. No longer an unknown variable, but a constant.

“No,” you exhale. Steeling yourself, you take a step backwards. “No, Jungkook, I’m not okay. I… this is exactly why you should stay away from me. Bad things happen, and I can’t control them. I’m so sorry.”

Again, you brace yourself for his anger, but it never comes. Jungkook is unusually quiet, head cocked to one side. He sees right through you, a sensation unnerving enough that you drop your gaze.

“I should go,” you repeat, stepping around him. Reaching your washer, you hastily unload your soggy clothing. “I have to go.”

Jungkook says nothing, although you feel his gaze on the back of your head. Hefting your hamper, you slam the door shut, and turn. The water level at your ankles has dropped, no more than a centimeter remaining in the room.

Sirens wail in the distance, likely on their way to investigate. Your stomach lurches, recognizing the cost of your magic. As soon as possible, you should reach out to Seokjin. His company might be able to cover the damage if the laundromat can’t.

Nearing the exit, you look anywhere but at Jungkook’s face. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, unsure what else to say. “Really, I am.”

Again, he lets you move past. Water rushes out when you open the door, seeking the street, then the gutter. Hurrying past, you can’t shake the feeling something has changed.

Not only with you and Jungkook, but with you and your magic. Silent, you prod the place deep within from which your magic stems. You’re used to a wall, feeling closed off but now, it seems your mom was right.

Once shattered, the dam can’t be rebuilt.

A weightlessness accompanies this that you didn’t anticipate. Despite the terror of your outburst, there was a moment near the end when you stopped it. When you felt what was wrong and controlled your outburst of magic. You haven’t done that before.

The thought is followed by regret, remembering Jungkook. When you broke up, it was supposed to save him. Instead, you’ve only put him – and yourself – in greater danger. Maybe because you’ve continued to see him. Everything would be fine if you moved or kept your distance.

But then, another part of you wonders if you were wrong from the start. Maybe instead of providing distance, you should have come closer. Should have allowed Jungkook to decide whether he wanted to stay. After all, today, he experienced the worst of your powers, and he didn’t run. If anything, he moved closer.

Suddenly exhausted, you hail a cab. The driver grumbles at your wet clothes but allows you inside, and you tip him extra upon reaching your place. What you should do is find another laundromat and finish your load, but there’s an itch in your fingers you haven’t felt in some time.

Dropping your hamper at the door, you shutter yourself within the third bedroom. Not allowing yourself to second-guess, you sit down at your easel and pick up a brush.

For the first time in a long time, you allow the magic to flow. You paint.

Author’s Note: thank you for reading so far! Continued in Part II, here.

#bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts au #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Daddy Issues

older rockstar eddie x band mates daughter fem!reader

summary: you finally get to see corroded coffin live, and you really want to fuck the lead singer/guitarist, the only thing is he’s your dads best friend and your dad is the bassist.

⚠️warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, pictures are purely for aesthetic purposes, mentions of alcoholism, little mention of eddies past drug abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, age gap (reader is 21, eddie is in his 50s), dom eddie, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, spit play, cream pie, daddy kink, eddie and reader are bi.

A/N: another one shot, I actually enjoy writing these. Let me know what you think, I’m not sure whether I like this or not but, fuck it! It was fun to write.

It’s been four years since your dad became the bassist for corroded coffin, when he got the call after his audition you were already packing your things up for college—being accepted into Perdue university majoring in psychology.

You and your dad had a rocky relationship almost all of your life. He was an alcoholic and chronic womanizer, he cheated on your mom and every other woman that gave him the time of day—of course you loved him, but there were just too many things said and done that could never be taken back. He lived the rockstar lifestyle in every sense of the word for as long as you could remember, even being kicked out of bands for his rowdy behavior—so it was an utter miracle when he finally decided to go to rehab and get help, that was two years before he started touring with corroded coffin— now he’s completely changed his life around, which you couldn’t be more happy about. Since, he’s gotten extremely close to his band mate Eddie who is the guitarist and lead singer —they’ve apparently become best friends, Eddie even helping your dad with his sobriety since he had a drug problem years back, almost acting as his sponsor and trying to sway him from going back to that life as often as he could. You’ve never been able to meet any of the guys but you’ve watched some of their interviews during long nights of studying and have said hi through FaceTime calls, on occasion—you might have also developed a mini crush on the guitarist, but you’d never admit that.

After finally graduating college and returning home, you’ve been staying with your dad and his new wife Catherine—until you can fully get on your feet. Things have been great, but trying to hook up with men and women in your fathers house is just weird, even though he allows you your privacy and tries not to ask questions. In college you weren’t really the hook up type—you focused more on your studies, you may or may not have been fucking your English professor on the side, but we’re not gonna get into that.

It’s a lovely Friday afternoon when you get a FaceTime call from your dad, he’s been out of town for a couple weeks touring surrounding cities, and he has a show tomorrow night in town.

“Hello?” You say raising the phone to your face

“Hey, angel” your dad says—you can hear loud instruments in the background so they must be doing sound check

“Hey, dad what’s up?” You say with a sweet smile

“Just missed you kiddo, wanted to call and check in” he says warmly

“Miss you too, how’s tour?” You question

“Tours good, as good as it can be, now.” he says with a chuckle

You giggle back, knowing exactly what he means.

“Hey, listen angel, would you want to come to our show tomorrow night? Meet the guys and hangout backstage?” He questions with hopeful eyes

“Yeah, of course I’d love to!” You answer back with a big smile

“Okay, cool. I’ll put your name down on the list, when you get here just give it to them and they’ll bring you backstage” he says with excitement

“Cool, can’t wait! I’ll see you tomorrow then, be safe dad” you say shooting him one last smile

“Bye angel, see you tomorrow” he says before hanging up

As the day goes on and rolls into the next, you start getting ready for the show. You’re excited to see your dad—but you can’t lie to yourself, you’re really excited to see the sexy guitarist/lead singer, so of course you’re going to dress to impress— not that you have a chance, but a girl can dream

You have an hour before the show starts, you took forever to get ready perfecting your makeup and hair— you decide to wear your white corroded coffin shirt your dad sent you awhile back tucked into a plaid mini skirt, socks and your low platform doc martens. Finally you climb into your little Prius and head out to the show.

When you arrive it’s packed, the line is almost down the street, and there’s hints of weed smoke in the air. You walk up to the entrance door and give your name to the gentleman wearing a headset— as you give him your name, he says something into it and then ushers you off to head backstage.

You finally get backstage after pushing your way through a crowd— your dad spots you before you get the chance to look around, calling out to you with his hands cupped around his mouth, as you see him you smile and saunter over to him.

“Angel, I’m so happy you made it” he says as he fidgets around— he always gets nervous before a show no matter how many he’s played

He leans in and gives you a hug while kissing the top of your head— “of course I made it” you say as you both pull away

“I want to officially introduce you to the guys, let me find them first” he says

“It’s okay dad, just wait until after the show” you insist — “actually, where can I find a bathroom?” You ask

After your dad directs you to the nearest restroom you begin your quest but quickly get lost, you come across a couple red doors, as you’re walking down the hall one of them swings open and you come face to face with Eddie Munson, the man that has been haunting your dreams for 4 years, he walks out with a pretty blonde girl but she continues walking back to the crowd.

“Well hello,” he says with a smile — “you lost?” He asks

“Oh uh, no no I’m not lost” is all you’re able to stutter out

“You sure?” He says with curious eyes “pretty girl like you shouldn’t be back here, alone.” he says with a smirk

“Yeah,” you say clearing your throat “I’m not lost, I’m actually looking for the restroom” you say with pink tinted cheeks matching those of a cherub

Eddie’s eyes trail all over your body and back to your face as he licks his lips “I’m Matt’s daughter, y/n” you spit out as you hold out your hand. Fuck, why did you say that? He’s not gonna want you, after learning you’re his best friends, daughter.

“Oh, shit. Um, hi nice to meet you,” he says as he shakes your hand

“I gotta head back, we’re about to go on stage.” he says as he does his best to avoid looking at any other part of your body

“Ok” is all you can say, tone laced in disappointment

After you head to the backstage area, you decide to watch your dad and Eddie play from the side stage. The show is amazing, the crowd is crazy; with crowd surfers and pits, the whole band looks totally in their element, like they all really love what they do, which warmed your heart.

After the second encore is over, the guys clamber backstage, sweaty and out of breathe. Your dad picks you up and swings your body around, still buzzing off the high from performing, placing you down. He starts to call out to his band mates

“Guys, guys” he says as he waves his hands around. “this is my daughter, y/n. Y/n, these are the guys: Eddie, Gareth and Jeff” he says as he points to each individually

They all say “hi” in unison with a wave. All, except Eddie.

You wave back as you let out a shy “hi”

As you continue with your night, hanging out with your dad and the guys backstage. Some talks of going to a bar come up, and obviously your dad declines per suggested by Eddie. You see how close, him and your dad are. Laughing at only jokes they understood and silently talking with their eyes. You’ve never known your dad to keep friendships or relationships for that matter, so it was refreshing to see.

Your dad comes up to you to bid you a goodbye. He says that he needs to go home to see his wife and avoid all this temptation, you and Eddie chuckle at that.

“Well, I’ll go with you.” you say to him

“No, no. You stay here, hang out, get to know the guys, have fun, angel” he says as he heads towards the exit.

As the night went on you talked a lot with Gareth and Jeff about your dad, touring and how corroded coffin started. They were older and married so there were surprisingly no groupies backstage like you normally picture at a metal show. Eddie wasn’t married but he was trying to cut back on his sexual appetite of both men and women alike. He had his fare share of hook ups, and by fare share you mean he’s had a lot of sex and a lot of different partners all over the world since the 90s. But, as much as eddie was trying to control his “appetite” he couldn’t help but secretly sneak looks at you and your hot little body. Fuck, if you were both around the same age and you had come to one of his shows in the 90s, he would’ve definitely snatched you out of the crowd. He couldn’t deny your beauty, you must’ve gotten that from your mom, he thinks to himself.

Gareth and Jeff both head to the bar with their manager to have a couple drinks, while you and Eddie decline. As they leave Eddie whispers out a “fuck” while looking at his phone.

“You okay?” You ask

He looks up from his phone, as his jaw clenches.

“Uber keeps canceling” he says through gritted teeth

“Where are you headed? I drove here, I can just drop you off where you need to go.” you offer sweetly

“You sure?” He says with his eyebrows raised and eyes wide

“Yeah of course, I’m parked just over here.” you say as you head to the car park. You glance back to check if he’s following behind, as you do he shoots you a little side smile

You press the button on your keys unlocking the doors and before you can even get to it, Eddie is racing around to open it for you.

“It’s the least I can do” he says sending you a wink, that almost made your knees buckle. He gets in and after putting his hotel address in the maps app on your phone, you and him get to talking, laughing and maybe even a little flirting, if you’re reading it correctly, It’s almost like you both had known each other in a past life. You’ve never understood, why people say cheesy shit like that but woah, now you do.

Eddie can’t help but look at you when you talk, he’s enamored by your beauty and how eloquently you carry yourself, but you’re also witty and sarcastic, which he loves. You kind of remind him of himself just way prettier with an almost old soul maturity, he’s never had

As you pull up to his hotel, you don’t want to say goodbye, you wish you had the balls to ask if you could hang out more with him, but that might be weird considering you’re his friend/band mates daughter, and if your dad ever found out you were hanging out with Eddie one on one in his hotel, who knows how he’d react, your dad was kind of a loose canon in that way.

Suddenly Eddie’s voice broke you out of your all consuming thoughts—“do you want to uh, come up? I have a bottle of wine I don’t wanna finish alone” he says with a smile and the most adorable puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen

“Um” you says as you stare at your dash board “yeah, shit why not?” You say as you smile back, you park into one of the open spots and head up to Eddie’s hotel room.

Once inside he tells you to get comfortable, and says you can sit or lay on the bed if you’d like, so you choose the latter— you toe off your docs and crawl onto the king sized bed, plopping your head against the fluffy pillow—as you lay there your eyes follow Eddie around the room, his pants hanging low on his hips, shirt hiked up a bit from him rubbing his hand underneath it, he grabs two glasses and the bottle of wine out of the small fridge and walks back to the bed setting them down on the nightstand— “I’m gonna take a quick shower, is that okay? Like five minutes I just want to rinse off” he says — “be my guest” you say as you gesture towards the bathroom, making him smile

He wasn’t lying when he said five minutes because once you heard the shower stop you looked at the time on your phone and it had been exactly five minutes—butterflies began erupting in the pit of your stomach, you’re alone with this man you have fantasied about for years, thinking those thoughts would never come to fruition, since the whole situation was completely taboo—but holy shit here you are in his hotel room alone with him, if you wanted to make a move you totally could.

Eddie walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his hips water droplets adorning his skin, holy fuck was all you could think as you gawked at him from your place on the bed

“You like what you see?” He says to you with a devious smirk

“I do” you accidentally blurt out, cherub cheeks returning from earlier

“Oh?” Eddie says with his eyebrows raised “is that right?” His tone becoming increasingly more sexy and almost dark

At this point you’re so turned on you say “fuck it” and decide to indulge in his little game, hoping the prize is his dick buried deep inside of you by the end “mhmm I do, Eddie” you say as you bite your lip—that’s the first time you’ve said his name all night and it made his dick twitch, well that and that sexy fucking look on your face—he can’t hold back any longer, he knew what he was doing inviting you up, but he held out hope that he could be strong and just have a little night cap with a friend who he’s instantly clicked with, but Eddies not as strong as he thought he was.

“Watch out baby, not sure you know what you’re asking for, there” he says with a pleased look on his face — “Eddie I’m a grown woman, I know exactly what I’m asking for” you challenge back with a raised eyebrow -oh you were good- he thought to himself

“You sure that’s what you want, princess?” He asks eyes almost as eager as yours—the pet name made your pussy flutter

“Yes, Eddie I want you, please?” You say with innocent eyes as he’s walking up to the side of the bed you’re sitting on, the wine on the nightstand completely forgotten about

“Mmm, not sure you can handle me, baby” he says back with a shit eating grin

“Well then I guess your gunna have to stretch my tight little pussy out so I can, handle you” you shoot back with a smile matching his—Eddie’s face instantly dropping into a look of hunger that made a chill run down your spine, and made your heart speed up

As his thighs hit the side of the bed, you get up on your knees and crawled over to him, he reaches out grabbing your lower back and pulling you flush against his body— but instead of kissing you like you expected, he reaches to put some hair behind your ear as he whispers out a “so beautiful” that made your eyes slightly water—growing up you never heard words of affirmation, like that and now every time you did, it made you want to cry

“Thank you” you whisper back with a wobbly voice

Eddie grabs your chin and brings your eyes up to look at his—“you okay, sweet thing?” He asks and you nod with a smile

“I really want this Eddie” you whisper back “I have for awhile”

He seems taken aback by your words as his eyes widen

“What do you mean for awhile?” He says curiously

“Ever since I watched a stupid interview of yours after my dad made the band” —- the mention of your dad, slightly making him cringe but not enough to stop

“Did you have a little crush on me, baby?” He says cockily

“I did”—“I do” you say as you correct yourself

“Aw, that’s cute, that’s real cute”—“what the boys in college not doing it for you?” He teases

“I’m not interested in boys” you shoot back “I only associate with men” you say with the same eloquence he thought about in the car

“Well lucky for you baby, I’m all man” he says making you snort out a laugh at his cheesy line

He tackles you onto the bed playfully, as he kisses all over your face—this felt too perfect, like it’s something you both had been doing for years, not like you’d just met for the first time tonight

Finally he kisses your lips, giving you a few pecks before it starts to turn heavy, he slips his tongue into your mouth rubbing it against yours, he was an amazing kisser—you definitely didn’t want to think about how he’d gotten that way—but woah you’ve never gotten wet from just making out before—his hands start to roam over your body, down to your thighs, spreading them apart so he can fit between them. He breaks the kiss to look down at your spread legs—pretty red see through panties on display for him “fuck” he moans out as he notices the wet spot, just for him—“look at that baby” he whispered down to you “fucking pussies already so wet for me”—“did my kisses do that to you, baby?” He asks

“Yes, everything you do gets me so wet” you whine out

“Mmm, is that right?” — “I like the sound of that, maybe I’ll keep you, princess. Use this wet little pussy every time I come back from a show, would you like that?” — “I would, daddy, I would love that” you moan out

“Daddy?” Eddie says as his eyebrows raise into his bangs

“Shit, sorry if that’s weird” you say back tone full of embarrassment

“Ya know, it shouldn’t turn me on coming from you, but fuck, everything you do is so sexy”—-“well lucky for you I never call my dad that, it’s only reserved for someone special” you say as you bite your lip—“oh really? Special you say?” He says with a smirk—-“okay yeah, I can be your daddy, that means something different to you kids today anyway, right?” He says “I’m not a kid, but yeah exactly” you say back

Eddie begins kissing you again, this time with more passion and desire, he reaches down between your thighs rubbing over you clothed pussy—“can I take your panties off, sweet girl?” He says as his eyes bore down into yours

“Yes, please” you say in a sweet tantalizing voice

He begins ridding you of your red thong as he shoots them toward his nightstand, they land on the neck of the wine bottle and you both laugh—“I’m keeping those” eddie says to you as he brings his fingers down to your dripping sex, he gently runs his calloused finger tips over your little bundle of nerves, making you moan out—“that’s right baby, let me hear you” he whispers as he begins nipping at your neck— Eddie moves his fingers down to gather your slick and then returns back to your clit—“can I taste you, baby?” He asks sweetly

“Please Eddie, yes” you can’t help but moan out

He decides to lift up your shirt to take it off—“cute shirt by the way” he says as he pulls it off of your body and over your head, making you giggle. Once your shirts off, Eddie reaches behind your back expertly unhooking your matching red bra with one hand, letting the straps fall down around your arms, he picks it up and throws it haphazardly across the bed, landing in front of the desk on the other side of the room

He begins moving down your body, with soft calculated kisses, occasionally sucking different spots, he stops and lays in front of your most intimate area, grabbing your thighs to spread them a bit more and getting a good look at you all wet and bare before him—-he growls as he sees your pussy on display for him “fuck, you have such a pretty pussy, baby”—“bet it tastes even better” he says as he kisses the top of your mound where a little patch of dark curly hair sits, you bite your lip at the intimacy of it—-this didn’t feel like just a one night stand or random lay, it felt special— Eddie begins by licking you from your little hole to your clit finally giving it the attention it so badly wanted, you moan out as he swirls his tongue around it and then takes it into his mouth, lightly sucking—-nothing but loud moans and filthy sounds of sucking and licking fill the room—-“oh my god, Eddie yes right there, that’s so good, daddy” you borderline scream out—god this man knew how to use his tongue, he was incredible.

He continues to lick and suck as he brings two fingers to your entrance, he gently pushes them inside of you stretching you out for what’s about to come, your moans get louder and he can’t help but smile—your moans sound like the best song he’s ever heard, he wants to hear them over and over again forever

Once he curls his fingers up and hits that spot deep inside that you were never able to reach, the coil in your belly begins to tighten and your legs shake as your hand reaches down to tangle in his hair—“that’s it baby, cum for me, cum for daddy” he says pulling you over the edge, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, you grip his hair and mewl out obscenities—- after you’ve fully come down from your high, Eddie moves up your body, You can feel the hardness rubbing up against your overstimulated sex, you grab the towel around his waist and rip it off as you look down waiting to see the dick you’ve had wet dreams about, it springs out all pretty and pink, thick and curved, pre cum oozing from the tip, it twitches a couple times and all you can think about is having it buried deep inside your throat—“can I please suck your cock?” You ask up at him with puppy dog eyes, silently begging and Eddie can’t believe how such filthy words could come out such a beautifully, innocent looking face—but it makes him growl, makes another side of him, he didn’t want to show you, come out.

“Get on your knees on the floor, now” he demands, change of voice throwing you off

“Now, don’t make me say it again!” he growls back — “yes, daddy” you say as you hop off the bed and fall down to your knees in front of his leaking tip “open up wide” he says, voice laced in desperation, you open your mouth as wide as you can while sticking your tongue out—“good girl, that’s a good fucking girl, you take direction so good baby” he says “good girls get rewarded, okay? So keep listening to daddy and he’ll take care of you, understand?” He says, you nod as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock

He grabs your hair and pulls your head back while he bends down to get in your face “nope, I need words baby” he says through gritted teeth “yes, daddy” you whimper out in shock at his behavior, no one has ever been this rough with you but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your pussy gush, you were loving this—“that’s it, good girl, open that mouth up wide again for me, sweetheart” he says—you open up and stick your tongue back out, Eddie let’s a glob of spit fall right onto it, making you moan out—-fuck this man was gunna be the death of you, you didn’t know you could get this turned on from such filthy acts you only seen done in porn—but here you are wetness dripping down your thighs from how worked up you’re getting

You leave Eddie’s spit on your tongue as he begins to work his cock into your mouth, spit mixing with yours to make the tip and base extra wet, he bucks his hips hitting your throat, you breath through your nose and take him to the hilt, eyes watering and jaw tingling— “that’s it, that’s a good girl” — “fuck baby that mouth of yours is amazing” he says as he begins moving in and out of your mouth. He moans out your name and a couple fucks as he gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail, guiding you up and down on his cock continuously hitting the back of your throat—finally he lifts you up and off of him back up to your feet. Your lips and chin filled with spit and pre cum, cheeks and eyes filled with tears—“fuck you’re so pretty, baby, look so fucking pretty for me” he says as he kisses your lips, backing you up until your legs hit the bed and guiding you to lay down as he grabs and spreads your thighs, he gets down into your face as he asks “are you ready, sweet girl?”

“Yes, yes I’m ready please” you respond with a whine

“Whatever princess wants” he said with a gentle smile, a complete 360 to how he was just treating you earlier, but you didn’t care, you really liked both sides of him

He begins to line himself up with your entrance, cock still wet with your spit, as he pushes in, you can feel yourself stretching for him, but it felt so good, so full. “Oh my god, yes! Don’t stop please” you moan out “I know baby I know, i won’t stop, I won’t fucking stop” he says as he begins thrusting deeper and faster inside you, he brings his forehead down to yours as you both moan into each others mouths—-this wasn’t fucking, this felt like love making and so different from any sex you’ve ever had—-it felt intimate and sensual, like Eddie fit your body like a missing puzzle piece

“Oh fuck, baby, your pussies so tight, it feels so good, so good”… he continued repeating

Your belly filling with that familiar burn as your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, your pussy tightening around his cock even more, making him moan out—“fuckin pussy just milking my cock, where do you want it baby?” He says as he bites his lip “inside me please, please cum inside me daddy” you grunt out “fuck, fuck I’m cumming!” He shouts as white spurts paint your insides.

Eddie falls on top of you, kissing all over your face again, making you laugh—“I’ll be right back” he says, after a couple minutes he’s coming back to clean up his mess between your thighs. You move back to your place on the pillow as Eddie lays beside you, pulling you into his chest “that was”…”wow” he says —-“yeah” you say back, you both laid there in silence staring up at the ceiling

-fuck I’m in trouble- Eddie thought to himself

THANK YOU FOR READING! 💗

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x y/n

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bella-goths-wife · 22 days

Note

How do the Vees react to their pet playing favorites? Like, one moment they like Vox the most but next Velvette is the favorite?

How would the Vs react to pet playing favourites?

Warnings: abuse, Valentino, SA mentions, punishments but not specified

Vox:

I feel like Vox would be your favourite just by default

Favourite is used very loosely here, it’s more like he’s probably the one you could stand to be around for longer periods of time

And Vox already thinks he’s your favourite because he’s your main provider and soul owner, so he just assumes

But if you were to be outwardly showing favouritism to him then I think you’d gain a few more privileges then normal

Like if you started asking to schedule to work with him more, started being more receptive to his affection and you started asking to do stuff with him then he’d definitely be more open to letting you break rules

So he’d buy you more gifts or if he was especially pleased he’d take you with him to club openings or restaurants, just generally get you out the tower more and doing more things that a normal person would

He’d even let you drink or do certain substances, but he has to be around you to supervise

You’d just generally be allowed to get away with more, if you kept it going for at least a year you’d be able to score the ability to leave the tower by yourself

You’d have his drone following you around but you don’t need to know that

But if he saw you showing favouritism towards the other Vs then he’d be outraged

You made a deal with him, not them!

He’d give your leash an extra tug to show you who you belong to as a warning but if you still show favouritism to the others then he’s upping your workload and stealing you away from the other two on their days

Hes probably the best one to have as a favourite since he can gain you the most privileges and you could probably play into the daughter thing to manipulate him

Start calling him dad and your getting loads of perks, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you

Velvette:

If you started having velvette as your favourite, it would be a massive ego boost for her

She’s always been jealous that Vox was the one to find you first and made a deal with you

It just wasn’t fair, she wanted to own you and have Vox pushed into her position of having to ask permission all the time

But if you started requesting to work more stuff with her or you just request to be in her presence more then she’ll feel like she’s high on an ego boost

Bonus points if you do it in front of Vox

If you started acting like velvette was your favourite then she’d be much less cruel to you and insult you less

She’d ask (demand) for you to hang out with her but it would give off vibes of an older sister asking a younger sister to hangout in a super awkward way

She’d take you to fashion shows and she’d invest more time into making you clothes that flatter you and would even dress you in a style that makes you comfortable

She’d also take you to parties, but she can’t allow you to drink since she needs voxs permission

She’d definitely sneak you drinks behind his back though

She’d sit with you in the mornings and do your hair and makeup and would commit to it no matter how early she has to wake up

It’d be almost sweet if she wasn’t complaining all the time

She’d still be semi cruel to you and would still punish you but at least now you’d have softer moments to look forward to

She’d even call out Valentino for his inappropriate behaviour, not that much but enough to make sure he’s not doing it when she’s in the room

But if she saw you favouring the other two instead of her she would not be happy

She’d be less upset then Vox because you mean less to her then you mean to Vox, but she’d still be angry

She’d mock you more and insult you all the time while your working for her, and she’ll give you an impossible workload

She’ll also make you abuse your power to the point that your tired and overworked and exhausted

She’d also be way quicker to punish you for the tiniest things

So it’s best not to show outward favouritism to any one in front of her

Valentino:

You’d probably never ever ever ever choose to have Valentino as your favourite

He’s just so… him

But let’s say in some kind of delusional state you choose to show favouritism towards Valentino

He wouldn’t offer you very many perks if I’m being honest, he’d give you some gifts but they wouldn’t be stuff that you really enjoy because he doesn’t know you enough to know what you enjoy

He’d be more respectful of your boundaries if you showed outward favouritism to him since it would humanise you more in his eyes

But as I’ve established in previous fics, humanising you only makes Valentino aware of his actions and he hates that

So he may actually push you away if you start to bond with him

You’d see a more vulnerable side to him but that’s not always a good thing

You’d see him sob after his drug induced panics or his come down but you’d also see him angry and screaming in your face because something small inconvenienced him

All it would do is make you feel more scared of him for different reasons

You used to be scared of him because of how uncomfortable he made you, now your scared your gonna be pulled into a room with him any moment and he forced to comfort him from his sobbing or his angry rants

It would make you closer to angel dust though, since Valentino would “want his two favourite people to spend time with him”

You’d be able to have a public friendship with angel dust which would be nice if it didn’t put him at threat of Vox or velvette

You two would wait until Valentino passes out from drinking and then you’d both gossip and chat until he woke up

If you showed favouritism towards the other two then Valentino wouldn’t really care

Sure he’s obsessed with you but it’s in the same way he’d be obsessed with one of his favourite guns or toys, so he can share you with friends and not others

He just wouldn’t care because he doesn’t care for you very much

He also knows that there is nothing he can do since the other two would challenge him on his behaviour if he started acting worse to you

He’d be a bit peeved if it took your attention from him for too long so he would punish you but it’d be a minor one at best and all you’d have to do is spend a day stroking his ego

We all know that deep down angel dust is your favourite in every scenario :)

Tag list:

@the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @buttercupfangirl @sparkleyfishies @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @repostingmyfavs @idontreallyexistyet @perkypeony @aroomofmyown24 @hazbinhotelxreader @ivebeenthearchersstuff

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theoddest1 · 3 months

Text

Okay so this new episode that came out (Episode 4) was poorly handled.

TW /// SA

- No warning before the show starts...why? And even if there is no way for Viv to add one, for some stupid ass reason, why didn't she announce to the fandom properly "Hey, this will have very deep topics and imagery that may not be suitable for all audiences."? Why have arguments on threads and fail to do this very easy thing. At least if the episode came out, people would get a heads up, and the word would spread faster PLUS people would see that you at least TRIED

- The episode opens up with a scene of CNC porno played for laughs in an episode that tackles SA. Complete tonal whiplash. Why did it have to open up with Angel showing everyone a porno? It serves no purpose other than to get a cheap laugh (that never came) out of me or anyone else who watches and because of the topic of the episode revolved around it. I'msure that if the episode WASN'T ABOUT SA, that joke would not have been there....but it is. There was legit no good reason to start this fiasco off with such a tone deaf opening.

- Charlie is actually fucking useless and a burden in this episode, serving no other purpose other than being the gateway to further the issues that befall Angel when "trying" to help. This all screams forced. Worse of all, Charlie does nothing to actually HELP Angel out of this, even though he has a clear black eye thanks to it all and literal mirrors breaking as a result of the abuse. We never see an actual development between the two thanks to her foolishness and garbage writing, and it's resolved easily as if this is some early Disney cartoon season that's on a strict deadline. Regardless of whether she apologized or not, she essentially caused the issue and did NOTHING to actually clean her mess. The goddamn B A R T E N D E R had to be used to salvage the pieces. So far, Charlie, as a character, is utterly pathetic and has been a burden to the cast twice so far. Vaggie, who tried to prove herself (moreso Vaggie's fault for going the extra mile for no reason but an obstacle nonetheless), also had an issue that involved Charlie's utter lack of a backbone. Hey, what was it that Charlie said in the pilot that her dad taught her and one of the only thingsshe learned from him? "You don't take shit from other demons"

- Only one scene from the abuse shown was handled well, and it was when Charlie visited, screwed everything up, and Val asked Angel to come to his dressing room. Aside from that, the whole SA imagery is jarring. While this time, the fast pace of it all is not bad, the quick shift into it all with Angel switching from enjoying to hating, to smiling, to frowning, ALONG with the quick pace of it all with the PRIOR KNOWLEDGE SHOWN and the SONG PLAYING, I am getting mixed messages here. Imagery? Shows Angel getting assaulted multiple times with either a forced smile or for some reason ENJOYING sex with Val and the role play situations showcased, is he INTO his abuse? Lyrics? He seems to find arousal in Val controlling him. The song legit reads as follows

"Addicted to this feeling, I can't help but swallow"

This doesn't read like he is "forced" it reads like he is yearning the toxic relationship. Now if this was one of the main issues with the abusive relationship, where it was a codependency built on romanticising the abuser and Angel learning to break free from that horrible view of someone who never loved him and actively harms him, this lyric would make a lot of sense....but that's not what we are shown at all. From the jump, we are shown that Angel HATES being with Val, to the point of him straight up avoiding his texts and voice messages, they actually do an okay job (despite the shoddy voice work) on showcasing how manipulative Val is and his outright explosive temper through this scene in episode 2. We see that Angel does NOT wanna have association with Val, is tired of it all, and even got drunk to down his sorrows. Yet these lyrics present it all as though it's just a very rocky love life like those songs you hear on the radio with the singer lamenting about how awful their relationship was but still miss their toxic boo-boo. It just...doesn't read like an SA song and could mean anything regarding the type of abuse he is facing. It's kinda vague in hindsight. That's MY take on the lyrics, though.

- Husk's song is a trash fire. He sees Angel is down in the dumps and proceeds to talk shit about him pretty much relaying his sorrows, saying it's okay to feed into your vices, and downplaying the actual situation at hand. So let's get this straight.

Angel- A sexual abuse victim forced into sex slavery to appease all sorts of people's sexual desires whether he likes it or not, including pleasuring his pimp who physically abuses him often all cause he sold his soul

Husk- Gambled his life away and lost his title as overlord, serves under Alastor all cause he sold his soul.

How is this even...the same at all? Even if Husk is lacking some context, he SEES that Angel normalized drinking roofied drinks and works for Val SOMEONE HUSK SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AND WHAT HE DOES but nah, screw Angel. Even if he honest to God (irony) wanted to actually help, why tf would Husk think this was sound advice? Why does Husk just SUDDENLY care? No build up, no memorable dynamic, no nothing. Realistically, CHARLIE should be the one singing with Angel or maybe Vaggie because she heard the story from Charlie. Not Husk. He is self aware enough where he knows this "advice" wouldn't work but nah. Nothing about the song makes sense. Telling someone going through it that "you're a loser" pretty much a no one, an insignificant individual, when VAL has made it clear that Angel would be nothing without him...yeah no the only reason why this whole song "worked" was cause the writers wanted it to, so Angel is happy with being a loser for being a victim of SA and selling his soul to someone who abuses him in various ways consistently.

This episode is terrible

Jarring for any newcomers

Who have no idea who these characters are

#vivziepop critical #hazbin critical #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel husk #vivziepop criticism

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tyunzonlystar · 3 months

Text

Bike ride (10:06pm)

Warnings! Sub!beomgyu, virgin!beomgyu, big dick!beomgyu, dom!reader, nipple play (gyu rec), strangers to ???, mentions of abusive parents, cuts nd bruises (injuries not sh), making out, pet names (pretty boy, mommy, baby, good boy, beomie, gyu) mommy kink, dick sucking? And unprotected sex (please use protection!)

word count: 1391

summary: Beomgyu snuck out his house to go on a bike ride and ends up falling off! :( but luckily you helped him..

smut under the cut!! MDNI‼️

You left your house about 20 minutes ago and decide to walk to the beachside a few minutes away from your apartment. As you were walking this boy kept riding past you until he fell off! You quickly run over to him and crouch next to him.

“Oh my god are you okay?” You asked him even though he now had cuts and bruises on his body

“Yeah im fine” he tried to move his bike off him “could you please help?”

You nod your head and move his bike off him and help him up

“Hey im y/n i live a few blocks from here so i can help clean you up if obviously you wanted?”

He looked at you and smiled “really?”

“Yes”

“Your not gonna hurt me for like annoying your walk that was meant to be peaceful?”

“What? Of course not! I just wanna help you and then you can go home” you explained to him now having a bit of suspension on why he thought you were gonna hurt him so you decide to ask him as you two start walking back to your apartment.

“Hey i was wondering why you thought i was gonna hurt you? If anything is going on at home with whoever you live with you can talk to me or anything.. but you dont have to if you dont want to”

The boy looked at you and nods his head to say he listened and appreciated your words

“Uhm i come out on my bike quite often at night when my family is asleep and i sneak out and come here often..”

“Ohh so like its an escape for you then?”

“Yeah i uh guess?”

Soon enough you get to your apartment complex and you open the door and let him in first and then you walk towards the elevator and press floor 8.

“Sorry you couldnt bring your bike in here.. but don’t worry the receptionist will keep it safe!”

The boy laughs a little as the elevator dings signalling your at floor 8. You walk out the elevator and the boy follows behind you as you walk to your apartment

“My apartment is kinda big and theres a spare bedroom incase you cant get home..”

“Thank you y/n you dont know how much this means to me..” He says just above a whisper. You make you way to your bedroom and grab your first aid kit

“Hey i never got your name..?”

“Beomgyu”

“Thats a pretty name for a pretty boy. Anyway sit down here” You pat a chair next to you and Beomgyu sits down with light blush covering his face from your complement. You open the kit and take out a antibiotic wipe and gently clean his cuts while he hisses in pain.

“Shit.. ouch” He mumbles

“Sorry..”

You finish cleaning his cuts and bruises and bandage them up

“Its 11pm and i dont want you riding home alone and my car is broke.. would your family mind if you slept here just for tonight?” You asked him

“Mm no they wouldnt mind..”

You nod your head

“You can sleep in the spare bedroom but if you need me or anything you can come in my room”

Beomgyu smiles down at you on your knees and thanks you before asking another question…

“Could i sit on your bed uhm with you and we can just talk?”

“Yeah if you wanted i dont mind!”

“Really?” He asked surprised you didnt shout at him for wanting to be in your bed. You get off your knees and put the bloody tissues in the bin and put away the first aid kit and get on your bed and pt the space next to you. Beomgyu stands up and sits on your bed

“Y/n?”

“Yesss?”

“Can i tell you something?”

“Yes”

“I was on my bike earlier cuz i wanted to escape from my family.. i can’t remember if i told you.. but i wanted to escape from them because they uh abuse me.. so some of the bruises you saw were from my dad as he doesn’t support what i do..”

“Oh well what do you do?”

“I play the guitar and livestream it and he doesn’t support me playing music.. it’s because he doesnt want me to make more money than him since he gets really bad pay days like he doesnt get alot of money and my mom she pays for the bills and my dad uses her but my mom also abuses me but she does it mentally.. and earlier today my dad smashed my guitar while i was livestreaming…”

You nod your head and listen to him carefully..

“Im so sorry thats happened to you Beomgyu and im thankful you trust me to tell me considering we met a few hours ago..”

He smiles and nods his head.

A few hours go by and you dont know how you got onto the topics of your sex like but you did and beomgyu kept a pillow on his lap.. you knew why but didnt say anything until the question came around..

“Are you a virgin?” You asked him and he shuffled slightly as he face went a crimson red as he slowly nodded and soon enough you found yourself on his lap heavily making out with him as you slowly grinded down on his lap.. He whimpered.

“Holy shit..” you thought growing wetter at his moans and noises.

You run your fingers through his long oreo hair and pull away from the kiss

“Are you sure you want this? I mean your a virgin and we dont know eachother super well..”

He eagerly nodded his head

“Okay Gyu if its what you want” you shrug as you sit between his legs and pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees and his thick long veiny cock hit his stomach.

“Jeez baby your huge” you say as you watch the pre-cum drip down his shaft.

“Ready pretty boy?”

“P-please!”

You took that as a yes and kitten licked his tip before taking little by little in your mouth slowly bobbing your head up and down while jerking the rest you couldnt fit in your mouth

“Y-y/n! Fuck fuck fuck!” He whined loudly as he gripped onto your hair

“‘m gonna c-cum.. please let me mommy” his whimpers bounced off the walls of your bedroom as your hands reach up and rub his nipples as he chanted your name like it was a ritual as he came in your mouth and of course! You swallowed.. you dont want his cum going to waste did you?

“M-mommy want your p-pussy..”

“What do we say when we want something baby?”

“P-please”

“Good boy”

You get of the bed and shimmy your pj pants off and let Beomgyu tale your panties off

“Go on take them off for mommy”

His hands slowly took your panties off and he threw them on the floor as you hovered above his cock

“Ready?”

He nodded once again as you slowly sank down on him. You stopped halfway to try get used to him stretching you out and a few seconds later you took him all in your gummy walls.

“Hnng.. f-feels so good..” He moans as you start bouncing on his thick girthy cock

“Doing so well for me Beomie.. so pretty.. fuckkk!” You praised as he hit your sweet spot

At this point the only noises were skin slapping and both of your moans and whimpers

“G-gonna cum” Beomgyu whimpers as he bucks his hips to meet yours

“Cum for me baby” you whisper in his eat as you kiss his neck and leave nasty dark purple splotches on his neck and collarbones. He bucks his hips up to meet yours one last time before he releases his hot load into you and soon after you cream on him and collapse on top of him

“Did so well for me.. im surprised your a virgin with that cock” i laugh and he laughs back

“Ill get towels then you can shower and we can go bed” you say as you get off his cream covered dick and go get warm towels to clean the both of you up..

After your both are cleaned up and in comfy clothes you two fall asleep cuddling….

do not steal, copy, translate!

feel free to reblog my lovelies!

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #yuri writes!!#choi beomgyu #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts

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jaevie · 5 months

Text

Wrong Hands

Pairing: bodyguard!Jaehyun x mafia(afab)!reader

Genre: Yandere vibes, smut, kind of angsty sometimes.

Word count: 6.3k

Summary: When your father arranges your marriage to a mafia heir, your bodyguard, who has been in love with you since you were kids, isn't letting you fall into the wrong hands.

Warnings: Consensual non-consent, kidnapping, knife play, shibari, fingering, humiliation/degradation, dirty talking, oral (female receiving), little blood play, abdomen riding, unprotected sex. This fic also contains mentions of death and drug abuse.

N/A: One more for the list, and another that came out before expected. And even though I did some proofread, it was not perfect. Enjoy it!

The color of the sky was a dusky purple that matched your satin lilac dress. There was a delicate daisy behind the shell of your ear, that a boy had personally put. Your hands were on his cheeks, small, innocent and gentle. Your lips tasted like vanilla ice cream, irises reflecting gold under the last rays of sunlight when you kissed him.

He had never been kissed before.

“You taste wet,” you hummed, making the boy chuckle.

“Do you like it?”

“I dunno. Let me check again.”

You placed another peck on his mouth, taking the chance to lick his lower lip, and retracted with a lovely laugh.

A laugh Jaehyun still remembered, twenty years ago, as he kept watch on your bedroom door.

You two were six, avid children with curiosity in their bellies, exploring the fields at your family’s countryside manor as Jaehyun’s father did what he knew best: look after your mother. His dad had profoundly apologized for bringing his kid on your family trip - because his mother could not stay home with him -, but your mom kindly dismissed his guilt, telling the bodyguard that Jaehyun was not only welcomed, but invited and allowed to play with her daughter.

At the occasion, his father had looked at him like a warning. “Be good to miss Y/L/N, Jaehyunnie, will you?”

Jaehyun nodded. All he ever wanted was to be good to you.

No one knew. No one knew you ran the fields until your legs burned and exchanged loving pecks when you were too tired to play.

It was when Jaehyun realized there was nothing else he would rather do than to be your personal bodyguard, dedicating his nights and days to make sure you were safe and sound. Pay you the doubt of the endless joy you brought him whenever his mom went missing from rehab. So he fought, tooth and nail, to gain your dad’s trust and get hired. He fought with his heart, eternally devoted to you. It was in his blood, after all.

He blamed it on your laugh. A laugh that made the world warmer, as though Jaehyun was not scared of his father’s occupation, of the risk he took in order to protect your mom. A laugh that made him oblivious of the constant sadness that filled his soul, leaving no space for nothing else, when his mom broke the house down because her drug abstinence was playing her sanity.

You made the world loving. You were his most precious being.

He was pulled out of the depths of his reminiscences when you opened the door, coming out as beautifully as always, in a lean black suit and your hair free, rebellious, smelling like the vanilla he tasted on his lips decades ago.

You stopped on your tracks, looking down at a bag that was placed by your door, right next to Jaehyun’s polished shoes.

“Another mysterious gift from my secret admirer?” you smirked. Someone had been leaving you indecent gifts for a couple of months: ridiculously short dresses, several styles of lingerie, and an interesting variety of sex toys that had been making your legs weak. Dildos, vibrators, anal plugs and other different inventions that had you cumming alone in your bed, all while your handsome bodyguard listened to your moans outside.

You both knew who your secret admirer was.

“He’s been creative lately, it seems,” Jaehyun breathed nonchalantly.

“What is it this time?” you made a move to kneel, but Jaehyun was quicker than you, politely handing the bag over.

Ideally, he always went through the bags’ content to make sure nothing harmful would get to you. Not that he needed it. It was just for the sake of appearances.

You grabbed a cute, pink clitoral suction toy and matching nipple clamps shaped as daisies. “Lovely,” you praised, knowing Jaehyun decided to go symbolic this time. “I’m truly getting spoiled.”

“You must deserve it, miss.”

It was almost fun, how Jaehyun pretended he had nothing to do with it. Lifting your eyes to his, you smirked. Frank. Cunning. Knee shaking. “I’ve got a little something for my admirer. Can you make sure it finds him?”

Trying his best to conceal the interest in his eyes, Jaehyun nodded. You disappeared inside your room for a while, returning with a small paper bag.

“You’re the best, Jaehyun! By the way, be ready to leave in one hour. I have reminders to give downtown.”

“Mr. Ash again?” He guessed, as though he did not care for the bag that was, now, in his hand.

“Exactly. Gotta teach him a lesson.”

“Don’t forget you have a family dinner later.”

“What would I do without you?” you chuckled. “Alright, see you in a bit.”

Once Jaehyun was alone in the manor room reserved for his resting hours, he removed a tiny and rosy thong from the bag, one he had bought you a week ago. It rested against his gloved hand, small, adorable. Soaked. Fuck, it was still wet with your pussy juices, something Jaehyun had always fantasized, wondering how they tasted like.

He didn’t hold back. Why, when he could bury his nose in the soft cotton fabric? Why, when his tongue could stick out to finally get a taste of your anticipated flavor? No, there was no need to hold back. It was your gift. You had freely given it to him.

Jaehyun’s senses amplified with the bittersweetness of your juices and the scandalous vanilla scent in the nearly insignificant piece of clothing that had covered your vulva minutes ago. Closing his eyes, he unzipped his pants and put his cock, red and angry, out. He fucked his fist with your panties pressed to his nose, mouth drooling where your juices were.

Quicker than anything Jaehyun had ever witnessed, your hand came down against the table surface, and Mr. Ash screamed in half surprise, half excruciating pain, as the blade of the knife buried in his open hand, dark blood running down to the floor.

Jaehyun reached for his revolver in no time, ready to pull the weapon out and shoot at any of Mr. Ash’s men who tried hurting you, although he doubted it. It took a lot of nerve to raise a hand against you.

You were the mafia lady. A true White Rose. Strong, smart, undeniable. Wealthy, merciless, with looks so stunning it added to your reputation.

Raising a hand against you was like heresy.

“Look at you, Mr. Ash, whimpering because of a knife,” you mocked daringly, holding the tension in the room with a sly chuckle. “Who’s the whore now, hm?”

You removed the knife just as smoothly, watching with a neutral look as Mr. Ash brought his bloodied hand to his chest.

“Remember your place, sir, or I won’t have a problem cutting it into you,” you warned like it took a clap of your hands to make the world stop.

Only when you turned around, Mr. Ash spoke again. “It doesn’t change a thing. You can stab, kill me for all I care, but it won’t change the fact the Red Roses are getting their share of your market. And their deals are way better than the ones you’ve been giving me for the last seven years.”

Unbeatable, you turned on your heels. “That’s just a display of your dishonesty. Anyone could have asked me for a more reasonable deal, but you decided to sell the Reds a bit of my opium. You’re lucky I stabbed your hand, not your throat.” You tilted your head in thought. “What a mess it would make, such a thick, disgusting dirty neck.”

Jaehyun took a deep breath, trying to control the emerging bulge in his pants. You… You were fucking sinister.

His thoughts were interrupted when Mr. Ash spat on the floor, his saliva glistening close to your heels. “Fuck you,” the man said, with a firm rage in his eyes.

Those were the last words he had the chance to utter. Before you opened your mouth to reply, Jaehyun had already shot. Once, twice, three times. Shots that pierced Mr. Ash’s skull, and the unfortunate throats of his men. The bodyguard put his arm around you as you walked out of the hotel room, people already starting to wonder what had happened. That part of the town belonged to the White Roses, so you did not worry about the police, or further investigations.

“Now my deal’s over,” you breathed.

“You don’t have to make deals with assholes. Traitors,” Jaehyun retorted, looking down at the small blood smudges on his black leather gloves. “He disrespected you, Y/N.”

You liked how it sounded like a sin in his mouth.

“Dad’s not going to like it.”

“Your father doesn’t like a lot of things, missy.”

“Seems like I’m telling good news over dinner,” you shrugged, laughing it off.

Family dinners were not unusual to you, nor to Jaehyun. His role was to drive you over whatever expensive ass restaurant your father had chosen, and stay by a private room door while you discussed businesses. After your mother and younger brother passings, you were the only person to inherit your father’s legacy. So he taught you well - even though Jaehyun believed you had a bolder, freakier, and way more effective way to handle things.

He followed the script. Driving you, following you closely, and staying by the door along with your father’s personal bodyguard, keeping an attentive, flawless eye on everything that happened at the surroundings as people talked, ate and drank.

The food was served: rack lamb to your dad, and, Jaehyun knew by heart, your favorite dish to you. Carbonara. Shortly after the food arrived, he listened to the sound of a chair angrily ragging the floor. Suddenly, you stormed out with the heaviest steps.

Jaehyun was at your back in no time. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, your way of telling him you were not ready to speak yet, fuming so badly smoke could leave your nostrils and ears.

Jaehyun took you back to the car and jogged to the driver’s seat. “Home?”

You shook your head again.

“Safe place?”

A simple, certain nod had Jaehyun driving smoothly away from the city’s chaos and straight into the arms of a quiet, isolated hill. The city night lights glistened like stars up there, and a nearby stream completed the melody of cicadas and gentle breeze notes. Once the car was parked, you came out, shutting the door carelessly, and jumping on the hood. Jaehyun watched how your hair moved with the wind. How your eyes were trying to find a way out for whatever situation you were in.

Even if he was curious, Jaehyun gave you time, waiting patiently until you opened your mouth.

“Dad wants me to marry Johnny Suh,” you announced, a nuclear bomb straight to Jaehyun’s head. “A marriage to assure the corporate deals between our companies, to fight the Red Roses. It’s already been arranged.”

Johnny Suh. Jaehyun remembered him. A tall figure, with a face that was hard to forget, and gentle manners. A boy born rich, spoiled, but cultured. A sweet loving man to his parents. A good student. Funny. No. Johnny Suh was not the man for you. You deserved thrilling. Temptation. Lust. You deserved someone who challenged you, someone who made your life fun, who protected your back as you conquered the world with unpredictable moves, fatal as knives. Someone who allowed you to be your freakiest self.

There was not anyone for you but Jaehyun.

“You don’t have to marry him,” your bodyguard announced, unaware of how he held his breath, how tightly his fists clenched at the idea of you marrying another man. Oh, how badly he wished to just slam his cock inside you and make you his, right then and there. How badly he wanted to make Johnny Suh bleed.

Jealousy left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You chuckled humorlessly. “Perhaps if someone kidnaps me. You know my dad. He said it was non-negotiable. Fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your face in frustration.

Lowering your hands, you instinctively searched for Jaehyun’s eyes. It ached seeing the despair around your pupils. “Can you help me, Jae? Help me find a way out? Please?”

Jaehyun stood in silence for a few seconds, but when he spoke, you felt a cold shiver running down your spine. A shiver provoked by the fatal glow in his eyes.

“I’ve been keeping unwanted hands away from you for years, miss. I intend to keep it that way.”

Two days later, you found yourself packing up for a quick getaway suggested by Jaehyun, to ease your nerves before the dinner party that was going to announce your engagement with Johnny. It was a perfect, fittable idea, as you could use some of your time in the mountains, coming up with a plan to avoid the matrimony. Your acquaintances had already taken a closer look at Johnny’s companies and deals, and as Jaehyun drove, you took notes on the backseat. Bargains, blackmailing, manipulation, perhaps an alliance with other big players in the market… Everything was a possibility. You just had to figure the details out and come up with a convincing, flawless plan.

You were not going to end up like your mother. Tied to a relationship you didn’t want. Tangled with a man you didn’t feel attracted to. Having his babies, easing his temper, keeping his bed warm. Becoming a target for his enemies to aim and shoot.

No. You were much better than that. Much more important.

Jaehyun watched your calculating expression through the rear mirror, as though he could read your mind. Little you knew there was nothing to worry about. He had already taken care of everything.

“Miss, I’ll make a quick stop for gas,” he announced. You showed you were listening with a hum.

When the car came to a stop, Jaehyun turned around. “Stretch your legs a little. We’ve been driving for four hours.”

“All that?!” your eyes widened. It felt like one hour to you.

Jaehyun smiled. “I’ll get you something to munch on.”

Accepting his suggestion, you jumped out of the car. It was nearly ten in the night, and there wasn’t anyone around but you, Jaehyun and the gas station staff. The air smelled like a spoiler for the rain, and you decided to take a walk around as Jaehyun disappeared inside the convenience store.

With careless steps, you took a turn to the back. That part of the road was surrounded by mountains already, so you were probably close to arriving. The sight of the many pine trees moving with the wind relaxed your mind, and for one moment you indulged in forgetting the violence of your situation. A forced marriage. Your father seeing you as an object he could offer in exchange for his own interest. The absolute recognition that no matter how many years had passed, you would never be seen as powerful as your young brother.

“Fucking assh-“ you started cursing, but never finished.

A gloved hand covered your mouth, pulling you flush to a stranger’s body as he lifted you in the air.

Your blood instantly sped in your veins, adrenaline screaming in its cells as you tried to kick and punch the man, doing your best to scream and bite his hand. In vain. When you realized, a tape covered your mouth, and your body was thrown inside a car, hands cuffed to the door handle.

Through the despair tears in your eyes, you noticed your kidnapper wore a scream mask, one that glowed in terror under moonlight.

Like a little girl, you wanted to sob. To beg for him to let you go. For him not to hurt you.

Jaehyun. Where was Jaehyun? Was he seeing what was happening? Was he going to save you?

Your heart thundered in your chest, and soon heavy raindrops started falling from the sky like brutal tears. Your kidnapper moved to the driver’s seat, and you squirmed like a leech in what seemed long hours, only if you suspected it only lasted minutes. Slowly, as the car was already on the road, your brain regained a bit of its consciousness. You made sure to take deep breaths, and a closer look around. The dark road barely allowed your vision to make sense of anything, but after a few minutes, you managed to outline a way too familiar suitcase on the backseat, by your side, and a pair of white, comfortable sneakers that belonged to you by your feet.

In slow motion, you looked over at the masked man. A hood covered his head, but the length of his shoulders was committed to your brain like it belonged to someone you knew.

His gloves… You knew them.

A boiling type of anger assaulted your guts, and you were squirming once again, trying your best to kick the back of his seat even if your legs didn’t reach it. The bad words your mouth let out became blurred words against the tape, like a baby mumbling, but you continued cursing. Calling him a fuck up. A pervert. Stupid. Dumb.

Strangely, the idea Jaehyun was kidnapping you made your panties soaked with warm, sloppy juices.

You continued to kick and curse until Jaehyun pulled up and removed the mask, turning around to look at you.

“Fucking relax, Y/N! It’s me.”

You managed to lift your middle fingers to make him realize that you thought of that.

Honestly, Jaehyun was expecting you to snap. He knew you too well to think you’d react otherwise. Somehow awaiting your hurtful words, he leaned over to remove the tape from your mouth.

Oh, how absolutely gorgeous you looked, wearing rage like a jewel, your eyes glowing in fury, cheeks smudged with tears, your hair messy like you’d just had sex.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” you spat loudly.

“I’m helping you,” Jaehyun calmly replied. “Keeping you safe.”

“How’s kidnapping me any helpful, Jaehyun? Uncuff me!”

He loved when you got all bossy. It went straight to his dick. “I’ll uncuff you when we get to where we’re heading.”

His words made your eyebrows clench. “Has your insanity gotten to your brain and made you stupid? I said uncuff me. Now!”

In one swift move, Jaehyun leaned over the seat and grabbed your chin. Hard. “You never shut up, do you, miss?” His eyes stared harshly at yours. “You wanted a way out. Well, I’m giving you one. One that won’t have that controlling shit of a father running after you because his princess didn’t want things his way.”

Holding his gaze, you growled. “What made you think you could put your dirty hands on me?”

Jaehyun replied by removing his gloves and sliding his hand between your legs, right where he could feel how maddening drenched you were. The smirk on his face was enough for you to eat up your words.

“I think this little pussy likes how dirty my hands are.”

He pushed your panties to the side and coated two of his fingers with your juices before sliding them all the way inside your mouth. Weak, you moaned around his fingers, flavoring the complex taste of your gluttony.

“Listen, miss,” the bodyguard murmured. “I’m gonna take you somewhere safe and fuck that pussy until it’s numb. That’s how you’ll show some fucking gratitute for what I’m doing, get it? In the meantime, try not leaking on my backseat or I’ll make you lick it clean.”

Oh, that was it. That was fucking it. You got euphoric, blood running warmer down your navel, as Jung Jaehyun, usually so polite, so ready to please you, the man that had killed for your name countless times, your first kiss… Jung Jaehyun put you in your place. He made you feel like a spoiled cunt, and there weren't enough words in your vocabulary to specify how badly you loved it.

You kept quiet for the rest of the ride, mind slowly getting into a clearer state. Arousal had perfectly substituted fear. So, even if you tried your best, your soaking core did leave a mark on the leather, one you could not hide when your kidnapper parked in front of a wooden cabin and finally uncuffed you.

“Move aside,” he commanded. As soon as you obeyed, he inspected the leather ridigly, eyes coming across a leak that was shaped like a cute heart.

Without him having to say a word, you leaned forward and licked it clean, eyes dilated with lust.

“Happy, freak?” you tasted the word in your mouth, looking down at his pants, where his bulge twitched. “You like being called that, hm? You certainly act like one, spoiling me with all your gifts and masturbating to my fucking panties.”

Jaehyun smirked, offering you his hand. You took it, letting him help you up and moaning softly when he pulled you flush to his chest. “You’re a freak just like me, miss, soaking the car of your kidnapper. Like a fucking whore.”

He raised you in his arms, with your cunt pressed to the bulge in his pants, and grabbed the suitcase with his free hand. The inside of the cabin was cozy, small, intimate, and minimalistically clean; the black furniture and the musky scent adding a male touch to it. Jaehyun placed you down on a bed with black silk sheets.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“My house. No one’s finding you here,” he spoke while going through the suitcase, removing a rope. There was something extremely arousing about fucking you in his place, in the sheets that smelled like him. “I’m tying you up to make sure no one marries what’s mine. That’s what you’ve been, right, missy? Mine. Using all of the toys I gave you, moaning loud so I could hear behind the door?”

You gazed at the insanity glimpse in his eyes, so wicked and yet so loving, almost criminal, like Jaehyun wanted to live inside you. Submissively, you let him push your wrists together, deciding, for the sake of fun, to play along with his game.

“W-why are you doing this, Jae?” you faked an afflicted tone, staring up at him with big blazing eyes. “Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He tightened the ropes around your wrists, tying you to the bed frame. Then, his hand dangerously slid towards your lips, thumb running on the plushy flesh. “Don’t you understand? I’m doing this because I love you… Always have, since our first kiss. You remember, right?”

The confession sped your heartbeat, making your hands sweat. It felt lovely to hear such words, to recognize the beautiful feelings Jaehyun had for you, even though he had a very peculiar way of expressing them.

Protecting you was his love language.

If you were to ever experience danger, than it had to be by his own hands.

“It was a kid thing,” you lied, because no one else’s lips had given you such butterflies ever since.

“Oh, but it wasn’t,” menacing, Jaehyun leaned closer, brushing his lips to yours. He closed his eyes, like your aroma was too much to take. “You’ll see I’m the only one for you. The only one who can wife you up.”

His obsession excited you, a coil of thrill running down your navel, making your exposed pussy leak on his sheets.

“Jaehyun,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Please what, miss?” He placed an angelic kiss to your forehead, hands quick to lift your top, freeing your breasts, and bunching your skirt up your waist. “Are you scared I’m gonna hurt you? Don’t be… Jaehyunnie’s gonna take good care of his slut.”

You shook your head. “I’m no slut.”

“You’re all talk, miss. About being independent, bossy, but look at you,” he chuckled dryly, entertained by the sight between your legs. “Your pussy has never been this wet, has it? Plus… I’ve got a little something for you.”

When his hand came back from the suitcase, you gasped, eyes wide between genuine fear and pleasure. The blade of Jaehyun’s personal knife shone aflame under the cabin’s dim lighting.

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing your hips against nothing.

“Told you. You’re a fucking slut, as perverted as I am,” Jaehyun cooed. He languidly ran the blade against the skin of your belly, causing you to stop any movement. He used it to cut your panties first, then the pretty red velvet skirt you loved, and finally your top, leaving you all naked for the delight of his eyes. “So fucking beautiful…Should have fucked you first. Should have been your only one.” His eyes took in every inch of your body as Jaehyun replaced the knife with his hand, sliding two of his long fingers inside your pussy.

The way you breathed his name was exactly what he was looking for.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Let Jaehyunnie fuck you, baby. Let me fuck you good and you won’t regret it.”

His thumb started rubbing circles on your clit and you held onto the ropes, spreading your legs wider for him, heatedly accepting his invitation.

“Gotta prep this cunt for my cock,” your bodyguard whispered. “Make sure it is all stretchy and ready before I fuck you like a bitch in heat.”

“You’re so filthy,” you managed to speak back, immediately noticing how he liked your degrading tone. “Such a fucking loser. You’ve only got the balls to fuck me by kidnapping me.”

Jaehyun smirked. “Yeah? Is that what you think, miss?”

“You fucking bet.”

He stopped his movements right there, pulling his fingers out, and you could not control the pout blossoming on your lips. Jaehyun moved to grab something that had been by the bed, removing a realistic dildo from the suitcase, one you recognized as one of his gifts. Skilledly, he placed it on… on… On a dildo machine.

You felt a thin layer of sweat cover your body while Jaehyun adjusted it, placing the tip of the toy right against your entrance. “Gonna fuck some respect into you,” he growled. “Make you understand I wish nothing but to make you feel good.”

The girth of the dildo stretched your gummy walls, making it gape and clench around the toy. Mercilessly, Jaehyun set it to a high speed, and before you knew it, you were taking every thrust as your delectable breasts bounced, your moans mixing with whimpers and cries.

“Bought all these things for you, missy,” Jaehyun smiled in awe to watch you. “To keep you satisfied. I love you so fucking much…”

“Jaehyun, please-“ you begged, even though you could not understand why.

Jaehyun lowered himself until he was facing your pussy, and stuck his tongue out to slowly lick your clit. “Holy shit!” you gasped.

“Come on, miss. You can cum. Cum on my bed.”

Restrained in his pants, Jaehyun’s cock twitched as he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, watching the pornographic view of your body approaching the edge. He kept his eyes open, knowing it was because of him: he was the one making you feel good. The one using your beautiful, sloppy cunny, making it gape and squeeze as you threw your head back, face contorted in pleasure and sweet, sweet body shaking ravishingly.

It was a sight to hang on a wall, like an art piece.

Aware of your post-orgasm sensitiveness, Jaehyun turned the machine off, slowly dragging the dildo away from your hole. You whimpered, hazy eyes searching for his.

“So pretty, miss…” he hummed. “Bet you’ll look even prettier with my cock buried in you.”

“No, please-“ you whined.

In reply, Jaehyun harshly grabbed your chin, his gaze piercing you like the blade of his knife. You could tell he was dead serious this time, searching for true, genuine consent so he could fuck your brains out. “Tell me to stop, miss, and I fucking will.”

Swallowing the saliva in your mouth, you simply smirked, giving him all the approval he needed, and showing how badly you liked to play with him.

“Fucking cumslut,” Jaehyun roughly turned you around until your knees were on the bed. You watched as he taped your mouth again, even though you fought a little against it, holding tightly onto the sheets when, with one swift move, his cock was slammed inside you.

Controlling the absurd pace he was about to set against your hips, Jaehyun took a deep breath. “Is it okay, missy? Can I move?”

You nodded desperately, moans muffled by the tape and the uninvited drool that ran down your chin. It was all it took for Jaehyun to let go years of masturbating into his fist, finally finding heaven in the tight grip of your slutty walls. There was little you could do but take it. Take it like a good girl, the best of the best, your pliable body bouncing on the mattress as Jaehyun pounded mercilessly into you, eyes fixated where your cunt gripped his cock, as though trying to keep it inside forever.

“So freaking tight… Seems like you’ve never been fucked before, love,” he praised, voice shook with how blissful you were making him feel. “You’ll never think of leaving now, will you? Why would you, when I can give you cock, hm? Why leave when you can let me ruin you night after night?”

You looked over your shoulder, finding your still clothed bodyguard turning all your twisted fantasies into reality, like he knew you inside out, bone, flesh and filth, like he inhabited all of your wet dreams.

Your gaze faltered when he prodded at the rim of your back hole with his thumb.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, miss? Should Jaehyunnie put a pillow underneath to rub your pretty clit too?”

The noise that left you was foreign even to your own ears, but it could only be interpreted as desperate consent. Generous, Jaehyun quickly positioned one of his pillows under you, forcing your pelvis against it, which caused a lovely friction on your most sensitive spot.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he cooed soothingly. “Rub yourself on it, babe. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

You did what he said obediently, moving your hips back and forth. What a delight it was to Jaehyun, watching your ass cheeks bounce as you took his every inch, his thumb pressing sweetly against the rim of your lubed hole. He felt it when you came, your pussy spasming, your hands fisting the sheets hard and your upper body giving out, resting on the bed as you kept your ass up for him. Seconds later, edged by your own high, Jaehyun came too, spurt after spurt of warm thick cum filling you up.

For the first time in his life, Jaehyun felt more blessed than average people. He felt as if he hit the jackpot with you so putty in his arms, especially when he untied your wrists and took a close look at the fucked out expression on your angel face. You were his. And you were not leaving. Ever. Not like his mother. Not like anyone else. You were staying, bold and true and fuckable, because there was not anyone else for him.

You sustained his look, allowing a small grin to bloom on your lips affectionately when he removed the tape from your drooling mouth. “What, loser?”

“You look gorgeous like that.”

“Smitten,” you hummed. To prove your words, Jaehyun took your reddened wrists to his lips, kissing them lovingly.

“Sorry about the rope.”

“You can apologize by fucking undressing.”

He chuckled. “Why don’t you do it?”

Sitting on your thighs, you swiftly reached for the knife, testing its weight on your hand before using it to sharply cut his expensive black tie and the bottoms of his shirt. Hungry, your eyes alternated between his toned abdomen and his interested eyes before you ran the blade gently down his abs. However, as soft as you tried to be, it didn’t keep the blade from actually cutting him a little, a cut the size of your little finger’s nail, right next to his navel.

“Sorry,” you pulled the blade away as soon as you realized what you’ve done.

“S’ okay, miss,” Jaehyun assured with sweet eyes, rubbing your cheek assuringly.

Without much thought, you dove in to lick the cut clean, pulling a deep grunt from Jaehyun’s throat.

“You’re so…” he breathed. “You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N.”

Oh, you liked how it sounded, holding his gaze as your hands pulled his shirt down his arms. Jaehyun’s chest was now in full bloom for your delightment. His pants and boxers followed the same destiny, landing on the floor inaudibly. Taking your sweet time, you admired his bareness, biting your lip in arousal.

Putty in your hands already, there was little Jaehyun could do but comply when you hovered over him, climbing up his body until your cum stained pussy was rubbing against his abs, leaving a trail that burned on Jaehyun’s skin where it touched. “My handsome, strong bodyguard,” you whispered in his ear as his hands held your hips softly. “How long have you been dreaming of getting pussydrunked with me, hm?”

“Fucking years,” he admitted. There was no need to hide his obsession.

“That’s why you never had another woman? Because you were waiting for me?”

Truth be told: Jaehyun never had any time to be with someone else. He was twenty-four hours by your side, protecting your every move. He knew your routine, your preferences, your enemies. He knew your favorite dishes, your goals, your ambitions. Jaehyun had killed for you. Once, twice, thirteen, twenty-seven times. There wasn’t any space for anyone else in his life.

And he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Let me pay you for all the longing,” you hummed slyly, lowering your hips until they aligned with his already hardened cock. Grabbing the base, you slowly pushed it in, a loud moan filling the room when he was fully slotted inside you.

You rode him like your life depended on it, loosened hips circling his shaft while your sloppy walls squeezed his cock viciously. Never before had you seen Jaehyun so vulnerable. So needy as he was when he moaned your name, helping you bounce on top of him. “You have the perfect cock,” you whimpered. “Better than any of the toys you’ve gifted me.”

“Fuck,” the bodyguard threw his head back, trying to draw the image of you taking his cock forever in his mind. How you rolled your hips, how your breasts moved, how you lubed him with more and more juices. “Is that so, missy? You like my cock buried deep in your fertile cunt?”

“I love it.” Your hand came lower to rub your clit, right in front of him, causing Jaehyun to nearly cum at the sight.

“That’s my good fucking girl. My beautiful White Rose,” he growled, making your toes curl at the compliment. “Wanna cum all over my cock as I fill you up again, miss?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Good. Keep rubbing that beautiful clit for me. Take yourself there.”

It wasn’t hard to cum again, and this time, you moaned his name as he filled your womb with his seed, holding your melting body against his with a satisfied hum.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you, giving your back soft rubs while he tried catching up his breath. When your gazes met again, you two laughed blissfully, like only fucked out people did.

“You fucking kidnapped me!” you protested.

“Thought you’d like it.”

“Sure. That’s every woman’s dream,” you rolled your eyes.

“You were dripping in my car.”

“Because it was you. I wouldn’t have liked anyone else.”

Jaehyun playfully smacked your butt cheek. “Excellent. That’s what I like to hear.”

You let your chuckle die on your lips before speaking again. “I’m not sure I can be kept here for too long, though. ”

“As much as I’d love that, I know,” Jaehyun breathed. “I know that my White Rose has important shit to deal with. I just don’t want to see her married to Johnny Suh.”

“Me neither.”

Jaehyun brushed your hair back, tugging a strand behind your delicate ear. He had always loved its color, its shape, how it graciously adorned your beautiful face.

“I can take care of him for you,” he suggested firmly, meaning every word.

Deep inside, you liked how ready Jaehyun was to kill for you. How he would get your back even if you decided to burn the world down to ashes.

“I appreciate that, babe,” you smiled. “But I think we can solve this without any drastic measures.”

“You choose. But if he ever touches you, he’ll lose his fucking hands.”

You lifted your face and gently put your hands on his cheeks, pressing your lips to his. When he closed his eyes, Jaehyun was sent back to the fields of your childhood, with the golden sun bathing your skin and your lilac dress, and you telling him he tasted wet.

Opening his eyes, he came across the breathtaking sight of your smile.

“Don’t worry, Jaehyunnie, I’ll come up with something,” you assured, resting your arms each on the sides of his broad shoulders. “But, for now, all I’m gonna do is to be yours, just like I’ve been dreaming too.”

His eyes glowed in the many promises of your words. Like a laugh that pushed his nightmares away. And this time, because he could, Jaehyun collided his lips to yours, for real, until he swallowed your breath and his mouth was swollen, until he knew the flavor of your moans. Until his whipped heartbeat was loud in his ears.

“Jaehyun…”

“Yes?”

He drank from your smile, how lovely you dove in for another kiss as your next words shook him to the core.

“Freak me.”

#jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #nct 127 #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #nct smut #kpop smut #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios

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ultralightpoe · 4 months

Text

Full House ll - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Went from cute fluff to straight angst. Sorry?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (not Eddie and reader though), angst angst angst. A fight.

Word count: 10,009 (ohhhhhh boy)

Part l HERE

(THANK YOU FOR THE GIF @feodor-dostoevsky)

(Warning. This chapter contains hints of domestic violence and if any of my readers are going through that you deserve better. I love you all, also Motley will be showing signs of abuse this chapter. It's a long chapter that I'm really nervous about and I really hope you guys like it <3)

Enjoy!

Eddie had been in a pissy mood on Halloween morning of his second year as a senior, mostly because his friends that had graduated last year were all going out to awesome college parties and he was stuck redoing school. Embarrassed and alone.

But he sucked it up, wearing his favorite leather jean combo as he walked into the halls of hell, keeping his head down while people passed by him in a flurry, excitement and laughter in the air.

He had planned to just keep his head down and make it to class, no need to get into something with Harrington and his cronies. He had enough of their teasing and bullshit to get him by for the rest of the year.

Normally it was fine since he had friends, but now he was alone.

A body slamming into a locker pulls his attention to where someone in a rustic leather jacket was slamming one of the juniors into the wall of metal. The kid being assaulted was called Jeff, he was the only black kid in the grade and Eddie had seen him around a lot. The kid didn’t hang out with anyone and seemed lonely.

Shit.

The one slamming him was Billy Hargrove, a new kid that seemed to immediately become one of the cool ones. He spent most his classes not caring and any free time harassing everyone else. Eddie had his fair share of issues with him already.

It would be a good idea to just walk away and let them handle this on their own, but Eddie could not do that. If there was one thing his dad taught him it was that he could take a punch and his Uncle Wayne always told him that you should always stand up for the weaker man. Even if Eddie wasn’t strong enough to beat Billy “steroids” Hargrove, he was strong enough to take a hit for someone else.

A sigh falls through him as he makes his way over, tapping the shoulder of the assailant quickly, the second Billy has his eyes on him Eddie shoves him quickly.

Billy reacts in an instant, hands clenching into his jacket, swinging Eddie around until it was his back being slammed into the lockers. A grunt passes his lips as he sends Jeff a quick look to escape while he can, the kid gives him a grateful smile as he snatches his backpack and dashes off.

“If it isn’t the super senior!” Billy laughs bitterly, pulling Eddie forward and shoving him back into the lockers harshly.

Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him.

“What you doing here bud?! Trying to get your ass-“ Eddie loses some of his patience after the third hit into the lockers and hits Billy’s hands off of him, shoving him back enough that Billy nearly trips over his feet.

Gasps fall from the crowd as Billy glares, staring wide eyed at him as he sneers. Eddie tries to play it cool, the anticipation of a fight howling beneath his skin as he preps himself.

Before they can get into it Steve Harrington pops up, his back to Eddie as he watches Billy. “Not that I don't want to see how the freak handles business but the principal is on the way.”

Billy casts one more glare, walking off quickly as Harrington turns to Eddie.

“You stupid or some-“

“Yeah yeah. We get it Harrington. I’m a repeat senior.” Eddie snaps, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the pain. “Why don’t you find a new joke?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to make sure you were good.” Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his neck before moving to pick up what Eddie had dropped.

“I don’t need help from you.” Eddie snaps, snatching the lunch box he had gotten from Uncle Wayne and walking off quickly.

Eddie had spent the better part of that year dealing with Hargroves shit, the only thing that made him feel better was the fact that Steve Harrington seemed to be having his own issues with Billy. Then the summer between his second senior year and his third Billy Hargrove died.

Eddie had avoided the pool that entire summer but he heard about it from Jeff the day the mall caught on fire. The next thing he knew Max was moving into the trailer near his and Wayne’s and everyone was bothering her and her mother about it all but they seemed like they didn’t want to talk about it.

After he dealt with VECNA they all explained a little about what happened, and when El closed the gates and fixed the time warp she ended up bringing a couple people back. That’s how he came back.

No one had seen Billy, so everyone assumed he didn’t come back. Even Barb had shown back up (though her memory was hazy on everything).

Now, Billy Hargrove stood in the doorway of his home, catching Motley when she ran to him with an easy smile. “There’s my baby!”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do, stuck between anger and shock, watching this play out before him as Ziggy grabs at his jaw. The little toddler leans to kiss his cheek, a wet open mouth kiss that normally makes Eddie laugh, but this time he just stands there. Waiting for the “just kidding!” Or someone to pinch him so he can wake up.

“Sugar,” Billy starts, keeping Motley in his arms as he stares at Eddie. It takes him a moment to realize that when he says sugar he is talking to you. “Why is there a drug dealer holding my daughter?”

“I can explain-“ you start, watching Eddie angrily set up the crib in your shared room, jaw tensed and eyes heavy with anger. “Eds please.”

“You don’t need to explain.” He snaps, turning quickly. “No actually. You do. What the fuck?”

“I met him a couple years back. Okay? It was a one night stand from a bar, he was new in town and I ended up getting pregnant. After that he said he wanted to stay together because of the baby and I didn’t want to parent alone so I said yes-“

“So you’d rather have parented with a racist jackass then?” He laughs bitterly. You draw back, eyes wide as he does so before he sees you get defensive.

“I didn’t know about any of that. Okay? He was sweet with me for the most part-“

“For the most part?”

“He had moments of anger, sometimes I got hit. But he always made up for it. And then I got pregnant again and I thought I was happy and then….” You trail off then, shaking a bit. “I left for a reason.”

“He hit you? More than once?” Eddie bites out, hands on his hips.

“It was fine-“

“No no no. It wasn’t fine. But the fact that you’re saying it was fine and you say he made up for it means that you didn’t leave because he hit you, you left for another reason.” He sees you get nervous under his gaze and he knows he’s figuring out. Anger coursed through him at the fact that Billy had ever laid a hand on you in the first place but it’s beginning to reach tenfold when he puts the pieces together. “He hit Motley?”

“I-“

“You were okay with him hitting you, which makes me upset that you thought you deserved that, but the second he hit Motley you ran.” He fills in the blanks, watching as you crumble before his eyes with tears falling freely.

“Ohmygod-“ you sob, covering your eyes.

“And that’s why you’re so weird around Max because when you came out here you recognized her, right? And when we all shared the truth of what happened you recognized Billy in it? And you didn’t say anything because-“

“What was I supposed to say Eddie?! That I was dumb enough to fall for it?! That I slept with a racist abusive asshole one night drunk and then agreed to let him move in with me because I was scared even though I knew nothing about him?!” You snap, tears streaming down your face. “You guys would have thought the worst of me. You guys are going to think the worst of me- maybe I should just grab the girls and go get a hotel-“

“Hey hey hey.” He eases, reaching for you as you stand up to leave. His hands find your hips and he pulls you in for a hug. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry-“

“I’m sorry. I’m over reacting and being a pain in the ass because I’m surprised is all.” He mumbles, kissing your head and keeping his nose pressed into your hair. “You are very brave for leaving him, yeah? And I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, you’re not stupid you were just played. You always think the best of people and you are so fucking brave for getting the girls out of there.”

He lets you sob into his chest for a minute, rubbing your back in comfort as he holds you to him tightly.

Eddie was gonna figure this out. He was gonna find a way to get Billy Hargrove out of his life for good.

The morning was always filled with excitement, mostly on Motley's part. She loved getting ready for the day, for all the things she would do. She loved talking yours and Eddie’s ear off about the plans for the day. Then she would be crankier when she got home and she knew it was time for bed, but Eddie loved her in the mornings because he loved seeing her excitement.

He wore his glasses in the morning, while he helped get them ready for the day since you both liked to tag team the morning and get the process done faster. This morning was his turn for Motley, who currently sat at the table blabbering on about how she was excited for secret santa while Eddie sat at the stove watching the pancakes bubble.

“-and I keep thinking what if Vinny gets me? He will probably get me the dumbest thing ever and I would be so upset. But what if Troy gets me, oh I hope Troy gets my name- Daddy are you listening?”

“I’m listening, pretty girl.” He smiles, looking over her shoulder where she sat coloring. “You hope Troy gets you. Cause you have a big ole crush on him.”

“DO NOT!” She yells which makes him laugh and turn back to the pancakes. Before he knows it he feels a pair of arms wrap around him, with you kissing along his exposed back slowly while ge fights off the blush.

“You cooking bacon without a shirt, handsome?” You smile and he tries not to laugh.

“I can’t feel half the skin on my stomach anyways.” The scars made sure of that. “You want a piece of bacon?”

“I’ll wait to eat with you and the girls. Did we get any yogurt on our last trip to the store?” You ask, moving to the fridge to check. Eddie takes a moment to admire you before looking to where Ziggy sits in her high chair, playing with a piece of paper that Motley gave her.

“Morning metal head.” He coos, walking forward to kiss her head. She giggles and claps before Motley follows what Eddie did, kissing her sisters head.

“Come here Daddy.” She smiles, and he bends down to let her kiss his forehead which makes her laugh.

He sets them both up with plates, eating breakfast quickly before rushing to get a shirt on as you bring them both to the door to get them in shoes. When he gets back he finds Motley with her arms crossed and shaking her head.

“What’s going on?”

“She found out Steve is taking her to school.” You sigh, trying to grab her foot.

“I want Papa to take me. He said he wanted to!” She snaps and Eddie watches you tense up, choosing to intervene here.

“I got this, go grab her bag.” He smiles, switching spots with you. “Alright. No playing around. Metalheads put their shoes on when told.”

“But daddy-“

“Ah.” He holds up a finger and she sighs before grabbing the left shoe and moving to put it on her right. “Wait. This is a good time to teach you left from right.”

“I’ve got time.” She smiles , watching him.

“Alright. This is left,” he holds out his left hand, the metal bracelet he always wears drawing Ziggys attention as she waddles closer.

Motley holds out her right hand, repeating “left.”

“No. That’s right.”

“I’m right?”

“No. That hand is right.”

“Yeah daddy. I know I’m right.” She scoffs, staring at him like he’s insane.

“No pretty girl. You’re opposite of me, like a mirror. So if this is my left hand you’re left hand would be….” He picks up her left hand, wiggling it a bit.

“Oh. So this would be my right hand.” She mumbles, shaking her right hand.

“Exactly. So if this is your left shoe it would go on…..”

“MY LEFT FOOT!” She yells excitedly which makes him smile.

“You got it! You rockstar!” He helps her tie it, letting her rest her foot on his thigh before switching the feet and tying the next shoe.

“We ready to go?” You ask, coming around the corner and smiling.

“Daddy taught me my left from right, Mommy!” She giggles, rushing to get her bag and holding your hand as you lead her out of the house with Eddie close behind, Ziggy in his arms trying to reach for the bandana on his head.

“Hey Uncle Steve,” she calls, running up to him to hug him. “I know my left from right!”

“You’re a genius kid!” He smiles. You pull her attention, kissing her forehead before kissing Steve’s cheek. Eddie follows, kissing Motley then snatching Steve and kissing his cheek which makes everyone laugh. Ziggy coos the second she sees Steve and he instantly makes grabby hands at her.

“There she is, my pretty little angel.” He coos, bouncing her up and down as Motley climbs in his car between his two sons. Vinny glares while Jackson waves his grubby little hands. The kid was four and thought the best thing to eat was a crayon.

“You know what gender the baby is yet?” You ask, watching Steve with Ziggy.

“No. But Nancy is sure it’s another boy.” He sighs out. “And she wants to name one after her brother.”

“Do we need another Mike?” Eddie laughs which makes Steve laugh as well.

“That’s what I said!”

“Alright, I have to head off. Drop Ziggy off at daycare before work. Have a wonderful day boys.” You smile, grabbing Ziggy from Steve who sighs in disappointment, before kissing Eddie and heading off to your car.

Steve turns to Eddie, a raised brow, he opens his mouth to start asking but Eddie holds up a hand. “Nuh uh. We don’t talk about within hearing age of Motley.”

“Why’s that?” Steve asks, squinting. “She get upset?”

“The opposite.”

“But the guys a massive dick!”

“And that’s her dad.”

“You’re her dad.”

“No, I’m the step dad.” Eddie sighs, something clenching in his gut. “I gotta get going. Thanks for dropping Motty off.”

The thought that he was just the step dad stuck, it clung to him like a second skin, sticking like a shadow over the sun. He thought about it while he tucked the girls in, and when he woke them up. He worried over the thought of Billy fighting for custody and turning the girls against Eddie.

He was just the step-dad.

This is what he was thinking about as he changed the oil on one of the cars in the shop, a frown stuck to his face as music played in the background. It was Dylans, the other repairman that worked today, turn for the stereo and he was playing all the rock hits. Which included ‘rock you like a hurricane.’

And all Eddie could imagine was his girls having a dance party but instead of him being there it was Billy. Billy dancing with them to all the music and-

“HI DADDY!” Motley shouts, making Eddie gasp in shock, whipping his head to find her on all fours so she could see him under the car.

“Hi pretty girl.” He smiles, using the cart to roll out from under the car and sit up, whipping the bandana off his hair as she whirls around the car to attack him, roaring like a tiger as she jumps on him. “What are you doing here?”

“School let out early today, they have their christmas party tomorrow and then winter break.” You explain, walking around the car with Ziggy on your hip, still wearing the cute diner uniform. “Motley wanted to come grab you for lunch.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, laughing when she slips a bit and he has to catch her before she hits the floor. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Pizza.”

“Pizza?!” He acts shocked, eyes wide as she begins laughing. “Well I don’t know about that…. I don’t really know if I like pizza.”

“You LOVE pizza.” She scoffs, jumping up and dashing to the radio to turn it down. “Does Dylan want pizza?”

“Why thank you for asking little lady.” Dylan smiles, wiping his hands on his suit. “I love pizza.”

“Hear that daddy? We have to go get pizza for Dylan.” Motley sasses, coming back over to snatch Eddie’s bigger hand between her own. “Get uppppp!”

She groans as she tries to lift him, and Eddie picks himself up so she thinks she was able to do it. “Jesus you are strong.”

“I pulled a secret santa today, and you’ll never guess who I got!”

“Troy?”

“No.” She sighs, disappointed for just a moment before her face lights up again. “I got Samantha, she likes jump rope.”

“Yeah? Is that what we are gonna get her then?” He chuckles, moving to wash his hands as you go and put Ziggy in the car.

“Well I don’t know. I don’t want my gift to be too basic and not surprising. But I want to make sure she actually likes it. And do you think-” Eddie lets her ramble, grabbing her hand and leading her to the car as she goes on and on about the ideas she has for gifts.

The store was busy when Eddie took Motley Christmas shopping, holding her hand in his own as walked across the street and headed into the warmth. He had been more focused on making sure she wore a coat then grabbing a coat heavy enough for himself.

The second she is in the store her eyes widen and she makes a mad dash to the kids aisle, Eddie right behind her trying to slow her down a bit.

“Alright, take a look and see what you might like to get Samantha.” He huffs, breathing into his palms to warm up his face, ignoring the weird look he gets from a do-good mom passing by in her expensive shoes.

He had gotten used to the looks by now, it’s not like he screamed father with his leather jacket and tattoos, but you always told him that he was a better father than any country club dad you had ever met. And he was constantly lecturing Motley that ‘it’s what’s on the inside that counts’ so how would this be different?

“How about this?” She asks, picking up a barbie car that makes Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“Isn’t there a price limit on this thing?” He blurts, moving to check before she is completely gone and looking at something else.

“Can I get a dollhouse?”

“For Samantha?”

“No, for me silly..” She laughs, like it was the most obvious thing.

“We are supposed to be shopping for your secret santa cheeseball.”

“Oh, right.” She sighs, moving back to the barbies. “How about for christmas?”

“Have you asked Santa?” Eddie smiles, and she shakes her head. “We’ll write a letter tonight, then.”

“Okay.” She giggles before pointing to a ken doll. “Hey daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Santa already answered my wish this year.” She mumbles which makes Eddie look at her curiously. “Last year I asked Santa to bring my dad back. And he did even better.”

Eddie’s heart practically shatters as he tries to smile at her, the vast empty feeling at her words killing him. Of course, what little girl didn’t want her dad on christmas, and she wanted Billy.

Steve was suspicious of him the entire Christmas party, giving Eddie the side eye every chance he could while you sat not far off with Nancy gossiping amongst yourselves.

Steve was room mother, and as much as Eddie made fun of him for it his friend was an amazing room mother. He had thrown the class’ holiday party at his house rather than that stuffy classroom so that the parents could come as well. His house, which was already insanely decorated for Christmas, had tons of ‘activity stations’ for the kids to do. Motley and Vinny were currently arguing over what color gumdrops they wanted to put on their gingerbread house.

Charles, Samantha's dad as Eddie found out, had wavered off after talking to Steve and himself for the past hour and finally the two men were left alone. “Who knew parenthood would be just like highschool again?”

“You’re telling me.” Steve snickers. “I feel like-”

“King Steve again?” Eddie taunts, shaking his head.

“Oh no no. You can’t make fun of me since you’re apart of the cool kid club this round.”

“No I’m not-”

“Oh yes you are. Please, everyone talks about you and Y/n. One, all the moms think you are attractive and so gentleman like for taking on the girls. Two. The dads are jealous of you cause you have this cool rock thing going on while still being a parent. Three, everyone loves Motley. She is the class princess. Everyone wants to play with her at christmas, if she shows up to their birthday party then their year is made. Admit it Munson, you’re raising a prom queen.”

“I don’t think I have much to do on that front, and it’s more to do with I’m your friend and you are the Room Mom.”

“Shh not so loud.” Steve mutters. “Nancy has been feeling a little guilty about being ‘less of a mom’ cause she spends all day at work. I tried telling her it was fine but she thinks it’s a bad look that her husband is room mom and not the actual mom.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad look. I think it shows that Vinny is being raised by two people who understand life a little better than other stuck up parents.”

“Thanks pal.” Steve sighs, leading them away so Eddie can go up and check on where they put Ziggy to nap. Steve had been nice enough to set up a little crib in his room so she wouldn’t have to be dragged around the party.

They catch up on everything, Steve complains that he think Jaxon might just be a freaky kid considering the amount of crayons and pencils he eats and how Nancy babies him. He complains that Mike is the worst uncle and never actually helps but always claims to do so.

Eddie catches Steve up on the Billy situation, which had shocked the group to no end.

“He’s been calling everyday, arguing that he should get visitation.” Eddie sighs, taking a swig from the beer Steve smuggled for them.

“That’s bullshit. Tell him no.”

“Y/n is worried that he could fight and get full custody.”

“Why on earth-”

“Because she took the girls and ran. She did it for their safety but the court will never look at it like that.” Eddie sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “All they will see is Hawkins very own mall hero being abandoned as she runs to Hawkins very own freak.”

“Motley and Y/n don’t think of you as a freak.”

“Maybe not. But Motley adores Billy, and that leaves me on the sidelines.”

“That’s not fair.” Steve sighs but Eddie shrugs.

“You know how long I hated Wayne for taking me from my dad? That man hit me and all I did for years was look up to him and try to be better. I pushed away anyone that actually cared. I know what she is going through right now, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that love she has for her dad. Shit person or not.”

“Would you rather ruin her dad for her or have her heart broken when she is exposed to him on her own?”

“I think if he ever hurt her I would actually-”

“Kill him. I’m so in.” Steve finishes the sentence before there is a quick knock on the door.

“Dad!” Vinny whines. “Where’s the gift?! We are doing secret santa!”

Steve sighs, moving to his dresser to grab the wrapped gift before handing it to his son. Eddie waits to follow Vinny, surprised when he turns to him rather than immediately running away.

“Will Motley like this wrapping paper?”

“Yeah? I think she’d love it.” Eddie smiles, watching in shock as the kids dashes out. “He got Motley? Bet he hated that.”

“Nah, he was worried she might now like the barbie car.”

“Wasn’t there a price limit on this thing?” Eddie asks, raising a brow.

“My kid is head over heels for your daughter Munson. Just be happy Troy didn’t get her. Little punk thinks he’s everything.” Steve scoffs, walking past Eddie and mumbling under his breath about Troy being a little shit.

There was a new form of hell to Eddie, not having his girls under the same roof was that hell. After a very long argument it was agreed that Billy would get them for the night, they would have a fun time at the shitty motel room.

So, after a long night of pacing back and forth, Billy finally dropped the girls off around noon, smoking easily as he carried Ziggy’s car seat in one hand.

“Really? Right by her?” Eddie snaps, grabbing the handle carefully as Ziggy coos up at him.

“Didn’t think you would be one to care, Munson.” Billy laughs, looking past him to where Motley stood with a grumpy look and her bag around her shoulder. “You used to make sure our class was coked out just fine.”

“Motty go inside.” Eddie sighs, moving to open the door for her, getting a little nervous when she glares and stomps in. “Has she eaten?”

Only when he turns back to ask Billy the jackass is already halfway in his car, sending a cocky smile in Eddie’s direction as he turns the speaker up loud.

Now left alone with the two girls since you were at work Eddie shuffles inside to go find where Motley stomped off to, finding her in her room sitting on the floor and playing with a toy he didn’t recognize.

“New barbie?” He smiles, watching her carefully. This was the first time she had ever gone with her dad and he didn't know what to expect, maybe he had been hoping for a hug or kiss. “She’s very pretty-”

“Papa got her for me.” She bites out, voice dripping with attitude.

“Okay. You hungry? I can make you-”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” She screams, rushing to slam her door in his face, the tiffany poster she had on it staring back at him as he blinks in shock. There had been fits, a couple of screaming fits, she sometimes called him meanie head when he told her not to do something. But she had never before slammed a door in his face.

Not really knowing what to do he decided to focus on bathing Ziggy first, making sure the smoke scent didn’t cling to her before setting her up to eat something.

A couple hours later you came home, a nervous smile on your face as you looked at him only to realize he was upset.

“What happened?”

“She’s upset, won’t come out of her room.” He sighs.

“Let me go check on her.” You mumble, kissing him before heading to her room and knocking softly. “Hey bugs? Why don’t you come out and say hi? Daddy can make something for dinner-“

“Eddie can fuck off!” She screams, which makes you freeze as Eddie’s heart drops and he leans his forehead on the wall.

“Motley Marie-“

“NO!” She screams from the other side of the door and Eddie feels like he might throw up.

“Maybe I should go to Wayne’s tonight?” He offers, shaking a bit as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I need to help him fix the replace his fridge anyways”

“Eds, no.” You mumble, tears welling up in your eyes as you shuffle closer. “She’ll be fine in a bit. We just need to get her to eat and-“

“She’s not gonna come out to eat if I’m here. I’ll come back tomorrow to see if she’s feeling better. Okay?” He tries, rubbing your arms in a comforting manner. “Just one night, maybe she will eat and calm down”

You shake your head, crying, but you both already know the answer. And Eddie already knows this might not work out for him.

After packing an overnight bag and heading off he makes it to his Uncle Wayne’s and spends the night there, hoping Motley would feel better if he wasn’t there.

He helps Wayne sort out the kitchen, both of them planning on switching the fridges out in the morning now that his is empty. So, later in the night, Eddie lays on the couch staring at the ceiling.

He couldn’t fall asleep without you beside him and he’s used to seeing the hall light under the door so the girls could see if they needed to get to the bathroom or your room.

He tossed and turned, doing his best not to get too upset at all of it before he began thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.

He never wanted to hurt the girls, and as much as he loved them and loved you there was always that thing about “if you love someone set them free.” So, as much as he hated it, he figured maybe it was time for some breathing space. Let Motley learn about her biological dad for a bit, and he would take whatever he could get even if it was just a dinner a month. Anything to make sure she didn’t hate him forever.

So, around 6am, when he finally managed to close his eyes and get some sleep he had decided that the best plan of action was to give his girls breathing room.

When he woke up Wayne was already starting on the fridge, which made Eddie realize just how much he had slept in. Jumping up quickly to start helping, he didn’t think to call you.

They spent the next few hours moving the fridges and getting the new one set up, making sure everything was working before hauling the old one to the junkyard. By the time they were done the sun was going down and Eddie was starving so Wayne offered to order a pizza.

The only problem was your car was at the trailer when they got back, with you sitting on the hood smiling at him as Wayne pulled his truck up to park.

“Hi Grandpa Wayne.” You called which made the older man smile and hop out quickly to give you a kiss before moving to say hi to the girls in the back seat.

Eddie moves to hug you, kissing you deeply before you pull back and smile. “You didn’t call, and we called this morning but no answer so I figured you boys were busy.”

“Sorry. I slept a little late and we were fighting that damn fridge all day.” He smiles.

“We were thinking about going and getting dinner tonight, thought we’d come pick up daddy.” You offer, holding his hand. He casts a quick look to where Motley is sitting in the backseat, laughing as Wayne pretends to steal her book.

Breathing room.

“I actually got more stuff to help Wayne with. That okay?” He could see you visibly deplete, trying your best to keep smiling.

“Of course that’s okay. Just don’t forget to call okay?”

“I won’t.”

“You wanna say bye to the girls?”

“I….Not tonight.” He feels like he’s stabbed himself in the gut and twisted the knife, his throat tightening up with the urge to cry. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You mumble. “And you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Right.” He smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek. When you kiss him one last time you move to Wayne, tearing up a bit.

“Enjoy your handyman Wayne. But I expect him back tomorrow by dinner, got it grandpa?”

Wayne, to his credit, smiles politely and nods. Mumbling something about making Eddie work overtime as you laugh, he hears Ziggy blubber sadly, probably upset that she’s in her car seat.

He spots Motley when you open your door to get in, leaning against the window already staring at him. There is a glum look on her expression and Eddie feels that stab wound tighten. She hates him, she can’t even smile when she sees him anymore. Billy must have told her what a fuckimg freak he was.

Instead of crawling into the hole he wants to, he merely raises a hand slowly to wave, attempting to seem like everything was fine.

She raised her own hand, and Eddie thinks he’s mistaken when she presses it to the glass of the window as you drive off.

“You okay?” Wayne asks, rubbing his boys shoulder.

“Not really.”

True to his word Eddie calls the next morning, only to be surprised when he hears Motleys voice answer.

“Hello?” She asks.

“Hey Mot…ley.” Eddie panics , thinking that she might now like her nicknames now. “I called for your ma.”

“Oh.” She mumbles, obviously disappointed that it was him. “I can go get her……”

“Not if she’s busy, okay? I can call back later.” He hears her set the phone down and scamper off, feet hitting the hardwood of the kitchen as she rushes to find you. A couple minutes goes by and he hears both your voices trickle back into hearing distance, probably from the downstairs hallway.

“- dy Eddie. He just wanted to talk to you.” He hears Motley mumble, and that shooting pain was back. Eddie. She called him Eddie again.

Panic claws at him as he hears your footsteps get closer and he hangs up quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

After helping Wayne around the trailer he returns that evening, feeling lame and tired. Kicking his shoes off in the doorway, hearing your music downstairs which tells him you had probably started reading once putting the girls to bed.

He planned to shower and then go see you, so he makes his way to the room, shucking his jacket off and tossing it on the bed in the dark.

“Heyyy.” Someone whines, making him stop and look to the bed to see Motley climbing out from the blankets and pillows, eyes wide. “Watch it.”

“Sorry kid,” he smiles, moving to grab the jacket. “Didn’t see ya there.”

She giggles softly, moving to the middle of the bed and turning on the light before going back to her spot. He gives her a soft smile before moving to grab clothes and heading to the master bathroom only for her to call out.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He asks, turning with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry I was mean and hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I made you mad.” Tears well in her eyes as she says it which makes his chest clench.

“Hey hey. I’m not mad.” He says softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, she immediately crawls over and crawls into his lap.

“You are! That’s why you didn’t want to come home!” She cries. “You hate me now.”

“No no. Take a breath.” He tries to calm her down, rubbing her back in soft circles as she sucks in a deep breath.

“I made you mad…”

“You didn’t make me mad, I just had to help Grandpa Wayne with some stuff. He’s old now. He needs help.” Eddie offers, still rubbing her back. She calms down a bit, face pressed into his chest as she slowly puts herself back to sleep.

He carries her into her own room, making sure she’s nice and comfortable when he tucks her in before going back to the master bedroom to shower.

When he comes back out he finds you waiting on the bed, a smile smile tugging st your lips. “Hey stud.”

“Hi baby,” he whispers, moving to lay down. He gives you one kiss before laying down and shoving his face into the pillow quickly, desperate to sleep.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, rubbing a hand on his back.

“Nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Just wanted to give her space is all.” He sighs.

“She loves you Eddie.”

“I know.” He lies, closing his eyes to sleep

Motley spent the next day at the Harrington household while Eddie and you went to shop for some last minute gifts you hadn’t gotten at the beginning of the month.

With Christmas being only a week away now you were beginning to panic and Eddie was doing his best to ease your anxieties as you tried to think of what the girls would want.

“I think we got everything.” You sigh out when you make it to the car, Eddie pushing the cart filled to the brim with bags as he rubs your back. There was something off about you today and he felt guilty that he hadn’t come home until late last night.

“I think we did.” He moves away only to open the back of the van, beginning to pile all the bags in before he hears you gag and dash to the chunk of grass he parked near.

“Shit- “ he snaps, tripping over himself as he tries to get to you to hold your hair. “You okay? Nervous about Christmas?”

“Y-yeah…” you whine, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose to wipe the snot after you finish puking. “Over stressed myself is all.”

He sighs, helping you up and getting you set up in the van before moving to finish his original task.

He spends the rest of the day making sure you’re okay and wrapping the gifts. He tries to change his handwriting on the tags so Motley would think other people were signing them. Make her think she got a gift from Santa and the elves and one from Mrs. Claus before he took his coffee grounds and make a hoof print on the gift he had made from Rudolph.

He hides them all in the basements laundry room, moving to wake you up when he’s done.

Two days before Christmas Eve Motley and Ziggy go with Billy again, and Eddie makes himself scarce when they are dropped back off the next day, wanting to give Motley room to breathe in case she needs it.

He hides in the basement, keeping his headphones in as he practices guitar, hearing the echo of stomping around upstairs. She had come home in another mood, that much he had figured out by the sounds of her yelling when she came in.

The phone rings in the distance and Eddie ignores everything as he practices more riffs until your in front of him with a small smile. “That was Gareth. They wanted to rehearse? Asked if you could head over.”

“Oh?” He asks, standing up. The perfect excuse to give Motley some space without hurting anyone’s feelings had just arrived and he was gonna take it. “I’ll head over now.”

“Are you gonna be home for dinner?” You ask softly, face tense with worry and exhaustion.

“We’ll probably practice too late.” He sighs, kissing you before moving to walk away.

“Eds?” You call, making him look back at you as you stress. “Y-you’re okay…… right?”

“I’m okay.” He lies. Really he feels pathetic, useless, a lame ass excuse for a stepdad. ……he feels like his father.

She just needs space. He thinks to himself, smiling at you. But deep down he already knows it’s not working. He loves his girls but if they don’t love him back then he is just dragging them down.

And his heart breaks at the thought of the inevitable.

I don’t wanna say bye.

As he passes the hallway to pack clothes for the night he sees that the Tiffany poster on Motleys door had been ripped down the middle, and he risks a peek in to find it the missing piece wadded in the trash along with her fleetwood poster she got around thanksgiving.

Sighing in defeat he shuffles to grab his bag and head out.

The morning of Christmas Eve he wakes up to find that sometime in the night Motley had crawled into bed with you and Eddie, curled up between you two with tear streaks down her face.

Nightmares, nasty little things.

He kisses her cheek lightly before getting up to get ready for work. By the time he is putting on his boots he finds her yawning and sitting up.

“Are you leaving?”

“Only for a bit.” He tries to sound positive. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Swear it?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Triple swear it.” He smiles back, and something eases in him when a smile breaks out across her face, going from ear to ear.

So he leans to kiss her cheek, taking the good mood while he can before heading to work and coming back home by 5. Only to find Billy’s Camaro in the driveway when he does come home.

Walking into the house, tense and tired from the day, to find Billy sitting on the couch as you work in the kitchen. You send him a quick look and Eddie follows, rushing into the kitchen with you.

“He invited himself for dinner.” You whisper.

“Why?”

“Because Motley told me I couldn’t come for Christmas morning.” Billy snaps from the doorway, leaning on it like he owned the place. “Which is really fucking weird considering that I’m her dad. I should be able to see her on Christmas. And I can only assume that you’re the one saying no Munson.”

“Hadn’t even known that we had that discussion but sure. I’ll take the hit.” Eddie smiles. “Cause you are 1000% banned from this house on Christmas Day.”

“You can’t separate me from my kids.” Billy snaps.

“We’re not. You can have dinner with us tonight, but you can’t be here tomorrow.” There were far too many people coming tomorrow that Eddie did not want having to deal with Billy, and he didn’t want your day being ruined by this asshat.

“I’d prefer the dinner to be a family occasion” Billy snipes. “And last I checked you weren’t.”

“Eddie is family.” You snipe back, backing up when Billy glared at you. “This is our home. His home. He stays.”

And before he knew it everyone was seated at the table, in the most uncomfortable dinner of his life. You were just pushing food around your plate, while Eddie was doing his best to stay cool.

“How are your grades Motley?” Billy asks, turning a heavy look to her.

“I’m one of the top in my class-“

“One of?” Billy interrupts.

“They have top three. They all tie in that spot so the kids don’t lose self esteem in the competition.” Eddie explains, tapping a ring on the table in annoyance.

“That’s bullshit. If her grades are the best then that needs to be said-“

“She’s doing fine. Her grades will help win a pizza party at the end of the year.” You snap, rubbing her cheek.

“I just want to make sure I’m not raising a retard that turns into a super senior.”

“What’s that mean?” Motley asks, wide eyed as Ziggy shoves some spaghetti in her mouth.

“Oh baby, it’s noth-“ you begin but Eddie cuts you off, looking her gently.

“It means I wasn’t good in school. I got held back from graduating for three years. That’s right. I was held back another year after you…. Well you know.”

“You got something to say to me, jackass?”

“Not really.” Eddie snipes, picking up his plate and heading to the kitchen before he loses his temper. Lucky him that Billy was set to follow.

“So this is where Motley gets all that attitude huh?! Some shit for brain pathetic piece of shit starts raising my daughter, showing her shit music and telling her the world is all rainbows and sunshine. Right?!”

“We’ll she’s 7. The world is supposed to be a little brighter-“ Eddie starts, watching as Billy grabs the front of his jacket and shoves him into the cabinets behind him.

“You think you’re something, huh?! Well you’re nothing more than a trailer trash piece of shit!” Billy yells in his face, and Eddie remains bland. Not letting any motion on his face as he shrugs.

Motley was going to hate him.

This would never work because your kids needed to come first, and Eddie knew that. He would always put them first. If he stayed with you Motley would soon begin to resent you.

He couldn’t let that happen.

“No. I don’t think I’m anything more than a piece of shit. I’m quite good in that life.” He shrugs. “And it’s not shit music that she was listening to, it was her choice of music. Music she liked, and if she likes it then it’s not shit.”

Billy laughs bitterly, then Eddie can do nothing but watch his hand pull back into a fist, getting him right in the face.

Pain shoots through his face as his head hits the cupboard behind him hearing the wood crack at the impact. Motley screams out loud “DADDY!” And Eddie assumes she’s screaming for Billy to stop.

He didn’t want to hit her dad in front of her, so he took it. Punch after punch from Billy before you jump on the man’s back, hitting him to get him off Eddie.

Billy pushes you off quickly, making you tumble to the floor as Motley runs for you before you try and ease her back. Eddie can’t feel his face but he knows it’s swollen and bloody, spitting out the taste of iron as he swipes a hand under his nose, pain shooting through him when he does so.

Motley is still screaming, over and over “DADDY DADDY!” And when Billy takes one aggressive step over to where she is in your arms Eddie finally loses it.

He shoves at Billy’s back, drawing his attention back and taking one quick swing across Billy’s cheek. One of his rings slices his cheek as Billy’s head whips to the side. But Eddie doesn’t stop, too built up on protective rage.

Ziggy is screaming in the background, Motley crying for her dad while you hold her back. Eddie takes a couple more hits, pushing Billy to the door so they wouldn’t have an audience. Only problem is the second Eddie pushes Billy out he finds a cop car already waiting, the cop hopping out and rushing to the scene.

Christmas morning was spent inside a jail cell with a broken nose, Eddie laying on one of the benches staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about how much his face hurt right now.

One of the neighbors had heard yelling and called the cops, who had taken 15 minutes to respond. And since Eddie didn’t start hitting back until the end he could only assume that meant he had taken nearly 15 minutes of that beating.

What a fucking coward.

He had hit Billy in front of Motley. Oh my god her entire Christmas would be ruined right now. He was an absolute piece of shit.

“Hey kid?” Someone calls, making Eddie try to open his unswollen eye and see. Hopper stood there in mundane clothes, sighing in disappointment. “Thought we agreed last time I arrested you that it would be the last time.”

“What can I say?” He croaks out, dropping his head again. “I’m trailer trash. Always have been and always will be.”

“Come on pity party.” Hopper sighs, unlocking the door. “You’ve been cleared. Witness statements.”

So they had questioned you. Fuck.

When he grabs his rings and jacket from the clerk he doesn’t bother putting them on, keeping everything in the bag including his chain and wallet. He puts the shoes on, groaning in pain when he bends over, before moving to see that Wayne had come to pick him up.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie grunts, not bothering to smile due to the cut on his lip and cheek.

Wayne doesn’t say anything, merely leads Eddie out, keeping a hand on his arm to help lead him to the car since he can only open one eye.

When they are both jn Wayne lights a cigarette, handing it to his nephew. “Have some before we get there. Relax you a bit.”

“Get where?”

“Your house? It’s Christmas? We agreed I’d bring gifts for the girls and get a nice meal?” Wayne asks.

“No. I’m not going there. Not like this and not after that.” Eddie snaps, tears falling from his eye as he thinks about it. That would just ruin Motleys Christmas even more. He couldn’t do that.

“I just wanna sleep.”

“Edward Wayne Munson.”

“Wayne John Munson.”

The sigh that falls from his uncles lips tells Eddie that he won.

(A POV from you? Gasp!)

After watching Eddie and Billy both get arrested you had to give a statement to the police, not like you could actually get a word out considering you were sobbing.

Eddie was bleeding profusely and could barely open his eye when they dragged him to the car, Motley sobbing at your hip as they did so. The officer talking to you tried to calm you down, rubbing your back in a soothing motion that didn’t work and only stressed you out more. You begged them to let Eddie go but the officer said it was protocol and that you should call in the morning to give your statement.

But you didn’t. You sat there with that cop until you calmed down and gave a proper statement, he said he would write a report and get it all sorted so you took Motley in. Getting both girls showered and ready for bed. After tucking them in, still crying, you found yourself moving to the kitchen to clean up the mess. Starting with the the broken glass that had fallen, then the dishes before you moved to scrub the floor, crying harder when you had to scrub Eddie’s blood.

At some point Motley came out, rushing into your arms to keep sobbing so you took her back to yours and Eddie’s room to try and get her to sleep there. You put her in one of Eddie’s sweatshirts before laying with her and trying to calm her down.

“He hurt daddy.” She sobs.

“Honey, Eddie was just trying to-“

“No. Billy hurt Daddy.” She explains. “It’s my fault. I told him he couldn’t come over on Christmas!”

There it was. You had wondered since Billy brought it up, you hadn’t said anything and Eddie hadn’t. So why had Motley?

“Why would you do that Motley? That was an adult decision that you should have let me tell him. I don’t want you getting in trouble because-“

“He’s mean to daddy, I didn’t want him bullying daddy! Okay?!” She cries, swiping her cheeks. “But now Daddy hates me! He hates me mama!”

“No. He doesn’t. He doesn’t hate you, okay?”

“He does!”

It took all but 30 minutes to lure Motley out of room after Eddie left for Wayne’s, promising her some chicken nuggets for dinner and that was it.

She ate silently with you before bath time, then when you sat with her on the couch before her bedtime while Ziggy slept in her crib, you noticed her watching the door every 2 minutes.

“What’s wrong?” You whisper, smoothing out her still damp hair.

“Is daddy Eddie coming back for bedtime?” She asks, scratching her arm. “He always lays with me.”

“He’s gonna be at Grandpa Wayne’s tonight. Helping him out with something. We will see him tomorrow, okay metalhead?”

“Okay.”

Only when you called the next morning there was no answer, Motley getting dressed beside you with a look of excitement on her face as it rang.

“Is he there? Ask him when he’ll be home!”

“He didn’t pick up ,baby, I’m sure they are busy. We will see him later okay? Maybe we can have dinner at the diner.”

And that’s what she talked about for the rest of the day, you tried asking about her time at Billy’s but she simply shut the conversation down. By the time dinner time came about she was upset that Eddie hadn’t come back so you offered to go to Grandpa Wayne’s and pick them up.

You had been there for about 5 minutes when the van pulled up and you could hear the gasps of excitement from Motley when Eddie hops out.

Inviting him to dinner, only for Eddie to be nervous and say no. He looked upset, and you were beginning to panic deep down.

Please don’t leave us. I love you. You wanted to say but you were pretty sure that would scare him off more.

Who wanted the mother of two with the racist abusive ex? Right?

When you drove off without him Motley was just as upset. “Why didn’t he come mama?”

“He had some more stuff to help with.” You answer, smiling at her through the mirror.

“Why didn’t he say hi?”

“He’s just not feeling good.” Lie lie lie.

The next day you were doing laundry while Motley was dashing around upstairs and Ziggy was waddling around you.

The sound of the phone ringing didn’t draw your attention since you were too busy trying to kick the washing machine into working. But when your daughter dashed down the stairs you looked at her.

“PHONE!”

“Who is it?” You ask, laughing at her excitement as you snatch Ziggy up and follow her up the stairs.

“Daddy Eddie. He just wants to talk to you though.” And you found yourself rushing to the phone, only when you got there it was just the dial tone.

“Is he coming home? Can I do his hair when he gets back?” She asks hopefully.

“Maybe later.”

By the time you realized he was back Motley was on her own bed and the shower to your shared bathroom was running so you laid on the bed waiting for him to come out.

When he did your heart beat out of your chest, nervous and in love.

He laid down, face in the pillow as you let him know Motley loved him.

All he could say was “I know” before falling asleep and you were heartbroken.

He’s gonna leave.

Two days before Christmas Eve when Motley is dropped off from Billys he doesn’t say a word, merely tosses her bag at you as he slams his car door and drives off.

Motley storms past you, pushing into the door as you carry Ziggy in, watching her in shock. “I HATE HIM AND I HATE YOU!”

Eddie, who had been waiting in the kitchen, sulks downstairs to give her space and you feel a twist in your gut. “That’s not fair to Eddie, Mot.”

“I’m not talking about Eddie. I’m talking about HIM!” She screams, stomping to her room and ripping the poster from her door.

“Hey!” You snap, following her and trying to get her to stop as she tears down the Elvis and Fleetwood Mac poster.

“I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM! It’s bullshit!” She screams, slamming the door. Only she slams it so hard it creaks open a little. Before you could make it worse the phone rings and you find yourself heading downstairs to tell Eddie about the call.

The excitement on his face breaks your heart as you realize he is so desperate to get away from you. Jesus you trapped him didn’t you?

By the time Motley comes out of her room she looks around for a minute, sitting at the table. “Where’s daddy?”

“Band practice.” You smile.

“When will he be back?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just eat.” You felt bad about the short answer. But you were upset about the way she was acting and you were upset that she said she hated you. Not to mention the way she ripped the posters and the way Eddie seemed to run from you.

You already dragged her away from Billy once, now she was going to lose another father because of your mess. You were a terrible mother.

She hates me , and so does Eddie.

“He will be here, okay? Daddy would never miss Christmas.” You smile, crying softly yourself. “Just wait and see. Daddy will be home.”

She calmed down a bit at your promise, laying beside you.

“I asked santa for dad back last year….” She mumbles. “And he gave me an even better one.”

“Yeah, he did.”

You don’t get a lick of sleep, waiting all night for the sound of the door to open. They had to have released Eddie, right?

You overthink it all as you sneak all the gifts out to the tree, ones that Eddie wrapped while you were sick and see all the dedication he put into them which just makes your heart melt more.

When the sun starts coming up you realize that maybe no officers were there to release him and they would in the morning during normal processing hours so you focus on starting the meal and getting the girls ready.

Motley refuses to go near her presents, choosing to wait for Eddie. You’re okay with it, letting Ziggy open a gift since you know it will take her forever.

You focus on cooking while Motley waits on the couch watching out the window.

But then people start showing up for the early dinner and you begin to let that panic sink in. Steve shows up, his two sons dashing for Motley as Nancy waddles in behind them. They thought three dishes that they add to the table. Steve asks about the broken cabinet but before you explain Lucas and Mike show up with their own dishes.

One after one they all show up and sook enough you break from the crowd to go in your room and call the station.

“I’m looking for Edward Munson? He should have been released by now but-“

“He was released two hours ago.” The kid on the phone sighs. “Anything else.”

You don’t respond, choosing to hang out and close your door so your guests don’t see you cry.

He wasn’t coming, you had messed everything up like usual. God you were pathetic.

Just as Billy would say, useless as hell.

Shuffling to the bathroom to try and catch your breath, turning on the water and sitting under it as you try to ease the panic attack.

The pink pregnancy test box stares back at you from the trash bin, the actual test on the counter where you had planned to surprise Eddie.

God I can’t do anything right.

Part lll HERE

(OHHHH I really hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Please please please no hate on it! If you want to see something specific such as a blurb or scene with Eddie and the girls feel free to request. -Ultralight)

Taglist::: (Let me know if you want removed)

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

leveling the playing field V

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!!

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: head empty, no thoughts. only this fic. but i should say if you enjoy it please reblog!! it means so much to us as writers, and who knows! maybe one of your mutuals is missing out on their future favourite fic ;)

next part

You're about to walk out the door, heading to the academy to meet Coryo before the games start. To try and prepare as best you can.

"Y/N, wait." Your dad stops you as you reach for the handle, and you quickly turn to him.

"Yes?" You know better than to rush him, but you already were running slightly behind schedule.

"Good luck today." He says and you nod at him.

"Thank you."

"And don't let Coriolanus down." There it is. "He is helping you, he didn't have to do that. Don't ruin this for him. If he needs anything, get it for him. If he tells you to jump, ask how high. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod, a pit forming in your stomach. The pressure was on, not that it wasn't already, but now it was so much more real.

"Now, hurry up. Don't keep him waiting." He dismisses you, and you don't have to be told twice.

When you reach the academy, you rush inside. You were always rushing places, these days. The building was almost deserted, it was still quite early, but only two minutes until the time you agreed to meet Coryo in the courtyard. The Games were set to start in just under three hours, and you weren't sure what you would fill that time with, but that is what he asked of you so that is what you will do.

The last you had seen him was only about four or so hours ago, when he walked you home after stopping at the zoo to bring Lucy Gray the arena layout and he gave her a compact. One she promised to give back after the games, after crying over what today would bring. You felt bad, but mostly because you felt it was somewhat inconvenient that she would waste time over tears when you had important information for her on where to go and how to hide. This was valuable to her. Every moment counted if she wanted to walk out of the arena alive.

You spot Coryo pacing the courtyard through the window before you push it open, stepping out onto the path as the cool air brushes over your skin. It was July, but the mornings were still crisp.

"Sorry I'm almost late, I-"

"It's okay." He interrupts you as you get closer. He really only wanted you there for company, and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in this time anyway. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, if a little tired." You shrug. "You?"

"Fine." He echoes your answer, just standing there staring at you in the silence. He really wasn't afraid of silence- but you were.

"What about your back? Recovering okay? I have some extra morphing if you're in pain." You offer, already reaching for your bag just for the sake of giving yourself something to do with your hands.

Confusion takes over his features. "Morphling?" He asks, brow furrowed. "Why do you have that on you?"

"Migraines, twisted ankles, cramps..." You answer. "You never know when you'll need some." You hold the small tube out to him, but he shakes his head, pushing your hand down.

He was sore, it wouldn't hurt, but something about taking it from you felt wrong. "No thank you, I'm fine." It would make sense that you would have it, though it was only accessible by prescription. It was likely your dad who prescribed it to you, if only so you could have it on hand. Or because he knows how often you're hurting, or he doesn't want you acting hurt- exposing the irony of having an abusive father who's also the most sought-after doctor in all of the Capitol. Morphling numbs the body, but also the mind. It's highly addictive, expensive to those who could access it, and not for the faint of heart- but you showed no signs of addiction. You must not take it often, therefore there's no real reason for him to be worried.

"Suit yourself." You shrug, tucking the vial away again. "Let me know if you change your mind. We have a long day ahead."

He nods in confirmation, joining you as you sit down on a bench nearby. "What did you give Lucy Gray last night, anyway?"

"A compact?" He feigns confusion, knowing the true implications of your question.

"Duh, Mister President." You tease. "I meant what was in it?"

Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He has to answer casually, lest face your anger issues when he shows any guilt about cheating. "Uh, nothing." That wasn't a total lie, he just left out the part where he implied that Lucy Gray could find something within the cage at the zoo that would fit nicely in it, something like rat poison.

"Nothing?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "You just gave her that as a gift?"

"Something like that." He shrugs, and your expression reads as though you're not buying it. "If she happened to find something to put in it, something that could help her, that would be just an unrelated convenience."

You freeze, staring at him in disbelief. "Coryo." You whisper, slapping his shoulder to get him to look at you as you read between the lines. "Something like rat poison? That's cheating! Are you kidding me right now?"

"What?" He defends, sitting up straighter as he looks over at you again. "It's my only shot! If she doesn't win, I can kiss the prize goodbye."

"It's not about her winning, Coriolanus. It's about the efficacy of the mentorship! Dean Highbottom said-"

"Dean Highbottom despises me, winning is the only thing I can do to get him to even glance at my mentorship as an option." He argues and you groan, burying your face in your hands.

He watches you, and suddenly feels regret for his decision. If only because you didn't approve of his actions. "Okay." You sigh, dropping your hands into your lap again and sitting up straighter. "Okay. We can work with it. As long as she is smart about it, we won't get caught. And like you said, we didn't do anything. It was just a gift."

"I warned her. She knows." He assures you. Really, there's no harm done unless you get caught. And should Lucy Gray become the victor, your life plan will fall beautifully into place. It will be worth it, you're ashamed you didn't think of such a thing first.

After everyone else arrived, the two of you decided to make a fashionably late entrance, walking into the newly decorated hall, containing many students and professors alike, the large screens against the back wall displaying all of the remaining tributes and the Hunger Games logo, where the games themselves will be aired. You were excited and scared all at once.

"Y/N, Coriolanus." Dean Highbottom greets you as you enter, taking in the atmosphere. Both of you grace him with just a nod. "I'd advise you to tell your friend Sejanus to find a seat near the door..." He adds quietly before walking off, leaving the two of you confused.

Coryo doesn't seem to think too much about it, just heading down the stairs. You follow behind him, head held high to counteract any of your peer's bitter staring or laughs. Everyone knew you didn't qualify for a mentorship, and to most, you just appeared to be following Coriolanus Snow around like a lost puppy, hoping to get the scraps of his success.

They won't be laughing when you are Head Gamemaker, that's for sure. But even then, will that not also be the scraps of his success? Him appointing you to the job of your dreams after his inauguration, will that not appear to be out of bias or pity? This isn't a question you have time to let bother you. Your future starts today.

When the games are about to start, you follow Coryo over while he decides which desk to take, deciding on one in the back row close to where you will be sitting. "Good luck." You grin, placing a hand on his forearm.

He looks down at where your hand is brushing over his coat sleeve and he nods.

You get closer, standing on your tip-toes to whisper to him. "Snow lands on top."

A small smile forms on his face. "Snow lands on top." He whispers back, grabbing your hand for only a moment, afraid of the Dean or Dr. Gaul taking notice. That would only serve to get you both in trouble.

You sit in the first row of benches where Coryo can see you, can easily look to you for help. He's grateful to have you in his peripheral, knowing that you're there, and you're not leaving, is what he didn't realize he really needed.

You both watch silently as the tributes walk out to their designated spots surrounding the pile of rubble in the center of the arena. You were there just last night, but now it looks scarier- even in the light of day. Maybe it's because you know what you are about to witness. All you can do is hope Lucy Gray won't be the first down.

Your heart drops into your stomach when the camera pans to show Sejanus's tribute- the one who escaped, hung from a beam by both his wrists. It's hard to look at, and along with the gasps that echo through the hall and Lucky's commentary, you hear a chair scraping and your eyes land on Sejanus, who's now standing in the middle of the room. He's seething, you can see it in the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest and in the contraction of seemingly every muscle in his body. That's what Dean Highbottom meant- he knew Sejanus would be leaving quickly. You stand as well, your intuition telling you he won't be leaving quietly. Neither would you, if you were in his place.

In a second, Sejanus is throwing his desk and everything on it at the large screen in front of him, screaming in anger. "You're all monsters!"

You find your feet carrying you toward the screaming boy, but he's shoving past you to leave before you get the chance to talk to him. Hug him, something. You stumble back at the contact, able to save yourself from falling as your eyes follow Sejanus out the door.

Coryo saw you get knocked back by the force of Sejanus's misplaced rage, and he wanted to check on you. Make sure you are okay, but the games are about to start. He promised Dr. Gaul that you would receive no sympathies from him, and her eyes are burning into both of your backs so he settles for shaking his head at you when you look like you want to follow Sejanus. Doing so would not only leave him alone, but sympathizing with him would align you with his attitudes, however irrelevant to your own opinions.

"Y/N." Coryo says to you, and when you look at him he shakes his head. Stay, he's saying. It's like he can read your mind. But he needs you to stay.

Surely, Sejanus needs you more. Surely, it would just be a few minutes. Then you remember what your father told you this morning and you smooth your shirt back down, returning to your seat. The games hadn't even started yet, and you're already facing hard decisions.

"You should go home." Coriolanus mutters to you, readjusting his posture in the uncomfortable chair.

"Huh?" You ask, looking up at him from where you're sitting on the floor next to his desk. After everyone else left, there was no use in sitting so far away when you could finally talk candidly about the events of the day.

"Go home." He repeats and you shake your head, attempting to salvage what was left of your hairstyle, which was carefully pinned back this morning.

"I can't, I'll stay. You can go home." You reply, looking up at the screen again. Nothing new had happened in a long time- but you didn't want to miss it if it did.

"Why not?" He yawns.

"My parents are expecting me to stay with you until it's over." You explain.

Coryo sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "I'd invite you to stay with me, but we aren't prepared for guests." Neglecting to mention, of course, the unmaintained mess the Snow apartment had turned into over the last twelve or so years.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect that of you. One of us should be here anyway." You wave it off. "Go home, get some rest."

As soon as he's packed up and left, insisting he won't be gone for long, you make yourself comfortable in his chair with your eyes trained on the screen. You have to stay awake. Lucy Gray could make an appearance any second in search of water, food, anything. You have to stay alert. You can't let Coryo down.

You're jolted awake by the sound of gravel crunching under footsteps, echoing over the speakers from microphones inside the arena. Shit. You fell asleep, you weren't supposed to fall asleep. Immediately you're looking for Lucy Gray onscreen, looking for her body, looking for any sign of her but you see none. If there had been a fight, if she had been screaming, that would have woken you up before footsteps did.

You squint to see what's going on, eyes landing on two figures in the middle of the arena, under the beam that Lamina is lying on, still seemingly asleep. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you realize who the two people are. Sejanus and Coryo. Your friends. Inside the arena, standing over the body of Sejanus's tribute. You recall that one of the female tributes, Lamina, had killed him and cut him down. You suspected that he asked her to- so what were the boys doing in there?

You can't tear your eyes away- what can you even do? They're talking too quietly for the microphones to pick up. Why are they even there? If Coriolanus had planned this he would have told you. This is too reckless, even for him.

You're not helping by sitting and watching. You have to get there.

Abandoning your bag, you walk as fast as you can manage out of the Academy building before making a run for it, heading in the direction of the arena. You don't even have a plan as to what you'll do when you get there. Do you go in? You'll be risking your life without a doubt. You can't risk calling them, you'll practically be summoning the most violent and angry of the tributes right to them, and to you.

When you see the arena, there are people standing outside and several peacekeeper trucks. At least people know.

"What the hell is happening?" You ask, walking up to the first person you see. A peacekeeper.

"You can't be here, Miss. You have to go." They start to push you back and you shove them away by the front of their helmet.

"Don't touch me! My friends are in there and I need to know what's happening right now!" You're trying to keep your voice down, but you need answers- urgently.

"Miss Y/L/N," You hear Dr. Gaul's voice and the peacekeeper lets you go, motioning for you to go over and join her where she is standing with the Dean, and people you recognize as Sejanus's parents are standing by a black vehicle nearby.

"What's going on?" You ask again, firmly as you walk up to the group.

"Sejanus got inside, we don't know who let him in. Coriolanus went in to coax him out."

"What? Why not send peacekeepers? Coriolanus could die in there and you let him go anyway?" It's hard to even believe they would allow a student to walk into harm's way like that. And not just any student, either. Coriolanus Snow.

"If we sent in peacekeepers Sejanus would run. Coriolanus is the only one he would trust so they could leave unnoticed." Dean Highbottom explains.

You scoff, pointing into the gates. "Then why are they still in there?"

"Sejanus is in a difficult place right now, Miss Y/L/N-"

"Yeah. Fuck this." You roll your eyes, taking off your blazer and dropping it on the ground before rolling up your sleeves, and making your way over to the gate.

"Miss Y/L/N, you can't go in there." Dr. Gaul half-heartedly tries to stop you.

"Watch me." You state and the peacekeepers open the gate, letting you in. She must have allowed them to, otherwise they wouldn't.

You're mindful of your steps, trying to be as quiet as possible. You hop over the turnstiles, your landing making the two boys' heads snap toward you.

"It's just me." You whisper, knowing they can't see you in the dark but the large open space will still carry your voice.

"Y/N?" You hear Coryo reply, clearly confused.

"Yeah. We have to go, come on. Come with me."

"Go back!" He hisses. "You can't be here!"

"Neither can you!" Now is not the time for fighting. For once, he needs to listen to you.

He just huffs, turning back to Sejanus, you're assuming to try and talk him down.

"Okay, I've got a plan." You say this time walking back through the bars, triggering the mechanism.

Enjoy the show!

You try not to wince at the loudness of the voice, knowing by now that any nearby tributes must have heard that. If the Coral's pack had heard, clearly being the biggest threat, they'd be here soon so you pick up your pace, running back to the bars that surround the arena in one large circle.

Coryo is calling you to try and get you to stop, to leave, but his whispers don't make it to you anymore.

"Give up?" Dean Highbottom asks you from the other side, and you pick up a large rock from the ground.

"Nope." You shake your head, beginning to walk around the outside, far from the entrance before you start banging it against every bar you walk past. Just for fun, you begin to sing one of Lucy Gray's songs. Maybe, that will be less obvious of a diversion.

When Coriolanus and Sejanus hear the ruckus you're making outside, the banging accompanied by the sound of your voice moving slowly around the outside of the large arena, they look at each other in a mutual panic.

"Sejanus, please. We have to go now." Coriolanus pleads with him, and he looks back down at Marcus for a moment before nodding.

"But we're taking Marcus with us."

"Okay, whatever. Yes." Coriolanus agrees desperately, already grabbing the boy's legs.

They start to carry him toward the exit, picking up pace as they hear that your diversion has worked, echoing voices working their way around the outside of the arena. That's Coryo's primary concern- until they hear what can only be attributed to a war cry from behind them, another tribute with a large knife sprinting after them.

Wordlessly, they both drop Marcus and start to run.

Once you heard what you were sure was Coral's group running up behind you, still out of view, you changed your tune.

"Gem of Panem, mighty city, through the ages you shine anew!"

With this, you hear their confusion and anger increase tenfold, along with their speed.

You start running, dragging the rock along every bar.

"Come back, Capitol Princess! What are you so afraid of?" You hear Coral's familiar voice shout at you, getting closer.

They're laughing now, following you around the outside of the arena. Hopefully, Coryo is out because now it's a race. You're on the opposite side now, and have a long way to go to get back around. You ditch the rock, picking up a full sprint.

You can hear them gaining on you with every step, and you ditch your pride and start to yell about halfway back. "Open the gate!" You scream, hoping someone can hear you, and open it for you to make a quick escape. Every inch you have on the three tributes following you counts, and you're losing that valuable space very quickly. You've never been much of an athlete.

You round the side of the building, seeing the gate partially open, and Coryo is standing there holding a hand out to you. "Y/N/N! Come on!"

As soon as you get close enough he grabs your arm and pulls you through, yanking you back as the peacekeepers slam the gate again in the faces of the tributes. Barbarically they slam their weapons against the bars, making you jump as you crash into Coryo's chest. He's got his arms around you now, holding the back of your head protectively as they eventually give up and walk away, stalking off like a pack of wild animals who had lost their prey; except you don't think they planned on eating you. Just killing you for the fun of it, to leave your family and the city tortured the same way it was over the murder of Arachne Crane.

You're breathing heavily and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your head, maybe it's his. You can't even really tell.

"You shouldn't have done that." He mumbles to you, gripping onto you as tight as ever. He wants to scold you, tell you that you were too reckless for your own good. That you could have been killed; but he can't. He doesn't care. In this moment, he is only concerned with one thing. "Are you alright?"

You inhale, trying to focus on slowing your laboured breaths as you nod against his shoulder. You couldn't speak, even if you wanted to. You couldn't argue with him and tell him you were only trying to help, and you would argue that you did.

"Coriolanus." Dr. Gaul says, walking up and looking him over. "You'll need stitches, come back with me to my lab." She instructs and he lets you go.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, pushing your hair back out of your eyes to look at you more clearly. You just nod, biting on the inside of your cheek.

"Fine." You assure him quietly, heart still racing behind your ribs. "Go get stitched up."

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #the hunger games #thg #thg fanfiction

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lundenloves · 6 months

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IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, I MEET MY FATHER WHEN HE IS A CHILD

〔 yeah this had no idea being as emotionally intense as it was, and for that, i will take a swig of this wine i’m drinking. a rhône red. this is based off the poem by nikita gill — and dedicated to all the girlies who relate. i love you, you are seen. 〕

˗ˏˋ i have a lot of requests in my inbox. i’ll take ages to do them because all of my time is stolen by the ceiling whom i stare at lovingly. it’s been really rough lately folks, i won’t lie.

⇀ warnings of brief abuse mentions | 1.7k

dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | taglist | request info

A father and his youngest daughter. Simon and his youngest daughter. A concept so simple but also complex. The last one to need dad, the last one to be embarrassed of him, the last one to scoff after consoling kisses to her temple, the last one to say bye to him and the last one to move out. Every of his efforts landed enough for surface satisfaction, though not deep enough to reject tears over TikTok slideshows. Father quotes, embedded between photos of old and new paintings, some of animals hugging and others of people.

What if you met your father when he was a child? It said, eleven words that joined together to create a swell of pity in her stomach. The clock turned three and darkness welcomed the girlhood routine of small houred upset.

In another universe,

I meet my father

when he is a child.

Her chest hurt. She hadn’t said bye to him, too busy on the phone with her friend. Undoubtedly another teenage drama, one that lasted only an hour at best when saying goodbye could’ve taken mere seconds and lasted forever. He stood in her door frame, camouflage clad and knocking to enter.

“Bye.” She’d mumbled, now touching her shoulder at the invisible feeling of his hand. A touch that she had learned meant love from her father, his calloused fingers padding twice before pressing a kiss to her cheek and walking out. He always closed the door behind him, a fatherhood instinct he had picked up from the years.

She viscerally pictured his youth. An image near scolded into her brain from the single photo she had seen. Stood without a smile, hand raised to bite on his nail. He was small against his older brother who looked just the same, a distant hand placed on Simon’s shoulder. It was something that she thought about often, about how even in his childhood she hadn’t seen one smile.

It was telling.

We play catch in the woods

and as we play he tells me

he isn’t allowed to cry

but sometimes the world

hurts him and he doesn’t know

what to do with all that pain.

One tear fell. She could hear the young voice, something so untainted but so far from happiness. A nonchalance sprouted from a young age, said with a shrug and a wide eyed stare — something like an animal in headlights. Her own childhood easily caught up to his, passing him by without a look back. The boy dropped his arm and watched her walk by, dark circles made home under his eyes and the bruises on his arms harbored, making their place known for years to come.

So I give him the shoulder he needs to cry on.

And he does. He does

Until the tears are done.

Her lip tasted salty, one or two more tears dropping for the thought of her father at her age. Still and silent, an observant soul with a foul temper. One tested more than he would’ve hoped or had energy for — if not his father, then school peers, finding joy in persistent teasing for his solemn stares and aggressive responses.

It was something he had carried to adulthood, to parenthood. Dropping the bag of trauma at the door and doing his best to avoid the handle, locking the door and throwing away the key to avoid stepping near or on anything delicate. Anything that could set him off, for anger and upset had been merged into one. Because it wasn’t right to be emotional, it wasn’t right to cry or show visible turmoil because that’s not what men were like was it? Nevermind a five, nine, twelve or sixteen year old boy.

Tears were the crime, anger was the fine. Even now, his rare despair came laced with anger and she couldn’t help in finding similarities to herself. She was her fathers’ daughter. Her smile, her eyes and her cry. Silent. Her ears went red the same way his did, her pitch raised when on the defence and her tears came at night when no one was around to see them.

Like now.

As she lay in bed, wiping tear-stained cheeks in a house bought from what was ultimately Simon’s life. Every deployment it seemed far fetched to assume he wouldn’t come back, though it was easy to forget the very real possibility. His texts kept her mind from wandering too far, a simple text of good morning or night. Something he knew was reassuring, because as much as she was his daughter he was also her father.

Afterwards, I buy him ice cream

and I listen to his laugh,

the glowing warm laugh

of a child who knows he is safe.

Isn’t it weird how you can feel it in your chest and stomach when something really hurts your feelings? A sinking feeling, one that you can’t seem to shake until your head decides to alleviate you of the weight. Her head spun at the thought, her father as a child and this continuous feeling — something that happened so often he almost found comfort in it.

Familiarity runs a person. It’s undeniable, anything merely familiar is a driving point for the average individual. Though it was easy to forget the definition was different for everyone. For some, it was being born into a burning house with spits of fire. The inclination to find a human equivalent of petrol just to start a riot, finding home in forever arguments and turbulence. Simon was scared that’s what he would create, a lineage of trauma and anger.

But he hadn’t. Not to the extent he was worried for anyway, instead, his girls were extended parts of the warmth he feared yet craved so deeply. The feeling of safety was a necessity growing up, it’s grounding — something he wasn’t a party of privilege to and it made his daughter sob.

It made her sob how his hugs were forever tainted by his childhood. A fear to hold both arms tight in favor of a one armed distancing method, one that was abolished when drunk and she received his longing. Constant drunken smiles, laughs, hugs and words of affirmation. Her phone was pulled from the bedside table, scrolling to find his contact and phoning him without a second thought.

It was even later where he was, but still the phone barely had a chance to ring once before he had answered. “Hi, you alright?” Voice hoarse from sleep, forever in concern.

She imagined him sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his eyes with a mighty frown across his brow. One that would soften as she began to cry down the line, “I feel bad I didn’t say bye to you.”

“You did.” He’d almost laugh instantly, his own attempt to lift her up from thousands of miles away. “Don’t cry over it.” A pause. “It’s late where you are, eh?” The creak of his bed sounded over the phone and she knew he was getting up to start his day rather than go back to sleep.

I wish someone could

have done that for him.

She hated it. The way he would throw emotion away by retreating to his room for days after coming home. It was something she hadn’t paid any attention to being younger, but the older she got, and the older he got, it became obvious. The undeniable anxiety in his shaky hands, all pent up worry from being so still on the field releasing. He couldn’t hold a mug for days, growing red faced out of frustration and subsequent embarrassment over the inability to do something so simple.

“Are you alright dad?” She’d ask, watching from the threshold as he clinked the ceramic against the counter — a crass sound filling the room and then his puff of anger. The tea spilled across the surface, his fist encouraging the flow with a thump against the marble. “I’ll get it.” Voice quiet, wary eyes catching his own.

His jaw tightened at her presence, pushing both hands up through his hair and down to rub his face. “No, it’s—” He cut himself off with a timely blink. “Sorry.” He motioned to the spillage, taking steps backward to lean against the surface behind him, instantly zoning out.

Sometimes he wanted to cry.

But it didn’t ever happen.

Been a kind, safe place

for the child he used to be.

Would it have made a difference?

The worst feeling in the world was that of neglect. The feeling of loving someone so hard, on your knees in front of them begging for them to love you back, and yet, only receiving a familiar feeling of disappointment running cold in your veins. Nothing but abuse and torment, the pining for warmth becoming redundant against each icy spit. It was worse coming from someone you looked up to. Anyone from a friend to a sister and a brother. But worst of all. A parent.

Because there was something devastating about the lack of parental love for a youth. Those key years are knocked for six by the physical blows and emotional hits. It shapes you. Molds each crevice in your brain to whatever badness it feels, manifesting in forms of wrathful anger or complete silence, a primal human instinct to protect yourself.

Not that it ever worked.

It never does.

Instead, it works in tandem with the abuser. Silence aiding an escalation of the inevitable. But one or two hits isn’t so bad, right? The purpling of your cheekbones feels like home and it’s not something you can ever leave.

Simon recognised that from a young age.

And if the tears hadn’t been beaten out of him and he was able, he would’ve cried. Ten years old, yet his tears had already run out.

But would it have made a difference?

as always, comments are reblogs are highly highly appreciated! if no one pats me on the head every now and then, i’ll fall down a hole.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @iluvoaldmen @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob @spencerreidisbae123 @paperbag-prncss @cookiecutta

i cant tag more than 50 people, so will tag in comments!

i tag x reader as it’s your family with him, your daughter.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw fanfiction #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley headcanons #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley headcanons #ghost cod #ghost call of duty

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joellkeeny · 2 years

Text

✧*:･ﾟdad!steve x fem!reader

warnings: smut. dad steve. kids.

— ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

He's panting into your shoulder, arm wrapped tight around your middle as he slowly ruts into you. You're both on your sides, your whole upper body touching his, the hints of dark tufs of hair adorning his chest rubbing over your back while his skin slides over yours deliciously. His other arm is curled over your chest, your cheek pressed against his bicep while his hand grips your shoulder, forearm just under your chin. It's a slow roll of bodies, heated skin on heated skin, hearts beating together as shy and quiet sounds fall past your lips, trying to preserve the few hours of silence you get in the morning for just the two of you, the sun rays beaming on the wall in front of you, but the golden hues are not the important thing at the moment, but the calculated thrusts of Steve's hips against your own.

His voice is still thick with sleep, a deep rumble resonating through his chest and against your back as he clutches onto you tighter, almost lifting you off the bed to keep you impossibly closer. You're limp under his touch, your hand gripping the crisp white sheets available and with all your efforts, you try to keep quiet. But how can you when the thick girth of his cock is stretching you out so well, making your thighs tremble and shake with each bump of his ruddy tip against your sweet spot.“D'you like that, baby? Like this pussy stuffed full?” You never thought Steve Harrington, dad of a five year old girl, could have such a foul mouth, but he always manages to prove you wrong. One moment he's playing with whatever silly dolls your daughter brought him, and the other he's having you pressed up against the bedroom door, too impatient to walk a few steps to the bed before he's inside you.

The answer you give to his question, is almost pathetic, eyes screwed shut, ass arching back against him with a weak cry, your hand grabbing onto his forearm which is pressed over your chest, making him groan in your ear, his face pressing in the side of your neck where he had sucked a few marks earlier, nipping at them in a teasing manner just as he always liked to do.

You've been going at it for a while, your walls now abused and raw, puffy clit throbbing under the occasional attention the tip of his cock brought to it whenever he would slide out and give it a few taps before returning to the designated place he seems to always crave being inside of. Your stomach churning with pleasure as your muscles start to lock against him, pressing your face into the crook of his arm to muffle your sounds before a thumping sound echoes through the hall, on the other side of the door. You recognize the small feet which create the sound. “Fuck-” Steve curses behind you, pulling the covers up to cover your chest, continuing to drive into you shamelessly as he bites on your shoulder.“Mommy...” Another voice, high and squeaky echoes through the walls which you recognize as your daughter and you almost want to cry, knowing that you have to pull away from Steve on the brink of orgasm, one that you've been craving for a while, but when you give the first try at getting up you realize you're practically jelly against the mattress which results in Steve giving a teasing chuckle before he breaks out in a quiet moan, sound pressed into the back of your neck, blunt nails digging into your shoulder. “Can you come upstairs?” Your daughter tries again and before you can even open your mouth, though you're sure you're not able to speak coherently, he takes it upon himself to do so.

“Mommy's coming, honey, don't worry.” Steve calls back, proud of the filthy double meaning of his words and you relax back when you hear the footsteps crawling back up the stairs. His lips are pressed to your ear, panting hotly against it, sending a full body shiver through you before he picks up the pace, the once fading pleasure building back up out of the blue.“Oh yeah she is, ain't that right?” He murmurs lowly in your ear, dark chuckle matching his tone and you can practically feel him smirk against your skin when he feels you nod rapidly while clenching down on him, release flooding your senses suddenly and the evidence of it leaking down his cock while he fucks himself raw into you until he's grunting out, cursing and digging his nails into you as he fills you up just as he promised.

dinner dates with dad!steve

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

#stranger things #x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington is pretty #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve the hair harrington #steve x reader #fem reader #dad steve harrington #joellkeeny #steve stranger things #st4 #steve harrington blurb

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rafebaby · 3 months

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🎀 Blurb #2 Rafe needs to get kook!reader alone after she catches him doing coke for the first time 🎀 (Continuation of blurb #1, if you will)

Warning: mentions of drug abuse

As Rafe saw you appear in front of him a few hours ago, he had felt his heart sink. Eyes filled with countless question marks and a massive heap of disappointment met his gaze. But true to form, he had distanced himself too much from reality to respond with consideration. And so, he had let you leave with Sarah, needed you to leave with Sarah, as the pain and embarrassment made him feel nauseous. He immediately decided to fled his feelings by doing what he did best: letting himself sink into the couch and hitting the bong that was being passed around.

Year after year, Rafe had successfully put up the 'kook prince act' in front of you and further kept his distance, because he knew that a girl like you would never go with a guy like him. He accepted the way it was, was happy to know you only knew the Rafe he wanted you to know, so that your idea of him, the version of that was living in your mind, was at least someone you respected.

He breaks from his thoughts, still sunk into the couch, to check the clock. The fuzzy numbers come into focus, showing it's twenty past twelve. He figures about two hours have passed, but a twinge of unease hits him as he suddenly realizes you've been navigating his house, mingling at his party, surrounded by all these stupid people, and even worse, by all these stupid boys. He imagines them swarming around you. The mere thought propels him into action. Though without a clear plan, an instinct pushes him to seek you out. Without informing his friends, he starts wandering through the gathering, hoping you haven't left. To his surprise, he halts abruptly as he spots you sooner than expected. You're seated with Sarah and her friends on the porch sofas, drink in hand, but your gaze fixed on the floor while everyone else engages in lively conversation.

Rafe stood there watching for a bit, summoning courage, unsure of what to do next, taking in all of your features and how the shade of pink of your dress enhances all of them. From your plush lips, to your rosy cheeks and everything beyond. He struggles not to roam your body. Your thighs and waist. Your soft, exposed shoulders, your elegant neck... Another knot forms in his stomach when he sees the guy sitting next to you lean in, whispering something into your ear with a dumb smirk on his face. Your laughter noticeably uncomfortable.

Rafe movements are swift, propelled towards you before his thoughts catch up. Determined but slightly unsteady, he strides up to the porch. "Hey (y/n)!" Your face and the others' shoot up simultaneously, a collective startle. The boy who had tried to be so smooth just half a minute ago now shows a pale complexion at the unexpected sight of the Cameron's son. "Your dad's on the phone asking for you." Rafe lies easily. You rise abruptly, confusion and concern etched on your face. "What?" you question, and Rafe, managing to keep the deception going, adds, "Yeah, uh, it's urgent." You start walking over to him, past him, inside the house. "In the office." He adds impulsively, voice a little raised to cut through the music and general party noise. Without sparing him another glance, you make your way through the crowd and the rooms, through the hallway and eventually into the office. Rafe following closely behind you, struggling to keep up with your fast pace. He hates to worry you like this, but tries to convince himself it's for the better. After all, he had to save you from that no-good boy's intent.

Inside the office, your nervous movements intensify as you search for the phone, and Rafe quietly closes the door behind him. "Where is it?" you stammer out with an unusual frustration. "Where's what?" he feigns ignorance, opting to play dumb in the absence of a clear direction. "The phone, Rafe!" you express annoyance, and he stutters, "Oh, yeah, right, uh..." His gaze involuntarily drops to the floor beneath him, caught in the web of his own deceit. "there's no phone,", "there's no phone?","yeah, no," he pauses, and you just stand there looking at him in utter confusion.

"I didn't mean to lie, but..." he begins, interrupted with a firm "but you did..." "Yeah, just listen, okay," a glimmer of his fiery self surfaces. "I just felt like you needed to get out of there. Th-that guy is no good, you know, he's a creep." Your brows furrow deeper, and you counter, "He was harmless, Rafe, he just kept on making dumb jokes.", "You don't know him," he mumbles, his face clenching in growing anger. "Well, I don't really seem to know you either," you remark, your voice now carrying a sad realness. Your comment pierces Rafe right in the heart.

"You do," Rafe says desperately, "you do, (y/n), you've known me for years." You scoff and lift your eyes in disbelief. "I thought so too, but honestly, Rafe—" He cuts you off, unable to bear it any longer, striding closer. Your instinct is to take a step back, but you resist, refusing to let him intimidate you. "You do know me," he declares, locking eyes with intensity. "Just not the foolish version of me."

You can't deny its effect on you, your heart racing due to his proximity. You loathe how your feelings for him demand attention—feelings you wanted to bury after witnessing his actions earlier tonight. It shattered your heart; he looked so tense, aggressive, even feral, in that moment. Nothing like the composed, gentle Rafe you found yourself daydreaming about after family events. Yet, as he stands before you now, he appears strangely beautiful, with different versions of him seemingly in conflict. You just wait for him to say something.

"I just," he clears his throat, breaking eye contact nervously, "wanted to be good for you," Not realizing the way it makes your heart flutter. A spark of confindence pushes you to ask: "why's that?" You briefly look down, only to meet his gaze again. "Because you like me that way," he confesses, "and I wanted you to like me.", "And why's that?" you repeat yourself, wanting to dig deeper, seeking the truth from his lips.

Gazing at you tenderly, softening as only he can, he continues, "How could I not want you to like me?" His hand reaches out for yours, attempting to draw you closer, fueled by the substances coursing through his veins, providing him with the confidence to make such a move. Somehow, in the way you look at him, he senses a chance. He likes your patience, waiting for his answers. Everytime he was near you, he felt the constant knot in his chest, loosen.You are his best sedative, one he could live off if you'd allow it. "You are so sweet, so perfect," he whispers tenderly, gently fidgeting with your fingers, "too good for me." You squeeze his hands, looking down momentarily.Before overthinking, you lift your face to his, planting a soft yet lingering kiss on his cheek. Maintaining your closeness, you say, "I like you, Rafe." His heart leaps, locking eyes with yours, faces inches apart. On impulse, he moves in to kiss you, but you step back, declining his affection, causing a sinking feeling in his chest.

"Let's keep this for a sober moment...", he nods defeated but understandingly. "come by tomorrow?", he asks, desperation seeping through. Unexpectedly, you release a chuckle. It's like music to his ears, albeit a bit confusing. "Persistent, aren't you?", you comment with a playful glimmer in your eyes. You're taunting him, he realizes, causing a grin to appear on his face while he shakes his head. "I can be!" He warns you finally, trying to be serious. But you know better. With one last chuckle, you leave the office, leaving him behind once more,but this time with a whole other feeling oozing through his body.

___

Writer's note: And that guys, is where I put and end to it. For now at least. Is this even still a blurb at this point? Telling myself this is a blurb makes it just easier to start writing. Dont mind me casually manipulating myself for the sake of fanfiction. Anyway... I really hope you like it! And don't hesitate to interact with my content or to send me your thoughts or requests. I'm open! Lots of love, Rafebaby xxx

#drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe blurb #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine

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unabashednightmarepizza · 7 months

Text

𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑀𝑦 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑...

Inspiration: this, this, this, this,

A/N: As per request, and a high demand, this is like a part of the Creator!Reader AU drabble I wrote some time ago! Though there is a mention about a gender in the end, since the Creator/God of Teyvat could change genders/ forms if wanted, I didn't see a problem with that one!

A/N: PLEASE SEND ME SOME NEUVI NEUVI FLUFF REQUESTS ( especially papa ones with melusines) I'M BEGGING! THIS ONE TOOK A HUGE TOLL ON ME LOL AND BECAUSE MY MIND ONLY WORKS FOR ANGST AND LORE THESE DAYS, I NEED A DISTRACTION-

Warnings: THIS SHIT IS LONG, LIKE VERY! Hints, not so much now, of Neuvi Neuvi being the Hydro Dragon and the Sovereign, hints of past abuse and violence but not detailed, reader being a simp in general

Part1

Ever since coming to the nation of justice, and obviusly water, you had never felt such immense comfort and safety at the mostly silent city, with water sounds mixing. After running away from almost all the nations with the exception of Sumeru, Snezhnaya, Natlan and of course Fontaine whose eyes weren't blinded by anything and rather listened to you, sheltered you and gave you friends after being on the wild all on your own...

The calm and safety you felt was weird.

After all, it wasn't you who asked to be the Creator of this game you loved dearly. You were just a simple, non-important human in your world. Going to school and work, study, try to stay alive, make food for yourself, sleep and repeat the cycle...

And suddenly, you were the "Beloved" Creator of all these characters? But they still hunted you down and there were a few who supported you?? And now you were playing with the tiny and adorable melusines by the pond while being married with the one you loved?

You would have said bullshit on Earth but now, as you giggled at the many melusines fighting for your attention while one of the much younger ones laid between your arms with short and warm breaths fanning your neck softly...

Maybe all the trouble you went through was worth it.

"I want to braid Their Grace's hair!"

"You already did it yesterday, and the day before that too!"

You watched as Puca and Serene bickered together, both of them pushing the other away behind you and tugging on your hair rather harshly without realizing from time to time. You already knew that wincing would make things worse, since they were all so fond of you that they hated the idea of inflicting you with any kind of pain and would wail which would later leave you with hundreds of melusines to comfort with an awkward smile.

It had gotten bad especially after the eldest of them told how "bad things" happened to you... but now You had them and their "papa" and were happier than ever!

"Their Grace will have a date with Monsieur Neuvillette~ So, let's stop bickering and make Them even more pretty!" A fierce blush took over your whole face, warming your cheeks cutely as the younger melusines cooed and giggled, holding onto their hands together and jumping up and down excitedly at the fact that their "papa" and "Mama/dad" were going out like the spouses they saw on the streets of Fontaine. You didn't... exactly have a gender, and considering you appeared in different forms for safety to other nations, especially Inazuma and Liyue who had been... rather passionate about killing you, you would often come back to the loving embrace of your husband and daughters tired, completely forgetting about your form which was different than the one they always saw you.

It still made you stiffle laughs whenever you remembered the way the melusines gasped and looked at you and their papa snuggled under a blanket so lovingly like he always did with their mama/dad...

Poor things cried their eyes out because they thought Neuvilette was being unfaithful to you and didn't stop until they truly saw you and ran at you, never leaving your side at all and gave their papa nasty eyes... which made him also cry because he never thought of such thing happening, not when even his eyes wouldn't stray from your glowing body as you slotted your fingers with his, swinging your joined hands proudly while walking around the city with him next to you as he blushed and softly looked at you.

Not when his unbeating heart, after you disappeared, started to beat once again at your fragile form in the courtroom and he put his coat over your shivering form, eyes glossy with gratefulnes as you accepted it with shaky hands and a silent and meek thank you that pierced and squeezed his chest.

Not when he finally found his mate, his true love, though it was the Creator he always held affection for and waited for millenias for you to return back once more to grace him with your light.

No one could deny the obvious feelings between you and the Chief Justice who wouldn't be too far away from you ever since you entered the city and looked at him with fearful eyes, even when you two weren't courting yet alone being married. No one blamed you for your obvious fear, they caught wind of what happened and had a brief idea after all. So, instead, they acted kind to you and offered to tell you about themselves and the city after you begged them (which felt wrong because weren't they supposed to be on their knees for you?) to call you by your name and act normal. Through time, they saw how happier and more expressive you had become at the way they acted with you, often seeing you play with the children or help out Lady Furina with meetings, or just sit with them for a lunch as they talked about the latest gossips or trends...

Such as how the other nations were suffering because of the lack of your presence, and how theirs were flourishing even more as the days passed.

Even the people knew how jealous the other nations and their people were that Fontaine was the city you favoured, that their archon was your friend and the next important person, their Chief Justice, was your spouse. And people of Fontaine was extremely smug and happy about it, happier than they had ever been, at the fact that the Creator wanted to share Their eternity with their Chief Justice, that he was the one who held your affection and love. Neuvilette seemed like he never cared about what people said about him, at least about the Chief Justice part of him. He judged according to the laws, which he soon realized was flawed, and did his reports religiously. To the outside, he was a stern and cold man who could never be tender for another, love them as if he was holding a fragile glass, and wanting to protect his love, their love and smile and everything that made him love that one special person.

Yet, the truth couldn't be further from the truth.

Yes, that unloving and cold part of him was a side he often used to not show how affected he would become after every harsh comment... But only those closest to him, melusines and now you, knew it to be completely fake and that Neuvilette always wanted to do his damn best and even more for his people.

You didn't understand why everyone seemed to make you stay away from him when you first started to wander in the city with him not so behind you. He insisted that he would accompany you (after you begged him to go out for fresh air or else you were about to explode out of boredom and he caved in at your puppy eyes) and introduce the city, knowing very well that the people could be rather instantaneous , rash at the first sight of you and you didn't like sudden moves after the events obviously, so he told you that he would be close enough to intervene if something were to happen and enjoy yourself as much as you can.

But there was one thing he didn't consider that day, one thing you didn't have an idea happening which made you whiplash so suddenly that the melusine you held hands with shrunk and thightened her hand over yours, scared: The obvious distaste of the sweet Melusines, even now, and the man that had been nothing but sweet to you, taking care of you at rough nights and whispered sweet things to you.

Going as far as letting you sleep on the couch in his office after much bickering, him insisting that a divine being such as yourself only deserved silk and the softest of beds Teyvat could offer and you whining out that it was him that you needed as you cuddled up to his long coat with a sweet and sleepy smile.

But you didn't like how people were so against him, so hellbent on making you realize that he wasn't a good choice, that he was made out of cold stone and nothing else.

That he didn't know how to even love.

But...

They didn't know how it was you that he had let himself go, to enjoy the simple side of life.

They didn't know how you would catch him staring at and feeding the otters, which you often affectionately called "mini Neuvi", with the softest and most adorable face he ever had and then flush when you caught him in the middle of his petting session and joined him, crouching down next to him.

They didn't know how his heart pounded at being close to you, witnessing your love and kindness to everything and everyone around you from being close to you and how you often held onto his arm thight as you both strolled around with flushed cheeks, under the teasing eyes of the elders of Fontaine who commented how cute you both looked together and how your eyes shone brighter.

He really wanted to know if it was because of the comments or your happiness for being treated like normal bir he didn't know he would learn it soon...

Or, they didn't know how he wished to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you against himself protectively, as if everyone outside was a life-threatening danger to you.

They didn't know the way he silently loomed close to you but still remained in the shadows, just enough to watch you have fun, and smile wide with his own little one tugging on his lips.

They didn't know that he enjoyed it the most whenever you brought whatever you baked, with one of the melusines behind you walking happily, and brought it to him as a thanks for all he did for you. No one has ever done this much for me, you would say and he had to refrain from taking your chin between his gloved hand and softly wipe that frown away. For you, anything he wanted to say many times but always refrained from doing so but as he gazed at your eyes at the time...

He knew you already knew about what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do as your eyes locked in his amethyst eyes and pink lips, chest to chest and standing so close to each other that your breaths mingled together as you both just... Stared at each other.

And they didn't know how he wanted to kiss you, how much you wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to yourself while messing with his perfectly-done hair... To bask in the happiness only he was able to give you, surrounded by perhaps otters and your sweet "daughters" and just... knowing each other.

They didn't know him like you did.

And they didn't know the sweet melusines like you did either.

And... Well, perhaps, they also didn't know how protective you were of them and the wrath of you was a power to beckon with when challenged.

"Born from Calamity, you say. He brings only devestation and pain to those close to him, you say..." your voice, calm yet still had a hidden threatening tone, was carried by the Wind on your command and towards right into their ears. The group that was talking shit behind your family all stiffened up, knowing that they had the attention of their Creator in the worst way possible.

Little Puca's hand shook between yours, which made your anger skyrocket even more, her eyes scaredly looking around as she shuffled closer to your long clothes and held on for dear life. She knew about the dislike from humans through her older sisters but... she didn't think it was this bad even now after many years.

What had they done wrong, except working hard and waiting for the people's approval?

"Y-Your Grace, w-we didn't mean to-"

"You are telling me that you didn't mean to say my daughters couldn't be trusted because you don't know where they are from, and since my husband loves them so much, in extension, he also couldn't be trusted?" You pushed whatever words this... woman had to say right back into her throat as she shivered from terror at your cold, glimmering eyes that held the universe in them pierced through her harshly and she had nothing else to do except bow in shame and hope to be forgiven...

Wrong move though.

"Do you think of me... perhaps, stupid?" You sneered angrily, stopping in the middle of your sentence in fake thinking with a curious finger tapping your chin as absolute and undeniable horror filled the people.

"N-Never, Your Grace-!"

"Then how dare you lie to my face and talk shit about my family? Who do you think you are?" Your voice rang menacingly all over Fontaine, all the water and even Wind stopping, as those who had been nothing but rude to the melusines cowered in fear and those who always stood on their side smiled proudly. You already heard enough, knew that you had been silent for so long which ended up with your family being hurt far longer than they should have and now, the time was over.

With slow and silent steps, you stood before the woman who lifted her head hopefully to look at your face but soon horror found her at the blank face you gave her with your contrasting soft hands holding her face.

"I have been patient, for you all to realize your mistake and fix it but if this goes on any longer... If I need to inflict fear so that your filthy words wouldn't taint my family... Then so be it."

With your final words, you picked Puca up and craddled her between your arms lovingly, whispering sweet soothing words as you told her how papa must have been worried and that you two had to go and meet with the rest as soon as possible.

As the little melusine rambled about whatever picked her interest that day, the fright from before long forgotten as you listened attentively but soon frowned when you felt the cooling sensation of... water, over your face.

And lo behold, soon after your brief talk, it started to rain softly.

You really hoped that your husband didn't hear the commotion, knowing how much it would hurt his gentle heart to hear the people he swore to protect still treat him and his daughters badly. You knew how... Carole's sacrifice affected him, how he started to not trust people and turn his emotions off because of how painful it was for him.

He was the one who told you this, after another nightmare where he couldn't do anything to protect his family, and sobbed on your chest with his beautiful hair all messy, eyes swollen and red as he begged you to forgive him, still affected by the gruesome sight of your body and his hands covered in large gushes and golden blood. And even then, he was the most beautiful sight you ever laid your eyes on.

But, to your horror, he did hear it.

But cried for an entire different reason.

And not long after, it started to rain... which made you think back to all the times it poured, You stared at the sky with a lovesick smile over your face as you stared at Neuvillette's slightly-shaking back, who thought he hid himself well behind the stone sculpture of yours, already planning to go to his office later to comfort your big baby.

Still thinking back to all the times when your sensitive, lovely and gentle husband who appeared to be cold but was actually the cutest man/dragon alive, cried and made it rain... Feared that he ruined everything once again but you begged to differ.

To you, it was the most beautiful show of his own feelings.

1.He saw a cute otter

"Hello, mini Neuvi! How are you?"

This time of the day was perhaps, the most funny and relaxing one for you. Because, after so much work and paper and also Furina's drama, you really needed to blow off some steam and just enjoy your life. Fontaine was a beautiful nation, but sometimes... You just wished to see other ones from more of a close eye, especially Sumeru.

It has been such a long time that you were starting to forget the beautiful greenery there, and how much you enjoyed hanging out with the others who became your friends quickly.

You definetly didn't miss Cyno's dad-jokes and how the others stared in shock when you snorted at one of them-

But, you were happy with where your life was right now. You were safe, happy, had the cutest animals around you, and then there were the sweet and ever-helpfull melusines who were always at your back and call with pretty much anything and...

There was Neuvillette.

You giddily laughed and put your hair behind your ear shyly, even the mention of the usually composed and calm yet so easily flustered man made your heart burst and dance. You wanted to believe that there was something sparking between you two after the many times you hung out with him, and the many times everyone told you that no, Chief Justice never just "hung out" with people and that this was a first.

Probably what sealed the deal for you, and pretty much everyone, was the way he... very obviously had softened gradually.

It was the subtle way he made sure you were okay, always buying a nicely done bouqet on his way for you and slowly, starting to smile more. People, before you came along, often was scared to talk to him because of his "brooding personality". They thought he was someone hard to talk with, which at first was true. The usually expressionless face he always wore made people stay away, and loose the best kind of companionship they could have had by not trying harder to understand him.

Because, deep down, you saw the longing eyes he gave to the couples in Fontaine or the best friends hanging out together happily. He really wanted to have that too, he just didn't know how and therefore, he was seen as heartless and uncaring for any attachments when it was the most wrong thing he ever could be.

Not that you had any complaints, even if that treatment sometimes saddened you, you were happy that it was you he chose to show that side of him even if it was as a result of... a traumatic experience.

"I brought you, and your whole family the most yummy snacks ever! Made by none other than me!" You shook your head at the thoughts to focus on the cute otters who were swimming where you were simply floating, making excited sounds at seeing both their creator and "mama/dada".

A/N: I just want a horde of melusines and otters in my home, is that too much to ask? 🥲🥹

Giggling at their enthusiasm, you happily followed them around for almost all the afternoon and you couldn't lie, it was the best swimming you ever had, with a worry-free mind and heart.

That was, of course, until you felt a panicked presence close before warm hands (contrasting to the cool water around you) circled your middle and a relieved breath on your ear made goosebumps appear on your skin.

"I was worried, Your Grace... No one has seen you today." Your body relaxed visibly at his rich and soothing voice and slacked back ahainst his chest, his arms thightening around your waist without noticing and inhaling your shampoo deeply with a content smile.

"Oh... Yes, I needed some alone time to myself. I'm sorry if I worried you so much." You sheepishly looked at him while still in his soft embrace and he looked down slightly at your face, crinkled with happiness and then, smiled.

Which, obviously, made your heart stop for a second as you internally gushed at how handsome he was.

"It's okay... I know you can protect yourself. Though I wonder what had taken your attention this much?"

An excited gasp left you when you remembered your children and looked around to see them behind a rock, peeking from the corner to look at you fearfully, unsure if it was safe for them to come out again.

"I came to meet my children! Come on, darlings! He is a friend, you are safe with him!"

Neuvillette widened his eyes at your form who was immediately swarmed with the otters, all clinging onto you as soon as the words left your mouth and he couldn't will his heart to stop pounding his chest at the blissful and motherly smile over your face.

It had been some time that he finally admit his feelings for you, after having a long lecture from Furina and Navia herselves about love, feelings and how a romantic relationship works. They literally forced him to look deeper into his heart and just feel what he feels when he is around you, what he wants to do and wished to happen etc. They already had enough of their favourite ship not sailing yet, Furina just wanted some action and Navia... well, she knew he was a good man now and didn't deserve to be lonely all the time so she was eager to help.

Safe to say, even they were shocked and teary-eyed at how sensitive, sensual and romantic he was when it came to you.

And those feelings only intensified with each passing day, after he was more aware of his body's, the dragon in him's reactions to you and what you did.

And right now, they were purring contently and proudly at watching you interact with your children.

Even the thought of such thing excited him and he had to cough to mask his embrassment when you two... weren't an "item" as Lynette and Lyney used to say while giggling just like any other teenager in Fontaine.

He didn't know what "being an item" meant, this was teenagers after all and their language was weird.

"Come here, mini Neuvi! I know you want this yummy fish snack- Neuvillette, are you okay?"

Well, he definetly didn't expect to hear you call an otter... with his name. He was a mighty dragon, a Sovereign for Celestia's sake, not a small and weak creature!

But as he looked at you swinging the cute otter side to side, pointing at every feature that was very much like him according to you from the blue streaks they had, how they loved swimming, head pats and rolling in the water and how they adored being fed (something he regretted ever telling you about and letting you do it just because he wanted you to do so, that the dragon side of him submitted to you, going as far as letting you pat him and feed him, showing weakness), there was nothing he could do except sigh defeatedly and watch you play with the now horde of them as they all made happy sounds at you.

But really? Did you really have to call the otter between your arms which was cuddling up to you "Mini Neuvi"?

Did you really have to make him blush as he imagined what your supposedly-not-here-yet children might look like as they also cuddled up to your warm embrace, chanting your name?

"Oh My- Neuvillette, there is smoke coming out of you! What the-" your eyes widened at him as you worriedly swam to where he was slightly bent over, hair and hand trying and failing to hide his deep blush and giddy smile as you fussed over him.

Yeah, he had to have better control of his emotions and... bodily reactions from now on.

2. I kissed him under the rain

"As if it wasn't bad already, It's raining again!"

"Ugh, again? There goes my travel plans..."

"I wonder what's wrong with the Hydro Dragon enough to make him cry all the time..."

"This rain is ruining everything-!"

All his life, he listened to and watched people of Fontaine complain about the rain. How it destroyed their shops, how their plans were ruined and how they would surely get sick after this rain... Most of them knew about the Hydro Dragon legend, and as selfish as it might have sounded, he wished people would be at least a little bit worried over him.

Expecting this much wasn't wrong after all, right? He never thought or demanded the people to enjoy rain, he knew it could be a huge hassle to deal with a heavy storm and the mud that came with it.

But never in his eons of life, did he see someone as pecular as you, dancing and laughing under the rain but still held a somewhat thoughtful frown.

"Why are you not running away?"

He blushed at how the question left his mouth so suddenly, turning his head to not look at you as you halted and turned to him with a confused stare but soon grinned like an excited kid.

"Why would I? It's so refreshing and the rain feels nice on my skin!" You couldn't help yourself and jump on a little puddle on the ground and splash water everywhere, gleefully running around as Neuvillette's eyes were trained on you intensely.

He... didn't understand humans most of the times but you? You were another kind of enigma for him as you ran happily and pushed the wet locks of your hair away from your face which usualy irritated most of the women. You were definetly going to get sick, have a runny nose and probably feel fatigued all day... but as you slapped your wet cheeks to make sure all of this was real, and that you were finally here all happy, the sickness that would come after this seemed worthy.

But, Neuvillette had been more silent than you were used to...

Not hearing or seeing any reaction from him, you slowly came to an end in your little game and tilted your head at his expressionless face. "Do you... hate the rain?"

A sudden realization came over at his bashful and solemn face, the downward turn of hisblips and the slight bite he gave to himself. "Oh..."

"Yes..." he muttered under his breath and looked down, eyes brimming with tears and stinging his eyes but hidden by his own wet hair. His face was already flushed from the cold, and perhaps by the sight of your clothes clinging on your body and showing off some of your skin and curves.

Or maybe, the bright yet understanding smile on your face as you tilted your head at him was what made him stop and lift his eyes and stare at you dumbfounded.

And make his own tears pour even harder.

"How can anyone hate the rain?" You asked softly and he knew... He knew you didn't mean just the rain, but himself. He wondered if you were aware of the implication of your words, whether you knew the truth about him or not but frankly enough...

He didn't care.

If it was you who knew, but still didn't say anything, he was fine with his secret out for one more person.

Unaware of his newfound ambition to just "seal the deal" today and finally take the scary yet exciting step into the future, you continued to talk with your hands out in a cupping position, letting the cold rain water collect in the middle of your hands.

"It's a blessing of this world to the people who lives on soil. It is to refresh both us and the soil, the air and the waters so that humans can live. But..." Slowly lowering them down and watching the water run down over your arms, you fiddled with your hands anxiously, contemplating whether it was okay to say what was in your mind since it was a rather sensitive topic for him, with no one else knowing his true identity or name.

You didn't exactly know when you realized it, or whether you knew from the beginning or not but now that you did... Neuvillette wouldn't spend even one more minute alone anymore, you would make sure that he would be happy and loved and would never feel as if he didn't belong anywhere.

But it seemed Neuvillette was very adamant on hearing the rest of your sentence since he took a step towards you and stared down at you with his chest rising up and down rapidly in anticipation, his breath warming your cheeks by both the hotness of it and also the closeness between you two.

"But what?"

You sighed deeply and looked up at the eyes that decorated most of your dreams and daydreams. Confessing feelings have always been hard, it never got easy even if you were in a different world but if you didn't do this... Neuvillette would never do it in fear of making you uncomfortable with himself.

"It saddens me to know that the Hydro Dragon suffers so much, enough to make it flood."

Well, he definetly wasn't expecting this answer.

Out of anything that might have left your lips, what you chose to say amazed him. There was someone worried about him? Well, you weren't necessarily worried about him. After all, you didn't know (and there was no way for it to happen) that he was the Hydro Dragon and also, the one who was sad almost %99 of the time.

He often felt guilty about not being honest to you, when you spoke about most of the things that happened to you or what you used to do in your world before coming here. But the mind was a complicated system, and often showed its ugly side at times like this one.

It screamed at him often that if you were to know the truth, see his true form ... He would see the horror and disgust on your face that usually looked at him so lovingly and softly...

And it would forever break him.

"I think, compared to all the dragons I had ever faced with... He has the most gentle heart ever! But the kindest hearts often suffer the most, I just hope he has someone to care for him." You smiled kindly and knowingly at him with a raise of your brows as you stared at his own wide ones, hoping the usually clueless man would get the meaning behind your words.

And surprisingly enough, he did... He just wasn't sure if he should say something more or not, whether he got the meaning behind right or not.

Surely, you didn't...

"He does... I think he does have someone." He gave a small smile to the slightly parting sky as he looked up and sighed in content. He was glad he had you in his life, after such a long time in solidarity and absolutely no one to understand him. Even when he was just a little hatchling, with seemingly no one to care for him, his tiny heart at that time craved for it as he travelled through this world, all alone...

But never ever imagined to hear those words that left your lips next, as if they were the confirmation he always needed.

"So... Why are you still crying then?" He widened his eyes as he lifted those reddened ones to your face, droplets of salty water still running down his cheeks as amethyst-colored eyes looked at you in wonder, mouth left open in shock in a little "O" shape.

The childish wonder in his eyes made you soften at him as you shuffled closer to him, and even if he was a lot taller than you, he seemed like a fragile and ready-to-cry-at-any-moment little boy as he grasped your hands thightly that was holding his face delicately, scared that this was all his imagination which would perish as soon as he woke up and he would be left staring at his ceiling with empty eyes.

Your heart burst with love at seeing his face, body shivering from anxiety and cold together as he trembled under your touch but still seeked your comfort and warmth. He nudged your palm with a small smile, content and relaxed for the first time since he no longer needed to hide from you. He sighed onto your hands, your finger tips lightly touching his strand of white hair, swiping them away from his forehead as he leant down to your height and leaned his forehead on yours. Closing his eyes tiredly, he leant his body weight on yours but it didn't bother you and neither was it hard for you to hold him up by hugging his waist...

And he purred, placing a wide and teary smile over your face.

He finally trusts me...

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry... Even if you look pretty while doing so." You teased him softly ( there was true honesty to your words anyways), with adoration evident on your tone as you almost sung those phrases he sometimes heard children say. Your hands rubbed his back softly, drawing circles as the rain started to lower down and tiny specks of light shone on you both.

You sighed out and buried your face to his neck, cheeks smushing on his shoulder as your arms thightened around him as if to shield him from any more harm.

And, the most joyous thing was... He let you. He squeezed your back with equal force and buried his face to your neck, with his lips tingling painfully just to lay a soft and loving kiss there.

Just as many times you affectionately kissed his forehead with praises spilling from your mouth.

"Just as you promised a lot of times... I'll do everything in my power to make you happy, Neuvillette. That is, if you ha-" your hand was idly patting and going through his locks softly, hand scraping along his scalp as your murmurs hit and was absorbed by his greedy skin as he soaked it all up even in the middle of his shock.

How can you even ask such a question when he was ready to give his life for you?

"Yes..." he was already overwhelmed enough with love, and with each word passing your lips... The reality of the situation you two were in had settled.

Finally... Finally, he had you.

His arms thightened around you, voice shaking as if he was the most afraid he ever had been."Please... Don't leave. I don't know if I can live again without you... now that I had a taste of your love and warmth."

You were shocked to hear such a declaration, so passionate yet calm, just like Neuvillette himself. You slightly parted from him to look at his face, knowing his eyes would never betray his words but he was making it difficult by clinging onto you more.

"Is it-" you started anxiously, fearing that it was because of the connection between the Sovereign and the Creator when a scoff left him, nose scrunched up as if you just said the most weird and offensive thing ever known to a man.

"No, It's because you are Y/N... You are the one I love."

And what else of a reason you would need, when he craddled your face so gently and stroked your chin before slowly diving down and kissing you sweetly under the soft rain as the time stopped for you two, and the nature all around Teyvat blossomed and shone with power?

3. I fainted because he was too cute and handsome, especially when he smiled

"You are so handsome when you smile..."

Now, Neuvillette was used to the way you abruptly threw praises and sweet words at hım throughout the day. Sometimes they were agressive as you squeezed his cheeks together and made hım stare in your eyes while you doted on him.

But this one... This one was new, and he wasn't ready to hear it yet.

At least, fast enough to cover his reactions to save himself from more teasing from you.

"Thank you, my love... Though it couldn't compete with your-" he coughed out as his tail swinged happily behind him, internally cursing himself for deciding to use his hybrid form since you begged him that it would only be the two of you in his office and that you wouldn't let anyone enter without asking first.

And he was a fool in love anyways, who always became weak in the knees whenever you asked for something.

Besides, he couldn't lie: Upholding his human form for so long made him itchy and he was really enjoying as you patted and scratched his tail and scales as his very long tail was wrapped around your waist possessively.

"It's so bright and mesmerizing that it brightened my next eternal life for good...." You were brushing his hair and styling it into a high ponytail just because you thought it would suit him, so focused on your task that you didn't realize how his whole body bibrated because of his content and loud purr...

Which soon made you lean over his left shoulder and stare at his face with a loving and teasing smile.

And there it was, the fierce blush that often coated his handsome face whenever you blurted out your intrusive thoughts...

He blinked several times while looking at you with wide eyes, his heart making flips then stopping and doing it once again which made you snort and lean back on the plush chair you pulled behind his own table...

And soon, very soon, his whole face (and you were sure even his chest) was covered in the reddest red ever known as he stumbled over his own words while slightly trembling.

It was cute... But was it normal for him to tremble?

"Neuvillette? Are you... Did I say something out of-" you slightly raised from the chair while holding the handles and put the brush away, ready to assist him when he suddenly shouted out with an embrassed laugh.

"N-No, not at all! I'm fine, better than I've ever been actually!"

He would never dare to make the same mistake he once did when he reacted to your sweet and definetly distracting words. It was bad enough now that it was becoming harder to control himself...

Maybe, you would be down to the idea of a nightly swimming date?

4. I told him what happened to me and he made the city overflow

"Aaand, that's pretty much it... I already forgave them all but... I think I would never forget it."

Talking about what had happened in all the lives you lived, considering all the religious and cult-like trauma, was something hard to do. Especially since it was still a fresh wound that kept opening again and again at the sight of the Archons in your daily life. They still showed themselves to you from time to time, begging for your forgiveness even though Neuvillette himself almost headbutted with the ex-Geo Archon himself, another fellow dragon who was not as strong as him.

Even though you told them that you put all of that in your past, that you forgave them... They just didn't seem satisfied. They wanted to be closer to you, hang out with you and bask in your warmth as well.

Much like a certain someone, who was deadly serious about not leaving you alone with them for more than a few minutes.

But, could anyone really blame him? You were his treasure, his everything, the one he patiently waited for years without straying from his logic.

His soulmate that he never though he had, or could have. You were kind and loving and generous, and him... awkward about most of the things that concerned human nature, clueless, broken and rough around the edges. He, even now, never actually believed he could make you happy like you deserved while having all these flaws, especially whenever those Archons spoke of all the flaws he had and how he wasn't enough... But as you stared up at him any time he got into one of these moods, held his face and kissed his frown and worries away with little whispers of your love, he knew why he was still alive and had to fight for another day.

He spent lonely years by himself with his heart in agony, listening to it crying for the real home for him... And now that he had it, he learnt all the terrible things they did to You, how they all refused to lend a helping hand to someone in need of it without adding the fact that it was the Creator, and everyone expected him to be fine with it?

Hell no.

He just... couldn't wrap his mind around it. How could they, he thought bitterly as you leaned your head to his shoulder innocently, watching the moon shine outside and reflect the light on both of you. Your hand timidly reached out to his, smaller fingers wrapping around his much bigger ones as if you knew very well the emotional turmoil he was in to comfort him though it was him who was supposed to do that for you.

And it made him even more guilty as he leant his head on your own, as selfish as it seemed to him for seeking such thing from you at your vulnerable state.

How could they almost destroy such a cheerful, happy and kind person? Our Creator?... My love?

You were always the sunshine of wherever you entered, an eye-catching presence in the usually gloomy and calm City of Fontaine. Even when you first came, before seeking refugee and begging Furina to listen to you... You were still kind enough to stop and help a child find her mother, help a lost melusine out ( you later learnt it was Puca, who would grow on you later when she re-approached you with a necklace of sea-shells and offered them to you timidly), and even bring joy to the water in their city so much so that there wasn't a stormy or gloomy day ever. And that was enough for everyone, alongside the golden scars across your arms, that you were their true Creator.

Besides, Neuvillette didn't have to listen to what Furina had to say, the primal dragon in him was already roaring, growling and trashing inside at the other stupid Archons who dared to touch you, to hurt you. How could they, it yelled in his mind often as the loyal dragon it is to the Creator, connected with a deep sense of loyalty and... love. That dragon side of him purred loudly and softly whenever you seeked him amongst a crowd, or simply sitting with him.

The fact that it was him who you felt safe with made both him and the dragon proud and happy, so much so that if he could use his half-hybrid form, which he was already doing it a lot thanks to you, his tail would be flicking back and forth much like a puppy.

He might not be the best with emotions, with them being especially more complicated with humans and all. He might have not understood what pain, heartbreak and even anger meant but there was one thing clear:

Something in his chest broke so wildly, so loudly and stung his heart so harshly at the sight of your tears that the air in his lungs were punched, and made him silently choke on his own tears.

"Never will you ever feel scared, unsafe and unloved, Your Grace... I will make sure of it." He gently craddled your face between his much larger and slightly calloused, naked hands after finally, finally finding his voice back even if it left his lips in a raspy and wavering way with arms squuezing your body thightly. But you didn't mind it, all you could ever need was here anyways...

Except...

"Not that..." he hummed in confusion with a tilt of his head, the blue streaks of his hair tickling your face softly as you giggled and buried yourself deeper to his chest.

"I don't like it when you call me that..."

"Then what would you like me to call you, my love?" You grinned with joy as you bonked your head with his, another affectionate yet cute gesture he learnt you did whenever you were full of excitement and love. Trying to be silent, so that your army of daughters didn't wake up from next doors, you pushed him on the bed you two shared, hand on his sturdy chest as you stared down at his flushed cheeks and flustered eyes at your sudden dominance.

What a sight it was to have the ever stoic Chief Justice, the Hydro Sovereign under your mercy like this, all pretty and yours...

"I like that one better actually. Can you say it again?" You tilted your head cutely with a smile, your sadness from before long forgotten as his eyes softened at you from below you,happy that he was at least able to do that for you. His hand slowly trailed up your waist, to your back and softly craddled your face with his naked hands, hands rubbing your cheeks oh so lovingly as he uttered those sweet names to you slowly, with no rush at all with closed eyes and a loving smile.

"My love..."

"Again..." you breath got caught in your throat as the sudden rush of love and safety overwhelmed you, the man you loved from the beginning uttering and declaring his love to your skin was both too much and not enough.

Not when you unforfunately were deprived of such thing in both worlds.

More, more, I need to hear it more...

"my precious, most beautiful and one and only love..." he slowly pushed himself up on his elbow with the help of his hand on the bed, thightly holding your neck with a promise on his tongue. He was an ancient being with even more ancient thoughts on courting and loving someone. If a dragon loved someone, and devoted themselves to that person once... That was it. No more turning back, no more being lonely, no more suffering. The dragon would make sure their mate was well-fed, safe and happy with them and that no harm would ever come to them ever again, even if the dragon died.

And that dragon side of him was insperable from him after all and therefore, he was eternally yours to have, to be your sworn protector.

Those who treats his family badly would suffer the worst consequence ever...

But for now, he would only kiss your tears away, run his hands across every single scar that told another story and was left unhealed for so long.

I'll fight with everything, move the whole Teyvat upside down and rip through everyone with sharp and protective claws who dared to hurt you and take you away from him.

Not when I had been waiting for you for millenias and just now had you.

"My treasure... You are not alone. You will have me for as long as you want."

He wanted to say everything his heart desired to do but right now, at this vulnerable moment for you as you both laid naked... This was enough.

His arms around you thight was enough.

His deep voice declaring his absolute adoration and devotion to you, bringing you close to tears was enough.

The soft raining outside, making a knowing smile appear on your adorable face smushed to his chest was enough.

Your loving kiss right where his heart was enough.

He and his love was enough.

That is until he learnt in the morning that he accidently made the city overflow deep at night while crying silently to himself for you, thinking you were asleep, but bury himself deep in the sheets while you laughed at hım first thing in the morning and he almost cried tears of frustration at you again.

5. I love him

He gave his true name.

Slowly, very timidly, he brought his hand closer to yours on his face and took a hold of the softness of it with his own glowed hands. This was one of the things he loved to do the most, caressing your hands and rubbing the tips of your finger before kissing every inch of it, showing them the love no one did and could never do.

Not when your heart, skin, body and soul only knew him.

To him, your hands were divine in more than one way. They created life and helped people around, they were what patted the head of the young ones, what helped a little babe who fell on their bum and looked at you with glossy eyes, they were what showed your kindness and love to everyone and everything even after all they did, ever the unworthy ones of such love...

They were what you used to comfort him with your warmth, at long and painful nights as the sky roared with thunders and rain and he was guilt-striken at the thought of people judging him and uttering harsh words to the "Hydro Dragon".

Those were the especially hardest nights for him, marred with the images of you and his "daughters" injured and dying... His mind screaming, torturing with those images and the painful screams, mocking him for not being enough, powerful enough to save those closest to hım as everything drowned him.

Not enough...

You couldn't even save the one you love...

Failure...

Their deaths are on you-

It's okay not to be okay, my love...

But your soft voice, laced with utter devotion and love for him, was always what made it all better as he laid across your chest and hugged you thightly while your hands played with his silky locks. Sometimes, he wondered if you were reading his mind since you always knew when he was down. It was absolutely amazing yet, you were amazing too.

With ot without being the Creator.

Much like the first time he knew his every being now belongt to you, that his heart had fallen for you beyond your title, because you trully loved him for who he was, it fell again and again even more with each passing day.

His heart fell even deeper in love whenever you shyly entered his office to have a hug before dealing with the problems of Teyvat and other realms, saying that his hugs were really relaxing to which he silently teared up, brought him food and ate with hım since he forgot to eat regularly which pissed you off and he would make it up to you by kissing you, whenever you excitedly pointed to a place to have a sudden date with him while strolling in the Fontaine...

And therefore, the last thing he would give to you... would be the sign and show of his utter loyalty and trust.

Himself and his true name, as he proposed to be yours for eternity.

"Will you accept someone like me to be your eternity, Your Grace?"

With happy tears in your eyes as you nodded and jumped on him, which made him fall back on his ass and laugh freely he kissed every part of your body and uttered öne last thank you.

"Thank you for loving me no matter what..."

A soft laugh as you looked up towards the sky which had a soft rain under bright sun, a great show of the feelings Neuvillette was feeling, you kissed him deep once more, much like the first time you kissed.

"Thank you for being you, for letting me love you, my husband... I love you." You nuzzled closer to him with a wide grin as you both laughed while he twirled you happily as the melusines cheered and cried in joy, the waters around you two bursting up towards the sky and creating a feast for eyes with bright colors.

The people cheered in the distance, made new offerings to you and your new husband in happiness and gratitude for being able to witness this day...

But all you needed, all your eyes would see and all your heart would feel was right between your arms... In the form of the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, with pretty amethyst eyes that reflected you and gave you hope when you almost lost it and soft hairs of blue and pearly white that was entangled between your fingers as your lips found his passionately.

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