#her guard friend looked like a seal

[bishopony]

trusting audience reviews for media is a cardinal sin

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there��s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

[livinginshambles]

How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.

Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes

Masterlist

_________________

In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.

She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.

She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”

“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”

“I haven’t even said anythi-“

“And I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, but here me out, I-“

“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.

“Come on, just listen-“

You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.

“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.

“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.

James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.

“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.

“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and

James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”

You raised you eyebrows.

“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.

“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”

James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.

“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.

“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”

James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.

“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“

“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.

“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.

“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.

“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.

“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.

“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”

“I am,” you deadpanned.

James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.

“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.

You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.

“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”

“We did?”

Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.

He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.

Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.

You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.

“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”

James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.

“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.

James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”

“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.

“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.

“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.

“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.

“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”

James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.

“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.

“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.

“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.

“Yeah?”

“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”

James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.

“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”

“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.

“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.

“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”

“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”

“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”

Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”

“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”

You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”

You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.

“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.

He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.

You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.

James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’

James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.

‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.

You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.

“Okay.”

James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”

“Would you like me to add conditions?”

“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”

“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”

James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.

He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.

“Lead the way, Y/N.”

“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.

“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.

He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”

“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”

Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”

You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”

“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.

“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”

“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”

You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.

“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.

“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”

“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.

Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”

James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”

“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?

James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.

“I fancy you.”

James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?

“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.

“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.

“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.

“And you fancy me.” James nodded.

“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.

James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.

“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.

You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”

You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”

“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.

You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.

After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.

Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.

Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.

“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.

“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.

You internally smiled at his words.

“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”

It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.

Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“

But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.

“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.

James looked at you, confused. “How much?”

“How much are we worth?”

James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.

You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.

“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”

James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.

“Darling-“

You felt numb. “How little?”

“A galleon.”

You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”

James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.

James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.

He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?

“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.

“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.

“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.

The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.

You needed your friends right now.

When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.

“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.

James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.

During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.

You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.

You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.

When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.

You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.

James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.

“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.

“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.

“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”

“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”

You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.

“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.

“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.

“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.

“Lead the way, Darling.”

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unsleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs

@targaryenmoony @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @quackitysdrugdealer @gaysludge @acciotwinz @in2meijasworld @shadowbriar @kategables @prongsprincessworld @devilsnightz @lavandersblues @inesven

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Sworn Protector

aegon x sister!wife!reader x the bloody ben we thought we got but we’re delusional 🫠

anniversary gift pt 2 but can be read alone!

Summary: Benjicot Blackwood is Aegon and yours sworn protector. He takes your protection and pleasure very seriously much to Alicent and Viserys dislike.

Warnings: 18+, graphic depiction of murder fr, blood, drinking, swearing, oral(m and f receiving), fingering, public, penetration(p in v), double penetration 🫣😮‍💨, honestly this whole fic is a warning idk what to say!!!!

Authors Note: “look at me, this isn’t you.” moment and honestly good for y/n, fucking the sworn protector is a family tradition apparently 🫣, no bc i’m enjoying writing this problematic throuple too much 🧎🏼‍♀️, i may make one more part idk but it’s set up for that so we shall seeeeee

Word Count: 3.9k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I jolt awake as I hear the relentless crack of bone and squelch of blood. Aegon is like a rock next to me refusing to wake or be bothered. I pull on one of his shirts and walk to the door to listen through. Metal slams into flesh repeatedly as I crack open the door and gasp at the scene before me.

“Ben?! Ben stop!” my balance wavers as I rip open the door and see the state of the man beneath him. “Benjicot Blackwood I said that’s enough!” I shout firmly and his bloodied fist halts, hoovering above the mans pulverized face.

“I’m sorry.” Ben turns to look at me as the man’s blood continues to cascade down his face.

Guards rush into the hall and stop abruptly taking in the scene. They look from me to Ben and then down to the unrecognizable body. Some of them put their hands on their sword pommels and before I can think I step in front of Ben protectively.

“Princess go back to your chambers and we will deal with this.” a guard holds his hands out in front of him slowly walking towards me.

“If you come closer to her you will be in the same state as this man here.” Ben spits as he rises and towers behind me.

“Enough,” I hiss out to him. Gods the one time I wish Aegon were actually awake to help me deal with something. “You all will see to it that this mess is cleaned up. Ser Benjicot was simply doing his duty and protecting Aegon and I. I’ll hear no more on this matter at this hour.” my voice unwavering hoping they’ll listen and heed my words.

“What happened that could lead to this?” a guard asks baffled, his face turning queasy.

“I intend to question him myself, along with Aegon, to get to the bottom of this. We shall speak on the morrow.” I toss over my shoulder pushing Ben into our chambers and sealing us shut behind the doors.

“What the fuck?” I push him harshly into open space of our chambers. “What the fuck was that?” I ask again throwing my hands in the air at a loss for words.

Ben says nothing and takes a seat in a chair as I fill up a glass with wine. I begin to light some candles around our chambers as it’s still hours before sunrise. I take a long sip and exhale deeply. I walk over to the bed and shake Aegon a little more roughly than needed.

“What is it?” Aegon pushes me off of him and rolls over.

“Get up. We have a situation.” I grit out through my teeth. “Ben just slaughtered a man outside of our chambers and I don’t know what to do.” Aegons eyes shoot open.

“What are you talking about?” he sits up and his eyes bulge as they land on Ben’s bloody face. “What the fuck?”

“Hey.” Ben smiles and offers us a small wave.

“What happened?” Aegon rises out of bed completely nude and takes a seat in a chair near Ben.

I refill my glass while pouring them each a cup of wine and bring it to them. I claim the couch and spread out. I cross my legs and take a sip of wine as I look to Ben expectantly for him to begin telling his story.

“Some cunt from the servant staff was walking the halls with his little cunt friends,” Ben’s voice starts to rise. “He started saying all it took to become the new sworn protector was to fuck you. He said he planned to walk into your chambers and take you as you were while Aegon slept beside you.” I can feel the rage radiating off of him in palpable waves.

“So you killed him? Brutally?” Aegon raises his eyebrows shaking his head in disbelief yet a smile begins to form on his lips.

“Yes.” Ben says nodding as if nothing is wrong with that answer

“Well at least we know you do a thorough job.” Aegon shrugs and sips his wine. “Shall we call you our sworn executioner now?” he smirks walking to the bathing chambers.

“Come, let us clean you up.” I hum offering Ben my hand.

Ben looks up to me as he grabs my hand. His gaze never leaves mine as he places a soft kiss on my forehead. I lead us over to Aegon who has a basin of water and a clean cloth. We have Ben sit as we begin to remove his bloody armor.

“Thank you for protecting me in the halls, although, it shouldn’t have come to that.” Ben looks to me as I begin wiping off his face.

“We all protect each other.” Aegon adds as he removes the last piece of Ben’s armor. “Truth be told, this will most likely be blamed on us anyway.” Aegons eyes look to mine.

“As long as Ben can stay I care not.” I say shrugging as I try to wipe dried blood off his brow.

“Agreed.” Aegon hums bringing a clean cloth to Ben’s neck to start wiping the blood from there.

We finish cleaning Ben in silence as he stares at the both of us with devotion. The pile of bloody armor is moved to the bath so it can be washed in the morning. Our hands begin to slowly undress Ben and lead him over to our bed.

“Thank you for protecting my wife.” Aegon hums helping Ben lay back on the bed. “Let me reward you.” his smile is devilish as he slowly begins to remove Ben’s underwear.

Once freed Ben’s cock bounces against his lower stomach as he stares at us with low lids. Aegon nestles himself between Ben’s thighs as I cuddle into Ben’s side. I turn Ben’s head to face mine and capture his lips into a heated kiss. Ben groans deeply into my mouth as Aegon licks him from base to tip.

“Shh, shh,” I whisper as I trail kisses down his jaw.

Aegon takes Ben fully in his mouth, accepting every inch until he reaches the base. Aegon begins to lift his head leaving trails of spit coating his member. Ben lets out a strangled whimper as Aegon brings his hand up to his balls.

“Fuck, my Prince.” Ben rasps as one of his hands tangles in Aegons hair.

Aegon chuckles around Ben as his hips begin to jerk. Aegon uses both of his hands to push Ben’s hips into the bed and shower him with the pleasure of his mouth. I start to kiss and suck on Ben’s neck as our names fall from his lips like a prayer.

“Come for us.” I murmur against his neck before I bite down on his pulse point.

A low groan spills from Ben’s mouth as his hips twitch as he begins to fill Aegons throat. Aegon licks every drop that Ben has to offer him. He continues offering small licks as Ben’s thighs begin to shake.

“My prince,” Ben groans pulling Aegon off of him by his hair.

Aegon chuckles lowly as he crawls up Ben’s body and claims his lips for his own. Aegon releases Ben and turns to me to ensnare me. I sigh into Aegons mouth as I taste Ben. We slowly pull apart and all cuddle into each other on the spacious bed.

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My eyes flutter open as the morning light peeks through our windows. I untangle myself from Ben and Aegon and softly pad over to the doors. I poke my head out to ask a guard to have a servant bring up some fresh water and cloths.

The supplies are brought to me with haste along with a letter for the three of us to hold an audience with the King and Queen once we dress. I bring the supplies into the bathing chambers and begin to clean off Ben’s bloody armor. The bath water has turned a deep burgundy and I sigh when I see that it’s also crusted under my nails.

“You don’t have to clean up after me.” Ben whispers to me as I jump at his voice.

“Am I not ceaselessly cleaning up after the both of you?” I raise my eyebrow as a smile spreads across my face.

Aegon begins to stir from the bed and sits up pouting at being left alone. He gets up and joins us in the bathing chambers and I tell them about the note I received. We all slowly pull our clothes on and Aegon and I help Ben put his armor back on.

Upon opening the door we’re greeted with the stain that has been left from last nights events. We walk past silently and flow down down the steps. As we turn the corner we can see Viserys atop the throne looking less than pleased.

“I’m far too sober for this.” Aegon whispers in my ear.

“Hush,” I elbow him in the side.

“Your Grace.” Ben says bowing deeply.

“Who cares to tell me what happened last night?” Viserys voice is rough as he looks to all three of us.

“A man was heard loudly speaking in the halls of how it was his plan to come into our chambers to rape and harm me. Ser Benjicot was simply protecting me from those events occurring.” I offer hoping my somewhat thought out words will distract them from the brazen violence that followed.

“So you took his life? We have dungeons for a reason boy.” Viserys voice carries throughout the empty hall as he looks to Ben.

“I-“ Ben starts.

“Is it not his job to protect me and Aegon? By whatever means necessary?” I challenge Viserys as my voice rises to meet his.

“Daughter, I’m not mad that he protected you, I’m mad that there’s stain on the stone reminding us of the brutality.” Viserys eyes narrow on me.

“Gods save us! There’s a stain on the stone.” Aegon brings a hand to his forehead rolling his eyes.

“Aegon.” Alicent warns staring daggers at him.

“You three already cause me enough rumors and whispers throughout court. If you’re going to kill someone for my daughter at least make sure there’s no one to witness it.” Viserys relents shaking his head looking to Ben. “All three of you leave the Keep, I do not wish to see you for the rest of the day.” he waves his hand at us in dismissal.

Ben takes us past the guard quarters so he can remove his armor before we leave for the day. We linger on the front steps not really having an idea of where to go. I suggest we claim an empty villa in the gardens and have drinks and food catered to us.

“Excellent idea, my love.” Aegon claps his hands together. “And where are the gardens again?” he clears his throat.

“This way.” I roll my eyes and lead us.

I find us a villa surprisingly quick and servants are upon us in moments. We order many bottle and ask for them to close the billowy curtains around us for extra privacy. We have an intimate table at the entrance and a couple of couches and chairs tucked away in the back.

“Why didn’t I know about this place sooner?” Aegon relaxes back into his chair with his glass.

“Because you wouldn’t appreciate it as the sanctuary that it is.” I hum as I take a sip of the sweet wine.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Ben breathes out looking to us.

“Don’t be.” Aegon scrunches his brows.

“My actions just made your father kick us out of the Keep for the day.” he clenches his fists angry with himself.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” I shrug my shoulders with a smile.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” Aegon raises his glass to me and we look to Ben expectantly.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” Ben sighs raising his glass.

“You don’t have this position just because you fuck me. You are a brave knight who understands us but loves and protects us anyway.” I say grabbing his hand with an appreciative smile.

“Our father is basically a walking corpse. By the time we stumble into the Keep later he’ll probably forget all about it.” Aegon offers with a lopsided smile.

“And we can forget all about it right now.” I drain my cup and go to refill it.

We sit and drink and let Ben vent for a while listening intently to him. More drinks are brought to us along with lunch and we leisurely graze. The air starts to get warmer and we all shed out of our first layer of clothing leaving us absolutely indecent.

“Up on the table. I want to write my apology with my tongue.” Ben turns to me with low lids as his words go straight to my core.

He moves our glasses and bottles then turns to me expectantly. I slowly rise out of the chair on shaky legs, giggling as the wine rushes to my head. Ben stands grabbing my waist and placing me on the table. He claims his seat once more and pulls me closer by my hips causing my silk slip to bunch around my waist.

“Finally we have some good food.” Aegon chuckles lowly as Ben starts to dip his head down.

Ben places a soft kiss on my wet center sending a shiver through my body. He trails his tongue along my slit making my breath catch in my throat. A breathy sigh escapes my lips as he pulls back to place small kisses on my inner thighs.

“Ben,” his name seeps out of my mouth as he playfully bites down on my tender flesh.

He props my legs on his shoulders and finally brings his torturous mouth to my core. His main focus becomes my clit and at the rapid pace his tongue is moving I would believe that he’s truly writing his apology. A cry erupts from my throat as he slides two fingers into me.

“You guys are so hot.” Aegon groans.

My eyes follow Aegons voice and our eyes lock. My eyes roll back as Ben starts to curl his fingers. Once my vision returns Aegon is hovering over the table and claims my lips. I squeak out in surprise as wine trickles out the sides of our mouth as Aegon brought some with to the kiss. I get lost in the taste of Aegon and the wine as my hips begin grinding onto Ben’s face.

Ben’s rhythm never falters as he begins to pump his fingers faster. Aegon releases my mouth and I let out a loud moan as Ben starts with a third finger. One of my hands buries itself in Ben’s hair and he grunts as I pull. Moans fall from my mouth like a symphony as my orgasm slams through my body washing me in pleasure.

Ben continues with his tongue and fingers while pulling my hips even closer to his face. My whole upper body is arching off the table as he continues his assault. Aegon brings his mouth back to mine to try and hide the whimpers and moans that have been pouring from my mouth.

“Quiet down before I shove my cock in your mouth to silence you.” Aegon says hoovering above my lips.

I come hard squeezing my legs shut around Ben’s head and sobbing into Aegons mouth. Ben offers small licks that continue to send jolts through my body. He finally detaches himself from me and looks up to me with a wet face.

Ben removes both of my legs slowly offering kisses down each until they’re hanging off the table. Aegon grabs my ankle and pulls me over to him. I slide across the table giggling as I stop in front of Aegon.

“I think I would like a taste too.” he hums before bringing his mouth to my over sensitive core.

“Aegon fuck,” I breathlessly pant as his tongue laps at me.

I fall back onto the table with a thud as his tongue zeros in on my clit. My body is trembling with pleasure at every swirl of his tongue. Ben captures my lips in a kiss and swallows all of my whimpers. My hips rise off of the table as I explode all over Aegons tongue.

“Fuck, please,” I whine voice cracking as he continues with his mouth.

“You can give him one more on the table.” Ben coos to me as he pushes my slip the rest of the way up.

Once I’m fully exposed on the table Ben wastes no time reaching for my breasts. His fingers are quick to start pinching and pulling my nipples. Both of their names fill the space between the pants that tumble from my mouth.

“Aegon, I- I, fuck Ben,” a sob tears through me as I come across Aegons tongue again.

“Mm, such a good girl for us.” Ben whispers smoothing my hair.

Aegon removes himself to sit up and take in my disheveled state. My breathing is ragged as my chest rises and falls. Ben slowly pulls my slip back down and they shower my body with kisses offering me words of praise.

“Come, let’s go lay on the couches with some wine.” Ben offers me his hand as Aegon gathers the bottles and cups.

As I hop off the table my legs threaten to give out underneath me. I giggle as Ben’s hands rush to my forearms to help steady me. We all collapse onto the couch which is more of the size of a bed thankfully for us. Aegon hands us our cups filled anew and we all sip in silence.

The wine helps me calm my breathing as I sink back into the couch between the two of them. They both have hands grasped on my thighs rubbing soothing patterns and squeezing softly.

“I wanna fuck you.” Ben’s breath fans across my neck as he trails kisses up my jaw.

“Please Ben,” I whine as his hand travels under my slip to wet core.

“Get on your stomach. Head in Aegons lap.” he nods his head standing up to tower above us.

I slowly start to turn over and place my head on Aegons thighs and raise my ass into the air. I feel the day bed dip behind me and turn my head to look up at Aegon who is smirking down at me. Ben’s hands go to my hips and lift them up to meet his. His tip swirls around in my wetness and glides against my clit causing me to gasp.

“You ready?” Ben asks breathlessly trailing a hand down my spine.

“Yes,” I mewl as I rock my hips back.

He slowly slides every inch into me as I bury my head in Aegons lap. Once his hips are flush against my ass I sigh pushing it back into him seeking more friction. He pulls out and slams back into me almost sliding me across Aegons legs. Both of his hands grab my hips roughly as he starts pounding into me.

Moans keep pouring from my mouth has his hips repeatedly snap into mine. My hands are gripping Aegons thighs as my nails bite into him. I rest my head on his thigh and get lost in my pleasure as Ben continues with no end in sight.

“Keep her quiet.” Ben looks to Aegon as a particularly loud moan falls from my lips.

Aegon is quick to slide his underwear down and free his cock. He wastes no time trailing it along my parted lips. I let my tongue fall out of my mouth and press into his hardened length. Aegon groans and begins to push himself inside my mouth.

“Taking us both so well.” Aegon groans moving my hair to the side so he can watch.

I begin to sloppily bob my head as spit trails out from the sides of my mouth. I groan around Aegon as Ben lifts my hips a little higher to reach a new angle. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as Aegon sets a pace of his own.

Aegon and Ben find a rhythm where when pulls out the other is pushing in. My body is shaking from the amount of pleasure I’m receiving and I let out a harsh sob when Aegons sneaking fingers find my abandoned clit.

“Fuck, squeezing me so good.” Ben pants as his hips begin to falter before he finds a new rhythm.

Aegon shoots down my throat without warning and it begins to spill out the side of my mouth. He pulls out panting and stokes my jaw affectionately. Ben’s hands travel up my spine before wrapping around my front. He pulls me up flush against his chest and begins driving his cock up into me. He wraps a hand around my throat and turns my head to look back at him.

“Beautiful.” Ben whispers as his mouth attaches to mine.

Aegons come mixes with saliva trailing down mine and Ben’s face. His hand applies soft pressure and I kiss him even harder. I whine into Ben’s mouth as I feel Aegons traitorous tongue begin to softly lick at my clit. Ben and I break away from the kiss and gaze down at Aegon. Ben and I both come as we look upon him under us.

We all slowly pull apart and fall back onto the bed, breathing ragged. Aegon takes a sip of wine and passes the cup to us. We all look thoroughly ruined as we lounge back into the couch.

“Someone has to call a servant for more wine.” Aegon sighs as he picks up the empty bottles.

“You’re already up.” I roll my eyes. “Wait! Put some fucking pants on before you scar the staff.” I shout at him before he opens the curtains.

“As if your moans didn’t do that already.” Aegon tosses over his shoulder as he slips back into his trousers.

Aegon breezes out of the villa and Ben tucks me into his side. He kisses me lazily as his fingers stroke my cheek. We pull apart when Aegon returns with more bottles and candles as the sun is beginning to set.

We continue drinking late into the night and then start to pull our clothes on to make our way back to the Keep. We stumble in the main doors giggling and hanging off of each other. As we make it up the stairs Alicent is standing in front of our chambers with a scrunched brow.

“All of you get to bed. Now.” she says through her teeth. “We will discuss your actions in the garden on the morrow when, Gods hoping, you all will be sober.” she looks to us with disgust and swishes back to her chambers.

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masterlist

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part XI

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 1.8k | Warnings: none

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Masterlist

Azriel knocked on Feyre’s door, a soft come in coming through before entering. Feyre sat at her vanity, braiding her hair back as she made eye contact with him through the mirror.

“Hi, Az.”

He smiled before softly shutting the door behind himself.

“Have you given any more thought to what we talked about?”

He nodded, his ears twinged slightly pink. “I’ve never let Rhys do this.”

“I understand.”

“And if you see anything too.. private…” His words trailed off, but Feyre raised a hand up, closing her lips with a lock and throwing away a key.

“My lips are sealed.”

He sat in the chair in the corner, back straight as Feyre sat in the chair next to him, a bit uncertain of how to sit - usually she spent her time in this chair reading books, not her friend’s memories.

“I was too scared for Rhys to see. I didn’t.. she didn’t.. she’d hate having him see her like that.”

Feyre nodded, “I understand, she didn’t want to have him accidentally seeing some part of her he shouldn’t.”

“No,” Az laughed, sensing where Feyre’s thoughts had headed, “no, she uh- she wouldn’t want him to see the vulnerability.”

“Mmm,” Feyre hummed lightly as Azriel relaxed into the chair. “And why’s that?”

Talking about you so openly was still strange for Azriel - you had remained a guarded secret for so long, a topic he spoke more on in these past few weeks than the past century.

“Rhys is a fixer. She hated being upset around him because all he wants to do is fix things.”

Feyre rubbed Azriel’s arm, a comforting touch in such an unfamiliar space. A moment passed in silence before Feyer spoke again.

“Let your mind drift, Azriel.”

And so he did. 

His mind drifted across several centuries of time and space, centuries passing with no new memories of her. His thoughts flowed, bouncing from idea to idea, scrap of memory to scrap of memory. He felt Feyre’s presence in his mind, like she was hovering just over his shoulder through his thoughts. 

It started with snippets - her hands, her mouth, her touch. It got more clear as he thought more and more - her neck , her eyes, her smile. He could make out her voice, telling him to “please take care of yourself, babe.” He felt her hands roam his body, her touch curious and navigating as she slid down his body, kissing down the front of him.

The scene changed to a more detailed scenario, the two of you cuddled in the library, tucked away in a cozy corner in front of a fireplace. You yawned as you got further into your book, nestling into his side more as your eyelids grew heavier.

A loud sound occurred in the back of his head, the memory version of himself looking around the room for the source. You stayed relaxed in his arms, your concentration undeterred. 

Feyre’s urgent tone coming to him told him he wasn’t as safe as he thought. Azriel’s memories were murky, morphing into the surroundings of Feyre’s room, Feyre’s arms tightening around him as Rhys burst into their room. Chest heaving, he moved toward the pair, pointing at Azriel.

“She felt me. In her chest - she felt me. She felt how sad I was because she plays chess differently. What a silly thing for her to finally understand her powers over.”

Feyre and Azriel looked at each other, confused glances at Rhys’s rambling. He was stressed, pulling at the strands of his hair, his usually perfect hair strewn about. 

“Azriel,” he pointed to his brother before straightening his posture, “you are not to spend any more time with her. Feyre and I will take over all duties regarding her.”

Azriel felt molten hot rage inside of him as he stood quickly, ready to sling snarls at his brother, but Feyre pushed him behind her, pointing a finger back at Rhys. “He will do no such thing.”

“Yes he will. She’s going to see him and she’s going to know something’s wrong. She’s not an idiot - she hustled me at chess. She’s going to figure it all out.”

Feyre couldn’t even figure out what he was talking about. “She’ll figure it out eventually!”

“Yes, but we want her to find out in a controlled way. Not like this.”

Azriel felt a sting in his chest, the insinuation at his untamed emotions. He felt like a small child having caught his parents fighting over him.

“No.” Feyre’s tone was final. “That’s a terrible idea, Rhysand. To keep her from her mate? For who knows how long?”

“She’ll find out if she sees him!” Rhys’s eyes were wide, the veins in his neck popping.

“Afraid she’ll figure it out and remember who she’s mated to?” Azriel pushed Rhys, a snarl coming from him at the provocation. “Just fucking say it Rhys, you hated her being mated to me and this way you get to rewrite it.”

“That’s not-” Rhys chuckled, his voice deepening. “Az, you have it wrong.”

“Do I?” Az shoved Rhys again, the High Lord responding by shoving Az right back, nearly avoiding the table. 

“Yes. You have it wrong.”

“Because I’m too stupid to see why you’re trying to keep my mate from remembering me?” Shadows moved about the room, slithering aggressively as Rhys spoke of their mate.

“Rhys, you can’t keep him from her. She was progressing!” She yelled over their wrestling bodies, wincing as Azriel punched Rhys across the face. 

“No, he’s finally gotten the perfect chance for a do-over! I was never good enough for her, and now he can find someone who is.”

“Rhys, if she figures it out, would it be so bad? The sooner the better, right? I mean it’s only been a few weeks, you left me in the dark for months.”

Rhys pushed off the ground, shoving Azriel down as he straddled him. He pushed his head into the rug, Azriel’s shadows pushing against Rhys to no avail. The High Lord avoided the conflicting voices of the room, opting to focus his energy on Azriel instead. 

Azriel pulled his legs back, giving him momentum to swing his head up and headbutt Rhys on the forehead. The High Lord drew back, panting as he tried to get up. Azriel was quick on his feet, running forward into Rhys, knocking him back down. He held the High Lord down, yelling, “then what is it?”

“She’ll remember me!”

Azriel stilled, his hold on Rhys loosening. “What are you talking about?”

The fight had left Rhys’s body, his voice dejected as he let the truth he had been holding onto slip out softly. “She’ll remember how I didn’t save her. The two of you will leave.”

Feyre cooed from the side, “oh, Rhys.” She sat on the floor next to her mate, but she looked to Azriel instead, nodding to her mate when Azriel’s gaze met hers before flicking back down to his brother. 

“Why would I leave, Rhys?”

“Can we have this conversation when you’re not on top of me?”

“No.” Feyre and Azriel answered in unison, their tones laced with finality.

The air was still for a long moment, the only sounds were Rhys and Azriel’s heavy breathing.

“You hated me after she died, Az. I can’t go through that again.”

Azriel watched Rhys’s eyes get red, the violet eyes he loves so dearly lined with silver, but it just confused him. “I didn’t hate you.”

“You blamed me for her death.”

“I blamed all of Spring for her death.” Azriel’s tone was devoid of emotion, as if the court itself all banded together to condemn his mate’s life.

“You wouldn’t look at me for years.”

Azriel slumped, his weight on Rhys’s chest releasing the air from the High Lord’s lungs. “I couldn’t..” He trailed off before taking a deep breath and trying again. “I couldn’t look at you. You looked just like her.”

Azriel’s words were soft, but they hung in the air. Azriel shuffled off of Rhys, sitting on the floor, leaning against their bed. “It was easier to be angry, but whenever I looked at you, it made me… it was like she was seeing me again.”

Rhys crawled to sit next to his brother, Feyre sitting on the other side of Az. The shadowsinger refused to look at either, unable to take their pitying looks, looking to his boots instead. “It was like she was watching me fail her after she died.”

Rhys blew air from his lips, something roaring in Azriel at the action. “In what universe have you ever failed her? The only way you ever failed her was that one time you let her win at cards.” A laugh came from his lips at the memory, the way you had stomped about at your mate’s deception and loudly fought with him over it, much to Cassian and Mor’s drunken amusement. 

Az rolled his eyes, your huffing and puffing entering his mind. You had been so upset with him you didn’t want to look at him, but insisted he sleep in the same bed. You spent the night turned away from him, being an aggressive little spoon as he wrapped his limbs around you. “It was the hardest thing I had ever done, letting her win, and she didn’t even appreciate it. She wouldn’t look at me for days.”

You had refused to look at him, causing him to resort to any tactics to get the upper hand. His shadows had been very helpful in causing you to be needy for his touch, but he was quite annoyed with your defiance, going so far as to climb on top of him, but facing towards his feet as you rode him.

Rhys laughed, “the Mother has a sense of humor making the two most competitive creatures mates.”

Az pointed a finger at Rhys, “you’re no better! You said she hustled you. In what universe did you think you could ever beat her at chess?”

Rhys looked sheepishly to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had hoped perhaps along with her memories went some of her skill and wit.”

Feyre’s hand reached across Azriel to smack Rhys’s chest, saying his name in a chastising tone. He held his hands up in surrender, “serves me right, she swindled me out of a line of credit in her name.”

Azriel laughed so loudly it startled Feyre. “Her favorite hobbies always were spending someone else’s money and conning you.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

I got cursed series taglist: @doodlebugg16-blog @ceoofyearning @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @willowpains @anarchiii @i-am-infinite @bsenpai @sstrohma @teenagellamaangel @allthatisbuck1917 @elsie-bells @rcarbo1 @pruvii @whyshouldihaveanam3 @sleepylunarwolf @slytherintaco

Thanks for reading ❣️

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 14: The Perfect Plan

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 6123 words.

A/N: Sorry for posting late. The power went out last night mid translation lmao. Third world country typa shit

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

The gloom of the castle was welcoming. Infusing themselves with the darkness. Walking in a straight line on the crimson carpets in the company of a small candle was Uraume's favorite activity. They had from 10 p.m. to 3 a.m. to relax, watch around without the pressure of having the king on their shoulders while being consumed by their own thoughts. They didn't have to think or worry until the sun peeked over the mountains. It was just Uraume marching like a soldier throughout the castle alongside the army of curses that guarded the perimeter like hawks. 

Loud, determined footsteps caught their attention, igniting battle mode in their mind. A stowaway had infiltrated the castle without the curses noticing? Uraume quickly ran to find the source of the noise. A wild Yorozu who was out of her room after curfew. She had broken one of the most important rules of the castle. “What the fuck is she doing?” they thought, annoyed. 

Uraume was fed up with both sisters. They hated you for being so gentle and fragile to everyone when the king needed someone strong on his side, but it didn't compare to the abhorrence they felt for Yorozu. Uraume had never been so happy to lose a servant before. In the few weeks she was under his charge, she destroyed a set of dishes, stained a collection of tablecloths and turned the entire service staff against her. They tried everything to correct her insolent attitude, but nothing seemed to work. When the king dictated that Yorozu would be his apprentice, they didn't know whether to cry with happiness at having a new sorceress in the castle or worry about the king’s choices. 

“You know I never go against your will, my king,” Uraume said to the king as he reviewed documents on his desk. “But Yorozu is undisciplined, vulgar and dirty, as I mentioned in my reports. Of all the curses that would do anything to be your apprentice, you chose her? This time I don’t understand your decision,” they asked, confused by his actions. 

“I'm not doing it for me,” Sukuna confessed before sealing a receipt abruptly, a small maneuver to make Uraume understand that they were going too far with their voice tone. “I'm doing it for her.” 

“You're fucking lucky you're that one's sister,” Uraume thought as Yorozu walked towards them without fear the consequences. It was as if she was casually reuniting with an old friend in the park, she greeted them from afar waving her hand from side to side with a big smile printed on her face. 

“Good evening, Uraume,” Yorozu greeted enthusiastically.  

“You should be in your room. It's already past 10 o'clock,” Uraume reminded her. 

“I'm just going to look for my sister in the king's room,” the brunette explained. 

“A year of watching me like a hawk, and you know nothing about me?” For some reason, that comment you had made bothered them quite a bit. You couldn't be so complex to tell them something like that. You were just a simple fragile human like every other lady they ever met. There was nothing special about you or your sister. You were two open books with clear intentions. There was nothing you could hide in front of their nose. “That's impossible. She would never break such a simple rule.” Uraume set the candle down on the nearest table to remove their hands from the black cloak that wrapped around their body whenever night came. 

“I don't think you understand what happens to humans who go outside curfew,” Uraume warned her before placing his palm in front of her. 

“Wow, and I thought you liked me,” Yorozu scoffed with a confident smile, quickly understanding that a fight would start soon. 

“Not a bit,” Uraume admitted. 

They launched a flurry of sharp stalactites towards Yorozu. Her grinning opponent didn't hesitate to create her beetle armor. The emerald green exoskeleton glowed in golden hues against the torches illuminating the hallway. The stalactites hit Yorozu's armored body, so it only caused her to recoil from the impact. Uraume created two stalactites that served as swords for melee and took advantage of the recoil to run towards her. Quickly, they looked for an open area to fit his improvised weapon. Uraume snapped them in the neck area, but the ice shattered when it came in contact with the hard armor. Yorozu didn’t miss the open opportunity to kick her opponent in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the hallway. 

“Is that all you've got?” Yorozu asked them before creating a sword with her technique to hit him back. 

Uraume generated a piece of dry ice thick enough for the sword to get stuck in it. Yorozu tried to pull it out, but his strength was not enough. Uraume spun the ice on its axis so that Yorozu let go and broke the piece of ice on her head. Yorozu recoiled from the massive blow she received. She could barely breathe under the mask from the tremendous knockout. Everything was spinning and she thought she was about to pass out. “Sister...” she prayed that you would appear at that instant to help her. Yorozu had consumed almost all her energy creating the armor and the heavy sword, but she couldn't give up. Not yet.

“Is that all you've got?” Uraume asked as they watched her with disdain as she gasped for her life against the wall. 

Yorozu screamed in rage as she created a knife and ran towards Uraume. If she was going to die that night, at least she would die fighting on her feet. They just looked at her with disappointment before blowing ice at her. Freezing her entire body instantly, leaving her head out so she could breathe. Yorozu screamed in desperation as she flailed like a worm in salt in order to escape, but all her attempts were in vain. Uraume reached over to slap her. The hollow sound echoed down the hallway, drawing the attention of some cursing. 

“Shut up, you'll wake the king,” they scolded her. 

“You can't do this to me, I'm the king's apprentice,” Yorozu threw a tantrum. Uraume slapped her again, now on the other cheek. 

“I told you to shut up,” Uraume repeated with a macabre smile. They were having fun watching the little sorceress agonize. 

“You're only doing this because you're jealous, aren't you!?” Yorozu tried to trigger them. 

“Jealous of whom?” Uraume asked, offended. “I would never be jealous of a filthy rat like you.”

Uraume held her tightly by the jaw, enough to mark their slender fingers against her pale skin from the extreme cold. Yorozu could do nothing against the experienced sorcerer. It was a pity that a fool had such extraordinary power. Uraume's smile widened as they watched their opponent shiver and complain from the cold. It was satisfying to see someone finally teach her a lesson. 

“Consider yourself lucky if you make it to the morning,” Uraume said, turning their back on Yorozu to walk away down the hallway. 

The sorceress screamed, pleaded and squirmed as she watched Uraume take the candle and continue the vigilance, completely ignoring her cry for mercy. “Don't worry, my sister will come back for me once she doesn't find me in her room.” Yorozu held up hope as she shivered. She was beginning to lose feeling in her fingers and gradually her touch as well. Her hair clung to the ice trying to avoid resting her chin against the ice. 

The sun peeked through the curtains, the fireplace had gone out and the crows were merrily singing a somber song. You awoke in the king's warm arms, just as they had fallen asleep. You wiped the drool that was subtly escaping from your mouth as you half-opened your eyes to see the golden clock on the nightstand. It wasn't long before the king would be awakened for breakfast, which meant you were late getting ready. You slipped out of Sukuna's arms, waking him slightly. 

“Good morning,” you whispered with a tired smile. 

“Morning your ass,” he grumbled before rolling over and covering his face with the blanket. “He can be really childish,” you thought with a chuckle.

You jumped off the giant bed to leave the room. As you opened the door, you ran into a shocked Uraume, who was about to knock on the door. They watched you with wide eyes and their mouth sweeping the floor. “Yorozu wasn't lying!” They thought as they realized that you had indeed spent the night in the king's room. Uraume could not believe that his king had lost his patience and decided to conceive his heir so soon.  

“Good morning, Uraume,” you greeted. “Why is he looking at me like that?” you asked in confusion. You smiled feigning innocence before passing by to run back to your room. 

Uraume just followed you with their sight, still perplexed by the situation. “Yeah I don't know you” they thought about what you had told him earlier as you watched yourself run down the hallway with your pink nightgown fluttering with each step. 

You walked down the hallways until you ran into a block of ice in the middle of the hallway. “Uraume punishing someone?” you thought as you got closer so you could see which servant it was. Your eyes widened at the sight of that brown hair you already knew so well, your sister was trapped in the ice. You called her name several times as your legs moved quickly towards her, but there was no response. Her eyes were closed, she was pale and her lips were blue. You patted her face a couple of times to wake her up, again, there was no response.

“No, no, no...”. You repeated desperately while tears threatened to escape from your eyes at the sight of the situation she was in.

You were in charge of protecting her and making her happy. You neglected her for one night and she ended up being frozen. Who knows how long she had been stranded there. You touched her neck to find her pulse, she was weak, but still alive. You looked around for some tool that could help you get your sister out of her whereabouts, but you first came across a sword that was stuck in a half-thawed block of ice. You tried to pull it out, but it was stuck. You grabbed the sword by the handle and pulled it towards you with all your might, but the weapon would not budge. You kept pulling until your eyes were fixed on the area that was connected against the ice. You stopped pulling to try to do the opposite. You slammed the sword against the point and the block of ice split in two, allowing you to grab the frozen weapon. 

With a breath of relief, you carried the heavy one to the block of ice where your sister was and whipped the sword against the ice. Between groans and sweat from the effort, you smashed the chunk of ice that enveloped your sister to her slow death. Cut after cut, you removed pieces of ice, taking care not to hurt her by accident. 

To your random luck, a large albino dragon with yellow eyes struck the ice with its large forehead. It destroyed the remaining ice with one strong impact, enough to get your sister out of there. Without letting the shock consume you, you hurried to get Yorozu out of the ice to take her to the nearest bathroom to bathe her in hot water. 

“Put her on the muzzle,” Kenjaku said behind you. Quickly, you picked up that he was the one controlling the beast. “Since when has he been standing there?” The dragon opened its maw for you to lay your sister on its blue tongue. It didn't seem like a good idea to you. “Trust me, she'll be fine,” he earnestly indicated to you in the face of the emergency.  

Not having much choice, you placed your sister on his tongue. The white-furred dragon closed its almost human snout carefully so as not to close it completely to make its way to the nearest room. Snaking with the help of its human arms at great speed between the hallways. Kenjaku reached out to take your hand. 

“Come on, let's go treat her,” he said before running off at an average speed, following the dragon as he pulled you along with him. You just followed his orders. 

Sukuna laughed out loud as soon as Uraume reported the consequences Yorozu had suffered for going out after curfew. It was obvious that would happen. She was so stubborn that she knew perfectly well that at some point she would break some of the castle rules, she didn't think she would be foolish enough to break curfew. Sukuna kept laughing as Uraume's confusion grew. She covered her mouth to finally get her laughter under control. Everything was going according to plan.

“Usually I can usually figure out what his plans are quickly, but not lately. I can tell Yorozu annoys you, just kill her like any other inept servant,” Uraume told him as he watched the king change into his elegant clothes. 

“You know why I can't kill her,” he explained as he wrapped the ribbons around his waist around his kimono. 

“Can't you really kill her because she is her sister?” Uraume questioned him, it seemed absurd that that was the reason. There must be something behind it. 

“That's exactly why.” Sukuna smiled broadly before pulling the ribbons, accentuating his figure.

“I don't understand.” Uraume sighed. “The king sure is a strange curse,” they thought, giving up. 

“Patience, Uraume. I only ask for your patience.” Sukuna ruffled their hair before moving to withdraw. “She will die soon, I assure you.” Sukuna gave her one last confident smile before leaving to go to get breakfast. The satisfied smile reappeared on her face. Everything was going according to plan. 

The pearl dragon gently set Yorozu down on the tub filled with hot water. Between you and Kenjaku, you removed the bright green armor and the white dress that saved her life. Without those two items, your sister would not have had a chance to survive the morning. Despite being surrounded by warm water, her skin still felt cold. It would take some time for her body to return to its normal temperature. 

“She looks awful,” Kenjaku mentioned as he returned the dragon to his body, forming a crystalline blue sphere under his sleeve. “I say you should kill her already,” he advised. 

“Kenjaku!” You scolded him. Your eyes threatened him like a whip. “I would never do that, she's my sister.”

“Don't tell me you don't even think about…” 

“Enough!” You exclaimed, annoyed. Kenjaku was startled by the frustrated shout. “Don't even think about finishing that sentence!”

“I was just saying.” Kenjaku shrugged. “That's the first time I've seen her so annoyed,” he thought as he analyzed her.

While Sukuna was constantly watching you, Kenjaku was analyzing you. He didn't do it with bad intentions. He wanted to get to know you better, how you act when he is not in your presence. He was making mental notes of things you could improve on. That's why he hadn't helped you take out your sister before. He was surprised to see you pull the sword out of the ice block with minimal effort, wield that sword as if you had ever held one before in your life and cut the ice precisely so as not to hurt your sister. You were special, that much was clear, but there was something else. 

“I have 6 days left to kill someone. I still have time,” you told him while you took a bowl to wet your sister's head while untangling her long hair with your fingers. “I will kill anyone but my sister. I will protect her at all costs,” you promised her as you looked into her closed eyes. 

“You are such a good person,” Kenjaku replied dryly. “That will only get you killed. He told you before he left. He had to investigate what was going on with you.

You held the bowl tightly to restrain yourself from throwing it at his head when he wasn’t looking. As he disappeared from your sight, you let go of the bowl, letting it float away as if it were a raft. You were fed up. Sick of living in constant fear of surviving in the miserable hole that was the castle. Sick of dealing with your sister's stubbornness. Sick of feeling like you had to deal with a thousand things at once. You needed a break. Even though you had advantages over any of the other inhabitants of the castle, mentally you were worse off than ever. You just wanted this nightmare to be over soon.

Salty tears fell softly on the warm water. You saw yourself in the subtle rippling reflection, tried to fake a smile, but you weren't in the mood for that. You hated having to be stronger than you really were in order to resist the urge to commit suicide by living among corpses. You held your forehead to take a short break from it all. A short break from the king, Kenjaku, Uraume, your sister, the servants, from everyone, absolutely everyone. 

You decided to go to your happy place. The warmth of his arms, the close beating of his heart and his soft nightly purr. You felt welcome and safe despite being nestled in the bosom of a genocidal man. It was true that he was full of hate and evil, but last night he was just a man nervous to be in front of a naked woman. Someone who was just hatching out of her shell to give you affection. You hugged yourself to try to replicate the effect he made you feel, but it didn't work. Your arms were much, much thinner in comparison.  

Water splashed as the fingers of your sister's hand began to move. You wiped away your tears to greet her with joy that she was now okay. Her eyes squeezed shut as she grew accustomed to the light as you inspected her. Yorozu had never woken up to such a horrible sight. His blood rushed to his head with anger. This was the last person she wanted to see. 

“Yorozu!” You exclaimed, happy to see her alive. 

Instead of greeting you with a smile as she always used to, Yorozu looked at you with pure hatred. She latched on to the edge of the tub to launch herself at you in a direct attack. She knocked you to the ground to reach your neck to choke you. You grabbed her wrists tightly to fight against her will. 

“What are you doing?!” You exclaimed confused when you saw the clear homicide attempt. 

“You were going to kill me!” Yorozu exclaimed angrier than ever. 

“Of course not! What the fuck are you talking about?!” You asked her before throwing her to the side to get her off of you. 

“But you thought it, Kenjaku said so!” Yorozu barely got up on shaky legs. 

“It's a misunderstanding! I would never dare to even think about it! You're my little sister!” You exclaimed as you looked at her with “believe me” eyes. 

“Pretend to be the good one all you want, but we both know you're a piece of shit inside!” Yorozu approached you at a strong pace to attack you again. You backed off because you didn't want to fight someone who had recently gained consciousness. 

“I'm sorry I'm not perfect, Yorozu, but I do everything I can to protect you. I would never hurt you on purpose,” you explained, dodging her attack attempts. 

Yorozu stopped in mid-stride to laugh hysterically at your answer. You had never seen her like that before. It was as if someone or something had taken over her body. Her irrational way of acting was starting to scare you.

“Protect me? You protecting me?!” Yorozu exclaimed. “Where were you last night?!” she exclaimed, annoyed. 

You swallowed dryly as you remembered the answer. Feeling guilty that you had spent the night in the king's arms while your sister was freezing to death, but you hadn't meant to. You had told her to stay in your room, but you knew you would never convince her that it was her fault. Everything bad that happens to her is your fault. You were starting to get sick of it too. It was getting harder and harder to protect her. 

“The king ordered me to spend the night with him,” you admitted. 

“You're a fucking bitch,” Yorozu barked before he lunged at you to hit you. 

Having only just regained consciousness, she wasn't so quick. You moved out of the way to dodge her and ran for the exit. Yorozu tried to chase you, but you slammed the door in his face. She was banging hard on the door with his shoulder to open it, but you pressed your back against it so he couldn't get out. You pulled a chair that was within your reach to block the door. You sighed from exhaustion before sitting down on the bed in the empty guest room. 

“You lying bitch! You said you would only talk to him!” she exclaimed with loud knocks on the door. 

“I'm sorry, really, I'm sorry, but I can't let you sacrifice your life like that,” you explained while making sure your sister didn't leave. She had to calm down. 

“Why not? I want to do it! You don't even like the king!” Yorozu exclaimed, hitting the door with a rubber hammer she created with the little energy in his body. Thankfully the doors were thick enough not to succumb easily to the tool. 

“Sorry. I changed my mind,” you said softly. 

Yorozu's thrashing stopped as he understood that the situation had changed. He didn't know what had happened last night, but he knew he wouldn't be pleased to find out. Yorozu cried out in frustration as he pounded on the door with the hammer. 

“It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!” She exclaimed in annoyance. “I want to be with the king! That's all I want in life!” 

It hurt you to hear her like that, but you knew you couldn't let it happen. Little by little you could see how she was self-destructing under her own weight, she would never be able to withstand the pressure of being accountable to the great king Sukuna, the king of curses. You sighed as you listened to her throw her terrible tantrum. 

“I'm sorry, but it's the only thing I won't give you. It's for your own good,” you told her before walking away from the situation. “Please calm down and recover your energy. I will ask one of the servants to bring you breakfast.” 

You walked as fast as you could with a firm step to get to your room to get ready for the day, despite what had happened you had to fulfill your obligations for the day. Once you closed the door behind you, you were alone. The world crumbled over you. You collapsed to the floor before letting out a high-pitched cry of frustration as wild tears rolled down your cheeks. Your fingernails scraped the ground in search of something to hold on to. Your chest heaved up and down from spasms from crying. You couldn't breathe properly because your nose was clogged with mucus. Why was everything so hard? Why couldn't you have a normal sister who liked any man? Why were you in this situation? If only you had stayed a simple maid, this wouldn't be happening. You were trying to do everything right, but something always had to go wrong. You hated that it had to come to this point, only now was not the time to give up. You just needed this moment alone to vent your pain. 

Sukuna ate breakfast alone for the first time in a long time. It was understandable, you were too busy with your sister to sit at the table to eat with him. He hated it, but he would let it go this time. Seeing no one at the table by the time Uraume brought the food, he just got up to head to his office. The servants looked at him in disbelief as this was the first time this had happened. Uraume looked at him in surprise. They thought his eyes would pop out from opening them so wide during the day.

Sukuna calmly sipped his human blood tisane as he looked out the window. From the cherry-colored sky, the patches of green grass that appeared between the snow, and the few birds that flew over the landscape, he knew that spring was approaching. The season of good beginnings and fertility. If everything went according to plan, he would try to conceive his heir in three more months. Someone knocked on the door, ruining his little moment of peace. He sat at the desk to look busy and gave permission for the person to pass. It was Kenjaku.

“A little bird told me that you spent a nice night with the young lady.” Kenjaku smiled flirtatiously, trying to make the king blush.

“Nice is one way to describe it,” he said, downplaying it.

“Maybe hot is a better definition?” Kenjaku raised his eyebrow flirtatiously. Sukuna raised his fingers, making Kenjaku raise his hands in surrender for fear of being killed at that moment. “I was just joking,” he excused himself. “I just want to know if the books were of any use to you.”

“I didn't even finish reading the first one,” Sukuna admitted before taking a sip of his tea.

“So, I imagine you have a lot of questions for me,” Kenjaku asked excitedly.

“No, really, Y/n explained everything to me,”

“Ah…” The master thought dejectedly. “Really? I'm surprised she knows about such things. I think I was wrong to assume she was a virgin.” The king raised his eyebrow.

“Virgin? What does that mean?” Sukuna asked.

“That she has been subjugated by another man before you,”. Kenjaku answered.

Sukuna squeezed the cup hard enough to break it into a thousand pieces, spilling the hot, reddish liquid over his white clothes. Sukuna didn't understand love, but he did understand control. He was jealous of that imaginary man who once had you in his possession. Who was that man you once obeyed? Who had the pleasure of having you for himself and losing you completely?

"There's some tea in your…" His servant tried to tell him, afraid of the consequences of telling him the truth.

“I know,” Sukuna shushed him. “Is that all? I have to change my clothes.” He reluctantly stood up from his seat.

“I actually came to give you some very good news. I discovered something very interesting this morning,” Kenjaku explained. “Miss Y/n may have a technique.” Sukuna immediately sat down in his seat, completely interested in what the master had to tell him.

“Continue.” The king raised his eyebrow at his uncertainty.

“I still don't know much about it, since I just found out this morning. The only thing I do know is that it has to do with object manipulation. That's why she's good at handling weapons she's never worked with,” Kenjaku explained.

“Was it because of Yorozu?” Sukuna asked him.

“That's right,” the lesser curse nodded. “My hypothesis is that emotions play a big part in her technique. It's most likely an innate technique, so only she will know how to deal with it," he explained.

"It's most likely also a family thing. Yorozu manipulates materials to her liking, it may be directly related to that," Sukuna opined.

"I'll look more into it, I just wanted to let you know, my king." Kenjaku bowed before moving on to leave.

Sukuna covered the big smile on his face. This was going perfectly, according to plan, too perfectly. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to form the great panorama that awaited him. He just had to let his white pieces act on their own and soon he would have what he wanted: castling*.

Unable to break down the door, Yorozu had no choice but to rest in the hot tub to regain strength. Her entire body rested except for her jaw from the stress of the whole situation. She couldn't believe that her own sister had betrayed her. The sister who wanted to protect her precious king. Why couldn't she just let her do whatever she wanted?! If she became queen, he would reward her by letting her go back to her sisters. It was a win-win, but now it seems she really wants to be queen.

“Ugh!” Yorozu kicked the water, spilling it over the bathroom floor.

Everything was so complicated. Everything was spinning around in her head, but something in particular wouldn't leave his mind. “I have 6 days left to kill someone. I still have time” she quoted what you had told Kenjaku while she was recovering. It was strange. Why did you have to kill someone and why did you have a deadline? You would never kill someone of your own free will, someone must have asked you to. “The king most likely”, she thought about an answer. Now she had to know why he had asked you. The king is so strong and big that he can kill anyone whenever he wants. Why would he ask you to do his dirty work for him?

“Wait!” A lightbulb went off in her mind. “Is that why you two haven't married?” Yorozu had an eureka moment.

If her assumption was right, she had to act right then. She jumped out of the tub to look at herself in the mirror, she didn't look bad at all for having spent the whole night on a piece of ice. She created her beetle armor arm to knock down the door with a bang. She undid it so she wouldn't get dizzy, she was barely recovering. She went out skipping with happiness. "I'm going for that crown, sis!" she thought happily.

She arrived at the king's room after looking for him in his office. One of the servants, blushing at the sight of her bare breasts, told her that the king had stained his clothes. She knocked on the door three times and the king opened it, disappointed that it was her. Yorozu blushed from head to toe when she saw him with only a towel around his waist. She had interrupted him while he was getting ready again after having stained himself, he had just finished washing.

"I see you survived," Sukuna said, crossing his arms. "How can you live after losing to Uraume?" I asked him why he felt ashamed, but I doubted that word existed in his vocabulary when I noticed that she was completely naked.

"They are a great sorcerer, hard to beat," she admitted with a pout.

"What do you want here?" Sukuna asked her directly.

"Why hasn't he married my sister?" I asked her.

"What do you care about that?" Sukuna answered reluctantly for meddling in other people's personal affairs.

“Is it because she hasn't killed anyone yet?” Yorozu asked him with a gleam in her eyes.

“She told you?” The king frowned.

“No. I figured it out myself,” she said proudly. Sukuna leaned against the large door frame that was custom made for him like the rest of the castle.

“I see. And what will you do with that information?” He was interested in her answer.

“If I kill someone before her, can I become the queen?” Sukuna opened his eyes at the sudden confession.

And that was how he realized what Yorozu was hiding all this time. She was acting like his powerful apprentice so she could win his heart and give her the position he had offered her sister. Even though she was not a saint of his devotion, he liked that fierce part of her. It's a rare trait in women of her type.

“Fine. You have 6 days to kill her.” Sukuna agreed. Yorozu's eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Yes, my king! I'll kill the first one I find on the way!” She said excitedly.

“Did you not hear well?” The king growled angrily. He approached her level to face her. “I told your sister that she could kill anyone because that alone is complicated for her. You, on the other hand, have a cursed technique, so I must give you a challenge.”

Yorozu's eyes widened as she had the king so close to her face. He had never approached her like that. Her heart began to beat a thousand times an hour while her body tensed with emotion. It was difficult to focus when he was hypnotizing her with his eyes.

“You must kill your sister, do you understand?” Sukuna repeated slowly so she would understand.

"Yes, my king," she said between stammers.

“Well, let me know when you do it. It will be interesting to see.” Sukuna raised his torso to look down at her with superiority.

“I will do it tomorrow when I regain my energy, my king,” Yorozu warned him with a blush on his cheeks. “I will not let you down!” He said goodbye before returning to his room with excitement.

Sukuna followed his sister-in-law's bouncing butt until he lost sight of her to close the door and see Mrs. Inoue who was hiding behind it during the entire conversation. The poor woman had heard the conversation, since she was the unfortunate enough person in charge of cleaning him on that occasion. The poor woman trembled like a pudding in an earthquake after hearing the grim conversation. They were about to kill her best friend, she had to do something! 

“Don't you have something to do?” Sukuna opened the door to the woman. She immediately understood the task that had been assigned to her.

“I'll go tell her right now!” The lady exclaimed before running off as fast as her chubby legs would allow her. He held the smile again, it was too early to celebrate. Everything was going according to plan, all that was left was for the tower to switch places with the king.

You were reading one of the hundreds of books that Kenjaku had left you as homework next to the giant window. The afternoon was slowly falling, darkening first on the horizon and then slowly eating up the sky. You repeated the same sentence over and over again as if you couldn't concentrate. You kept thinking about your sister and what to do with her. The first idea was to get her out of the castle, but neither Sukuna nor she would allow that. The second idea was to lock your sister up for life. The third idea was to throw yourself into the jaws of the three-headed bear. You stuck your head in the book as you lost all concentration.

“Miss!” Mrs. Inoue's scream caught your attention. “Miss!” She exclaimed again before entering the library. Her voice was broken and her body was shaking. You quickly approached her to give her a chair to sit on.

“What's wrong?! Are you okay?!” You asked her worriedly as soon as she sat down.

“It's…! “The filth”, I mean, your sister!” She answered with her voice broken from running all over the castle.

“My sister?! What's wrong with her?!” That worried you even more. You knelt down in front of her to look at her face.

“Nothing's wrong with her,” she said, catching your breath. “But your life is in danger. Tomorrow she's going to kill you in front of the king.” Your heart almost stopped at that moment.

“No... It can't be... She's just exaggerating because she's angry.” Mrs. Inoue slapped you when you were in denial.

“Wake up, kid!” Mrs. Inoue pinched your cheeks. “It's like when they offered us an escape route at the harvest! I heard from her own mouth that she's going to take everything from you! The reign, the husband, the life, everything! Everything is clearer than water!” Mrs. Inoue announced, paranoid.

So that's how it was? You weren't sad anymore, you were more furious than ever. You clenched your fists tightly. Yorozu had chosen a terrible tyrant over her own sister? Well, you were about to choose the same to teach her the lesson of her life.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Inoue. I’ll take care of it.” You smiled at her, placing your hand on her back to reassure her.

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[chilkookiepal]

Burn With Me

kind of yandere /toxic JJK x Reader (hints at reader being black)

summary : in which what yours is mine to Jungkook and what's his is infact Not yours

genre / angst for this chapter , dark romance, themes of exercised control

MINORS DO NOT INERACT!!!

🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍

Jungkook doesn't share

he will do anything you tell him to He would become your servant if you allowed that

He was very curious about  you which meant that he had to be attached to your hip whenever he could that also to him and in his own merits of logic meant that he was allowed to be in your business as much as he wanted You didn't even have to know

he was watching his own unspoken rules getting jeopardized at times especially when you did things like these

What belonged to you belonged to him and the opposite was a dead end

It wasn't just you , jungkook just consisted of too many possessive bones in his body

It's either he was just that good at masking his distaste for sharing or you just couldn't take a hint He didn't even have the time to do s double take in his already livid state

see the thing is he was simply caught off guard

you had gotten into the mood to clean up the house which also meant that the laundry coul not be avoided

You and Jungkook were simply cohabitant new room mates and it has been a little over a month since a friend sent you in the direction of an empty apartment listing Doing all in her might to get you out of her and her boyfriend's freaky way

Upon meeting your landlord you had been skeptical but you didn't have that many choices plus the neighborhood seemed safe and the rent was pretty fair so you moved in

You both got along fine ,quickly falling into a routine,the living situation was practically homey, marriage like sealed with a lot of tension.

his jaw was so tensed if you noticed you would think something was bound to snap,his reaction was simply an erorr detection in his exercised control

you had these instances where you stepped on his toes without even thinking twice

you were not being the most considerate in his eyes and this additional moment as if his day was not bad enough to you, why did you have to have your episodes right when he was livid

he was simply pissed off and you just happened to be the first thing in sight , a winner of his bad moods by default as his eyebrows scrunch at your appearance

"Is that my t-shirt?"

You were a mess to say the least, your braids in a ponytail that fell down from a bun keep getting in your face disrupting the surface of the counter that you are currently wiping down at

in the background you hum to a song blasting on volume 29 , it's nearing 1pm in the day when the door ahead beeps and open revealing a slightly disheveled Jungkook who had knocked off work earlier than normally

Something about his presence is not very friendly in this moment where his tongue pokes at the side of his cheek from the inside

You had never seen him like this before, a nervous light smile gracing your lips When your eyes trail further to examine him his lip seems slightly busted "Jungkook, what happened…are you okay?" You simply ask concern fully evident in your widened shiny orbs

You are not sure what is happening exactly between Jungkook rolling his eyes, a dark chuckle, the quirking if his eyebrow and the impatience evident on his face all together bringing you back to his initial and only words to you as it was your first time seeing him today

"Oh yeah, I was doing laundry and my clothes got drenched " growing antsy under the weight of his gaze you assure him that you have plans to wash it and that it was safe

"So you wear my clothes, who gave you permission?"

if you ever thought your eyes could not get any bigger they could as well have been hanging out of their sockets in this instant

"I didn't think you would mind-' He is stepping closer in slow strides and unwavering predatory gaze solely focused on you and you alone you look like a deer caught in the headlights

"Who gave you the fucking permission to wear my shirt y/n ?"

He seems to be a different person as he stops a little distance from you eyebrows drawn together in an angry frown

you're still trying to be sure that this is Jungkook that standing in front of you, to keep yourself from running the hell out of sight

"I'm sorry, I -" he chuckles in disbelief "you can be such a selfish brat sometimes, I can't believe you would just help yourself to my clothes without my permission  what else do you fucking take from me when I'm not around, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question and His words taking on a patronizing tone that triggers a defensive alarm in your brain

the way he drags his eyes across you makes you question your existence for a hot minute

and somewhere between the pitch of Jungkooks mean words , his gaze and the ringing in your ears turning into a deafening  intolerable sound your eyes start tearing up and when you can no longer take any of it even the t-shirt feels like it's weighing you down and in the defeat of it all your hands reach for the hem of the shirt and you drag the t-shirt over your head shoving it in his chest before turning to hide away behind the protective walls of the one thing you infact had the full rights to in jungkooks shared apartment

You are simply too livid to realize the state you have him in in the span of the moment you throw his shirt at him

Tits standing pretty above your figure He never thought he'd ever see this view

and when you turn away from him your pretty ass swaying makes him want to pull you back in to his arms just to feel the softness of your flesh against his finger tips and another tip making his explosive mood into something more sinister than what he had been initially presented with

"Fuck " he lets out under his shaky breath

The door slamming in a distance ahead

You don't come out of your room in the next four hours

Hopeful that he would leave again

You had fallen asleep somewhere in between your crying waking up around sun down to take down your laundry you tie your robe around your figure and your door creaks at contact You don't even make it far when you spot familiar closet colors that belong to you already folded neatly on the nearest couch to your room

You don't bother to look for him Even when the kitchen smells nice and dishes clank there

You retreat back to your room before exiting again to take a shower

When done you get back into your room not acknowledging his presence even though he's sitting right across the room

You were dressed up when you exited the room again, wearing your work attire with your braids flowing down your back and a satchel bag on your shoulder He could tell you were off to work with your change of clothes in the bag that has some volume today hinting him something he won't even let himself consider

He's there on the kitchen island following your every move with his eyes you know he is there so you ignore more you see him as you look around for your preferred pair of sneakers that you are not sure where they went

The comfortable ones that tolerate your herrendous hours of standing

frustrated you go back into your room to check again settling on a  different pair

"Come and eat " A voice you are ignoring announces from the kitchen You ignore him

you are approaching the door when he stands in front of you

"Please "

"I'm not hungry " you say lowly

Your stomach growls for the nth time like a paid actor

his eyebrows knitted knowing that you had not eaten in hours

You try to push past him but he just stands in your way tall and broad as ever

You glare at him hoping he will get the message

Angel,I'm sorry ," he takes the opportunity to let out the word when your eyes finally meet his

"Yeah me too , could you move"

He won't budge , refusing to let you leave without eating

"I'm really not interested"

At least you were talking

"Please"

he has those sparkling eyes staring into your soul

"I already dished for two "

"Well now you got extra for tomorrow "

"You can't work on an empty stomach"

you ignore the last bit of his opinion continuing to scurry away and you don't even hear him approach you until he's dragging you to the counter opening a chair for you and putting a plate in front of you

You eat with him still avoiding him You were always like this You got scared to look people in the eyes whenever you had arguments

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of the things I said- I was not even upset with you, you were just there"

You clear your throat before muttering a heavy apology that tugs at your heart strings

"I'm sorry-

I'm sorry for wearing your t-shirt, it won't happen again"

You simply got forward and out of lane earlier and that makes your appetite want to desipate

You were probably being unreasonable but what if he resented you for all he did for you as well

You surely despised feeling indebted to people and you feared overstepping boundaries and overstaying your welcomes

"Thanks for the food " You are on your feet to do the dishes when he does it again, he takes the dishes to put them in the dishwasher before you can make it to the sink

"Princess, look at me"

He was now stood in front of you too close for your bond to Jungkook that is under reevaluation

With a sharp inhale you meet his gaze , unreadable, almost unfamiliar

"I- I have to go"

He wants to place his arms on the counter to cage you there and never let you out of his sight

"Let me drive you there"

"thank but my ride is already here"

This was his least favorite category of brattiness from you and if you weren't already icing him out he would have pointed it out

You excuse yourself past him and rush for the exit your sneakers squeaking against the tiles with each hypnotic sway of your hips A part of him thinks you don't even know what you do to him And

Truth is you had no clue what you had gotten yourself into He was trying his hardest to change , learning to leave behind a method of love that burns and destroys him and anything he touches

This was no regular man, he was something far more than obsessive and he was scared that he was already getting too lost in you You were right here under his nose now , you grew on him too quickly

What's yours was his and what's his was his, YOU were his you just didn't know it yet which was why he got pissed earlier when you fit perfectly into HIS t-shirt you disrupt an order of control that goes unspoken to him

wearing his t-shirt was just too hard for him to handle but fuck that image of your body is now engrained in his head and in the camera east corner of the apartment in the living room too small to be noticable Well at least to your pretty eyes he thought to himself Same pretty eyes that were glossy when you looked up at him earlier with just a pair of cotton panties on

another pair that you would be losing to Jungkook without a clue in the world

He had no interest to wash that shirt anytime soon, your bare nipples were pressed right against that fabric, his shirt for fucks sake

He wanted to lift you in the air and just fuck you then and there but !he was a patient man however far that would take him

you were becoming like a deep ocean slowly sinking him to the bottom with an anchor that he tied himself securely to his own ankle

You didn't even have to do anything to have him wrapped around your little finger and that is how he knew he had no plans of letting you go well at least any time soon ...

DON'T BE A SILENT READER , I'M HUNGRY FOR FEEDBACK 😭😭

do not translate ,copy / re-use .

[moriwood]

Speakeasy Serenade — s.jy

sim jaeyun x male reader fluff 1k words

As the token gay guy in your circle of friends, going out drinking just means your friends talking about their boyfriends and you pouring out advice. Tonight you meet Jake, who seems to find you prettier than anyone he has met before.

includes: supportive friends (from ive) :D, fluffy college gaes, art guy meets math guy warning: n/a

You casually take a panoramic video for the mandatory social media post, swiftly scrolling through the tables of students your age to the blinding neon signage flaunting the swanky bar you’re currently lounging at. The discordant yet inviting noise of the people chattering and the unrecognizable generic house music coax you to saunter into the beat of the crowd, to melt into its blur and comfort, to lose your inhibitions along your fading sobriety.

The girls are once again enumerating their recent trysts, Wonyoung’s sophomore athlete, Yujin’s substitute instructor, and another childhood friend of Gaeul somehow suddenly coming back. They seek your counsel, begging for romantic advice as if you have any experience under your belt. You don’t, and all you have for reference is your BLs and fan fiction.

“Let’s talk about you now, got anything going on?” Gaeul drawls towards you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, cheek leaning on the back of her hand.

“You should be the one with the most stories here,” Yujin jests, roughly grabbing both of your hands. “You know, Wonyoung’s boyfriend says there’s a gay guy in their team,” she slurs, “she can make him set you two up."

You chortle, “I’m not interested, I’m already satisfied with seeing you all find your guys.”

They teasingly coo at you, patting your head and such. Wonyoung sternly looks at you though, muttering, “but we’d also be happy with you finding your man, okay?” 

You respond with a weak smile. As you inhale the temporary comfort from Wonyoung, your eyes meet a man a couple tables over, in his early 20s you presume, probably a senior from your university. For a second, the man seems to be caught off-guard, yet he quickly recovers with a blinding smile that could only compare to the sweltering of your summer breaks. 

The warmth of the bar could only get so much warmer for a usually cold man like you.

Your palms feel clammy as you fail to immediately break off eye contact, and now the man’s walking towards your friends’ table. The man is handsome, really handsome, and about the same height as you, maybe a little taller. Some less alcohol could have probably given you a wider vocabulary to describe the scene. He blends so well with everyone else, yet he just stands out. 

“Hey, have we met before?” he boldly asks, the conversations on your table abruptly stopping. All eyes are now on the man, and you hear your friends murmuring behind you. His gaze burns you.

“I don’t think our friend here remembers,” Gaeul butts in, noticing you struggling to find your words. Yujin cackles, gripping on Wonyoung’s thigh.

“No, I don’t think so,” you stammer, finding a familiar seal stamped on the guy’s varsity jacket. “Although it’d be safe to assume you’re also from…”

The man deeply chuckles, head tilting back as he holds onto your shoulder, veins running along his arm, Adam's apple bobbing… Damn. “You don’t know how happy I am to find out we go to the same university,” he chimes. “Ladies,” he glances at your friends, “would it be alright for me to borrow your friend?”

“You can even take him home!” Yujin cheers. “We’ll be here waiting for you,” Wonyoung looks at the man up and down, then whispers, “or maybe not.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, they tend to get rowdy when they get tipsy-”

You lose your lousy apology as he pulls you away into the parking lot, where the bar’s house music is instead replaced by the live music from the open lounge across the alley. The new vibe sobers you up, the silence being filled by the strumming of an acoustic guitar and the late night hustle and bustle. Your gut says that the man was about to do something foxy but then you see the man clumsily sit on a curb.

“Uh, I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” he awkwardly clarifies out of nowhere.

You furrow your brows in amusement, “I didn’t think of that-”

“And I forgot my name! Jake. Hi, I’m Jake,” he swiftly puts out his hand, withdraws it, then puts it back out like a malfunctioning robot.

You couldn’t stop yourself from giving a hearty laugh as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Jake,” you chuckle, giving him an uncoordinated handshake. As opposed to his confident and suave demeanor from earlier, he now gives off a more tame, and in fact, quite nervous, aura.

“So, you’ve got a habit of leaving your friends and pulling strangers out of bars?” you tease, sitting down on the curb beside him. A gust of night wind hits the both of you, tousling Jake’s hair to a fluffy mess. He looks like a puppy, you thought.

Jake grins, running a hand through his hair. “Not usually, uh, no. I just… I saw you and knew I had to take the chance. My friends won’t notice I’m gone.” He earnestly looks at you, and flutters bubble deep in your chest. “So, uh… What’s your major?”

“Creative writing,” you reply, “it’s a small community. And you?”

“Math,” he hesitantly replies, almost ashamed. “Kinda boring for you, huh?”

“Hey, there’s beauty in math too,” you contemplate, searching across the theorems and concepts you’ve heard in your mandatory math classes the past few years. The conversation flows as the two of you share the intricacies of your majors, as if you were already plotting a shared future together in your careers.

“Like the golden ratio,” you remember, eyes on Jake’s finger mindlessly drawing circles on the back of your hand. “Turns out there’s a mathematical reason why I find some artworks more pleasing than others.”

Jake’s eyes light up. “And I’m looking at a breathtaking work of art right now.”

You find yourself at a loss for words, looking back at Jake. “That was smooth.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t stop myself,” Jake smiles, tilting his head like an apologetic puppy. You just want to pat his head so bad. “Gotta use all my pick up lines now before I regret it.”

“You’ve got a lot more opportunities to use them,” you reply, belatedly realizing what your response implies. “If you wanna go out with me sometime,” you add. You don’t want to say goodbye yet, and Jake seemed to feel the same thing.

Jake eagerly nods as he fishes his phone out his pocket. “I’d like that. In the daytime, on campus, with no alcohol?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I’d like that too.”

author’s note: hi hello to myself, imma pretend i didn’t go away for six months 😚😚 here’s a nothingburger of a fic as a comeback HEHRTHDHGFHA 🎉 shitty thumbnail i made exposes when i started writing this 💀 also realized i always got my peeps in a college age setting, rly need to broaden my horizons for d next fic wuhnuweuwhheuw

— moriwood.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 4

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky was speechless after you kissed his hand, even though it was through the leather gloves.

You let go of his hand. "Was that too much? Sorry, I’m just overwhelmed by the offer you gave."

“I take that as a yes?” Bucky asked, still processing.

“Well yeah, didn’t I seal it by kissing your hand? I thought it was clear.” You smiled, a hint of playfulness in your eyes.

Bucky chuckled softly. "That's a new way to accept an offer, but joke aside, I’m grateful you accepted."

You lowered your guard, leaning back slightly. "So what happens next? I have to say, I won’t do anything that makes me a homewrecker."

“Oh gosh, nothing like that,” Bucky reassured you, his tone earnest.

“That’s a relief.” You let out a breath, feeling more at ease.

Suddenly, Bucky's phone rang. He picked it up and saw the caller ID: "Victoria." He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to talk to her at this moment. However, he didn't want to ignore the call either, as his fiancée would quickly learn that he had no feelings for her.

He excused himself to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, my fiancé. I apologize for bothering you, but I heard something that doesn't sit quite right with me. I heard that you are with my older sister?" Victoria asked, her voice calm and cheerful, though her perfectly manicured fingers were crumpling a few papers nervously on the other end.

Bucky felt like he had just been caught cheating. "I am. I have something to discuss with her because of what happened last night."

"Oh, I see. Alright, I won’t bother you. See you soon." Victoria ended the call, smirking as she looked at her phone. She knew Bucky's reputation—quiet and calm but ruthless if disrespected. She remembered how you embarrassed him last night and thought perhaps he was giving you a warning.

Victoria felt a tickle of satisfaction, believing Bucky understood her without her needing to lift a finger. She felt lucky to have him as her fiancé.

Bucky, not entirely sure what had just transpired, felt relieved that Victoria didn't seem suspicious and quickly ended the call.

He returned to you and saw you chatting with the waitress and his secretary. In seconds, you had already become close to new people.

Unlike you, Bucky’s circle of friends all had to undergo background checks before he could trust them.

"Let’s talk in the car. I’ll drop you off," Bucky suggested.

"Sure," you agreed, thinking this would save you transportation money.

Inside the luxurious car, you felt like you were being enveloped by the comfortable seat. Even if you worked for 20 years on your teacher’s salary, you wouldn’t be able to afford this car.

Bucky wore his reading glasses and read a document. He spoke to you without lifting his head. "Tomorrow, after your school is over, I’ll pick you up, and we'll meet my psychiatrist."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

Bucky explained, "He knows my condition, and I hope bringing you to meet him will help us find a solution." His voice sounded serious, a little desperate.

"Have you had this disorder since you were little?" you asked.

He flinched, his hand stopping mid-motion as he was about to flip the paper. "It started when I was 12 years old," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

His expression turned grieving. You knew this was the moment to stop asking questions; after all, you’d just met him for the second time. There’s a limit to how personal you can get with someone you barely know.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

The car stopped in front of a small house. It looked old but cozy, especially the garden with its many flowers. Bucky wondered if it was you who took care of all the roses.

You rolled your eyes, "It was my grandma who has the green thumb."

Bucky glanced at the flowers. "Pretty. I’m grateful for your cooperation, but I hope none of this gets leaked to outsiders."

So he was giving you a warning. You made a gesture of zipping your lips. "My lips are sealed." Then you closed the car door and headed to your house.

After he saw you enter the house, he told his driver to start the car.

You watched the car drive away from behind the curtain.

"Is that your boyfriend, my Ophelia?" The cheerful voice of an older woman startled you. You jumped, turning to see your grandma, Cassandra, standing beside you.

She smiled at you, happiness evident in her eyes, but you couldn't share her joy. To your grandmother, you were her daughter, Ophelia, your mother, who had passed away years ago.

Life had been cruel to her, taking away her only daughter, her son-in-law ignored her, and her business at the same time, which took a significant toll on her. The final blow was dementia.

She didn’t remember you at all. At 70 years old, her mind had regressed to when she was 40. Because of the striking resemblance between you and your mother, she thought you were Ophelia.

You sighed and put on a smile for her. "No, he's just a friend."

Cassandra giggled. "Really? Your father will be jealous when he hears this. Uhuk... uhuk..." She started coughing. You bring her to sit on her chair.

Your heart clenched each time you heard your grandma cough. It was getting worse.

She needed surgery, but you didn't have the money.

Having a rich father like Jonathan was useless because you didn't have access to your money. The reason was clear: Genevieve and Victoria.

She really hated you and wanted you to starve to death.

You quickly put a blanket on Cassandra lap and turned on the air humidifier to help ease her cough.

As you added the eucalyptus and lemongrass essential oil into the humidifier, your eyes caught the family photo on the wall. It was a picture of your family—your dad, your mom, and your grandparents—standing in front of your childhood home. Everyone was gathered to celebrate your birthday. But now, it was all just a memory.

You clenched your fist, feeling a surge of determination. Soon, you would get what was supposed to be yours.

💋💋💋💋

The next day after school, you went with Bucky to see the psychiatrist. But before that, the school was in an uproar because of the clothes you were wearing. You, who always dressed like a vampire hunter in jeans, combat boots, a grey shirt, and a black jacket, were now wearing a casual outfit with a vintage aesthetic.

You wore a cream-colored blouse tucked into a high-waisted plaid skirt paired with brown loafers and a light brown blazer with elbow patches. Your hair was styled in soft waves, and you carried a small leather satchel. The change in your appearance left everyone talking.

Jimmy couldn’t believe you were the same teacher who always yelled at him. “Who are you?”

You replied with a smirk, “Your worst nightmare.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Despite your elegant outfit, you still commanded authority.

Bucky also noticed the change in your appearance. “You look different.”

You explained, “I don’t want your psychiatrist to think that I could be a bad influence on you.”

“Fair point,” he nodded in agreement.

After a while, both of you arrived at the destination, a fancy clinic. The receptionist, already accustomed to Bucky's appointments, greeted him warmly. “He’s waiting for you.”

Bucky led you to the room, which was bright and comfortable, conducive to a relaxed atmosphere. The walls were painted in calming colors and adorned with abstract art, and the furniture was modern yet inviting.

There was already someone sitting in the chair, holding a pen and a writing board. It was Dr. Javier, who had known Bucky for a long time.

Javier waited until both Bucky and you were seated. "You told me that you had a breakthrough. Is it her?" he inquired.

Bucky nodded, taking off his leather gloves and putting on a pulse oximeter on his finger. He then reached for your hand, and you placed yours in his.

Javier widened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Bucky showed no signs of panic attacks, and his pulse appeared normal. "Wow. Incredible. How long has this been happening?" Javier asked.

Bucky replied, "Three days."

"After you touched her, you mentioned trying to shake somebody else's hand. Did the panic attacks suddenly reappear then?" Javier inquired further.

Bucky confirmed, "Yes."

Javier wondered what made you so special. Suddenly, he moved closer to you without warning.

You exclaimed, "What the-?"

“Interesting,” Javier nodded. “I can think of one reason: your body fragrance.”

You were taken aback. Did you really smell bad? You started sniffing your clothes. They were still new; you had only worn them three times, and they had been dry cleaned.

Then you remembered, “I am surrounded by buckets of sweat and cigarettes.”

Being around students who smoked and sweated a lot due to their frequent sports activities made you open all the classroom windows to get rid of the smell.

Bucky found it difficult to accept that his disorder could be triggered by your body odor.

Javier felt as though four eyes were judging him. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Your case is one of a kind, Bucky. Perhaps her scent doesn’t trigger your trauma—” He didn’t continue when he felt someone glaring at him.

Trauma? Bucky’s trauma? You wondered what Javier meant.

Bucky crossed his arms and changed the subject. “So the solution to my disorder is the smell of a locker room?”

Javier raised both arms, trying to calm down his patient's anger. “I’m not saying it’s the solution, but it could be.”

Bucky sighed heavily. What kind of nonsense was this? But the way he met you was also out of the blue. His life is full of surprises now.

Author Note: Poor Cassandra. 🥺 Also the reader is a non-smoker.

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[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.12 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Minors dni, mentions of trauma, SA, mentions of violence.

See masterlist

Y/n's heart raced as she watched Lucien standing before her, clutching the Book of Breathings like a lifeline. His presence felt surreal, almost like a figment of her imagination materializing in the midst of a crowded room. She could hardly believe her eyes; Lucien, battered and weary, was standing in front of her.

Lysandra closed the door behind them, sealing off the sounds of the ball and leaving the room in a hushed anticipation, y/n's focus remaining fixed on Lucien.

"Lucien," she murmured, her voice a mix of disbelief and concern. "How did you manage to come here? And what happened to you?"

Lucien's gaze flickered around the room once more before settling on Y/n's face, his expression haunted yet determined. "It's a long story," he began, his voice tinged with weariness. "But I had to find you. The Book led me here."

"The Book led you?" Y/n repeated, her mind racing with questions. 

Aedion wordlessly tapped Lucien on the shoulder, making the redhead turn around to see him pointing at a chair to sit while Elide filled a cup with water from the table.

After he sat down and drank the water, they gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. After a minute, Lucien sighed and began speaking, "I came to Velaris for a monthly visit,"

"The one where you visit for a week and we cause every kind of chaos?"

Lucien smiled slightly at his long-time friend as he said, "Yes, imagine the shock on my face when I found out you were gone, completely disappeared thanks to this book. Everyone was going absolutely crazy. Rhys had ordered every priestess at the library to search for ways to bring you back, even contacted Thesan to order his librariens in Dawn to search for any kind of information,"

He took another sip of his water before continuing, "Az, I don't even know, y/n he- he was just....mad like he isn't in a right state of mind at all because of your disappearance-"

Y/n scoffed, "Yeah, right. Seems like I had to fucking go through worlds for him to feel anything for me-"

Lucien looked at her with a mixture of many different emotions, "Y/n, I don't know what happened between you two but Az has completely lost his mind. Anyways, that we can discuss later, the point is....when I went to Amren's house to see her progress with this book because I was obviously very concerned for you, she told me she can't seem to get past a spell on the book, its like this ancient thing isn't allowing her to break through it. So I sat by her side and decided to see what I can do to help but....."

"But...?" y/n urged, her eyes growing more curious and yet warm towards the male, her close friend, sitting in front of her.

Lucien looked down at his hands that were still clutching the book, "But, then Rhys called Amren to the house, saying Thesan sent an ancient text related to this but the language was too old for any of them to understand. She told me to stay here and guard the book, to not listen to its nonsense words and she will be back soon. Once she left, at first everything was fine but then.....then it just started speaking, hissing and whispering, calling me to it, urging me to open and flip its pages. I tried, I really tried to ignore it but.....I caved in and then when I was close enough and my fingers had opened the book, it was like.......like....."

"Like you were stuck in one place and couldn't move. Like your body had a mind of its own." Y/n finished his sentence for him, seemingly remembering her own experience with the book.

Lucien once again lifted his head, looking up at her, "Yes! Yes, exactly! And then the next thing I knew, everything around me was disappearing, the book as well and then it was just darkness before a voice whispered to me that 'you are home now, fire prince' and I woke up in a grassy hill, surrounded by...well, an expanse of greenery."

Before anyone could interfere with their questions, y/n held up her hand, eyes wide and calculating as realization slowly dawned upon her.

"I heard the same exact thing when I ended up here. The book also led me here in the same exact way."

Dorian was the one who seemingly caught up to her trail, adding "While everyone in your world is having troubles getting here, breaking through the books spells...."

Lysandra continued next, stepping forward to stand beside the king, eyes wide, "Y/n and you were sent here by the book itself. We found out later on that y/n was a witch and had a connection to the gates, her mother being the oldest and strongest witch to ever live, Elara."

A few gasps were heard around the room but the shifter just shook her head, "We can discuss that later, what I mean now is that we found out y/n had a purpose here and that's why the book sent her, that she somehow was needed to be here, in Erilea, in Terrasen. And now, you were sent here by the book and seemingly it came with you this time. What could your purpose be, prince?"

Lucien just furrowed his brows and shook his head while Yrene came forward, Chaol right beside her, one hand on his sword, as she gently kneeled beside the redhead and asked softly, "May I....may I have the book please?"

Lucien hesitated, looking towards y/n to see whether or not he should trust the woman. Once he saw her nod, he turned his head back at the healer and handed her the book with a small, unsure, smile.

Yrene smiled back at him before taking the book and getting up, "I have a theory that I need to test with this and the other book so I would like to excuse myself now, goodnight everyone."

It seems like Chaol would blindly follow his wife anywhere because as Yrene left the room, he trailed right behind her, going wherever she was going.

Aedion turned his head back at Lucien and drawled, "Soooo....what do we do now?"

Before anyone could reply, y/n stepped in front of the redhead prince, her gaze determined as she said, "Lucien isn't going to harm anyone so you do not have to be on alert around him. He will stay here as well, and will help us find a way to sort out this mess."

Lorcan just nodded his head, putting his arm around Elide as she said, "We trust you y/n, so we trust him as well."

"I can show him to his room!" Eva's voice filled the room as she raised her hand, an adorable smile covering her face.

She heard Lucien chuckle behind her as Lysandra said, "Me, y/n, Elide and you could show him. The witches could join if they want to."

Elide smiled, shaking her head, "I need to check on the boys, you three go."

Manon just raised an eyebrow while crossing her arms, "Isn't y/n a witch too?"

Oh that's right. She was a witch. And she started to actually like that name.

Y/n shrugged as she patted Lucien on his shoulder, signaling him to get up, "Well, this is MY friend from MY world. He needs to see a familiar face around, no?"

She glanced at the prince beside her, expecting to see him nodding but instead found him staring at....Petrah, who was right beside Manon, also staring at him.

Lysandra broke their haze as she just came to stand beside y/n, hooking arms with her, "Well then, Lulu, let's get you to your room, shall we? We will all make better introductions and explain everything in the morning."

Lucien's gaze drifted to the shifter, raising an eyebrow as they began exiting the room and walking towards the stairs, "Lulu?"

Y/n and Eva chuckled as Lysandra winked at him, "I just came up with the nickname, thought I could use it."

He just smiled slightly before shaking his head and looked back at y/n, her gaze still filled with concern as she gently asked, "Why are you in this condition? How did you get through the woods?"

The fox looked forward as he explained, "After I woke up in the middle of nowhere, I just went through the forest and clearly had an 'amazing' time for the past two day."

Y/n furrowed her brows, "Strange, when I woke up, the first thing I saw was Fenrys- another member of this court, standing right over my head. How come no one detected your presence?"

Lysandra also had a confused expression etched on her face, "Our wards are strong, at any sign of unusual interference, Rowan and Aelin would be informed, that's what happened when you landed here. But, I don't understand how we never felt Lucien's presence within these borders."

Eva stopped abruptly, turned to look at them all with wide eyes, "What if its because of the Valg? What if they have somehow managed to break through? If that's the case, imagine how many of them could have entered these lands...."

Both Lysandra and y/n looked at one another, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, the former said, "Yes, that's....that's actually a very good posibility."

Y/n slowly nodded, "We will have to speak to Rowan tomorrow-"

"What are you all talking about? What's a Valg?"

All three of them turned to look at Lucien who was just glancing between them, brows furrowed in confusion and arms crossed over his chest.

Y/n shook her head, closing her eyes, "Lu, you have a lot to catch up on. We will tell you everything tomorrow morning."

He was clearly confused and had like a million questions of his own but nodded his head in understanding as they continued on their way.

"Actually, I don't know anyone here except y/n dearest, so, could you tell me your names?"

Lysandra smirked at him, "Lysandra Ennar Ashryver, lady of Caraverre.....also a shifter."

Lucien's eyes widened in shock, "Shifter? Like, you can shift into anything?"

The green eyed woman laughed while nodding as y/n put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Lysandra loves shifting. Just last time, I was almost about to step on her when she was a ladybug."

Lysandra winked at the winged female as Eva, smiled brightly before saying, "Evangeline, book and chaos lover."

Everyone laughed at that as they reached the room where Lucien will be staying in, "Well, Lulu, this room is yours for the keeping."

Lucien said his thanks before the shifter and Eva left, leaving y/n alone with him.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows, "A witch? Really?"

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "Believe me, I was just as surprised when I first found out."

He smiled widely now, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and joy as he suddenly hugged her tightly, whispering, "Oh, y/n I am so glad you are well. I was so, so scared that none of us would ever see you again."

Her eyes closed, a smile overtaking her lips as well as she hugged him back, just as tightly "Lu, I am so glad you found me. So much is going on that I was beginning to think that I would never find a way to go back home. You being here is proof that there is a way."

They seperated but not before she felt him gently squeeze her uninjured shoulder, "Me too, y/n, me too."

She smiled at him one last time before turning to walk away, but not before saying, "They are not bad Lu, you don't need to doubt them. I started to get along with them, I am sure you will too."

Lucien looked to the wall beside her, seemingly lost in some memory as he gently smiled, "Yes, I think so too."

When morning came, she was once again making her way to the training grounds, preparing to fight some of the stress out.

Y/n was expecting to be alone, to have some peace and quiet in order to gather her thoughts and think over everything that happened in the past hours, with the breeze, birds and trees being her only companions right now.

What she was not expecting to see, was the very male who had her pressed against a wall last night, throwing punches at the air, looking as hot as ever. She would never admit it but, y/n was very glad to have this front row view at Fenrys' half naked, broad, large body, full of muscles and scars, glistening with sweat, his pants hanging loosely around his waist. The wound seemed to be almost healed as a singular bandage covered the side of his torso. His hair thrown in a messy man bun, his arms and biceps bulging as he dodged and punched and hit and moved.

She should be mad at him. He left last night after that amazing moment, leaving her frustrated both sexually and mentally. She must demand answers, why did he leave?

But looking at him now she just wanted to touch him, feel him. Why does her body react this way only and only to him? When she just sees only and only him-

Fenrys turned around, panting heavily as their eyes locked. Y/n felt all the air get knocked out of her the second those hot, frustrated, intense and dark eyes focused in on her. He took her in, starting from her eyes and slowly going down to her legs. She should turn around and leave, run away just like he did but all she could do was stand there and soak in the way his eyes roamed all over her, giving y/n the chance to also take him all in.

Then, as if nothing just happened, he turned back around and went towards the table holding a pitcher full of water.

Oh, no. He did not just ignore her. He had a lot to answer for and y/n would make sure she got them out of him right here, right now. Taking slow steps towards the other side of the ring that held weapons, y/n gave her best indifferent expression and willed her body to calm down as she kept her voice steady, her eyes trained on the array of bow and arrows, "So, you will just ignore me, Fen?"

No reply, nothing.

Very well. Her hands took a bow and began inspecting it, "Did you not like it? Personally, I loved it, Fenrys-"

"Stop lying."

Y/n picked a stack of arrows together with the bow and turned back around. He was leaning against the table, still breathing heavily as his head tilted back and he stared at the sky. Displaying that delicious throat that was so tempting, y/n just wanted to bite and kiss it nonstop.

But, her mind was somewhere else now, pondering over his words.

"What? I am not."

He just closed his eyes but said nothing.

Y/n slowly moved closer to him. "Fenrys-"

"Stop- stop it y/n, alright? What we did last night was wrong. A temptation into which we both fell, but it won't happen again."

Now, she was pissed. He was so cryptic, so hard to read. Who does he think he is? Making decisions on her behalf?

Y/n turned her back to him, finding a circular target. The bullseye, a small red circle at the center, seemed to beckon to her, challenging her to hit it dead center. Taking a deep breath, she raised the bow, feeling the tension in the bowstring as she nocked an arrow and drew it back. Her movements were smooth and practiced, the muscles in her back and shoulders tensing with controlled strength. She closed one eye, aligning the arrowhead with the bullseye. With a final exhale, she released the arrow.

The arrow struck the target with a satisfying thud, embedding itself just outside the bullseye in the second outer ring. A rush of adrenaline and frustration surged through her as she took another arrow, scoffed at not hitting the center and spoke, still not looking back at him, "You think you know it all don't you? Think you know what's best for me? Well then, you are no different than any of the males I had in my life."

And suddenly, he was right behind her, his naked chest slightly grazing her back as he gently but firmly held her arms and moved them just an inch, changing the angle as he held her other hand under his, helping her keep the arrow stable, his breath hit her ear as he whispered, "I know your friend is here. That only proves my point how sooner or later, you will go back because your life is there, not here."

And with that, he let go of her suddenly, making her release the arrow. With a satisfying thud, the arrow struck true. It buried itself deeply into the bullseye, dead center. Her eyes widened as y/n turned around to look at Fenrys but he was gone, completely disappeared and she was left all alone in the middle of the training ring.

Fenrys was feeling a mixture of emotions. Anger, frustration, confusion, and hunger. Hunger for her. Hunger because last night left him hungry for more. Fenrys thought that it was just a silly little temptation, that he just had to kiss her in order to get her out of his system, that he would be satisfied and move on once he had a taste of her.

Oh, how wrong he was. The second his lips were on hers, his hands touching her plush body, bringing her closer, Fenrys realized that she would be his doom, his undoing. She was absolutely intoxicating and he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. Now that he had a small taste of her, all he wanted to do was to keep tasting more.

But then Lysandras knock brought him back to reality as realization dawned upon him. She would be gone, she wasn't from this place, she had a real home, people concerned for her, y/n had a life.

She had a life and he would never be a part of it. She would go back to Prythian and move on, fogetting him. But he wouldn't forget her, no. How can he when she was the only being ever in existence to cause him to feel a bunch of emotions? How can he when she was the only one to ever cause him to react so much?

The appearance of that Lucien was just proof that whatever this was could not go on. Lorcan and Dorian told him about all that happened last night and Fenrys couldn't understand why his heart physically hurt at even the thought of her going back. They didn't deserve her. None of them, and especially not Azriel. Oh, how Fenrys wished to see that male atleast once so he could teach him a nice little lesson.

Well, his mood definetly did not improve when he entered the dining room to see that redhead sitting with his family, talking and laughing. He just went to his chair as Aelin kept talking, ".....I can't believe you have fire powers as well! Mine are no longer that strong but I still got a spark atleast!"

Lucien smiled as he took a bite of his meal, "Yeah well, I was born into a house full of fire magic. All my brothers have this power too. Autumn court is known for this fire."

The queen smiled even more brightly, "I want to visit that place now."

Lucien just chuckled while shaking his head slowly, "I don't think you would like it as long as my monster of a father is its high lord."

"Believe me, we have met our own fair share of monsters." Dorian said, his eyes looking at everyone in the room knowingly.

"Oh, Beron is a self-centered viper. Lu, when will Eris finally take over?"

That voice. That melodic, hypnotizing voice. He saw from his peripheral view how y/n entered the room and completely went past the empty seat next to him, choosing to sit right fucking beside Lucien.

Don't react. This is what you wanted right? The further she is from you, the better.

Lucien's eyes widened slightly as he chuckled, "You like Eris? I thought everyone from Rhysands circle hated him"

Y/n shrugged while cutting up her meal, "Yeah well, I don't. Why should I?"

Lucien smiled softly now, "Me neither."

Rowan raised an eyebrow, "Something we should know? Is Eris also going to make a surprise appearance?"

Lucien shook his head slightly, "No, my brother has bigger things to deal with right now."

"Bigger than the valg?" that question came from Lorcan as he just stared at the prince, his gaze indifferent.

"Well, as I said earlier, our world never had such things as Valg-"

"They explained you everything?" y/n's voice made Fenrys clench his fork as he just kept looking at Lucien and not the female right beside him.

He noddded his head, "Yes, they told me everything and now I know why the book is so important."

Y/n was about to say something when a roar interrupted her. Petrah quickly got up from her seat, "Seems like Luna isn't tired after our morning ride. I will go check on her."

"What is that?" Lucien's question made Manon chuckle and Petrah raise an eyebrow as the former replied, "A wyvern. Ever seen one?"

Lucien's brows furrowed even further, "No, what-"

Another rumble. Petrah just smirked at him as she said while walking towards the door, "Come along, prince, I'll show you."

Fenrys caught how Lucien's gaze seemed to change the second he looked at the witch. How his pupils slightly dilated and his eyes just took her in. He knows how it feels because he experiences the same thing whenever he looks at y/n.

Lucien was clearly in another world as he just stared at the witch because the second y/n gently nudged him, he shook his head slightly, as if coming back to reality, and got up to follow Petrah.

Well, seems like someone has got a crush. Wait. Does that mean Fenrys also has a crush? No. Impossible. He just kept on eating his food as his family continued their conversation. Throughout the whole meal, he tried his hardest not to glance at her, not even once.

He didn't look at her. Not even once. Usually, y/n would feel whenever his eyes were on her, watching her. But this morning, he didn't even glance at her. This wasn't her plan. When y/n entered the room, she purposefully avoided his gaze and sitting next to him, instead choosing to sit beside Lucien.

"And yet, he didn't even react. Honestly, I don't understand him, what do you think I should do?"

Abraxos just let out a low, sleepy rumble from his place on the flower field.

Y/n just laughed, tilting her body back until she was sitting against the beasts large body.

"Thanks for the advice, friend."

Abraxos lifted his wing and gently draped it over her, causing y/n to smile while caressing it.

"I see you two seem to be enjoying your time."

Rowan's voice caught her attention as y/n lifted her head up to look at the silver haired prince coming her way.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise. Don't you have princely duties to do?"

He chuckled as he sat down on a small boulder across from her.

"I went out into the border earlier in the morning, and guess what? Eva's assumption was true, the wards around this place are ten times weaker than before. They have definetly been broken through."

Y/n sighed, "And what do we do now?"

The male just shrugged and looked down at his hands that were on his knees, "We wait. Yrene is hard at work on something that she won't tell anyone, not even Chaol, so it seems like whatever she is doing, is big."

She nodded her head, wordlessly and thought that he would leave after that but instead, Rowan said, "I heard you, you know."

"Don't tell me you heard everything..."

Rowan chuckled "Well, maybe not everything but enough to know that something is happening between you and Fenrys."

Y/n scoffed, "Nothing is happening between us. Atleast not anymore."

Rowan smiled slightly before turning his head to his left, looking at the fields beyond.

"You know, Aelin and I despised each other at first."

Y/n's eyes widened, "What?! impossible! you two seem so in love now."

"Now, yes. Before? Oh before all I wanted was to slit her throat. I actually punched her when we first met."

She couldn't hide the disbelieving laugh that left her throat, "W-what?!"

He turned his head back to her and laughed as well, "Yes! I thought that she was a spoiled, self-centered brat. That she had no idea about the reality of the world and wasn't ready to be queen."

He sighed and looked at the wyvern, a sad smile on his face, "We fought a lot at first, I insulted her and she insulted me back, she was fire in every sense of the word and I used to be afraid of getting burned by it, I was avoiding it. But then, after seeing her scars, both visible and invisible, I started to sympathise with her and eventually, I let myself get enveloped by her fire."

Before y/n could say anything he got up and went to caress Abraxos, his voice a quiet melody now, "I thought I had a mate, her name was Lyria and I had met her in a market. She was very beautiful, and I remember feeling this tug towards her from that very first day. Long story short, we mated and she got pregnant. But, while I was away, she and our unborn child were both murdered. I came home to find her mutilated body lying in her own cold blood. I had this tattoo done in order to carry the shame of not being able to protect my mate for eternity. It details our story, from the time I saw her to the day I came to find her dead, cold body on the floor."

She gasped, her hand coming to cover her mouth, "Rowan, I- I don't even know what to say. I am so sorry, and not to be rude but.....isn't- I thought Aelin was your mate."

He just kept on caressing the wyvern, not looking at her, "Turns out, Maeve led me to believe that Lyria was my mate and then, had her killed. Aelin was my true mate, and Maeve knew it, she just had this twisted, forged plan to use me for her advantage. To also break Aelin."

Y/n whispered, her eyes on the flowers, "And did she...break?"

Rowan looked at her, a small smile overtaking his face, "You will have to ask that from her."

And with that, he turned his back towards her, and started walking back to the palace. She called after him, "Why did you tell me all this?"

He didn't turn back. Rowan just kept walking but she heard him say, "So that you can make sense of your own destiny, of where your purpose lies."

Before she could question him, she saw Luna land on the ground and Petrah come down from her back, followed by Lucien and....and a struggling man that was tied up in ropes.

Y/n jumped to her feet, running towards them as Lucien came forward with the prisoner tightly held in his grip, Petrah right behind him.

"What is going on?!"

Petrah and Lucien moved past her quickly, the former saying over her shoulder, "He is a valg! Luna scented him walking right through the busy markets. Where is Aelin?!"

Y/n took large strides to catch up to them, speaking as they quickly walked towards the palace, "I don't know! Lets take him to the torture room. They have one here, right?!"

Petrah firmly nodded her head as they both followed Lucien. Once inside the halls, they found Rowan, who was making his way up the stairs, and took the captive towards the chambers below.

Fifteen minutes later, Lorcan, Manon and Fenrys joined them as they all watched the valg infested person struggle and scream against his chains, both visible and invisible, thanks to Rowan's powers.

Petrah was the first one to speak, her eyes assesing the captive before them, "He won't break unless we make him. The witch back in our kingdom hasn't broken yet either, despite all the torture we have put her through."

Manon interfered, "That is a willing ally to them, this person has been infested by one of them against his will."

Petrah nodded her head at her queen, "Exactly, so it will be easier to get him to talk."

Fenrys shook his head, his arms crossed, "We have to get Yrene."

Rowan looked at his friend, "And drain her even more? She is already using too much of her powers, Chaol is in a wheelchair. Besides, once she gets the valg out of these people, they seem to forget everything. We need him just like this to get him to talk."

"I won't talk! I won't talk! I won't-"

"Oh, you will, and you will tell us every single little thing, you little demon." Rowan's voice was unrecognizable as he stood right in front of the man and looked down at him.

The poor man was laughing like a maniac now, he laughed and laughed until his eyes landed on her and he stopped. He stared and stared before his mouth tilted downwards and his light brown eyes somehow became black. Now, he was shouting at her, "You whore! We are coming for you! We are coming for you and we will end you just like we ended your mudslug of a father!"

Y/n's anger began rising, causing her to clench her fists in order to stop her iron claws from appearing. She took slow steps towards the man, recognizing that it was the valg inside him talking this way and not him.

"Listen to me and listen well, you parasite. I know what you did to my father and mother, what you did to my family. Do not think for one minute that I will forget it. No, I will find you all and once I do, none of you will be able to escape me. I will spend the rest of my immortal years going from world to world in order to completely cut your roots if I need to. You have said it yourself, I am the chosen one, the one who carries my mother's gifts inside me. So it's time I use these gifts and destroy you once and for all."

There was complete silence in the room, all eyes on her as the man shouted back, "You won't find us! We are hidden well!"

Well, it's time to use some psychological mind tricks then.

Y/n smirked as she leaned down, coming face to face with him, "Oh, I know where you are. In fact, I have completely sketched out a map of your whole location, both inside and outside."

The man's eyes widened, "No.....no the prince....he survived! It was him!"

Time to lead him on to get answers without making it obvious.

"Yes, the prince who survived was spotted in the city. He thinks he has good cover but he is wrong, oh he is so wrong."

The valg seemed to believe her as he started saying, "He did it! He did it! Do not bring the healer!"

"What did he do?"

"After the war was over, he....he survived! he survived Erawan and found us, other survivors as well! He is gathering all of us now, we will attack once we are large enough in numbers!"

"How did he survive? Aren't you all connected to Erawan? And where are you all located in?" Lorcan's voice came from behind her.

The valg however, didn't seem to be listening to him, violently shaking his head, shouting, "He survived! He is coming! You will die!"

And before any of them could react, the man went limp. Y/n quickly checked his neck, hoping to feel a heartbeat but, nothing. He was dead.

Y/n sighed as Manon said, "Well, atleast now we know that not all the valgs died."

Fenrys was the first one to leave, turning abruptly and exiting without a word to anyone, and without looking at her.

Rowan turned towards the door, "I will need to inform Aelin about this, Lorcan, inform the others."

Lorcan nodded as he followed the prince while Manon patted y/n on the shoulder, whispering a 'good job' and quickly left the room with Petrah who turned just once to look over her shoulder not at y/n or the dead man in the center of the room, but at Lucien who was just staring at his lifeless body.

Once they were gone, y/n put her hand on his shoulder and turned him towards her, "Lu, are you well?"

He looked at her, his mechanical eye just as wide as his other eye. "Y/n, let's....let's leave."

She nodded, silently leading the way out of the room.

Once they were out in the hall, she tried to ease the tension by nudging him with her shoulder, her tone turning playful as y/n gave him a smirk "So, what was that about?"

Lucien's brows furrowed as he turned to look at her while they kept walking, "What's what about?"

"You riding a wyvern with Petrah."

Lucien chuckled, "It's nothing, I was shocked when I saw that thing and then Petrah asked me if I wanted to join her for a ride and I....I got curious, I mean, we will leave this place at some point and Prythian doesn't have such adorable beasts so when am I ever gonna ride something like that again?"

Right, they will leave at some point.

She gave him a small smile, "Yeah....how- how is everything between you and Elain?"

Lucien's eyes dimmed as his smile turned serious "Just like how it was before you left. She still hasn't accepted me."

"Are you serious?! It's already been what? three years? I mean, if she doesn't want to have a mate, if she wants to reject the bond, then she has to say so. But for her to just keep on ignoring you without any words is pissing me off. Once we get back, I will have a word with her before I leave-"

"Alright, alright stop there for a moment" Lucien held both of his hands up to her as they both halted.

"Two things. First, don't tell her anything because I have dealt with her. I rejected our bond, and guess what? I was expecting some kind of pain or I don't know...an uncomfortable feel in my chest because after all, it's a bond that's breaking but....nothing. I felt absolutely nothing for rejecting her."

Y/n's eyes widened, "So, do you think my theory is right? That The Cauldron made a mistake when it mated you to her? That it was a momentary slip up? That there was no bond to begin with?"

Lucien shrugged, "Maybe. I don't really care but I do feel much more freer than I did when I felt like I had to put effort into making her like me."

When y/n opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand, silencing her, "Now, second thing. What in The Mother's name do you mean by saying 'before I leave'? What happened?"

Yn sighed and turned to walk, Lucien quickly catching up with her, "Lu, Azriel has a mate."

Lucien stopped again, his eyebrows hit his hairline, "What?! Excuse me?! Please tell me it's you."

Y/n chuckled but kept walking, "Do you remember Gwyn? Turns out they were together for the past two years and the worst part is that.....that everyone in the inner circle knew except for me. They knew, Lu! They all knew and none of them thought of telling me! Instead they preferred to watch me suffer!"

Lucien grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her to look at him, "Y/n, but....but you seemed so well whenever I would come? Like, like you would be so happy and cheerful and your outgoing self? I never....I never even noticed. Oh Cauldron boil me-"

Y/n gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "Lu, please don't blame yourself. You are the only one who ever saw me for me. You would only stay there for a week, sometimes even less and you would be so stressed with your whole thing with Elain and whatever new information you would bring about Koschei and whatever else so obviously I wouldn't show it to you. But they.....they were there all the time. Mor had walked hundreds of times on me having a panick attack and did nothing. So I obviously do not plan on staying there anymore."

Lucien closed his eyes as his head tilted downwards, "I am so sorry, y/n. Once we are back, you know you will always have a place with me, Jurian and Vassa. If you want."

Y/n gave him a small but genuine smile as they slowly resumed their walking, "I know, Lu. And I am beyond grateful."

It was starting again. His nightmares were on him again. They stopped for one night and one night only. The night where y/n slept with him, the night that she was in his arms.

But now, now they were back. His nightmares would usually differ, never repeating the same memory twice, but instead showing another trauma each night.

Tonight, it was one of his memories with Maeve. It was the night she raped him countless times before ordering him to sleep naked right outside her door. It was a punishment for disobeying her orders. Because he healed Connall when he got injured severely while getting beaten up by one of her obedient little followers. Because Connall had disobeyed her too and done something. Something he refused to tell Fenrys. She wanted him to bleed and be on the verge of death as punishment. But, how could Fenrys just sit by and watch his own brother wither away?

She raped him. She put her disgusting hands on him knowing how much he hated it and got her way with him. He hated himself after that. But, what's the point now? Connall is dead anyway. You failed him, Fenrys. You failed your own brother. You are nothing-

"Fen, are you well?"

Her angelic voice soothed his growing demons, calmed his growing nightmares.

Fenrys turned his head to see y/n standing right beside his sitting form, in front of the large window they have in the hall between their rooms. She was wearing silk pants and a long sleeve, loose shirt. Both in white. Her adorable face held a mixture of concern and curiosity as she looked down on him.

And that nickname she gave him. That fucking nickname that only she is allowed to call him. No one else.

He sighed and turned his head back towards the large window, looking at the moonless night in front of him, "No, y/n. I am not well."

He felt her sit beside him and turn her head to look at his side profile. Her soft, soothing voice reached his ears even better when she was this up and close to him, "Do you....do you want to talk about it?"

For some reason, he did. For some reason, his chest tightened and he felt this need to, for the first time, open up and talk about his own troubles to someone.

So, with a small nod, he began. He told her of his childhood with Connall, of how they never knew their parents, of how they always only ever had each other. He talked about his blood oath to Maeve, he told her just a few of the tortures she put him and his brother through. Just a few of the things she made him do to innocents. The guilt, the shame that was eating away at him. The war and what happened during it. Connall's death. And lastly, the fact that it has been three years and he still can't move on, can't forget.

Once he was done, he turned his face to look at her, seeing her eyes shining with unshed tears. "So, y/n. You now saw the real me. My ugly truth that I hide inside me. It's best if you just run away now."

She slowly shook her head and put a gentle palm against his cheek.

Then, she said the sentence that shook his world.

"Don't do that. I am not scared of any part of you, Fen. How can I when I am just as scarred as you are? How can I, when I know the pain of such things? You showed me a raw part of yours, and for that, I am so grateful. I will cherish it forever. I care for all of you, both your beautiful and not so beautiful parts."

Fenrys had never felt this vulnerable yet safe in his life. The truth in her words as she looked at him with nothing but pure care and sympathy made him feel not weak or pitied but....safe, understood. He wanted to ask her about her story but from the look in her eyes, she wouldn't tell. He knew she wouldn't. This was supposed to be about him.

That care increased his heart rate even further. Caused him to feel things he never did.

He may regret this tomorrow, may go back to blaming himself again, but, he couldn't care any less right now.

Slowly, just an inch, he leaned closer to her and whispered, "Ask me to kiss you again."

Her eyes widened slightly as her plush lips parted.

But she did. She whispered, "Kiss me, Fenrys."

And with that, he closed his eyes and kissed her. He smashed their lips together as her arms went to his hair, holding him close, as she leaned back on the ground, bringing him with her, placing him completely between her parted legs.

He kissed her with a mixture of emotions. He kissed her hard but also soft, gently but also firmly, quickly but also slowly, messily but also lovingly. She kissed him back with the same amount of ferocity.

Then, his kisses moved to her jaw and then her neck. He kissed her slowly over where her injury once was and then, as he looked back her, for permission to take off her shirt, she slowly shook her head, no.

It was complete and utter darkness here anyway. The stars barely illuminated anything. But, she still didn't want him to take off her shirt. He would respect that either way. He kissed her over her clothing as he moved down, over her stomach and stopped just above her pants, once again looking back at her.

She hesitated again. Closing her eyes and then opening them again to look towards the window. Then, as if she understood that he can't see her body properly, nodded at him slowly.

There was definetly something. Something she wasn't telling him. But, it's alright. He would ask her at some point and hope that she would share it with him.

Fenrys slowly took ahold of the top of her pants and pulled them down. He pulled them down and off completely, before lying on his stomach and gently touching her ankles, her legs and then, her thighs.

He felt a couple of bumps along her skin but assumed they were probably injuries she got during fights or during the war. After all, what kind of a warrior doesn't have scars or wounds?

Her skin was still so soft though. So soft and creamy, he just wanted to keep touching her. He brought his face closer to her inner thighs, kissing them gently as he heard her take in a sharp breath. Her arousal, her sweet and perfect arousal, was hitting his nose as he came closer towards her core. Only a thin piece of fabric was stopping him now.

Fenrys once again lifted his head towards her, so that she could see him in the dark looking at her, questioning her, making sure.

He saw her give a slight nod of her head and that was all that he needed.

Fenrys brought his face back to her core as his hunger for her began taking over. As his thirst for her began taking over. He gave her a nice, long and torturously slow lick over her panties, causing a melodic moan to escape her.

Gods, she was perfect. Fenrys felt his own cock throbbing in his loose pants, but that could wait.

She whispered, "Please...."

Without waiting any longer or making this torturous for either of them, Fenrys quickly ripped apart her panties, causing a gasp to come out of her and then.....dear Gods.......her perfect, dripping cunt was right in front of him. Her arousal fully hitting his nose, taking over all of his sense, leaving only one thing behind: Greed. Greed to devpur her whole and leave nothing for anyone else. Greed to mark her up completely.

With a growl, he lifted a finger and gently touched her, smearing her arousal all over her lips. Y/n lifted her hips involuntarily, another string of 'please' falling off her kissable lips.

Fenrys let out an involuntary moan, "You are so perfect, princess."

And that was it, that was all he said before diving in. That was all he said before he began feasting on her like a madman. He ate her out as if he was dying and she was his only cure, like she was the only meal left in this world and he was a starving male.

He ate her out like she was fucking made for him.

With each lick, with each bite, his hunger for her only grew stronger, insatiable. Her moans and gasps too, grew louder, so much so that he had to snake a hand up, past her breasts and her neck, to cover her mouth.

His own throbbing, hard cock was killing him too. So, while he was feasting on his beautiful witch, Fenrys started humping the ground, searching for some relief too. This caused him to moan right into her pussy, making her back stretch out even more, her hands coming to grab and mess up his hair as she bit his hand.

Fenrys added his fingers, stimulating her with both his tounge and fingers and as he felt her warm walls begin to clench uncontrollably around him, he knew she was close. He was getting close too and that was a shock to him. Fenrys had never been on the verge of cumming this quick before. No one had ever made him this pent up and feral that he reached his edge this quick.

She was the first. His annoying, ferocious, angry little witchling was the first to ever make him cum this fast.

And all it took were a few more licks, bites, thrusts and she was gone. Y/n moaned deep and hard as she came all over his tounge and lower face. And he licked it all up. Fenrys drank every single drop of her sweet nectar, savouring its addicting taste. And as if on cue, he himself came inside his pants while he was still licking her up.

And through it all, his eyes never left hers. Even if it was dark, even if they couldn't clearly see one another, Fenrys kept his eyes on her face, knowing that she felt his eyes on her too.

Once he was finished, he sat up, gently putting her pants back on and pocketing her ripped underwear for....later.

He saw y/n's frame slowly sit up as well as he came closer to her, gently helping her up to her feet before asking, "I hope I didn't hurt you."

He felt her smile and cursed the darkness for keeping that beautiful view away from his eyes. She came closer and put her hands behind his neck, her breasts pressing to his naked chest, causing him to feel her nipples right against him. He barely held back a groan.

She got on her toes as Fenrys held her waist to keep her stable while she gently kissed him on the cheek and whispered, her voice hoarse and so damn sexy, "I had never cum so hard before, Fen. It was amazing. Thank you."

Fuck. He was absolutely doomed.

When she tried to move away, his arms closed completely around her, pressing her to him as his one arm lifted, his hand going to hold her behind her neck as he smashed their lips together once more.

He let her taste herself on his tounge as he kissed her with so much pent up lust and hunger, for her. Only and only for her.

Once he pulled back, he felt her heavy breaths as she whispered "Fenrys-"

"With every breath I take, Y/n," he whispered fervently, his voice a steady promise that caused her body to tremble slightly, "I'll stand by your side, shielding your light from any darkness that dares to fucking approach. You will ignite the world, and I will ensure it never dims. I swear it."

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[killsatoru]

Part One : Mistakes With Rings : Gojo Satoru

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x fem! reader

Warning(s) : Cursing, reader is a Itadori

Summary : Thrown into a loveless marriage, but what happens when your husband asks you for an open marriage?

-

“Let’s have an open marriage.”

Those words were enough to crumble the bricks we have built, though maybe those bricks were just me.

he didn’t bother to add the paste between to keep the wall together.

he created his own leaving me to finish ours myself.

I let out a shaky breath. one i didn’t realize i was holding, his icy blue eyes looking into mine. demanding for me to free him from the shackles of our loveless marriage.

“Okay, if that is what you want.”

Was I really allowed to say no? We were both thrown into this marriage because of our parents, there was no love involved, no relationship, no connection, no butterflies, heart eyes, honeymoon phase, sparks.

nothing.

absolutely nothing.

-

We were friends back when we were young.

a little boy that with a snap of his finger had everyone to their knees, singing him praises, wrapped gifts with luxurious items, that he would sigh and throw them to the side not taking into account their value.

Spoiled to the very core.

little Gojo Satoru has never heard the word “No” from anyone else but himself.

except from me

“You’ll marry me eventually” face covered in cake, one that he had requested

“No I won’t. I don't plan on getting married.” a frown playing on my childish features

“why not? you’ll die all alone!” Stuffing more cake into his face, hopefully he brushes his teeth.

“So be it, I prefer that rather than a loveless marriage.”

At such a young age I wasn't meant to already have those negative views on marriage. but when it came to him. I would have those ill feelings towards marriage.

To think it is now a nightmare i have to wake up to everyday.

-

“Y/N Itadori, you are to marry Gojo Satoru.” A stern voice echoes through the walls. leaving no space to deny the demand that was just told.

leaving the room, with a heavy weight on my shoulder. please let this be a nightmare I wince, ‘where did I go wrong?’ tears threatening to spill out, those same words juggling through my head…

“Y/N! Are you alright? what did they say?”

Looking up to see my brother Jin, only 2 years older than me looking at me with confusion and concern.

“I’m getting married…”

-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

The room was spinning. The man that I have done everything in my power to avoid ever wearing the same ring. To avoid a marriage that only benefited others, to avoid this twisted joke that whoever was above played on me, to avoid ever being in a loveless marriage.

he inched closer. His scent is so strong, so unbearable. He's hesitating.

‘Just get it over with’

Pulling him closer catching him off guard. Sealing our lips in a kiss.

-

A honeymoon should never feel this empty.

To avoid being stuck in the same room as him, I took a long stroll through the beach, the soft waves soothing me into my memories.

memories flooding in of when we were 15.

-

“GOJO SATORU! I'M GOING TO WRANGLE YOUR NECK!”

“HELP GUYS! SHE'S INSANE!”

Laughing

Watching from the table Gojo’s and Utahime’s banter

“So Y/N~ got anyone you like!” Shoko wiggles her eyebrows at me

giggling “Nah you know i have no plans of that anytime soon.”

“you let out a cute giggle though there must be someone~” poking my cheek now

“leave her alone Shoko, it’s probably Satoru~”

“You two are seriously impossible”

“Come onnnn~ you can tell ussss~” both giving me puppy dog eyes

“No. I don’t. And no I won't.”

“Y/N PLEASE SAVE ME PLEASE!”

jumping towards me hugging me tightly, a light blush coating my cheeks

“GOJO!! LET GO OF Y/N!”

“NO! Y/N PLEASE DON'T LET ME GO!”

hugging him back, smiling warmly at him.

psh he wishes pushing him towards Utahime

“he’s all yours Utahime!”

“Y/NNN HOW COULDDD YOUUUU WE’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO HAVE KIDSSS SHES GONNA CUT MY BALLLLLLS!”

“He’s seriously delusional.” Dusting off where he was just squeezing me

“You saw that right, Shoko?”

“Sure did!”

now smiling wickedly at me

“You sooooo like him~”

“I can never win, can i.”

-

I have always liked him. but it was one sided i could never truly admit it.

I pushed those feelings away, labeling them puppy love. nothing more. nothing less.

being brought back to reality. The cold beach air was biting at my skin causing my hairs to stand up, and also the thought of sharing the same room and bed with him.

-

“I got myself another room. we don’t have to share”

“Sure. Goodnight Gojo.”

This marriage is gonna go to shit.

Slipping into the cold covers. Honeymoons were meant to be filled with love and passion. A celebration of becoming one.

This was just the beginning.

This is another concept that was brewing up for a little while! Honestly not super proud of my writing for this one but it’s a little more thoughtout unlike Indigo. Thank you guys for reading!

[lalovi]

Oh, I have an idea for the Shadow Milk cookie And you can add yandere and Hypnotism. Please and then I liked it.

Please Here the plot:

A Shadow Milk cookie comes out of the tree. And Pure Vanilla Cookie and friends, including T/N Cookie. Shadow Milk cookie watched everyone, but he saw you and watched you for so long that he wanted to make you his. After that, Pure Vanilla Cookie and friends, and you They ran away, and you ran away in the other direction. After that, she found herself in a beautiful forest, vwhere there are beautiful flowers. T/N Cookie didn't know how it got here, maybe it's lies Shadow Milk cookie, no?

After that, she took a book about the plant and read, soon she read it and saw some kind of apple tree, but the apples were blue. She decided to look in a book about blue apples, but it didn't say. She decides to come closer to see it, but a Shadow Milk cookie appears and offers to eat this fruit, but she refuses to do so, then Shadow Milk cookie uses hypnosis to get her to eat this fruit. Then she eats this fruit and she doesn't feel well, eyes T/N Cookie After that, her heart turns blue and His eyes were blue. Shadow Milk cookie picked it up and decided to make it his own.

AN: MY FRIENDS ARE YELLING IN THE VC AND I CAN'T FOCUS.

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Yandere, hypnotism

-At Last-

"Ah! Doesn't this air just feel... divine?"

Shadow Milk had just broken out of the seal and was staring everybody down... until he locked eyes with you.

As you'd gaze into his now hazy eyes, you could see a crazed smile appeared on his face. His entire mind was clouded with thoughts of you and only you. Your eyes, your body, you soul, everything.

"Oh, has my little doll come to visit me~?" Shadow Milk Cookie would move behind you, snaking a hand around your waist.

"What- no get off of me!" You push him off of you, and you can see a glint of frustration appear in his eyes.

Then, he'd smile. His maniac laughter began to fill the scene, sending a chill down your spine.

"Everyone, it would be best if we retreated for now!" Pure Vanilla called out.

The others would nod and quickly fled from the scene, including you.

Everything was so hectic. Walls would start to crumble and screams of terror filled the kingdom.

Eventually, you'd find yourself in a forest, far away from everyone. You must have gotten separated in the chaos.

A panic soon set in and you'd look around desperately for an exit, but the more you'd look around, the more you could admire your surroundings.

It was a beautiful forest. Flowers of all kinds would surround you, and the moonlight peaked through the leafy canopies above.

It was so... mesmerizing. A wave of calm washed over you and you sat down near a bed of flowers.

Something about this forest just pulled you in. It was so peaceful... maybe a bit too peaceful.

For just a fleeting moment... you wondered if it was all a lie. It all seemed too good to be true. Maybe Shadow Milk had set this all up to catch you off guard.

Then you saw something peculiar in the distance.

It seemed to be an ordinary tree bearing fruits. It would stand in solitude in the center of an opening, and the moon seemed to highlight it's every feature.

The fruits in question were apples; blue apples. You had never seen anything quite like it. It got you curious, so you took out an old book about a variety of plants. You searched and you searched, but there was nothing on this strange flora in front of you.

Working up some confidence, you'd step closer to the tree.

You just gazed absent mindedly at the strange fruit until shadows around you began to warp.

From them appeared a familiar face:

Shadow Milk Cookie.

"It's so good to see you again, my love!" He'd say while happily twirling you around.

He'd only stop to see exactly what you had been looking at prior to his appearance.

"Oh, so you found this old thing?" He picked one of the apples from the tree and held it out to you. "It's a beauty, right? Why don't you try one?" He continued to smile, holding out the blue apple.

"No way, I'm not eating that," You'd say, pushing the fruit back towards him. A scowl appeared on your face as you continued to glare at Shadow Milk.

"But doll.." He'd get closer to you, grabbing your chin with one of his hands and forcing you to look upon him.

"You really should eat it."

You'd continue to gaze into his eyes, which you swore got just a little bit brighter.

The world around you all became a blur. All sounds, except the beating of your own heart, had been muted.

The ground beneath your feet didn't feel solid anymore. You felt as if you could fall at any second, yet you felt so chained down at the same time.

Shadow Milk would gently trace your face with his finger, still holding out the apple, though slowly proding it closer and closer to you.

Every one of your senses where focused solely on the apple, and you'd mindlessly take hold of it.

Without even realizing, you had taken a bite of it before quickly dropping it and coming to your senses.

The damage had already been done though. The world was still a blur, but instead of focusing on the apple, your mind had become clouded with thoughts of him.

"Aww look at you~ I always knew blue suited you best, my little doll! Now we match."

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and your whole world felt as if it were spiraling.

Shadow Milk would admire this fragile being, gently tracing a finger over every one of thier features. He had waited for so long to claim ownership of what he had rightfully declared his, and now he has finally done it.

Even if they'd sway, it was only because they had not yet become used to the side effects. Carefully, Shadow Milk Cookie would take them in his arms and carry them away to some secluded corner of the world.

He just couldn't risk anybody else seeing you! And it's not like you needed to see anyone else either. Your heart belonged to him now. It beat to keep you alive just as it beat to keep him alive.

He was never going to let you leave, since what Shadow Milk Cookie wants, Shadow Milk Cookie gets.

[jellycreamjammedart]

I have such a brainrot idea of post-betrayal Cassie teaming up with Roxy to help get her out but with the elevator destroyed they have to take the long way back, aka going through the entire PizzaPlex again. Roxy is determined to get Cassie out no matter how hard it is but Cassie decides she has a lot more to do down there in the meanwhile.

First thing turning M.X.E.S security back on but it's very weak and vulnerable without the security nodes. The Mimic is down there somewhere still but it certainly will try to follow and escape once it's no longer stunned. So Cassie offers M.X.E.S her vanni mask as a first initial node (with M.X.E.S and Helpi instructing her how to do so,) so that the security bunny has some grounding to start on. This allows both Helpi and M.X.E.S to talk to Cassie through the mask's implant.

So on the long way back Cassie tries reactivating the parent nodes and child nodes.

Since she gets on better terms with M.X.E.S it no longer tries to get her killed, meaning most past threats aren't gonna be prone to attack her... but thats not enough for Cassie.

She goes out of the way to help those broken, confused things seemingly tortured beyond repair. She tries to save every thing stuck down there with her. She clings to the idea and need to there being some meaning in a little compassion in such cruel, twisted world.

Getting her hands dirty pulling trash and rotten food out of Chica's body to disobstruct these nasty things from her endo ontop of returning her voice.

Getting her hands scratched up trying to reboot Monty after draining the water he was electrified in.

Getting her hands sore trying to pull out every sharp metal seen impaling into Prototype Glamrock Freddy.

They join Cassie along with roxy.

Reactivating the mini Music Men, they help her through too vertical vents. Reactivating the wet floor bots.

Basically undo everything the Mimic tricked her into doing, with an additional offer of bits of kindness. It was her kind heart that led her down. It can lead her back up. And she's taking everyone up with her.

Trying to patch and fix Bonnie up. Recruiting the Daycare Attendant so they're not doomed to an empty lonely daycare.

Cassie tries to make everything better for everybody. By god does she wish she had the power to just fix literally everything! But she can't... so she sets on her heels and tries to fix whatever she *can* fix.

By the time they make their way back to the lobby where this nightmare and deception started, Cassie has gathered a large group of unlikely friends. They're finally here! They finally can leave. See the sun. Be free! Be happy again!

As beautiful of a sentiment that is... it's not that simple.

They can't all just leave; they need to stay to help M.X.E.S keep the Mimic sealed away. They're guardians as much as M.X.E.S is. And if a similar crisis happens again, M.X.E.S needs guardians to send distress signals to to come and help. It can't guard the place alone.

Cassie can leave though. She earned it. She deserves her happy ending. She did enough- no she did more than enough. She did more than many ever did.

But if it's her happy ending, then why does she feel her heart breaking? Why does it feel so unfair? Looking at those disfigured broken faces (or lack thereof, in the case of Prototype Glamrock Freddy,) she can see real friends there, despite everything they've gone through. Real friends that would show up to her birthday party in a heartbeat, she knows. Real friends that wouldn't leave her behind. She's never had such friends before in her life!

And now she's the one who has to leave them behind?

This feels awful. She feels awful. It doesn't feel like a happy ending at all. All she can bring herself to do is cry her heart out while hugging and clinging to those metal monsters.

But it's necessary, as painful as it is to part ways. It's the right thing. They have a very important mission in there, and Cassie has a whole life ahead of her-- she shouldn't stay really, there's no proper or safe food for her down there. And this is no place for a child, this is no longer the fun Freddy Fazbear's Mega PizzaPlex where people come to play, eat and watch the Glamrock band. Those are times long passed, long gone, and forgotten by most.

Besides, she can leave with her vanni mask, the first and now last node. Even if history repeats itself, there would always be one node left. It's a perfect safety plan.

Or... Cassie can choose to stay a little longer, if to check if there's anything else she can do... such as unlocking that mysterious scooper room... it sure is scary, the thought of getting down there again. But with those new friends by her side rather than trying to stop her, the trip back down is quite easier, if still rather dangerous due to the place's hazardous condition. But she will not fail this time. She's determined not to.

Maybe then, she can make everything right again, for them all, after all.

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (2)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!

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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.

“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”

I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.

Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.

The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.

This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.

“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”

I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”

He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”

That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.

“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”

That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.

It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.

I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.

I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.

Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.

The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.

“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”

Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.

“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”

I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”

In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.

I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.

“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”

I could physically feel the mood lighten.

“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”

“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”

Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."

“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.

“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.

“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.

“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.

“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.

“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”

As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.

“Damn, these are nice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.

“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”

“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”

Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.

I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.

He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.

Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.

Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.

“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”

I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”

Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.

“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."

I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”

The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.

“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.

I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.

Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.

“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.

The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.

“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”

I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”

Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.

“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”

Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.

“What time are we getting your car?”

I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.

“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.

“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”

This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.

“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”

“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.

Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.

“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”

I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”

With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”

Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.

“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.

“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”

Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”

Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.

“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”

Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.

“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”

He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”

I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.

“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.

I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”

He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”

“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”

Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”

No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.

I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”

“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”

As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.

We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.

“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”

I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.

“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”

The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.

“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”

I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.

“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”

I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.

“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”

Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.

“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”

I shook my head, “What about you?”

He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.

“I’ll be alright.”

I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.

“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”

I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”

Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”

I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.

“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.

“I’m getting there,” I replied.

Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.

“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.

“You can leave,” I told him.

“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.

The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.

The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.

I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.

As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.

Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.

“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”

“Who?” I was even more confused.

“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."

Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”

Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.

“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.

“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”

I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?

“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”

Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.

“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”

“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”

Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.

“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”

“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”

James laughed, “I will remember that.”

The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.

“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”

Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.

I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.

“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”

A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.

“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”

I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.

“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.

“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.

There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.

The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.

The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.

“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”

She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”

Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.

Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?

During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.

I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.

The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.

Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.

The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.

It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.

The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.

In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.

I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.

Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”

I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”

She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”

“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”

I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.

“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”

I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.

“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”

I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.

“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.

“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”

Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.

“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”

I chuckled, “That bad?”

Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”

I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”

She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”

We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.

“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”

“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”

Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”

After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.

Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.

I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.

It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.

“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”

Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.

“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.

“Sleep okay?”

I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”

He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.

“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”

I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”

He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”

He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.

“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.

I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”

“You got it, coach.”

I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.

My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.

The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.

“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”

I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.

As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.

He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.

“Why?” He was incredulous.

“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”

He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”

I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”

“But-”

“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”

He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”

I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.

He was cute when he was mad.

“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”

Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.

“I can live with that.”

I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”

As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.

“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”

At least he was self-aware, I thought.

“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”

He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.

“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”

We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.

“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.

“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”

Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.

“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”

I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.

“Will someone else be with you?”

“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”

“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.

“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”

I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”

Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.

Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.

“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”

His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.

“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”

“Sure, coach.”

When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.

Me: I think I’m crushing on Park

Me: Help me get rid of it

The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.

Hobi: HAHAHAHA

Hobi: Sex is always the answer

Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar

I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[dontfearrr]

thank you to the angel who requested this<3 you can find it here

Request

Feast of Starlight

also this is like BARELY proofread so kindly disregard any horrible spelling mistakes🔥

Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!reader

Summary: Readers childhood best friend had now become of higher status, due to that she hadn’t spoken to him in over two thousand years. However a simple invitation may change that.

Warnings: none

Category: fluff/hurt/comfort

Word count: 3.0k

“you may absolutely not Thranduil!”

She giggled as the young boy just crossed his arms in a whine. “but i will be so very careful, come on!” he insisted in a pitiful beg. She looked at the boy and sighed heavily, he always got his way with her no matter what, he was her best friend. “curse you” she grumbled and picked up the bright red apple, placing it on the top of her head and balancing it until it stayed put. She backed up and stood as still as possible. “you mess this up and i will kill you” she pointed a stern finger at the excited boy as he quickly nocked an arrow, pointing it in her direction. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he focused on the apple and the apple only… he opened his eyes and fired immediately. The arrow pierced the apple perfectly in the middle and it landed behind her on the grass. “i told you to just trust me!” Thranduil laughed and placed his hands on his hips proudly.

That was six thousand years ago.

She was woken up from her memory by another elf, she was passed out at her station due to the lack of sleep she had gotten the other night. She lifted her head up with a slight groan and took in her surroundings, finding she was in the seamstress quarters of the east side of Mirkwood, how stupid of her, falling asleep on the job! christ she thought..

Thranduil had been on her mind as of late, why? She didn’t know, It was as if he was haunting her every living thought, which is why she hadn’t got much sleep last night. She’d spent half of the night thinking about him, wishing she could turn back time a couple thousand years and be reunited with the sweet boy she once knew.

However she couldn’t dwell on it, not right now. Elrond was expecting the garment by sundown for The Feast of Starlight tomorrow. She’s been acquainted with the King of Imladris for quite a while due to her very skilled talents with making clothing for elves. He was going to be in Mirkwood by the morning and she was nearly finished with it.

She could’ve been finished with it a while ago if it wasn’t for her stupid..nap.

Nearly two hours later and she was finished with Elronds garment. It was beautifully elegant and she was positive he would be more than pleased. She gathered everything and placed it in the cart to be taken to the royal chambers and cleaned her area up, getting ready to retire to her own chambers.

Before she could exit, she was stopped by a royal guard right outside of the exit. He handed her an envelope without saying a single word and took his leave with a bow of his head. She was heavily confused but held onto the envelope until she reached her chambers to open it.

She placed her bag on the table near her bed and sat down, taking the envelope from under her arm and inspected it. The front had a wax seal with..a royal stamp? How intriguing. She flipped it over and the back read in very neat handwriting:

“A night of starlight”

She raised and eyebrow and shrugged before opening it and pulling out the piece of paper within it, unfolding it to see it was an invitation, to the Feast of Starlight?! That couldn’t be right..until she looked in the bottom right corner, where it read her name, underlined, as if it was being emphasized. She hadn’t been to one of those in..decades. The last one she was invited to was first age, when she was nearly a child. She could only help to wonder why she had been invited considering Thranduil was the only one who issued invitations, no one entered without his knowledge.

She set the invitation down and stared at the floor, wondering what on earth would he be inviting her for. She hadn’t spoke to him since he was crowned King. Maybe this is why he had been on her mind so recently. Her head was filled with many thoughts and possibilities but she chose not to worry her mind, she was invited, and that was it. All she had to do was show up, have a drink, and leave..right?

Thranduil poured himself a hefty glass of wine as he stared out at his private garden, pinching the bridge of his nose in perplexity.

“Ada, you cannot seriously be stressed out by this?” Legolas spoke as he entered the room, feeling his father’s agony from all the way down the hall. He rid himself of his weapons, placing all of them at the table and approached Thranduil, standing by his side. “she will come.” Legolas spoke once more, watching his father’s lip twitch, unsure of what to say.

“Hina, i do not wish to hear your words of wisdom at this time” Thranduil sighed in annoyance while taking a drink of wine, a large one. Legolas raised his eyebrow at his father and shook his head. For a king, he was the most stubborn elf Legolas had ever met in his life. “Very well. Let me know when you are done..dreading.” Legolas wanted to laugh, but he’d only get a piece of his father’s mind. So he held his hands up in playful defense as Thranduil eyed him as if he was some idiot and just sighed again, facing the window as Legolas took his leave.

The next morning she woke up to the sun rudely laying across her eyes watered slightly and she sat up, walking out to the balcony to open the doors and let some fresh air inside to wake herself up. But when she did so, she looked down and saw a dark green box sitting right in front of her feet. It was wrapped with a lighter green bow and the box had beautiful details of gold and red. She picked it up curiously and went back inside to open it. She places the cloth box on her bed and opened it slowly, finding what looked to be a..dress?

She tilted her head and picked up the garment from the box and held it up by the shoulders, watching it fall to the ground from its length. She audibly gasped at the beautiful dress, it was clearly made from the finest fabrics in all of Mirkwood, finer than even the guards. She had only ever used this kind of fabric for royals..

The dress was green and embellished with beautiful designs and elven patterns in gold thread and silver linings. The Neckline was a low v neck, something she wasn’t quite used to but who was she to decline such a garment! The back of the dress mirrored the v neck shape as well and the sleeves were fanned out at the wrist, the elegantly draped down, matching the sharpness of the rest of the dress. She laid it out on her bed and admired it before taking a deep breath to process what was actually happening.

First, he invites her to The Feast of Starlight, then he sends you an outrageously gorgeous dress..She was now as nervous as ever to go to this dinner.

It was now nightfall and she was sitting in front of her mirror, running a comb through her long golden brown hair. She pulled her two pieces out in front of her ears and braided some of it back, then littered a few more throughout due to her very thick hair. She wasn’t sure why she had thicker hair than normal elves but she loved it more than anything. She stood up and stared at the dress she had laid out on her bed and sighed deeply before changing into the elegant garment.

It fit her like a glove, hugging all of her curves and falling down her body like a waterfall. She felt like a princess, maybe even a queen..She wasn’t sure why she deserved this but surely there had to have been a reason. A good one. She hoped anyways. She then picked up her circlet she’d only worn once, feeling it was quite fitting for the event. It was littered in bright diamonds that hung down into her hair beautifully and a golden band that twisted around it. It was quite simple but beautiful nonetheless. Once she had felt she was ready, she looked outside to see the moon nearly cresting and decided it was time to head for the Palace.

“I told you, red doesn’t go with green. I want GOLD. Not red.” Thranduil told the dresser that was helping him with his outfit for the night. He was getting annoyed with them for they didn’t listen what so ever. Finally the dresser came back with a green and gold garment. Not too much gold..perfect. “By Valar..now go make yourself useful somewhere else.” he dismissed the elf and he began to dress himself.

He had purposely matched his own outfit to hers, wanting to be as close as possible to her. It was also something they would do in their childhood years nearly every day. Matching their clothes was something they did for the fun of it, any day they could to show everyone they were best friends. Only this time he doesn’t intend it in a best friend manner.

Thranduil never subjected himself to such childish antics due to his old age and had grown quite cold over the years, however he felt it was necessary, even Legolas suggested it. He hated when his son was right, but if he wanted to speak to her he had to make some kind of impression for just disappearing from her life when he was crowned.

She approached the large arched doors and looked over to one of the guards, who let her in immediately, knowing who she was. She bowed her head in thanks and entered the large Palace and could hear many conversations in the distance, so she followed that.

She walked down a long hall which had her turn right and she ended up in the right area, very clearly. It was a beautiful scene, filled with many beautiful elves and willow trees hung low above the area making the place look breathtaking. The only light came from the extra bright moonlight, the full orb casting white rays upon the feast.

She walked among the elves, some of them even greeting her very kindly. A raven haired elf approached with a tray filled with golden chalices filled with wine, she took one and thanked the elf, taking a small sip. She was delighted to be welcomed so quickly, she even had a couple conversations with some. But she stuck to her mission and sought out Lord Elrond, wanting to greet him especially since you hadn’t seen him in quite a while.

She looked among a bunch of elven heads for that very specific head of dark brown hair. Her eyes scanned the room but instead, was met with a pair of piercing blue eyes she remembered all too well..Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of the tall elf. His eyes bored into her like she was his prey. She had suddenly felt out of place, she didn’t belong here! She didn’t even belong in this dress..what on earth was she even doing. She sighed and broke her gaze with the King and turned around to leave the dinner, it’s not like anyone would even notice her absence anyways, she was just the seamstress.

She placed her drink down onto a side table and turned around and began to leave, until she felt a hand on her shoulder, a very large hand. She got a whiff of a woodsy, manly scent and turned around, only to be met with the man she couldn’t erase from her mind.

She was bewildered to be stopped by him, it was the last thing she had expected. After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he went to speak.

“Mellon Nin, you look ravishing tonight.”

Thranduil spoke up first, staring down at her with his head tilted down due to her shorter height.

“Thank you, My Lord”

she couldn’t help the blush that covered her pale face and chest. She hadn’t heard Thranduil speak in nearly two thousand years, it was difficult for her to contain herself.

“Please, call me Thranduil. You are no stranger” He said gently, his voice laced with honesty and sympathy. She gave him a slight smile and nodded, letting him know she had acknowledged his request. She took this time to admire him, taking all of him in. He hadn’t really aged much since the last time she saw him but he was definitely older, sharper, and undeniably attractive. But what caught her eye was the overcoat he wore, it precisely matched her dress, the colors, the designs…was it on purpose?

“it’s been quite some time, Thranduil.” She spoke simply, a bit of hurt laced in her words, he may be the King but not in her eyes.

“it has.” he took a large breath through his nose then exhaled before speaking again, “I am pleased that you showed up. I had my doubts you weren’t going to.” He told you truthfully and reached down to take ahold of her hand, his hand dwarfing hers and placing his other hand over it, his thumb gently rubbing over her knuckles. She allowed him to and just looked up into his eyes. Trying to find some sort of emotion behind them, either he was good at hiding it, or he was truly just as cold as you thought.

“I do not know why you invite me, after two thousand years i’d think you have forgotten me.” she gently retracted her hand from his grasp after a moment and clasped them behind her back, her bottom lip quivering slightly. Thranduil faltered at this, his eyes relaxing and looking upon her as if she was a normal elleth. For the first time she actually saw emotion from him, and she was pleased to see this.

“My wrong doings have been heavy on my mind as of late. I am aware it’s been quite some time and i have no right to be putting you in such a position.“ He closed his eyes for a second before fixing his gaze back upon her and exhaling. “I cannot sleep at night knowing what i have done. The thought of you alone keeps me up, and i cannot bare it any longer.”

This made her heart ache for the man in front of her and she went to speak but couldn’t find any words. She let his words simmer first, playing them back in her head as she stared down at her feet. Finally she lifted her head and found Thranduil waiting patiently for a reply, the look of agony painted his face. He was truly in pain for what he had done to you.

“Oh Thranduil..” was all she could muster up and she placed a hand on his forearm, gently rubbing it. “I cannot blame you for doing such. I can only imagine the kind of things that were passed along to you when you were crowned. There is no need for apologies” she told him, giving his arm a small but noticeable reassuring squeeze. “you were never my king..” she then moved her hand to his cheek, gently caressing his porcelain skin, he sighed this time but in relief and endearment, leaning into her soft touch as if he had been yearning for it.

“and you were never just a seamstress..” he returned, making her smile slightly. He brings his hand up to place over hers that occupied his cheek. He took hers in his and placed a feather light kiss to her palm before placing it back to his cheek, closing his eyes to bask in her presence. “It’s always been you Thranduil. From the day i met you all the way until now. No matter what happened, you kept me going.” Her hand slid from his cheek to his chest, resting in the center of his broad chest.

“you are far too fair to be a simple seamstress, i curse myself every day i breathe this air for doing such a thing to you. You should be next to me on the throne, meleth nin..” This made her nearly tear up but she stayed strong, taking a large breath and stepping closer to him.

“Throne or not. I belong by your side, that’s how it always should’ve been.” She told him with sweet, gentle eyes. Making him drop the king act and wrap his arms around her completely and hold her close to him, his chin resting on the top of her head.

It was nearly a cursed sight to see the King doing such a thing, but he did not care because anyone who would like to voice a concern would be seeing the inside of a cell for the rest of their existence.

She buried herself into his chest, squeezing her eyes shut allowing a tear to fall. His hand pet down her hair, the delicate elleth in his arms once again. He felt like he’d just received the greatest gem of all middle earth. “It appears i have broken the King” she chuckled a bit, her words muffled by his chest and she could feel the vibration of his laugh as he did so.

She pulled from him and looked up at him with glossy eyes. He wiped her tears from her cheek with his thumb and gently fixed her stray hairs he’d messed up and bend a finger under her chin.

“I’ll never leave you again, you have my word.” He told her as his thumb ran over her bottom lip tenderly. Her lips curled up into a soft smile, earning a smile from him as well, which was a rare sight to see.

This would be the day known as the first woman to make The King smile.

[daycourtofficial]

My Valentine

Summary: you ask Eris to be your valentine

Author’s note: giving Eris some love bc my boy deserves it idc he needs to be treated so kindly this is pretty short but he deserves to be kissed so tenderly

“What’s this?”

Your mate came home to your cabin, leaving the forest house for the weekend. You had left a note on his desk asking for him to meet you here when he was done with his duties for the day.

He arrived to find you in his favorite gown, a deep red that adorns your body just perfectly. He walks further in, taking in the room before him. Your cabin was quaint, a cozy escape for the two of you away from prying courtiers, nosy advisors, and annoying brothers.

The room is an explosion of color, various varieties of flowers littering the room. Sunflowers, orange lilies, red roses, pink daisies. The room is a color study of shades of warmth. A box sits in the middle of the small dining table, a card sitting on top.

He walks forward, gesturing toward the box laid out in front of him. You nod for him to open it, and he removes the bow, opening the lid of the box.

Inside is a stunning portrait, a moment from your mating ceremony. The two of you are gazing at each other, love shining through your shared gaze.

“How did you-?”

“I asked Lucien if he could let Feyre see it so she could paint it.”

Eris mumbles under his breath at his baby brother’s actions, but you see it for the ruse it is. Eris wasn’t exactly fond of the ruling leaders of the night court, but you got along quite well with Feyre, and he could never be upset with you for sharing this tender moment with her to have her immortalize forever.

“I know we wanted it to be as private as possible, but I really thought you’d like to have a physical reminder of the day.”

He continues looking at the portrait, and it transports him back to the exact moment. You had told him, “who you had to be does not scare me, because I know who you truly are.”

He hadn’t been able to stop the tears at your words, overwhelmed with your love in his chest. He was far from easy to love, but you had done it, and chose to do it every day.

In the portrait you’re wearing one of his mother’s diadems, which adorned your head perfectly. You had understood and even suggested that your ceremony only include Lucien and the Lady of Autumn in attendance.

He wants to reach out, to feel you in that moment again. The silk of your dress as his thumbs grazed over your hips, afraid you would finally grow some sense and leave him. Once his eyes had moved up to yours, he knew you would never part from him.

The fae lights glowed over your face, illuminating the love that was shining off of you, and Eris was quite impressed at the High Lady’s ability to capture your emotions so well.

Eris wants to be upset - he was staunchly private, your relationship a well-guarded secret for so long it was hard for him to open up to anyone about it.

But seeing the way you look at him, immortalized forever by Feyre’s hand, he feels what anger should be there dissolve. Feyre was a good friend of yours, the both of you mated to very complex and powerful males.

He didn’t care for the friendship, but he’d never deny you access to anyone that cares for you as much as she does.

He looks over the portrait again, noting to send Feyre a thank you gift for the work she put into the portrait.

“This is incredibly thoughtful,” he tells you, placing it back into the box. “We will have to decide on a place to put it.”

You beam up at him, his chest full of the pride you feel at how good this gift was.

You nod towards the card on the table, and he grabs it, his long fingers undoing the wax seal. Inside the envelope is a paper in the shape of a heart. He pulls the card out with a smirk, your juvenile efforts warming his heart.

“Hmm,” he ponders, his eyes scrutinizing your neat script, the question will you be my valentine? on the page. “I’ll take your proposal into consideration and I will let you know.”

He places the card back into the envelope, placing it on the table. Eris, the master of masks, doesn’t let his face convey a thing. The bond betrays his mask of indifference, your chest full of the love he wills his eyes not to show.

Beron’s death was a catalyst for many things, but above all, Eris began letting the mask fall. Slowly, over years of work and allowing himself to be seen, he let cracks show in the mask.

That doesn’t mean he can’t still wield it.

You step closer to him, not faltering under his scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have an idea as to when you will be able to give me an answer?”

He smirks down at you, his hand cupping your face. “I am not sure, but I can be persuaded to make it more of a priority.”

His mind wanders back to the portrait as your lips meet his, and he thinks about all the years it took for him to get here. The loneliness, the fear, the cruelties he endured. They all wash away with the wave that is your lips crashing into his.

But by gods he’d do it all again for you.