#i swear if i stayed up all night to make this gifset and they break up at the end of the season..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blush-and-books · 3 years

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i’m sorry, but i fell in love tonight

short fic based off of this gifset by @juliesmolinas and the song is there somewhere by halsey. in fact it is mandatory that you listen to the song/read the lyrics/both before/during reading this. yes i said mandatory.

angst with a sappy ending, julie goes through a lifetime of emotions in less than 3k, was originally gonna write when i was in a more emotionally raw state but writing this made me emotionally raw so... enjoy <3

warnings: swearing

Julie made the promise at some point -- she just doesn’t know exactly when.

It may have been when he appeared at her school, all shy smiles and soft glances, professing that she made him a better writer. Or, more definitively, it could have been when she forlornly pulled him into her arms a moment before she was positive that she was to lose him forever.

All that she knew was her time with Luke was fleeting. So she swore that her butterfly-wing crush was not allowed to fill her chest or dizzy her thoughts; that his lyrics would mean nothing more next to hers than words on a page and his touches would bring her little to no comfort.

Luke Patterson could not complete her.

The universe wouldn’t allow it -- and neither would Julie Molina.

But -- either Luke was blissfully unaware of their impending doom or he genuinely didn’t care -- he forced himself through every barrier she attempted to erect. And it was driving her nearly insane, because she made a promise to protect herself.

Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to do it. Or maybe the universe, despite refusing to give Julie Luke in his entirety, did not want her to be protected.

It was all in the little things-

When she stayed up with him in the garage, playing him all of the songs he’s missed in 25 years, and he danced around on the slippery floor in his socks and grinned at her with wide green eyes. The neon emerald in the dim light was reminiscent of driving on the highway and passing sign after sign leading to the exits she could have taken, but couldn’t bring herself to.

How New Years Eve arrived and the Molina family gathered in the driveway to light sparklers; Luke’s hand brushing hers as he passed off one of the two in his hands.

In his head lulling onto her shoulder while she was trying to finish some homework with his help on the torn couch and his lips moving against her bare skin as he mumbled that she needed to take a break before driving herself insane; followed by her braiding her hair to get it out of her face.

She already had driven herself insane -- but not over her homework.

(His mouth on her shoulder was the answer to a prayer she never dared to murmur aloud.)

Luke never failed to be present when he was needed. If she was sick or stressed or depressed, he knew when to fuse to her side and when to offer some space. Through careful observation rather than conversation, he knew which of her many sweatshirts were reserved for illness or emotional support.

In most of those situations, she needed him, too. Her fingernails would curl into his biceps through a cramp or wave of tears and he would wrap her in his embrace and swarm her with warm words that dried her eyes.

She hated it.

When they wrote music, it felt as though they were already reading each other's minds before either of them had spoken a word about their plans. Their journals contained inky black waterfalls spilled from an intimacy that Julie did not want to dissect.

Again, she hated it. She loved it more than anything and hated that she loved it all -- because it could never be real.

She would always play second fiddle to death.

Julie made the promise to herself to not let Luke complete her because, while she had him for now, the night of the Orpheum was a reminder that the universe would not hesitate to snap it’s fingers and eliminate him from existence.

The universe, being the confusing, stubborn bitch it is, just didn’t get the memo on that promise.

Because Luke filled every crack and restored every gap in her being, and he shouldn’t.

The hopeless, pining romantic in her that constantly argued with her realist side said they were meant to meet. Even if it was brief and heartbreaking and had the power to hurt her in a way she didn’t understand, it had to happen. If it wasn’t supposed to happen, then how and why did he cross space and time only to fall at her feet?

(Soulmates, a taunting voice whispered. Soulmates.)

((The voice was locked in a closet as punishment.))

She didn’t want to entertain the word. It had too much of a forlorn, wistfully romantic sound to it that Julie didn’t need to associate with Luke when she spent most moments with him at this point convincing herself that she wasn’t in love.

Until tonight.

It is past midnight, which is when anyone’s mental state starts to alter. Things that would be labelled as bad ideas in the daylight could very possibly become fair game when shrouded in a darkness that made everything private. The two of them, Luke and Julie, Julie and Luke, are nestled together on the piano bench as her fingers tiredly press each cut of ivory in a working melody.

“I have an idea,” Luke says, gently shifting his left hand to cover hers on the keys. “Why don’t we press pause on this song for a minute?”

Then, she finally looks up at him. Her eyes probably have crescents like the dark side of the moon crossing her skin, and her hair is all over the place, but he’s staring at her in one of the rare ways that she hates.

She hates it because the look convinces her that she completes him.

This time, however, there’s a hope. A hope, and a hesitance, and she’s simultaneously extremely nervous and beyond curious as to what his plans are.

“Did- Didn’t you want to finish this tonight?”

Regret strikes across his face, but he recovers. The softness is back. “Yeah, I just think we need a change of pace.” Right hand on the back of his neck: A telltale sign of a confession of some kind. She’s seen it more times than is healthy. “There was another song I wanted to show you, actually.”

“Oh.” She blinks, he waits. “Yeah, uh, I mean, yeah. Show me. What do you have so far?” He clears his throat as he thrums through the pages to find his target. “The whole thing.”

Julie doesn’t have time to react -- although she’s already in a panic -- before the leather-bound book is being awkwardly shoved into her hands, and the first thing she sees at the top is Luke’s nearly illegible scribble of Dark Room (song for Julie).

“Luke-”

“Just read it.” His voice is significantly raspier than it was a minute ago. “Please.”

She can’t. If he feels the same way and the confession is undeniably in front of her, then what is she supposed to do? Would she rather break Luke’s heart now to save them both down the line, or delay the misery a little longer?

It’s not that she doesn’t want it -- she does. But she doesn’t know if she’s emotionally equipped for any of the options that are offered to her. The destination of any path she chooses leads to a world of heartache.

So, she does the only thing she can think in the moment: She reads the song.

Instantly, the lyrics are blurred from the tears in her eyes because she sees the words “love” and “together” and her greatest fears and grandest wishes are coming true. The sonnet proclaims that she’s his light that illuminated his once-dark forever, and that he was hers when they didn’t even know each other, and that he will be hers wherever he ends up next.

He just wanted her to know that he would have waited another lifetime in the blank, limitless limbo he was in for 25 years if he knew she would be there when he was set free.

And, in the moment, Julie allows herself to acknowledge that her promise is broken.

She’s fallen in love.

And, apparently, he has too.

(Maybe they can claim just one night. The universe owes them that much, doesn’t it?)

“Julie?” God, he sounds so worried. A shaking finger trails up her jaw to catch falling tears, and his contact makes her gasp. He pulls away and shoves his hands together to fidget in his lap. “Julie, are you- Fuck, I’m sorry, I just fucked this up, didn’t I? I fucked it all up. Fuck, I-”

When she chances a look up at him for the first time in the couple of minutes that she’s been staring, hopelessly, at the song in her lap -- he’s got his face covered by his hands pressing roughly into his eyes, and he’s turned to face the piano instead of her.

He takes a deep breath, and it sounds…

Stuffy.

Three more tears leak from Julie’s eyes. More build up every minute as her right hand runs along his shoulder, “Luke…”

“No, Julie, please just drop it.”

“Luke.”

“I clearly misread a lot of stuff, and I’m tired, so maybe you can just go to bed and forget-”

Her hand wraps tightly around his upper arm like it’s done so many times when she has been in distress. “Luke.”

There’s a crack in her voice from sheer desperation. She needs him to look at her, so that she can wipe his tears and smile through the sobs and tell him he didn’t misread a single thing. She would wait a lifetime for him to come out of the dark room, she loves him too, and she’s going to forget all about it.

And ask him to do the same.

At least the scratch of his name catches his attention long enough, because he angles back towards her, and swallows thickly before meeting her eyes. Salty teardrops linger against his eyelids and eyelashes; the red rimming illuminating the oceanic green to look like a gemstone. Her grip relaxes.

“Yeah, Julie?”

She attempts a smile. “The song is beautiful, Luke. I love it.”

I love you.

“That’s it? It’s beautiful, and you love it, but you don’t… I’m not in your dreambox, huh?”

He clearly hasn’t dug through it in awhile. He’s everywhere. Discarded guitar picks and notes he’s left in her school journals and plenty, plenty of songs.

It’s funny, because she told him her dreambox was for things that didn’t make her sad. Luke was a double-edged sword -- making her happy every day in a new way, and making her cry into her pillow at night.

How does she explain this? There’s a whirlwind of responses running through her brain and she can barely coherently comprehend any of them.

“No,” she finds herself sighing as she raises her hand to his cheek, followed by her other hand so that he can’t try and turn away. “No, Luke, no… You’re wrong.”

“What do you mean ‘I’m wrong?’”

Her bottom lip starts to shake. “You think I don’t love you back.” Both of them feel their breath catch at her use of the word out loud. It feels like a secret that shouldn’t be repeated. “And you’re wrong.”

“... I’m wrong.”

“Of course you’re wrong! You really think I don’t love you back?”

“Why are you crying if you love me?”

“Because we can’t do this!”

He scoffs, and Julie’s heart is racing in her chest as he pushes himself off of the piano bench and her hands fall from his face. What has she done?

“That’s bull, Julie.” His fingertips tug at his hair. “You don’t need to make a big dramatic show to convince me it’s wrong just to let me down easy. You aren’t going to talk me out of this.” Dead-on, he stops pacing back and forth, and looks her in the eye. “I love you.”

Listening to him say it, the way his mouth moves and his voice ticks with conviction at each syllable, is what makes her break.

“And I love you too.”

He reels back. He probably wasn’t expecting her voice to raise from their odd, in-between whisper and normal volume.

“But don’t you get it? Luke, we aren't in some magical place where we can meet each other in the middle. A place like that doesn’t exist. You’re dead, and I’m alive, and any future here ends with both of us losing each other.”

“Julie-”

“You said you would wait another lifetime, right?” Using his own lyrics against him. She watches his hands twitch before nodding; the movements of his head barely visible. “Then wait. Another lifetime, another two -- the fucking universe clearly didn’t want us to have this one, so we’re stuck waiting for the next one.”

Even through his clear and fighting need to argue, to talk with her about this, he stiffly nods his head. It’s obvious that she has thought way too much about this from the way she’s barely choking out each word before crumbling into tears before his eyes -- but then again, he’s thought about it too.

Callused hands are running along her neck to tilt her face up out of the blue. She was too busy crying to notice that he had crossed the distance between them to stand right in front of her and assure that she was meeting his eyes.

“Luke-”

“No, Julie, it’s my turn. Please.”

She won’t argue with him. So, with a tender swipe of his thumbs under her eyes, he proceeds.

“Look, I get it. You think I don’t get it? I fucking hate being dead, for so many reasons, Julie. But if I never died, I never would have met you.” Her lips part, and maybe he thinks she’s going to protest because he smoothly lifts a finger in front of her lips that barely makes contact.

(Julie almost presses her lips into it.)

“And you’re right. I wish there was somewhere that we could meet in the middle, but we don’t have that. I wish so many things, Julie. But none of them involve a life where I don’t have you.”

She whimpers, because listening to the man that normally chains his emotions in a cage bare his soul to her at nearly one in the morning is a seriously more out-of-body experience than she expected. She knew, deep down, that she loved him. But she never allowed herself to feel the all-encompassing warmth that she feels now.

“But hey, Julie, look at me,” he coaxes her with a tone that drips with affection. The pads of his fingers are nearly kneading into the back of her neck. “Like you said: The universe didn’t want to give us this lifetime. They couldn’t let us have all the fun, right?” Both of them let out a watery chuckle. “But they still brought me to you, didn’t they? They let me know you in this lifetime, even if we couldn’t have forever. I said I would be yours wherever I am. So even if this,” he gestures to his ghostly form, “isn’t forever, even if we don’t have this lifetime… You know I’ll love you forever, right?”

It was a monologue straight from one of her dreams that left her waking up with a manic smile and tears running down her face.

Unable to form any other response besides an unaware nod, Julie waits for him to continue.

“And maybe, the universe will give us the next lifetime, or a whole new universe, or… Just somewhere where we can get forever.”

Abruptly, his hands slide from her neck and grasp her hands like he needs to hold on firmly enough to believe that she’s still real in front of him. Julie is still speechless and teary, and in the most sentimental gesture, Luke kisses the back of both of her hands.

“We’ll get forever, Julie.” His warm breath puffs against her skin. “I promise you.”

And, well, if he promises forever in the next life -- then why can’t she take what she can get in this one?

tags: @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @lydias--stiles @moreflowersthanweeds @pink-flame

#this will also be posted on ao3 lmao #jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #jukebox #palina #juke fanfic #jatp fanfic

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tiedisms · 4 years

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◟ * hello and welcome to tiedisms : my brand new baby , which will hopefully help you out when you’re plotting , putting together a connections page for ur muse , etc ! while i’ll mostly be reblogging gifsets & other inspo - posts , i wanted to kick things off with a connection masterlist --------- under the cut you’ll find some possible connections + some promts to get you going , as well as examples of specific connections i’ve written for my wanted pages . i’d appreciate any likes and reblogs if you find this helpful at all !!

◟ * platonic .

childhood friends : did they grow up on the same street ? perhaps they could look into each other’s rooms through their windows ? muse a knows how muse b got that awful scar above their knee & muse b knows the details of muse a’s first kiss . people who’ve known each other their entire lives often work in synch , tend to think they know what’s best for the other , too . have they managed to stay friends through the years ? did they grow apart after high school or maybe get into a huge fight ? so many possibilies !

this said , friends who’ve grown apart : losing a friend can cause just as much heartache as a break up ! did life get in the way or did something cause a strain on the relationship ? did one person have to exit the situation because the friendship was becoming more and more toxic ? have they been asking mutual friends about the other or did they cut ties entirely ?

roommates . did they want to move in together or did they respond to the same craigslist add ? did they move in at the same time or did one of them come around later , new girl style ? do they get along or do they butt heads at every corner ? who cooks and who does the dishes ? who’s always way too loud and who complains about the noise ?

best friend’s sibling / sibling’s best friend . extended family of sorts , have always remained at the sidelines of each other’s lives . do they seem to take on sibling roles around one another , too ? or are they pretending to get along for their friend’s sake ?

shared ex . listen to fiona apple’s ‘ newspaper ‘ ! you can read this plot , as i’ve written it for my own connections page , down below .

good / bad influence . people’s lifestyles rub off on each other ! is one actively trying to change the other or is it simply a side - effect of them spending so much time together ? does the bad influence ever feel wrong for taking the other down a dark path ? does the good influence ever worry the other is far beyond saving ?

◟ * romantic .

friends to lovers : perhaps my favorite trope of all time ! look back at that childhood friends connection & now add years of unspoken feelings . how long have they been in love with each other ? who fell in love first ? are they even aware of their feelings ? growing in love instead of falling ! what would their families and other friends think ? are there already rumors and jokes about them being together ? is one of them currently in a relationship or getting over an ex ? do they find it hard to commit to other people , unaware that they’re always going to put each other first ? // alternatively : friends to lovers but after it’s crashed and burned , hate each other for how things ended between them , but still feel so much love for each other because they were always friends first .

casual exes : the type that ended on good terms , are maybe still friends , too . why did they break up and how did they manage to do so amicably ? i heard somewhere that if you’re still friends after a break up u either never were in love or are still in love --- is that the case for them ? do they find it easy to laugh about their time together or is there still some awkwardness there ?

unrequited crush . let your muses have innocent crushes ! we all fall in love with the idea of a person sometimes . does the person they have a crush on use that to boost their ego ? or are they constantly trying to distance themselves ? does your muse want to make a move or are they content admiring from afar ? what do they like about this person ?

sexual tension . the air is heavy between them & there’s clearly something there that they haven’t acted upon yet . why ? is it because they want to be mindful of other people ? because they don’t like each other much ? because they’re good friends and don’t want to ruin that ? have they acted upon their feelings before but promised to never do that again ?

◟ * examples .

* you don't ever have to be stronger than you really are . ——— in which . . . whenever tears pool in the corners of doe eyes , the other is there to stop them from flooding the room . the purest love x's ever known , a guardian angel , a hand to hold when things get tough .

* we were cursed the moment that he kissed us . ——— in which . . . a shared love for someone who can't show affection kindly brought the two closer than anything else ever could , the overlapping memories of a past lover binding them forever .

* it's a bad time for a good time . ——— in which . . . nothing stings like rejection does , pride often stronger than unfulfilled desires . now , they spit venom whenever they try to lure them back underneath their sheets .

* pour a little salt , we were never here ——— in which . . . love lingers just underneath the surface , heard in every word they say , but never confessed . doomed from the start , both nearly choke when calling each other just friends .

* you can count on me to misbehave ——— in which . . . just kids playing games , felt young whenever she was around them until a drunken night changed the way they saw each other , newfound tension bringing nothing but chaos .

* in my head , i do everything right ——— in which . . . heart full of love , but hands empty ; x was careless with their feelings , ran away the first time they had a fight , fell right back into someone else's arms .

* fuck and make up like it's maybelline , ——— in which . . . tangled up in each other's sheets almost every day , can never truly say goodbye despite their constant fights ; anger fuels lust , the roughness of it all only makes it more exciting for a girl dying to feel anything .

* don't blame the drunk caller , ——— in which . . . late nights have never been kind to x & there's a number they never removed from their speed dial . both swear the love has gone cold , but x still calls and they always pick up .

* baby , i was born tired , ——— in which . . . end hard days tangled in each other's arms on the couch , smoke filling the air , no pressure in a safe space . a platonic soulmate , someone to cling to when you need it most .

* must try harder than kissing all of my friends , ——— in which . . . nothing stings like rejection when you're used to people crawling at your feet , x has weaved her way into the lives and beds of people around them , as if to prove a point , begging for attention .

#rph #rpt #. . . . .what other tags do people use #please dont let me flop

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 years

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TOMORROW NEVER CAME (time to dance part 2)

SUMMARY: you met with this stranger at the bar a little while ago. things went intense, intensely fast. it was an encounter you would never forget and his final words before walking away, leaving you standing in this cold winter wind have yet to stop resonating in your mind. as you start to believe you will never cross paths with this myserious man and his killer, icy blue eyes, life has other plans.

WARNINGS: mentions of smoking, knives, alcohol, violence, a bunch of dark stuff, smut (d/s dynamic, spanking, rough intercourse)

WORD COUNT: 1 742

NOTES: reminder when i watched CAMERAS FOLLOWING JAKE AROUND DURING A NORMAL DAY and i also stumbled upon THIS AMAZING GIFSET ? i’m back, with a sequel no one asked for! i didn’t proof read it yet but i’ll read it later and correct some mistakes. thank you for reading i hope you’ll enjoy it!

You came home from work late, that day. You hated closing the place and working at the last shifts. You were not the easiest person to scare out there, but there was something about winter nights that terrified you. Bulgars could storm in at any moment. Roads could get icy and a car could drive straight into the front window and run you over. You could break a leg trying to climb up the dangerous and squeaky stairs to your apartment. You had an endless list of worst-case scenarios, still... You were so ignorant.

The only thing you had to be afraid of, was that stranger from the bar. You had a gut feeling about him. He was up to no good. A man like that could not simply disappear from your life as abruptly as he entered it.

Truth be told, Jake had come back to that very bar every evening. He sat at the exact same table as he did when he met you. He had one eye on the door, hoping to see your heady silhouette. His other eye checked the bathroom, in fear that you would walk out of there with someone else. He waited patiently, hope devouring his soul. He told himself you would be there tomorrow.

Tomorrow never came.

He walked out of the bar on a gloomy night and he looked around, waiting for a car to pass by so he could cross the street and go back to his business. He had spotted that annoying duo of friends, who ordered so many rounds of shots it was a miracle they were still standing up. They terrorized the lonely girls at the bar and he was not having any of it. His hands were buried in his pocket, tightly wrapped around the handles of two small knives. All he had to do was to get a little closer...

Jake looked to his left and his eyes, empty and cold, widened.

You had your earmuffs around your head and you stared at the ground, trying to avoid any ice spots and an inevitable bone fracture. Your nose and cheeks turned pink from the cool breeze and you bopped your head to the music blasting through your covered earbuds. You did not hear the honks and the loud shoutings, not even your feet breaking the thin layer of ice as you walked up the stairs to your apartment, just the sound of your favorite music.

The entire time, he watched you. He dragged himself around, following your path from a safe distance. His heart was beating loud, so loud it was deafening. He slid the hoodie of his jacket on his head and followed you. He recognized your neighborhood, he had been around this part of town before. Memories of that night when you smashed the skull of a random guy on the concrete made him grin.

You took your coat and your accessories off, kicking your shoes on the small mat by the door and made your way to the fridge to drink orange juice straight from the carton. It was only then you stopped your music and decided to head to your bedroom. You did not even know what time it was, and the only thing that mattered was meeting with your beloved bed. You took other pieces of clothing off and decided you’d sleep in your tank top and panties. Your hand grabbed the bedsheets and swung them away, making room for yourself. It was only then you looked up at the walls and noticed a shadow.

It was long, slim, dark. Heavy breathing echoed from behind you as you slowly, very slowly, turned around. Your jaw dropped open, ready to scream for help, but instead, you went silent. You recognized these features, this body, these arms and these hands that moved you around like a rag doll in that bathroom stall. “What the fu—” you exclaimed, but he spoke before you.

“I won’t hurt you.”

And you believed him, which made of you the biggest dumbass on the planet. A stranger whom you only met once snuck into your house, your bedroom, and you were trusting him with your life. Quite literally. Oh, the things one person could do for a good fuck...

“I’ve been waiting for this moment all this time.”

You studied him. He had removed his jacket, but his hands were still hidden in the pockets of his jeans. You could swear his glance softened when your eyes met his, his shoulders almost relaxing. There was something about this mysterious man that made you feel safe, and you hated yourself for it. “Get out of here.” You told him, your voice practically shaking.

“I have one of these too.” His chin pointed at the yellow plastic bird on your last stand.

It was some stupid toy a child gave you when he went to your work place, to thank you for bringing him paper and crayons to draw with when his family and him waited for their food. You looked at the toy, then at the man, in back and forth movements. He was smiling. Smiling.

“You wore that with me the other night, right?” His index finger pointed at your crotch area, but his eyes were locked with yours as you nodded. “I like the color. Red.” His smile grew wider, and he stepped a bit closer to you.

It was unbearable. “Are we going to spend the whole night talking or what?”

Like a bird of prey, he dove towards you, his lips meeting yours in a violent kiss. He tasted of whiskey and cigarette, two flavors you never thought you would appreciate. You two battled for dominance, and when you teased him as you sucked on his tongue, you felt your entire body being pushed backwards. You hit the cold bed as he hovered you with his broad shoulders. He kissed you again, roughly, and trailed kisses down to your neck on which he sucked, and sucked, and sucked. Satisfied with the color of the bruise, he grabbed parts of your tank top and ripped it open. Another grin appeared on his face as he busied himself with your breasts and nipples.

Your back arched against him, when you felt his teeth grazing on your sensitive buds. It felt as intense as it did the other night, and you were barely getting started. In a blink of an eye, his head was between your legs and his tongue licked your soaking wet panties. Again, he ripped them off your body and threw them on the ground as he helped you wrap your legs around his head.

You stretched your arms out to grab his hands as he stared at you through hooded eyes. He was nose deep between your wet folds. The moans you made had him painfully hard, but he did not care about it that much. Again, he used his teeth to bite on your clit before he fucked his tongue into your entrance. He dragged his mouth up to your clit then back to your heat again and again until he felt your legs tighten around him. He pushed them towards you as he took you over the edge for the first time.

You kept your eyes shut as waves of convulsions took over your body.

He took the opportunity to remove his clothes, showing up his fit body and his hard, thick cock that he stroked slowly. “Ready?”

The two of you already knew what was coming. And you nodded frantically. “Please, please just fuck me.”

“Are you always such a good slut?” His laugh echoed in your bedroom as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. You felt tight, warm and wet and it dragged the longest groan out of him.

He pressed on your legs, holding them down and wide open for you to watch just how deep he was fucking you. The skin of your ass slapped with his thighs as he thrusted faster and faster. You did not care that your bed was hitting the wall and that all you could do was scream incoherent pleas and thank you’s.

The man grabbed your breasts firmly and gave them a few blows of spankings. It made you scream louder, and he was loving it. Without telling you, he pulled out and flipped you over so you were on all fours. His sweaty chest was pressed flat against your back and his mouth rested by your ear.

You heard all of his moans and his praises about how good your pussy felt around his throbbing cock. He never slowed down the pace, leaving you thinking he was not even human at all.

“Is that pussy mine?” He spanked your ass once, harder than he ever did. “Huh? Answer me? Whose pussy is this?”

“It’s yours, fuck! It’s all yours!” You stuttered, earning more spankings. “You fuck me so good! Don’t stop!”

And he certainly did not. Both of his hands used your ass to hold himself up. You were completely pressed into your bed as he fucked you, even deeper. His balls slapped on your sensitive clit and right when he noticed you started to clench around him, he went to grab your throat with one hand, using the other one to spank your red ass cheek.

“You gonna give it to me? You gonna prove me you’re my fucking slut?”

And you did. You came so hard around him that no sound escaped from your open mouth. Only seconds after, you felt him emptying himself inside of you. He came in long strokes and stayed still inside of you for a while, admiring how exhausted you were from being slayed this hard.

*~*~*

Jake panted, when you laid your head on his naked chest. He was pulling the blankets up to cover your bodies. The warm feeling of your legs as you wrapped them around his and of your arm around his waist sent electric shocks through his body.

You pressed a tender kiss on his collarbone and closed your eyes, only for a second.

“It was so fun.” He said, his voice suddenly became monotonous and low, raspy even.

You looked up at him, a frown on your forehead. You tensed up against him.

“It’s time for you to burn.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna be sore, it’s gonna burn.” He genuinely sounded concerned.

“Will you meet me up here tomorrow?”

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #one shot: time to dance #one shot: tomorrow never came

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gamerwoo · 5 years

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Soonyoung: What Does This Do?

Characters: Soonyoung x reader (gender neutral)

Genre/warnings: non idol au, streamer reader au, fluff, crack

Word count: 1,094

Summary: You may be a full-time streamer but holy shit, your boyfriend still knows nothing about technology.

a/n: I got this idea from a gifset about how Soonyoung is bad with technology, and then @neverknewgrey2016 expanded on it and now this happened. self explanatory. but uh this also wasn’t looked over so if there are mistakes, I’ll be disappointed but not surprised lmao

"’Did you and Soonyoung meet because he was a fan?’ Are you kidding me?” you snorted after reading the question. “Soonyoung’s lucky he can figure out how to text his mother back! That poor kid can’t work technology for shit. He definitely wasn’t a fan of mine before we met -- we met at a mutual friend’s party, for the record.”

Your boyfriend wasn’t always brought up in stream -- actually, he rarely was because nobody had really seen him. You weren’t all about posting pictures of you and him everywhere, and he never really bothered you when you were streaming because he was afraid of breaking something. But you’d mentioned him because you were late to stream after you went out on a much needed date night with him.

Which maybe was why he was knocking softly on the door to your office.

“Yeah?” you called, removing one headphone from your ear.

“Can I come in?” Soonyoung’s voice asked, sounding like a child asking permission from his mom.

You chuckled, “Yeah, sure.”

Soonyoung cautiously opened the door and peeked inside before opening the door fully and stepping in. Your setup was facing the same wall as the door, so the camera couldn’t catch him. However, your chat was soon blowing up, wondering who it was. You never had people knock on your door while you were streaming. If Soonyoung needed anything, he typically just texted.

But since he was busy working during the day, and you were staying up late during the night, his dinner date with you reminded him just how needy he was for your affection and attention. So he took it upon himself to initialize it, hoping you would let him.

“Are you streaming?” he asked quietly, almost nervous to have your audience hear.

“Yeah, Soonie,” you nodded with another laugh. You glanced down at your chat which was going by so quickly, asking if it was your ‘mysterious’ boyfriend and if they could finally get a reveal. “You wanna come say hi? Chat wants to know you’re not fake.”

“Why would I be fake?” he asked with genuine confusion.

You shrugged, “Some loser that spends too much time on the internet like me would definitely make up a boyfriend.”

“But look at you! How could you--”

“Just get in here!” you laughed, leaning over to grab his hand and tug him into frame.

Looking into your recording, all you could see beside you was from Soonyoung’s stomach down to the tops of his thighs. You giggled, tugging him down into your lap so his cute little face was in view. His eyes glanced over to the recording as well, seeing his own face and his eyes lighting up.

“Hey, that’s me!” he grinned.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly as your arms went around his waist, “that’s how cameras work, babe.”

“What’s this for?” he asked, pointing to your monitor that kept track of chat, your setting, and other things.

“That’s for everything else since this one has the game on it,” you said, pointing to the one that had your game already loaded up -- the screen your audience saw but with your face on it in a little square off to the side.

Soonyoung was so engrossed in all this technology that he’d never seen, looking around in wonder. Not only did you find it adorable, but chat did, too.

“You guys want me to teach him to play?” you giggled after reading the comments in chat.

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, turning to blink at you, “What? Me?”

“Yeah, you wanna learn?” you grinned, pushing your chair back.

“But I’m bad,” he whined.

“I’ll teach you how to not be bad!”

Instead of protesting, Soonyoung just shrugged and let you do what you wanted. So you took his hands and placed them where they were supposed to be, keeping yours on top of his.

“Okay, ready?” you asked as you got yourself into the game. “You’re gonna do some big brained shit.”

“Some what...?” Soonyoung asked quietly, not understanding. “Watch your language, people are watching. Do you always swear?”

You just giggled in response and started playing the game.

Admittedly, it was a little difficult playing with Soonyoung. He would get too excited or get surprised by something and jerk his hand away from the keyboard or move the mouse where it wasn’t supposed to go. At one point, he pulled the mouse so hard that it flew out of his hand, hit the ground, and the batteries fell out. Needless to say, your team wasn’t too happy with you for that.

But at the end of it, you asked Soonyoung if he wanted to play one on his own. Your chat was super encouraging and wanted to see how he’d hold up by himself.

“I don’t think gaming is for me,” he decided with a sigh. “Even Wonwoo doesn’t let me near him when he’s play-- Ooh, what’s that?”

You laughed softly at how easily distracted your boyfriend could be, putting your arms around his waist again and resting your chin on his shoulder, “That moves when you speak.”

“And that?” he asked, pointing to your camera.

“...That’s a camera, Soonyoung.”

His eyes scanned your setup, landing on the glowing button on your tower. He bent over, his finger already on it when he asked, “What does this do?”

“Soonyoung--!”

But everything had already gone black, shutting down after he’d pushed the power button. You sighed, forehead dropping against his back.

“That’s the power button...” you told him.

Soonyoung didn’t quiet register what that meant, so you had to explain that he’d shut everything down in the middle of your stream.

“Oh!” he frowned, turning to face you so his legs were hanging off the side of your chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, rubbing his back. Honestly, he was like a little kid when it came to technology -- he didn’t know right from wrong. How could you be mad? Especially when he was so excited about everything. “It’s date night anyway, and I should spend it all with you, shouldn’t I?”

Soonyoung giggled, resting his head on top of yours, “I wouldn’t complain about that!”

So you left your computer off and went with Soonyoung to your bedroom, tweeting from your phone that Soonyoung accidentally shut everything down but you’d decided to spend the rest of the night with him anyway. After that, the only technology you used that night was the TV to watch your favorite movies with your favorite boy.

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meandmyechoes · 4 years

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Author’s Notes on #crackship fireworks

(scroll down for ship-specfic notes.)

Their (placeholder?) ship name is Fireworks. Because it's a one time, brilliant passion, but it wouldn't last. Violence is a gentle expression. It's also where they meet.

i’m so embarrassed this is my first time creating romance.

idk i’ve shipped before, even harder but idk why this make me blush so much! oh the pressure from a viral meme! and it’s the first really crack ship that I devote an unholy amount of time on (i.e. since 8a.m. July 21st), not even YJ’s famous crack armada could prepare me for this.

usually i get so wrapped up with canon materials, or canon subtext i don’t really need to create all these scenarios in my head, even for lifelong OTPs like Bones or Ulumi because Canon was just enough but this time I feel like I flung myself into a tempest as much as we put these fictional people through and I’m completely ignoring all the rules. I’m stepping out of my comfort zone to really own these characters and create a whole different version for them, that’s just what I’d never do before. Even what I vowed to despise before.

I mean, am I taking this a little more seriously than it needed? Yeah, but i’m like that, obsessed, infatuated and can’t pull out until time drowns me. so with my current caffeine levels, it’s gonna stay for another 24 hours until the embarrassment wins over.

I’m essentially writing OCs here under a prescribed name and it make all the butterflies rattle in my stomach. To exaggerate, I'm fainting like Zuko after he made a good decision.

the popsicle drabble has swum in my head several days before, when I was totally bored and shamelessly put a self-insert in the cat. idk just wanted to paint an idyllic scene because my whole weekend was ruined. it was okay sitting in my brain but the thought of over 100 people is willing to read it just swung a sledgehammer at my face and how i couldn’t possibly name the cat after myself. I gave him the boy version of my name to "symbolize" something but we have to work around that now. Yeah it kinda upset the following ripples but nothing i can’t handle. (wow i just checked the drafts it’s been swimming since july 16th 1:06am)

In regard to the ship(’s future), i did wrote a premise meta for how I’ll grow their relationship. I still have to fine-tune it so they mimic more of their canon personality, or not. There are some details need noted.

i have to be honest. i planned seven chapter titles so far, up to the break-up and maybe reunion. it’s really the angsty reunion that i was interested about and half-dribbled last night in dialogues. but at that point it’s beyond salvage. the other dates are all tropey cliche that i’m contented just have it float in my head. even if i write them they’ll be extremely short lol. i think i’ll write one or two more chapters to kind of pushed them into ‘dating’ at least, but I have zero confidence i’ll actually commit lol.

I have personal grievances with stupid people who [...] cannot accept reality that they can only find fulfillment in polarized AUs. (@meandmyechoes, ships. 2. (unpopular opinion), retrieved 21st July, 2020 16:02)

HA. haha. i'm literally so sorry for obsessing over feral/ahsoka the past 24 hours, and like my past fever dreams, it's likely to fade in the next 24. I just wrote a shameless self-insert the audacity is killing me. seriously this is the deepest craziness I've sunken into since TCW finale and I single-handedly destroyed any pretense of sanity I have on this site. I swear this is just a grief recovery phase and I in fact, is indeed an idiot grinning behind the plasma screen.

you see i would also like to return to regular programming of crying over skyguy and snips which is why my arsenal of sad gifsets are ready to strike back (with bonus sad Rex and Obi-Wan if i can manage)

*****

hey just wanna say i was completely drunk on caffeine last night/this morning and what a fever dream it had been. And now I've been in hangover for nearly 12 hours with a racing heart and paranoid compulsion like a headless fly. And, I want to conclude by, this is not what I want to go down with.

#crackship fireworks #myechoes #cries please don't remeber me for this #my legacy should be well-researched metas and tragic :/ gifsefs welp #also i'm writing phantoms now i said birthday right? it's been a WHOLE month lol #imagine a newbie coming to the fandom next year #and people point at me and say oh yeah she is the crackpot that ships Kenobi's grandpadawan with Darth Maul's baby brother #also she spent a decade staring at Ahsoka's lekku #you'll find the world one more dark-sider #ships

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softjeon · 5 years

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Drown in me | Pt. 1

• Pairing: Pirate!Yoongi x Siren!Jungkook • Genre: Angst, Fluff | Pirate!AU / Siren!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 9,3k | written with @cassiavioletblue • Disclaimer: mentioning of blood, alcohol, abuse, nsfw content

↳ “When I sing…people do weird things. Strange things happen.” Yoongi laughed awkwardly but stopped right away when he realized that Jungkook was serious about what he had said. This wasn’t a scared little boy trying to make use of some fairytale to scare the captain of the ship he’s been brought on into submission. He believed what he said.

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The deafening boom of cannon echoed across the water. There was smoke billowing and the floor was wet. His eyes were wide in panic flickering around the room, seeing water break its way into the ship, the agonizing cries of wounded people in the background. Blood splashed everywhere, draining off the deck through the scuppers into the sea. There was another great guns fired, and he could hear them cheer when the shots splintered the ships hull above the waterline. Pulling at his restraints, he let out a muffled cry. The ground shook, and part of the deck slid down as an exploding cannon ball splintered it completely. Immediately, he heard a scream of anguish. Then it was quiet.

With the hole being torn into the ship, Jungkook could see the intruders. Their black, ripped and dirty clothing giving away immediately what their business was. His eyes widened and if it wasn’t for the cloth in his mouth, Jungkook would have gasped. Pushing himself back into the corner, Jungkook pulled his knees in, while his eyes couldn’t tear their gaze off what was happening. The crew pressed against the mainmast; fear written in each of their faces.

“Let them drown,” A rough voice called out, effectively sending a shiver down Jungkook’s spine and only when one of the sailors tried to run, did he see where the voice had come from. He was younger than he’d expected and by the way he was holding himself up, the presence that was surrounding him Jungkook knew it was the captain. The leader. He walked with such marvelous dexterity that everyone else gave an involuntary gasp of admiration and fear at the same time. And from where he hid, he could see the pirate push his sword into the man’s body, removing it effortlessly only seconds after. Jungkook pressed his eyes shut in a weak attempt to wish himself somewhere else and not to be here, on the middle of the ocean bound to his restraints and a sinking ship.

“Bring me everything you can find! Quick!”

The order made Jungkook snap his eyes open again and then he could hear footsteps coming closer. There were people roaming around the ship, searching for gold, food…anything that was worth something, while the crew was being tied up against the wooden mast, victims to be drown and sink with the ship. Jungkook gulped heavily. He would die…his destiny finally catching up to him and letting him drown at the bottom of the ocean bound and chained up. A sudden shadow over him made him freeze within seconds and Jungkook looked up slowly, every muscle in his body stiffened up.

“Captain!” The young man hovering above him called out, a crooked smirk appeared on his lips and Jungkook began to shake his head in panic, holding his hands up in defense, “I found something that you might like…”

Normally his men were supposed to just bring him stuff that he liked so when someone called out for him Yoongi furrowed his brows, “What is it?”

Either someone was trying to make himself feel important which would annoy him out of his mind and probably lead to a little more bloodshed than necessary today or there was actually something interesting for him to see. He hoped it was the latter. He normally stayed on deck for safety reasons because it was easy for the hijacked ship’s crew members to hide there and some in their desperation would try to take whoever approached them down with them but Yoongi was bored today and confident that he would be able to defend himself, so he followed the shouting.

“I swear to god if this is just some piece of jewelry that you found pretty or something that’s too heavy for you to carry so you lured me down here to help you then you won’t forget... oh!” He stopped mid-sentence as he saw what had made his crew member call for him. There was a boy being held in the belly of the ship. And he was pretty as hell. Yoongi’s surprised look turned into a smirk. “Hello pretty one! Who are you that they kept you down here? Such a waste to keep your beauty to the shadows.” He reached forwards and ripped the piece of cloth from the boy’s mouth.

Jungkook flinched, gasping for air the moment the cloth was gone, his eyes wide in panic. He bit onto his tongue, not sure whether he should speak up or not. Would they kill him either way? Jungkook yelped, when a rough grip on his neck pushed him down. “I…I…’m not s-sure,” Jungkook coughed, his voice sounding rough and his throat dry, “T-they kidnapped m-me.” It was only half of the truth and Jungkook blinked up at the man, his dark orbs staring straight back at him, making him shiver. His own fearful eyes begging him not to hurt him.

“Well then today is your lucky day because we just killed your kidnappers. As you were part of their possession you are now part of mine. Though I would never keep you in the dark like this. I have lots of candles in my bedroom.” Toying with the boy was way too fun not to do it. He wondered why he was here because he didn’t look as if they had done anything else to him but lock him away so they either had kidnapped him only recently - or the pretty little thing was lying through his teeth, maybe a ship-boy who had committed a crime. Either way he was planning on taking him with him because it would certainly be entertaining and a breath of fresh air because being surrounded by the same hand full of people every day and every night on his ship could get pretty boring. He’d make sure his newest ‘conquest’ would make it worthwhile having him on his ship.

The young man only gulped hard and even though it meant being kidnapped again, it was better than to drown alive. Jungkook stumbled, the sudden tough grip shoving him forward letting him waver dangerously. He had been starved, the crew only given him the necessary to survive and to keep him alive to be used. His muscles haven’t been stretched like this in a while, cowering in the corner of the boat was giving him much exercise. He was exhausted. Jungkook blinked the little shiny dots away, trying to concentrate as they stepped onto the deck of the slow sinking ship.

Now that he stood there, he could see the dreadful dimensions of their killing. A few crew men still bound to the mast, begging to be kept alive but their fate was sealed – they would drown with their ship. A sudden gasp came from them when they saw how Yoongi’s men maneuvered him over the plank and towards their ship without a cloth in his mouth.

“You fools,” One of them whispered as the captain passed them struggling against his restraints. He spat right onto his feet with a disgusted expression, his eyes flickering between the boy that barely could keep himself up and the pirate. “He’s going to be the death of you. Be warned. He’ll drown you.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Yoongi ripped that man’s shirt to wipe his shoe clean with it and then put it into the man’s mouth just like they had done it with Jungkook. “At least we have something in common than he and I as I like drowning ships too. Could be the basis for a great relationship, don’t you think?” In front of him Jungkook stumbled and almost fell onto the planks that had become slippery with blood. “Let me.” He nudged the man aside to lead their new prisoner and then hoisted the boy up into his arms. He could feel how thin he was, how lithe he felt in his arms. It might be a funny thing to feel after slaughtering men, but he got angry. There were rules to being a pirate like there should be to anything really and letting your prisoners starve was not one of them - unless Jungkook had tried to kill the crew members first. “Is it true what they said? Did you try to drown them - or kill them in some other way? I’ll find out if you lie so you better don’t or what they did to you will feel like vacation.”

Jungkook held onto the pirate with a tight grip, too scared that the other might let him fall. It felt personal. Their faces so close to each other that he could see the smudged black around his eyes, but nonetheless the pirates face looked flawless – almost soft. He stared right back into his eyes, getting lost in the darkness for a moment before Jungkook shook his head softly. “No,” He said, keeping their eye contact to show that he was honest. Jungkook had never tried to kill anyone – not on purpose at least.

“Then I hope you’ll be my guest at a little private dinner in my cabin tonight. I figure those people owe you some food.” They always took all of the crew’s food and water - if they hadn’t surrender that was. If they had then Yoongi only took their money or other valuables but if they tried to kill him and his crew and hurt his beautiful ship then he saw red. And the hijacked ship would go down with all its men.

The money was shared as was the food and of course Yoongi got the biggest percentage so he could definitely afford a private dinner with his newest addition to the ship. Though they always had enough food in general. Yoongi wasn’t a traditionalist, he adapted so instead of the usual food and rations he stored what he picked up from tropical islands or foreign salesmen, dried fruits and vitamins and everything else that would keep his men healthy. He had seen what scurvy did to sailors and he refused to end up like that.

“O-okay,” Jungkook felt weak when Yoongi put him back on his own feet, a bit too wobbly as he took a few steps forward. He looked over his shoulder, where two of Yoongi’s men had followed them as if they were the captains guards. As if he would run any second. Jungkook chuckled. As if he could with how weak he felt.

“C-can I ask for your name?” Jungkook turned back, furrowing his brows. Something in his gut told him that he should know about this crew, this ship and it’s captain. This wasn’t just any pirate. Unfortunately, Jungkook hadn’t been with normal people or on land for a long time. “You can call me black captain. Or just savior will do as well.” He smirked, straightening out his captains jacket. It was black, as deeply black as it could be after sailing for a while with saltwater and salty air all around them but Yoongi made sure to dye it as often as he had the chance. It made a nice contrast with the gold buttons and tassels on his shoulders - and it also didn’t show blood that easily. It had become his signature feature, therefore the ‘black captain’ even though his crew used to joke how it was because his soul was as black as the devil.

“Will you give me something to call you in return or should I just call you pretty one?”

“Black?” Jungkook cocked up an eyebrow and then followed Yoongi inside of his cabin, when his heart picked up its pace. He heard stories before. Everyone, on land or on sea, feared the crew. They were ruthless and absolutely mad for gold. At least that’s what he had picked up from the people. He eyed the captain once more, his gaze flickering over to the pirates setting up the table for them before he asked, “People say you’re mad.” He leaned his head to the side, thinking for a moment, “You seem pretty sane to me.”

Jungkook took one of the chairs and sat down with an exhausted sigh. “People call me all sorts of things,” He answered, his eyes transfixed on a carafe that was filled with something that looked like juice or wine – Jungkook wasn’t so sure. “But you can call me Jungkook. Just…that. It’s what I prefer.” Mumbling the last words, he gulped hard against the dryness of his throat.

“Oh, don’t let yourself be fooled, of course I’m not sane. I can’t be when my reputation says something so different.” He chuckled. To be honest he liked it, being known as the wild, ruthless, crazy black captain. It made their job a lot easier. They hadn’t had to kill a whole ship like they had done today in quite a while which meant less risk, less injuries and easier access to gold. Though apparently too little damage made people think they could have a chance at defending themselves. At least it had brought him this little gem. He raised his eyebrows at the boy, “Oh? What other sort of things are you called? Besides the obvious like pretty and precious.” Of course, he called him that to tease but the boy was quite beautiful. Now that he thought about it too beautiful to have been on a ship for longer because wind and sun and work usually started to show after a while unless you were the captain and could stay under deck.

“You’ve heard one of them,” Jungkook eyes turned emotionless for a moment. Devil. Witch. Possessed. Crazy. Strange. Haunting. He’s been called many things. And none of them got close to what he really was. “Can I?” The younger pointed at the bread, his voice sounding a little softer and when the captain nodded he ripped a chunk off it and took a delicious bite. Closing his eyes, Jungkook moaned at the taste, before reaching for the carafe, filling his cup to gulp it all down hastily.

Yoongi quickly gripped the younger’s wrists to keep him from swallowing so hastily. He could see the boy’s eyes go wide in fear, either that the food would be taken away from him or that Yoongi would hurt him he didn’t know. “Take it slow, Jungkook. I figured you haven’t eaten in a while and if you eat like that you’ll throw it all up. We have enough food here and I won’t take anything away from you so enjoy your meal. Also, I’d like for us to keep talking during it so you stuffing your mouth makes it a little difficult.” He let him go when Jungkook showed that he had understood and took a piece of bread himself while continuing to watch him. He wasn’t quite finished with figuring out the kid’s mystery. “So where are you from Jungkookie?”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders in response, “M’ not sure. I never lived for long in a town, so I just…am here and there. I was given in care to a foster home when I was young. Somewhere…north?” He gulped down the food, “I’m not quite sure where we are now actually. I lost direction a while ago. Which sea are we sailing on?”

“Captain,” A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and a tall man peeked his head through, eyeing Jungkook quickly before he pushed a small leather bound book in front of him. “I found something that you should know about.” Namjoon’s voice was soft, yet Jungkook could feel the sudden heaviness on his lungs, the feel of danger nearing once more. He had learned to trust his instincts. While the waves were crashing against the side of the ship loudly, Jungkook looked up at Yoongi. He could feel the beating of his heart steadily against his chest, the nervousness crawling up his spine.

Yoongi took the book from Namjoon’s hands. He was a confidant of his and Namjoon knew when to interrupt him and when not so he looked at it right away knowing that it must be something to deserve his immediate attention. When he read the last page though it was like reading one of the usual pirate fairytales of magical treasures and hidden maps and unspeakable wealth for the people who were able to find both. He furrowed his brows and looked up at Namjoon who just gave him a sign to start from the beginning. As it turned out it wasn’t a fairytale book - it was the logbook of the captain whose ship they had sunk. And apparently the man had been on a quest to find the treasure that he had written about at the end. Now that Yoongi looked more closely he could see small notes on the side, like ‘boy = map’ and ‘keep him shut up at all times he’s DANGEROUS’ when Yoongi looked up again to tell Jungkook that apparently the captain had gone insane and thought him to be a dangerous creature the words stayed stuck in his throat. Jungkook looked as if he knew what he had just read. And suddenly what he had said before about being called names made a lot more sense. It had almost sounded as if Jungkook had gotten used to it. As if… it had happened multiple times.

“Jungkook…” The boy avoided his gaze, holding onto the last piece of bread that he had taken as if he expected Yoongi to rip it away from him. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Jungkook licked his lips nervously, not really sure what to do or what to say. Taking a deep breath, Jungkook opened his mouth and closed it again. He looked at Namjoon for a second, then at Yoongi. It was as if the pirate read his mind, ordering his confidante to step out of the room, who only protested quietly. He had read the notes, the warnings. He didn’t trust the young man. And still he closed the door behind himself, leaving them to some privacy.

“I can’t tell you anything about a map, nor do I know anything about a treasure,” Jungkook spoke up as soon as they were alone. “I didn’t lie about where I came from, or about ever wanting to hurt anyone.” He hesitated, biting his lip. His voice was quiet when he was talking again, almost a whisper and he sounded like he was scared – off himself. “When I sing…people do weird things. Strange things happen.”

Yoongi laughed awkwardly but stopped right away when he realized that Jungkook was serious about what he had said. This wasn’t a scared little boy trying to make use of some fairytale to scare the captain of the ship he’s been brought on into submission. He believed what he said. And even though sailors could be superstitious and gullible there must have been at least some reason why they kidnapped him. The sailors had been adamant till the end that Jungkook would make them drown. Why would it be the last thing they had to say if they didn’t believe it?

“You mean that, don’t you? Are you telling me your mother was a mermaid next? Or that you’re a siren? I hate to break it to you, but they’re usually described with long hair and fish tails. And you have neither. So, what do you have to proof your theory. Only your singing? I would be stupid to ask you to show that to me if it’s really that dangerous, so you need me to believe you without proof? Just like that? Why did the others keep you under deck? Did you make someone go crazy with your voice? Or do you simply use your beauty to make people fall in love with you? That’s the fastest way to make someone go crazy over you, isn’t it?”

Jungkook shook his head, of course it was just funny to him. Pirate tales were just tales in the end. Stories they told each other to keep themselves entertained.

Jungkook stood up and reached out his hand for him. “I’m not stupid, Black. I won’t hurt you,” His voice turned more melodic, softer and Jungkook knew it would reach his aim. “They were scared of things they don’t understand. Are you scared, too?”

There was something new in the boy’s voice, an underlying tone, something velveteen and alluring. It drew him in, even more than Jungkook’s beauty did and with horror Yoongi realized that it had an effect on him. He wanted to help the boy and to make sure he was fine, he wanted to be useful to him - as if their roles were reversed and Jungkook was the captain and he the prisoner. Yoongi quickly got up, batting Jungkook’s hand away. “Show me.” His voice was shaking. He was scared. Who wouldn’t if the embodiment of all the nighttime stories and fairytales stood in front you, looking as beautiful and harmless as everyone told you they would while knowing how dangerous and powerful and cruel they were.

He took a bit of soft wax and used it to seal his ears. If Jungkook’s voice was the magic then not hearing his song would make him safe. Then he took the boy by his arm and a knife from his belt and dragged him back up on deck.

“Sing. I want to see what you’re capable off. But don’t harm them. Stop before anything happens or any of them is harmed - or else you’ll regret it.” He placed the knife against Jungkook’s throat, the cool metal just resting against his skin even though Yoongi was ready to use it. If Jungkook wouldn’t stop singing in time then he would make him stop.

The younger closed his eyes, his hands shaking, so he folded them together. Taking a deep breath, Jungkook tried to keep control over what he sang this time. It still was something he felt he lost control over way too many times. He snapped his eyes open and focused on one of the pirates, as he began to sing, and his voice was flowing around them just like the waves hitting and washing over them.

“Come to me, I let you in.

All the secrets that I keep, hidden in my blood.

Slipping right through your hands, you’re going down with me.”

It was just like Jungkook had said, as soon as he had started singing all the attention was on him. Of course, if their captain came on deck with a boy while holding a knife to his throat then his crew would naturally come looking to ask what this was about. But this wasn’t what was happening. Before Jungkook had opened his mouth they looked confused or shocked but as soon as he started singing their expression changed.

Namjoon was the first to react as he was closest to them. He looked as if he had never heard or seen something so beautiful and went over to them, reaching out as if he needed to hear Jungkook sing from a little distance as possible. Yoongi put a little more pressure on the knife, using the flat side to not cut Jungkook’s skin right away to signalize the younger than he didn’t want any bewitched crewmembers coming towards them. Namjoon stopped then and Yoongi wondered what exactly Jungkook was singing for them to listen right away. He wished he could hear Jungkook sing without feeling the effects though what he was seeing was enough to have him cautious. No one on deck was doing what they were supposed to, some had closed their eyes, swaying in what must be the rhythm to Jungkook’s song, others behaved completely random, Tae was playing with a few shells he must have collected, a dazed smile on his face that told Yoongi he was pretty much gone.

“Fall in my trap,

and on your knees. In waves, let it wash over you,

hold your breath and let it bury you.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered up, when he gasped. He hadn’t realized that there was someone on look-out, high above the ship itself. He really had tried to keep an eye on everyone, to not make anyone hurt himself. His song broke off right away and the young man, whose leg was dangling dangerously over the edge was falling back into his little cabin, coming up only seconds after with the most confused look on his face, rubbing the back of his head. Namjoon was on his knees in front of Jungkook, staring up at the younger, his dazed eyes getting back it’s clearance and the pirate blinked a couple of times, a headache settling at the back of his mind. Whatever just happened, he didn’t know, all Namjoon did though was that he was addicted. For a moment he had been released from everything else, only Jungkook existed.

Like a drug, something that he would need. Jungkook stared right back at him, the knife still too close to his throat and Namjoon stumbled back.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Yoongi’s voice sounded calm but he was anything but. A siren. The boy in front of him was a fucking mythical creature living to drown sailors and as he had seen until mere seconds ago it worked perfectly on absolutely every one of his crew. He would be no exception if his ears weren’t blocked. He took the headscarf out of his pocket that he used in storms or under scorching sun to shield his face and folded it. It took him a while, with the knife still pressed against Jungkook’s throat he only had one hand free, so he pressed it against his side to make it work. “Open up,” He hissed before stuffing the scarf into Jungkook’s mouth and tying it tightly at the back. He saw that Namjoon was talking to him, so he gave him a sign to shut up before freeing his ears from the wax. “What?”

Jungkook whined quietly and still he let him stuff his mouth like the others had done with him all the time. It would mean nothing to a pirate if he’d promise to not sing and that he had no use in hurting people. He didn’t want this. He never wanted this. Jungkook barely understood himself what he was or why people needed him, going as far as kidnapping him, when all his voice brought was people going mad and wanting to drown themselves in the end. It felt like a cruel joke of life. He barely had anything, and it only ripped away more from him, leaving him with nothing but empty and tied hands.

Jungkook was scared now. Before the pirate had been almost kind to him and the thought of starving again, doing the same procedure all over was taunting him. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? He didn’t know anything about a treasure, nor a map. He had barely figured out what he was when he was younger. Half Siren. Half Human. And yet, there was so much more he didn’t understand. About the things he could do, his abilities where he really came from and what had happened to his mother. He feared that Yoongi would punish him just as much as the others did, thinking that he would know and just didn’t tell them. Jungkook just felt tired. All he wanted was to sleep.

Namjoon’s brows were furrowed deeply as he stared at his captain and the boy, waiting patiently for his captain to take out the wax. “What just happened? What the fuck is he?” He looked at Jungkook more thoroughly, fearing the abilities of the boy but at the same time he wondered if the tales were really true and the boy could lead them to gold. More than they could ever imagine. And in a weird, wicked way, Namjoon wanted Jungkook to sing again just so he could hear the melody once more.

"He's a siren! A creepy, deadly, fucking mythical creature is what he is." He dragged Jungkook towards the mainmast and gripped one of the ropes they used to tie their ship to the docks. It was thick and heavy with a rough texture and Yoongi thought that if it held a whole ship then it would surely be able to hold back a siren. "Help me tie him to the mast," He demanded, waving Namjoon closer to them who seemed afraid to even touch him. "Don't worry, he can't bewitch you as long as his mouth is closed. I'm touching him right now and I wouldn't hesitate to cut his throat if he made so much as a wrong move or tries to speak."

Jungkook was writhing, shaking his head as he tried to speak and tell them that he wouldn’t sing. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. But his words sounded way too muffled and he wasn’t even sure himself if what he was saying out loud was right. “Please,” Jungkook mumbled, gulping heavily, hating the taste of the cloth in his mouth but both were too strong. So, he gave in, again, just like had done before. Jungkook averted his gaze, his eyes locked on the wooden floor instead of the pirates.

“So, it’s true, too?” Namjoon asked, when Jungkook finally stopped struggling and sunk in on himself only getting held up by the ropes around his body, “The tale? How can he be a siren. He’s a man.”

"I'm not sure. But I guess as most sailors would notice a woman first maybe the males just weren't mentioned. Or...or maybe they are shapeshifters, shifting into whatever looks most stunning to the object of their magical manipulation." His eyes narrowed as he tried to see through whatever magical trick Jungkook might be doing, poking the youngers cheek. Nothing happened though and when he remembered that Jungkook had been with another Captain first and he had looked like this since he had been found by one of Yoongi's crew members so if Jungkook had not been able to see into his head from afar then he looked naturally so appealing and not because he tried to make Yoongi fall for him. He leaned over to Namjoon, toning down his voice "Do you think he has scales somewhere on his body?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Scales? Shapeshifting? That was definitely something he couldn’t do. He wasn’t even a real, full siren but the captain seemed adamant to think so. A cold, salty breeze hit the young man and it made him shiver involuntarily.

Namjoon hummed and shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe you have to look for it?” A smirk pulled at his lips when Jungkook’s head snapped around. “Very thoroughly…but let me study the book first,” Namjoon turned on his heel. “I’ll tell you if I find something else until then…it’s best we keep the boy in check.”

Yoongi nodded, trusting Namjoon to explain to the others what had just happened and that they should stay away from the boy...siren. He swallowed harshly as he looked back and the younger met his gaze. He didn't look monstrous or angry just…desperate and sad. As if Yoongi had hurt him. The Captain shook his head. Sirens were Masters of manipulation; how else would they get sane men to kill themselves for them? Jungkook wanted him to doubt his decision and to feel with him. So Yoongi couldn't even let a single second of doubt come over him. He was responsible for his men and their safety.

He wouldn't let a Monster loose no matter how pretty it was.

…

Jungkook couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep. There were pirates everywhere, some nudging him with the tip of their shoe, laughing, or just eyeing him warily from a distance the whole night. Some were still afraid, thinking he was bewitched and although Namjoon had explained it, not everyone could understand. Jungkook was jerking up repeatedly and only when the bright sun was burning hot on his skin the next day, did he realize that sleep had pulled him under at some point. He groaned, sleepily blinking his eyes open when something was itching his ear. Moving his shoulder, he tried to move away from it. He felt nauseous from dehydration and his muscles were stiff and aching.

“Mhno,” Jungkook shook his head when there was another touch, this time rougher and he could hear voices. Within seconds, he stared wide eyed at a few pirates that were hovering over them, talking about him as if he wasn’t even here, when one gripped his chin roughly. “Aren’t you a pretty one.” He chuckled, patting Jungkook’s cheek in the process, “Do you really think he’s a siren? Where’s his tail then?”

“He’s hiding it! Of course, he’s hiding it. No one would want to go with him in his real form. Just look at him. He’s too pretty. No fish could be that pretty.” Another of the sailors chimed in, “I heard the captain say that he’s hiding his scales under his clothes. The captain knows such things. He’s the one who made him stop singing.” The others nodded and agreed before someone asked, “Should we take a look then?”

There was silence for a minute before the first one laughed, “What, are you scared? Scared of a fish on land? He’s bound and he can’t sing.” He held Jungkook’s head and pushed the cloth deeper into the boy’s mouth until the younger choked on it. “There, you’re not that powerful anymore without your voice, little bird.”

Jungkook tried to breathe in through his nose, turning his head away from them, kicking his legs once to make them stop coming closer. It was awful enough already the heat of the sun making him feel way too hot and nauseous. Jungkook wanted to scream at them, to let him be and that he was the one who stopped singing, not the captain. He had chosen to stop. Jungkook scoffed. Pirates – only dirty (and obviously dumb; because why the hell should he have a fish tail) men that are completely full of themselves.

He narrowed his eyes when one of them came closer again, trying to lean back as much as he could and away from his reach.

“I’d say we take a look. Maybe they are nice, and we could take them and sell them. I think he owes us for bewitching us like that. My head felt like someone had hold me underwater for too long. He can’t just come on our ship and then try to take it over with a bit of singing. He owes us compensation!” There was affirmative murmuring and one of them took out his knife. “I’m not scared, I can do it. And if he’s hiding them under his clothes then I’m afraid they need to go.” He looked Jungkook right in the eyes, a dirty smile on his lips. “How about you show us how pretty you really are, fishboy!”

Jungkook’s eyes widened immediately, flickering back and forth between the knife and the pirate coming closer. His outcry was getting muffled by the cloth as he kicked out to not let the pirate get too close. He shook his head furiously, screaming as loud as he could, when a tight grip around his neck made him stop. Breathing heavily through his nose, Jungkook froze and only his eyes followed the movement of the knife. He was pleading, eyes burning with the tears as he shook his head, trying to make them understand wordlessly. When the pirate got even closer, Jungkook took the opportunity and kicked out as hard as he could, hoping by the scream of the pirate that he had hit his crotch area. The pirate screamed in pain, backhanding Jungkook right away with the same force the younger had kicked him. There were both chuckles and fearful gasps coming from the back.

“I told you he’s not just a pretty little thing. He’s just hiding. He’s a monster with sharp teeth that would drown any of us in a second simply because it’s his nature. Don’t let him get too close to you.”

“Come over and help me tie his legs to the post if you’re that smart. I’d say we start with his legs anyway cause that’s where his tail should be, right? There must be a trace.”

“Maybe he’s even got a fin on his back!” Someone yelled but the one who found him shook his head. “No, I’ve held him when I helped him upstairs on the other ship. I would have felt it. There was nothing on his back.”

“Better make sure you’re right,” The pirate with the knife murmured and then pulled the knot around Jungkook’s ankles a little tighter. “Kicking won’t help you now, fishboy. We’ll find out what you’re hiding and then we’ll rip your pretty scales out, one by one.”

With that he made a cut right into the fabric of Jungkook’s pants, ripping it clean open with his fingers. When there was nothing unusual he continued, ripping the pants further and further until they looked more like half a skirt or a scarf than actual clothes. Jungkook struggled but there wasn’t much he could do and when the others realized that he wasn’t a threat any more they came to help, using their own knives and tools to make short work of what Jungkook was wearing. They were surrounding him like moths did with a flame, just that it wasn’t the sailors who were hurting. They were touching Jungkook without any care as if he was a doll or part of the ship and with no regard of his personal boundaries. “Do you see any?“ There was the sound of fabric ripping again and then another hand was on him, touching and groping wherever they could reach.

“Nah, not yet.“ Jungkook’s flawless, scale-less skin only spurred them on to look further, completely convinced that they would find what they were looking for in the end. They didn‘t stop before they had completely undressed him, and his former clothes were hanging on his delicate frame in bits and pieces.

…

Yoongi heard his footsteps way before the door opened, knowing it was Namjoon just from the sound of it. “Come in!” The voice of the captain startled him, when he hadn’t even knocked letting himself into his map room.

“I was awake all night reading the notes,” Namjoon waved the book a little before placing it onto the table where there was still enough room. “Do you know the tale of the mirror of chéngquán?” Namjoon raked a hand through his hair messily, “It’s what the guy believed Jungkook would lead him to.”

“A mirror?” Yoongi furrowed his brows. “I don’t need a mirror. I thought you said that there was something about a treasure in there. Or is Jungkook supposed to lead to both?” He took another sip of the rum he was drinking. It burnt on his tongue, but he liked it. And he really needed something to ground himself before he went crazy over the fact that he had a real, living, singing siren on his ship!

Namjoon chuckled and sat down, filling his own cup with rum before he explained, “The mirror of chéngquán is believed to be hidden somewhere in the middle of the ocean in midst of gold. But the real treasure is the mirror itself. It was made by a siren, a woman’s magic flowing in its reflection. Pained from the unrequited love she felt for a man, waking only the desires in others when herself she felt lost. The mirror, it can read your truest desires and will show you the way to what you truly want. The people say, she sat there every day, singing, looking into the mirror as it was the only way to see her love – until she died. Some said that her crying is still audible at night the closer you get to the cave, but no one who got close enough has ever been seen again. Her voice will make you drown, before you can even reach it. If you know where the cave is, of course. There is no map. Just the boy.” He cocked up an eyebrow, when a lopsided smile appeared on his lips, “Imagine the gold we could find if we have that mirror. If you have that artefact, anything is possible.” He took a few sips, letting that information sink in, ignoring the sudden loud stomping from above, before he leaned closer to Yoongi, “If someone can find it, then it’s you.”

Berating Namjoon for believing in fairytales didn’t feel right with an actual siren on deck so he just coughed a little awkwardly and said, “I guess I could try. I mean it’s not like we’re hunting for anything special right now and just hijacking ship after ship is a bit boring. Finding a treasure is what we need. Or honestly just the hunt would be enough. Knowing that there’s something you’re getting up for in the morning and that colors your dreams at night. I want this, Namjoon, as much as you do, but I don’t know how to get him to talk.” He bit his lip in concentration. “Maybe I should try again. Talk to him. If I gain his trust then he might open up a bit more.” The thing was just he couldn’t run around with wax in his ears all the time. And he had no idea how to protect himself from Jungkook’s voice. “Do we have something stronger on board than rum? Something… that would ruin your voice for a while if you drank it?”

Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, “I’m not sure…I don’t know what to think of the boy. Nor do I know enough about sirens, except for the tales I heard of. I’ve never saw one and have always believed they only come in shape of women. I never once heard of a siren being a man. Maybe you can tell him to just nod or shake his head,” He sighed, turning his head as he could hear loud cheering coming from above and he furrowed his brows. “I guess, the crew really needs a new goal. If there is no mirror, there still can be lots of gold right? And we can’t ever get enough of it.”

“As if I could trust him! He could make me go insane with a single song. Who knows what those sailors did to him. And I wasn’t exactly nice after I found out what he was either. If I was in his place I would hate everyone around me so I can either keep him tied up and gagged at all times - or do something to make sure he can’t use his voice while still talking. I guess I’ll try my luck with the latter. But I should take him down from deck anyway.“ He had felt safer with knowing that the boy wasn’t under deck with him and that his crew members could have an eye on him at all times as there was always someone on deck. But considering that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday or had any water at all… Yoongi’s stomach clenched uncomfortable. What if he needed more water than a human because of what he was? What if he...was dying up there? And that was what the fuzz they could hear was about? The pirate captain was on his feet within a heartbeat, grabbing a glass of whatever drinkable liquid he could find. “I… I’ll just go check on him.”

...

Jungkook was more or less bare in front of them. But there were still no scales in sight. Absolutely nothing but smooth, soft skin littered with a few bruises where the crewmembers of the other ship had handled him too roughly. “This can‘t be!“

“He‘s still bewitching us!“

“He‘s manipulating us, to see things that aren‘t there...“ They were talking over each other, angry and hostile as if it was Jungkook‘s fault that he didn‘t have any scales on his body. As if he had personally tricked them and fooled them to have a laugh. The man with the knife who had started all this couldn‘t let go. “I swear he must have scales somewhere, he‘s not human, we all heard him sing, we felt it, what he did to us. He‘s not one of us!”

A sunburnt sailor with a scar over his face, from the edge of his eye until down to his cheekbone who hadn‘t said much so far suddenly cleared his throat and all the murmuring died down. “You are all idiots. Of course, you can‘t see his scales. All you can see is that soft human skin. You might wonder how a boy could look like that, so soft and smooth and flawless. And I can tell you how: It‘s not his. My cousin has seen a siren once and he just barely escaped. He told me that he had seen them eat a girl. And then they kept her skin. I bet this is what he‘s doing. Wearing some poor girl‘s skin to hide the monstrosity underneath. I bet if we peel back his skin just a little there is nothing but murky scales and ugliness.“ He came closer, slowly, his gaze lingering on Jungkook as if he wanted to see through his illusion and see his real form. “I‘ll show you what a siren really looks like...“

He took the knife from the other sailor and pressed it against the upper part of Jungkook‘s thigh where the blade would sink in easily into the soft flesh. He gave him a cruel smile before he put a little more pressure on the blade…

Jungkook screamed, choking on the cloth in the process. He tried to breathe, he really tried but there was just so much pain. His whole face contorted, tears streaming down his face as he tried to get away from the knife. His knuckles turned white from how tightly he held onto the rope he was tied to. Jungkook closed his eyes, not wanting to see anymore. He just didn’t want to exist. To not be this thing that people thought they could claim ownership over. He never wanted this. Jungkook choked painfully, crying out helplessly.

The glass splintered on deck as it fell out of Yoongi’s hand. He had come on deck to check on the siren and what he saw made him question his mind. His crewmembers were standing around Jungkook - and the way it looked they were torturing him. It was silent after the clash of the glass and some of his shock must be visible on his face because most of the men quickly withdrew or tried to avoid his gaze. Not all of them though. He could also see defiance and hate. And fear.

“What.. what are you doing?” It took him a second to get his voice under control but when he did it sounded icy and demanding as it should be, not shocked and horrified.

“We’re trying to make fishboy show his real face!” Someone said, almost as if this was something to be proud of.

“By torturing him?” There wasn’t much of his clothes left and to his relief Yoongi could see that he was unharmed except for a wound on his thigh. He had come in time to keep Jungkook from worse. “He is important to me. He’s my possession! How dare you ruin what's mine!”

There was a whisper running through the men but not everyone was buying it, “He’ dangerous! Who says that he hasn’t bewitched you already?”

Yoongi got close to that man, really close and then stared him down. “My weapons are also dangerous. Do you want to keep me from using them too because they are dangerous? How about I show you how clear my mind is and how efficiently I can put what’s mine to use. What do you think, guns or daggers?” The man looked at Yoongi for a few seconds longer before he lowered his eyes in shame. “Forgive me captain. We weren’t thinking..”

“You weren’t!” Yoongi interrupted him harshly. “And if someone disrespects me like this again and lays even a finger on my siren then I’ll allow him to eat you. While you’re alive.” He took his knife and cut through the roped that were holding Jungkook up. He was so angry that it didn’t take him long to get rid of them. Jungkook flinched hard with each cut, scared that it might hit him. He whimpered quietly, his eyes flickering up at him frightfully. Yoongi reached out for him, gripping his arm tightly just like he had done before and Jungkook once more stumbled after him.

“I thought he might…” A young pirate with dark hair murmured a few feet away, watching the scenery unfold from where they sat. “What? That he tries to run and jump into the water to escape?” Hoseok cocked up an eyebrow and held onto control wheel steadily, “I know we all tend to get a little crazy, seeing the same thing all day…but Tae, don’t believe everything Jimin is telling you.”

“Hey!” Jimin snapped his eyes open, propping himself up on his elbows as he had laid down at the back to take a nap while they were using the wind to let them sail peacefully. “I told him many times it’s just tales that Namjoon is telling me. Maybe we we’re all just a little drunk last night…poor boy. He looks so sweet. Pirates are stupid,” Jimin pursed his lips into a pout and leaned back again.

“Jimin, you’re a pirate.”

“Well, at least a good looking one.” He waved them off and closed his eyes again.

…

Jungkook gulped hard, the cloth preventing him from taking deep breaths, so instead they quickened. He was a sobbing shivering mess, scared of whatever the captain would do now, staring back at him with big, doe eyes while trying to catch his breath.

Jungkook was sobbing and gasping and even though it was utterly, utterly stupid Yoongi came to a halt. He would probably regret this, but he really hoped that if Jungkook bewitched him now Namjoon would use his mind to save his ship before they all drowned themselves. Though the siren was sobbing, actually crying and it might be a trap, but it was a real good one because Jungkook looked so miserable that it broke Yoongi’s heart. He loosened the knot at the back of the younger’s head so that he could pull down the scarf and Jungkook could catch his breath. He was shivering and as Yoongi wasn’t sure if from shock or from the cold he placed the boy down on his couch and turned around to get some clothes.

“Don’t run. You won’t get far.” He casually told him while rummaging through his clothes until he found a white linen shirt with wide sleeves and some soft brown pants. “Here, you can wear that. There was still blood on Jungkook’s thigh and Yoongi furrowed his brow. “Wait a second…” He took a clean cloth and some of the alcohol he had been drinking to dampen it. It was the best disinfectant that he had - even though it would hurt like hell.

Jungkook didn’t say a thing, instead he just followed Yoongi’s movements with his eyes warily as if any second he could jump on him and he needed to be ready. He whimpered quietly when he came closer with the cloth, closing his eyes as he waited for the pain. It pierced right through his wound and Jungkook pushed the palm of his hand over his mouth, closing his eyes as he muffled his own screams.

When Yoongi was done, Jungkook was a shaking mess and the urge to give in and just curl in on himself was too big to withstand. He barely managed to dress himself, eyes glazed over, cheeks red from crying. Not sure whether he was allowed to lay down or not, Jungkook tried to keep upright. He hadn’t even realized where he was and that the captain had brought him into his private cabin.

“Are you alright?” It was a stupid question because a simple look at the younger’s shaking form answered it, but he had hoped that Jungkook would tell him he was fine because right now Yoongi was still scared. But not for him. “You’re not going to die on me are you?” He brushed back the younger’s hair so that he could see his face better. “Do you need water? You need water, right?” He turned to get some water from one of the barrels he kept in his room but when he turned back Jungkook had sunken in on himself. “Jungkook?”

He felt nauseous, the dizziness making it harder for him to stay seated, so he leaned over the armrest, his chest heaving heavily. “Of course, I need water,” Jungkook answered breathlessly, “I’m still human, you idiots.”

Yoongi stilled - and then he broke into laughter, relief washing over him. For a second he had thought that his men had broken him but there he was, wounded and hurting while still giving him an attitude.

“Excuse my ignorance about deadly mythical creatures oh beautiful siren. But I am just a simple pirate, unable to grasp your full entity.” It was incredibly easy to forget the dangerous that lurked in Jungkook when they were the only ones around but maybe that was exactly what being a siren was about, making humans trust them despite their knowledge that they were dangerous - until it was too late, and they were just another siren meal. Or food for the fish. Or whatever else sirens did with all the drowned people. Jungkook shook his head. “But just asking would have been a way instead of assuming, you know, instead of imprisoning me right away. You wanted to see what I do. I showed you and I stopped, just like you asked me to.” Jungkook reached for the cup of water, gulping it down hastily. “By the way if you even try to sing a single note you’ll be back up on deck in no time. And I don’t want to find out what else they’d do with you. Do you?” The pirate eyed the younger with furrowed brows.

“I told you I am not here to harm anyone…you’re the one hurting me! You kidnapped me! Remember? Not the other way around.” He leaned his head back down onto his arm, pulling his legs up on the couch. Jungkook closed his eyes and it seemed like he’d fall asleep any minute, but then he snapped them open again. “Oh, and I don’t eat humans. That’s disgusting!”

Yoongi jerked at the sudden comment though before he could react to it Jungkook’s body went lax again as the younger fell asleep.

“Jungkook?” When he didn’t get any response he carefully nudged the boy’s shoulder. “No humans, hu?” He whispered, more to himself than to the sleeping siren, “Wait - if you eat fish is it cannibalism then?” He shook his head. Somehow what he had heard and read about sirens didn’t quite fit for the young boy who seemed half scared, half mouthy most of the time. Carefully Yoongi pulled up Jungkook’s lip to see his teeth and the younger groaned, hiding his head in his arms before continuing to sleep as if nothing had happened. No shark teeth or anything the like. It would be really difficult to eat a human like that.

“Maybe you aren’t grown up yet,” He continued to wonder aloud. Because Jungkook definitely had powers it just seemed as if they didn't bring him love and admiration and food and whatever else a siren got with their magic but just pain and loneliness instead.

A/N: Yay! A new story begins! This time it takes us on a pirate journey! We really hope you will like this one and you have as much fun reading it as we had fun writing it :D Don’t forget to leave us a comment or message on how you liked it and think what’s going to happen next!? Oh and don’t forget to check out the Gifset Trailer for this story to get a feel for the aesthetics ;) <33

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barathe0nstark · 5 years

Text

Between The Words//Gendrya

“You were supposed to be the one person who knew me. Really knew me. Gods, we grew up together! That time we spent when I was a girl, travelling, exploring, adventuring. That was the happiest I’d ever been. Still the happiest I’ve ever been.” Her eyes were shining now, dancing in the firelight, though she was still as a statue. “You-“ she began, not daring to look at him, even now. “Even though I wasn’t yours, you were my family.” A tear fell. He wanted nothing more than to brush it away. “And then you left me.” Her eyes grew hard once more, the chip of ice finding its way back into her voice.

this was inspired by a prompt/gifset from @gendrybaratheonn which you can find here. full story below the break.

The hall stood as it always had, huge, warm, imposing. And empty. Empty, save for its owner, seated alone at the centre of the high table, dreaming of his forge and fighting with the treasury figures in front of him. If not for the training his past wars had given him, he may not have noticed the shadows shift slightly out of the corner of his eye. However, he knew better than to ignore a moving shadow. Let alone one whom he loved. His heart stopped in recognition as she stepped out into the light, watching him rise to his feet, face an unreadable mask.

“What are you doing here?” He breathed, words sharp against the still night.

“What, I don’t even get a hello?” There it was. That voice. Gods, the nights he had spent dreaming of that voice.

“Hello.” He said, flat, steady, stronger now. “What are you doing here?”

She stood, silent, his unanswered question hanging in the air. He knew his eyes were flashing, surprised by the anger threatening to overflow inside him. The distance between them stretched for miles, though they were the closest they had been in years.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She stated,

"Given the circumstances I think that’s understandable.” He said, not attempting to keep the edge out of his voice, still rooted to the spot. A silent questioned passed over his eyes. What do you want?

“Is it a crime to visit an old friend?” She asked, fingers playing with Needle’s hilt. Careful. He let out a mirthless laugh.

“Is that what we are?” Don’t do this.

"What else would we be?” Don’t make me, then.

”Three years, Arya. Three fucking years. And you didn't even say goodbye. I don’t think that’s how you treat a friend.”

"Language, my lord." he wanted to strangle her then.

"Apologies, Lady Stark. I fear the years have made me coarse.” He straightened his back.

"Don't call me that." the response was automatic.

”Fuck you." he shook his head. It came out far gentler than he had intended. Her breath

hitched, but she stayed silent. "Why did you come? Why now?" why couldn't you let me forget you?

"I wanted to see you." she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want to see you?" he breathed, the ice he commanded to cover his tone melting with every word. She smiled sadly at him.

"You were happy to see me last time.” Of course not, you stupid bull.

“Stop it.” This isn’t last time, and you know that.

“Stop what?” It was her turn to flash in anger. “You’re the one who fucked it up."

“Excuse me?"

"'Be the lady of Storm's end' he says. 'None of it will be worth anything if you're not with me' he says." she stopped momentarily, staring him dead in the eye. Of course I remember, you arse."Clearly that was bullshit, Lord Baratheon." You kept it.

“Apologies, my lady, but seeing as apparently the idea of being my wife was so horrific you felt you had to travel to the end of the earth to get away from me, I don’t think you get to call bullshit.” What did you want me to do?

She stayed silent. He held up a hand - defeat or surrender? She didn’t know. He couldn’t decide - and sunk back down into his chair.

“Essos.” She said, suddenly, words cutting through the darkness once more.

“What?” He asked, genuine confusion seeping through his tone.

“That’s what’s west of Westeros. Essos. The world has no end. It goes round and round in a circle.” Much like us, apparently.

“Is it awful that half of me is almost glad?” He asked, the ghost of a smile playing around mouth. The first one she’d seen. “Knowing you, if the world really did have an end you’d sail right off it to see what was on the other side.” she shook her head, her own half smile forming at his assessment. “I-“ he started, not meeting her eye. “I am sorry, though. I know how much you wanted adventure. How much you always wanted adventure.”

She looked at him for a moment, a shadow passing across her face as its expression shifted from the smile of a moment ago, to remembered pain.

"Why, then? Why would you ask me?” She whispered. He immediately knew, his own expression faltering.

"I wanted you with me.”

"You wanted me to be your lady."

"Same thing."

"Gods, you're an idiot. You truly don’t understand what you were asking me to do.”

“I was asking you to be my fucking wife, Arya, what else is there?”

“No, you were asking me to be Lady Baratheon. To simper and preen and wear pretty dresses and bear your children and sit with you in this castle, day in, day out, losing my mind and resenting every second. You were asking to me to grow to hate you.” the floodgates had broken now, and he stood, letting it wash over him. “You were supposed to be the one person who knew me. Really knew me. Gods, we grew up together! That time we spent when I was a girl, travelling, exploring, adventuring. That was the happiest I’d ever been. Still the happiest I’ve ever been.” Her eyes were shining now, dancing in the firelight, though she was still as a statue. “You-“ she began, not daring to look at him, even now. “Even though I wasn’t yours, you were my family.” A tear fell. He wanted nothing more than to brush it away. “And then you left me.” Her eyes grew hard once again, the chip of ice finding its way back into her voice.

“Arya, I-“

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare tell me you didn’t mean it, Baratheon, I swear I will run you through right here in this hall.” She hissed. He flinched. Not at the death threat, in fact it gave him comfort. But hearing his last name, said with such venom from that voice he’d missed so much, he swore that was the steel in the heart she had promised. She stood up abruptly. “My apologies for imposing on you, my lord. I won’t make the same mistake again.” His eyes closed as he watched her, nimble even in anger as she stalked towards the door. He loved her so much in that moment he thought he would explode with it.

“Arya.” He said, in a tone so tender she stopped in her tracks. “Stay.” Be with me.

“You will never know how much it hurt. Saying no. Leaving you there.” I can’t do it again.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You had a choice all those years ago.” You chose to leave me behind.

“So did you.” He said, softly.

“No, I didn’t.” You didn’t give me one. Piercing blue eyes locked on clouded grey. “And the fact that you think I did is the reason I had to leave.”

“I know.” He said emphatically. Her eyebrow twitched in confusion. “I’m not angry that you said no. I was never angry about that. I’m angry that you left before I could apologise. Gods, Arya, all I ever wanted was you. I wanted Arry, the tiny little urchin I met all those years ago. I wanted Arya, the woman I met when I came to Winterfell to fight the Others. The woman who defeated death itself and still came out looking like the most beautiful creature this ridiculous blacksmith had ever laid his eyes on. I never wanted Lady Stark of Winterfell. Seven hells, if I’d wanted that I could have married your sister.” He stopped for breath, looking to her out of the corner of his eye. “I know who you are. I always have.”

“Then, why-“

“I was drunk.” He said. He swore her eyes rolled back into her head. “You know I only ever wanted a name to be worthy of you.”

“You were always worthy of me. I loved you since I was twelve years old.” I still love you now.

“Not in the way that mattered. Not in the way that everyone cared about.” I know.

“Fuck everyone! When have we ever cared about everyone?”

“Everyone matters, Arya! Do you honestly think that your family would have let you be with a lowly blacksmith from Fleabottom who couldn’t read or write?”

“You can read.” She said softly. He shook his head, not breaking.

“When Daenerys legitimised me, my only thought was ‘Finally. Finally, she doesn’t have to be ashamed. Finally, we can do this properly.’” I can love you the way I want to. “So, yes, I got overexcited and drunk and high on survival, and I made a mistake. The biggest fucking mistake of my life. But then you left. You didn’t even let me explain.” He finished in almost a whisper, sinking down on the edge of the table, unable to meet her eye.

“I’m sorry.” She finally spoke. He looked up in disbelief.

“You’re what?” He breathed.

“I shouldn’t have left. Not like that. You of all people deserved more.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry too, for earlier. It was just a shock. You get used to silence in a place like this.” I’ll always be happy to see you.

“I should have known better than to ambush you like that.” She perched beside him, fingers brushing over a tiny carved acorn in the edge of the table. She smiled to herself. Of course you will. I couldn’t even be sure you’d be alone, I don’t know what came over me. Your wife could have been with you-” she was cut off by Gendry choking on the wine he had been drinking.

“Wife?” He spluttered, disbelief etched on his reddening face. A laugh played around her mouth as her eyes narrowed playfully.

“Yes, wife. Lady Baratheon of Storm’s End, first of her name, warmer of your bed and bearer of your children.” She took the cup of wine from his hand as she reeled off the imaginary title, not letting herself look at him.

“She sounds lovely.” He said drily, some of the humour dripping off his voice. “If you find her, do let me know.” The tension hung thick around them for a moment.

“There’s really nobody? You’re-“ she began “You can’t really have been alone all these years.” She said, genuine disbelief coating every word.

“Well, not truly alone. I have Davos, he’s always around here somewhere. Taught me to write, so now I can do both.” He smiled slightly. “And there’s the people down in the village. I have a forge there still, never could give it up, and I refused to let them make me one up here. I go down there when I can, and mostly they’ve stopped bowing and scraping.”

“But, no-“

“No, Arya, no fucking wife.” He snapped, sharper than he had intended.

“And nobody-“

“Oh, seven hells, did they. Banquets upon banquets, one blonde air headed highborn after another. I’m sure they were all lovely enough, but they made me want to set myself on fire. After half a dozen or so tries, I think everyone gave up. They should have known better than to try in the first place.” They should have known there was nobody else.

“You shouldn’t be alone.” She said, after a breath, voice small but clear as day. He sighed, a silent battle waging in his head.

“Stay with me then.” Like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“You know I can’t-“ Please, don’t, not again. She was almost pleading, eyes beginning to shine and flicker once again. He moved slowly so he was in front of her, taking her small hand in his own, her tiny white palm fitting perfectly in his dark, calloused one. She stared at them, intertwined, apparently holding her breath.

“All those things you said before. Those things that you thought I was asking you to do. I would never ask that of you. I never want you to simper or preen, or sit on your arse all day, miserable. I want you to be wild and free and fierce and spar and argue and do everything you’ve ever wanted. And I want you to do them here. Do them with me. Be with me.” He implored her, any vestige of anger gone now, love soaked his every word. She could see it. She always could. He wore his feelings etched on his face, clear as day.

“Gendry, I can’t be a lady. I can’t be what you need.” Her voice was catching.

“Stop telling me what I need. I know what I need, I need you.” He was more insistent now, pulling her off the table to meet him, taking her other hand in his.

“But I can’t be a Sansa-“

“I’m not asking you to be Sansa!” He cried, thumb rubbing over hers. “I’m not asking you to be a Lady, I’m asking you to be you, with me. Because I love you. I’ve always loved you, I will always love you. Arry, I’m yours. Completely, utterly yours, until my last breath.” His thumb reached down to brush away the single tear that had fallen across her cheek, almost no space between them now. She smiled softly.

“You were supposed to be angry with me.” She whispered. “You were angry with me.”

“I can never stay angry with you. I would have followed you off the edge of the world, if there was one.” He smiled. She laughed at that, as he softly let his forehead fall against hers.

“I love you too.” She said. The words were like a jolt to his heart, warmth spreading through him. “Do you mean it?” She asked, words feather light and brimming with emotion.

“Of course.” This time, it truly was the simplest thing in the world. “Arya, do you want this? I don’t want to force-“ he was cut off by her mouth on his. Once he started kissing her, he no longer knew how he had lasted all these years without it. She tasted of home, of warmth, of light. He could feel her tears still, as his hand moved to cup her cheek. She broke away from him, eyes still shining, but with a warmth he recognised from so many nights on the road.

“I want this. I want you. I want to stay.” She breathed. He broke into a smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“For how long, m’lady?” He asked. She smiled up at him, biting back her retort.

“As long as you’ll have me, my lord.” Forever

#arya stark #arya x gendry #gendry waters #gendry #gendrya #game of thrones #gendry is an idiot but honestly when is he not .#got #got spoilers #post canon #literally d&d fucked our babies so hard even my shit writing might be a comfort #some angst #actually quite a lot of #angst #oneshot #not my prompt #but definitely my writing #prompt credit given #i literally love them so much i cant

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holydepths-blog · 5 years

Note

✩ watergate :3

this took too fucking long

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? i feel like emma cos she’s more angry dramatic and he’s more emo dramatic but i was also gonna say he probably should to accomodate for his heightWho threatens to leave but never actually does? neither of them, they’ve both left one another repeatedly. Who actually keeps their word and leaves? both of them, see above. Who trashes the house? i don’t think either of them … i can’t see him ever doing it but if he did she would kick his ass things need to be NEAT Do either of them get physical? basement gate tease ! but no … it’s soft …. that’s been erased from my memory … they’re emo not violent How often do they argue/disagree? all the time but about #dumb shit nowadays … used to be more serious but now? you like chocolate ice cream better? … idiot Who is the first to apologise? if they had a penny for every time mickey has apologised to her both of them could quit their low salary jobs and move to france

Sex:

Who is on top? bold of u to assume they aren’t both switches Who is on the bottom? ^Who has the strangest desires? Any kinks? mind ur fucking business … snuggling is a kink Who’s dominant in bed? i don’t think dominant has ever been in either of their vocabulary where’s the john mulaney gif abt soup in the lap … regaurdless … probably he has to be she’s babyIs head ever in the equation? she suck the dick for free and mickey is a good boy, he knows how to go down on a womf If so, who is better at performing it? i don’t know how sex works is it easier to eat thrussy or suck a dick … they both try the only thing that matters is that once he said she was better at sex than [ redacted ] Ever had sex in public? private public … like not dressing room public but like, romantic lookout in a car public … hope no coppers come 2 shine their flashlight Who moans the most? idk if this is my sexism or my lesbian but women should, legally, be required to moan more than menWho leaves the most marks? he better swallow his masculinity and get used to concealer but i feel like that wld not be an issue for him, king ! he can’t borrow hers though it won’t match Who screams the loudest? WHO YELLSWho is the more experienced of the two? mickey. fucking duh. Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? they make love :3Rough or soft? soft … unlike his penis How long do they usually last? haha 8 seconds joe goldberg tease? idk how long sex even lasts in general …. solidly average is my guess Is protection used? he better wrap it before he taps it my girl cannot afford plan b . so yesDoes it ever get boring? not …. boring but ….. consistent. when emma gets too drunk she asks odette for sex advice bc she doesn’t want to bore ickey Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? nowhere is strange if ur brave enough.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? …. yes ….If so, how many children do your muses want/have? she wants 27 children actually but literally anything from 1-30 will suffice …. they need a lot of help on his inevitable farm Who is the favorite parent? mickey is the fun parent so u already know who it is Who is the authoritative parent? REMEMBER the clip i sent u from the marky mark movie … she’s always the bad guy until he gets #fedup and he has to remind her that she’s not doing it this time AJSDKF Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? honeslty both of them unless emma hoards all the candy … selfish Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? both of them they make fucking SIGNS …. its a little league game u dont need to paint the football stripes on ur faceWho goes to parent teacher interviews? they both go but mickey is better at them because emma always goes into teacher mode and tries to talk about Who changes the diapers? mickey does he’s a NURSE he is not grossed out , she is . baby poop is rank Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? where tf is that gifset from prison break when u need it … she does but only because she hates diapers and it’s only fair to pop a tiddie out every night for ur kid in exchangeWho spends the most time with the children? ummmm FAMILY FUN NIGHT x Who packs their lunch boxes?Who gives their children ‘the talk’? mickey he is obligated as a medical professional she don’t teach sex ed …. Who cleans up after the kids? emma but only because she’s a neat freak Who worries the most? both of them try to pretend they’re VERY cool and nonchalant and this is actually very easy until one of them cracks (probably her) and they both worry together constantly . solidarity babey ! ….. moreso her tho u cannot change my mind Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? auntie odette change my mind we said FUCK watergate lives , emdette rise

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? both of them …. constntly …. disgusting Who is the little spoon? [ jake peralta vc ] everyone likes to be the little spoon, it makes them feel safe ! LOOK HERE buddy …. he is and i dont take questions , even when he was 10 ft Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? can he fucking keep his hands AWF …. thats coming from me not emma she appreciates it Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? both of them …. its CONSTANT … hand on the shoulder , touching someone’s back as u walk past …. SOFT ! n then the one gif u sent from superstore where amy slaps jonah’s ass that’s emma How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? they actually fall asleep cuddling and wake up complaining abt falling asleep in a uncomfortable position… shut up abt ur back pain ur not 80 Who gives the most kisses? KISS kisses …. he. but know … she’s always kissing him on the cheek What is their favourite non-sexual activity? this is gonna sound g*y as hell but stay with me here ………. just being in the same place , even when they’re doing diff stuff . TOGETHERNESS …. vomit time Where is their favourite place to cuddle? the couch , i retract my statement about them not being 80 they actually fall asleep watching tv Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? casually ? she … to actually initiate eye emoji ? he How often do they get time to themselves? all the time , they know 2 other people

Sleeping:

Who snores? he does im hcing this for ur own character If both do, who snores the loudest? she doesn’t SNORE she’s a lady Do they share a bed or sleep separately? they’ve been in 200 different stages of relationship ……. OTHER than depending on that , she sleeps better w him there :3If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? they start far apart cos she’s a blanket hog but she always ends up next 2 him Who talks in their sleep? she mumbles sometimes ….. its nothing coherent What do they wear to bed? she owns 47 different stupid size xxxxxxxl shirts that were 2 bucks from walmart and wears only that . i bet mickey owns a bathrobe, bourgeois pig … Are either of your muses insomniacs? idk she reads a chapter of whatever dumb shit she’s reading and has tea or wine and conks out ….. idk his business Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? idk abt taking them and ik its not the point but shes anal retentive abt keeping medicine in the medicine cabinet so THERE BETTER NOT BE Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? AS I SAID … they start out on opposite sides of the beg and end up more tangled than tangled (20whatever) Who wakes up with bed hair? his hair is floofy ,,,, Who wakes up first? i feel like that depends on his shifts …. she wakes up at the same damn time every week day …. weekends though she sleeps in for 10 yrs so him Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? emma tries and he has to leave bed anyway because the fire alarm goes off What is their favourite sleeping position? she prefers it when she has all the blankets Who hogs the sheets? she does Do they set an alarm each night? they have JOBS does she look like pippa to u Can a television be found in their bedroom? yes so she can cry over dumb rom coms over somewhere other than the couch …… he’s invested in them , change my mind Who has nightmares? i already know ur about to say he does so im calling the cops on u end of story Who has ridiculous dreams? all of emma’s dreams are indistinguishable from bad acid trips Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? she sleeps in the fetal position he seems like a sprawler …..Who makes the bed? emma …. its gotta be CLEAN and if he ever says “why make it we’re just gonna sleep there again” its on SIGHT What time is bed time? whenever she passes out , always before midnight , considering they’re 72Any routines/rituals before bed? i bet they brush their teeth at the same time to see who can do it faster like they’re five year olds …. or that gifset from new girl where he’s like “ u read my walking dead fanfic ? ”Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? emma takes three cups of coffee to be able to be her CHIPPER self ….

Work:

Who is the busiest? she has like a 6 hour work day so he for sure Who rakes in the highest income? i just googled nurses versus preschool teachers and he makes twice what she does …. laughs nervously …. glad she’s going back 2 school but elementary teachers STILL make less …. mr talbot got COIN ! Are any of your muses unemployed? no , freeloading is ILLEGAL Who takes the most sick days? i feel like the two worst jobs to go into sick are a literal hospital with immunocompromised people and a preschool with toddlers who dont wash their hands …. equal maybe Who is more likely to turn up late to work? despite her original beef with odette in the apocalypse verse emma is NEVER late to work Who sucks up to their boss? she cooks dinner , a nice LASAGNA for whoever to heat up and mickey has to break it to her that making whoever her superior is eat what tastes like glue will in fact , damage their relationship What are their jobs? hes a nursey boy …. shes a teacher Who stresses the most? about life in general? her. about work? probably him. he’s dealing with LIVES she’s got the alphabet Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? they better they aren’t getting paid enough to hate it Are your muses financially stable? they’re not rich but they’re not dying and that’s what matters

Home:

Who does the washing? emma because it relaxes her Who takes out the trash? he better , she does not like to LOOK at things once they are thrown out … its smelly Who does the ironing? neither of them have ironed anything in their lives Who does the cooking? HE HAS TO IDC if he isn’t fuckign gordon ramsay she’ll kill them Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? emma Who is messier? if he leaves a single sock on the floor he is automatically messier than her Who leaves the toilet roll empty? that’s satanic neither of them Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? he does …. its just not REALISTIC that she does Who forgets to flush the toilet? that’s gross ……hopefully neither ….. DISGOSTEING.mp4Who is the prankster around the house? anything STUPID is hers and hers alone but i feel like he’d do something relatively innocent and it would go HORRIBLY wrong like , hey emma come get y’all juice ….Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? despite being organized in every other aspect of her life emma has never kept track of keys in her life its a disease Who mows the lawn? he does , he shld do it shirtless so she can objectify him Who answers the telephone? mickey, she truly stares at it hoping it’ll go away Who does the vacuuming? emmaWho does the groceries? she would make HORRIBLE decisions ,,, he shld make the list and she shld get it Who takes the longest to shower? no sexism but she’s a girl Who spends the most time in the bathroom? see above

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? yES like … they can afford groceries , make rent , but for literally every american except jeff bezos money is a problem in some area . this isn’t a hc just a capitalist hellscape How many cars do they own? two …. neither of them are very nice cars Do they own their home or do they rent? rent unless/until he gets the farm of his dreams Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? countryside thats where FARMS are … but like rn , coast cos there’s the ocean in town Do they live in the city or in the country? see above bbgDo they enjoy their surroundings? the goats of the future and the noisy neighbors of the current and past eras both leave something to be desired , but in general yes What’s their song? not to go all modern au but remember when stereo hearts was on their 2011 mixtape AJSKDF …. issa bop and its arguably the most cutesy singable on the playlist What do they do when they’re away from each other? bitch idk ? exist as human beings ?Where did they first meet? idk she probably met him for coffee or sum before moving in together to make sure he wasn’t a serial killer How did they first meet? they were roommates … oh my god they were roommates …. she prolly put an ad in the paper very lucky she did not get murdered x Who spends the most money when out shopping? i feel like neither of them are big spenders but her sticker and colored pen budget is larger than it should be Who’s more likely to flash their assets? i thought this was talking about tits for a second but im assuming mone ? they keep it humble Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? they both do , bullying one another is a bonding experience Any mental issues? more than you know my guy Who’s terrified of bugs? if she sees a SPIDER she floors it , but she releases most other bugs …. he better kill anything w 8 legs tho Who kills the spiders around the house? mickey , as described above wow im psychic Their favourite place? they can make any place work together … gay but true , just like me Who pays the bills? she has a special binder just for taxes Do they have any fears for their future? all the fears actually Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? she cannot cook but she has 10/10 ordered takeout , put it on plates and been like :the happy version of the pensive emoji yk the one: i cooked it while the reciept is still on the counter Who uses up all of the hot water? thats very selfish she wld never but she also showers first bc she doesn’t trust him not to ….. Who’s the tallest? they , in american , are the SAME HEIGHT ,,, fuck centimeters Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?Who wanders around in their underwear? clothes are oppressive let them both do it coward Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? it probably turns into a competition until they’re both singing at the top of their lungs …. omg watergate you’re gonna burst a vocal cord oh my god they can’t hear us they have airpods in What do they tease each other about? literally everything …. one of them BREAHTES wrong and the other is like “ ah didnt realise the asthma express was in town “ Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? mickey literally dresses like the fresh prince so u already answered that for me Do they have mutual friends? can the real jack detler please stand up Who crushed first? she ……. did not immediately fall in love with him let me tell u , it took her some solid MONTHS to realise she was in deep for his bitch ass Any alcohol or substance related problems? i wld hope not , #stubie twWho is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? them , together , for getting kicked out of the bar for singing Who swears the most? neither ?

#vampiresmiled #004. emma / phillips » all posts.#006. emma / phillips » featuring mikhail.

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Dream Baby Dream

A/N: So Charlie’s latest movie, Jungleland, is an ABSOLUTE MUST-SEE!! It’s so fucking lovely 🥺😭🥰 Whether you’ve seen it or not, I hope you’ll enjoy this little one shot, based on the below request that I got! It’s all kinds of angsty and smutty and fluffy. (Title is a reference to the Springsteen song played at the end of the movie!) **This fic is SPOILER-FREE**

Pairing: Stanley Kaminski x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, reader gets pregnant, gifs of Charlie in his underpants 😋 Request: This lovely request (p.2) for pregnancy/smut with Charlie’s character from Jungleland!

Word Count: ~3.1k

Important Note: The first line of this fic is a line Stanley says in the movie (scene shown in the gif above and in this gifset) – yes, loves, an actual quote. So if you’ve not yet seen this film but are a fan of Charlie Hunnam, I promise you this scene is reason enough, to watch if only just to hear those words from him... 🤤

***************

“I like the way they make my dick look.”

... Is he serious? Yes, definitely is. One drink was all it took, for you to know. He walks and talks like someone straight out of an old forgotten book or an obscure off-Broadway show. As if his whole life is imagined, yet for him the fiction feels so fucking real that it’s the only thing he’ll ever understand.

“I like the way they make my dick look”? What the fuck? You’d just paid him a half-joking compliment on his ridiculous sweatpants. But this is a man who takes jokes for the truths they expose. Mama always told you to avoid men like this—cons and crooks—men who crush their own hearts in their fists, steal their strength from the shadows, to run from their weakness. She knows best, and knows that you can’t. Knows that you turn to dust in their hands. But she’s not here to witness.

No, nobody is.

You take another shot, tossing away what little self-restraint you’ve got. “Dare you to tell me just how many times you’ve used that line.”

The fucker flashes you a smile. Cheeky smirk, the only kind that suits his style. Cheap as dirt. Just like his stupid ugly shirt. “Hey, if I had a dime...”

Rolling your eyes, you suck the sour from a slice of lime. Can’t seem to chase away your thirst. “How many times did that shit work?”

“Well, let’s just say you wouldn’t be the first...” he whispers, leaning close to take the lime in his own fingers, squeezing it without reason till every little pulp ruptures and bursts. “Wanna fuck you so hard it hurts.”

***************

Is it the best sex that you’ve had? Hell fucking no—not even close. It’s pretty bad. Probably the worst.

It’s almost gross. Feels like you’re stuck in a low-budget porno. Just a mess of theatrical thrusts. Heated groans, grating deep in his throat. Grabby hands. Somehow you know that he could fuck you so much better, though, if only he stopped trying to put on some kind of show. You doubt he even knows he can.

“Ugh, just—” you grit your teeth against each thrust. “What are you even doing, Stan...”

He groans out loud again. “Screwing you like a fucking man.”

That tasteless statement almost makes you want to laugh, but you bite back the urge. “No, that’s not how it works,” you mutter as his hips spastically jerk, massive dick splitting you in half. “You can’t—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he rasps, ravaging your ass with a rough series of slaps. Pulling your hair, making you arch your back, wrapping one hand around your neck until you choke. The sex is so damn close to being epic if this man would just stop acting like a joke. Like, really close, which honestly doesn’t seem fair. “You’re not supposed to talk when you’re taking my cock. Supposed to be too drunk to care.”

Oh God—he’s even dumber than you thought. He should’ve counted that you’d only had a couple shots. “Yeah, well, I’m not.”

“As fucking if,” he huffs, taking the hint that you’ve had quite enough. Reluctantly rolls off. Finally stops fucking you over. And that’s when you realize you miss it, although it feels strange to admit. He turns aside, tucking himself in tight under the covers like some kind of scorned lover. Spurned and burned so many times it makes him sick. “That’s bullshit and we both know it. Sober, a girl like you wouldn’t have touched me with a ten-foot stick.”

That gives you pause and breaks your heart a little bit. How is this man already getting at your heart, damn it? Mama would say he’s creeping in there with his crooked claws and all that shit. You can’t let yourself fall for his theatrics. Is that even what this is? Somehow, you sense the weight of more than just his body on the mattress; your heart feels heavy now, but not nearly as heavy as his.

“A girl like me? Seriously, what does that even mean?” you ask, reaching to run your hand across the faded scars and bruises on his back. Noticing how he flinches as if your soft touch is a savage attack. No doubt he wishes that you hadn’t seen. No wonder somebody so damaged really thought you wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot stick. “Stanley, you are honest to God hot. And plus you’ve got an almost-ten-inch dick.”

He reacts with a snort, and a shake of his head. Scooting out of the bed, shrugging into his hideous shirt. All the scars on his back and his heart safely hidden inside it. “Doesn’t matter if it’s big. Apparently I can’t use it for shit.”

Without bothering to put pants back on, he settles on the couch across the room. You move to follow him, unable to resist when he looks so cute sitting there. Raking your fingers through his ruffled golden hair. “That’s not a problem we can’t fix—come back to bed with that big dick. You just have to get out of your head. Just a bit.”

That’s a notion he’s quick to dismiss, though you notice he’s no longer flinching away from your touch—which means something, you’d bet. It must. Nevertheless, Stanley snickers at what you said, struggling to keep his facade firmly set. “Out of my head? Bitch, I live in it.”

You don’t doubt it. Just want him to try stepping out of it. “Just for a minute.”

Lucid blue eyes look up at you now like you’re seeking to push him past some lifelong limit.

“Damn, what’s it like in there...?” you wonder aloud as you comb through his hair. He’s a poem, a portrait of someone who doesn’t believe he’s a man. Soul has never known any true home. Heart has been locked away for so long that he thought it could never be freed. Head full of dreams, broken and bursting at the seams. His silence fucking screams. “What do you really want, Stan? Really need?”

And you can tell he’s scared, to dare believe you really care. “...Nobody ever asked.”

There’s a whole world behind his words. Woefully true. Yet a whole other world now opens up before the two of you, with yours. “Well, then I’m glad to be the first.”

Of course you asked. Of fucking course. You barely even know him now, but can already tell somehow... you want to love this man so hard it hurts. Truly glad that you were the first. Already want to be the last.

***************

Fucking months have gone by in the blink of an eye. And already you love him so much you could die.

He’s never fucked someone who ever gave a shit about him, so he gets a rush from knowing that you cannot live without him. And the feeling goes both ways, needless to say. He’s always looking at you like his first glimpse of the sacred light of day. And always seems afraid you’ll run away, no matter how wholeheartedly you reassure him that you’re here to stay. That he should never doubt it.

Still he’s just crippled with this unshakeable fear of fucking up and everything falling to shit, just as it always did. Of losing love now that he’s finally fucking found it. Stanley’s past is a ripple effect of the failures and losses that constantly kept him desperate and dishonest, and it’s fucking haunted. Can’t help but dread the day it’ll rear its monstrous head and make him pay for ever dreaming he could have the kind of life he’s always wanted.

The most that you can do is hold him close and fuck the pain away, and love him more than words can say. His dreams are beautiful, you tell him. They deserve to see the light of day. With you he never has to act like he’s some character straight off the page; he doesn’t have to be afraid to feel. To fear that all the demons in his soul are real, and full of rage, and fierce enough to kill him. ‘Cause now you’re finally here to hold him and to heal him.

All of his dreams once revolved around his intense bond with his brother. For so long, his heart never had room for another. He tells you often about Walter. The fighter. ‘Lion’ as it were. The whole life that they lived for no one but each other, till one day the champion boxer abandoned his gloves to vow love at the altar.

And Stanley is happy, that Lion has found a new family. A new life as boundless and bright as the sky. Such love as an overbearing older brother could never provide. Though Stan knows that the door’s always open for him, to be part of that family and part of that life... he won’t take Lion up on the invite. Tells himself that the home that his brother has built is too precious for someone so poisoned to set foot inside.

You fuck the poison and the pain out of his veins a little bit more every night. But you know it’s a big fight; you won’t try to push it or rush it. Just guide him and stay beside him as the shadow slowly turns to light.

So what’s left to dream now? Somehow your lover tells you his deepest secrets and desires without ever breathing a damn word aloud. Like the fire’s so fragile a whisper could blow it right out.

Tells you and shows you through passionate, powerful kisses, devouring you with the heat of his mouth. Through the touch of his tough calloused hands on your skin, softly treasuring every last inch, devoting his whole broken heart to the moment in such breathless silence... then driving inside you with vigor and violence, the lion inside him awoken and roaring out loud. Slow and gentle again, at the end. Once you’re both well and truly fucked out. The soft look on his face and his tender embrace expressing just how grateful he is that you taught him to fuck, and to love, without playing pretend.

Is it the best sex of your life? Hell fucking yes. Without a doubt. Every damn day, every damn night. Far and away the fucking best. The kind of sex starry-eyed poets strive and fail to write about.

Stanley Kaminski is a living, breathing, tragic, magic little poem. But he is also very real, thanks to the love that you’ve allowed his heart to feel. Beating so beautifully now that it’s finally healed. And he’s become your fucking home.

***************

“Babe, you up?”

You weren’t until he spoke. The sun is only barely just; as he so often does, Stan beat the day before it broke. But you don’t mind being awoken by the man you’ll always love. More so than ever now because... you have some news to share today, bound to blow him the fuck away. In the best way, you hope. And trust.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, shifting in bed, lifting your head to see him seated by the window far across the room. Gaze lingering upon his gorgeous features gilded by the glow of dawn. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing at all, for once, he wordlessly responds. Smiles at you before he glances back outside, watching the sun begin to rise, as if its light promises everything he wants.

“Today’s gonna be good, baby,” he states, blue gaze so wild and bright he looks a little crazy. “I mean, I can see it. I can see our future when I close my eyes.”

It’s almost like he knows what’s coming, in the next moment. Maybe he does? Your souls are intertwined so close you wouldn’t really be surprised. “Well, looks to me like they’re wide open. Why you even gotta close ‘em?” you reply, stretching your arms out with a peaceful sigh. All set to break the news you would’ve shared with him last night, if only he hadn’t come home and fucked you so epically hard that you just went out like a light. “Stanley, I...”

“Shouldn’t have woken you up, actually,” he interrupts, somewhat unnaturally. Crosses the room toward the bed, to hold your head up, kiss you slow and deep. Then turns to leave. “Love you—sorry. Go back to sleep.”

You pause and blink your bleary eyes. “What? Why...?”

“...‘cause it’s a special day and I’m cooking up a surprise.”

Although that’s super cute... you don’t exactly like the thought of Stanley making food, to tell the truth. You almost puked, first time he tried. He has a lot of skills and virtues, but his cooking isn’t one of them, unfortunately. “Babe, I told you there’s no need to make a big deal of our second anniversary...”

“Yeah, but why’s that for you to decide?” he playfully retorts as he heads out the bedroom door. Shouting back at you down the hallway as he hastens away. “Besides, you’re gonna need something to build your strength up after getting fucked so good and hard last night. Stay put and don’t even try sneaking into the kitchen, alright?”

“Fine,” you sigh, figuring that you might as well listen. No harm letting your man do his thing in the kitchen. You just hope that he won’t be offended if you can’t hold down what he’s serving... especially now that your body’s especially prone to hurling, for reasons that he just unwittingly stopped you from sharing with him.

You can picture him trying to cook, looking so adorably domestic as fuck. So damn cute it hurts. Standing there over the counter in his fugly turtleneck shirt, glancing up every few seconds, just to make sure his girl doesn’t walk in on him while he’s busy at work.

Absentmindedly scratching at his lower back with his wandering fingers, as he shuffles over the cracked tile floor in his raggedy slippers. The ones that he stole from some random hotel years ago. Why he chooses to wear a long-sleeved shirt and slippers, when he can’t be bothered to put on a damn pair of knickers, even in the middle of winter... you don’t even know. It’s such a fucking Stanley thing to do, though.

You can picture the low-hanging hem of his shirt getting stuck in the top of his briefs as he scratches his back. While he just carries on with his business, oblivious, focused on whipping up some sad excuse for a breakfast that will most likely make you gag. Your man can’t cook for crap, and you’re certain that he’s well aware of that fact. So what gives? Where’s he going with this...? You wonder as you wait in bed, enamored with the image of him in your head.

GIFs by uuuhshiny

When he finally returns to the bedroom he’s holding a steaming white mug in his hand, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from grinning like a madman, for reasons that you can’t even begin to understand.

“Okay, listen, Y/N—before you say anything...”

You can already smell the unholy concoction he’s got in his cup, and you’re struggling so hard not to throw the fuck up. “Stan, is that what I think—”

“Hear me out,” he begs, squatting down next to the bed. For some reason he looks all at once shy and proud. “I want you to remember our first time together. The morning after.”

You nervously swallow and nod your head. He can’t really expect you to put that ‘breakfast’ in your mouth—doesn’t he know you’ll spit it right out? You just try to focus on the heartwarming words he just said. “Babe, you know I won’t ever forget. But is that...”

“Yes, it is. Kaminski’s specialty hot shit. The mess I used to make for Lion every day for breakfast. The only family that I ever had, until the day we met.”

You pause at that; is it just a coincidence now that he’s talking about you as family? Surely he knows somehow, what you’re about to tell him now. You want to just tell him already, so badly. “Stanley...”

“Just let me say this. Please,” he murmurs, shifting where he’s squatting on the floor, repositioning his knees. “Tonight I was thinking of taking you out to some nice swanky place I can’t even afford... would’ve tipped the waiter off to drop a little something in the fancy French champagne we ordered...”

Your heart stops as it hangs on his words. Why is he suddenly... down on one knee...

“But I thought maybe this would mean a little more,” he continues. “Baby, I cooked this for you, the first morning I ever woke to the most beautiful view... because a part of me already knew. I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything before. I was already fucking yours. I never would’ve made this crap for anyone but family—that shit’s sacred to me. And now I know, deep down, that’s what I always wanted you to be.”

“Stanley...”

“You had to dig through so much shit, inside of me, and stole my fucking heart right out of it. Still can’t believe you did. Still can’t believe you think I’m worth it. Scared I’ll wake up any second just to see that this was all some crazy dream.”

Your heart is bursting at the seams. “Believe it, baby. You’re worth everything to me. I’ll dig through all that shit again, if it means being with you in the end.”

He holds the cup out toward you like the treasure that it is. “That’s what it means. That’s what I’m asking you with this. Dig, baby, dig.”

You love this man so much more than you can believe. So much for him thinking that you would never touch him with a ten-foot stick.

Your hand dives straight into the mess to find the ring and scream out yes. Stan smiles and wipes the excess stuff off on his sleeve, then slides it carefully onto your finger as you shower him with kisses. Honestly couldn’t be happier right now that someone else is here to witness.

And he needs to know it, right this fucking minute.

After he takes your newly bejeweled hand in his, blessing it with a kiss... you take his hand in yours and press it onto the surprise that you’ve been harboring inside. Your secret little Stanley. “So... you know I had something to tell you as well, right? I’m not the only one who’s so happy about this. Happy to be part of your family.”

His eyes go wide, the brightest light you’ve ever seen. “Y/N...! Y/N, does—does this mean...”

You answer with a smile as big as his, and seal the promise with a kiss. “Dream, baby, dream.”

***************

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cooper--jones · 7 years

Text

Beanies and Stardust (ch1)

Betty always thought she knew what she wanted - a white picket fence life with a certain red haired best friend. However, when Jughead Jones, Archie’s mysterious writer friend, moves in with Archie, suddenly her goals aren’t exactly the same anymore. Word Count (per chapter): 1.3k

ff.net // ao3

A/N: This is today’s submission for 10 days of bughead. i can’t be bothered to make a gifset and i’ve been working on this fic for weeks now so i’m posting the first chapter. thanks for reading! double line breaks means change in pov ~ 10 days of bughead ❥ day 8 ~

Fuck. I’m late.

Betty Cooper thought as she jogged up the stairs to the third floor – where Archie lived. She glanced at the text she had got:

Meeting. 7:00 – A.

And she was nearly half an hour late.

It was her fault, though. Work had been a bitch and it didn’t help that her boss seemed to insist on making her life a living hell. And she couldn’t even complain to Veronica because her boss happened to be Reggie Mantle – aka the guy Veronica was currently passing her time. To his credit, Reggie seemed to really like Veronica. The same couldn’t be said for her raven haired best friend, though. Every time Betty asked how things were going with them, Veronica would just tell her that the sex was great. Betty didn’t know how to tell her that wasn’t what she was asking about.

Glancing down at her watch, she whispered a final ‘fuck’ to herself before rapping on Archie’s door. She didn’t even need to knock twice – the door swung open, revealing Archie.

“Betty – finally!” He exclaimed and Betty instantly flushed with embarrassment.

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry. I just had some–” her eyes fell on Veronica sitting on the breakfast bar.

“–work stuff,” she finished, thinking of how she had spent the last hour going over various tablecloths with Reggie, deciding which one Veronica would like the most. Although Betty would never have pegged him for it, Reggie Mantle was a romantic at heart. Betty admired that he cared so much but also wished it didn’t mean she had to stay for an hour when she could have been back home taking a shower.

“It’s fine, come in. Coffee?” Archie held out a cup of coffee. Betty was stunned. Usually, the latecomers didn’t get coffee. Well, unless the latecomer was Veronica. It warmed Betty’s heart to hold the coffee. Even if the coffee itself was somewhat cold at this point.

“Thanks,” she muttered, leaning against the breakfast beside Veronica. Kevin walked out of the bathroom and his eyes lit up at seeing Betty. She smiled and raised her coffee at him in greeting.

“Okay, Archie, we’re all here. What news did you have?” Veronica asked, kicking Betty’s side lightly in greeting.

“Well, you guys know my friend, Jughead Jones?”

“You mean the one you’ve mentioned at least once every day since coming back from France?” Kevin asked, making Betty chuckle. Archie rolled his eyes but seemed to forget this annoyance almost immediately because a wide smile replaced the annoyance.

“Well, he said he’s moving to Riverdale. Says he’s hit a block in his writing and wants to see if Riverdale can help him. He’s going to live with me which means he’s going to be a part of our little community here!” He finished with an odd flourish and Betty couldn’t help smiling at his excitement about all of them meeting this Jughead Jones. Betty hoped Jughead was just a nickname.

“Archie, um, are you sure about this? I mean, the last roommate you had…” Veronica trailed off and Betty was thrown back to the night before Archie left for France.

“Archie, you realise that this is the most I’ve seen of you, right? I swear, ever since Cheryl joined as a partner–” Valerie’s voice soared out of the open window beside which Betty stood, listening on the fire escape.

“What exactly are you implying?” Archie interrupted.

“Exactly what you think I am.”

“Valerie, there’s nothing happening between me and Cheryl.”

“Then why am I getting emails from her saying otherwise. She seems to believe she’s going to steal you away. And, frankly, I don’t blame her. I mean, she got you that big promotion and now the trip to France. Don’t you see it, Archie? She’s buying you so you’ll stay with the company. Until a month ago you hated your job. Now suddenly 'it’s not that bad’?”

“Val, the only reason I’m going to France is because I think it’ll be good for me – for us. I mean, if you were in my position, with everything Cheryl’s doing for me, what would you do?” Archie asked and a disbeliving silence followed.

“If you have to ask, Archie, you don’t know me at all,” she said and another long silence followed.

“Whatever. Do whatever you want, Archie. Just know that I don’t want any part of this. So, if you want to go to France, go. But I won’t be here when you return. And don’t – don’t call me,” she said and, a few seconds later, Betty heard Archie’s lock click into place.

“It’ll be fine, Ronnie. For one, I’m not dating Jughead so what I do shouldn’t – and won’t – concern him,” Archie said, pulling Betty out of memories.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Veronica said, shrugging. Betty could hear the uncertainty in her tone and noticed Archie’s crestfallen expression at her lack of support. So she did what she did best – she put on a big smile and, moving to stand beside Archie, said, “I, for one, can’t wait to meet Jughead.”

The smile she got from Archie made this false support completely worth it.

“See? That’s the kind of spirit I’m looking for! I really think you guys will love him – he’s great,” Archie said, putting an arm around her and pulling her close.

“Well, I’m always ready to meet new guys. How sure are we that he’s straight?” Kevin said and Veronica laughed, the tension immediately dissipating. Archie laughed and shook his head.

“Sorry, buddy – you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself.”

“Aren’t you dating someone, Kevin?” Veronica asked, tilting her head to one side. And just like the atmosphere reverted to the fun one it always was.

Jughead Jones stared at his laptop. The blank page before him mocked him. The bestsellers stacked beside his laptop mocked him. The entire atmosphere he had created for his writing was now mocking him. After all he could think about was how his life had been until just two days ago.

The vase still lay a broken mess beside his dresser. He didn’t want to mend it – it would make everything real. The broken vase somehow made it bearable. To know that there had been some collateral damage. Even if it was simply because someone bumped against the dresser by mistake.

“I’m leaving,” she said, making his flying fingers stop immediately. He turned around, staring at her in disbelief.

“For vacation?”

“For… ever.”

“T… I don’t understand…” he stumbled forward, toward her, and the vase crashed and shattered. They both jumped when it happened.

“I’m sorry, Jughead,” she said, and left.

No answers. No closure.

He cursed the day he had met Archie Andrews. That idiot was the reason the last four months had been bliss followed by complete garbage. So why was he sitting here, staring at his inbox, waiting for Archie to reply to his email about staying with him at Riverdale? And why did he feel like a weight was lifted when Archie seemed more than happy to let him stay with him. He also got a list of people he was warned would be constatly flitting in and out of the flat.

Kevin Keller and his flatmate Veronica Lodge. And the upstairs neighbour Elizabeth (Betty as we call her) Cooper.

When Jughead looked them up, Elizabeth (Betty as her friends called her) Cooper was by far the most interesting. She had worked as a primary reporter for the local newspaper and then, somehow, she had given that up and now worked as an assistant to a Mr. Reginald Mantle. This seemed like a demotion to Jughead but he figured there was a story here he didn’t know.

Over the next three days, he packed as much as he could and, finally, with three bags outside, he glanced at his little apartment one last time. His manager had offered him a bigger place (he could afford it) but he believed in the smaller the better. Big places made him feel alone and now, he was thankful for the tiny flat. France was the longest he had stayed in any place.

Well, Riverdale, here I come.

#bughead #bughead ff #10daysbughead #bughead fic #bughead fanfic #rahel writes things #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #riverdale ff #riverdale fic

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softjeon · 5 years

Text

The perfect Illusion | Pt. 5

• Pairing: Geisha!Jimin x Namjoon | Side-Pairing: Geisha!Jungkook x Yoongi • Genre: Fluff / Angst | Geisha!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 10k | ↳ AO3 • Disclaimer: mentioning of abusive behavior

*** please note that this story doesn’t mean to represent accurate geisha tradition, it was solely inspired by the beautiful art form, giving it a modern twist in a fictional universe and therefore has been dramatized for entertainment purposes.

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ He was the perfect illusion. The getaway for anyone who didn’t want to face reality. And yet, there was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and hopeful as if he was dying for someone to see through him, to care for him enough to look behind the mask and draw out the real Jimin. And Namjoon couldn’t wait to do exactly that.

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Leaning against the banister of the staircase, his eyes looked over the still empty theater room. Pursing his lips, he narrowed his eyes to observe closely as a few young men prepared the tables, setting everything up perfectly - just like he ordered. Hoseok was proud of his establishment. More than that. It was his everything.

His father had started this business with the intention of bring back the tradition and mixing it with beautiful new art forms. The perfect fantasy brought to life.

A smirk was securely placed on his lips as he walked down the last steps and further into the main room, making sure everything was perfect before the show would start. They didn’t have those exclusive shows every week, but only one per month. He wanted it to stay exclusive, just for those men and women who could afford it to be a member of this club. His eyes scanned the stage quickly, his gaze getting stuck on Jimin who was going over a couple of last steps with Jungkook.

One of his geisha had been getting sick to his despair and now Jungkook had to fill in his space as he was the closest of being one. Even though Jungkook should have been the one he watched to make sure that he would do it right, Hoseok couldn’t tear his gaze off Jimin. The younger’s movements were so fluid, so beautiful and he prided himself in the knowledge that most of it he learned from him. Jimin was his golden hummingbird, the one who brought the people in and Hoseok wouldn’t let him go. Not for a million bucks. He chuckled to himself. Not that anyone wanted to pay a million bucks to get Jimin out of here anyways.

With a smile, Hoseok turned on his heel and made his way along, the anticipation and excitement rushing through him as he thought of the many tips that would come flowing in for Jimin only to go right into his own pocket.

The geisha’s eyes followed Hoseok’s back for a little while, until Jungkook’s voice shook him out of it. He quickly smiled and began showing Jungkook the steps again. A month had passed so quickly and now it was only a week left for Jungkook’s mizuage. Everything was prepared and yet, everything was still a mess inside his heart.

Namjoon visited him as much as he could and both of their schedules allowed and Jimin couldn’t help but miss him dearly everyday. He wondered if Namjoon did the same. Smiling to himself, Jimin was gone in his daydreams, thinking about Namjoon again. Sometimes when they were alone in the tea rooms, they had intertwined their hands carefully and Jimin had a habit of playing with Namjoon’s fingertips. Their goodbyes at the end of every tea ceremony were getting harder and he wished he could just hug Namjoon, staying in his arms. In a way he was proud of himself that he still could keep his geisha persona up to a point. But the aching to touch Namjoon, to kiss him not only on his cheek (which was forbidden but he did it anyways) and to hold onto him and lean his head on his chest was growing bigger and bigger. He didn’t know what this was, nor was he sure if Namjoon felt the same for him. Inside of him was a garden blooming with all the flowers that Namjoon had planted inside of him. He was hoping, dreaming a lot more than he usually did, his mind gone and he wished to be somewhere else. Sometimes even someone else. Maybe meeting Namjoon would have been easier then. But dreams weren’t meant to come true, not in Jimin’s life.

Still he tried.

Taking on more customers, trying to get as much tip as possible, working even harder to pay off his debt than usual, ignoring the exhaustion that settled deep inside his bones. He sighed deeply, linking his arm with Jungkook as they made their way backstage to get themselves ready for the night. Tonight he would portray the perfect fantasy once more.

...

Namjoon and Yoongi had both taken their seats already. They hadn't watched one of the bigger performances since they had been there with Mr. Ling when Namjoon had seen Jimin dance for the first time. He was looking forward to it even if it meant having to watch from a distance instead of getting the privilege of being up close like he had in their private sessions. It would definitely feel different now that he didn't only see the outer beauty but everything else Jimin had shown him of his personality so far. Yoongi besides him nervously fidgeted with his tea cup. Jungkook had told him that he would dance a full on Geisha dance tonight and the youngers nervousness had somehow transferred over to Yoongi as if they were one heart in two people.

“Is he here? Did you see them?” Jungkook was nervously jumping from one foot to the other, making Jimin go crazy while he tried to fix the belt around his waist. It was a miracle already to make something like this stay on Jungkook’s tiny waist.

“I don’t know...stop Jungkook,” When the younger walked ahead, Jimin still trying to figure the perfect knot to keep it together, Jungkook took the curtain that separates the backstage area to the main room and peeked through. “He is here, Jiminie. He is here,” Jungkook bit his lip in excitement, a small gasp coming from his lips when the belt was tied tight around him. “Jungkook, come back please. If Hoseok…,” Jimin stopped and his eyes widened when he saw Jungkook wave towards Yoongi with the biggest smile. He quickly grabbed the youngers wrist and pulled it down and him behind the curtain, giving himself just a second of a glimpse towards Namjoon. It was enough to see that both men had suited up handsomely well tonight. “Calm down, please. You should focus!” Jimin reprimanded Jungkook and pushed him back into the room, while despite him better knowing, stole another glance himself. The make up he wore hid the blush that appeared, but the smile was evident nonetheless when his eyes fell on Namjoon’s. His heart skipped a beat.

"But how can I calm myself when Yoongi is here to watch my first real Geisha dance? I'm not even considered a grown up yet and still I'll dance a grown up dance for him. It all makes so much more sense now that he's found me. Before dancing was nice and I always enjoyed it but now it has meaning and...you're not listening, are you?" He wasn't mad, quite the opposite really because he hadn't seen such a hopeful and longing look for a long while in Jimin’s eyes.

Jimin could have stared at Namjoon forever, if it wasn’t for the sudden call of his name. It all shattered Hoseok called out for them and Jungkook quickly straightened, schooling his face into a more neutral expression while casting down his eyes. Hoseok cleared his throat, cocking his head aside with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Jimin…”

“I...I was looking for you,” Jimin quickly explained, bowing his head respectfully and let Hoseok step in behind the curtain with him, “The youngers are very nervous and I would have liked for you to talk to them before they go on stage.” Jimin gulped heavily, but kept his sweet smile as he lied right in Hoseok’s face, watching him pass them.

“I am listening,” Jimin spoke softly, taking Jungkook aside with him, while Hoseok was talking to the young maikos. “It’s good that you feel like this, but you’re still here...still a maiko. You’re not supposed to wave at people. Y-you have main room service tonight and I’ll bet Yoongi will be there to wait for you, then you can talk to him all night, okay?” Jimin held onto his shoulders, his voice barely a whisper to keep Hoseok from eavesdropping. The geisha felt exhausted, tired and definitely wasn’t keen on keeping Jungkook from another punishment if something went wrong. “You’ll be free from this soon. I promise. Then you can do whatever you want with him...if you’re a geisha...you’ll get a lot of money, pay off all your debt. Tonight is important, because Hoseok already send out the invitations. They know your dancing tonight. They will watch.”

Jungkook's expression turned worried. Up close Jimin looked even more exhausted despite the make up. He could see it in his eyes, the downwards shape of his mouth, the tight line of his shoulders. "Minnie, are you okay?" Normally he didn't use the nickname when others were around but it slipped because of how worried he was. Over all bis excitement he had forgotten how much trouble Jimin was going through for him with all the extra training for bis mizuage, the extra shifts to make sure he could see Namjoon and the stuff Hoseok had him till midnight sometimes. "I'm sorry if I'm stressing you out. I didn't mean to. I promise I'll take care. Just look out for yourself tonight, okay? I'll manage, I swear."

Jimin shook his head, “It’s okay. You’re not stressing me out...I’m just...I think I’m overworking myself a little.” The geisha soothed over Jungkook’s arm when the music began to play for the first dance, trying a smile. “I know you’ll be fine. I just…,” He stopped, his eyes flickering over to Hoseok who watched the show from the side and to the other geishas. “I want you to be happy.” Placing a hand on Jungkook’s back like he always did, he motioned for them to walk to the side of the stage, because Jungkook’s number was next.

“But then you need to take a break, Jimin. I don’t want you to get sick.” Jungkook was staring helplessly at Jimin, while simultaneously getting more nervous for his stage. “I don’t have a choice,” Jimin whispered, “I want you to have a different fate than I do. My debt is only getting deeper but yours isn’t.” The geisha smiled at Jungkook with tear filled eyes, “Please show them how good you are tonight. That you’re worth more than any of us...even if you’re not a geisha yet. I don’t want my money to go to waste.” He pushed Jungkook slightly, nodding towards the stage, while the applause of the previous performance was still going on. Jimin had never told Jungkook about this, how he had always shared the money he made to give some of it to Jungkook’s fond. To pay off for him.

Jungkook didn’t belong here and the geisha had realized this a long time ago. The younger was too innocent, wonder still in his eyes that he didn’t want to be ruined. Unfortunately Jimin couldn’t keep him from the mizuage. He had tried. He really did. But it became so much harder, their debts only deeper. Jimin was daring to dream again, for himself, for Jungkook. And it was all because of Namjoon. A weak smile was secured on his lips. That’s why he tried even harder, working even more to gain more tips, keeping Jungkook out of trouble. Jimin couldn’t count the times he said ‘put it onto me’ to Hoseok, for something Jungkook did. Some might have said it’s heroic how he cared for Jungkook’s life more than his own, but Hoseok just called him stupid. But now that Jimin knew, he couldn’t keep Jungkook’s mizuage from happening, he could at least make sure that he wouldn’t have to stay in this establishment for far longer.

“Not long and you’ll be free and then you can be with Yoongi, I promise.”

If Jungkook had known he would have rebelled against Jimin's sacrificial habit immediately. The younger had no idea though and he knew that Jimin had a few more years of "living costs" in his debt account so he knew he had it "better". He had similar ideas than Jimin though, he wanted to work hard and gain lots of tips to get out of the teahouse, then find a job quickly and earn enough money to help pay Jimin's debt. Although it was what he dreamed of he was scared of the thought alone because he had never known anything outside of here and although he knew the rules of the tea house perfectly and all the dances he was supposed to known he had no real qualities that would make it easy for him to get a job. When the lights changed and the music followed Jungkook quickly banished every thought that wasn't about the dance he was about to performance and then stepped out on the stage. He indulged himself with one last look at Yoongi before casting down his eyes and gracefully getting into position.

Jimin watched Jungkook from the side with a smile on his face. The younger was giving it his all, pouring out his emotions in the dance while he was mesmerizing the audience. “Have you thought about teaching a new maiko, Jimin?” Hoseok’s voice send a shiver down the geisha’s spine, his muscles locking up instinctively. “I could let you earn a bit more if you teach more than one, you know...I see you working so hard, babydoll.” His fingertips stroke along his neck and down his shoulder, but Jimin shook his head nonetheless, trying to will away Hoseok’s touch. There was no way Jimin could go through this again and even if Hoseok offered him more money for teaching another maiko or two, it would only leave him with a broken heart again to see someone grow to become someone’s fantasy. He didn’t want that anymore. He just wanted to get out of here. Run away and into Namjoon’s hold.

“I see. At least you always will be mine. You won’t leave me my sweet little hummingbird? Not even for a handsome businessman, right. Always mine.” A kiss was placed right behind his ear and Jimin stood still, his eyes wide, whole body screaming to finally be freed of his touch. To others it only looked like he was whispering something in his ear, a sweet little promise or order to do well, for Jimin it was hell.

When Jungkook came off stage and rushed to his side, it felt like Jimin was in a daze. He smiled towards the younger, wanting to tell him how good he had been, how beautiful he looked while dancing when he stumbled onto the stage himself. For a moment Jimin felt utterly lost on the big wooden stage, trying to find his position. Hoseok’s words repeating itself in his mind over and over again. He began to dance, moving to the music smoothly - only that Jimin felt nothing. Absolutely nothing but exhaustion. The amount of hours he had been working to pay off Jungkook’s debt to make sure the younger would be out of here as soon as possible.

God, he was so close, so so close.

The way he tried to pay off more of his own, doing extra work and extra training, taking on even more customers just to be able to see Namjoon again. The heartache. The longing. The worries about Jungkook, his mizuage, Yoongi and...Namjoon. Jimin spun around, his gaze flickering over to him as he spotted the handsome man in the audience as if his eyes knew exactly were to search for him. The urge to just jump down and into his arms was overwhelming him and in midst of his next turn, Jimin tumbled, tearing a gasp from the audience as he fell down.

There was an awful sound, a thump from when Jimin’s knees hit the floor and then the sound of something tearing as the force of Jimin’s fall ripped the delicate silk at the seams. There was a rupture on his robe all the way down his side now and when Jimin tried to get up it gaped open, showing off his undergarment. There were murmurs in the crowd, hushed whispers, someone chuckled. As Jimin just stood there and didn’t move the music felt suddenly wrong and too loud. Hoseok gave the sound technician a sign and the music faded until Jimin was standing there on stage, without music, trying to cover up his ripped robe, visibly shaken.

Namjoon had wanted to get up almost immediately but a hard, almost painfully tight grip from Yoongi hold him back. The older shook his head, a warning in his eyes and his lips pressed tight. Namjoon understood; if he would go to Jimin in front of everyone he would only embarrass Jimin further and definitely make it worse but he could barely take it to see him so lost and helpless out in the open like this.

The curtain fell soon after, leaving Jimin a shivering mess the moment he couldn’t see the audience anymore. Now there was nothing, but fear left. He had ruined another costume, had fallen and revealed too much in front of all the men that Hoseok had deemed important enough to invite tonight. Not once in his lifetime had he fallen on stage.

Not a single time.

Jimin still stood there, gulping heavily against the lump that he felt and the tears that threatened to spill over. Taking in a sharp breath and a step forward, Jimin felt the pain rush through his thigh, as if someone had beaten him up. It would definitely leave an ugly bruising tomorrow, that much he was sure of.

“Jimin!”

The geisha jerked at the sudden call of his name. One sounded angry, the other disappointed while another one sounded just worried. Jimin didn’t even make it all the way down into the backstage area, when there was someone groping him, examining the costume he had just ruined.

“How dare you embarrass me like that? It’s ruined! It’s fucking ruined!” It wasn’t clear if Hoseok was talking about the silk or the performance or his reputation but he sounded angry enough for it to be all three of them. Jin was pulling the robe off of Jimin without a word, he just roughly made Jimin hold up his arms so that he could look at it without having to grope Jimin any further. The gaze he sent Jimin’s way was pure venom. When he had examined it more closely he spoke up, voice sounding way too tight for it to be normal .

“That’s the second robe you went through this month. The second. Others don’t ruin that many in a whole year. You really care that little about my work? About the effort I put into each and every dress to make it fit you perfectly? The colors and embroidery I chose to highlight your charms and features - and you thank me by ripping it. On stage. As if you’re wearing some cheap handiwork that can’t even take a simple move. I think you should go out naked from now on. That would suit you better.” He threw the robe at Jimin who barely caught it and then left him standing there, while Hoseok was still ranting in the background.

Jungkook was standing at the side caught in between everything, not able to help Jimin in any way but unable to leave because he would never turn his back on Jimin like that. Sol he stood there, motionless while the tears were threatening to spill from seeing Jimin so under pressure, head hung low in shame.

“I…I am sorry,” Jimin was apologizing repeatedly, his voice quiet, feeling awfully small in this moment. He flinched with every time Hoseok was yelling at him, Jin’s voice tumbling over and he could do nothing but simply standing there, listening and nodding. “I know…I don’t know what happened…” Jimin shook his head, “I stumbled over my own feet. I am sorry.” He was still holding onto the robe until Jin stormed back in, a box in his hand that was filled with everything he needed to fix something in an emergency. Though the robe didn’t need that anymore. It was ruined.

“Wash yourself up and get into bed. I don’t think you should be working tonight. Jungkook, make sure he’s in bed, before you do service tonight. We’re talking about this tomorrow.” Hoseok’s order was clear and still it cut through him, making him want to say something, tell him how he was fine that he would be okay doing his usual appointments. But it was no use and the geisha let Jungkook pull him towards his makeup table, taking one of the wipes to caress softly over his face, with each stroke taking off more and more make up. One by one the geishas disappeared, leaving only the three of them.

Jungkook’s hands were warm and gentle on Jimin’s face but he couldn’t speak because he was crying, doing his best to not let it show so there were hot tears dripping over his face while he was still doing his work properly. It only was hard to breathe because it took so much strength and energy to control himself like that and not break into sobs as well. He wanted to help Jimin to make it all okay - but he couldn’t, he could only watch him hurt helplessly.

“You’re useless. In all those years, I never had someone that ripped that many clothes. You’re really adamant on staying here, huh? Well, you probably wouldn’t be able to make it out there anyway.” Jin’s voice was still audible as he examined the robe further. Jimin said nothing while Jungkook was taking care off him, both trying to ignore Jin’s ranting about the geisha’s fate. “You can be happy Hoseok even lets you wear this expensive stuff. If it would have been my choice I’d never given it to you…don’t know what he sees in you anyways.” Jimin bit his lip hard, closing his eyes for a moment to try and blend out what Jin was saying. When the other was finally gone, the robe carelessly thrown in aside, Jimin took a deep breath.

Only when Jin had turned his back on them did Jungkook dare to do something as intimate as hug Jimin, quick and short because he didn’t want to burden him any further but he needed to console the geisha so badly he felt like he would burst if he couldn’t make Jimin feel a little better.

Jimin took a hold on the younger’s wrist, smiling at him as much as he could. “Please, it’s okay. You can go and do your services. I’ll be fine from here…I will find the way to our room.” Nodding reassuringly, he motioned for Jungkook to go. Hesitating, the younger looked at Jimin, before placing a kiss on the top of the geisha’s hair. It was evident in the way Jimin ordered him to go, that he wanted to be alone right now and not talk about what had happened. Maybe he was ready to do so tomorrow, or the day after… Jungkook wasn’t sure but he would respect Jimin’s wish.

“Are.. are you sure you want to..?” When Jimin confirmed again he took his things and gave him a little bow because he didn’t know what else to do. He just hoped that Jimin wouldn’t stay here on his own and let it all play over in his head. He would wear himself down over it if he didn’t have someone to pull him out of his own head from time to time. He felt awful leaving him here like that. But if Hoseok would see that he wasn’t at his service he would punish him. Severely, considering the mood he was in. He wasn’t as strong as Jimin he broke so easily. “I’m.. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mean to yourself, Minnie.” He whispered under his breath before turning to hurry off to do his evening duties. “Call for me if you need anything, okay?” He added hesitantly, but the geisha seemed already far gone in his mind, staring into the reflection of himself in the mirror. So, Jungkook turned on his heel, opening up the curtain in a rush to get back to where he should be already when he almost let out a scream from getting startled, pushing his hand onto his mouth to muffle the sound.

“Namjoon!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, Kook.” Namjoon pulled down the curtain behind him to minimize the risk that someone would see him in here. Which would certainly be the worst right now, for Jimin as much as himself.

Jimin snapped around immediately at the sound of Namjoon’s voice, his blood-shot, puffy eyes looking at him fearfully and a little wary as if the other would tell him how disappointed he was himself and that he never wanted to see him again. When he came over, his eyes stared up at him, trying to search for the security Jimin always felt whenever he was with him.

Namjoon didn’t beat around the bush but instead went straight for Jimin, gently squeezing his shoulder (while everything inside of him screamed for a reassuring hug and anything else that would make him feel like he could protect Jimin for a while, if necessary with his body). “Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

“You’re not allowed to be here,” Was the only answer the geisha could think of, staring at Jungkook then back at Namjoon. “What are you doing here?” There were still tears falling down his cheeks while he talked and Jungkook stood a bit unsure at the door.

“I needed to see you, to make sure you were okay.”

Namjoon’s words ripped right through Jimin’s heart and the geisha just, honest to god, wanted to sob - but instead a sound coming from the other side only made him awfully aware of how easily someone could see them, could know about them. One more mistake and Jimin was done for. But he needed Namjoon now. More than anything else. And his gaze spoke a thousand words when he looked at him.

Jimin was in love.

Rushing over to Jungkook, Jimin leaned in, whispering, “Can you please take my clothes in my room. Please, Kookie, please.” When the younger nodded, Jimin wiped over his cheeks, kissing him there softly, telling him that they needed to hurry before Hoseok would do his usual check ups. Jungkook turned around to grab Jimin’s things, while the geisha wrapped his hand around Namjoon’s wrist to pull him along and to the steps that lead over the stage.

Namjoon send a thankful look at Jungkook who was helping them keep their secret once again and then concentrated back on Jimin. The boy looked even worse than he had feared though considering what a perfectionist Jimin was and how much he depended on an absolutely flawless reputation it was no wonder that the incident had shaken him. Even without pressure and with supportive people around you messing up on stage wasn’t nice. Though he doubted very much that Hoseok had tried to calm Jimin down. And he remembered how stressed Jimin had been about having to pay for a new robe last time. He was probably out of his mind with the added costs for this one.

Jimin didn’t say a word, just hurried over the now dark stage to the other side, opening a door that lead right to their private habitation. His hand let go off Namjoon’s wrist, only to intertwine their fingers as he motioned for Namjoon to keep hidden in the shadows, as they hurried towards the main garden. His gaze was flickering around in the dark, trying to spot anyone that could be out here tonight - but everyone was inside working. No one was allowed out in the garden at night. Especially no geisha in company with a customer.

Namjoon followed Jimin where he was leading him, trying to not make any sounds and alarm someone of their presence. However even shaken and with his view clouded with tears Jimin was the one walking light-footed ahead while Namjoon had some problems to be as quiet.

Jimin was panting, tears dripping down his cheeks as he pulled Namjoon all the way to the back of the japanese garden to a pavillon that one couldn’t see from afar, perfectly hidden in the dark. Opening the door with his key, Jimin wordlessly pushed the other inside and closed the door again, placing his hands against the wood to keep himself steady. Nonetheless, the sobs began to shake him from the core, making him slide down onto his knees as he desperately tried to keep a hold on himself.

Namjoon had waited for Jimin to bring them somewhere where they could talk. Though when he turned Jimin was on his knees, barely holding it together while his shoulders shook from the force of the sobs he tried to suppress and Namjoon felt like talking wasn’t that important right now. What the younger needed was support, maybe a hug, maybe to be held until he felt like he wasn’t at risk of falling apart any longer. So he carefully kneeled down next to him and then reached out to pull Jimin into his arms. The younger was stiff and cold in his arms and Namjoon wondered if the stress kept his muscles pulled tightly or if Jimin wasn’t used enough to being comforted so that he couldn’t relax that easily. Both were thoughts that hurt him because he wished nothing but happiness for Jimin.

Jimin didn’t know what to do anymore. Helplessly he shifted closer to Namjoon, wrapping his arms around his neck to hide in the crook, crying and holding onto him as tight as he could. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Jimin’s muffled cries were painful to feel against his own body, Namjoon’s hand soothing down the youngers back. It took awhile for Jimin to calm down enough to talk properly again.

“I can’t do this anymore. I wanted to be so good and he ruined it. He...he knew it would make me nervous,” The geisha leaned his head on Namjoon’s shoulder, soft little hiccups following his words as he tried not to sob again, feeling too tired. But sudden panic washed over his expression and Jimin pulled back, “He knows, oh god he knows. Of course he does and he won’t let me go.” Jimin gazed up at Namjoon, a faint, sad smile on his lips. Hoseok had known that Jimin was overworking himself to get more money, for Jungkook and for himself. He must have put one and one together, seeing how Jimin was eager to make sure Jungkook could leave and possibly be the next one. And even though his debt was way too high, the risk that he would lose Jimin not very much so, as it would take years for him to work it off with that workload. “Jin has always been on his side,” Jimin mumbled, holding onto Namjoon’s hand tightly as they sat on the floor of the dark pavillon, “I never fell before...and I don’t fall...I just don’t.”

Jimin’s words didn’t make any sense to him; he didn’t know who ‘he’ was and what Jimin was talking about. It was almost impossible to understand what he was saying through his sobs and tears but Namjoon was glad that the younger was talking to him at all so he just let him spill what was burdening him, hoping it would soothe the boy’s heart a little while he held him and stroked his back and that everything that he could to make the younger feel like he wasn’t alone in this. Only when the younger had calmed down a little, his sobs fading and the tears slowly drying out did he dare to ask further. “Will there be consequences because you fell? Are you scared because of that? Or are you ashamed?” He figured that it probably was something of both so he added, “You don’t have to be, okay? No one likes you any less for being human. You are still as graceful and amazing as a dancer as you were before.”

Nodding softly, Jimin wiped over his eyes with the fabric of his robe. “Of course, there will be. I’m a disgrace to them. I…I…’m not supposed to be human. I’m supposed to be perfect, Joon. No mistakes. No falling. Not me…I’m the hummingbird.” He hiccupped, sniffling quietly, “I need to pay it back. The robe. The appointments. The money he is losing because of me.” A painful sob broke from him and Jimin buried his face in the palm of his hands. “I’m back to the start. I tried so hard, Namjoon. I really did. But I’m just pathetic.” He was taking short, anxious breaths, his grip around Namjoon’s arm tightening. “I should have known. But he’s so close…Jungkook doesn’t have much left anymore. After his mizuage, if I work some more…then…maybe a week or two, then he can go. He could go, Namjoon.” He was looking at him, his red puffy eyes, pleading at him but Jimin wasn’t even sure what for.

Namjoon tried his best to soothe him but it felt like he was slipping from him further and further. “Jimin, you’re not a disgrace. Please don’t believe what they are telling you in here. I’m... I’m sorry that you had to grow up like that…,” He bit his lip, caught between his morals and trying to comfort Jimin. He wanted to end this. To keep Jungkook from being sold and Jimin from being treated like this. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t just give anything away for another person. He had a company there were people who relied on their monthly income which he provided. Risking the company would mean not only risking ruining his own but also Yoongi’s and all of his employees. It wasn’t fair. “Maybe... if you tell me how much it is you owe Hoseok I could give you some of it? Maybe it would help if you could start paying it off. You said it yourself you normally don’t fall. You will get there someday, Jimin. And even if Jungkook will chose to leave the tea house you won’t be alone. I’ll still be there. And I could take him with me so you could see each other or... I don’t know how we will do it exactly but we will make it work. I won’t leave you here alone you can trust me on this. No matter what.”

“Y-you will take care of him? If he’s out there…please, Namjoon. I don’t want to ask for more but please don’t let him walk the streets alone. You know, Jungkook. He’s an angel. He can’t…he needs someone to show him the way…at least at first. Please,” Reaching out for Namjoon, he cupped his cheeks sweetly with his small hands. “I don’t deserve you, Namjoon.” Jimin let the tears fall on their own down his cheeks, “But he won’t let me go. He made that clear tonight. Hoseok, he…he came to me right before the performance.” Mindlessly, Jimin wiped over the spot where Hoseok had kissed him, closing his eyes as he shivered trying to forget about the awful feeling, “He knows I’ve been working even harder. To get more money for Jungkook…and for myself. I never dared to hope again. But it was dumb of me to think that I could have this…a dream…you. Maybe it was never meant to be. Because no matter what I will do, he will find a way to make my debt even deeper. All my clothes are perfectly fitted, Namjoon…don’t you see?” Jimin couldn’t help to feel like he was going a little mad himself. “No matter where I start…what I try…it won’t be enough. He doesn’t want me to go, so he won’t let me.”

“Breathe Jimin, please, don’t let this swallow you whole. He can’t keep you in here forever. You will get out sooner or later. I can visit a lawyer if you want. Ask if there are any possibilities to break the contract. Maybe you can get out of the tea house and pay off your debt in monthly payments. This is not how your whole life is going to be. Please don’t do anything stupid. Whatever the consequences will be don’t stress yourself. If it will be five years or ten I will wait for you. And I’ll do everything to help you get out rather sooner than later.”

Jimin just looked at Namjoon with an empathic look, smiling, nodding whenever he was telling him a sweet hopeful new idea, but he had no hope anymore. “My whole life has already been this. I am sold to this house. There’s nothing a lawyer can do, nothing that Hoseok will let happen. He made it clear that I am his.” Shaking his head, Jimin shivered from the cold he felt. His heart was aching so painfully that it made Jimin gasp when Namjoon told him so lovingly that he would wait for him. Jimin averted his gaze, fumbling around with Namjoon’s hand, intertwining their hands just to let go again and repeat the motion. The geisha sighed deeply, trying to take deep breaths. “This is my fate. I had accepted it before, and I will learn to do so again. I’m just a geisha, Namjoon. You’re supposed to like me, what I portray, my dances, my whole being it’s…” There were tears cascading down his cheeks, but Jimin didn’t sob anymore, he just felt horribly lost and hurt, “I was dreaming that a kiss from you would make me more than what I am now, because you make me feel like I have so much more, that I am worth to be listening to…but I’m just that. Just a geisha and you’ve already spent enough money on me. It’s only going to waste. I don’t want you to wait for me.” Despite his words, Jimin held on a little tighter to Namjoon, feeling awfully lost in this moment, “You shouldn’t fall for a geisha.”

“So what you’re saying is that you want me to stop seeing you?” Namjoon could feel everything in him rebelling against the thought alone. But it wasn’t solely his decision to make. It was Jimin’s life they were talking about and he wouldn’t force himself onto the younger. If Jimin thought that returning back to his everyday life without Namjoon’s presence would make him feel better then how could he tell himself that seeing him was for them both? “If you’re saying all this to somehow ‘protect’ me in a way or because you think that there’s no hope then please don’t. Because there is hope, for as long as you are breathing there is the possibility for things to get better. And it is my money so I can choose what I spend it on. But if you think that Hoseok would leave you alone if I let go of you and if this is really what you want - then I’m sorry for pushing you so far. I didn’t mean to make it worse for you or to make you hurting because I’m showing you what you can’t have right now. If you want me to then I will leave you alone. It’s your decision. Your life, your choice.”

Jimin’s heart was racing. He felt dizzy and out of place, paling visibly. There was a storm of thoughts, one that was hurting his head and his heart simultaneously. It took a moment for Jimin to speak up again, the silence not even bothering him because his thoughts were so loud that he couldn’t think really. “Hoseok won’t leave me alone no matter if you here or not.” Wiping over his face, he caused it to grow paler than it already was. Outside, Jimin could hear the rain falling heavily onto the rooftop as if it decided to cry with him, to share his pain. “I don’t want you to go. I never wanted you to go. I wish it was you…I wish it was always you,” Jimin was crying again, shaking his head and pulling his knees in as if he tried to hide from something, or someone. “I want him to stop. I don’t want to be touched from anyone but you. But I’m chained to this, making you stay, is not fair. It’s not fair to you.” He gulped heavily, stilling completely while Jimin just felt completely exhausted, “I don’t know how to feel hope anymore. Namjoon, please…”

It was a horrible feeling to see the person he loved basically breaking down right in front of him and he could do nothing; nothing that would help Jimin right now that would keep him from having to go back to Hoseok and the main area later. “I’m here, Jimin. And I’ll stay for as long as you want me too. You are a beautiful dancer and you will pay off your debt - or I’ll pay it off for you whatever works first. And then you can move in with me if you want and you will never have to see Hoseok again. Ever. And you can forget that he’s ever... ever…,” He still couldn’t speak it out loud as if he would speak it into existence if he reminded Jimin of it and could keep it from being real otherwise. “Just dance, Minnie. Please, you can’t give up now.”

“M-move in with you?” Jimin blinked the tears away, carelessly wiping over his cheeks. His heart was still knocking hard against his chest, every beat hurt. He nodded slowly, reaching for Namjoon’s hand to place his cheek in his palm, to feel his warmth closer, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming this. “I don’t have anything, Namjoon. Nothing to offer…why are you here with me?” His voice was barely a whisper as he looked at the one he loved so dearly, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You don’t need to offer me something to be of value to me.” He had hoped that this was clear from how he treated him but apparently years of only being ‘worth’ something if you could earn money with it had done its damage. “I like you for who you are as a person. And I’m here because I miss you whenever I can’t see you.” He sighed, caressing Jimin’s face, “I don’t think that you can really assess what you ‘deserve’ and neither can I but I think love is something everyone should get so...maybe you can still accept mine?”

“Love? You…mean,” It took a small second to hit Jimin full force, his expression turning overwhelmed for a second. Namjoon loved him. He loved him. Just as much as he loved Namjoon. Jimin couldn’t take this any longer, he needed him closer, to feel what he always wanted to feel. Placing a hand on Namjoon’s chest, he could feel his heartbeat underneath, the words tumbling over, “K-kiss me, please.”

They were breaking so many rules by this and yet Namjoon couldn’t deny Jimin what he was longing for himself so badly. It only took a slight nudge to bring their lips together as they were already so close and then he could feel the plushness of Jimin’s warm mouth against his own. He tasted a little salty from the tears and it made him hold the boy tighter and kiss him more deeply. No one could take this from them, not this moment they shared and not their feelings. Jimin was pulling Namjoon over him, laying down on the wooden floor just to feel him everywhere over him. Jimin wanted to drown in him, because only in his hold did he feel safe, nowhere else but him. He needed to feel this, the protectiveness, the safety of Namjoon over him. “I love you,” The geisha whispered against his lips, kissing Namjoon back so eagerly and losing himself in his touch. “Why can’t you just take me with you,” Soft little pleads whispered into the kiss, questions neither of them really had an answer to, “I love you, only you, please.”

The sudden change in position had Namjoon gasping - and then he was on top of Jimin. He ignored the warning in the back of his head in favor of kissing Jimin again and again, he was drowning in it and he loved it. He wanted time to stop right here so that he could keep kissing Jimin forever, just the two of them with nothing else mattering. And then Jimin told him that he loved him too and Namjoon had to take a break from kissing him because he smiled so much it hurt but he couldn’t stop because Jimin loved him too. “I would, you know? Take you away with me. Kidnap you from Hoseok take you out of the country if necessary.” There would be police involved and he would be charged for kidnapping and stealing someone’s property (Cause that’s how those boys were treated when they were still in debt) - and still he would do it if Jimin asked him to, trying to run off with him into some foreign country that wouldn’t turn them in.

Jimin could have kissed Namjoon forever like this, entangled in his arms, dwelling in the love, the warmth that he was giving him – something he had never felt like this before. He was giggling softly, whenever Namjoon kissed down his neck, just to steal one more from his lips. He kissed the tip of his nose, making Jimin blush, then he kissed his cheeks and lips again. Namjoon’s hands felt so soft, holding him carefully, soothing over his side, whispering sweet promises in his skin. “Don’t stop, please.”

Jimin just kissed Namjoon again, deeper this time, pouring in his love and how thankful he was for him to spark this little bit of hope in him over and over again.

“But this is ours right? Those moments?” Jimin asked carefully, “Even if I’ll be here forever…you’ll come again right? I’ll try harder, do more…I promise. I do every dance show, every performance…” A sudden sharp pain at the side of his thigh let Jimin stiffen up, drawing in a painful gasp. “Of course. This is ours. I’ll be there for you.” He shifted his weight a little and that’s when Jimin gasped. He had his eyes forcefully closed; his neck bared as Jimin had reached for Namjoon’s wrist to keep it from soothing further down his thigh. “It’s okay…it’s okay…I’m fine,” Jimin took in a sharp breath, writhing underneath Namjoon, “I just haven’t looked at it, yet…”

It took Namjoon a second to realize that he was lying more or less on where Jimin had fallen and he immediately pulled away, trying to take a look at it but Jimin wouldn't let him. Namjoon sighed deeply but complied, keeping his hands off of Jimin’s thigh. “You have a doctor in here, don’t you? Can you promise me that you will make sure it gets treated? Not by you who would dismiss it and just ignore the pain but someone who actually cares for your body?”

Jimin bit his lip and nodded, “I-I promise.” He let Namjoon easily pull him in against him, as he leaned against the wall again but making sure he didn’t hurt the younger further. Jimin leaned his head on his chest, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s waist tightly (or as far as he could reach with how broad Namjoon and how tiny he was next to him).

“I can’t go without him.” He whispered, “I wish I could just run off, but Jungkook needs me here. I can’t leave without him. I can’t let Hoseok let his anger out on him if I vanish before him.” Jimin played with the hem of Namjoon’s shirt, “So, I have to make sure he gets out of here first. No matter what.” Looking up at Namjoon, he stole one more kiss from him. “I just need his mizuage to be fine, to give him enough money. That he isn’t an asshole…that claims him still after it’s over.”

“I get it. And as I told you I can wait. You can be there for Kook for as long as you need to be. And I’ll be there for you.” He watched as Jimin played with his shirt, lost in thoughts and so cute that he wanted to just pull him back in and never let him go. “Claim him? What do you mean? I thought it was only allowed to buy someone in their mizuage night and then never again no matter the event? Isn’t that what tea houses advertise with; that they have beautiful people as trained and educated and pure as they could be?” It was an affront to compare a tea house to a brothel, Yoongi had told him that. He still had a hard time thinking of the coming of age ritual as anything else but sex work but he’d understood that everyone else didn’t. “I’m sure he will be safe. And you can stay here until he’s out of the tea house. That’s totally fine.”

“L-like that he wants to have him again. T-the one who paid you…t-they have some kind of ownership over you, haven’t they?” Jimin was getting nervous, shifting in Namjoon’s hold to blink up at him, “Y-yes, I mean…that’s true but…” His eyes widened when he realized how dumb he had been. How many lies Hoseok had told him to keep him in order, to make him do exactly what he wanted him to. Just a word about Jungkook and Jimin was on his knees, begging him not to hurt the younger. Jimin was shaking, his lips trembling, “Y-you’re right. H-he’s safe. Just one night, that’s…that’s all.”

Namjoon wasn’t stupid, there was something really wrong in the way Jimin reacted.

“Wait, that’s true, isn’t it?” Namjoon took Jimin at the arms to make him look at him again. “Yoongi told me. Basically everyone else I asked be it directly or the internet, it all said that if there is even a single exception then the owner isn’t allowed to call his establishment a teahouse anymore or sell his employees as geishas. He would lose all status. Hoseok wouldn’t risk that. Or has he? Has he done that, Jimin?”

Jimin had flinched hard when Namjoon grabbed him and even though it wasn’t a rough grip, it still had him whimpering. He wasn’t sure what to say, he felt like Namjoon was holding him up against the wall and shaking him – but in reality, they just stared at each other until Jimin couldn’t take it anymore. “He…never let a customer have a geisha again, no.” Jimin answered, but he still couldn’t dare to look at Namjoon again. “But he is the owner, right? He can do whatever he wants…it doesn’t matter.”

Namjoon sighed deeply, letting go of Jimin. “That’s... good, I guess.” He carefully caressed along Jimin’s jaw. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t wish that on anyone but it could have meant that Hoseok would lose permission to have his teahouse. And I don’t know how exactly such a situation would be handled but I guess it would have been easier for you to get out of your contract. Maybe it would have even been nullified. Anyway…” He stopped short when he realized how else you could interpret Jimin’s last words.

“Wait, you don’t mean… you weren’t trying to say…,” He bit his lip, his gut clenching painfully when the severity of those implications hit him. “You would tell me if… if someone was hurting you, right? You... you’re safe here, aren’t you? I mean, Hoseok is mean to you and he treats you wrongly and the whole thing is fucked up a little but he doesn’t… he wouldn’t… would he?”

Jimin’s eyes burned from the tears in his eyes. His whole body was trembling from the way he tried to suppress everything. But there was no use anymore. He had been breaking every rule there was already. Jimin had nothing to lose, but Namjoon and he was so afraid of it. That Namjoon would decide he wasn’t worth it, that he was disgusting, damaged goods.

“Hoseok...he,” Jimin choked on his words a little, feeling like his throat was closing in, “When I had my mizuage, he bid on me. Higher than anyone else. I thought it was nice, you know. I didn’t think about it...just thought that it’s someone I know, that I thought had the best intention.” Raking a hand through his hair nervously, Jimin was too embarrassed to look at Namjoon. “But I think he even knew back then that I was easy prey. I told Jungkook that Hoseok trusts in me, that he confines in me for the shows - but he doesn’t. But please don’t tell him...please, don’t say anything to him about this. He’s too sweet, too innocent.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as if he wasn’t even worth a better treatment. “He had seen the way I cared for Jungkook and Hoseok uses it against me. I can’t believe I’ve been so dumb to believe that he had a right…”

Shaking his head, Jimin chuckled humorlessly, “If I had...would it change anything though? It made sense to me. The debt, the mizuage...my body belonged to Hoseok. I am sorry, Namjoon. I am so sorry.” The geisha held on tightly to his shirt, wanting to seek Namjoon’s warmth again but now wasn’t so sure if the other even wanted him anymore. “If it wasn’t for my maiko,” He gazed up at Namjoon, “Jungkook still believes that all it needs for me to be free is a proposal...he doesn’t know about Hoseok’s ways and I want to keep it that way.” Reaching for the other’s hand, Jimin held on tightly to him, trying to read the other’s expression but Namjoon just stared at him, way too pale for Jimin’s liking. “Please, Joon...say something…”

“No…,” Namjoon shook his head, his mind in a haze. It felt like he had forgotten how to breathe properly and his inside had turned into acid burning everything in their wake. Hoseok had abused Jimin - while telling him that it was his right to do so. And Jimin trusted and believed him because it was the only thing he could do. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that it had happened to Jimin and that he had just learned about it now, unable to prevent anything from happening. How often had Hoseok asked Jimin to come to his room while Namjoon had been happily dreaming of seeing Jimin again? How often did Jimin have to hide the traces of what Hoseok did with him on his body for no one else to see? And he hadn’t told anyone because… there was no one who would have listened really besides Jungkook and Jimin had tried to keep him innocent.

“How... how could he do that? Why? That’s not… how dare he…,” He felt so helpless, so utterly useless. Because even though now he knew he still couldn’t do anything. And even if Hoseok called Jimin to him this very night he couldn’t help. “I’m sorry, I’m so very, truly sorry for… for everything. You shouldn’t stay here... you mustn’t. I want you to get out of there as soon as Jungkook can leave. I don’t care if you are ‘in debt’. That monster lost any right for compensation the very second he laid a hand on you.”

Jimin couldn’t help but kiss Namjoon again. It felt like the other needed the caresses, the safety, and the reassurance now, holding on to him to make him see that Jimin was here and with him and he was okay. More than that, because he was with Namjoon now. Shifting onto his lap, Jimin deeply kissed him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He nuzzled down his neck, placing sweet loving pecks on his jaw and neck. “I will be out of here one day,” Jimin whispered, kissing him again and again, staring up in his eyes, “Can you lawyer help me? Can you help me...please, don’t leave me, Namjoon.”

“I’ll call someone I trust tonight the minute I am home. I don’t know how exactly we’ll do this but I promise you, you won’t have to play by Hoseok’s rules any longer. Your body is yours and only yours. No one else is entitled to anything you don’t want to give freely and willingly. If he tries to touch you again make up an excuse and then call me. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him from touching you again. Just hold on, Minnie. And if you feel like you can’t take it any minute longer then I’ll take both you and Kookie out of there. I don’t care for the consequences.” He sealed his promise with a kiss adding softly, “Of course I’ll stay. I’d never leave you. Not now, not ever.”

Jimin fell into the kiss easily, not wanting to leave the taste of his sweet mouth for a second. The promise was whispered against his, before Jimin closed his lips on Namjoon’s again. He settled on his lap a little more, letting Namjoon pull him closer as they kissed for what seemed like an eternity. And only when the rain outside slowly subsided, did Jimin lean onto Namjoon’s chest, feeling like all of his strength has left him, his limbs too heavy to move and he could only exist in his hold. He wanted to stay like this, never part from him again. He couldn’t imagine how Namjoon had wormed himself a way into his heart without him noticing, slowly making sure that he’d never forget about him. Namjoon was inked onto his heart now. Forever.

“I think its best when I let you out through the backdoor of the garden, Joon.” Jimin whispered, drawing little patterns onto Namjoon’s shirt, “If you come back in…I’m not sure if someone will see you. You can just go all the way around then without anyone noticing you.”

“Yeah, that’s probably best. I’d say we’re better safe than sorry from now on. We will have all the time in the world later on. I want you to be safe and don’t give Hoseok another “reason” to reprimand you.” He kissed Jimin one last time, not on his lips though but on his forehead in a sweet, protective gesture.

It was the hardest to part from him again, when he just felt like he was able to be with Namjoon more closely now. He held onto his hand as long as he could until the metal bars of the gate didn’t let him anymore. Nonetheless there was a smile on his lips when he walked back to his room, far gone in his daydreams about Namjoon, in the pure thought of being with him – somewhere safe, somewhere where no one could hurt him anymore.

Because Namjoon wouldn’t let anyone harm him.

Jimin sighed to himself, quietly opening the door, when he noticed both beds being still perfectly made like they had this morning.

No Jungkook.

Nothing.

Where was he? Was he still in the main room? The fear rushed through his veins so fast, that it made him dizzy again, the anxious feel back in his bones. Jimin gasped breathlessly and spun around quickly, thinking that maybe Hoseok had caught up to Jungkook or…

Jimin froze in his movements, when his eyes met a white shirt, his gaze wandering up each white button that was stretching with every heave of breathe the man took until he met his eyes.

“Hoseok,” Jimin gulped heavily, trying not to sound too nervous while hiding his hands behind his back to keep them from shaking. Taking a step towards him, Jimin simultaneously stepped back, blinking up at the taller man, eyes wide as he tried a wavering smile.

“Where were you? You think you can do whatever you want? That you can break whatever rules you don’t like at the moment. I thought I had made myself clear when I had told you to go back into your room. Do you want to embarrass me so badly? Running around in a ripped robe and showing your body to everyone who wants to see? I thought I raised you a geisha not a subordinate child. You need to remember that there are consequences for every action Jimin. And believe me I don’t like to remind you, I hate this just as much as you do. But if you don’t learn then I won’t repeat myself over and over again, I’ll just have to be more strict with you.” He gripped Jimin by his wrist and pulled him out into the hallway. “Think about why this is happening, Jimin and don’t you dare blame me for this. It’s your own fault, entirely yours.”

A/N: And I oooop.....aaaahghgh I am sorryyyyyyyy haha lmao anyways, I hope you still enjoyed this chapter lmao Please leave a comment down below! Cat and I love hearing your thoughts. ❤

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softjeon · 5 years

Text

Love Bite | Pt. 3

• Pairing: Vampire!Namjoon x Jimin • Genre: Angst / Smut | Vampire!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 5,6k | Co-Writer: Cat @cassiavioletblue | AO3 • Disclaimer: blood, abuse, (sexual) violence, mindcontrol, mentioning of death

↳ “You’re right. I was lying. I didn’t want to scare you. But I guess there’s not much to do now, right? I’ll tell you the truth,” Namjoon spoke softly, the grip around Jimin’s wrists loosened a little but not enough to free himself, “…because you deserve it, because I pull you into a lot of shit right now just by being here. I am a vampire, Jimin.”

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Jimin blinked in confusion, not really understanding what Namjoon had just confessed. The vampire’s hands were still holding on tightly to his wrists and there was no way the younger could go anywhere right now. The fear was making his heart beat fast and drumming hard against his chest.

“You’re...you’re a what?” Jimin chuckled nervously, trying to find anything that would give away that Namjoon was teasing him, or making a fool out of the younger but there was nothing. “You’re probably just very drunk,” Jimin said, not really having it. He wanted to sleep and not fight off his very naked boss in the middle of the night.

“If you think you’re a goddamn vampire then you better give me some damn proof,” Jimin said, gathering all his courage, while could feel how the hold around his wrists loosened. He quickly took a step back for precaution and eyed Namjoon warily. The other had broken his phone into a million pieces after his first try of calling the police, so Jimin had practically nothing, but he threatened the other nonetheless once more. “Or else, you give me no choice but to call the police! So, tell me one more time why you are standing in my living room completely naked in the middle of the night?“

“Because I really, really need to hide somewhere right now! And... shit I really didn’t think this through!” He had managed to turn into a bat fluidly, something that he had perfected over the years, although he didn’t really like it because, a) turning into a fluffy, squeaky little fluttery thing wasn’t what he deemed dignifying and, b) he could only turn his body into a bat, meaning he lost his clothes every time, which he remembered the moment he saw his clothes floating down. Therefore he had been gotten into the incredible uncomfortable situation that he was in right now.

To be honest though, it could have been worse.

He had remembered Jimin’s address easily and flying up the building while being about 5 inches big could have been much more of a hassle but luckily Jimin’s window had been tilted so he had naturally been drawn to his scent. He wished he could have just flown off, escaping from the rogue one without dragging Jimin into this but he was exhausted and shapeshifting was taking an even bigger toll on his body than the fight and the wound and the hunger already did so, he had no idea how far he would have made it and if he had turned back into his human form while still being within the scent range of the other vampire; hurt, naked and powerless then he could have just as well signed his death certificate.

No, this was the only way. Even if it meant shocking Jimin. He had hoped to at least lend some clothes from the younger first and then explain later but Jimin had beat him to that, entering the living room about two minutes after he had changed back (which could have something to do with the fact that in his hurry he had missed the open window a little at first try, knocking against it with his wings which had made it sound as if a bird had flown against it). And now he stood right in front of Jimin, without wearing anything but his own skin, shoulder still bleeding, situation still terrifyingly close to deadly and Jimin refused to believe him.

Which okay, the younger did have a point. Vampires weren’t an official thing on purpose but he was starting to get desperate here goddammit so he needed Jimin to believe him now and then he would have to close to window and stay and not make any move while hoping that the rogue one hadn’t followed him quickly enough to see where he had flown to. Or else they would both die.

“I’m... I’m so, so sorry Jimin,” He whispered. Then he leaned in, inhaling the others sweet scent. It didn’t take much for his fangs to show on his own, he was so hungry and so exhausted and Jimin was right there all he would have to do was lean in a tiny little bit closer and break the soft, delicate skin with his fangs, pierce it just a little for the delicious crimson to spill out and fill his mouth; so warm, so wet, so utterly perfect and…

Namjoon pushed back, drawing in a shaky breath. He knew how he must look like right now, eyes almost feverish with their hungry glint, fangs as long as they could be, skin pale and dry while his shoulder started to turn an ugly purple, body reacting to the blood loss and miserable state he was in. He tried to sense how Jimin would react, if he would scream. He needed to make sure he didn’t, but covering his mouth would only scare Jimin further and he was pushing the younger enough already. Also hypnotizing wasn’t an option, not when he was this weak and Jimin had already managed to break out of it before when he had more time and more strength and hadn’t been so goddamn desperate - if he would try to run or just stand there in shock.

But Jimin did none of that, instead he jumped back, grabbing the first things he could reach (which was a ruler and a pen) and made a cross in front of him. “Don’t….don’t come closer!” Jimin stuttered in fear, looking at his boss who suddenly had grown fangs. Real Vampire fangs. He looked at Namjoon with wide, panic filled eyes, gulping heavily against the lump in his throat. Out of sudden, everything made sense. How quiet the other was whenever he was moving. The inhuman strength that he showed when he had held the archive shelf up with one arm. Jimin flinched a little, when Namjoon took a careful step closer.

“I know this must be a lot for you and I’m sorry to push it upon you but I don’t really have a choice here. So would you please allow me to stay? I promise, I swear I’m not going to hurt you! I just need to stay, preferably close to you...,” Jimin’s warmth, his scent, his heavenly, heavenly blood, “...and then tomorrow as soon as the sun rises I’ll be gone. And we can pretend this didn’t happen.” He swallowed nervously, afraid what he would have to do in case Jimin said no. “Also I’m... really sorry about your phone. Of course I’ll replace it immediately. First thing tomorrow when I’m back at the office.” His attempt at a soothing smile probably wasn’t the best idea while his fangs were still on full display which he realized too late.

Jimin eyed the wound on Namjoon’s shoulder warily, then looked at his face and his fangs again. Namjoon didn’t look like he wanted to attack Jimin and even if he wanted to hadn’t the other enough chances to do so already? He could have killed him down in the car park, when they were alone in the middle of the night or when he brought him home - twice. Namjoon was everything but - what he normally would think a vampire would be like - hunger driven. He still held the self-made cross in front of him, but then relaxed his shoulders and his body, before he put it aside. He figured that it didn’t work like it normally did in the movies, since Namjoon hadn’t even reacted on it. He eyed the wound on Namjoon’s shoulder once more and bit his lip. It seemed like the other had been in a fight and… Jimin’s eyes widened once more. That means he was a target now as well. Great. That’s what he needed now. Even more stuff to deal with, when his desperation and deprivation of any physical contact with another man was already making him lose focus all the time and keeping him awake. He didn’t need vampires in the mix.

Namjoon was proud that he had managed to hold back when Jimin had held up that ‘cross’, he had been so close to reach forward and just correct it into one that looked more like a cross, going with “there you go, now it looks better” just to see the look on Jimin’s face. But he figured he was in no position to tease him so instead he had just ignored it. Besides he was just so damn exhausted. He’d do everything for a place to rest...and some blood maybe.

Jimin’s eyes wandered down Namjoon’s body once more, but Jimin quickly shot his head up and put a hand over his eyes. “Give...give me one second,” He carefully got around Namjoon, covering his goods with his hand, as he tried to keep his focus on his boss’s eyes as he walked backwards into his bedroom.

Was Jimin really doing this? Believing this? Was he really this stupid? But his boss hasn’t ever attacked him once right? But he also couldn’t cast Namjoon out like that, if he was very obviously hurt, right? Jimin’s thoughts were racing and he bit his lip repeatedly. And maybe his blood wasn’t what the other wanted…

Jimin suddenly went stiff, remembering the accident today. But that was an accident, right? And Namjoon hadn't hurt him and took care of him. Groaning to himself, he roamed around his wardrobe to find the only pants he knew could fit Namjoon. The old jogging pants from his ex-boyfriend who had happened to be almost as tall as Namjoon. Coming back into the living room, he threw them at Namjoon with his eyes closed, “Wear these and then we can talk!”

Jimin had waited for Namjoon to pull the pants on quickly, before he opened his eyes again. Namjoon’s (beautiful, golden) chest was still on display but Jimin didn’t mind that. “Can...can I touch them?” Jimin asked out of the blue, as he was adding even more questions nervously, “Your fangs, I mean. Can you...can you control yourself? Is that even possible?”

“Hu? Wh...what?” He blinked in surprise, needing a second to get that Jimin was referring to his fangs. He couldn't fathom why Jimin would want to touch them, they were just teeth after all. Also he should better be scared. But if that made things easier between them then why not. Embarrassed, Namjoon scooted closer, careful not to move to fast and startle the younger. “Uhm, sure, if you... if you want to? But be careful that you don’t nick your skin. They are sharp. And it only needs a little cut for the poison to get into your system.”

Jimin nodded, licking his lips slowly when Namjoon stood right in front of him. The younger studied his boss, looking at him closely, noticing all the beautiful features of the other’s face. With a shaking hand he reached out for Namjoon’s face, his eyes flickering between his eyes and fangs. Jimin had to get on his tip toes and before he could fall over, he placed a hand on Namjoon’s still naked chest to balance himself out. A shy smile curved at his lips, before his focus was back on Namjoons teeth. It looks so real. Too real. Gulping heavily, he carefully touched them, his eyes widening even more when they came in contact with it.

The tension was so palpable that Namjoon wanted to playfully snap and Jimin before he could touch his fangs, to make him giggle and lighten the mod. But he knew that joking around was impossible when he had his fangs out. Human seemed to sense the danger or their thoughts were overrun with fear because they were so focused on what he could do that there was no room for anything else. So he kept completely still, not even daring to breathe when Jimin touched him. “You…you are a fucking vampire,” Jimin looked up at Namjoon with a shocked expression, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “But why do you need to hide? Why here? Why me?” The younger one asked quietly, only now taking a step back, “Is there something after you. Are you…we in danger?”

The exclamation made it obvious what Jimin had wanted - to make sure that his fangs were real. Namjoons stomach tightened uncomfortable. Jimin had thought of him as a lunatic and might still do so. He sighed deeply when Jimin didn’t let go of his questions. It seemed like there was no possibility of just ignoring that topic. He didn’t want to scare Jimin any further. But the younger deserved an answer now that he was right inside this mess. “You remember the attacks I warned you about? The reasons why I took you home? Well, they weren’t animal attacks. They are vampire attacks. There are some of us on the loose. A few minutes ago I found their newest victim. And the attacker found me. He’s stronger than me because he feeds on humans and I...I’m not really... I’m just drinking cold blood.I just... I had no choice but to run. Though with me bleeding and everything I was an easy target to track and sniff out. I needed a human scent to cover mine up. And you... you smell amazing. He won’t find me here unless he’s gonna stand in the hallway.”

Jimin gasped at Namjoon’s explanation, his eyes flickering between his wound and eyes again. He nodded with every word his boss said, only blushing when Namjoon complimented him on his smell. “Oh, do I?” He asked quietly, playing with the hem of his pajama shirt. “I’m really glad that you brought me home, then,” Jimin chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. And here he thought that Namjoon might have taken a liking in him, when in reality the other was really just taking care of his employees. Sighing deeply, Jimin pointed at the wound, “Do you need me to take care of that? Or does only blood heal you completely? If that’s the case…I can’t help. No biting in my apartment, okay?” Jimin nodded firmly towards Namjoon, before a smile graced his lips. Despite everything in him screaming to run for his life and get away from the vampire, there was still one voice telling him to trust Namjoon. There was no reason for the vampire to kill him. He believed Namjoon.

“No, no, it’s fine!” There was only so much that he could take and having Jimin close while touching his shoulder and caring for his wound, the younger’s face way too close to his own (his fangs)... just the thought had him feeling lightheaded and weak, a groan trying to tear its way out of his chest. “No biting, got it.” He smiled, cursing his body's responses to hunger. If only he could will away his fangs then the two of them could just pretend like nothing happened.

“Okay, I guess…you can sleep on the couch then,” He pointed right behind Namjoon, before he got over to close the window and curtains quickly. “There are some blankets over there and…”

When Jimin offered Namjoon the couch he was torn between relief that Jimin didn’t throw him out and a nervous knot that was tying itself in his stomach. Maybe he should just take the offer and hope that it would be enough, hope that the rogue one wouldn’t get close enough...Sheepishly he rubbed his neck before whispering ruefully, “Jimin, I... I really wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important but... can I please stay close to you tonight? Somewhere where your scent will be stronger than mine...like... like in your bed?” It also meant that he would be close enough to defend Jimin in case everything would go south despite his effort to prevent that. The human was trying to save him right now although he must be scared - so the least he could do was guarantee for his safety in return.

“I…ehm…I guess, so?” Jimin said, internally freaking out completely. Was he out of his mind? Just turning around and opening the door to his bedroom like it was nothing and letting Namjoon in? His boss? That turned out to be a vampire? Who was running away from some rogue vampires that were after him? Rubbing his temples, Jimin could feel a headache settle in as he sat on the edge of his bed again. His heart was beating fast as the thought hit him, that he hadn’t slept with another man in his bed for quite a while now. “How…how close do you need to be?” Jimin shivered slightly. He wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the nervousness.

Namjoon instantly relaxed when Jimin opened the door to his bedroom. In here the scent of Jimin was practically everywhere, the clothes, the sheets, the carpet where he must sit down sometimes to read a book or do some push ups. It wasn’t as overwhelming as he had feared it was just... perfect. It felt comfortable. Safe. As if he belonged in here...

Jimin probably had a vastly different opinion from the way he eyed him insecurely, heart beating so fast that Namjoon was afraid it would pound out of Jimin’s chest. ‘I don’t need to be that close’ was what he wanted to say, the responsible part, that saw how Jimin looked at him and knew all too well that him just standing in Jimin’s bedroom like this was already intrusive enough - and then there was the other part, the hungry one that was dying to tell him ‘I want to get so close that I can bury my face into your neck, feel your pulse, lick all along your beautiful, beautiful throat, maybe nip at the soft skin there to make flowers bloom on you because it’s a shame to not paint such a beautiful canvas’. So before either of his urged could spill he quickly settled on, “As close as you are comfortable with.” And then stayed completely motionless to give Jimin some room.

“Oh-okay,” Jimin gulped, looking at the empty side of his bed and then back to Namjoon. “I guess you could use some sleep as well, right? I mean…if you do sleep... do you?” The human asked, rubbing his neck awkwardly, before he motioned for Namjoon to come over. “If you need my scent on you, I guess…my bed is the best place to…get it on you…or something,” Jimin said a bit hastily, before he laid down as stiff as a board.

“Sleep is.. just a little different for me but you can call it like that if you want because it still means that I have to lie down and close my eyes.” There were just no dreams, no nightmares, no snoring. The more exhausted his body was and he more deeply it went into restoration mode the more dead he would look, no pulse, no breath, no heartbeat, just his body trying to fix himself until he could be ‘rebooted’. To him it would feel as if he had just closed his eyes a second ago while in reality their ‘sleep’ could range from minutes to years if necessary (provided that a vampire had fed himself enough blood before. Because although they barely used up any energy in this state it could add up and if there wasn’t enough blood in their system they would risk to not wake up again). He carefully lowered himself down onto the mattress and then stretched out on the opposite end of the bed, as far away as he could manage without falling off of it while giving Jimin as much space as he could. He quickly closed his eyes because staring at Jimin so close to him wasn’t doing his state any good.

Jimin did the same, holding onto his blanket tight, before he turned off the light. He was willing himself to breath evenly, and not to think about how nervous he was right now. His mind was racing with every possible thought and just the fact that he was sleeping right next to Namjoon was…keeping him awake for quite some time. But luckily for Jimin, his tiredness just washed over him at some point and he slowly drifted off to dreamland.

Jimin always had been a heavy dreamer and having a king sized bed mostly to himself came with the advantages of rolling around in his sleep without disturbing anyone else. Completely forgotten that a vampire was sleeping right next to him, Jimin was rolling over, his blanket falling off the edge of the bed in the process. He whined quietly in his sleep, pulling his legs in, as his subconscious was searching for some warmth again, making him shift closer and closer to Namjoon until the younger was right next to the vampire. Whining desperately, Jimin groped around in the dark until he had a grip on Namjoon’s arm pulling the other towards him, seeking the warmth and safety of the vampire’s embrace.

Namjoon jerked away when he felt someone grab him, his eyes were unfocused, body too weak to fight back but he bared his fangs, pure fear washing over him. His heart started beating again, shallowly, too quick and uneven, like a broken machine. It took one of Jimin’s sleepy snuffles to bring his consciousness back to where he actually was. He shuddered, a helpless response to how close Jimin was, how delicious he smelled... Namjoon kept his mouth carefully closed. But he couldn’t resist completely. Carefully and with a guilty conscious he pulled Jimin closer until the younger was right in front of him - and then he buried his head in Jimin’s neck for a second just like he had wanted. Breathing him in like this was heaven and Namjoon had to draw back to keep himself from losing his last bit of self control. Jimin didn't seem to mind his closeness though because as soon as Namjoon tried to get some more distance in between them Jimin cuddled into his chest as if Namjoon was his personal oversized teddy bear.

Or his lover.

Jimin wrapped his arm around Namjoon’s waist, getting so close, that it almost felt like he was placing open mouth kisses on the other’s chest. Soft, delicate and sweet. His lips were brushing Namjoon’s skin and Jimin hummed in his sleep. Only slowly did his surroundings come back to him again, when he let his hand settle on the vampire’s chest. He could feel his heartbeat underneath his fingertips and Jimin slowly came to. He yawned cutely, rubbing his eyes, mumbling something about wanting to sleep more and that it was still in the middle of the night, when his eyes met some red, very hungry looking ones.

Jimin screamed.

One short, but very loud scream before he pushed his own hand over his own mouth. He had jerked away so hard, that he had lost his balance, falling off the edge of the bed and onto his bottom. “Please…,” His heart was beating fast, his voice broke as Jimin was staring back at Namjoon, suddenly not so sure anymore if he was so safe.

Namjoon closed his eyes, body stiff and muscles locked tight. He could have kept Jimin from falling off the bed and prevent his painful fall but for that he would have needed to hold onto Jimin and pull him back towards him and it looked as if that was the least thing that Jimin wanted right now. So he just watched him tumble over the edge waiting for Jimin's further reactions. “I’m sorry.” His voice sounded raspy and raw, “I didn't mean to startle you. I just can't help but react to you. It doesn't make any difference which color my eyes have or if my fangs are showing, I still won't bite you no matter what.”

Jimin stared at Namjoon, nodding quietly. He took in a shaky breath, pulling his knees in. “Can…can you promise me something?” The younger asked carefully, as he sat up a little more, trying to shake off the fear. Namjoon hadn’t moved one bit from his spot and was only looking at him reassuringly. Jimin couldn’t detect any lies. Only shame and guilt, that was washing over Namjoon’s expression and now Jimin felt stupid for even reacting like this. Getting up slowly, Jimin walked around the bed, putting the blanket that had fallen down, back on it. He was still shaking. Very carefully, he sat on the bed and on his knees, looking at Namjoon with a stern expression.

“I want you to promise me, Mr. Kim,” He said once more, “To never bite me …if you need to hide or need my scent, you can come here but…please, next time just tell me beforehand, okay? And…please, could you wear some clothes as well?” Jimin tried a smile, his heart still beating quickly as he couldn’t just shake the shock off. Namjoon’s dark red eyes staring back at him. This was taking all of his courage right now.

“If you promise me that, I’ll promise to make sure you have a hide-out if you need it, I guess.” Slowly Jimin reached out his hand for Namjoon to take. Namjoon had shown nothing but kindness towards Jimin so far (except for destroying his phone, maybe) and never once had given him any reasons to mistrust him – or maybe Jimin just wanted to ignore every possible warning. Either way something was pulling him towards the other, making him want to trust him.

The vampires eyes widened in surprise at Jimin's offer but he immediately took Jimin’s hand before even think. “Of course! I told you I would never bite you. I meant it.” He was touched at how much Jimin cared. Letting him sleep here because he had showed up in need and helpless was one thing but offering him his place to hide, was something entirely else. “Thank you Jimin. I really appreciate this. All of it. For...not freaking out. And letting me stay. And treating me like a human being. You won’t regret it. Just one little thing; please don’t call me Mister Kim. My name is Namjoon.”

“Okay,...Namjoon,” Jimin said with a smile and slowly repositioned himself to lay down again. Only this time he felt ten times safer. Just when Jimin was about to turn his back on Namjoon again, he looked at the vampire, his own voice quiet and unsure, “I mean…if you still need my scent. You can come closer again. I’m not afraid anymore…,” He hesitated for a moment before he added, “I liked it. Your warmth.” With a smile, Jimin turned around, snuggling back into the cushion, letting Namjoon decide whether he wanted to come closer again or not. His own heart beating nervously, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks in the pillow.

How could Namjoon resist such an offer when all his senses screamed at him to get closer to Jimin. Carefully and very, very slowly - so that Jimin could prevent it if he wanted - did he put his arm around Jimin’s waist, losely and just barely there to make sure Jimin would not feel caged in. Then he scooted closer, inch by inch until he wasn’t quite touching his back but could feel his body warmth nonetheless.

It was perfect.

On the other side of the city, a certain rogue vampire was standing high up on a balcony. He lifted his face to the soft rain that was falling, let it course through his dark, wavy hair. He knew, the vampire wasn’t here. The rogue one had lost his track a while ago, but that didn’t stop him. A wicked smile appeared on his lips, that could only be seen when it reached his eyes, his mouth hidden by the mask.

With a targeted punch, he simply destroyed the glass from the door that lead back into the apartment that the vampire called his own. His boot crunched the shards hard underneath his sole. They had been watching the vampire for a long time now, maybe it was time to let him know how close they were. With a sickening laugh, the vampire ran inhumanly fast and tossed furniture, tearing cushions apart, cutting the pillows open. Shelves were tapped, emptied and pulled away from the walls. Cupboards were emptied, boxes torn open and every drawer in Namjoon’s apartment was opened and dumped. A low growl escaped his lungs, when he had opened the fridge, seeing the cold blood stacks. “Disgusting,” He reached in and destroyed every single pack, knowing that he had hurt the vampire before - the other needed blood, he would need every little drop of it that he could get to heal again. He would come back and then the rogue was ready. They were so close. So so close. With one jump from the balcony, he was one with the night again.

...

Namjoon woke from hunger. The wound on his shoulder had closed but there was still some bruising and discoloration visible on his skin. He didn’t feel good. And as he could see for himself in the mirror later he looked just as bad as he felt. To be honest he was glad he had woken up so soon he could just as well have ended up sleeping for a few days. But apparently there was some self-preservation left in him. His stomach growled when he sat up and he froze. He didn’t want to wake Jimin. Seeing Jimin scramble away from him in panic once was enough for a while. And he couldn’t help it he wouldn’t look less inhuman before he had something to eat. Or drink, however you wanted to call it. Luckily he had still some blood bags left in his fridge so he could have a healthy breakfast and then try to get more from Hoseok. Carefully he got out of bed, leaving the bedroom and then the apartment with quiet steps.

As it was still early in the morning, there wasn’t too many people around – but a man with only sweatpants on would probably still be a sight. So, he quickly decided to go and use his abilities to run as fast as possible through the morning midst and over the roofs of the city until he could see his apartment complex. He greeted the guard at the door with a smile (the guard never questioned anything, since Hoseok had him hypnotized) and Namjoon quickly ran up the stairs. The elevator would have taken too long. But just as he was about to turn the corner he smelled it. Something was different. A vampire had been here. And not a kind one. Reaching for his phone slowly, he dialed the number quick. It didn’t take long for Hoseok’s voice to appear at the other end, “I hope you have a fucking good reason to interrupt me in the middle of worshipping Jin’s beauty.”

Namjoon tried not to think to hard about what ‘worshipping Jin’s beauty’ entailed and instead came right to the point. “If it counts as a good reason that I met one of the rogue ones then yes. Also he chased me. And I needed to reveal my nature to a human. So I hereby fulfill my duty of officially informing you about that. And...“ He closed his eyes to control himself but there was still a physical reaction, a shiver wracking through him. It could be nerves or weakness or anger, who knew. All that Namjoon knew for sure was that he was fucked.

“And someone broke into my apartment. I think it was the rogue one but...I’m not one hundred percent sure.” He left it to Hoseok to realize how weak he was that his senses were already failing. “They went through all my stuff and also destroyed the meals that I had kept in the fridge. I’m sorry to bother you again but I’ll need to restock on that. And probably drink one or two. So if you could maybe have some prepared… then I would come get them. Maybe... in half an hour?” He didn’t like bothering Hoseok but it wasn’t as if he had that much of a choice. He needed nutrition. As soon as possible.

Namjoon could hear muffled sounds and a whine coming from the other end of the phone, when Hoseok seemed to get up, roaming around in his room, before the vampire king’s voice darkened and he ordered, “Get what you need out of there and I’ll send one of mine over to your office. He will bring you blood. More than enough and fresh.” Hoseok sighed, before he lowered his voice a little, “I’ll take care of the apartment. It’s probably better if you don’t come by today. If they are watching you…I’ll figure something out, trust me. Until then…do you have somewhere to hide? Somewhere safe?”

The relief made Namjoon’s knees weak and he sat down on the edge of the bed where the mattress wasn’t ripped. Not having to go get that blood himself and instead just waiting and trying not to move sound like a heavenly plan. He could feel the exhaustion bone deep, settling like lead heavy in his arms and legs, clouding his mind, slowing his breath. He wanted to go back to curling up in his bed, preferably against Jimin but he knew that falling back into slumber would only make things worse. His lips were dry and cracked and no matter how often he licked them it didn't made any difference. “That’s perfect. Thank you, Hoseok. He leaned his head against the headboard of the bed, just a little and regretted it instantly. He was too sleepy. Way too sleepy.

“Can you.. maybe hurry please?” His tongue was heavy, his words slurring into each other. Closing his eyes was a luxury that he couldn't afford right now.

A/N: Oh, oh.......now Jimin knows about vampires, alsooo they shared a bed for the first time ;) kchhhh. We hope you liked the new chapter! Tell us what you thought down below in the comments or message us! We love reading your thoughts!

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